place anyone would expect her to show up.
Only one possibility came to mind.
A place with cows and mosquitoes, wasps and skunks—the four-legged kind. And rattlesnakes and big, hairy spiders. Her mother had told her about those.
The Dry Gulch Ranch, home of R.J. Dalton—her dear old dad.
He’d never been much of a father before. This would be his chance to shine.
Two days and a lifetime of fear and anxiety later, Jade stepped off a plane at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. She’d boarded the flight with trepidation, sure any second someone would recognize her in spite of her horrid wig and fake ID.
Even after she’d taken her seat and the plane had lifted into the air, she’d worried that somehow Reggie had tracked her and would be waiting when she approached the gate. After all, he had all the power and authority of the NYPD behind him.
She’d come close to calling the police herself, but whenever she did, she remembered the look on Reggie’s face when he’d come after her, a trail of blood behind him.
Dread all but paralyzed her and she stopped halfway through the Jetway. People pulling luggage and shouldering bulky backpacks jostled her as they maneuvered past. She didn’t move until the passengers had all exited and the flight attendants were walking toward her.
Finally she started walking again. Relief surged through her as she stepped into the gate area. No one was waiting for her. No one even gave her a second look. She checked the signs and started in the direction of baggage claim and ground transportation.
When she’d flown to Dallas almost two years ago, she rented a car and drove to the Dry Gulch Ranch. This time she was out of cash. The plane ticket had taken the last of the money in her wallet and she didn’t dare use the ATM for fear Reggie was having it monitored.
She could probably take a taxi and let R.J. pay once she reached the Dry Gulch. Or she could risk hitchhiking as she’d done from New York to Atlanta, catching rides with truckers from one town and truck stop to the next.
But it was already after 7:00 p.m. and she was stressed to the breaking point. Climbing in another 18-wheeler with a stranger would surely push her over the edge. All she wanted was a safe place to close her eyes and sleep.
Following a stream of passengers, she crowded onto the escalator, her only luggage the shopping bag that held her strappy heels a toothbrush and toothpaste.
She was wearing the hideous black wig, a pair of black-rimmed glasses, the shoes and the shirt and jeans she’d found in Reggie’s shopping bag.
The bloody dress was in a restroom at a truck stop back in Philly.
Once off the escalator, she started walking toward the taxi stop, still with no clear plan in mind. She spotted two men loitering next to that exit, both staring at her. Panic hit so swiftly she grew dizzy.
Struggling to calm herself with empty reassurances, she willed her feet to start walking in the opposite direction. Without slowing, she glanced over her shoulder. The men were only a few feet behind her and closing the space between them.
“Hey, lady,” one of them called, waving to her.
She picked up her pace, practically running through the crowded airport. She turned a corner and ran smack into a man pulling a carry-on bag. He grabbed her arm to steady her.
She threw her arms around the man’s neck and greeted him like a lover who’d just come home from a long war.
* * *
BOOKER STOOD THERE, too stunned to react to the stranger’s kiss—for a half second. He figured the stranger had mistaken him for someone else, but that wasn’t his fault. He threw himself into the kiss.
“I think you may have the wrong man, but I’m not complaining,” he said when her lips left his.
“Play along with me,” she said. “Act like we’re together. I’ll explain later.”
“Works for me.” What didn’t work was the fear reflected in her gorgeous green eyes or the nervous way she kept glancing over her shoulder.
“I’m at your service. Is there someone here you need punched in the nose?”
“No. Start walking,” she said, taking his arm.
“Where are we going?”
“To the taxi stand.”
“How about we just walk over to the Avis counter? I have a car reserved. I’ll drop you wherever you want to go.”
“A ride would be great.” She glanced over her shoulder again.
“Who is it you’re trying to avoid?”
“No one.”
“You’re putting a lot of effort into this to avoid no one.”
“I thought I saw my ex, but I was mistaken.” She stopped walking and looked behind her, then let go of his arm. “You can go ahead with your plans. I’ll be fine now.”
She didn’t sound fine. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to see that she was in trouble and running scared. Even if she hadn’t been a fantastic kisser, he couldn’t have walked away from that.
“Kiss and run is far worse than kiss and tell,” he teased. “You should at least let me thank you for the spectacular welcome by giving you a ride.”
“I’m going to Oak Grove. It’s over an hour’s drive from here.”
“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Not to mention that he was heading in that direction, anyway. “Do you have a name?”
Again, she hesitated way too long to be telling the truth. “Pam.”
“Nice name.” Just not hers, he’d wager.
“Mine’s Booker Knox.”
“Nice to meet you, Booker.”
She stopped glancing over her shoulder as they made the short trek to the rental desk, but she didn’t volunteer any additional information, either. Quiet. Mysterious. She had his curiosity aroused big-time.
Actually that kiss had aroused more than his curiosity.
Fifteen minutes later, they were in the rental and on the interstate. “Are you going to visit family?” he asked.
“Yes, but they live off the beaten path. There’s a service station on the highway near Oak Grove. You can drop me off there. They’ll come and pick me up.”
“Are they expecting you?”
“Of course. They think I’m taking a taxi, but they’ll be waiting for my call. What about you? Where are you going?”
“To a friend’s ranch. My first time there, but from what I hear, it’s a big spread with a rambling old house. I’m sure they can fit you in if you need a place to stay tonight.”
“No, thanks.”
“Are you from Oak Grove?” he asked.
“No.”
“But you have family there.”
“Yes.”
“What’s their name? I bet my friends know them. I hear it’s a really small town.”
“Smith.”
Probably lying again. But why, unless she was worried about him being a pervert? “Am I making you uneasy?”
“A little. I don’t normally accept rides from strangers.”
Yet she’d kissed one in the airport. “Look, Pam, I can assure you I’m trustworthy.