her life again.
Next steps, next steps, she chanted to herself as they trotted in view of her sister’s trailer parked at the end of the row. Tammy had kept up the rent until she decided to put down more permanent roots; her job as caregiver for Bill Salvador came with a room.
Streak slowed to a walk. A scant few moments remained until she would have to dismount and face a very determined cowboy who she’d gleaned from Tammy was highly intelligent.
What choice did she have but to stall until she knew where her sister was?
Liam reined in the horse and eased off him, not quite disguising the groan as his boots hit the ground. He offered her a calloused palm that all but dwarfed her hand in its strong grasp. She slid out of the saddle, patted the prancing dog and headed up the porch steps. The tiny single-bulb lamp was on, moths circling around.
“Thank you very much,” she said as she passed him. “I don’t know how else to repay you. Ride safe home.”
He’d moved faster than she thought, edging in front of her and leaning a shoulder against the door. “Seems like you haven’t answered the pertinent questions.”
She stopped. He curved a finger through the belt loop of his jeans and crossed his booted ankles.
“There’s nothing else.”
He craned forward a bit. “What’s that?”
She remembered Tammy had told her something about Liam having hearing loss. “I’ve told you all I can,” she said, louder.
He smiled and thumbed his hat back, the light accentuating his strong jaw. “Aw, now, I don’t think that’s the full honest truth. We’re not exactly strangers. You should talk to me.”
The urge rippled through her to tell him, to trust him. But how could she when Tammy had not? When she had no idea whom to trust or where to turn?
She straightened, tipping her chin up to look him in the face since he was a good six inches taller. “I’m not going to tell you anything further.”
He blew out a breath. “So you’re just gonna stay out here in this trailer, all by your lonesome, when you’ve almost been hit by a train and dropped off a lighthouse?”
“I’m safe. There are neighbors. I have an alarm.” At least, her sister used to have an alarm on her trailer. “I have a cell phone.”
“To call the police, whom you don’t wanna talk to?”
She waved him off. “I’m tired and I need a shower. I’ll be fine.”
“All right, then I’m gonna stay here and keep watch. I’ll go home and get my truck. Me and Jingles here will bunk in the back seat.”
She gritted her teeth. “Not necessary. You’re going to leave.”
His lips curled in a sassy, slow smile that flicked her pulse higher. “How’re you fixing to move two-hundred-plus pounds of good ol’ cowboy off your property, Tam?”
She took a step closer. “I’m going to ask you politely, Liam, and you’re going to respect my wishes and leave.” Silence lengthened between them. Was he that kind of man? The next few seconds would tell.
He huffed out a frustrated breath and she knew she’d won the battle. “All right, then. You read that right. I’d never disrespect a woman, not in this lifetime. I got a lot of sins under my belt, but not that one.”
With a sigh, she reached for the door but froze when he put one finger gently on her forearm. The connection held her in place. “You know,” he said, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, “there’s something different about you, Tam.”
She didn’t answer. He let his finger remain there for a moment, a spot of warmth in the icy December night. Then he withdrew and walked back to his horse.
The relieved exhale hadn’t quite left her lungs when he threw a remark over his shoulder.
“Something’s not right here, and I’m gonna worry this bone till I figure it out.” He put a finger to his hat in perfect cowboy form and smiled. “Sleep well.”
She watched him go with a sinking feeling that Liam Pike would match her determination stride for stride. She may have won the battle but the war was far from over.
Saddle up, Maggie. Rough trail ahead.
Liam’s almost brother, retired US marshal Mitch Whitehorse, was not prone to smiling. Liam guessed he wouldn’t be, either, with a serial killer for a sibling. But since Mitch had put Wade back in prison almost a year prior, married Jane and adopted her son Charlie, his demeanor was downright sanguine. He was loping through the living room of the Roughwater Ranch main house with Charlie on his shoulders, the day after the incident with Tammy, doing loop de loops around the giant Christmas tree.
“Playing horsie?” Liam teased. He gave Charlie a high five, reveling in the joy shining in the little boy’s face. He could barely remember life at the ranch before Charlie had arrived, and he didn’t much want to.
Mitch cocked his head, the scar on his cheek catching the winter sunlight streaming through the window. “Nah, I’m a train, of course. Anyone can see that. Charlie’s excited about riding the Train of Lights next Wednesday.”
“Choo choo, Uncle Liam,” crooned the three-year-old. The name came out sounding like “Weeum,” which made Liam grin every single time.
“Ah. Train. How could I have missed that?”
“You missed a cow, too,” Mitch added. “Got her from the lower pasture and returned her to the herd.”
Liam jerked. He wanted to blame it on his disastrous new excuse for a herd dog, but it was purely his own preoccupation. He’d spent the early morning, after the feeding duties were done, searching for Tammy Lofton and going so far as to ride to her trailer to check on her. But there’d been no sign of the woman.
“Something you want to get off your chest?”
Liam realized Mitch was watching him closely. It would be the smartest thing to do to unburden himself to Mitch, get his take on the whole situation with Tammy and the guy chasing her. But she’d asked him not to and he’d respect that—for now. “Nah. I was just being careless. Won’t happen again.”
“Careless is one thing you aren’t, brother.”
No, he wasn’t. It was why he’d earned the nickname Hound Dog from his fellow Green Berets. When he got the whiff of a mission that interested or perplexed him, he’d go after it with methodical zeal and relentless drive.
Aunt Ginny joined them and Mitch hunched down for her to plant a kiss on Charlie’s cheek. She did so and handed him a gingerbread cookie. “Your mama called and said you need your bath.”
When Charlie frowned, Liam gently poked his arm. “Hey, little cowboy. Christmas parade’s tomorrow. Gotta look your best.”
The child brightened and Mitch nodded. “Orders from the conductor. Let’s chug out of here.”
“Choo choo,” Charlie said gleefully, clutching his cookie as they galloped to the door, heading for the small house on the ranch hilltop that Aunt Ginny and Uncle Gus had gifted Jane and Mitch for a wedding present.
Ginny had a file of papers tucked under one arm and a laptop under the other. As accountant and joint owner of Roughwater Ranch, she was never far from her paperwork.
“No cookie for me?” Liam said, pulling a mournful pout.
She laughed. “There’s a dozen in the kitchen for you. I didn’t even bother to wrap them up.”
“Too busy?”
“Insanely.