Shay pulled out of the parking lot. Mac was filling him in, explaining the situation without going into details about how they’d gotten into it. Annalise appreciated that he didn’t point out that she had left the safety of the ranch. She appreciated him, but that didn’t mean she should have agreed to dinner. She had almost taken it back, almost told him that dinner wasn’t a good idea. Then he had smiled, and all she had been able to think about were all the reasons it would be.
Mac was a good guy.
She knew that.
And maybe she was ready to meet a good guy, to go to dinner with him, to find out if one dinner led to another. She just wasn’t sure her heart would ever be ready to be hurt again.
The trip back to the ranch took less time than Annalise wanted it to. As they pulled through up to the gates that led onto the property, she scanned the area, searching for signs that they were being watched. A bullet didn’t need to be fired close-range to kill someone. A good sniper could take someone out from hundreds of yards away.
Seamus punched in the gate code as Mac recited it.
The gates swung open, closing behind them as they drove through. She should have felt safer, but she imagined being watched from one of the hills outside the property.
“You’ve got security cameras and fences, but the area around the ranch has plenty of places for snipers to hide,” Shay said as if he had read her mind.
“The houses are far enough back be out of range.”
“Good planning.”
“I didn’t plan it. My great-grandfather did, but it’s worked out nicely.”
“It’s a great spread, Mac. I should have come out for a visit long before now.” Shay followed the long driveway past several pastures and up to the front door of the main house. The one-story brick home sprawled across a lush yard, the U-shaped building surrounded by fruit trees and a white picket fence.
From the first day she had arrived at Sweet Valley Ranch, Annalise had thought the house was the stereotypical ranch home. Beautiful but understated, well-cared-for but not ostentatious. She had only been inside few times. Once during her interview for the job as assistant cook. The second time, to help the housekeeper carry in cleaning supplies. She’d been there for an employee Christmas party and for a Thanksgiving meal. Other than that, she had spent her time in the kitchen, the dining hall or her cabin.
She followed Mac and Shay inside, trying to ignore the voice in her head screaming that she wasn’t safe, that she would have been better off staying alone in the seedy motel than returning to the place where a traitor was hiding. Mac had assured her that she would be safe, and she had to believe him. Otherwise, she’d start running and she wouldn’t stop.
A small foyer opened into a central family room, a huge stone fireplace taking up one wall. The house had probably been built in the fifties, but it had been well maintained, the hardwood floors still gleaming, the walls painted a neutral gray that contrasted with the bright white trim. Area rugs and a leather sectional made the large room inviting. During the Christmas party, the room had been decorated with a Christmas tree, garland and lights. A nativity set had been placed on a table in the center of the room, and guests had moved around it as they’d chatted and laughed.
Annalise glanced at Mac, wondering if he’d had any part of decorating for the holidays. Probably. He seemed to take part in all the activities on the ranch. He was often covered in dust and dirt, heading in from the field, the setting sun glinting in his hair. She had found herself watching him more often than she wanted to admit. He was eye-catching, like a stained-glass window in a Victorian home or a daisy in a field of dandelions.
A daisy in field of dandelions?
She was obviously exhausted and in serious need of sleep. She wasn’t a flowery kind of girl. She liked books and chipped vases and old things that people had used hundreds of years before she was born. She did not spend her time thinking about fields of daises and dandelions. She certainly didn’t waste it mooning over a man. Moreno had discovered her hiding place. He had sent men to kill her. That was where all her attention needed to be.
“What now?” she asked, suddenly filled with the need to do something.
The men had been talking quietly on the opposite side of the room, Mac leaning against the fireplace mantel, the five-o-clock shadow on his face giving him a scruffy, tough appearance. He met her eyes, offering a quick smile that made butterflies take flight in her stomach and a dozen dead dreams spring to life in her heart.
This wasn’t good.
It couldn’t be good.
First, because she wasn’t looking for a relationship.
Second, because Mac lived in Texas, she lived in Boston, and one day they would be living thousands of miles apart.
Third, because...
She couldn’t think of another reason. Not one that made sense. She couldn’t tell herself that she didn’t want to be hurt again, because she didn’t believe that Mac would ever hurt her. Not intentionally. She couldn’t say that he wasn’t the kind of guy she was attracted to, because she was obviously very attracted to exactly his type.
Her cheeks heated at the thought, and she glanced away.
“I’m going to have you stay in one of the guest rooms tonight. We’ll go to your cabin and grab some of your things after I make a few phone calls.”
“I’m not going to hide in a bedroom while you and Shay take care of my problems for me,” she said, her voice a little sharper than she intended. Being attracted to him made her feel vulnerable. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to. It wasn’t one she liked.
“I don’t recall saying that you would be,” he responded calmly.
“Right. Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“You’re very quick to apologize,” he commented, grabbing a few logs from behind the fireplace and crouching down to set them in place.
“When I’m wrong,” she replied. There were matches in an old cigar box on the mantel. She grabbed a couple and handed them to him.
“Why would you apologize otherwise?” He placed tinder in with the logs and lit a match, tossing it on top of the pile. Flames licked at the dry wood, crackling happily as he straightened and met her eyes.
There was a smudge of dirt on his cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes. A thin white scar stretched from his hairline down to his ear. Another sliced across the column of his neck near the jugular vein. She tried not to think about him wounded, bleeding, holding his dying friend, but of course, that was where her mind went. To Mac the way he must have been when he’d returned home after his time in the military—wounded and scarred, haunted by memories that no one should have.
“Anna?” he prodded, studying her as carefully as she was studying him. The chemistry between them stretched like a taut cord, pulling her closer to his arms.
She had been there before, hugged close to his chest, listening to the comforting thud of his heart.
She backed up. “You said you wanted to make some phone calls?”
“I want to see if River found the guys who were after you last night. I also need to call Daniel and check in again. He needs to be working on his end to find the leak and seal it.”
“If the leak is on his end,” Seamus said. He had a cell phone in hand and was dialing a number. He pressed it to his ear, striding to the French doors that led out onto a patio.
He stepped outside, closing the door so they couldn’t hear the conversation.
“What’s he doing?” she asked, trying not to look into Mac’s eyes. She needed to focus on solving her problems. Not making new ones for herself. Dinner with Mac was one thing. Falling for him? That was something else entirely.
But she was going to fall.
If she wasn’t very careful.
If she didn’t guard her heart.
If she didn’t do everything possible to not fall.
“Calling some associates in Boston who might be hearing rumors on the street.”
“Rumors?”
“About who might have been paid to come out here to find you.”
“Right.” She crossed the room, putting distance between them and trying to clear her head so she could think.
“What’s wrong, Anna?” Mac said quietly.
She met his eyes. Just exactly like she knew she shouldn’t. He had followed her, and they were so close she could see flecks of silver and blue in his irises, so close she could count the tiny smile lines that fanned out from the corners of his eyes.
So close she could have reached out and touched him if she’d wanted to.
She wanted to, but she shouldn’t.
They were two people brought together by unusual circumstances. When circumstances changed, they would go back to their lives.
Wouldn’t they?
“I’m worried.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve got some very dangerous people very unhappy with you. If worry makes you cautious, I’m all for it.”
“I’m not worried about that. I mean, I am worried about that, but I’m also worried about you.” She’d always been a straight shooter. She didn’t believe in hedging around something. If it needed to be said, she said it with as much diplomacy and kindness as she could manage. But saying what was on her mind and in her heart regarding Mac? That wasn’t as easy as she wanted it to be.
“I know how to take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Of course, I do. You and Seamus are risking your lives to keep me safe, and if something were to happen—”
“It would be because we understood the risks and accepted them. Not because of you.”
“That wouldn’t change the fact that you were injured because of me. I could never forgive myself if that happened.”
“Never is a long time.”
“And death is a permanent state of being. You have a ranch and a bunch of people working on it that are relying on you to keep things running.”
“I will try very hard not to die, Anna. Does that help?” he said with a hint of amusement in his eyes that made her want to do exactly what she knew she shouldn’t and reach out to trace the lines near his eyes and smooth his hair into place.
“That isn’t the only thing I’m worried about. I’m worried about the way I feel when we’re together. About what’s going to happen after this is over, if I make the mistake of falling for you.” There. She’d said it.
“Why would it be a mistake?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure what response she had expected, but it wasn’t that.
“That’s a good question,” she replied. “I need a little time to think of an answer.”
“If that’s the case, maybe the answer isn’t one you need to spend time worrying about,” he said, tucking a lose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers calloused and rough, his touch gentle. She lost herself for a moment. Lost every thought about how dangerous it would be to fall in love with someone who lived a world apart from her.
“Maybe not,” she murmured, leaning toward him as he leaned toward her. His lips touched hers, a gentle caress that reminded her of all the good things in the world. Sunshine. Laughter. Family on Christmas morning.
When he moved back, she wanted to step toward him again, to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in the scratchy wool of his coat. To allow herself, for just a little while, to believe she would always find safety in his arms.
A hard rap at the door pulled her from the moment, and she jumped back, swinging toward the sound.
“Looks like I’m not going to have to call River,” Mac said, gesturing toward the large bay window and the police cruiser parked out front as he walked to the door and opened it.
* * *
River paced the room, his frustration and anger obvious in every step he took and every word he didn’t say.
“I don’t know what you were thinking,” he said, his words clipped, his expression hard. He had been to the ranch hundreds of times. Always as a friend. They’d sat on the patio and talked about life a couple times a week every summer for as long as Mac had been running the place.
“I was thinking that people wanted Anna dead. They wanted me dead and sitting in your office waiting for them to find us wasn’t a good plan.”
“And you didn’t think to inform me of that?”
“I wasn’t thinking much of anything except that I needed to get somewhere safe and go through my options.”
“You were worried I was involved,” River said. There was no accusation in his voice. It was a statement.
“I didn’t think you were involved, but I wasn’t taking chances. Someone on the ranch or in town tipped off Moreno. Until I know who, it pays to be cautious.”
“I can’t fault you for that, but I don’t appreciate having to chase your trail all over town,” River muttered. “Briarwood relies on my deputies to keep things safe, and we’re not doing a good job of it if we’re all off on a wild-goose chase trying to save your hide.”
“Has it occurred to you that one of your deputies could be involved?” Seamus inserted himself into the conversation, his relaxed demeanor belying the sharpness in his gaze. Like Mac, he didn’t trust many people. He certainly wasn’t going to trust a stranger.
“It’s occurred to me that anyone in this town or on the ranch could be. I’ve already run phone records on my deputies. So far, I haven’t seen anything suspicious.”
“You have those printed out?” Seamus asked.
“I do, but I’m not handing them off to anyone. They’re my responsibility. I’ll finish going through them.”
“Understood, Sheriff, but many hands make light work. Or so my grandmother always said,” Seamus responded, his Irish brogue thick, his expression hard.
“Your grandmother was right, so how about we work as a team to bring Moreno’s hit men down?” River responded. “My deputies have been patrolling town and the area around Sweet Valley Ranch. So far, they’ve found nothing. No abandoned vehicles. No signs of one. I was hoping we might find some tire tracks, but we’ve come up empty.”
“They moved the vehicle before the snow blew in. Or, they’re on a side road that hasn’t been searched.” Mac could think of a few dozen dirt roads that wound through the area. Most of them were nearly impassable this time of year, but someone who wanted to stay hidden would be highly motivated to try.
“There are too many roads to search effectively in vehicles. We might be able to get the state police to bring out a helicopter, but not until the weather clears.”
“Right now, I want to focus on footage from my security cameras,” Mac said, explaining the tracking device he had found attached to the pedometer on Anna’s shoe.
“The shoes have stayed in your cabin when they’re not on your feet?” Seamus asked.
“Where else would they be?” she responded. She looked tired, her face pale, her eyes shadowed. Mac refused to allow himself to think about how smooth her skin was, how sweet her lips.
He shouldn’t have kissed her, but he didn’t regret it.
“On your porch? Airing out?”
“I always bring them inside, and I always lock my door. Whoever planted the tracking device had a key or picked the lock.”
“The security camera should give us some answers,” Mac said. “How about we grab your things, Anna? You can rest while we go through the footage.”
“We all could probably use some rest,” she replied.
“Or some coffee,” Seamus intoned. “You have any around here, Mac?”
“I’ll brew a pot after we get back. The security footage is on the main hard drive in my office. That’s also where I keep the spare keys for the guest and employee cabins.”
“Do you have a security
camera in there?” Seamus asked as they stepped outside. The storm had died, the clouds receding to reveal a pristine blue sky. Sunlight glinted off the ice-coated foliage, creating a winter wonderland outside the front door.
Mac had enjoyed summers at the ranch when he was a kid.
As an adult, he loved the slower pace of winter, the crisp mornings and cold nights. Firelight playing on the walls of the great room as he sipped coffee after a long day.
He had kept the property the way his great-grandfather and grandfather had built it, adding a few small log cabins to entice city dwellers to the wonder of ranch life. There was a bunkhouse a half mile from the main house where ranch hands stayed during the hectic calving season. A few employee cabins were nearby, rough-cut log structures that had been built to house the cooking staff and ranch foreman. Back when his grandfather had been running cattle, the business had made enough to survive but not enough to pay well. Free room and board had enticed hardworking farmers who had fallen on tough times and needed to rebuild their lives.
Since Mac had taken over, the dude ranch had become the bread and butter of the operation. Guests were willing to pay good money to spend a week living on the ranch, riding the trails on pack horses that had been trained to accommodate inexperienced riders, eating food by a bonfire at night and sleeping in posh log cabins that offered all the amenities they were used to at home. Between that and the cattle business, Mac was able to pay his employees decent salaries. Most of them chose to live in town. After nearly two decades of living in ranch housing, even Lucas had opted out. He had purchased a house in town the previous year, and he’d seemed happy with the change.
That had left an empty cabin. When Anna arrived, he’d assigned it to her. Like the bunkhouse, it was a half mile away from the main property, a sturdy structure with two bedrooms, a small kitchen and a living area. They could have walked there easily, but he didn’t want to take chances. Until they knew who the traitor was, he couldn’t count on the ranch being a safe place for Anna to hide.
Hidden Witness Page 14
