No One Needs to Know

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No One Needs to Know Page 5

by Debbi Rawlins


  “Yeah, distance is a problem for us. I’d appreciate any help you can give.”

  “Okay,” he said. “You’re all set. Are you sure there’s nowhere else you might need help? I can get Melody in here, if that’s more comfortable.”

  “Melanie.” Annie dropped her shirt. “And no, but thank you. If you’re up for it, we can take a real tour. You can bring your coffee with you, or we could finish it here if you’d rather.” She gave him a quick smile, then handed him his shirt.

  He stood, slipped it on and angled away to tuck it in. When he faced her again, she was drinking her coffee, her gaze focused on something other than him.

  Was she thinking of another life? Of future plans? She understood that the Rocking B Foundation gave sizable grants and gifts. It could turn this little operation into something to be reckoned with, and considering they had access to aircraft, the potential for animal services was huge. Or maybe she was just thinking about how the foundation money, along with the stolen investments, could build her a dream home right across the border in Canada.

  “We can walk and talk,” he said. “That is, if you’re not too sore. But I’d like to grab another cup of coffee.”

  “There’s no such thing as too sore working a ranch. I guess you already know that.”

  Not the way she did. He’d been part of a big machine. Yes, he’d had to learn all the grunt work jobs, then those that took skill. But very few times had he faced the cold of a winter morning alone, when every animal in sight was counting on him for food and shelter and care.

  There was nothing simple about sanctuaries. He’d investigated a hell of a lot of them. Each time, there was one individual or couple who were the lifeblood and soul of the operation. Those who gave up any sense of a normal life to the welfare of the animals.

  She’d been doing it almost on her own for two years. He didn’t have the faintest idea why. Penance made no sense. Not when she could go back to New York and really make things right. How was it he hadn’t anticipated her working like a dog? What had she done with the money she’d already stolen?

  “You know, I’ve got to make a couple of phone calls.” He checked his watch, then made sure he looked at her when he added, “Would it be okay if I met you in the stable in about twenty minutes?”

  There. A flash of panic that was gone in the blink of an eye. Just long enough for him to see her gaze fly to the loft and back. She didn’t want him here alone. Not for anything. But he simply waited her out.

  “Sure. No problem. I’ll see you there.”

  “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

  Annie picked up her coffee mug, then set it in the sink without taking another sip. She hesitated at the door as if she was working out what to say to him, but in the end, she stepped outside. He watched her walk down the path, his phone to his ear.

  The minute she was out of sight, he headed straight up the steps. His heart was beating too quickly, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn’t used to subterfuge. He’d always believed in facing his problems head-on. But this case was the exception to all his rules.

  He saved the obvious for last, moving quickly around the room, looking at the floorboards, the wall for any possible nook where she could have something stashed.

  With no paintings and no closet, there wasn’t much territory to explore, but he took his time. The dresser was filled with clothes, packed tight. Still, he pulled each one all the way out to look underneath the drawer. Nothing.

  The bed was intact, as far as he could tell without stripping it completely, but underneath...

  Coffee cans. Four of them. And an old-fashioned suitcase. That’s what he opened first, checking his watch, appalled at how long everything was taking. She could come back any second, and she’d have every reason to call the cops on him.

  The suitcase was full of paperback books and music CDs. He checked every pocket twice, flipped through the books and popped open the CD cases, but he didn’t find anything noteworthy. Disappointed, he shoved the case back under the bed.

  He hit one of the cans of coffee, and just to be sure, he checked. It was unopened coffee. So was the next, and the next.

  The fourth one had an unsealed envelope. Inside, it was a single sheet of paper with a typed number and password. He was certain the number was for a bank account. There was also a driver’s license in the name of Alison Bishop, with a picture that sort of looked like Annie, and a roll of cash thicker than his fist.

  After he took a picture of the license and the account number, he put it all back under the bed just the way he’d found it. Then he got the hell out of there before she caught him red-handed.

  5

  THE KIDS WERE GONE, AND WITH them, Melanie. It was relatively quiet outside, as quiet as it ever got around Safe Haven. Annie was grateful because she had to calm herself before she went in to see the pregnant mares. They didn’t need her fear and worry, and no one would ever convince her that animals didn’t respond to human energy, good and bad.

  It made perfect sense that Brennan would need to make some business calls, that he’d like to be alone when he made them, and also not have to worry about the background noises that were inescapable on the property.

  She’d already decided that the website photo had not blown her cover. She’d researched Brennan and he was legit. Even Shea had done some of her magic and given him the thumbs-up.

  Besides, a man like Brennan wasn’t the type to go snooping. And even if he did, he wasn’t going to look inside coffee cans stored under her bed, for God’s sake.

  Some deep breathing made her wince, but it also helped calm her down long enough to dismiss her concerns about him discovering her real identity. Which left her wide-open to worry about everything that had actually gone wrong since he’d arrived.

  Annie had known for a while now that wishes and daydreams were a waste of time. That didn’t stop her from wishing that she could start the day over, or at the very least ask Tucker to leave and come back tomorrow.

  She didn’t even dare think that nothing else could go wrong because that was just inviting catastrophe. She still had on her stinky, now bloodstained and torn work clothes. The man she so desperately wanted to impress had walked in on her making a fundamental mistake in caring for animals—one that could have cost them both physically, and certainly may have cost her financially. What foundation wanted to invest in a sentimental idiot?

  Then, to make everything a billion times worse, the libido she’d managed to stifle for two long years had decided to rejoin the party by filling her mind and body with so many hormones she could barely see straight. She’d actually had to bite back a moan when he’d touched her.

  Thank God he’d put his shirt back on. It didn’t erase the memory of his muscled chest and the smattering of dark hair, or his small hard nipples or the perfect V from his broad shoulders to his trim waist. But at least she didn’t have to dig her fingernails into her palm to stop from touching him back.

  Dammit, now she wished she’d brought her coffee. And taken some ibuprofen. She thought about going back to the cabin, but they kept a bottle of aspirin in the stable med kit. She should have offered him something when she’d bandaged him, but with all that chest showing, she’d been distracted.

  “Is everything okay?” Tucker asked from behind her. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

  She must have jumped a foot. She hadn’t heard him walk across the gravel. He had to think she was nuts, standing in the middle of the path, staring at nothing. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, just thinking about... We should go check on the horses.”

  “Right.” He smiled, although it seemed a little forced and made her edgy. “FYI, in my younger days, I spent a lot of time in foaling stalls.”

  “Good, then you can help if it looks like things have progressed that far. I think Glory might foal tonight. She’s been up and down a lot today, sweating like crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if her water’s already broken.”

  “Is this her firs
t?”

  Annie shrugged, but she was relieved that the conversation was squarely in safe territory now. She could talk animals till the cows came home and feel fairly sure she wouldn’t make a misstep. “Don’t know. She arrived pregnant and undernourished. We fattened her up, but it’s impossible to say what that period of malnutrition did to the fetus. So Doc Yardley is on call, and I’ll be setting up camp out here tonight.”

  “You’ve done this a lot, then?”

  “Often enough to know when to call for help.” She stopped at the stable door. “I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said, looking directly at him as the sun cooperated and moved from behind a cloud. The butterflies she’d never expected to feel again came back, but she couldn’t afford not to watch him, because the issue had been bothering her since that first email. “You’re the head honcho of the Rocking B ranch. Your foundation has a director by the name of Rafael Santiago. So how come you’re here instead of him?”

  Oddly, the question made him smile. A half grin, actually, the right side of his mouth lifting for a few seconds. “I think it’s important to do some things personally.”

  “You go to each nonprofit yourself?”

  “Not all of them, no. This is a special case.”

  That made her blink. “Why?”

  “Okay, I admit it.” Tucker gave the impression of shrugging without moving his shoulders. “I may have had some other business in the area, but I figured this might be a nice break from the daily grind.”

  Annie laughed. “You picked a lousy place to find rest and relaxation, Mr. Brennan. I only have six permanent part-time volunteers. Levi and Kathy have been keeping an eye on the mares today, but they leave when the sun sets. I’m pretty much it until eight tomorrow morning, and I’ll have my hands full. I can’t even offer you dinner, unless you want a frozen bean and cheese burrito.”

  The half grin came back. “Hey, at least I got to wrestle a goat.”

  This time her laugh was accompanied by a sense of ease. “To each his own,” she said, although she didn’t for a minute think his answer was silly. Her last real vacation had been spent working at a horse rescue shelter in upstate New York.

  “Come on,” she said. “This is the primary stable, used for horses who need special attention. We’ve got plans in the works for a separate quarantine stable, but we don’t have the funds yet. The economy hasn’t helped us with a lot of donations. Although our board chair, Shea Monroe, has been doing wonders in that area. We’ve got several email campaigns running with more planned.”

  “It’s Tucker,” he said.

  She blinked, stopped walking.

  “Not Mr. Brennan.”

  “Oh, right.” Annie walked him into the stable proper, making sure to move slowly, talk softly. “The stalls are twelve by twelve. That wall serves as the barrier to the half of the stable we use to house the newcomers. There are four stalls back there. The four in the middle are for those who are hurt, and we keep the nearest four for foaling. They’re really too close to the doors but we don’t have much choice.”

  Annie let him take his time looking around the big white structure. Considering it was almost twenty years old, the stable was in good shape. The man who’d originally built Safe Haven had come from Idaho, and he’d worked his tail off to save whatever horses he could.

  Tucker walked past the pregnant mares to check out the other horses that were in sick bay. None of them were contagious, just needing special attention.

  Levi and Kathy were inside the empty foaling stall next to Glory’s. “Hey,” Kathy said, keeping her voice low and calm.

  “How’s she doing?” Annie asked, taking a look at the mommy-to-be. Glory was a sturdy black quarter horse with a blazing white star on her forelock. She was lying down on her nest of fresh straw but her agitation was clear.

  “She’s fine,” Kathy said. “We’ve got a bet going on what time her water’ll break. I say ten.”

  “I think it’s gonna be midnight,” Levi said. “You gonna call Doc Yardley?”

  “He’s supposed to come by later, but everything’s going okay. I can handle it.”

  “You know,” Kathy said, “we can stay.”

  “No need.” It was Tucker’s voice coming from behind her, and Annie jumped, even though he’d kept the words soft. “I’ll stick around.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Annie said. “I can manage, and you just flew in today. Wrestling goats is exhausting.”

  His grin made her want to flip her hair back like a teen at the mall.

  “I’d like to stay,” he said. “We used to tell all our most embarrassing stories waiting for the foals. It was fun.”

  Annie turned to face him, wincing as she tried to cross her arms over her chest. If she’d had a brain, she would have iced some of the worst bruises before heading out to show off the sanctuary. She really needed to get that aspirin. “We’ve got a ton to go over tomorrow, including that ride across the property you asked for in your email. Besides, I don’t recall telling embarrassing stories being an essential part of foaling.”

  His casual wink made her pulse leap. “You just haven’t been to the right stables.”

  Kathy and Levi both laughed, but that got Glory struggling to her feet, so all attention went to her. As soon as she was standing, Annie entered the stall to comfort her. She moved slowly, holding up her hands and whispering the same soft nonsense she had since Glory had been brought in. She’d made a point of touching the mare a lot, letting the horse become familiar with her scent and her hands.

  The foal was moving and there was no sign of excessive distress. With luck, there would be little to do but observe and clean up after the birth. As she left the stall, everything was quiet except for the familiar sounds of horses. Snorts and breathing, shifting straw, a soft nicker from Cocoa, who was waiting her turn to go into labor.

  She walked to the open stable doors, knowing Tucker, Kathy and Levi would follow. As soon as they were far enough away to speak normally, Annie said, “You guys don’t have to stick around. It’s almost six.”

  Kathy looked from Annie to Tucker, then back again. “You’re awfully stiff. Did you put something on your bruises?”

  “I’m fine, Kathy. Thanks.”

  “I brought you that liniment for a reason,” Kathy said. “You’ve got us here for a bit. Go fix yourself up, and stop being a stubborn mule. You might be up all night, for heaven’s sake.”

  Annie wanted to shoo her friends on their way, but Kathy was right. The ointment would help. “All right.” She turned to Tucker. “Other than that cut, are you aching anywhere? Kathy makes up her own salve, which works wonders.”

  “Nope, I’m fine. But I’ll watch out for Glory if you two want to get home.”

  Kathy didn’t even respond to Tucker. Instead, she hustled Annie back to the path toward the cabin, which meant that she wanted to speak to Tucker without Annie hearing.

  Resigned to her fate, Annie gave in to the ache in her hip as she headed for the jar of salve. It didn’t help that it was so easy to picture someone else applying the ointment, someone who looked mighty fine without a shirt on.

  * * *

  TUCKER COULD HAVE USED something to ease the minor aches that had cropped up in the past hour, but he was more interested in paying attention to the couple who were about to give him a heartfelt testimonial. He hadn’t gotten this far in business without being able to read people. In fact, that particular skill had been a primary factor in keeping the Rocking B strong through the recession and the drought.

  Sure enough, Kathy, who looked tired but determined after the eventful day, approached him the moment she could. “Here’s the part that isn’t obvious, Mr. Brennan.”

  That stalled Tucker’s arrogant assumptions in their tracks. An excellent reminder that he wasn’t the only one who could read people.

  “That girl,” Kathy said, pointing in the direction Annie had disappeared, “has gone without basics so she could feed the horses. Not that she
’d ever say a word. We didn’t know in the beginning. But things started to add up. So some of us decided to bring treats, meals, coffee, because she won’t take a penny for herself. Not a penny. Everything goes to the sanctuary.”

  Glory was making some real noise, so they moved inside. Levi turned on the bank of red lights, bathing the space in an eerie kind of beauty, which allowed them to observe but wouldn’t disturb the mare. Her water hadn’t broken, but she was nesting again, rearranging the straw as she prepared for the birth.

  “She hardly ever comes to town,” Levi said, his arms crossed over his broad chest, staring at the horse, not Tucker. “When she does, it’s to get supplies or to find help in one form or another. Not for her, mind you, but for the animals.”

  “Any idea why?” Tucker asked.

  “Why she gives so much, you mean?”

  He nodded at Kathy.

  “She doesn’t talk about herself. We don’t even know where she’s from, really. She just showed up one day, volunteered. It wasn’t two weeks later that Edgar, the man who built Safe Haven, went back to Idaho to be near his grandkids.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.” Tucker gave her a nod. “But I’ll warn you, as I’ve warned Annie. I can’t make any promises. I have a board of directors myself, and I have strict criteria that has to be met before we can offer funding or grants.”

  “Oh, we know that,” Levi said. “But we couldn’t let you leave without telling you that you’ll never spend a wiser dollar. It’s not just the animals who benefit. You should see how much the high school kids are learning. Everyone who comes to volunteer at Annie’s sanctuary is the better for it.”

  “I believe you,” Tucker said. He had no reason not to. For whatever reason, Annie had decided to play her role to the hilt. She clearly needed these people to be on her side. Just like Christian had been so enthusiastic about her before the money went missing.

  Now that he’d found that account number, Tucker was even more certain that whatever Safe Haven was, it was also a cover for Leanna. Or a stepping stone to something bigger. He had some theories about the account number and the license in the coffee can. It had to be an exit strategy, but why hadn’t she used it yet? Was access to the stolen money contingent on some future date? Was someone else holding the key? Another kind of partner, perhaps?

 

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