Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission

by Marie Ferrarella

  “I suppose not.” Susannah tried a half smile, but she didn’t look at all convinced.

  “How about if I spend the morning with you and Melody?” he offered, working hard to sound polite and even-tempered. “I’ll take a few hours off so we can have a good talk.”

  “I can’t ask you to ignore your work for me.” Another extremely sober expression schooled her face as she stood rooted to the spot. “I know as it stands you aren’t crazy about me being here. Please don’t do anything you wouldn’t ordinarily do on my account.”

  That sounded like more of her cult programming coming to the surface—too timid, too apologetic almost to the point of paranoia. Her exit counseling might turn out to be much more than he could handle.

  Still, he had to try while he had a chance with her. The last time, he’d been too late. He refused to accept those consequences with Susannah.

  “Let me worry about my time.” He set down the pan he’d been drying and took her lightly by the shoulders in as friendly a manner as he could manage. “I would like to spend the morning with you and the baby. I want to.”

  Whoa. Electric tingles spiked up his hand and down his spine from the spot where he touched her. Without warning, he’d wanted a lot more from her than just her trust. Sensual images of the two of them together nearly blinded him. Gritting his teeth, he tried to stem the sudden ringing in his ears and stood there like an idiot, pretending nothing was different.

  Maria spoke up again. “If he wants the two of you to have a talk, I think you owe it to him to listen. Don’t you?”

  Susannah’s eyes widened again, and her shoulders tightened beneath his grip, as if she was under assault by a Devotee. “Oh, yes. Of course. Certainly. What time would you like us to be ready?”

  Sure she hadn’t felt the same things he had, Nathan sighed deep and long, releasing her shoulders and hanging his head. “This won’t be a death sentence, just a discussion. If anything I have to say upsets you too much, you’ll be free to walk out.”

  Her shoulders relaxed, and he could see the tension begin to seep from her jawline. “All right. But I’d better go back and be ready for Melody’s next feeding. I think I hear her starting to fuss again. Can we call it a night for now?”

  “Sure.” He felt like an ogre. “We’ll take this up again in the morning after breakfast.”

  Susannah spun to the baby monitor on a far counter and shut it off. “See you tomorrow, then. Good night.”

  She disappeared out the kitchen door before he could say a word.

  “You scare her.” Maria began cleaning out the empty sink.

  “You think?” Nathan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to do about her. She’s either looking at me as if I came riding in on a white horse and saved her and the baby from certain death, or she’s shaking like a leaf in a Wyoming wind and staring at me as if I was the villain with a whip in my hands.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m seeing something altogether different in her eyes when she looks at you.”

  “What’s that?” He knew what he’d hoped to see, but that didn’t mean it was there.

  Instead of answering, Maria began putting the dried pots away in the cabinet. “It might help if you didn’t raise your voice. Just think of what she’s been through. Heaven knows what them Devotees caused her to believe.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “All those folks there in Cold Plains are in danger. You know that better than most. I swear, people don’t leave the place alive. Susannah got lucky to find you, and I think she knows that.”

  Nathan knew all about the danger. He knew it well. He just hadn’t been able to come up with any proof when he’d made his accusations to the FBI. It was like living next door to a fireworks factory. Any day the whole place could go up.

  But this ranch belonged to his family. It was his heritage. And he was damned well determined not to be scared off his own land.

  “I want to help her,” he said softly.

  “Because you never got the chance to help Laurel? Or because you’re determined to get the better of Samuel Grayson?”

  “Yes. And no.” He was torn about his true motives. “It’s more than that.” Every time he looked at her, his body went hard and his brain turned to mush. “Susannah’s got so much potential. I’ve never met anyone so patient, supportive and empathetic. She could be anything she wants to be. Don’t you see that in her, too?”

  “I do. And I can also see something more in your eyes when you look at her but believe she isn’t paying attention.”

  Nathan wasn’t about to get into this discussion. He knew what he’d felt on occasion bordered on pure lust, but he refused to drag it out for Maria to make fun of.

  Even if he could make a dent in Susannah’s cult programming, she and Melody would never be truly safe on the ranch. They couldn’t stay forever or the Devotees would be sure to find them.

  “It’s getting late,” he said, taking the chicken’s way out. “I’d better go study up on those counseling texts again before morning.”

  He put the dish towel up to dry and turned to go. “Wish me luck with her.”

  “You don’t need luck, son. Just follow your heart.”

  * * *

  “Are you comfortable?” Nathan had made a big pot of coffee for her and had seated them both at the kitchen table.

  “Uh, just a sec. Gotta turn on the baby monitor.”

  Susanna stood up and flipped it on. Jittery, she didn’t know what to expect, but she was determined to avoid being bullied.

  Sitting back down, she pulled her chair closer. “What exactly are we going to talk about?”

  He tilted his head like it was no big deal. “Nothing much. You’ve already made the decision to leave the Devotees, which you must know I applaud. So this morning I’d like to find out how you feel about that. Can we talk it over?”

  “Not much to say. I’d really started to love Cold Plains, and I’m going to miss Samuel’s lectures. But Melody and I had no choice.”

  “You’ve had some time to think over the decision and look back at what you know about the Devotees.” His voice was steady, even, calm. “Have your attitudes changed any since you left?”

  “About the Devotees? Definitely. Something is seriously wrong there. All the rumors can’t be based on nothing.”

  “Hmm.” Nathan sat back and took a sip from his mug. “I’m going to be honest with you. There’s even more going on behind the scenes than you know. People, Devotees of Samuel Grayson, have died. Been murdered. And quite a few of us believe it was at Samuel’s orders.”

  Closing her eyes as though that would shut out his words, Susannah shook her head. “How can you even suggest such a thing? He’s a good man. All you have to do is listen to him and you’ll know that. Maybe one of the Devotees…”

  Letting her words die, she stared down into her coffee. “He changed my life, Nathan. He changed my whole worldview. He can’t be a murderer.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about how you’re changed first and save the rest for another time.”

  Nathan cleared his throat and continued, “You feel changed. But now you have to go back to the real world. How are you going to manage without Samuel? I think what you’ve been through should be called thought reform. Samuel tells you how to think and the Devotees provide the insulated environment so their way is all you know. That’s the definition of a cult, Susannah.”

  “No way.” She didn’t want to consider the possibility.

  But the more she thought about the Devotees and the rumors swirling about them, the more confused she became.

  “Having trouble thinking clearly?”

  “Maybe. My mind seems a little foggy. I never used to be like that.”

  “Well, rec
ognizing that is a start in the right direction.” Nathan stood and stretched. “Need to move around a little? Want a snack or something?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t…”

  “Nathan?” A very deep male voice interrupted her sentence, followed by a knock on the open kitchen door.

  “Come in, Mac. Something wrong?”

  The man she knew as Nathan’s foreman came into the kitchen. “Not that I know of. But Ford McCall is outside wanting to speak to you. He says he won’t take but a few minutes of your time.”

  Nathan glanced at her, and the look in his eyes set her nerves on edge again.

  “Who’s Ford McCall?” She noticed her voice had developed a shaky tone. Shoving the chair away from the table, she stood on wobbly legs.

  “A local cop. He works for the Cold Plains Police Department.”

  “A Devotee?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve known Ford since high school, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him lately.”

  Nathan turned back to Mac. “Give it a few minutes. Go back to where you left Ford by the long route. Then show him in here to the kitchen. I’ll talk to him.”

  Mac left the room, and Susannah felt frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do.

  Nathan picked up her coffee mug, rinsed it and set it in the sink. “Go back to the bedroom with Melody. I’ll call you when it’s safe to come out.”

  She scurried out the door and didn’t look back. What on earth would she do if the Devotees found Melody? She couldn’t live without her baby. Losing Melody would kill her.

  * * *

  By the time she arrived back in the bedroom and quietly closed the door, Susannah was already hyperventilating. She knew it was crazy to worry. Nathan had promised that the Devotees would not take Melody. And for whatever reason, she trusted Nathan.

  Regulating her breathing, she quietly paced the carpet and tried to clear her mind, but some of the things he’d said were reverberating in her brain. Instead of making her mind clearer, she felt foggier.

  “Nate?” A sudden booming voice shot through her fog, so loud and clear she could swear it came from a few feet away.

  “Morning, Ford. Long time.” That was Nathan’s voice. “Want a cup of coffee?”

  She spun to the sound and discovered the voices were coming from the baby monitor. Had she accidently hit the wrong buttons when she’d turned it on in the kitchen?

  “No, thanks,” the other male voice replied. “I can only stay a few minutes. Mind answering a few questions?”

  “That depends on the questions.”

  Susannah looked down and found she’d been wringing her hands. She stuck them in her pockets.

  Someone cleared his throat. “I have a computer-generated photo of a woman I’d like you to look at.”

  “Who’s in the photo, and why computer generated?” Nathan sounded hesitant. Was he afraid he would be seeing a photo of her?

  “Give it a look. I had the police morgue shot photo-enhanced so that the bullet wound in the head would not distract from the rest of the identifying features.”

  Silence for a moment. Followed by Nathan’s voice. “I don’t recognize her. Should I?”

  “I was hoping you would. Her body was found four years ago up the road in Greybull. So far, she’s a Jane Doe.”

  “Why ask me? In fact, why are you doing the asking in Cold Plains?”

  “Look, Nate. We’ve been friends a long time, right? I’m going to tell you a few things about this investigation, but I expect you to keep them under wraps.”

  “You have my word.”

  Nathan sounded so serious. She decided he must believe the policeman was not a Devotee or he wouldn’t be willing to talk or even listen for this long.

  She willed herself to also listen carefully through the monitor for the slightest problem. If necessary, she could take Melody out the window and hide.

  “The FBI are involved,” Ford said softly. “This Jane Doe’s body had a tiny black D visible on her right hip when she was found. You know what that means, don’t you?”

  “I know.” Nathan’s sigh came through loud and clear. “My ex-wife’s body had the same D tattooed on her right hip when she was found. It’s Samuel Grayson’s personal mark. The one he only puts on loyal Devotees.”

  Another moment of silence and then Nathan spoke again. “So, you think Samuel murdered the Jane Doe like he did Laurel?”

  “Yeah. And like at least three other women we’ve found in the vicinity over the past few years.”

  Susannah swallowed hard and tried to keep the contents of her stomach from coming up in her throat.

  “But, as in Laurel’s case, no one can prove anything?” Nathan seemed to spit the words out.

  “That’s right. The only link between all the women is the D. I figured if I can pin down this woman’s identity, I might be able to trace her movements back here.”

  Susannah could hear rustling but no voices for several moments.

  Finally, Nathan spoke. “You said bullet wound to the head. Like my ex-wife’s?”

  “Similar. But we can’t get a match on the bullets.”

  “We? The FBI? You can’t be working with your police chief on this?”

  “Bo Fargo? Not a chance. In fact, he’d fire my ass if he learned I was doing this investigation in my spare time.”

  Nathan’s chuckle was low, but she caught it anyway. “I didn’t think so. So who in the FBI? I hadn’t heard they were anywhere around here. Except for Hawk. I did hear he and Carly may have gotten back together after all these years apart.”

  Now Ford seemed to be the one to hesitate. “Hawk is working on the problem—quietly. Our old high school buddy means to find answers this time around.”

  Both voices faded out of the monitor for a second. Then, Melody suddenly awoke from her nap. Instead of her usual tiny mewling sounds upon awakening, she let out the loudest cry her mother had ever heard coming from her baby’s mouth.

  Through the monitor, she also heard the policeman say, “Since when is there a baby on the ranch?”

  * * *

  Nathan didn’t quite know what to do. He’d never heard Melody cry that way. Was the baby in trouble?

  “Hold on a sec,” he told Ford. “I’ll be right back.”

  He raced down the hall to his bedroom and flung open the door only to find Susannah changing the baby’s diaper.

  “Has the policeman left?” Susannah finished and lifted the baby in her arms.

  “No, not yet. Is the baby all right?”

  “She’s fine. I think she must be getting her strength back. And her lungs seem to be getting stronger.”

  He relaxed and willed his pulse to stop pounding. “I’ll say. We could hear her clearly in the kitchen.”

  “What’ll we do?” Her eyes had that vulnerable look in them again.

  His gut twisted at the thought of her coming to any harm. “I think you two should meet my old friend Ford. I’ve come to the conclusion he isn’t working with the Devotees.”

  To his surprise, Susannah nodded her head without any fuss. “I think you’re right.” Her lips turned up in the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. “We’ll join you for a moment, but then I need to feed the baby.”

  Why was she suddenly so easygoing about meeting someone from the Cold Plains police?

  The question must’ve shown on his face, because she laughed a little and said, “I heard your conversation. Somehow I must’ve hit the wrong buttons on the baby monitor in the kitchen and could hear every word.”

  She’d heard all that about his ex-wife’s death? And about Samuel being a serial killer?

  “Um, do you want to talk about what you heard?”

  “Not rig
ht now. Maybe later. Let’s go meet your friend.” She turned and marched out the door.

  Nathan tried to rationalize the turn of events. Maybe it was for the best. He’d been trying to find a way to ease her into accepting that Samuel was one of the bad guys. Maybe having Ford tell her first would pave the way.

  She had to accept that Samuel was not all good and all powerful before she could shake her cult programming for good. He could hardly wait until Ford left to talk to her about it some more.

  Speeding up his steps, Nathan hit the kitchen doorway shortly before Susannah and the baby did. “Ford, there’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet.”

  Ford turned from the coffeepot just in time to see Susannah entering the room. His eyes went wide, and he set down the mug he’d been holding.

  “Hi,” Susannah said without even the hint of a smile. “I’m Susannah Paul, and this is my baby, Melody.”

  Ford nodded, but the questions were clearly swirling through his eyes. “I think I’ve seen you in Cold Plains, Ms. Paul. But you were still expecting the last time I saw you around town.”

  “Please call me Susannah, and Melody will be three weeks old tomorrow. I haven’t been in town since then.”

  Nathan turned to Ford. “You’re welcome to a cup of coffee if that’s what you were about to do. I expect you’ll want to hear Susannah’s story.”

  “Thanks.” But Ford never moved a muscle. “Susannah, aren’t you a Devotee of Samuel Grayson’s?”

  It was her turn to nod. “If you’ll give me a few minutes to feed Melody and put her back down, I’d be happy to tell you how things changed.”

  A thrill went up Nathan’s spine as he heard her say those words. She felt things had changed again? His positive influence might be working after all.

  Instead of feeling overjoyed at the prospect of her being helped, however, his mind wandered off to all the things he would like to say—to do—to her when she was free of the cult’s influence. Hell, this whole deal was getting more complicated by the moment.

  CHAPTER 6

  “So you’re saying Cold Plains’ pretty look is all a fantasy? That none of it is real?”