by MJ Fredrick
Her brain frantic, she tried to remember what she’d helped him unpack, anything to protect herself from the man advancing toward her from the back door. Turning off the light had been a mistake—the intruder was accustomed to the dark. She wasn’t. And at least if the light was still on, she’d know her attacker.
Noah had a gun, but where did he keep it? She hadn't seen. She only heard his voice calling to her from the phone that had bounced back into the kitchen, toward the invader, who bent to scoop it up, and disconnected before tossing it down.
The gun would be in a safe, she was sure, out of the reach of Selena. And she didn't know a combination, or have a key, so that wouldn't do her any good. She needed a baseball bat, something. But she dared not move from in front of Selena’s door.
The invader took advantage of her indecision and lunged. She screamed again, even though there were no neighbors close enough to hear, fearing she was going to wake Selena and bring her into the middle of the danger. The man’s hands grasped her arms and she twisted, trying to remember the fitness classes she’d taken in New York that had supposedly been good for self-defense, too. But she’d never used any of the techniques and had forgotten all of them.
She dropped to the floor, using her weight to pull him off-balance, and lifted her bare legs to kick at him, but she couldn't get much leverage with such small space between them. Terror clawed at her heart, at her lungs, and she felt her vision blur at the edges.
“Devin, stop! Please, stop!”
She didn't know if her attacker was Devin, but saying his name made him hesitate, and she was able to scramble away, down the hall. She almost made it to Noah’s room before he grabbed her ankle and yanked her so that she fell flat on her stomach, all the air rushing out of her. She kicked, and tried to crawl forward, only to be pulled back, her t-shirt riding up so that her bare stomach scraped the carpet. She used all her strength to flip onto her back and kick at his face, but he grabbed her feet and held them apart, pinning one leg to the hallway wall.
God, no. No. She wheezed a breath, wanting to scream again, wondering what good it would do.
“He’s not going to take everything away from me,” the attacker growled.
Devin. She was sure of it now.
“Devin. Don't do this. Think of your kids. Think of Kayla. What would they think if they knew you did something like this?”
“You should have both died in the fire!” And he dropped his weight over her, pinning her to the floor.
*****
“No offense, man, but I am tired of encountering you and your family over and over,” Wyatt said when Noah pulled up in front of the clinic. “Nothing here, no sign of entry. You might want to go in and see if anything is missing, though.”
Noah’s phone rang as he punched in the security code behind the desk. He was surprised to see Miranda’s number, but she probably just wanted to know what was going on. But when he tapped the screen, he didn't hear anything.
Then he heard a scream.
Shit. His worst fear.
He ran out the door, grabbing Wyatt’s arm on the way. “My house. Miranda’s in trouble.”
He didn't know how he got home, how he even remembered where he lived. He was just desperate to get to Miranda, to Selena.
He skidded to a halt in front of the dark house, the gravel from the side of the road spewing from beneath his tires. The scream that rent the air tore at his heart, and he didn't close the truck door, running toward the house, lit by Wyatt’s headlight as the deputy turned into the driveway. Noah knew he should wait, but he didn’t.
He should have left her with his gun. He should have thought about that, should have wondered about an alarm going off when it never had before, should have wondered about the hour. He didn't bother to unlock the door, kicked the door open, but didn't see Miranda. He turned down the hallway and saw the two shapes on the floor in the dim dawn light. He reached down and dragged the man off of Miranda, who scrambled back toward the door, her breathing ragged. Noah took a moment to see her stand—she was okay. He twisted the man around and plowed his fist into the man’s face twice before he went down. Miranda turned on the light as Wyatt came in behind him.
Noah looked down into the dazed and bloody face of Kayla’s husband Devin. He stepped over Devin’s form and wrapped Miranda into his arms. God, she was shaking and hot.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. He—I put up a fight.”
“Miranda.” He didn't want to let her go long enough to inspect her, so he waited a few minutes, cradling her against his chest.
“Selena didn't wake up,” she said against his neck. “I thought she would wake up and he would get her, but she didn’t.”
“What happened?” Wyatt asked, flipping Devin onto his stomach and cuffing his hands behind his back.
“He came through the back door. I was in the kitchen drinking coffee. I tried to find something to use, you know, but I couldn't think. All I could think was I didn't want him to get to Selena.”
Noah smoothed his hand down her hair and held her against him, his own adrenaline draining and making him shake. “Thank you. Jesus, I’m sorry to bring you into this. Let’s get Selena up and take you over to the hospital so they can check you out.” He wanted to know, but didn't want to ask how vulnerable she’d been.
“I’m fine, really. I’m okay. Just scared to death.”
He felt her legs sag, just a bit, and guided her to the bedroom to sit.
“I’m pretty sure this is your arsonist,” Wyatt said, shoving a semi-conscious Devin ahead of him.
“He did say we should have died in the fire.”
Noah shuddered and drew her closer as they sat on the bed, and he pulled the blanket up over her legs to stop her shaking.
Wyatt stopped in the doorway. “Take her to the ER. She’s going into shock. Keep her warm.”
That was all Noah needed to hear. “Where’s your dress?”
She pointed to the end of the bed, and he snagged it for her. She refused to let him help her dress, so he walked out with Wyatt as he loaded Devin into the back of the car.
“We’ll give you a call later,” Wyatt said. “But the charges against your dad will be dropped.” He looked at the young man in the back of the car. “I sure hate to see this happen to another young family. Jesus, what was he thinking? That he could make everything go away by hurting her? Or you?” Wyatt shook his head and got into the vehicle. “Take her to see Jolie, just to be on the safe side, okay?”
“Thanks, Wyatt. No offense, but I hope I don't see you for a long time.”
“Ditto, man.” They shook hands and Wyatt drove off.
Miranda was dressed when he walked back into the house, and gave him a shaky smile. “I guess that clears up the question of who, then.”
He swore and pulled her against his chest again. “Thank you for looking out for her. I wish I’d been here to look out for you.”
“He had a plan, I think. Get you out of the house, come and get us.”
The rage and helplessness filled Noah all over again. “Let’s go back to bed. I want to hold onto you a little longer.”
She shook her head, pulling free. “No, I need to do something. If I lay down, I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about it, how it felt to be that terrified. Please, Noah.”
Whatever she wanted. She was his hero right now.
*****
An hour later, the two of them had made breakfast enough for an army, and Miranda had only burned one pancake, though the other side was plenty gooey. Selena woke up and wandered in happily, oblivious to the drama she’d slept through. They were just sitting down to breakfast when there was a knock at the front door. Noah and Miranda exchanged a look, and Noah rose to answer.
He led Wyatt back into the kitchen, his hat in his hands.
“Deputy,” Miranda welcomed him with a smile. “Want to join us for breakfast?”
“Ah.” He inspected the table. “Wha
t you got?”
“A little bit of everything.” She motioned to a seat and got another dish out of the cabinet.
“Did you get by…to see Jolie?” Wyatt asked, casting a questioning glance in Selena’s direction.
Noah appreciated that he was considering Selena’s feelings. “No, she didn't want to see her so early. She’s doing pretty well.”
“I’m not ready for word to get back to my mother just yet.”
Wyatt sighed as he reached for the plate of bacon. “Yeah, well, that might be a done deal. Word’s all over town already.”
“What? How?”
He motioned with the serving fork, back and forth. “Neighbors. They saw Noah drive up like a bat out of hell, saw me follow, saw me take Devin into the cruiser. Your car is here, so….”
Miranda dropped her head into her hands. “I’m surprised she hasn't called yet.”
“Probably at church,” Wyatt said around a mouthful of pancakes.
“Ugh.”
Noah had forgotten today was Sunday. He’d planned to start taking Selena to services, now that they were closer to town.
“So I came by to bring you up to date on what’s going on with Devin.” He looked at Noah, who nodded his permission to go on. “He was high, as you might expect. He set the alarm at the clinic to get you out of the house, but his target wasn't Miranda. He didn't know she’d be here.”
Noah’s blood chilled. He looked from Wyatt to Selena, and back to Wyatt, who nodded, his jaw set.
“So he’s scum, and we’re really lucky you were here, Miss Bonner.”
Noah reached across the table to take Miranda’s hand and bring it to his lips. Selena smiled at the gesture, completely oblivious to the danger she’d been in.
“So I don't see the judge giving him bail. I don't think he’s going to be a problem for you any longer.”
Once he was done with dinner and his coffee, he rose and plucked his hat from where he’d hung it on the back of his chair. “Thank you for breakfast, and, no offense, but I’d prefer not to see you people for a while, in a professional capacity.”
“Likewise,” Noah drawled, rising.
Wyatt waved him back in his seat. “I’ll see myself out. You all enjoy the rest of your day.”
Noah had every intention.
Chapter Twenty Two
Noah nudged his two dogs out of the way of the kitchen table as he carried a handful of glasses over. He didn't know what he’d been thinking, inviting his dad, Ben and Miranda’s mother and Allison to dinner all together. It was going to be a hot mess, as Selena liked to say, but they needed to get to know one another, especially after what he had planned for today.
Miranda, who had essentially moved in the few belongings she had, was at the office, but had promised to come home early. She knew her family was coming, but not his. He didn't want her to have a clue beforehand.
So most of the cooking had fallen to him, though he’d gotten a cake from Riley’s for the occasion.
He stood back and inspected the table, hoping it was up to Cindy Bonner’s standards. His new table wasn't quite big enough for seven people, so they’d be squeezed together a bit. He hoped that didn't add to the tension.
His dogs, named Rhett and Scarlett though they were both female, who he’d rescued from the shelter in Three Rivers the week after the break-in, alerted just before the doorbell rang.
“Time to get this show on the road.”
He opened the door to Mrs. Bonner and Allison, dressed a little more casually than they’d been for dinner at their house. He wondered if they suspected the reason he had invited them.
“Ladies, welcome. Come in, make yourself comfortable. Miranda isn't home from the office yet, but she shouldn't be long.”
“Are we early?” Mrs. Bonner asked, looking around the little house, a fraction of the size of their ranch house. “You don't have very many things, do you?”
“We’re still figuring out what we want.” He motioned to the small living room, which finally had two couches that took up most of the space, a flat-screen TV that he’d mounted to the wall, but he didn't exactly know how to hide the wires to the cable box. They hadn't found any wall art they liked, so the room was pretty spare. “Would you ladies like some tea, or maybe a glass of wine?” Miranda had picked out the wine, so he knew it would be decent.
“A glass of wine would be great,” Allison said. “Would you like some help?”
“I’ve got it.”
She followed him into the kitchen anyway.
“Is this what I think it is? Are you asking her to marry you?”
His face heated as he concentrated on opening the bottle of wine, which he realized he’d never done before. Allison took the bottle and the bottle opener from him and opened it with an expert twist.
“I am.”
She looked toward the table. “And we’re not the only guests?”
“I invited Dad and Ben. They’re picking up Selena from work on the way.”
Allison blew out a whistle. “This is going to be a very interesting evening.”
Oh, it was. Noah tensed when the doorbell rang again. He’d really hoped Miranda would be home before his dad and Ben got here, in case they had to do some zone defense, but looked like she was running late. Hopefully not too late.
He’d actually told his dad and Ben the purpose of the dinner, so was pleased to see his dad had cleaned up, wore a button-down shirt, his hair neatly cut and styled. Ben had even shaved. Noah couldn't hold back a grin when he admitted them into the house.
“She’s going to know something’s up when she looks at the two of you,” he said, shaking each man’s hand. Damn, it felt good to have let go of all the anger and resentment. He wouldn't have been able to without Miranda.
Selena, who he didn't trust not to blab, didn't know why they were having a party, but she loved having all these people in her house.
“Do you want to see my room?” she asked to no one in particular, so everyone followed her down the hall and around the corner. Rhett and Scarlett wound around their legs, excited to have so many humans to trip.
“So this is where all the color is in this house,” Mrs. Bonner said, not without humor, as she looked around the brightly decorated room, the walls covered with pictures and mementos from the ranch house, as well as pictures Selena herself had drawn.
“Noah said I could fix it however I like, as long as I pick up after myself.”
“Noah’s a good brother,” Mrs. Bonner said, a touch of fondness in her tone that surprised him.
“Hey, where is everybody?” Miranda called from the back door. “Sorry I’m late! Noah, is that Ben’s truck?”
Noah squeezed past the crush of people in Selena’s room to greet her with a soft kiss.
“Sorry I’m so late. I got a new client and we had some paperwork to fill out.”
“It’s fine. Everyone just got here.”
The “everyone” he spoke of filed into the kitchen.
“Let’s all have a seat, and I’ll get it on the table,” he said, not wanting to delay any longer. He indicated that his father and brother sit on the same side of the table as Selena, Allison’s family across, he on one end, and Miranda on the other. Though he’d prefer to sit beside her, he liked looking down the table at her, and besides, the families might need a buffer.
So far everyone was very polite as they passed the around the roast and the potatoes and carrots, as they plucked crescent rolls from the bowl. Miranda smiled down the table at him and all was right with the world.
“Are you enjoying your job at the taqueria?” Mrs. Bonner asked Rey, as polite as could be.
“Yes, in fact, I’ve come up with a couple of new combinations that they’re going to add to the menu next month. Turns out I’m pretty good at cooking.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back to being a mechanic?”
He looked down at his plate and shook his head. “There’s too much competition now, and I’m not up-to
-date on these new cars. A lot changed in fourteen years.”
Noah held his breath, waiting for someone to make a comment on Rey’s incarceration, but no one did.
“I like cooking, though, so that’s good. You have a little more creativity, and my bosses seem to like what I do. And my being there hasn't hurt business.”
“And you, Ben? Did I hear you’re working for the McKennas now?”
“Yes, ma’am, living out there on the ranch in the bunkhouse. It’s hard work, but they’re good to work for. I already talked to Trace about getting some time off to lead hunting trips in the fall. It’s what I love to do, but can’t do that all year.”
“I’m glad to know it. The McKennas are good people.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Talk turned to the Bluebonnet Festival, and Noah was stunned that Mrs. Bonner was able to talk both her father and brother into volunteering. When she turned her attention to him, he raised his hands in surrender.
“Whatever it is you need me to do.”
Everyone laughed, and Miranda practically glowed at him.
Finding the time to fulfill the purpose of the dinner was harder than he expected. After everyone declared themselves stuffed, he chased them out of the kitchen to clear the table for dessert. Miranda offered to help, since she hadn't helped to cook, but he shooed her into the living room, needing her to entertain her family and his father. Ben stayed back to help.
“Dishwasher. Fancy,” his brother remarked, opening the appliance.
“Yeah, look at me, moving into the twenty-first century.”
“Thanks for helping me get on with the McKennas. Sorry I was so stubborn before.”
Noah grunted as he moved all the leftovers to one end of the counter so he could start washing. “Nothing new there.”
“You okay with living in the bunkhouse?”
“It’s all right. Dad has the ranch to himself. I imagine he’ll get pretty lonely out there. I wonder if Lupita will come back to visit.”
“Would you be okay with that?”
“I don't know. He’d really have to show that he’s good enough for her. But I think, I hope, he’s changed enough, matured enough to love someone. And hell, I’d hate to think of him being alone forever.”
