Violet frowned, too tired to have to deal with major decisions but desperate not to be thrust into a volatile situation. “I can...hire a private nurse.”
“Derek,” Emma started, clicking her ball point pen closed and clipping it to her pad, “we have plenty of rooms at the ranch. With Tate and I both staying in the main house until this case is closed, she’ll have protection. Plus you can check in on her anytime.”
Derek arched an eyebrow, and Violet shook her head. “I couldn’t impose. Surely, there’s some other—”
“The ranch is the perfect solution. Privacy, protection, someone there around the clock...”
“But—” Violet glanced from one Colton to another “—I...”
“Unless you have serious objections or a comparable, viable alternative...” Derek folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head, inviting her to state her case.
“I...I...” Violet’s muddled and weary brain blanked.
“Then the ranch it is. Doctor’s orders.” Derek lifted the corner of his mouth in a Denzel Washington–worthy grin.
“And you’re not an imposition. We’re glad to have you,” Tate said.
Violet’s head spun, and she couldn’t be sure if it was the painkiller or the speed of changing events. “My kids...”
“Bring them and their nanny. The nursery hasn’t been used since Sawyer outgrew it. Your boys will love it.” Derek headed for the door, aiming his finger at his siblings. “I’m going to take care of another patient now. No more questions for her until she’s had a chance to sleep a few hours.”
Tate scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll go make arrangements to transfer her to the ranch. We’ll need a way to distract the media long enough to get her in a vehicle without detection.”
Violet’s heart sunk. “The media is here? Already?”
“We had to notify your director, and word got out.” Emma sat back in the chair and pulled a face that expressed her low opinion of the paparazzi. “Don’t worry. We’ll get rid of the vultures before you’re moved. I promise we’ll keep you and your family safe.”
* * *
“Vampires.” Casting a disgruntled glance to the gathering of reporters and photographers crowding the parking lot, Gunnar left the ranch’s SUV at the back door to Derek’s office and punched the keypad to the security system to let himself in his brother’s clinic. He’d been having a late breakfast with Emma at the main house when his sister had been called in to Derek’s clinic to follow up on a new development in the Amish kidnapping cases. Apparently another girl had been abducted, and the bloodthirsty media couldn’t wait to broadcast the juicy details of the poor girl’s misfortune. “No comment!” he shouted to the news crew that shoved a microphone in his face and tried to shoulder their way into the clinic. “Get lost or we’ll arrest you for trespassing.”
He yanked the door closed and stalked down the hall, grumbling under his breath. He found Derek in his office and folded his arms over his chest. “So...what’s going on? Emma was all cryptic on the phone about needing the SUV and some muscle for a transport.”
Derek rose from behind his desk. “That’s right. First we have to send a decoy out, a goose for the paparazzi to follow, then we’ll load Violet and her kids in the SUV for you to drive to the ranch.”
Gunnar frowned. “Violet? As in Chastain? As in the starlet I met yesterday?”
“The same.” Derek motioned for his brother to follow. “She’s back here.”
“Whoa. Hold up, Doc. Are you telling me you got me out here to play chauffeur for an actress?”
Derek faced him. “We need your help, and we needed the SUV. It’s important that Violet not be followed. We have to protect her, assure her privacy.”
“Why?” Gunnar grumbled. “That part of the contract you signed yesterday for them filming on the ranch? I asked to be left out of that, remember?”
Derek frowned and stepped closer, pitching his voice lower. “This has nothing to do with the movie. Violet is my patient. She was attacked today and nearly bled out. The girl she was with was kidnapped.”
Gunnar stiffened, straightening his back and raising his chin. A prickle of guilt for his surly assumption slithered down his back. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. Violet got her attacker’s ski mask off for a moment and saw his face. Emma fears the guy might come after Violet. Try to kill her to keep her quiet.”
Gunnar drew his brow into a V. “Hell.”
“Guess you saw the cameras outside?”
“Out in force.” Gunnar rubbed his unshaven chin, an itch of suspicion starting between his shoulders. “So I’m part of some police operation to get Violet into hiding somewhere?”
“Exactly.”
His fists clenched. He might be highly trained and capable of this bait and switch transfer, but the idea of putting his skills on the line left him unsettled. When he’d left the military, he’d thought his “operation” days were over. Helping execute Emma’s plan was an uncomfortable reminder of his last mission in Afghanistan—and his greatest failure.
A high-pitched squeal rang down the hall, and Gunnar turned in time to see a blond-haired toddler race into the corridor giggling...and then a second, a carbon copy of the first.
A young woman of about college age appeared, her face pale and her eyes reflecting deep fatigue. “Come on, you rascals. Not today. Rani is too tired to play chase.”
“Patients?” Gunnar asked Derek.
“No. They’re Violet’s twins and her nanny. Your passengers.”
Gunnar’s gut pitched. Being around kids was hard enough without being responsible for them, even if only for the few minutes it took to drive them to—
“And where am I taking them?”
Derek continued down the hall, waving Gunnar forward. “The ranch, of course.”
Gunnar’s steps faltered. “What?”
Derek stepped into a room where Emma and Tate conferred in one corner and a blonde nurse tended to the wisp of a woman laid up in a bed. Gunnar almost didn’t recognize the injured woman as the same pixie who’d stood up to him yesterday. Violet Chastain’s eyes looked hollow, sunken and desperately sad. Garish cuts and bruises marred her porcelain skin, and her cheeks, which had sported spots of color as they’d sparred yesterday, now had a sickly pallor. Propped with pillows, her leg was bandaged, her foot bare. The scrubs she wore hung loosely on her petite frame, making her appear even tinier and more defenseless.
Her doelike brown eyes met his as he stepped in the room, and instead of the crackle of attraction he’d experienced yesterday, Gunnar felt mule kicked. She held his gaze only long enough to register his presence, then turned away.
An image of the broken bodies that had littered the marketplace in Kabul flashed in his mind’s eye, and his breath hung in his lungs. Violet Chastain’s vulnerability raked through him, scraping raw memories. He shuddered, and fisting his hands at his sides, he crammed the haunting echoes of the bombing down, locked them away. In their place, a protective instinct and warrior spirit surged to the forefront. Some bastard had done this to her, had beaten her and kidnapped an innocent Amish girl. Fury poured through him until he shook with it. A mandate to defend her, to avenge her, to heal her blindsided him.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Emma said when she saw him. “So here’s the plan. Derek’s receptionist has volunteered to be our decoy. She’ll be dressed up in some of Violet’s clothes, sunglasses, hat, the works, and Tate will pretend to be escorting her back to the movie set. They’ll leave, and with luck, the media horde will give chase, clearing the parking lot for us to sneak Violet and her kids through the back door and into the SUV. You take them all back to the ranch, making sure you aren’t followed, and get them safely into the house. Simple as that. Got it?”
“Got it.” His voice sounded rough and raw even to his own ears, and when Violet raised a gaunt look to him, he experienced another gut kick.
Tate turned to Derek. “We’re ready. Can she be moved now?”<
br />
Derek shifted his attention to the blonde nurse. “How are her vitals, Amelia?” The nurse rattled off the information while Derek checked Violet’s bandaged leg. “Okay. She’s good to go. Gunnar, she’ll need that wheelchair behind you.”
“Decoy leaving now.” Tate headed up front to escort the receptionist out the front door.
Gunnar retrieved the wheelchair and rolled it to the bed. While the nurse lifted Violet’s injured leg, removing the pillows beneath it, Violet began gingerly scooting her healthy leg toward the edge of the bed.
“Wait,” Gunnar said, then scooped her carefully into his arms and set her down in the wheelchair.
She hissed in pain, and he narrowed a concerned look on her. “Okay?”
Violet nodded. “It wasn’t you. Any movement hurts my leg, but I’m all right now.” She gripped his hand. “Will you make sure Rani and my kids get in the car safely?”
Her hand felt so small on his, and the plea in her expression burrowed deep inside him. Gunnar’s mouth dried. “Of course.”
The nurse took her position behind the wheelchair, ready to roll Violet out when the coast was clear, and Gunnar marched down the hall to prepare the nanny and two toddlers to leave.
The nanny—Rani, Violet had called her—looked up when he entered the exam room where they waited. Her eyes were bleary, and her cheeks were flushed. Gunnar frowned at her haggard appearance but assumed the nanny was simply upset over Violet’s injuries. She had the twins occupied with a snack of graham crackers and juice but rallied when she spotted him.
“Time to go?” Rani asked, then covered a cough.
“Soon. Do you have car seats for the kids? We’ll need to install them before we leave.”
She nodded and pointed to the corner of the room where two safety seats, three suitcases and a large diaper bag waited...along with two pet carriers.
“She’s bringing animals?” Gunnar groaned, visualizing whimpering little Chihuahuas or yipping Pomeranians.
Rani nodded. “Romeo and Sophie.” She paused to cough, then added, “They’re part of the family. She doesn’t go anywhere without them.”
Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from commenting on Hollywood divas and their portable mutts, Gunnar stepped close to the nearest carrier and peeked inside. A fuzzy black-and-white cat blinked back at him, three black spots decorating his nose. Gunnar arched an eyebrow, not sure if cats were an improvement over snippy dogs or not.
Once Tate called to report they had the entourage of reporters following them across town, Emma checked the parking lot for stragglers, then gave the all clear. Derek helped Gunnar load the luggage and cats and buckle the safety seats in the SUV, while Emma assembled everyone at the back door. When Derek gave the signal, Gunnar hustled Rani and the twins, one boy in each arm, to the Suburban. Derek buckled one boy in while Rani tended to the second. Gunnar swept the parking lot with an encompassing glance, and Amelia wheeled Violet out.
“Gunnar, will you do the honors again? It’ll save time,” Emma asked, hitching her head toward Violet.
He answered by stepping to the passenger door and silently lifting Violet into the front seat and fastening her seat belt for her. He caught the faint scent of flowers as he leaned across her, and he gritted his teeth when an inappropriate spark of attraction spun through him.
“Damn!” Emma snarled behind him, then thunked him on the back. “Hurry up! Get the door closed.”
Gunnar jerked back and closed the passenger door before facing his sister. “What’s wrong?”
“Across the street. The car parked by the tree.” She gave her head a slight hitch toward the street, her face taut with frustration and disgust. “Telephoto lens.”
Amelia raised her head to look where Emma indicated, and she drew a sharp breath. Ducking her chin again, the nurse kept her head down and hurried back inside the clinic with the wheelchair as if she were the celebrity needing to stay out of sight.
Gunnar scowled at Emma. “Make sure the car doesn’t follow me.” Then to Derek, he said, “Let’s move.”
Chapter 4
Derek piled in the far backseat with Rani, and Emma took the middle seat with the twins while Gunnar drove. He kept an eye on his side and rearview mirrors, and while he didn’t see any vehicle following them, he drove a circuitous route back to the ranch.
No one breathed easily until the Suburban was inside the gates of the Double C and hidden by the trees surrounding the property. Gunnar parked in front of the main house, and the loading process was reversed, except that he carried Violet all the way into the living room. He settled Violet on the long couch and helped her prop up her leg.
Piper and Sawyer appeared from the kitchen and gaped at their famous guest.
“Oh, my God! Ms. Chastain, are you all right?” Piper rushed to the couch and hovered at the end by Violet’s feet. “Can I get you anything?”
Violet shook her head wearily and sank back on the sofa.
Without being asked, Gunnar moved a decorative pillow under Violet’s leg and another behind her back. Derek and Emma, each toting a cat carrier, entered the room with the nanny and Violet’s boys. The cats were released to sniff their new environment.
When Rani coughed again, a deep barking sound, Derek frowned at her and touched her forehead. “You sound terrible. How long have you had this cough?”
“A couple days,” Rani answered.
When Emma moved up to crouch beside Violet and discuss how she thought the arrangements would work, Gunnar stepped back ready to ease out of the room and escape to his cabin.
Derek was checking Rani’s throat and feeling her forehead for a fever. The twins had been turned loose to run amok. To get away from the toddlers’ groping hands, the black-and-white cat jumped up on a table, knocking over several framed photos in the process. The solid black cat scurried under a chair to hide. Sawyer, clearly hoping to distract the toddlers from his video game cases, turned the television to a cartoon channel. Piper continued hovering. Someone’s cell phone rang. A toddler tripped and started crying. And up and up the noise level went. Up and up went the activity, tension level and confusion.
Yeah. Good plan, bringing a seriously injured woman to the ranch to recoup, Gunnar thought sarcastically. But since they hadn’t asked his opinion, he kept his mouth shut and edged farther toward the exit...toward his nice, quiet, remote cabin...
“Gunnar?” Derek’s voice reached him just as he was turning the kitchen doorknob. He sighed and faced the living room. Derek crossed the floor, his expression grave. Crap. What now?
“The nanny is sick. She’s got what is probably the flu, though I haven’t had a chance to run a test yet. The kids can’t be exposed to her, so I’m isolating her in the north wing.”
“And you’re telling me this because...?”
“Someone else will need to watch the boys.”
“Why can’t Julia do it?” he asked, referring to Piper and Sawyer’s part-time nanny.
“Hopefully Julia can help babysit the twins in the evening, but during the day while Julia is at her other job...” Derek hesitated, his expression saying he knew he was asking a huge favor.
Gunnar tensed and aimed a finger at his brother. “Derek, do not finish that sentence. I beg of you.”
“I work during the day, and I’m on call at night. Emma and Tate are on a case. Piper and Sawyer have school. You’re the only one who—”
“I’ll pay to bring in another babysitter or...or send them to day care somewhere. But don’t ask me to take care of little kids.” He held up a hand in protest, as if he could ward off what he knew was coming. “I don’t know anything about babies!”
“Gunnar, it’s only for a little while. Violet’s too weak to take care of active toddlers. She needs to rest.”
Gunnar looked past his brother into the bedlam of the living room. “Like she’ll get any rest in that chaos.”
Derek frowned and turned to survey the noisy, busy room. “You’re right. This won�
�t work. Violet needs sleep. And with her nanny sick, there’s no one to keep tabs on her during the day.”
Gunnar unwound a little. Finally Derek was seeing reason. “So she should stay somewhere else. Not at the ranch.”
Derek gave a sharp whistle and waved Tate and Emma over. When they’d joined the huddle, Derek explained the situation to them. “I suggest we move her to Gunnar’s cabin.”
Gunnar choked. “What?”
“Good idea,” Tate said, nodding, “She can have the quiet she needs in the evening, and you can keep an eye on her and the kids during the day.”
“And you’re trained to protect her, should the need arise,” Emma added.
“But—”
“I’ll still stop in to monitor her progress, but I agree that your cabin is the best place for her.”
“I don’t!” Gunnar scowled at his siblings. “What’s wrong with a private hospital or hiring a nurse to look after her and the kids?”
“What’s wrong with you helping an injured woman in need of protection?” Tate’s expression challenged Gunnar.
Emma shook her head with disappointment. “What’s wrong with you, Gunnar? It’s not like we’re asking you to adopt her kids. Just keep an eye on them for a few hours during the weekdays. Piper can help on the weekends.”
Three pairs of demanding eyes pinned him with expectant stares.
Gunnar felt a cool sweat break out on his forehead. His brain scrambled for a legitimate reason not to agree to his sibling’s plan, while guilt and compassion for the waiflike woman on the sofa drummed his heart. “I...I don’t...”
When he didn’t finish his sentence, Derek nodded once. “All right then. Let’s move her to Gunnar’s cabin. The twins can stay here for now with Piper, but let’s take the cats with us.”
Gunnar raked both hands through his hair and heaved a sigh. Not only was the sassy pixie moving in with him, invading his private and tranquil retreat, but she was bringing her cats.
Colton's Ranch Refuge Page 5
