by Cassie Miles
“You shouldn’t have gone after Maud.”
“Got your attention, didn’t I?”
Bastard! “If you hurt anyone else, I won’t cooperate.”
“Don’t try to bargain, Nicole. I’m in charge, and you’ll do what I tell you to do.”
She had no leverage. Her resistance felt weak. “Why should I? How do I know you won’t come after Dylan?”
“You don’t,” he said. “But if you don’t follow my orders, I promise that you won’t like the results. The next time I won’t be satisfied with destroying property. I will take lives. Your friends, your family, all your pretty little horses. Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” All her fear came rushing back. She gained nothing by fighting. He was capable of terrible violence.
“Tell no one that you’re in contact with me.”
She had no choice. She had to lie. A helpless sob crawled up her throat. Dylan, I’m sorry.
“Nicole, did you hear me?”
“Tell me what I have to do.”
DYLAN LEFT Nicole alone in the bedroom to make her phone call and went downstairs to the kitchen. Though he felt bad about Maud’s clinic, Carolyn’s interruption had come at the right time. He didn’t want to get rolling with a bunch of tired old arguments.
Trips into Delta twice a week to see a counselor? It didn’t fit his schedule. And he didn’t need an outside person telling him how to run his life.
He moved quietly through the house, not needing to turn on any of the lights. This had been his home since he was born. Except for college in Fort Collins, he’d never lived anywhere else. Just like his dad.
Sure, there were similarities between him and his old man, and it wasn’t all bad. They were both ranchers, good providers, conscious of the environment. And they both had trouble in their marriage.
Dylan had learned a lesson by watching his father. Sterling had never found another woman he loved as much as Andrea. He’d gone through life alone. I won’t make the same mistake. If Nicole needed for him to see a shrink, he’d do it. By God, he’d do any damn thing to save his marriage.
In the kitchen, he took a half gallon of milk from the fridge and poured himself a glass. A shot of whiskey might go down well, but he wanted to stay alert in case Nicole had another rough night.
Through the kitchen window, he saw hillsides covered with pristine white snow. The smells of pine boughs and gingerbread lingered from the afternoon.
From the front room, he heard the spinet. Not a Christmas song, but a sonata. The music took him back in time to when he was a little boy, sitting beside his mom on the piano bench, listening as her long fingers stroked the keys.
Quietly, he went through the dining room. In the living room, the lights flickered on the Christmas tree. Andrea sat with her back to him, making music.
He’d never forgiven her for leaving him and Carolyn, for choosing to follow her own dreams. But he’d never stopped loving his mother. He came up behind her. “Don’t stop playing.”
“Do you remember?” she asked.
He hesitated for a long moment. “I remember, Mom.”
He hadn’t called her Mom in a hell of a long time. But it felt right. Standing behind her, he listened and thought of how much he’d missed by being too stubborn to return her gestures when she reached out to him.
“You’ve never asked me for advice,” she said, continuing to play. “But I have something to say.”
“I’m ready to hear it.”
“You and Nicole are soul mates. You’re meant to be together. But she’s been badly hurt. You’re going to have to fight to win her back.”
“Fight?” If it meant saving his marriage, he was ready to kick ass. Preferably, Nate Miller’s ass. But he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Andrea meant. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“You need to court her. The roses were a good start, but you need to do more.” Her fingers darted across the keys, unleashing a cascade of notes. “My advice is to take her away from the ranch. Go somewhere special. Just the two of you. Spend some time together without interruptions, and use that time to show her how much you care.”
She was the third person to advise him to get out of town, but he liked her reasoning more than the sheriff’s or Jesse’s. Taking Nicole somewhere special for a second honeymoon sounded a lot better than running from Nate Miller or hiding from the media.
He reached down and rested his hand on Andrea’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
She stopped playing and looked up at him. In the reflected light from the Christmas tree, her eyes were bright. “I love you, son.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mom.”
Chapter Eleven
The next morning Dylan was up early again, taking care of business, pacing back and forth from his office to the kitchen. He’d spent much of last night watching his wife sleep restlessly—not touching her, except to rearrange the comforter and soothe away the nightmares. He wanted more. A lot more. His desire for her had built to an almost painful level. If this went on much longer, he’d be driven into a drooling, primitive state of pure lust. Dylan the Caveman. He’d club his woman over the head, drag her off and make sweet love.
When he heard Nicole come down the stairs, he grabbed two mugs of coffee and whisked her into his office, where he closed the door. He wasted no time with explanations.
“We need to leave the ranch.”
Coolly, she raised her coffee mug to her lips and gazed at him over the brim. “Did I miss something? Is the building on fire?”
“The sheriff says we won’t to be able to avoid the press if we stay here. Jesse says we aren’t safe.” He shuffled his feet, reluctant to confess the most important part of his plan: to woo her. “Also, we need some alone time. You and me. Without distractions. Kind of like a second honeymoon.”
For their first honeymoon they’d gone to Hawaii for a week. The lush green islands had enchanted him. He’d never forget the sight of his beautiful wife wading through the surf with rivulets of water streaming from her body.
Thoughtfully she sipped her coffee. “Have you heard anything more from Maud?”
“I talked to her this morning. She’s fine. Her insurance will cover the vandalism.”
“That’s what she said last night.” Avoiding his gaze, she crossed the office to the window and looked out. “Any word from the sheriff?”
“He’s certain that Nate was responsible for the break-in at Maud’s clinic. His fingerprints were all over.”
“As if the Circle M painted on the wall wasn’t proof enough?”
“Sheriff Trainer will stop by today and give us an update.” Placing his mug on the desk, he came up behind her. Lightly, he touched her arm. “Come away with me, darlin’.”
“Did you have a location in mind for this second honeymoon?”
“Actually, I do. It’s a historical place.”
“Europe?” She spun around to face him. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower. I could finish up my Christmas shopping there.”
“Ooh-la-la,” he said.
As quickly as her enthusiasm appeared, it faded into a frown. “But Paris is too far away. I’d rather be home for Christmas.”
“Not Europe,” he said. “For this vacation, you need to pack your bathing suit.”
“Like Hawaii.” Her blue eyes turned dreamy. “Our first honeymoon was amazing.”
They’d made love in the morning, the night and all the hours in between. He remembered how the tropical breezes caressed his senses. Every sky held a rainbow. With a tinge of regret, he said, “Not a tropical island.”
“Baja. The Sea of Cortez,” she guessed. “We could swim with the dolphins. But the best time to go there is February or March when the whales are migrating. The photos show them swimming right up to the edge of the boats. You can reach out and—”
He held up a hand to stop her before she went too far down this path. “Not Baja. Not an island. I want to stay
close to home in case there’s trouble and we need to get back.”
“I thought the whole idea was to run away to a place where no one could find us.”
His whole idea was to seduce her, to remind her of their love—the passion they shared. “No one will find us.”
“Where?”
“Glenwood,” he said. “The hot springs at Glenwood.”
Cynically she arched an eyebrow. “That’s your idea of a second honeymoon? Glenwood Springs is less than a hundred miles from here.”
He’d been thinking of her bruises when the idea of the medicinal hot springs occurred to him. Soaking in a steamy bath would be good for her. “You’ve said before that you wanted to go there.”
“True, but you jacked my expectations way high.” She shrugged and went around the desk toward the door. “It’s a nice idea, Dylan.”
Nice? That wasn’t the response he was looking for. He’d hoped for wild excitement, hoped that she’d leap into his arms and kiss him for being so thoughtful. “Paris isn’t out of the question.”
“I don’t mean to be so difficult.” A deep sadness tainted her smile. “All I really want is to spend Christmas here at the ranch with you.”
He followed as she sauntered from the office and went to the living room where she stood in front of the Christmas tree. Reaching up, she touched a teardrop-shaped ornament that was handpainted with a picture of a cowgirl on a horse. She’d told him the story of how her mother had given her that battered ornament when she was a little girl.
With a sigh, she looked toward another ornament. Her slender hand cupped the shiny globe hanging at eyelevel. “This is the first ornament you gave me.”
He’d chosen it with care. A dramatic tracery of black ran through blended colors—gold, red and magenta. It reminded him of a western sunset. “My horizon.”
On the lower branches of the tree was the ornament he’d given her last year—a shiny Santa that he’d grabbed as an afterthought on a shopping trip to Grand Junction. The design meant nothing special.
“Even if I agree to leave,” she said, “how would we get away from the ranch unnoticed? That stupid press truck is parked at the front gate.”
He’d given their escape route some thought, had even consulted with his sister and Burke. “You’re right. We can’t just hop in the truck and drive off without being followed.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
The decorated boughs of the Christmas tree sparkled behind her. The lights and tinsel highlighted the gleam of her blond hair. This incredible, beautiful woman was his wife. And he wanted her. He’d do just about anything to get her alone.
“Chopper,” he said.
“Fly to Glenwood on a helicopter?”
“Not directly. We’d fly from one airfield to another until we reach the Eagle County Airport near Vail. From there, we pick up a rental car, reserved under an alias.”
“An alias?”
“Well, we can’t use our own name. The media would find us for sure. Then we drive to Glenwood Springs, where our hotel room is being held under the alias.”
“This is beginning to sound like high espionage.”
“Burke helped me with the details.” Having an FBI agent in the family was proving useful. “Nobody will know who we are. Especially since we’ll be wearing disguises.”
“Come again?”
In his opinion, this was the best part. “There’s always a chance that we’ll run into somebody we know. And Burke said that reporters might talk to hotel clerks and show them a photograph. So we need to be disguised.”
“How?”
“You could be a redhead. With lots of makeup and cleavage.”
“You want me to dress up like a bimbo?”
“Because that’s the very opposite of who you really are,” he said quickly. “I figure you could play the part of my sexpot mistress. And I’d be a hotshot businessman. Maybe an attorney. I could wear a fake mustache and a silk necktie.”
“Oh, yeah. That’ll work.”
His fantasy about their disguises went far beyond putting on costumes. “Maybe we should practice.”
“I can tell that you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” she said. “Clearly, you shouldn’t be left alone in the morning—you seem to come up with all kinds of schemes.”
If he’d been getting a decent night’s sleep in his wife’s arms, he wouldn’t have all this excess energy. “We need to leave the ranch until this is over.”
“I’m sorry, but no. We’ll stay here and ride it out.”
She turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen.
NICOLE CLENCHED her jaw to keep from crying. Walking away from Dylan was hard, really hard. Her feet dragged across the floor as if she were fighting a powerful magnet that pulled her back toward his arms.
His crazy, intricate scheme for a getaway touched her heart. For months, she’d felt as though he barely noticed her existence. And now, when he’d gone to extreme lengths and arranged everything with her in mind, she had to reject him.
Nate gave her no other choice. He’d given her a simple assignment for today. If she failed to do his bidding, others would suffer. She wondered how he’d know when she carried out the task. Is he watching the ranch house right now? Last night, while she lay in bed pretending to sleep, she considered telling Dylan about her phone call to Nate. They could set a trap for him.
But if she was wrong…If they failed to catch him, there would be hell to pay. She didn’t dare take the risk.
In the kitchen, she put on a perfunctory smile for Polly. Unaware of what she was saying, Nicole nodded and chatted while Polly put together a breakfast of sausage and eggs wrapped in a tortilla.
It looked good. Nicole leaned against the counter and took a bite. Yum. Civilized people sat at the table and used silverware, but Nicole was just too hungry.
“Snow’s already given up,” Polly said. “I guess those forecasters were wrong.”
“Guess so,” Nicole said.
The plump, energetic woman bustled around the large kitchen. Her every move was precise—as choreographed as a ballet. “I think I’ll be making some chili for lunch.”
Before Nicole could finish the last bite of her breakfast burrito, her stomach roiled. “Excuse me, Polly.”
“What’s the matter, hon? You look sick.”
“I’ll be back later. To help.” She dashed into the small downstairs bathroom. Bracing her arms on the counter beside the sink, she fought the urge to vomit. A sickening fever surged through her, and she broke into a clammy sweat. Though she was certain that her reaction was psychological, she kind of hoped it was a virus. Collapsing into bed with the flu seemed way more acceptable than admitting that she was too scared to eat or sleep or make love to her husband.
Dammit. She had to figure out how to follow Nate’s orders without getting caught. He’d told her to go to the stable that had been burned down. At the northeast corner she’d find a leather pouch. She was supposed to keep it with her at all times.
The task would have been simple if she hadn’t been surrounded by ranch hands and bodyguards. And Dylan. He’d never let her stroll out of the ranch house alone. She’d have to come up with an excuse; she’d have to lie to him.
Her stomach heaved, she vomited into the toilet bowl. She felt like hell. It wouldn’t be malingering if she claimed to be sick and unable to leave her bed. Would Nate believe that excuse?
She slipped out of the bathroom and scurried up the stairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom. After a few minutes’ rest, nervous energy compelled her to rise from the bed. She paced. Tell Dylan about the contact from Nate. They could use Burke’s and Jesse’s expertise to figure out a plan. Nate wasn’t a genius. He couldn’t outsmart them all.
But he was good at plotting and hiding. And he was driven by an all-consuming need for revenge.
She grabbed one of the energy bars in her room and nibbled at it while she stood at the window. A fluffy blanket of snow covered the lan
dscape. Only a couple of inches. The sun was out today. Most of the snow would be melted by nightfall.
When she finished off the energy bar, she checked in with her stomach. Though tense, she didn’t feel like throwing up. Was she sick? Or was she crazy? As Sarah had easily diagnosed, Nicole had been traumatized. After what she’d been through, there had to be an emotional reaction.
From downstairs, she heard people moving around in the house. It was after ten o’clock; the day’s activities were under way. On a normal day, she would have been busy with the daily chores she loved—feeding the livestock, mucking out the horse barn, monitoring the herd. For the past several months, she’d been participating in a study sponsored by the veterinary college in Grand Junction that required her to draw blood from the cattle. Which reminded her that she ought to call Sarah and ask for preliminary results on her own blood tests.
But when she picked up the cell phone, she was reminded of Nate. She stared at the innocent rectangle of plastic and circuits and wires. It was more than a phone. This was a link to him. Another chain. What the hell could she do to stop him?
He had trapped her here. The walls seemed to close around her more tightly than those of the dark closet where she’d been held prisoner. She wanted to run. To get away from here. Wasn’t that exactly what Dylan had suggested? Taking off with him and going to Glenwood sounded like the answer to her prayers.
There was a tap on the door, and she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep so she wouldn’t have to face another person or come up with another lie. The door opened. Through slitted eyelids, she saw Carolyn step inside, give her a look and leave.
After a few minutes, she tiptoed to the window, trying to determine the best route to leave the house and go to the burned stable. Two ranch hands were posted at the front gate, and she knew there were another two on the porch—too many people who would ask questions or insist on accompanying her.
She spotted the sheriff’s SUV parked near the front. Carolyn must have come to the door to tell her that the sheriff was here, which meant that she and Burke and Dylan would be busy hearing Sheriff Trainer’s report. They’d all be locked up together in Dylan’s office.
