HER NEW LIFE

Morgan Smith had to give up her name, her calling and her past when she entered the witness protection program. Now a caretaker of horses on an Iowa farm, she spends her days in the stables and helping kids learn to ride. But danger has followed her. She longs to tell her handsome boss, Alex Reardon, everything—about the troubled adoption agency she worked for, a missing infant and the attempt on her life. But sharing her past with Alex could put him in grave danger and lead a killer to their door.…

Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight

Morgan was all alone out there.

After ten more minutes of riding on the horse, panic set in. She didn’t see any light or even any landmark that could guide her home. She thought about the fire and the man she’d seen earlier around her house. The darkness only fed her fear.

The horse stopped abruptly at the creek bed, pitching Morgan into the river. Morgan stood up, only to be knocked down by a torrent of water. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the shore. Fear sank in like the teeth of a lion.

“Leave me alone.” She hit the rider’s chest hard.

The rider released her. “Hey, hey.” The voice was Alex’s. He gripped her arms above the elbow.

She was soaked to the bone, but the strength of Alex’s touch and sound of his voice warmed her.

“You were really scared there,” he said.

More than anything she wished she could explain to him why she was so on edge.

* * *

SHARON DUNN

has always loved writing, but didn’t decide to write for publication until she was expecting her first baby. Pregnancy makes you do crazy things. Three kids, many articles and two mystery series later, she still hasn’t found her sanity. Her books have won awards, including a Book of the Year award from American Christian Fiction Writers. She was also a finalist for an RT Book Reviews Inspirational Book of the Year Award.

Sharon has performed in theater and church productions, has degrees in film production and history, and worked for many years as a college tutor and instructor. Despite the fact that her résumé looks as if she couldn’t decide what she wanted to be when she grew up, all the education and experience have played a part in helping her write good stories.

When she isn’t writing or taking her kids to activities, she reads, plays board games and contemplates organizing her closet. In addition to her three kids, Sharon lives with her husband of twenty-two years, three cats and lots of dust bunnies. You can reach Sharon through her website, www.sharondunnbooks.net.

Top Secret Identity

Sharon Dunn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy as unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.

—Song of Songs 8:6

For my husband, Michael, because your support and unconditional love has made all the difference in the world.

Special thanks and acknowledgment to Sharon Dunn for her contribution to the Witness Protection miniseries.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXTRACT

ONE

A wave of terror washed over Morgan Smith when she heard the tapping at her window. She gripped the book she’d been reading a little tighter. Someone was outside the caretaker’s cottage. Had the man who had tried to kill her in Mexico found her in Iowa?

Though she’d been in witness protection for two months, her fear of being killed had not subsided. Only a few days ago, she’d left Des Moines for the countryside and a job at a stable because she’d felt exposed in the city, vulnerable. She’d grown up on a ranch in Wyoming, and when she worked as an American missionary in Mexico, she’d always chosen to be in rural areas. Wide open spaces felt safer to her.

With her heart pounding, she rose to her feet and walked the short distance to the window, half expecting to see a face contorted with rage or clawlike hands reaching for her neck. The memory of nearly being strangled made her shudder. She stepped closer to the window, where there was only blackness. Yet the sound of the tapping had been too distinct to dismiss as the wind rattling the glass.

A chill snaked down her spine.

Someone was outside.

If the man from Mexico had come to kill her, it seemed odd that he would give her a warning by tapping on the window.

She thought to call her new boss, who was in the guesthouse less than a hundred yards away. Alex Reardon seemed like a nice man. She’d hated being evasive when he’d asked her where she had gotten her knowledge of horses. She’d been fortunate to get the job without references. Her references, everything and everyone she knew—all of that had been stripped from her, even her name. She was no longer Magdalena Chavez. Her new name was Morgan Smith.

The tapping came again, this time at a different window. She whirled around. Paralyzed by terror, she couldn’t bring herself to take a step. Did he intend to torment her before he moved in for the kill? With the description she gave them, the U.S. Marshals had tracked down a name for the man who had tried to kill her—Josef Flores, a mercenary for hire, a muscular man known for wearing white suits and killing his victims with his bare hands. But they hadn’t caught him yet.

Her pulse drummed in her ears as silence pressed on her from all sides. It had taken her weeks to get out of Mexico alive. Twice, Josef had found her and tried to strangle her. She could still see his bloodshot eyes as he vowed to kill her.

The trouble had started when she became suspicious of some of the practices at the agency where she assisted with international adoptions. Babies were being escorted into the States, instead of adoptive parents coming to Mexico to pick up their children. The behavior of some of the birth mothers was peculiar. At first, they would decide against adoption. Then they would return, days later, saying they’d changed their minds. The young mothers seemed afraid at that second visit. She’d just begun to look through old records and try to contact the mothers when Josef had come after her in her office late at night.

The marshals had agreed to provide her with protection and a new identity because they thought her case might be connected to a larger kidnapping and illegal adoption ring.

Now she stared at the dark window and took in a raspy breath. If what had happened to her was connected to a larger crime, it wouldn’t only be Josef who came after her. There could be others.

The knob on the locked door turned and rattled.

She’d been a fool to think the U.S. Marshals could keep her safe.

Clutching her book tighter to her chest, she waited for the moment when the attacker would break down the door and come after her. Morgan steeled herself against the rising panic. She wasn’t going to give up that easily. She grabbed her phone to dial 911 but couldn’t get a signal in the cottage. She glanced around the room for possible weapons and hiding places.

The door stopped shaking. She waited for a few minutes, tiptoed across the floor and then peeked out the window.

A motion-sensitive light came on in the distance by the stable. She recognized the broad shoulders and denim jacket of Alex Reardon.

What if her would-be attackers hurt Alex? She couldn’t let that happen.

Pushing her fear aside, she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, turned it and raced outside. Her feet pounded across the hard-packed dirt toward the stable. She was out of breath by the time she caught up with Alex.

“Alex, what are you doing out so late?”

“I thought I saw somebody run toward the stable.” His wavy brown hair appeared soft in the moonlight. “I need to check it out.”

“I know—they tapped on my window and shook my door handle. Maybe we should call the police.” Fear resonated through each word she uttered.

“Call the police?” He hesitated, probably wondering why she was so panicked. “Why would we do that? My guess is it’s just some teenagers messing around. It’s happened before. Nothing we can’t handle on our own.”

Impulsively, she grabbed his upper arm. “I’ll go with you then.” If something happened to him at her expense, she would never forgive herself.

“All right.” Alex shone the flashlight in her direction. “Are you okay to take the inside of the stables? I’ll search around the perimeter. We’ll meet at the other end.” His voice filled with concern.

“I suppose that would be best...” She let go of his arm. “To split up.”

His gaze rested on her long enough for her to feel uncomfortable. He probably thought she was flighty, which was not the impression she wanted to give. If only she could explain to him why she was reacting this way. “We could stay together if you want.”

“No, we’ll go with your plan.” Her voice held an intensity that seemed out of place.

He shook his head, clearly confused by her heightened emotions. “Morgan, we live in a really safe part of the country. In all the time that I’ve lived here, the worst it’s ever been was just some bored teenagers looking for something to do.” The compassion she heard in his voice helped her let go of some of her fear. “If you do get scared, I won’t be far away.”

“Okay, I’ll search the inside of the stable,” she said feeling a little more at ease.

He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and disappeared around the side of the stable.

Morgan stepped into the stable. The door had not been locked, a responsibility that probably fell to her. She was still learning all her duties. She clicked on the lights. By design, the lighting was minimal and subdued to keep the horses calm. She’d need the flashlight to search the dark corners of the barn. She flung open the equipment box and retrieved it. Several of the horses were standing, and the stomping of their hooves and their jerking heads indicated they’d been disturbed by something or someone.

Morgan paced through the long narrow building shining the light where shadows fell. Most of the horses had calmed down except for Bluebell, a black Arabian. Once at the other end of the stable, Morgan pushed open the barn door and stepped out, shining the light in all directions. No Alex. Her heart skipped a beat.

Her voice cracked when she called for him. He was innocent in all this. It wasn’t right that he should be hurt in any way. Maybe she had been foolish to move out here, to think she could build some kind of life with this threat hanging over her. The last thing she wanted was someone to get hurt because of the danger she faced.

She heard footsteps and turned just as a body barreled into her. She saw a flash of a plaid material right before she was pushed to the ground. She lay on her back with the wind knocked out of her. Terror raged through her as memories from the attack in Mexico flooded her mind.

Alex called her name from a distance. Her assailant let go of her and retreated into the darkness, probably scared away by Alex’s voice.

Alex came around the corner and fell to his knees when he saw her on the ground. His voice filled with concern. “Hey, what happened?”

Morgan blinked. Pain shot through her back. “He knocked me over.” Why hadn’t the man simply killed her? Maybe Alex had been too close and the thug didn’t want witnesses. “He got scared when he heard you yelling.”

Alex reached out his hand to help her to her feet. “I saw one of them run off in the other direction. This is a little more serious if they are going to start hurting people. Last time this happened, it was some teenagers going from farm to farm, running through the property.”

So there was more than one of them. “Do you think you’ll call the police?” Not that that would help her. There was a part of her that really hoped it was just teenagers, but she couldn’t take chances. If there was the smallest chance she’d been found, the U.S. Marshals would need to move her.

His hand cupped underneath her elbow. “I might have to if we can’t get to the bottom of this.” He leaned a little closer to her. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She winced and touched her bruised back muscles. “Guess I hit the ground pretty hard.” Alex’s concern for her warmed her heart.

“Why don’t you come back to the guesthouse? I’ll fix you a cup of tea and get you an ice pack. You probably don’t have much in the way of supplies for the cottage yet.”

“I will, but could you give me a minute? Bluebell sounds really stirred up in there. I’ll make sure everything is locked up tight.” She didn’t want Alex to see how badly she was shaking.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Morgan, this really frightened you.”

The warmth of his touch permeated her thin cotton shirt. She nodded but didn’t say anything, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep the emotion out of her voice. Let him think it was just teenagers. She knew better.

“I’ll lock up while you calm down Bluebell.” His voice filled with compassion. “We’ll go back to the house together.”

They entered the stable. Bluebell stepped side to side in her stall. Morgan slipped into the stall, stroking her hands over the horse’s neck and back. She leaned close so her side rested against the horse’s front flank. She looked into Bluebell’s coal dark eyes.

We’re both afraid, aren’t we?

“It’ll be all right.” Bluebell let out a heavy snort. Her stomping subsided. Morgan leaned in close and buried her face in the horse’s mane. Her eyes warmed with tears.

She had no idea how they’d found her. She had complied with the witness protection rules of not talking about her past or contacting anyone she knew in her former life. It seemed odd, though, that the assailant hadn’t killed her outright. One thing was certain. She couldn’t stay here.

She’d have to pack her things and call the marshals as soon as she could get a cell phone signal.

* * *

“You ready to go?” Alex closed and latched the stable door. He pulled out his ring of keys to lock the door on the other end from the outside. They lived far enough away from the city that crime wasn’t a huge issue. All the same, he should have remembered to lock the doors.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Morgan didn’t turn to him. Her hand went up to her face. When she did turn around, it looked to him as if she’d been crying. Clearly, she didn’t want him to notice, so he didn’t mention it.

In the few days she’d been working there, he’d concluded that Morgan Smith was not easy to get to know. She was friendly and connecting with clients but very closed down when it came to talking about herself.

Morgan gave the horse one final pat on the neck before climbing out of the stall. Alex had to hand it to her—she was good with the horses. He wasn’t in the habit of hiring someone without references, but the day she’d arrived for the interview, she’d talked an uppity horse into taking the weight of a saddle and calmed the frightened kid who’d been dealing with that same horse.

She gazed at him, her dark brown eyes holding a world of mystery. She rubbed her lower back and winced. “That ice pack sounds really nice right now.” She wore her long dark hair in a ponytail. Her cheeks flushed with color—maybe from the cold, maybe from the scare she’d just had.

They walked through the stable and out into the darkness. Only two windows in the guesthouse glowed with golden light. It was a weekday, so they only had one guest. On the weekends, all six rooms were usually full. Clients who lived in the city drove up and stayed for two or three days of riding. They were two hours outside of Des Moines in Iowa farmland. The Stables boarded horses and owned some to provide lessons. Alex’s favorite part of his job was the therapeutic riding program for disabled and underprivileged children.

Morgan and Alex walked side by side onto the expansive porch of the guesthouse. He led her through an open sitting room furnished with leather couches and rough pine end tables into a large kitchen. Only he and Morgan lived on the property. He had private quarters in the guesthouse and she had the caretaker’s cottage. Mrs. Stovall, who supervised the cooking for guests and cleaning of the rooms, drove in from Kirkwood, a tiny town five miles up the road. She hung up her apron promptly at seven every night.

Morgan glanced around the kitchen while he put a kettle on. “This is really homey.”

He detected emotion in her voice, longing perhaps. After grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, he turned to face her. “Oh, does it remind you of a kitchen you grew up in?”

Her face blanched and she looked off to the side. “No, I just think it looks very...welcoming.” Her tone was defensive.

Even that tiny bit of probing about her past scared her. She exuded confidence around the horses, but in many ways she was like a frightened little bird. What was she hiding? Everything else about her seemed honest and forthright. But still, there was a guarded quality to their interaction, as if she’d built walls around herself.

He set two mugs on the counter and pulled out the tea bags. “Mrs. Stovall’s rules remain even when she’s not here. We have access to everything in the kitchen, but we have to clean up after ourselves, same as the guests.”

She picked up the tea bag and placed it in her cup and then pressed the ice pack against the small of her back. “Understood. I get the impression she runs a pretty tight ship.”

They then talked a little more about the horses. The kettle whistled. Alex poured the steaming liquid over her tea bag and pushed the sugar dish in her direction across the counter. He watched her stir in the sugar, the metal of the spoon tinkling against the inside of the mug. Once again, he was struck by her beauty, the wide brown eyes and thick eyelashes, her swanlike neck.

But it was that look of vulnerability in those eyes that had won him over. There was no guile in her. That’s why her secretiveness confused him. Was she running from an abusive boyfriend or husband?

She gazed at him over the top of the mug.

She was a horse that needed to be wooed. If she trusted him, maybe she’d open up to him. What could he talk about that wouldn’t make her retreat? “Tomorrow the kids from Reach Out will be here for their therapeutic riding session.”

Her eyes grew wide as though a realization had come to her. “Oh, yes, tomorrow. I saw that on the schedule.”

“You should be able to handle it. We’ll have five children here with varied ability levels. Each one has an aide or family member to help. I’ll come out and introduce you to everyone.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I like working with children.”

“So you’ve done something like this before?” He’d blurted the question without thinking.

Her reaction was more subtle this time, though he could tell the question upset her. Her round eyes narrowed, and she placed her cup back on the counter. “Let’s just say that I’ve always loved children and wanted to protect them.” She angled away from him. “It’s late, Alex. I should be getting back to the cottage.” She placed the ice pack on the counter, too. She turned on her heels. He listened to the echo of her footsteps across the wooden floor of the lounge.

Feeling frustrated, Alex poured out Morgan’s half-full cup of tea and washed the mugs. Maybe it wasn’t an abusive boyfriend. She might be hiding from the law. He didn’t want to believe that Morgan was involved in anything shady. But he didn’t want to be a chump, either...not again.

He’d had enough lies in his life. His ex-wife had cheated on him for a year with his best friend before filing for divorce. Though he’d voiced suspicions, he’d believed Gretchen when she had said there was nothing going on. The deception had left a hole in his heart that would never mend.

He needed someone to deal with the day-to-day care of the horses so he could focus on the financial and promotional end of running The Stables. Plus, the Waverly Horse sale was in two days. He’d need her help picking out and hauling a horse.

Clearly, Morgan could do this job. As qualified as she was, though, he had zero tolerance for someone who couldn’t be forthright with him.

TWO

Morgan glanced over at the redheaded boy staring at the ground and then at his mother, a woman of about forty.

“His name is Richie. This is his first time riding. I’m Adele.” The mom gave away her nervousness with the wringing of her hands.

In the morning when she felt safe leaving the cottage to get a cell phone signal, Morgan had left a message with Brendan O’Toole, her contact at the marshals’ regional office in Des Moines. Even with all the doors and windows locked she’d had a restless night’s sleep. Though her nerves were on edge from the incident last night, she didn’t want to leave Alex high and dry. She’d swallowed her fear, gotten dressed and gone out to do her job. The marshals would get this cleared up soon enough and move her. She felt pretty sure nothing was going to happen to her in the daylight with all these people around.

The other four children in the therapeutic riding class were already being led around the riding arena on their horses.

Hoping to ease Adele’s fears, Morgan turned to face the boy. “Richie, you’re going to have a great time.”

Richie angled his body away from her.

“He has autism. He can’t talk, but he understands every word you say to him.” Adele patted the horse’s neck. “I used to ride all the time when I was a girl. I hope he loves it as much as I did.”

“I’m glad to hear you have some experience.” Morgan studied Richie, who continued to look at the ground. “How about if we get used to the horse?”

Adele took Richie’s hand and pulled him toward the horse that Morgan had already saddled. “Richie, this is Miss Smith, and she’s going to help you learn to ride.”

Richie nodded but didn’t make eye contact. He tugged on his shirt collar.

“Richie, meet George. He’s very gentle.” Using slow movements, Morgan took Richie’s hand and laid it flat on George’s neck. She moved his hand up and down. George angled his head toward Richie and sniggered. “He likes you.”

Richie grinned. Adele stepped in closer and stroked George’s nose.

In her peripheral vision, Morgan noticed a dark SUV pulling up in the lot. Two people, a man and woman, got out of the car. Morgan tensed. What were Serena Summers and Josh McCall from the St. Louis Marshal’s office doing here? They couldn’t have gotten the message from the Des Moines office and made the long drive that fast. But, now that they were here, she could talk to them about being moved.

“Miss Smith, what’s the next step?” Adele’s voice pulled Morgan from her anxious thoughts.

“I’m sorry. Do you feel comfortable leading Richie around? I’ll help get him into the saddle, and then I need to speak with these two people for a minute.”

As Josh and Serena drew near, Morgan instructed Richie to place his foot in the stirrup. The two marshals stood off at a distance, waiting for her to finish.

After Adele led Richie toward the group, Morgan crawled over the metal fence that surrounded the outdoor arena. Why hadn’t they told her they were coming? How could she ever expect to have anything that felt like a normal life if they could show up at any time? If Alex saw them, she’d have to make up a lie about who they were.

Both Josh and Serena nodded as she approached them.

The marshals were dressed more casually than the tailored suits and crisp white shirts they’d been wearing the first time she’d met them. Serena had pulled her dark hair up with a clip and she wore jeans and a button-down shirt. Josh dressed in a windbreaker, khakis and a polo shirt.

Morgan had met them once before when she’d been told that they were the ones handling the illegal adoption ring case. Her initial impression of Josh and Serena was that they were both good at their jobs, but there was a tension between them that she didn’t understand.

Morgan glanced around. It would be nice to hide in the barn while she talked to the marshals, but she couldn’t leave the class in case there was a crisis. Alex was in his office in the guesthouse. Hopefully, he’d stay inside so he wouldn’t wonder who Josh and Serena were. She didn’t like the idea of deceiving him.

Josh spoke first. “The reason we’re here is we just wrapped up a case that had some similar elements to it as yours. I don’t know if you saw the news story about a woman named Emma Bullock. She was found beaten nearly to death in a Minneapolis park. She had no memory of the assault or of who she was. She went by the name of Julie Thomas for a long time.”

So that’s why they’d come here. They probably hadn’t gotten her message yet. “I haven’t had time to watch the news.” She drew her attention to the students to make sure everything was running smoothly. “I don’t see how that relates to what happened to me in Mexico.”

Serena rested an arm on the fence. “As it turns out, Emma was trying to protect a baby at the time of the assault. Unfortunately, the baby was taken from her.”

Morgan’s chest tightened. More than anything, she hated that anyone would harm an innocent child. “Did they find the baby who was taken?”

Serena shook her head. The forcefulness of her words gave away how upset she was about the crime. “The missing baby’s name is Kay. Does that ring any bells for you?”

Morgan closed her eyes, trying to shut out the pain connected with knowing a child had been kidnapped. She shook her head. “Is this Emma woman Kay’s mother?”

“No,” Serena said. “Kay’s mom is a young girl named Lonnie. We’ve been unable to track her down either, and we’re afraid she may have met with foul play.

“For a while, we thought we might have found Kay. A blonde, blue-eyed baby was brought to the Denver airport by a man we know to be associated with this ring, and it was on the same day Emma was attacked.”

Josh pulled a photograph out of his jacket pocket. “As it turns out, there are two different babies. We call the little girl we intercepted in Denver Baby C. She’s in foster care right now.”

Morgan stared at the photo. A happy baby with a tuft of blond hair and bright eyes looked back at her.

“Does she look familiar to you?” Josh stepped toward her.

“Give her a moment to think, Josh.” Serena’s words were terse.

The tension between the two marshals had bubbled over. She wondered what the history was between them. It seemed personal. Maybe they had been involved at some point and weren’t anymore.

Josh shot Serena a look that had daggers in it and then turned to face Morgan. “A blonde, blue-eyed baby would be unusual in Mexico.”

The trauma of what she had been through made her memory foggy. “I definitely never placed a child who looked like that. But sometimes we had moms who would visit once and then change their minds.”

“It would have been shortly before you had to leave Mexico,” Josh said.

Morgan strained to put together a cohesive memory from that time. A vague picture materialized in her mind. “There was a mom with a blonde baby. I think the mom’s first name was Vanessa.”

Serena stepped closer to her, urgency filling her voice. “Do you remember her last name?”

Morgan shook her head. “If I had the records, notes and photographs from my office, I might be able to help you more.” Frustration rose to the surface. “Were you able to get anything from the agency office?”

“By the time we cleared the paperwork with the Mexican authorities, the place where you said your office was had a real-estate firm occupying it. We haven’t been able to locate the other woman you said worked there. Whatever you left behind got destroyed.”

Could her coworker have been a part of the deception? Anger burned inside her. The agency had represented itself as Christian. Had they used her to give the agency legitimacy? “So all you have to work with is what I witnessed.”

Josh cleared his throat. “We need to connect the dots in order to get the big fish behind all of this. We’re looking at multiple incidents in different states and now internationally. We put you under our protection because we believe your testimony might be valuable once our case is made.”

Serena picked up where Josh left off. “It would be helpful if you could remember any more details.”

The marshals weren’t hiding her out of the goodness of their hearts. She was in witness protection because they thought she might be of value. “I know that you expect me to help.”

Josh paced. “In all the dealings with these mothers and children, there must have been names mentioned. There has to be some sort of connection back in the States.”

Morgan shook her head. “We dealt with a lot of different agencies and people.” She tried to piece the memories together... “That night Josef attacked me in the office, I was going through the records. There was a pattern with three of the women, meeting with me and then deciding to keep their babies. And then a few weeks later, they’d be back ready to give up their kid. When they came back, they seemed agitated and afraid.”

Josh crossed his arms over his chest. “So you think they might have been blackmailed or coerced?”

Morgan nodded. “I noticed other things, too. My coworker started transporting the babies across the border to meet the adoptive parents. Adoptive parents are supposed to meet residency requirements in Mexico—they can’t just have their babies delivered.”

Josh shoved his hands in his pockets. Both of them must be mulling over what she had told them. “When you showed up, I thought maybe you’d gotten a message from my local contact,” Morgan said.

Josh looked at her. “Brendan never called us.”

“Last night at least two guys were prowling around the grounds. They tapped on my window and tried to open my door. Then when I was outside, one of them knocked me over.” Her voice tinged with anxiety. “Do you think whoever this big boss is could have found me already and sent someone?”

Josh seemed alarmed. “What happened after he knocked you over?”

“He ran off because Alex was coming around the corner. Alex thinks it was just teenagers goofing around, but I don’t know.”

Josh’s voice grew intense. “Did you get a look at him?”

“All I saw was his plaid coat,” Morgan said.

“That’s not much to go on.” Serena faced Morgan. “We can look into it from the angle of information having leaked out. I don’t think any details about your relocation have been shared with anyone outside the St. Louis office except with Brendan. If there’s even the possibility you’ve been found, we’ll move you.”

Josh looked directly at Morgan. “You haven’t said anything to anyone, have you?”

Morgan grew nervous, remembering how Alex had pressed her for details about her past. “No, I haven’t let anything slip.”

Serena glanced at the children in the class and the surrounding buildings. “Do you like it here, Morgan?”

“I do. I love it.” She’d hate having to leave. “It reminds me of where I grew up. It’s just that there are children here, and I wouldn’t want them being hurt at my expense.” Or Alex.

“Morgan, we’ll do everything to ensure you’re safe here.” Serena’s gaze was unwavering. “For today, we’ll stay in the area until we can clear this up.”

“We can check with local authorities. Find out if any other properties had prowlers. If it was teenagers, they might have decided to make a night of it,” said Josh as they headed out of the stall. “Call Brendan if you’re worried.

Serena and Josh headed back toward their car.

She listened to their footsteps fade as she turned her attention back to the class.

“Looks like the therapy riding class is going fine.” Alex had come up behind her without her noticing.

Again she looked at the student riders being led around the arena. “Yes, they seem to be doing pretty good. I haven’t had to jump in at all.”

“It’s pretty self-regulating once you get it started.” He studied her for a moment. “Who were those people you were talking to?”

Morgan turned away from Alex, gripping the top of the fence for support. “They were friends from Des Moines.” She squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself for lying.

“Maybe they could come out riding sometime.”

“Yes, that would be nice.” Her stomach coiled into tight knots.

“Listen, I’ve got a kid who’s going to come and help you with some of the manual labor a few days after school and on weekends. He’s worked for me for almost a year. Craig has some issues but he’s a hard worker, and I feel he deserves a chance. His father has had his share of heartbreak, most of them due to a drinking problem.”

In that moment she saw Alex’s heart. He wanted to give a troubled kid something better than what he had. “Everyone deserves a chance.” She turned her attention back to the class.

“I’m not throwing too much at you at once, am I? You seem distracted,” Alex said.

Richie had a big grin on his face as he rode George around the arena. The sun warmed her skin. She did like it here. It would be a shame to have to leave. She looked into Alex’s brown eyes. “No, Alex, you’re doing fine. I’m sorry if I’m not focusing like I should.”

Morgan looked out at the parking lot where Josh and Serena had just pulled out. Another slow-moving car went by on the road. At first, she thought the car was going to pull into the lot. Instead, it eased past.

The hair on the back of her neck electrified and she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the air. Why was the driver going so slowly? What was he looking for?

Alex touched her upper arm. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, remembering Serena’s reassurance. “It’s nothing.”

“Good then. Craig should be here later this afternoon.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him,” Morgan said.

“Tomorrow I’m going to the Waverly horse sale. I have funds to purchase another therapy horse. I’d value your opinion on picking one out.”

A horse sale meant crowds. And Waverly was one of the biggest in the Midwest. Even she had heard of it. “Isn’t there work to do around here?”

“No classes scheduled. We’ll get the horses squared away in the morning and head out.”

“Okay.” Her response sounded halfhearted. She might not even be here tomorrow.

“After you’re done with the class, there are some horses that need to be exercised. We try to make sure the boarded horses get out at least every other day. There’s a roster posted in the stable that shows when each horse was last exercised.”

Fear danced at the corners of her mind. She didn’t like the idea of riding alone when the marshals still hadn’t cleared up who the late-night prowlers were. “I suppose I can do that.”

Alex stepped toward her, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure everything is all right?”

She’d have to get beyond her own fear if she was going to do this job even if it was just for another day. “No, I’m fine.” And she’d have to learn to stuff her emotions a little better. Alex was way too tuned in to what she was feeling even when she tried to hide it.

Alex turned to go. She watched him amble back to the guesthouse.

Feeling uneasy, she returned to the class to help the students finish up and take the horses back to the stable to remove the saddles. She worked in the stable with no sign of Craig or word from the marshals. Alex had hired her to do a job.

Despite her fears, Morgan saddled up one of the boarded horses that needed to be exercised and headed for the trails that surrounded the property. The irony wasn’t lost on her that the horse she chose to ride was named Anxious Heart.

She could see a trail that looked like it led in a wide arc around the property with very little brush to obscure her view of the stable and outbuildings. She’d be able to see someone coming toward her from a long way off. She’d have time to get back to relative safety of the stable and other people.

She started Anxious off at a light canter. Sensing that the horse wanted to go faster, she pushed him into a gallop that turned into a hard run. The harder she pushed the horse, the faster he went.

She glanced side to side. She was the only one out here. Gradually, her anxiety subsided.

Out here in the quiet with only the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves, she could forget herself. She could convince herself that the faster she rode, the further her trouble would be away from her. She could outrun the loss and the fear.

Anxious showed signs of tiring. Morgan let up on the reins and sat up straighter in the saddle. A light rain sprinkled from the sky when she turned onto the trail that led back to the stables. A calm washed over her that made her think she could make it through the rest of the day while she waited to see if the marshals would relocate her.

When she led Anxious Heart through the open door of the stable, she spotted a teenage boy hammering a nail into a loose board on a stall gate.

“You must be Craig.”

“Yup.” The boy didn’t stop working. He was a tall, thin kid with hair that was blond on top and black on the bottom. He looked to be about fourteen.

Morgan walked toward him. “Alex probably told you. I’m Morgan.”

Craig stalked across the floor and picked up a bucket. When he finally looked at her, she saw hostility in his eyes.

The response took her aback. Alex had said that Craig had some issues. She decided not to do anything to feed his bad mood, whatever it was about. “Well, it looks like you know what you’re doing. Alex said you’ve worked here awhile.”

Craig let go of the bucket, causing it to clatter when it hit the dirt floor. “I’ve been doing this job for eight months now.”

His anger toward her was off-putting, but she refused to play into it. Her response was soft. “That’s wonderful. You’ll probably be able to teach me a few things.”

Craig drew his mouth into a tight line and wrinkled his nose. He leaned over, picked up the bucket and stomped off toward the other end of the stable.

Morgan led Anxious Heart into his stall, pulled his saddle off and started his rubdown. In light of everything she was dealing with, she could handle one ornery teenager. A few minutes later, Craig left the stable without explanation. Morgan finished getting Anxious Heart settled in and walked toward the entrance of the stable, taking the time to stroke the noses of the horses who wanted the attention.

A coat that must belong to Craig hung on a hook by the door. Morgan examined the plaid pattern. The same one she seen last night when she’d been knocked over. Through the open door, she saw Craig filling the troughs in the corral with water. The coat was probably a common enough one, but it would have to be a pretty big coincidence if it wasn’t him who’d tried to scare her last night. The discovery eased her fear, but she’d have to find out for sure before she called Josh and Serena.

Alex walked across the grounds toward her. “So you’ve met Craig.”

“Yes, I met him.” Morgan shaded her eyes from the sun. “I think it was Craig who was prowling around last night.”

Alex nodded. “What makes you say that?”

“His coat is the same one the guy who knocked me over was wearing. Craig and his friend wanted to scare me last night.”

Alex shook his head as his expression hardened. “I’m surprised he did that, but I think I know why. Craig mentioned that his dad would like the caretaker’s job. Robert Jones has plenty of experience with horses, but he’s not reliable,” Alex said.

“I guess that explains why he was so hostile toward me just now. He views me as the person who stole his dad’s job.”

Alex seemed incensed. “He has no right to treat you badly.”

She appreciated his defense of her. It was kind of chivalrous, actually. She grabbed his hand at the wrist. “You said yourself he’s a good worker. Maybe he needed to blow off some steam, and that will be the end of it.”

Admiration shone in Alex’s eyes. “It’s your call.”

“‘A soft answer turns away much wrath.’” The verse had come easily enough to her mind, an old habit.

His face brightened. “Proverbs 15:1. I know it well.”

He looked at her at though he was waiting for her to say something more. A spark of connection had passed between them. But even that was a lie. She’d lost everything in Mexico, including her faith. She had wanted to make a difference in the world and instead she had unwittingly aided in children being taken from their mothers. “It’s a really common verse. I don’t know why I even said it.”

He took a step back. Her harsh response may have stunned him. “I’ve got some bags of feed to unload.”

It was better that she not foster even a small connection to him. The marshals had warned her against forming any attachments. “Do you need my help?”

“I’ll get Craig to give me a hand,” Alex said. “Maybe I’ll have a word with him about what he did last night and tell him he needs to drop the attitude going forward.”

“How about I do it?” she said. “Maybe I can build a bridge.” Given Craig’s background and what Alex had said about him, she was willing to give him a second chance.

“Suit yourself. But if he gives you any more trouble, let me know. I can unload the feed myself.” He ambled across the yard.

She stood watching Alex take bags of feed off the back of the truck. Alex was what her dad would have called “a good hand,” a man who wasn’t afraid of physical work.

She walked toward the shed where she had seen Craig go. Alex thought they had something in common when she’d uttered the Bible verse. He had no idea how all of that now rang hollow for her. She longed to get back to the place where faith was as comfortable as a pair of broken-in boots, but she didn’t know if she ever would. Disillusionment had taken up residence in her life.

She stood at the opening of the shed. Craig had his back to her, but she could tell he was holding something. He turned slightly and she saw a kitten cupped in his hands. When Craig looked up and saw Morgan, all the warmth and softness evaporated from his expression.

“What are you looking at?” Craig sneered.

“Are you taking care of those kittens?” She stepped toward him. He had made a bed for a mother and her three babies.

“Alex lets me keep them here. My dad says cats are freeloaders.” His words were harsh and defensive, and he even seemed a little embarrassed.

She reached over and petted the kitten Craig held. “Do you kind of wish your dad would have gotten my job?” She understood Craig’s motivation. His father having a job would probably eliminate some of the shame associated with having a parent who drank too much. The job would have made his father look respectable...or maybe it was more simple, a financial need.

Craig’s features compressed, revealing harsh lines. He pulled the kitten away from her. “What do you care?”

“Was it you who tried to scare me last night?”

“So what if it was,” he snapped. “It should be me and my dad living in that house.”

Morgan stared down at the black-and-white cat licking one of her calico babies. For a brief moment, she’d seen a different side to Craig. He was capable of compassion. He deserved a chance. “How about we wipe the slate clean and start over? Last night never happened.”

Craig offered a halfhearted shrug. “Whatever.”

His posture and words were defensive, but she thought she saw just a flash of gratitude in his eyes. It was a start.

She stepped out of the shed and headed back to the barn. She took in a breath of straw-scented air and began to feel a little more relaxed about staying at The Stables. Alex had been right about the late-night prowlers. The knowledge that she hadn’t been found made her feel more confident about the Waverly horse sale and going out in public. Maybe a day spent helping Alex would be fun.

THREE

A chill hung in the air as Alex made his way to the stable. Morgan was already busy filling feed buckets when he stepped inside.

She looked up at him. “Hey, thought I’d get an early start. You wanted to be out of here by eight, right?”

She wore a denim coat with a lacy white top underneath and jeans. He grabbed a bucket off the wall and filled it with feed from a bin. “Thought I’d come out here and give you a hand, but you’ve got most of it done.”

He stroked the neck of one of the horses and then stepped inside the stall to look at a cut on its back leg. He helped Morgan finish with the feeding and watering. They worked quickly and quietly. When they stepped outside their breath came out in puffs in the cold morning air.

Morgan crossed her hands over her body. “Hope it warms up. This is cold for April.”

“It’s Iowa,” Alex said.

“Where I grew up in Wyoming it was cold, too, but this chill cuts through to my bones.”

It was the first piece of personal information she’d shared with him. He counted it a victory that she had even opened up to him that much. Maybe she was starting to trust him. “Wyoming, huh?”

A worried look came across her face. “All I meant was that it’s cold out here.” Her voice was monotone.

Her defenses went up so quickly. “I’ve already got the trailer hitched up.” He pointed toward the truck just beyond one of the corrals.

They drove through light highway traffic with Alex doing most of the talking. He shared his plans for repair and expansion of The Stables and his desire to grow the therapeutic riding part of the business.

Morgan offered words of encouragement and stared out the window at the passing landscape.

It was nice to talk to someone who understood his passion for how the horses could change lives.

Parking was at a premium despite their early arrival. This was the third day of a sale that would last a whole week. Though the bidding took place in the indoor arenas, they walked past a dirt lot where horses pulling buggies and riders on horses circled around.

Alex explained. “Gets the horses exercised, works out their nerves so they show better, plus potential buyers have a chance to see the horses in action.”

They made their way through the throng of people. Morgan seemed to grow more nervous. He saw fear in her eyes.

He touched her arm lightly. “Not much of a crowd person, huh?”

She nodded, edging closer to him. A cluster of people at the entrance jostled and pushed. He placed a protective hand on her back.

He leaned close and spoke into her ear. He could smell the light floral scent of her perfume. “It’ll seem less crowded once we get inside.”

The sale was set up with dozens of bidding arenas where the horses were paraded past the potential buyers. “The auction for the horses that might meet our needs won’t happen for a while.” He held up a catalog that contained a listing of all the horses for sale. “We can go down to the corral where they’re kept and have a look at them before the sale.”

They pushed through the crowd past a sign that indicated draft horses were being auctioned off. Morgan peered inside the arena. “Draft horses are so beautiful.”

“We have time to watch them. Why don’t we go have a seat?”

Morgan seemed to relax when they sat down. After a description of the draft horses, some single, some in pairs, and indication of the bloodlines, the auctioneer started the bidding while each horse was led back and forth in front of the spectators. A pair of draft horses went by with a rider standing on top of them, one leg on each horse’s back.

Morgan laughed and grabbed his arm. “Didn’t know I was going to see a circus act, too.”

It was good to see her enjoy herself. They shared some popcorn Alex had bought from a vendor who was walking through the bleachers. His shoulder pressed against hers. He glanced sideways at her. She blushed and turned slightly.

The glow of attraction didn’t surprise him. He’d thought she was beautiful from the moment he’d hired her. He liked that she had let her guard down even a little bit. The attraction wasn’t anything he would act on, though. After what his ex-wife had put him through, his desire for a romantic relationship was close to zero. Still, he felt at ease around her.

Maybe Morgan was running or hiding from someone. But he’d come to The Stables to escape, too. After Gretchen left him, the prospect of sitting behind a desk all day only added to his depression. He’d chosen to do that sort of dependable job for her anyway. The owners of The Stables hired him for his finance and marketing skills, but it was being around the horses that appealed to him most. Chalk it up to some boyhood dream of being a cowboy. He’d found an unexpected measure of happiness at The Stables. Maybe Morgan could, too.

Morgan glanced around at the crowd. Her mood seemed to shift slightly as she stared straight ahead.

“Everything all right?”

“Yes, fine.” She bit her lower lip. “I think I’ll go use the little girl’s room.”

Alex pointed off to the side of the arena. “Careful, you have to walk past the horses waiting to enter the arena.”

As he watched her descend the bleachers, he wondered what had stolen her good mood so quickly.

* * *

Morgan glanced up at the bleachers as she pushed through the crowd that had gathered on the floor of the arena. Up in the stands, Alex turned slightly to speak to the man next to him. She’d been having a pleasant time with him when she’d felt the press of a gaze on her. When she turned around, a man had stepped down the bleacher stairs and tapped the woman in front of her on the shoulder.

A false alarm. She was in a constant state of vigilance. Even her slip with Alex in telling him she was from Wyoming made her cringe. The information was benign enough, but she could not get into the habit of telling anyone who she used to be. The truth was, she felt relaxed around Alex. She wanted to share with him.

Morgan squeezed around several clusters of people.

“Wait a second, lady.” A burly man in a checked shirt with the sleeves cut off stuck his arm out to block her.

Becoming more aware of her surroundings, she stuttered in her step. She heard the screeching of metal and stomping of hooves. Two draft horses were led past her and into the arena. People crowded in on both sides of the entrance for the horses. The horse already in the arena must have been taken out the other side. Her heart beat a little faster at the sight of the huge animals.

The burly man pulled his arm toward his body. “Just didn’t want you to get stomped to bits.”

She nodded and walked past the gate, now closed, where a large grey Percheron stomped the dirt and nuzzled its handler.

Morgan used the restroom and then stepped outside. She was headed back toward the bleachers when she saw a man in a beige baseball hat standing by the restrooms. His eyes bore through her. He was a big man, built like a heavyweight boxer. The look of murder in his eyes reminded her of the look she’d seen in Josef Flores’s eyes in Mexico.

A group of women came between her and the man. When the women disappeared into the bathroom, the man in the baseball hat was gone. She took several steps back toward the bleachers. The gates screeched open and another draft horse thundered by. The animal yanked suddenly away from the handler and the crowd dispersed like cockroaches in the light. Panicked cries rose up. Morgan’s heart beat a little faster.

The handler regained control and three other men swarmed in to help. Once the spirited horse was secured in the arena, Morgan made her way to the bleachers. She spotted the beige hat moving through the crowd in front of her. On instinct, she pivoted. She couldn’t go back to the bleachers. If this man was after her, she’d be putting Alex in danger.

She scanned the area looking for a security guard. What would she tell them anyway, that a man in a baseball hat was staring at her in a menacing way?

To calm her nerves, she walked outside past several corrals containing different breeds of horses from quarter horses to miniatures and ponies. She crossed her arms over her chest and kept up a brisk pace until peace overtook the rising panic.

It’s not like beige was a unique color. Plenty of people probably wore that kind of hat. Still, the memory of the man’s sinister eyes narrowing as he looked at her made her keep walking. She stopped at a corral filled with Clydesdales. She watched owners and trainers bridle horses and lead them around the corral.

The day had warmed and the sun soothed her nerves. She closed her eyes. She had to let go of the notion that someone could come after her. The marshals knew what they were doing. Her fears about the prowlers had proved to be unfounded. Still, the memory of Josef’s words to her echoed in her brain: I will find you and kill you.

She opened her eyes and watched the horses awhile longer. A cluster of people slowly dispersed, leaving only a few stragglers. The man in the cap stood across the corral. Her breath caught even as her heart rate soared. He’d pulled his cap down so all she saw of his face was shadow and chin.

The man stepped in her direction.

She turned to run, smashing against hard muscle.

Alex gazed down at her. “What’s going on?”

“I...um...ah...” When she glanced across the corral, the man in the hat had vanished.

“You’re shaking.” He gripped her hands, his voice filled with concern.

Morgan struggled to pull it together, to at least manage the veneer of calm. What explanation could she possibly offer? “I thought somebody was following me, but I was wrong.”

He squeezed her hands a little tighter. “When I saw you turn the other way, I thought maybe you’d gone to check out the horses.”

She looked into his warm gentle eyes. She couldn’t lie to this man again, so she said nothing.

His voice held only compassion. “I can see that this has you upset. Why don’t we find a place to get a cup of coffee, and then we’ll go have a look at those horses?”

He demanded no answers or explanation from her for why she was so afraid. “I’m all right. Let’s go see the horses.” Being around the horses would help her regroup faster than a cup of coffee.

“Okay, we can do that.” He let go of her hands and scanned the corrals. “I think the lot that we want to look at is right over there.”

They walked through the labyrinth of corrals and spectators until they arrived at a fenced-in area containing six horses. “These horses are older quarter horses,” Alex explained. “Not showy, but good temperament.”

“You want a horse that doesn’t spook easily and is responsive to an inexperienced rider.” Morgan gripped the top railing of the fence as she studied the horses. “You can’t really tell much about them by standing here. Can I go in the corral?”

Alex shrugged. “I have no idea what the rules are about that. I guess you can do it at your own peril.”

As soon as she stepped into the corral, a sense of peace returned. She wandered among the horses, gauging their response to her, looking into their eyes, stroking their necks and backs, watching their reaction when she stepped into their peripheral vision. Horses tended to get jumpy when they thought something was coming at them from the side.

She patted the neck and mane of a chestnut gelding. “This one, I think.”

Alex flipped through his catalog. “That guy’s name is Chipper’s Boy.”

She stroked Chipper’s nose as he leaned into her touch. She looked into his dark eyes. “You’d love those kids, wouldn’t you?”

“Let’s go get settled so we can bid on him.” Alex’s voice fell softly on her ears. She glanced over at him and saw admiration in his eyes.

For the rest of the sale, Morgan kept looking over her shoulder trying to hide her anxiety from Alex. Why couldn’t she let go of her suspicions?

Three hours later, they were headed home with Chipper’s Boy loaded in the trailer.

Morgan settled into the passenger seat of the truck. She studied the curve of Alex’s ear, the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. The way his cowboy hat angled slightly to the left. Alex focused on the road ahead.

She appreciated that he hadn’t pressed her for answers she couldn’t give. He had a gentle unassuming quality that made him easy to be around.

“I had a good day,” said Morgan.

“Me, too,” he said. “The horses are my favorite part of the job.”

“But you don’t get to spend as much time with the horses as you’d like?”

“Take the good with the bad. It beats sitting in an office with no windows ten hours a day.”

“Is that what you used to do?”

“I worked for a financial firm. I like an office without walls or windows.”

She laughed. “I like wide-open spaces best, too. I feel like I can get a deep breath.” Something they had in common. “What was the reason for the job change?”

His jaw tightened. “That was a lifetime ago.”

She detected a twinge of pain in his words. Even he had things he didn’t want to talk about. So they both had secrets.

Alex checked his side and rearview mirrors. Morgan craned her neck.

“That car’s been behind us for a while.” She purged her voice of the fear that settled in her stomach.

Alex nodded. “Seems like it, doesn’t it? Probably just a man headed in the same direction as us.”

And maybe she had just imagined that the man in the baseball hat was following her. Her heightened awareness made her assume things, which only fueled her fears. She had to let go, had to learn to relax.

You’re safe now, Morgan. You’re safe.

She wanted to believe that.

FOUR

Alex’s hand curled into a fist and tension knotted up his back as he stared across the corral. He didn’t have to hear the conversation between Morgan and Craig to know that Craig was giving her trouble. The teen’s body language and snarling expression revealed the tone of the exchange.

Morgan had asked Alex not to interfere. She wanted to win Craig over on her terms. He wanted to respect her wishes, but it took every ounce of restraint he had not to jump in. Twin twelve-year-old girls waited for their first riding lesson. Morgan had saddled the first horse and pointed toward Craig to get the second saddle off the fence. The boy rested his arm on the fence and lifted his chin in defiance of her request.

That was it. He didn’t like seeing Morgan treated this way. This kid was out of line. Alex jumped over the post fence and stalked toward the saddle. He lifted it with a sideways glance toward Craig. “There’s a stall gate latch that needs to be repaired. Why don’t you go take care of that?”

“Sure, Mr. Reardon. I can do that for you.” After a disdainful glance toward Morgan, Craig meandered through the corral toward the gate.

Alex flung the saddle over the second horse while the two girls, Debbie and Doris, waited off to one side.

“Thanks, Alex,” said Morgan. The exasperation was evident in her voice as she looked over at Craig entering the stable. She turned her attention back toward her students. “Since you watched me do the first saddle, why don’t both of you come over and do the second one?”

The girls grimaced at each other, shrugged their shoulders and trudged toward the horse.

“Don’t be afraid,” Alex encouraged.

Both of the girls had ginger hair and an abundance of freckles. They stepped toward the horse, consulting each other in whispered tones. Doris had been the more talkative of the twins when their mother had dropped them off. Now both of them had fallen silent as they glanced nervously at Morgan.

“Doris, grab the front strap from underneath the horse and cinch it up,” Alex said.

His prompting seemed to trigger their memory for what they were supposed to do.

Morgan stood beside Alex but spoke to the twins. “Go ahead and run through the steps. I’ll stop you if I see anything incorrect.” Morgan crossed her arms and continued to watch the girls while she leaned in to talk to Alex. “Craig would have gotten the saddle for me eventually. He’s just testing his boundaries.”

“I couldn’t stand to watch it. And I don’t like the way he’s treating you.”

Morgan raised her voice. “Debbie, remember you don’t want any of that strap hanging loose. Hook the stirrup to the saddle horn if that makes it easier to see.” She watched for a moment. “There you go.”

Debbie turned toward Morgan and grinned at her mistake, jerking her shoulders up to her ears while her cheeks turned red.

Alex continued to speak in a hushed tone while he kept his eyes on the twins. “I could find a dozen other kids in town who want this job and wouldn’t be this kind of trouble.”

“You said yourself you want to help him. His conflict is with me.” Morgan grabbed Alex’s wrist. “Please, don’t fire him. I think the money from this job is the only income he and his father have right now. Craig mentioned something this morning about his father losing his janitorial job.”

Alex felt a pang of guilt. He wanted the kid to have a shot at something better than what he had, but Morgan didn’t deserve to be disrespected. “I’m not going to stand by and watch him mess with you like that. He needs to know that’s not right.”

Doris raised her hands in triumph. “We got it.” She turned to her sister for a high five.

“Give him some time,” Morgan said in a low voice before walking over to the girls. “Let’s check the tightness on the front and back strap.” Morgan placed her fingers between the saddle strap and the horse. “Good job—tight enough so it’s not going to fall off, but loose enough so it won’t dig into the horse’s side.”

“I can’t wait to race,” said Debbie.

Morgan laughed. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you gotta walk before you run, honey. Alex and I will lead you ladies around the arena and then you can ride on your own in there. Maybe for your second lesson, we’ll hit the trails.” Morgan glanced over at Alex. “Does that work for you?”

Morgan’s dark eyes danced with delight. She had a natural teaching ability. He had a pile of paperwork to deal with, but he would much rather be out here in the warm sun helping someone discover how wonderful riding could be. Being out here with Morgan made it doubly nice. Whatever task was at hand, they worked well together. “Morgan is right. We don’t want to rush anything.”

“Good then,” said Morgan. “Doris, go stand by your horse and Alex will show you how to get on.”

While they led the twins around the outdoor arena, Craig came out of the stable and then disappeared around the side. He returned a few minutes later holding a gas can.

Wonder what he’s up to.

He needed to let go of his suspicions. If Morgan was willing to be patient with the boy, he could be, too.

Morgan’s laughter pulled him from his thoughts. She handed the reins up to Debbie. “I think you’re ready for a little solo. Remember not to hold the reins too tight.”

Alex saw fear flash across Doris’s face. “Just a gentle walk around the arena. We’ll be right here watching,” he reassured.

“Remember what I said. The horses are very sensitive to your signals.” Morgan stepped backward without turning away from the twins.

Doris nodded and pressed her heels into the horse’s belly. Debbie took off a moment later. They bounced in the saddle, not matching their movements to the rhythm of the horse.

Morgan leaned back against the fence close to where Alex stood. Her proximity reminded him of that initial flush of attraction he’d felt at the horse sale.

“We should be seeing it any minute,” Alex said as he watched the girls circle the arena.

“See what?” She leaned even closer to him.

“The smile.” He tilted his head toward Debbie. “Wait for it.” Debbie’s features compressed into a look of extreme concentration. She circled the arena several more times. With each round, her stiff posture relaxed as did the tightness of her expression. By her third time around the arena, a smile formed on her face. He’d seen it a thousand times.

“Favorite part of my job,” he said.

“You have a teacher’s heart.” Morgan pressed her back against the fence and propped a leg up on a lower rung.

The look of contentment he saw on her face made him smile. He wanted to know her better. “Did you have any brothers and sisters when you were growing up in Wyoming?”

She pushed herself off the fence, the delight melting from her countenance. “Alex, you have to stop. I’m happy to answer any question that relates to this job, but don’t pry into my personal life.”

Her voice was like the cold edge of a knife slicing through him. The question had risen from natural curiosity. That’s how friendships grew, by getting to know more about a person. “I didn’t mean to step out of bounds.”

Her words were softer than before. “Maybe we should just focus on the work that we have to do here.” Her eyes held a pleading quality, as though she wanted to say more.

A dozen theories floated through his head about why she was such a fortress. He could entertain all sorts of speculations about who Morgan Smith was. None of it helped him to get to know her better. She wasn’t interested in sharing about herself. The bottom line was she didn’t want anything but a professional relationship with him. “I wasn’t intending to be nosy.” He held out his hand to her. “Truce.”

She shook his hand. Her fingers feathered lightly over his calloused palm. “Truce.”

Heat rose up his neck in response to her touch. “Back to work for both of us.”

She pulled free of his grip. “I need to get these girls off the horses in time for their mom’s return. I’ve got four horses yet that need to be exercised.”

“Four?” Exercising four horses would be a full day for one person. Craig’s duties didn’t extend to riding the horses.

“Yes, Bluebell hasn’t been ridden for a couple of days. I’ve taken her out as often as I can. I have yet to meet Bluebell’s owner. Does he or she ever come out to ride that beautiful animal?”

“Bluebell belongs to a woman named Stephanie. She’s boarded the horse for six months. I think I’ve seen her half a dozen times.” He turned back toward the guesthouse.

“She’s not a bad horse, just high-strung. She needs someone to work with her.” Morgan sounded indignant. “That really is the owner’s responsibility.”

He agreed that Stephanie wasn’t a very responsible owner, but he had to keep his opinions about his clients to himself. Today was Friday. The guests would be showing up soon, and the weekend would be nonstop interaction and work with lots of people wanting to ride. Morgan was already shouldering a lot of the work duties. “Tell you what. I’ll go inside and get a few things done. By the time you’ve gotten the twins’ horses settled and finished the lesson, I can come back out and we’ll take the horses out together.”

“Having company always makes the time go faster.” A faint smile graced her full mouth. “I’ll have the horses saddled up and ready.” He watched her walk back toward the twins, her long dark hair waving in the wind.

Was he a glutton for punishment or what? She’d just made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want him butting into her life, yet he’d looked for an excuse to spend time with her.

He shook his head and strode back toward the guesthouse.

* * *

After helping the twins unsaddle, rub down their horses and clamber into the car with their mother, Morgan returned to the stable. She hadn’t seen Craig since he’d left the lesson and stomped off to the stable. Despite his attitude, the boy did have a strong work ethic. He was probably in one of the other buildings doing whatever repairs needed to be done. Morgan picked up two bridles off the hay bale where she had instructed the twins to leave them.

Most of the tack was stored in narrow locked cabinets on the opposite wall from the horse stalls. Morgan retrieved a key and opened the door to the cabinet. A scraping sound caused her to take a step back. A spur that had been hooked to the cupboard door fell into the hay by her feet.

She picked up the spur and fingered the star-shaped rowel, which was designed to dig into a horse to make him go faster. Use of spurs was not a method she favored. If she hadn’t moved in time, the metal could have cut her or damaged an eye. No one would accidently put a spur up there.

Would Craig be so malicious as to do something like that, knowing that she was the only one who had a key to the tack cupboard? She debated whether to tell Alex or not. He was already on the verge of firing the kid. And what if she was wrong? What if a careless client had placed the spur up there? She would have no chance of winning Craig over. As resentful as the boy was, she just couldn’t picture him doing anything that would harm her physically. His defiance was much more up front.

Maybe it would be best not to tell Alex. She shook her head when she thought about him.

A spark of attraction had passed between them when he’d held her hand to call a truce. The fluttering of her heart at his touch caught her by surprise. The last thing she needed to do was fall for the boss. She touched her hand to her heart as the familiar sadness returned. If she couldn’t talk about who she used to be, how could she get close to anyone? Connection happened when two people fully knew each other. That wasn’t going to happen...not until all of this was over and the people behind the baby-smuggling ring were caught.

At least Alex seemed to finally understand that she didn’t want to talk about the past. The marshals had suggested that she create a new background in addition to having a new name. She couldn’t bring herself to live with that much falsehood. When she had first moved to Des Moines, she thought the best strategy would be to keep her distance from everyone. But then an intense loneliness had set in.

Here at The Stables, working with the children and the horses alleviated the loneliness and loss of purpose. Alex was the only one who had asked any probing questions.

Bluebell whinnied from her stall. “You’re raring to go, aren’t you?” She retrieved the horse’s bridle and slipped it over Bluebell’s head. The horse stretched her neck over the stall gate, and Morgan stroked her nose and neck.

Bluebell jerked her head back violently and shifted her weight from side to side. The metal of her bridle clinked with each head thrust. Several other horses stirred in their stalls. A thumping noise came from the loft. Morgan lifted her head. She smelled smoke. She sprinted toward the door, searching for the source of the fire.

Bluebell reared and kicked the gate of her stall. Frantic, Morgan opened the door. There was no fire outside. The smell of the smoke was much more intense inside. Her gaze traveled upward toward the loft, where smoke billowed out. Grabbing a wool saddle blanket, she climbed up the ladder. The fire was small but spreading quickly, fueled by the hay spread across the floor.

She placed the blanket over the flames, smothering them. She coughed as the smoke grew thicker. Pressing her forearm over her mouth, she whirled around. The flames had jumped to a straw bale. She could feel herself growing lightheaded as she picked up the wool blanket and stumbled toward the spreading flames.

Down below, wood splintered as Bluebell crashed through her stall. Heavy smoke surrounded Morgan. She coughed, struggling to beat back the flames. She felt dizzy as she swayed and slumped to the floor of the loft.

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