She must protect a baby...

With her secret husband’s help

In this Gold Country Cowboys novel, Jack Thorn gets a surprise call from the woman he married in secret years ago. Shannon Livingston needs his protection for herself and the baby she’s hiding from a biker gang targeting the mother. Now Jack must help Shannon, even if shielding her means pretending to be a true husband to the only woman he’s ever loved...

DANA MENTINK is a national bestselling author. She has been honored to win two Carol Awards, a HOLT Medallion and an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She’s authored more than thirty novels to date for Love Inspired Suspense and Harlequin Heartwarming. Dana loves feedback from her readers. Contact her at danamentink.com.

Also By Dana Mentink

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Pacific Coast Private Eyes

Dangerous Tidings

Seaside Secrets

Abducted

Dangerous Testimony

Military K-9 Unit

Top Secret Target

Rookie K-9 Unit

Seek and Find

Wings of Danger

Hazardous Homecoming

Secret Refuge

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Cowboy Bodyguard

Dana Mentink

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08461-1

COWBOY BODYGUARD

© 2018 Dana Mentink

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“They think we’re married,” Shannon said finally.

“We are, technically.”

“Only because we haven’t done the paperwork for a divorce.”

“It’s been seven years, Shannon. If you really wanted a divorce, you would have made it happen.”

“I do want one, Jack.” Her mouth hinted at more to come but she stayed quiet.

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “For the time being, it looks like we’re gonna have to play at being nice married folks until we get Dina and her baby out of this jam.”

A glimmer, a flicker, a shadow rippled across her face. Her mouth thinned into a grim line.

“Pack up. We’ll get a cab to the airstrip in the morning. I’ll keep watch tonight. They may come back. You can tell Dina where we’re headed. You have her cell number.”

“And where exactly are we headed?” she said over her shoulder.

He looked into the luminous eyes of the woman who was his wife in name only, wondering what he had just gotten himself into. “Home,” he said. “To Gold Bar.”

For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.

—Ephesians 2:8

Dear Reader,

Oh, boy! My heart did a little two-step as this cowboy series galloped into the third book. It touched on themes near and dear to my heart: family, loyalty, faith, love and the power of God to sweep away our deepest misconceptions in a brief moment. It seems to me, dear reader, that in all of our efforts and striving, we are searching for perfect love, a way to ease that empty space inside that only God can fill. Shannon believes she can find what she craves through work, in the face of her earthly father’s rejection. It will take many factors to help her see the truth: Jack, her mother, a relentless gang and the perfect innocence of a newborn baby. So come along on this journey with me through Gold Country. I hope the story will touch your heart the way it has mine! As always, I love to hear from my readers. You can find me on all the usual cyberstops: Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Pinterest, as well as my website, danamentink.com, where you can find a physical address, as well. Thank you for riding along with me, dear reader. God bless you!

Sincerely,

Dana Mentink

For my darling Emily and Holly, who inspire me every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Bible Verse

Dear Reader

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Shannon Livingston ignored the splashes of blood on her scrubs. She shoved the mask off her face and dropped it into the waste container.

Her patient, T.J. Willis, was alive in Los Angeles Mercy Hospital—at least for the moment—a fall down the stairs having left him with a basilar skull fracture and internal bleeding. His rowdy biker clan was waiting for a report. Hospital security was already apprised. The nurses had done what they could to placate the members of the Scarlet Tide: easing off T.J.’s “colors” instead of cutting the clothing and making sure Willis’s entourage had a private waiting area for the more than two dozen biker brothers. They’d followed hospital protocol for the known “one percenters,” an ironic name to set apart the bikers who were outlaws from the 99 percent who weren’t.

The bikers gathered in the waiting area were not law-abiding motorcycle enthusiasts, according to the police bulletins. They were criminals, and they wanted only one thing from Shannon, something she could not give them: a guarantee that T.J. would be okay. She sucked in a breath and exited the recovery room and headed to the waiting area, past a nervous security guard.

The raucous conversation ended abruptly as all eyes slid to her. Shannon noticed a young woman, barely out of her teens, clutching a baby in a lace-trimmed blanket.

“I’m Cruiser. Talk to us, Doc,” said the largest biker, whose face was covered by a black beard.

Cruiser was flanked by several equally hairy individuals with similar tattoos. To his right stood a tall, lanky man with his hair in a long braid, who regarded Shannon with undisguised hostility. “T.J.’s gonna live, right? He’s gonna be all right?”

“I can’t give you any guarantees,” she said. “He sustained serious injuries in the fall.”

“We know what happened,” the braided man said, jutting his chin at the girl. “She did this to him, pushed him down the stairs.”

“I didn’t,” the girl said, swallowing convulsively. “It was an accident.”

Veins stood out on Cruiser’s jaw. “We’ll deal with her later.”

Shannon’s heart dropped. The woman’s dark eyes caught hers, wet with tears. “What’s your name?”

“Dina,” she whispered. “Dina Brown.”

“Not your business, Doc,” Cruiser snapped. “She’s ours to tend to.”

Ours? As if she was some sort of property. Shannon lifted her chin. “Are you threatening her?”

He walked closer, almost close enough that his wiry beard touched her face. She did not back down, though her throat went dry. “I don’t make threats,” he said. “Just promises.”

Shannon stood her ground until he finally backed away. She took the opportunity to swivel on her heel and make an escape, figuring this was a matter for the cops. She’d make sure they’d help Dina. On her way to place a phone call to fill them in, she was called in to assist with a cardiac emergency. It was almost an hour before she finally found her way to the break room. The door swung shut behind her, and her shoulders sagged, reminding her how long she’d been on her feet for another marathon shift. A slight figure stepped out of the shadows.

The slender brunette was clutching a bundle, tears rolling down her freckled cheeks in mascara-tinted rivulets. “Dina? What happened?”

The bundle wriggled.

“I said I had to go change Annabell, and I sneaked away. They’re all over the hospital, looking for me. I hid behind a laundry cart, and I heard them. They’re coming for me.”

Shannon pulled a corner of the blanket aside, relieved to see a tiny pink-cheeked baby, perfect as a porcelain doll, sleeping peacefully in Dina’s arms.

“She’s beautiful. How old?”

The girl smiled for the first time. “Four months. She was born on Valentine’s Day.”

“What really happened with T.J.?”

The smile vanished. “We were arguing. I told him I was leaving. He said we belonged to him, and we’d never get away.”

Shannon noted the faded bruises on the young woman’s arms, the round scar on her wrist. Her pulse ticked higher as Dina continued.

“He grabbed me and started to shake me. I shoved him as hard as I could. He tripped and fell down the stairs, but he was okay. I mean, he was moving and groaning and stuff. I ran to get help, but...” The tears came faster now. “The Tide thinks I did it on purpose. I have to get out of here. I was so stupid to get involved with them.”

Voices erupted in the hallway outside. Dina clung to Shannon’s arm, her nails digging in. Annabell stirred in her sleep. They had to find a quiet place where they could talk it over without running into any Tide members. Shannon grabbed her purse.

She pulled open the door and saw a man in a sport coat, a cop whom she recognized as Detective Mason. He’d interviewed her in the past about some gang-related injuries she’d treated. He’ll help. But then she caught sight of the man across from him: Cruiser. Cruiser handed him a thick envelope. Mason put it in his coat pocket. Shannon’s breath caught. Mason was on the take. How many others on the force were, too? Just as she closed the door, Cruiser glanced up and saw her. His eyes narrowed, and he took a step in her direction.

Panic roiled through her body as she shut the door and jammed a chair under the knob. She didn’t know if Cruiser suspected Dina of seeking out Shannon, but he clearly wasn’t thrilled to know she’d seen him with Mason. Goose bumps erupted on her arms. Whom could they trust? Time to triage. Biggest need first. Get Dina and the baby to safety. “There’s a back way.” Together, they hurried out the rear entrance, Shannon rifling through her purse. “I’ve got some cash. We’ll get a cab.”

They burst through the exit doors into a mild Los Angeles evening. It took only a moment to flag down a taxi, from the line waiting at the hospital, and hop inside. She gave him the address to a café located a few miles away. Shannon relaxed a fraction as the driver pulled from the curb, until Dina glanced at her cell-phone screen. Face gone bloodless, she turned the screen to Shannon. “It’s from Cruiser.”

There’s nowhere to hide.

The rumble of an approaching motorcycle deafened them. “Scrunch down,” she told Dina, trying not to stare out the window as the two motorcyclists drew closer, threading their way through city traffic. It was too risky to go back to her apartment. The noise and clamor of the city seemed to cage her in like prison bars.

“The police...” she whispered, too low for the cabbie to hear over his music.

Dina shook her head violently. “No. Please. The Tide has paid off some of the cops. They turn a blind eye to the drug deals for a cut of the profits.” Tears rolled down her face and splashed onto the baby’s cheek.

“They aren’t all on the take,” Shannon started. “Some of them...”

“You don’t understand,” she snapped. “The Tide is powerful. The cops are scared of them. If I’m found guilty of pushing T.J. down the stairs, the Tide has people in prison who will kill me. They’ll take my baby. I just need to find my brother. He has connections. He’ll help me.”

Shannon tried to calm her hysteria. “No one is going to send you to prison for an accident. Where is your brother?”

“Central California. I don’t know where exactly, but I can find him. I just need a few days. That’s all. Please,” she whispered. “Please.”

Central California. Unexpectedly, her memory dredged up the warm springtime breezes from her hometown, Gold Bar, where she’d left behind her old life, and her first love, her husband, Jack Thorn. Though Jack traveled regularly to his uncle’s farm in Santa Barbara, she’d never once reached out to see him. He was there now, according to her friend Ella’s latest text, not two hours away, probably eased into a saddle in that way that made her think he was born to be on a horse. She could call him. Just for advice.

No. Too much betrayal. Too much pain. She did not have the right, even if they were still technically married. That was a mess she had yet to clean up, the legal untying of a colossal mistake.

The motorcycle pulled up alongside the cab. Cruiser scanned the street. His look was filled with hatred as his glance swept the vehicle. She thought about the girls she’d treated in her volunteer work at the women’s shelter, terrified young ladies with few options and no resources. Desperate, just like Dina. The memory stiffened her spine and cemented a decision deep in her gut.

A few days, that was all. She’d escort Dina someplace safe. The cabbie made it through the light, leaving the bikers stuck behind a loaded semi. They made a move to edge onto the sidewalk, but the presence of two traffic cops was enough to dissuade them. It was the break she needed. “I’ve changed my mind. Take us to the nearest rental-car company,” she told the cabbie.

She stared at the phone in her hand. Again, the urge to call Jack nearly overwhelmed her. Her finger hovered over the buttons.

Call him, her gut said.

* * *

Jack Thorn replayed the voice mail, again, for the dozenth time, just to be sure he wasn’t losing it.

“Jack, it’s Shannon. I’m in trouble. I...I don’t know how to handle it. Meet me at the Park Motel, in Fairview, please, as soon as you can. I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I am. I need your help. Please.”

Jack stared at his phone again, trying to still the irrational thumping of his pulse as he contemplated the run-down motel from under the brim of his battered cowboy hat. Fairview was just an hour from his uncle’s Santa Barbara property, where they’d been negotiating the sale of a beautiful Dutch warmblood, which would fit perfectly into the jumping sessions at his family’s Gold Bar Ranch. Why had Shannon called? Why now, when he’d finally gotten things squared away in his heart, decided to make the divorce happen? Her call wasn’t because of sentimental reasons—that much was clear.

I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I am...

She’d gotten that part correct. She didn’t have the right, even if that dusty marriage license folded in his Bible said otherwise. Just a piece of paper, which he should have shredded seven years ago. Their union was born of a time when they were both vulnerable, him missing her so badly it hurt, and her overwhelmed by the ponderous weight of the medical training that stretched before her. The marriage was a mistake. That was all. They both knew it.

So why was he here? Fairview was a nowhere town, smaller even than Gold Bar, but with none of the beauty, squashed in the shadow of a warehouse district. At least it was near a small airstrip, which was where he’d landed the Cessna. Was that why she’d chosen the meeting place? Questions tumbled in his mind, along with the worry that she had not responded to any of his follow-up texts, just like she’d avoided his calls and declined to talk about the state of their farcical marriage in her first few months of medical school. He was a file she’d put away in the drawer and refused to open. She was a song that played endlessly in his ears and simply would not fade away. He’d finally driven to her med-school campus midway through her first year and waited four hours to speak with her.

“We can’t keep going like this. I know you want a divorce. We should end things, then. Legally.”

“I just can’t get into it, Jack. Not now.”

“When, then?”

Not ever, it seemed to him. So they lived in a legal limbo: married, but not. He hadn’t seen her in over a year, their last encounter being an accidental meeting when she’d come to Gold Bar to visit her mother. It was a hot-cheeked, goosefleshed, endless few minutes. She’d been talking to a man at the inn, and a flash of something had seared through him. It didn’t take any skin off his nose to live with a secret marriage, but what about when she met someone else?

His palms were sweaty as he approached Room Seven. He’d faced down wild horses, fires and floods, and recently a murderer bent on killing his twin brother Owen’s now fiancée, Ella, but he’d never had to battle his nerves so hard to get them to obey. He forced his legs into motion, wiped his clammy palms on his jeans, straightened his Stetson and rapped softly on the warped wood. The door opened, and there she stood, Shannon Livingston. Shannon Livingston Thorn, his mind amended cruelly. Her long dark hair, the heavy curtain he’d trailed his fingers through so many times, was loose and tangled, her eyes the same flecked gold of new-spun honey, but now they did not hold that gleam of cockiness, only fear.

And there he was, a six-foot tall, gangly limbed cowboy, struck completely dumb.

While he stood mute as stone, she took his hand, her fingers cold on his skin, and pulled him inside the minuscule room. As he automatically removed his hat, his mouth dropped open at the sight of a young woman, who was sitting on one of the twin beds, rocking a baby, of all things.

He swiveled his gaze back to Shannon. “Let’s hear it.”

She huffed out a breath, pacing the mud-colored carpet. Her words came out in a rush. “Jack, this is Dina Brown and her daughter, Annabell. She’s in trouble. I need to hide them for a few days. We’ve been driving in a rental car, and the men who are after her somehow caught up with us again. I lost them, I think, but I got scared and called you. I would have called home, to Gold Bar, but...”

Hide them? What happened? His eyes wandered over the faded bruises on the young woman’s arms, a shiny cigarette burn near the wrist. A stream of other questions coursed through his mind, along with the most important one. Why did you call me? Instead, he settled on, “Who and why?”

She held up a palm, once more the in-control, unflappable Shannon. “Let me help Dina get a bottle ready for the baby, and then I’ll tell you everything. Promise.”

To give himself time to process, he looked around. A grocery bag with a loaf of bread sticking out the top, a paper map, keys to a rental car. On the run, instead of calling the police? Scared enough that she would take on the protection of a young woman and her baby? Maybe it wasn’t so hard to believe. Shannon was the most fearless person he knew, except for his younger brother Keegan, and she would face down anyone to right a wrong...unless she was the one who had inflicted it. He smothered the flicker of anger.

Shannon shook up a baby bottle and handed it to Dina. “I know this is crazy, Jack, but I need to get her somewhere safe until she finds her brother. There’s a gang after her, the Scarlet Tide. You know of them?”

“Can’t live in this state and not know of them. The cops...”

“We can’t trust them, not now. They...”

Her eyes rounded as a rumble filled the air, so loud it became a roar that shook the walls. He strode to the window and pulled the curtain aside a few inches. Two motorcycles, Harley-Davidsons, similar to the one Keegan rode in his wilder days, idled in the parking lot. The guys were big, one bearded, the other sporting a bandanna around his head, a braid poking out from underneath it.

“Cruiser,” Dina said, mouth trembling, as she peeked past his shoulder, while the baby sucked contentedly. “And Viper.” The bottle shook in her hand. “They found us again, and now they’re gonna kill me and take my baby.” The last bit came out as a whimper.

Shannon pulled Dina away from the window and folded her and the baby into an embrace. The gesture made his breath catch, for some reason. Both women looked at him.

“Hide in the bathroom,” Jack commanded. Dina ran with the baby, almost closing the door behind her except for a crack.

Shannon’s eyes were unreadable, shimmering with tension and something else. Guilt, probably, though she wouldn’t let that trouble her for more than a moment. She must have been desperate indeed to call him up.

As Jack continued to peer out, the two bikers surveyed the row of hotel rooms, considering. They weren’t sure which one was Shannon’s. They would wait, take shifts, and eventually, they’d know. There was no time to get the women out a rear exit without being detected, unless they climbed out the high bathroom window, and that would be tricky with a baby. They were trapped.

He could tell by Shannon’s quickened breaths that she’d come to the same conclusion. Her look to him was one of barely contained panic. His brain said call the cops. His gut said there was no other way, but somehow, his heart overruled them both.

He turned around and handed Shannon his cell. “Tell Dina to lock the bathroom door and call the police.”

“But...”

“Do it, Shannon.”

“Dina,” Shannon called. She pushed her way in. Her gasp told him the truth before she emerged with the baby in her arms.

“She bolted. Climbed out the window and left the baby on a towel. The diaper bag is stashed under the sink.” Shannon fingered a piece of paper scribbled with a lipstick note. “‘I’ll be back in two days. Keep her safe for me. Don’t let them take her.’”

He met Shannon’s eyes, the iridescent pools that pulled him in. “How do you want to play this?”

“I promised to buy Dina a few days to find her brother. If we call the cops now...”

He nodded. “Baby goes into foster care, most likely.”

Shannon bit her lip. “If the gang takes the baby, Dina will never get her back...” She shook her head. “I promised. A few days, I promised.”

“A promise is a promise,” he said, trying not to choke on the irony.

She lifted her chin, voice gone hard. “I understand if you don’t want any part of this. It’s not your mess. I shouldn’t have called you.”

He didn’t answer. Then he clapped on his Stetson, threw open the door and strode out, Shannon on his heels, still clutching the baby. That hadn’t changed, anyway. Shannon had never shied away from trouble.

The riders approached quickly, coming up close, too close. Viper spoke first. “It’s her. The doctor.”

“What are you doing here, Doc? Saw you beelining from the hospital,” Cruiser said. “Sudden vacation?”

Jack straightened to his full height, a good four inches taller than either man. “Who wants to know?”

Cruiser cocked his head. “Who are you, Cowboy?”

“Name’s Jack Thorn. Yours?”

“Not here for a meet and greet.”

Jack stared him down. “Then why are you here?”

“I want the girl and the baby.”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “I don’t have a girl and a baby to hand over—not that I would anyway.”

“So, who do you think you are? John Wayne?” Cruiser glared.

Jack didn’t answer, just stared.

Viper spoke up. “Doc treated our brother T.J. back at the hospital. We think she’s hiding somebody who pushed him down the stairs. Girl Doc here is a liar.”

“First point, she’s not a girl,” Jack said, looping an arm around Shannon’s waist. She went rigid. Every cell in his body felt stunned by the physical connection, as if some deep part of him remembered the woman he ached to forget. He punched the feelings back. “This is a woman, a doctor, and she’s here with me, nobody else, so watch your mouth.”

Cruiser’s hands bunched into fists. Jack kept his palm relaxed on her hip, ready. Anticipating an animal’s reaction was nothing new for him. He could tell when a horse was about to bolt, to kick, to struggle. Cruiser was going to make a move and soon.

Cruiser’s brow furrowed. “I think you’re lying, too.”

“I don’t care what you think.”

“Who are you, Cowboy?”

His mind whirled, searching and discarding ideas.

If things got physical, it would probably end with the baby being taken and Shannon hurt. Best to talk his way out of it.

“Like I said, name’s Jack.” He held his chin high. “I’m her husband.”

Husband. The word seemed to flutter in the wind like a Fourth of July flag. Viper strode past them and pushed into the hotel room. After a moment, he returned. “No one else there.”

Cruiser’s eyes narrowed. “And I suppose that’s your baby?”

You said it. I didn’t.

TWO

Jack felt Shannon pull away a fraction, heard a soft exhalation of air.

When Cruiser took a step toward the door, Shannon moved to meet him. “Stay away from my baby.”

Cruiser smiled. “Going all Mama Bear on me now? Baby’s pretty young to be traveling.” He jutted his chin. “Bringing it to a hotel in the middle of the sticks?”

Jack shrugged. “It was a good halfway point. We’re meeting up for a much-needed vacation,” he continued. “Our jobs keep us too busy, don’t they, Shan?” He nuzzled her ear, dizzied by the feel of her warm skin, his brain wondering what in the world he was playing at.

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled, heat rising off her.

“I think you’re lying,” Cruiser said. “If you’re married, where’s the ring?”

Jack smiled. “I thought we’d already covered that I don’t care what you think. Cowboys and doctors have to use their hands a lot. Rings are inconvenient when you’re saddling horses, not that it’s your business.”

Cruiser glared at him. “I still think you’re lying, Cowboy, and if I find out you’re hiding Dina, I’m gonna kill you both and take what’s ours—Dina and her baby.”

Jack released Shannon and stepped forward, every muscle taut. He came nose to nose with Cruiser. “No one,” he murmured, “is going to touch my wife.”

Cruiser raised a fist, and Jack did the same, jerking his head toward the building.

“All right, but before we get this rodeo started, here’s a tip. Make sure the camera gets your good side,” Jack said.

Cruiser jerked, gaze finding the security camera mounted on the wall. He stepped back a pace, breathing hard. “I want Dina and the baby. They belong to the Tide. Anyone who gets in my way is my enemy. The Tide doesn’t forget, and we don’t forgive. We are going to be watching you.” He stalked back to his bike, along with the other man, and drove off in a roar of exhaust. Jack led Shannon back into the hotel room.

Seconds ticked in awkward silence between them. How could he explain what he’d done letting them think the baby was theirs and he and Shannon a loving couple? He could come up with nothing, so he stayed quiet.

“They think we’re married,” she said finally.

“We are, technically.”

“Only because we haven’t done the paperwork for a divorce.”

“It’s been seven years, Shannon. If you really wanted a divorce, you would have made it happen.”

“I do want one, Jack.” Her mouth hinted at more to come, but she stayed quiet. He wanted to kiss her then, to press her lips to his and find out the truth. Mouths lied, but kisses didn’t.

He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “For the time being, it looks like we’re gonna have to play at being nice married folks until we get Dina and her baby out of this jam.”

A glimmer, a flicker, a shadow, rippled across her face. Her mouth thinned into a grim line.

“Anyway,” Jack said, putting them back on safe ground, “it bought us some time so Dina can find her brother.”

“I’m not sure anymore...” She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.

“I am. Pack up. We’ll get a cab to the airstrip in the morning. I’ll keep watch tonight. They may come back. Not that easily put off. You can tell Dina where we’re headed. You have her cell number.”

“And where exactly are we headed?” she said over her shoulder.

He looked into the luminous eyes of the woman who was still his wife—legally, anyway—wondering what he had just gotten himself into. “Home,” he said. “To Gold Bar.”

* * *

Emotions tumbled through Shannon’s insides as Jack landed the plane on the neglected airstrip on her uncle Oscar’s property. The sky was mellowing into a palette of lustrous sunset golds, set off by the brilliant green hills. After seven years, with as many visits as she could manage, Gold Bar was just as gorgeous as she remembered, and just as claustrophobic. It was a small town, where everybody knew everything, a place she would probably never return to if her mother and uncle were not still residents.

The pastures of Jack’s family’s Gold Bar Ranch were dotted with contented horses that meandered, tails swishing, over the thousand acres. She thought of Jack’s brothers. A new structure was visible, set apart from the main house. Jack’s brother Barrett and his new wife, Shelby, lived there. Jack’s twin, Owen, was engaged to Shannon’s best friend, Ella Cahill, a farrier who had narrowly escaped being framed for the murder of a local heiress’s nephew by a merciless con man. It pained her that she hadn’t even known about Ella’s dire situation until after it was resolved. Too busy to take calls, she’d told herself. Too busy to be a friend.

She eyed Jack. He had the same angular features and strong jaw, but there was something more pinched about his mouth, and his denim-blue eyes were harder. He wore his favorite cowboy boots, the ones he’d steadfastly refused to replace, instead having them resoled again and again. The fragrance of his barn jacket teased her, holding the faintest scent of a life far away, oiled leather, hay, the ranch. His life, not hers. You should ask about his brothers, make small talk. But the memory of a long-ago conversation with Jack robbed her of the words. Seven years ago, practically before the ink was dry on their marriage certificate, she’d told him their impulsive marriage was over.

It was a mistake, Jack.

As if she was critiquing a medical chart, instead of dooming a marriage.

I was scared, confused. I’m leaving for med school, and that’s all I can focus on.

I’m patient, he’d said.

I’m not coming back to Gold Bar, Jack. Not as your wife.

The marriage was an error in judgment. She’d been overwhelmed, and Jack had refused to admit that they’d outgrown each other. You did what you had to do. Now, if she could just get through this without losing everything she’d worked for. In typical Jack fashion, he had not pressed her for details about her current situation, allowing her to share as much as she knew. Jack was patient; he was completely her opposite.

The facts seemed clear enough. Dina was being abused by a man who lay in a coma for which the Scarlet Tide blamed her. The Los Angeles detective who had been investigating the case was on the take, and thanks to Jack, they could keep Annabell safe until Dina returned. John Larraby, an officer with the Gold Bar Police, was a high-school peer of theirs, and though she’d never liked him personally, maybe he could be trusted to help. It would be so much easier to tell him everything, but what would happen to Annabell? Whatever Dina had or hadn’t done, she did not deserve to lose her baby.

Shannon checked her phone messages. Her supervising physician was unhappy at her sudden departure, which she’d blamed on an emergency. It was the truth. What bigger emergency was there than a bunch of bikers ready to abduct a scared teen mom and her baby?

She’d had no choice but to run, but the potential professional consequences were terrifying. She’d labored for years to reach the final stages of her emergency-room internship. What if she lost it all? Then what would she be? Who would she be? She realized Jack was staring at her.

“Did you tell anyone we were coming to Gold Bar?” he asked, eyes flicking from his cell-phone screen to her.

“Only Dina. I texted her, like you said.”

“Work?”

“I phoned to tell them I had to take an emergency leave, but I didn’t mention where I was headed.”

He frowned, blue eyes darkening to the color of a restless sea.

“Why?”

“Because my brother just texted me that Larraby’s at the house, asking for you.”

Cold prickles erupted all over her skin. Had Mason alerted the local police somehow? But how would he know where they’d gone?

Her mind followed the trail. He might have found out from the hospital about her hastily arranged vacation, used his police connections to discover her hometown, checked flight plans and contacted local police. In other words, he’d made a guess that had paid off.

“We can’t trust the cops,” she said, holding the baby, as Jack helped her out of the plane and into a dusty SUV. “Detective Mason is in the Tide’s pocket. Larraby will believe what he says.”

“We may not have a choice.”

As they drove to the ranch, Shannon frantically tried to figure out what she would say to Larraby, or the Thorns, for that matter.

She knew her own cheeks were flushed red as they entered the Thorn home. Jack’s parents, Tom and Evie, had been kind and gracious to her, but she had not seen them since she left for med school.

“I’m not going to tell anyone about this,” Jack had said after their city-hall marriage in Southern California. “I want to tell my family properly, to present you as my bride.”

But that time had never arrived, and Jack had revealed during the flight that he’d never gotten around to telling them at all. So how were they going to explain it? It was ludicrous.

Her feet dragged like anchors as they neared the front door. The baby began to cry.

Evie Thorn’s eyes opened wide in shock as she looked from Shannon to the bundle in her arms. “Shannon... I... A...baby? I didn’t know.”

Me neither. Shannon gulped, with no idea what to say, but Evie offered a shaky hug, brushed back her bob of graying hair and ushered them in. John Larraby stood at the table with Evie’s husband, Tom, and youngest son, Keegan, who flashed her a puzzled smile, a half-eaten apple between his fingers. Owen and Ella were away for a while, Tom explained, visiting friends and purchasing a new wheelchair for Ella’s sister, Betsy.

Larraby greeted them. If he was surprised at her sudden arrival with a baby in tow, he did not show it. “I got a call from Detective Hal Mason in Los Angeles.”

So it had been Mason who called. She rocked the baby, who had begun to fuss.

“What did he say?” Jack asked.

Larraby’s dark gaze settled on her. “Says he wants to talk to Shannon Livingston about a patient she treated recently.” He raised an eyebrow. “And to congratulate you both on the new baby.”

The baby wriggled against Shannon, as if she could feel the embarrassment rising off her in waves. “I...uh...”

The announcement took the Thorn family by storm. Evie’s mouth was open in a wide O-shape of surprise. Keegan, too, was slack-jawed with astonishment. Only Tom seemed cool and collected.

“So, he told you about the baby?” Jack shot her a look, and in a flash of cold fear, she understood. The only way Mason could have known that Shannon was caring for Annabell was if the two gang members had told him. So, it was true. Mason was on the take.

“Well, this is a surprise, of course. We didn’t know that you two were still together,” Tom said.

“Should I pass along your cell-phone number to Mason?” Larraby asked.

Jack didn’t answer, but he locked eyes on Shannon’s. She knew him well enough to know the nonverbal. Your call. Should she lie to Larraby or trust him?

She wanted to straighten out the whole ridiculous scenario. I’m not going to fold neatly into this family and start raising children in Gold Bar. It’s all a ruse, a misunderstanding that we’re going to clear up right now.

Shannon took a breath and made a decision. “She’s not ours. She’s a friend’s, but there are good reasons why we’re pretending otherwise.”

Larraby hooked his thumbs in his gun belt. “Might this friend be the person the Tide believes pushed their brother T.J. down the stairs?”

Seconds ticked by that felt like hours. “This friend,” Shannon said carefully, “is a nineteen-year-old who has been beaten and terrorized by her boyfriend. She’s been in and out of shelters, afraid to stay and unable to leave for fear of what the Tide will do. She’s done nothing wrong. We are pretending to be this baby’s parents to give her a few days to find her brother. It’s her only chance to get herself and her baby out.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Motorcycle gang members are tough to prosecute. They stick together no matter what. They’d take a bullet for each other.”

“So would we,” Keegan said.

Larraby’s mouth tightened. “I’m going to lay it out for you. I don’t like Mason. We worked together on a task force because the Aces are the local motorcycle gang in this region, and they are sworn enemies of the Tide. We had some trouble a while back when the Tide came to town seeking revenge for some slight or another.” His gaze drifted momentarily to Keegan, who stared right back. “You know all about the Aces, don’t you, Keegan?”

“I was only a prospect,” Keegan said. “I never patched in.”

Larraby’s mouth quirked. “Too bad. You would have fit right in.”

“I won’t have that talk in this house,” Tom said. “Past is past.”

Shannon knew of the rage that simmered between the biological half brothers. Keegan was the product of an affair between Bryce Larraby and Keegan’s mother. Bryce had never acknowledged Keegan, and the hurt ran deep. Keegan’s troubled youth had led him into all sorts of difficulties, until the Thorn family took him in and eventually adopted him.

“Let him talk,” Keegan said, eyes sparking. “Makes him feel like a big man, like dear old dad.”

Tom put a hand on his youngest son’s shoulder, the pressure quieting him.

Larraby shrugged. “Personally, I think Mason is on the take, always has been, but no one can make anything against him stick. I don’t believe a word he says.”

Jack stared at Larraby. “So where does that leave us?”

“You’re protecting Dina Brown’s baby,” Larraby went on, “and as far as I’m concerned, that’s your business. I’ve got bigger problems right now, because the Aces are prepping for their national run, heading for a convention in Reno. They’ll be in the vicinity, and if the Tide shows up looking for the baby, there’s gonna be a turf war.” His gaze drifted momentarily to Keegan, who stared right back.

Larraby’s radio squawked, and he silenced it, turning to Jack and Shannon. “If you’re hiding this baby from the Tide, you better hide her well. That includes keeping your secrets from Mason. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

Jack nodded. Shannon didn’t answer.

Larraby waited a beat. “I will back up your story to Mason for a few days. As far as I know, you two are married and have a new little bundle of joy. If I get any orders to start an official investigation, though, then no more hands off. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “You’re giving us time. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” Larraby strode to the door. “The Tide is as dangerous as they come, almost as dangerous as a crooked cop. They want Dina, and they will go after the baby to find her. Watch your backs.”

The door closed behind him.

Evie stood, hands on hips. “All right, Jack William Thorn. I know you’re the strong, silent type, but now you’re going to spill it.”

Shannon knew what her unspoken thoughts were. Why would you take all this risk with a woman who abandoned you, a woman who wants nothing to do with Gold Bar?

Jack blew out a breath. “It’s complicated, Mama.”

She snorted. “Not really. What’s going on between you two?”

Keegan turned a chair around and straddled it, a mischievous smile on his face. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

Shannon watched Jack heave in a breath and drop the bomb. “Shannon and I are married,” he said. “We have been for seven years now.”

THREE

It took Jack a while to go through the whole story again. Parts of it, he could hardly wrap his mind around himself. He was a husband to Shannon, sort of, and caring for an actual, real live infant.

“So, you’ve been married?” Keegan said. “All this time? And you kept it a secret?”

He looked away from the merriment in Keegan’s eyes and the hurt in his mother’s, feeling lower than pond scum.

Shannon cleared her throat. “We... I...realized the marriage was a mistake right after we went through with it. We’re getting a divorce, but we just haven’t gotten around to it.”

Evie straightened and stared at Shannon. “This is too much. Keeping this secret was hurtful enough, but now finding out you’ve been stringing him along for seven years?”

Shannon went hot all over.

“Mama,” Jack said. “This is as much my fault as hers. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just...didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t want to talk about anything,” Keegan said. “Except horses and saddles. Silent as a man being shaved, as Granddad used to say.” He was still enjoying the whole drama.

The baby’s fussing turned into an all-out holler.

“I’m going to find Annabell some baby things.” Evie walked by, and Tom caught her around the waist.

“I’ll help.” He looked at her and squeezed again. Their eyes met, and she sighed, some of the anger leaking out of her. She did not exactly smile at Shannon, but her tone was softer.

“We’ll do everything we can to help you both.”

“Thank you,” Shannon said.

The time was broken up by his mother’s forays into the attic to find clothes, mostly in blues and yellows, leftovers from their babyhoods.

“The Thorn boys were all big tykes,” she said, “so little Annabell will be swimming in them, but at least she’ll have clean clothes to wear. Look, though. I found some pink things. Must have been from when I was expecting Barrett. I thought for sure he was going to be a girl.”

Keegan laughed. “He would have been one unattractive girl. Big as an ox and just as graceful.”

Shannon mumbled a thank-you.

Jack marveled at the sheer joy on his mother’s face as she sorted the clothes to take them to the wash. Even though the baby was not her kin, and they’d just shocked her badly, she had instantly offered up whatever she had. He blinked back a strong surge of emotion. His mother had a true servant’s heart. She didn’t deserve the hurt he’d dished out, not one bit of it.

She even managed to locate a bassinet, which made her eyes swim. Barrett ambled into the room with his arm around his wife, Shelby. Jack knew Keegan had filled him in on the latest bombshell.

“Perfect timing,” his mother said. “Barrett, can you go pick up diapers? I’m thinking a newborn size? She’s four months old, but tiny.”

Jack’s oldest brother rubbed his beard and broke out in a look of sheer panic when his mother began to expound over the various diaper options.

“Uh... I thought they just came in a one-size-fits-all kinda deal.”

Shelby laughed. “I’ll go with him. We’ll get bottles and formula and all the trimmings. Good practice for the future,” she said, elbowing him.

The expression of half terror, half longing on Barrett’s face made them all laugh.

When they finally finished rich bowls of stew with crusty slabs of bread, Shannon and Keegan tackled the dishes, while Evie rocked the baby in the adjoining room. Jack sank into a chair next to her. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she said with spirit. “I always told you keeping a secret is the same as lying, and here you were keeping quiet about a thing as important as marriage. Inexcusable.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She skimmed the baby’s downy head with her cheek. “Is it what you wanted, Jackie? The separation and the divorce?”

Her hands were so strong, he thought, calloused and capable, but she held the baby so tenderly. “I wanted her, Mama. I wanted Shannon.”

“Still?”

He shook his head. “I only need to be kicked in the teeth once to learn my lesson.” Part of his heart would always want her, but wanting and trusting were two different breeds.

“So, it’s going to be a divorce, then? When the baby is safe?”

Divorce. Ugly word. He swallowed, throat dust-dry. “Yeah.”

She bit her lip. “But this is probably painful for you. I mean, pretending to live as Shannon’s husband...”

It had taken him seven years to excise her from his every thought, but he was stronger now, over it, over her. Their marriage was made of flimsy paper. They were joined by nothing more concrete than words on a certificate. “We have to continue on, just until Dina makes contact with her brother. Then, after that...” He shrugged. “Nothing has changed.”

“Nothing?” She looked deep into his eyes.

He nodded. Nothing.

“Are you sure it isn’t better to give Annabell to the police, in spite of what Larraby said?”

“No, not sure, but I saw the bruises on Dina’s arms, Mama, the burns.” His fingers gripped the chair arm, fighting down the anger he felt that a man would choose to dominate a woman, physically hurt the mother of his own child. “We have to give her a chance to get free of the Tide.”

“But, Jackie.” Her voice was a soft murmur. “Shannon?”

Shannon looked over her shoulder at that moment. He glanced back, telling her silently and reminding himself. There’s nothing between us, Shannon. Don’t worry. I know that.

She turned away, wave of dark hair falling across the curve of her cheek, hiding herself from him, like she did from the rest of the world. Hurt thrummed again through his chest.

They decided it would be best to dive into the next round of explanations with Shannon’s mother the following morning, since Shannon could hardly keep her eyes open. The baby’s bassinet was next to the guest-room bed, where Shannon would sleep.

Though his body was wrung out with fatigue, he found himself still dressed, pacing his tiny room, filled with energy that no amount of reading or sit-ups could dissipate. He longed to play his guitar. Instead, he rummaged through his drawer until he found the small box that he had not been able to open since she’d returned it to him. The diamond set in the gold engagement band glimmered at him, taunting him for his stupidity. Six months of savings and weeks agonizing over the style, it had meant everything, and now it was only a dust catcher. Maybe that was what it had always been. He shoved it back in the drawer, pulled on his boots and let himself out.

The ranch at night always soothed him. There was music in the hush of the breeze stirring the grass and the springtime frog symphony echoing in the creek bed. Quiet places spoke to his soul—always had. Sunset brought the end to the clamor of horse trailers coming and going on their thousand-acre property, where they boarded and trained some sixty horses at a time. Nighttime held no clang of Ella’s hammer on the anvil as she crafted new horseshoes, no buzz of Keegan’s motorcycle along Oscar’s unused airstrip that Jack was saving every penny to buy. The only thing better than the quiet of the sleeping ranch was the divine peace he got when he flew his Cessna.

Lady, his mare, was sidled up to the split-rail fence, and Jack was surprised to see Shannon there, a blanket clutched around her, stroking Lady’s neck with tentative fingers. He cleared his throat so as not to startle her.

She jumped, shooting a guilty look at him. “The baby is sleeping.”

“They do that from time to time, I hear.”

Shannon’s long fingers made trails in Lady’s coat.

“You always wanted me to learn to ride.”

Pushed her to, as a matter of fact. Softly insistent, as was his way. The quietest bull in the china shop. “Shouldn’t have pressed.”

“Well, what self-respecting resident of Gold Bar doesn’t know how to ride a horse, right?” Her tone was bitter, brows drawn when she turned to him. “I never fit in here, no matter how much you wanted me to.”

“You could have, if you slowed down for a hot minute and gave it a chance.”

He expected anger. The tremble of her lip surprised him. “I can’t slow down, Jack. Not ever. I wish I could, but unless I’m in high gear, I feel like a failure.” She rested her forehead on the fence, and the surrender in it broke his heart.

He moved closer, reaching out toward her slender shoulders, the craving strong. Something told him his touch would not be welcome. Not anymore. He froze, and she straightened and strode back into the house, posture hunched.

Stroking Lady’s neck, he watched Shannon go, sorrow knifing him swiftly and mercilessly for all the ways they’d failed each other.

* * *

Shannon dreaded explaining the whole bizarre situation to her mother, but it had to be better than staying with the Thorns, who were polite, in spite of everything. She phoned the hospital to learn that T.J. was still in a coma. The Tide remained at his bedside, minus Cruiser, according to the night nurse. Since Evie was still laundering baby clothes, and Jack had a trailer full of newly arrived horses to unload, it was not until the afternoon that they left for the Gold Nugget Inn. By that time, Shannon was about ready to commandeer the keys and drive herself.

Her mother, Hazel, swathed in a checkered apron, met them in the lovely front parlor of the Gold Nugget Inn, which was mercifully empty of guests. She limped up on her cane, and Shannon felt a stab of guilt that she had not been able to visit more. Each visit left her riddled with guilt at leaving her mother, who’d lost her leg to diabetes. But Hazel would not tolerate the merest suggestion that Shannon should take any time off to tend to her, nor hire extra help at the Inn.

“You gotta fly, honey,” she’d said. “You were born to do it.”

Now tears coursed down Hazel’s plump cheeks, and her uncle, Oscar, kept scratching his white beard in puzzlement as the three followed Hazel and Oscar to the empty dining room and closed the glass-paned doors.

“You’re married?” Hazel wiped her eyes.

Shannon heard Jack let out a breath. “Technically, yes, but nothing has changed. We just haven’t gotten a divorce yet. We’re pretending we’re Annabell’s parents to protect Dina, until she can find her brother. Officer Larraby knows the truth, and the Thorns. We need you to keep the secret. There are very bad people looking for the baby.”

Her mother shook her head. “I always dreamed about you getting married, Shannon, but this...” She shrugged, and Shannon realized how much their hasty action, and the concealment of it, had cost their families.

I’ll get married someday, she wanted to say. When I meet the right person. But the words felt wrong in her mouth.

“We’ll do whatever you need, of course. I’m so happy to have you here.” Her eyes riveted on Annabell. “May I hold her?”

Shannon handed the infant to her mother, who wore an expression of such rapture, it made Shannon squirm.

“Is it okay if we stay here? Just for a few days?”

“Of course it is,” her mother said, eyes glued to the baby’s every movement. “We’ll put you in the Garden Room. No one is in the Night’s Stay Room, either, so you can use that if you need extra space for the baby’s things.”

Shannon had always loved the Night’s Stay Room, which adjoined the larger Garden Room. In the 1850s, customers would sometimes pay for their lodging with a pouch full of gold dust, and Hazel had discovered, in the old attic, a genuine brass scale, complete with weights. How many times had Shannon sneaked into that room when it wasn’t rented out, fascinated by the mechanism that analyzed so precisely, neatly measured value? She loved the precision of it—no ambiguity, unlike every other part of life.

Oscar fidgeted. “Sure, sure. That’ll do. Slow season before summer arrives. We got a room for you, Shannon, but, uh, well...”

Shannon frowned. “What is it, Uncle Oscar? You’ve never been any good at beating around the bush.”

“Uh, I get it that you’re trying to convince folks you’re married and raising a baby and all, but it doesn’t seem proper...”

Shannon finally got it, and a flood of heat went to her cheeks. Jack wore a pained expression.

“He can bunk with me,” Oscar said. “It’s right across from yours, on the top floor.”

“It’s not necessary...” she started, but how exactly were they supposed to carry on the happy family facade with her staying at the inn and him at the Gold Bar? She swallowed. “It’s only for a little while, until we locate Dina’s brother.”

“Sure, sure,” Oscar said.

“I’ll rock the baby for a while, shall I?” her mother said.

Just don’t get used to it, Mom, she wanted to say. I’m not back together with Jack, and there are no babies in our future. But it tugged at her heart to consider how much she’d disappointed the woman who’d been her only true champion. I’ll do better, Mom.

A frown crossed her mother’s face. “Honey, I just remembered something. I got a phone call yesterday afternoon. Someone who said they were your friend and they’d heard you were home for a visit. They wanted to chat with you.”

Her stomach dropped. “Who?”

“They didn’t give a name. Someone with a real raspy voice.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I...I told them you were coming soon. I’m sorry.” She frowned. “Was that bad?”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. Did he or she leave a number?”

“No, and the ancient rotary phone we have here doesn’t show recent callers or anything fancy like that. All I can tell you is it was a local call.”

“Local?” Jack frowned.

She nodded. “I have to press a button to accept if it’s a long-distance call. Like I said, ancient technology.”

“Mason’s still in Los Angeles,” Shannon said. “As far as I know, and it couldn’t be Cruiser.”

“Could we have a third party involved here?” Jack said.

Shannon blew out a breath. “Why not? Seems like everyone in the world is after us.”

“We’ll sort it out, Shan.”

She shouldered her bag, desperate to get upstairs and away from Jack’s quiet gaze. Turmoil bubbled in her stomach. Jack stopped her near the spiral staircase. He moved close, standing a full head taller than her, shoulders broad and strong. He was lithe as a cat in spite of his bulk, a trait she’d always admired.

“Here,” he said without preamble, holding something out to her.

The slender circle of gold fell into her palm, sending ripples of pain through every nerve as she recognized it. Her wedding ring.

“Jack, this isn’t...”

“I know what it is and isn’t,” he said sharply. “You’re playing a part, and so am I.” His eyes shone stark blue, like the interior part of the flame that burns the hottest. “Take it.”

Unable to answer, she shoved the ring on her finger, turned on her heel and marched up the steps without looking back.

* * *

Shannon jolted awake. Moonlight streamed through the crack in the curtains. The clock read 3:15 a.m. She sat up. The baby was asleep, breathing regularly in the bassinet next to her. She was swaddled in the pink pajamas Evie had found in the attic. Nothing in the room explained what had disturbed Shannon’s fitful rest.

She padded to the window and looked out over the lush hillside that bordered the main road. As she raised her hand to move the curtain farther aside, the moonlight captured the gold on her left ring finger.

You’re playing a part, and so am I. The bitterness in his voice cut deep. She pulled on a robe and tiptoed downstairs for a glass of water. Built when Gold Bar was a bustling mining town, the inn was never silent. There was a constant melody of creaking floorboards, gurgling pipes and the hooting of the screech owl that lived in the tallest pine. How different from the rush of city noise. Lost in thought, she stepped into the kitchen. As she opened the cupboard for a glass, a calloused palm wrapped around her mouth from behind, smothering her scream. Whiskers tickled her ear, sour breath hot on her cheek.

“Well, hello, Doc,” Cruiser murmured. “Enjoying your vacation?”

She gasped, and he eased his hand away a fraction. “How did you know I was here?”

“A little birdie told me. Drove right up from SoCal, soon as I knew where you were.”

A little birdie. The anonymous person who’d called the inn. Shannon wriggled and thrashed, but he held on, his arms like bands of steel. “Stay quiet,” he said. “You don’t want to wake up your mother, right? Or the baby? Heard it was a girl. Ain’t that a coincidence? Dina had herself a girl also, ’bout the same size as yours, I figure. What do you know about that?”

Slowly he turned her around, arm pressed across her windpipe, pinning her against the cupboard. Her hands clawed his forearm. His eyes narrowed. “Got a wedding ring now, too?”

“I told you,” she gasped. “The baby is mine—mine and Jack’s.”

“I think you’re lying, and there’s a penalty for lying. Want to know what it is?”

Now she was fighting for breath, and she knew she did not have long before she blacked out. If that happened, Annabell would be easy prey, and if Oscar, Hazel or Jack got in Cruiser’s way...

“I’m not lying,” she said.

He pressed harder, and her vision began to blur. “Nighty night, Doc.”

FOUR

The music floated through Jack’s earbuds, drowning out the sound of Oscar’s snores and making Jack long for his guitar. He’d often thought he should have picked up another instrument to avoid the guitar-strumming cowboy stereotype, but he’d never cared much what anyone else thought of him anyway. His fingers itched for the strings the way they had since he was four years old. Jack could never be coerced, bribed or cajoled into playing for family gatherings. Music was a private pleasure, one he’d finally shared with Shannon when they’d dated for six months, after she’d arrived the summer of his junior year of high school.

“Please, Jack. Just one song. Something that will make me cry.” She’d beg him to play for her as they sat on their favorite hilltop overlooking the valley. And he would play anything she wanted, anything that would move her and feed her soul. He’d played her favorite piece, “Mallorca,” the day her father left abruptly, the beginning and the end of everything, it seemed to Jack. She’d refused to tell him anything, and that was the day she’d started holding back, shutting down her feelings in a sealed vault he could not breach. He should have realized that something had changed in her, and so had the future they’d imagined together. The lovely piece thrummed through him now, memories of their youth entwined with the melody. He found himself playing it sometimes late at night, despising himself for his weakness.

Some tough cowboy, strumming sad songs at night and pining for lost love. Ridiculous.

Something intruded on his reverie. Still clothed in his jeans and a T-shirt, since he hadn’t packed a bag, he felt the slight vibration that made the photo above his bed rattle. Pulling out the earbuds, he sat up and listened. He heard nothing, but his gut was still tight. His twin brother, Owen, often said instinct was the quietest voice that shouted the loudest. For some reason, his instincts were hollering now.

He tiptoed out of bed and shuffled down the hallway, barefoot. All the doors were closed, and there was no sound of movement. Should he knock at Shannon’s door? Risk scaring her and waking the baby? Or should he send a text, which might startle her as badly as a knock? She was a light sleeper. She had to be a light sleeper in order to thrive in a profession where things could turn upside down in a minute.

Knuckles to the door, he hesitated. There was no light except the silver glow of the moon flowing up the stairwell. He felt again the ripples of unease, which cascaded along his spine like dissonant notes.

Downstairs.

He descended the creaking staircase, keeping to the edges, where the old wood was least likely to squeal, until he heard a thud and a gasp. After tearing down the stairs, he erupted into the kitchen. Moonlight traced the bulky form of a stocky man bending over something on the floor. Shannon! His breath caught, and he dived forward, slamming the guy against the cupboards.

The man Jack knew as Cruiser rolled quickly, his leather jacket squeaking under Jack’s fists. He grunted, wrestling Jack underneath him, until Jack forced him back and off. Cruiser was strong, but Jack was built for long, hard days working two-thousand-pound horses and managing the sprawling family acres. Cowboy tough beat biker muscle any day.

They both shot to their feet. He tried to get a sense of Shannon’s condition. She was somewhere in the shadows, but he dared not take his eyes off Cruiser.

“Shan?” he said. “Are you okay? Answer me.”

“Ain’t this cute? Hubby to the rescue,” Cruiser said, pulling a knife from his pocket. Jack knew knives, and he knew fighting, thanks to his brother Owen’s sometimes painful lessons. No matter how good your skills were, in a knife fight, you were going to get cut. Period. He pulled a chair close to him and held it up. He considered shouting an alarm, but adding Hazel and Oscar to the mix would elevate the stakes even more.

Keep the knife away from Shannon.

“Shan?” he called again. He thought he heard movement this time, but he couldn’t be sure.

Cruiser cocked his head, a grin splitting his face. “You’re some tough guy, huh, Cowboy?”

“Come at me with the knife, and you’ll find out.”

Cruiser’s brow creased in thought. “I think we’ll have to postpone this little dustup. I’ve already overstayed my welcome. I’m sure you got plenty of nosy cops in this Podunk town, and killing one will just cause a fuss. Don’t you worry, though, Cowboy. I’ll be back, and I will shred this inn and anyone in it to find the girl who busted up our boy T.J. and bring his baby home.”

“Told you before—there’s no girl, not here.”

“My informant thinks differently.”

“And who’s that?”

“None of your business.”

Now there definitely was movement at his feet. Shannon got to her knees, surging into the circle of moonlight. She had a coffee mug in her hand and threw the thing as hard as she could. Unfortunately, her aim was off. Jack shifted the chair to protect his head as the cup smashed into the legs, showering him with shards of ceramic.

Cruiser busted out in a guffaw. Jack used the moment to charge toward him, chair first, but he dodged back easily. There was a sound of pounding footsteps, and Oscar barreled into the room, a rifle in his grip.

Cruiser bolted out the door, with Jack on his heels. He would have given anything to have his rope with him to lasso the guy, but skilled as he was, that was a tall order while running barefoot over the gravel. Cruiser had his escape plan ready. A motorcycle was parked on the grass. Cruiser leaped on, kicked the engine to life and sped away.

Biting back the rage, Jack returned to the kitchen. All the lights were on now, and both Hazel and Oscar were crowded around Shannon. Her eyes were huge, the fear rapidly retreating in favor of anger. Nostrils flared, she gathered her robe around her. Anger. Good. He let out a breath.

“Who does he think he is?” she snapped.

“I called Larraby,” Oscar said to Jack. “He’s on his way.”

Shannon avoided her mother’s questions. “How’d he find us? Did the person you spoke to on the phone tell him?”

Jack realized his hands were balled into fists, so he forced them to relax. “He’s got an informant. Someone close.”

Hazel took Shannon’s arm. “Please, sit down, honey. He hurt you.”

“I’m okay, just winded.” She fingered the imprint of Cruiser’s arm on her throat.

Rage kindled in his belly, deep down, a foreign feeling. He stalked to the window, looking out on the serene pastures that surrounded the inn. Images shot through his brain, the squeak of leather, the tang of sweat, glint of a metal blade. Violence brought home to people who did not deserve it. It boiled his blood.

Cruiser thought he could roll into town and assault Shannon? Terrorize her into giving up Dina’s location or handing Annabell over?

Ain’t this cute? Hubby to the rescue.

Jack’s marriage had ended almost as soon as it began, but at that moment, in the chilly kitchen, he thought he understood what a husband must feel when his wife was under attack. It was a primal, roaring fire that threatened to explode into a conflagration. He could not explain it if someone paid him to. He breathed hard, fighting for control.

She doesn’t want to be your wife, Jack, not really. It’s just a charade.

At that moment, it did not matter. His ring was on her finger, and pretense or not, he would make his stand against Cruiser and the Tide.

* * *

Shannon’s throat pulsed with pain, but she did her best to soothe her mother and convince her uncle to put down the rifle. Oscar left to reassure the guests who had called down to the front desk to ask about the noise.

Shannon thought about Dina, who was running for her life somewhere out in the darkness, desperately hoping her brother would help her.

She closed her eyes, lost in a memory of another day when she’d lived in that very same inn at seventeen years old, waiting for the front door to open or the phone to ring. Daddy loves you, her mother said. He’ll come back.

Daddy doesn’t love anybody, she’d come to realize. He needed adoration, his wife’s, his daughter’s, his mistress’s. Their role was to be the mirror that reflected back to Hal Livingston what he wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jack touched her shoulder, and she whirled toward him.

“You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes flicked to her neck. Her heart beat hard as he skimmed his calloused fingers along her throat. “You should get that looked at.”

She waved him off. “I’m a doctor. Don’t you think I’d know if I was seriously hurt?”

“Doctors are the worst patients, so I’ve been told.” There was no smile on his face.

“No, cowboys are.”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t let you clobber me with the coffee mug.”

That deadpan delivery of his. Now she smiled, and so did he. “Throwing isn’t my thing. You know I never hung out on a sports field.”

“Except when you took your nose out of a book long enough to watch me run track.”

“I was doing my part for the home team.”

“Always had my best times when you were there.” He looked as though he wished he had not said it, his gaze dropping to his feet. Part of her wished he hadn’t, either.

He cleared his throat. “Larraby will be here soon. He’ll press for protective custody for you and the baby. He’ll be right.”

“No.”

“Dina’s not telling you the whole story about her brother.”

“I know.”

Chin cocked, he stared at her. “Why are you trying so hard for her, Shan?”

Shan. Why did her nickname sound so soft on his lips? Like they were still a couple.

“I love you, Shan, and you love me, too. Marry me.”

And she had, and her soul had found happiness for the first time in her life, until reality set in. They’d had the world at their feet, but they were different worlds. He wanted this world, small town, close family, simple life. She wanted to escape to the big city, climb the career ladder and prove to herself and everyone else that she was the best in her field. He was waiting for an answer. Why was she risking it all to help Dina? “I’m a...”

“Don’t give me the doctor-responsibility line.”

“It’s not a line,” she snapped.

He moved closer, boxing her in. “Tell me the truth. Why are you willing to risk your life for Dina Brown?”

She could not look away from the brilliant blue eyes, so insightful and filled with that easy confidence that came from having a stable family who showed you what unconditional love meant. Wrapped up safe in a small town. You made your choices, Shannon. She set her shoulders and pushed at his arm. “I’m going to take care of her, Jack, that’s all. If you’re certain I’m making a mistake, go back to the ranch. There’s no reason to continue this marriage farce, even if it amuses you to torture me.”

He took her wrist and pulled her a step closer. Her pulse thrummed in her ears. His mouth was so close to hers, and his voice hard and smooth at the same time. “None of this amuses me.”

She wanted to fire off a glib retort, something scathing, with snap. But she found she could not utter a word. He leaned in as if he would whisper in her ear, but he said nothing, and neither did she, frozen in the grip of their private thoughts.

For a split second, she wanted nothing more than for him to cross the distance between them, to circle her in strong arms that would stave off the fear, press her against his chest so she could hear the slow and steady beat of his heart. Her mouth went dry, and she stepped back.

“I...I need to check on Annabell.”

He released her without another word.

She fled into the room, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading away. Annabell was breathing deeply, lying on her back, with one bitty fist crammed in her mouth. Shannon felt a surge of anger at herself. How had she gone downstairs without her phone, which was, at that moment, across the room, charging next to the bed? How stupid. No, not stupid, she corrected. She hadn’t fully understood the stakes.

Now she did. Cruiser impressed that on her.

Life or death.

Fine. She was used to those stakes. In the ER, she battled against death every moment of every shift, and most of the time, she won. She’d win this time, too. She reached out to feel Annabell’s hands, to be sure the baby was warm enough, when the doorknob rattled. She froze.

Jack? But he would have knocked. As would her mother or uncle. Again the metal handle rattled. A guest? But there were no other rooms on this end of the inn, only hers and the room Oscar was sharing with Jack.

She debated going to grab her phone, but another sound blew all her plans away. It was the sound of something metal sliding into the lock. Not a key, no—more like a file.

Someone was picking the lock.

Phone or baby?

She had only a moment to decide. With a rush of adrenaline, she scooped up the sleeping baby and ran for Night’s Stay.

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