Where there’s a will...there’s murder.

Crisis: Cattle Barge reaches its exciting Christmas finale!

When the Butlers gather for the Christmas reading of their murdered father’s will, tracker Rory Scott is focused on finding the killer targeting his ex, Cadence Butler. He’s shocked to find the ranch heiress pregnant...with his twins. Wild spirit Rory has never “done” love, but keeping Cadence safe on the run threatens to tame his untamable heart.

Crisis: Cattle Barge

USA TODAY bestselling author BARB HAN lives in north Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/ standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at barbhan.com.

Also by Barb Han

Sudden Setup

Endangered Heiress

Texas Grit

Kidnapped at Christmas

Murder and Mistletoe

Bulletproof Christmas

Stockyard Snatching

Delivering Justice

One Tough Texan

Texas-Sized Trouble

Texas Witness

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Bulletproof Christmas

Barb Han

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07956-3

BULLETPROOF CHRISTMAS

© 2018 Barb Han

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.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

MILLS & BOON

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All my love to Brandon, Jacob and Tori. And to all the

grand adventures that lay ahead.

To Babe, my bulletproof hero, for being my great love,

my place to call home. This life is everything.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Patience. Silence. Purpose. The mantra had kept Rory Scott alive while tracking some of the most ruthless poachers in the country. Belly crawling toward a makeshift campsite on the Hereford Ranch in Cattle Barge, Texas, he adjusted his night-vision goggles to gain a better view and evaluate the situation.

A two-person tent was set up twenty-five feet ahead and slightly to his left. It looked expensive, like it was from one of those stores in the city that overcharged for basic camping supplies, promising to guard people from the elements or turn desk jockeys into outdoorsmen with the right backpack.

A campfire was spitting blue-and-yellow embers into the frigid night air not ten feet away from a brown-and-beige pop-up tent. The light coming from the blaze would be a beacon to anyone who might be traveling in the area. Of course, this was private property so there shouldn’t have been anyone around. The Hereford Ranch was one of the rare few in Texas that was successful enough selling cattle that the owners weren’t forced to lease parts of the land for hunting. The land and mineral rights were owned by one of the wealthiest families in the state, the Butlers. Rory had personal knowledge that no one had been given permission to be there. This campsite was a trespassing violation at the very least, possibly more.

A law meant to crack down on illegal hunting made it a felony offense to poach on someone’s land. And that sifted out the less-experienced thrill-seekers. The pros upped the ante, which also made them more dangerous than ever. Rory didn’t mind putting his life on the line for a good cause since he didn’t doubt his skills and could net a bigger paycheck because of the increased risk. Besides, he had no one at home waiting for him to return and that was the way he liked living life.

This campsite looked set up for a romantic rendezvous but Rory had too much experience to take anything at face value. He wouldn’t put anything past a skilled poacher. This whole scenario could be cover for a scout, someone who fed information to poachers.

Surveying the perimeter, Rory located a small bag of trash tied to a tree roughly ten yards away from the campsite. Every experienced outdoorsman knew to hang his trash far away from his campsite or risk attracting dangerous wildlife searching for an easy meal. By contrast, most didn’t shop at those overpriced stores.

Rory took a breath of fresh Texas air in his lungs. He’d been working on a ranch in Wyoming for the past five months while trying to keep his thoughts away from the woman he’d walked away from. Time was supposed to give perspective. He sighed sharply. Clearly, it would take more than five months to rid his mind of Cadence Butler.

When her brother Dade had called to say he needed the best tracker, Rory wasted no time getting on the road.

Of course, the Butlers didn’t know he was coming. He’d refused the job with his friends because it was best that no one—and that included the Butler family—knew he’d be on-site. Not just because of his past relationship with Cadence. Relationship? That was probably a strong word. More like history. It was their history that had caused him to momentarily lose his grip on reality by spending one too many nights with the off-limits heiress. Keeping the family, and everyone else, in the dark would give him the element of surprise. If one of the Butlers knew he was coming, word could get out.

Dade wouldn’t have called if he’d known about the fling. Rory and Cadence had kept their relationship on the quiet side, or so he had thought until her father confronted him. The charismatic Maverick Mike Butler had been right about one thing: Rory had no business seeing the man’s daughter. She was out of his league and Cadence would never survive his lifestyle of living on the range, being constantly on the go.

The thought of settling into one spot made Rory’s collar shrink. He had a cabin built for one in Texas near Cattle Barge that he called home. One was his lucky number.

No matter what else, it was best that the Butlers had no idea he’d be around. One slip would cause word to get out, since a small family-oriented place like Cattle Barge wasn’t known for being able to keep a secret. Hell, the town’s business had been plastered across every newspaper for months ever since Maverick Mike Butler’s murder last summer, which Rory was truly sorry for when he’d found out about it. Mr. Butler had given Rory a job when he was lost and alone at fifteen years old. Rory had kept his life on the straight and narrow because of the opportunity he’d been given and he would go to his own grave grateful for the hand up when he’d been down on his luck and searching for a steady place to land. Rory had never minded hard work, and Mr. Butler’s only caveat for keeping his job had been that Rory finish high school.

He had, and his boss had attended his graduation. He’d patted Rory on the back and told him he was proud of him.

Granted, the man didn’t like Rory having anything to do with Cadence. But Rory couldn’t blame a father for wanting to protect his daughter. Maverick Mike seemed to know on instinct the same fact Rory had surmised early on—that he’d only cause Cadence heartache.

Even though her father had had harsh words for him, Rory respected the man who’d grown up a sharecropper’s son but made good on his life.

His heart went out to the family for their loss and his thoughts often wound to Cadence in the months since, wondering how she was handling the news.

Being in Cattle Barge and thinking about the past caused memories of his parents’ volatile marriage to resurface. Heavy weights bore down on his shoulders and it was doing nothing to improve his sour mood.

To make matters worse, Christmas was around the corner. He’d lost touch with his sister, Renee, who was the only other sane person in the family. She’d split at seventeen years old, and then he took off shortly after. The holidays made him think about her, wonder where she was now and if she was happy.

Rory shook off the emotions wrapping a heavy blanket around him. No good ever came of thinking about his family or the empty holiday he faced being alone. He reminded himself that it was his choice to be by himself. He had no use for distractions.

He performed a mental headshake in hopes of clearing his mind. Surveying the campsite again, he skimmed the area for signs of people. It was cold tonight and he doubted the warmth from the fire would be enough. A piece of material meant to secure the tent flapped with the wind. Inside, it was empty.

Rory rolled a few times on the cold earth. His movement stealth-like and with purpose. This vantage point allowed him a better view inside the small tent. There were two sleeping bags that had been placed next to each other inside.

Being back on Butler land made him think about the time he and Cadence had stayed up all night talking in her father’s barn. It was the first time he realized his feelings were careening out of control. Because staying up all night with a woman to talk had never held a lot of appeal before her. Cadence was the perfect mix of intelligence, sass and sense of humor. She was always on the go and sometimes acted before she thought something through, but her heart was always in the right place. His chest clutched while he thought about her. He needed to stop himself right there. That was the past. She was the past. The best way to end up thrown from his horse was to keep looking backward.

Besides, nothing could be changed and he’d only end up with a crick in his neck.

A log crackled, sending another round of burning embers into the air. Rory hoped like hell the couple who’d lit it didn’t have plans to go to sleep with the blaze still going, if there was a couple. There was no accounting for lack of skill and knowledge. If this was a situation with inexperienced campers they might not even realize they’d set up on private property. A place as massive as Hereford was impossible to cordon off completely from the outside world, even though security would be tighter following Mr. Butler’s murder.

Rory changed position again, moving stealthily along the tree line near the lake. He crouched behind the trunk of a mesquite tree, watching, waiting. A blast of frigid air penetrated straight through his winter jacket. It was twelve in the morning, which could be considered early or late, depending on point of view. Tomorrow was supposed to be even colder. The mornings were already crisp and the forecast said a cold front was moving in for Christmas Eve in five days.

He shouldn’t complain. This was nothing compared to December weather in Wyoming. Forty degrees was practically a heat wave.

The twenty-hours-straight drive had tied Rory’s muscles into knots. They were screaming to be stretched. Exhaustion and cold slowed his reflexes. He’d have to take that into account if he confronted the campers.

Protecting the Butler property took top priority for reasons he didn’t want to examine. He’d known the family since he was a kid. His father had worked in the barn for part of Rory’s childhood before blowing up at his boss and getting fired. Rory had plenty of fond memories of spending time with the twins, Dalton and Dade. The Butler boys had treated him like one of them from the very beginning. That was most likely the reason he felt compelled to take this job and why he felt so damn guilty for having the fling with Cadence.

Rory could rest later when he turned over the bad guys and collected his paycheck.

At this time of night, the campers should have been in their tent. The wind had picked up and Rory was certain the temperature had dropped ten degrees in the last hour.

Moving silently along the perimeter of their camp, he repositioned away from the water, noting that this location was a little too close to the Butler home for comfort.

A noise on the opposite side, the place where he’d first set up, caught his attention. Rory flattened his body against the cold hard earth. Wind whipped the fire around as he flexed and released his fingers to keep blood flowing.

A man came into view of the firelight. He had to be roughly five feet ten inches, if Rory had to guess, a good four inches shorter than him. The guy had on jogging pants, tennis shoes and a dark hoodie. A smallish dog—on closer inspection, it looked like a beagle mix—trotted behind City Guy’s heels. That was bad news for Rory because the dog would pick up his scent and give away his location. Even with the fierce winds, it was only a matter of time before the beagle found him.

To avoid that fiasco, he would make himself known. He hopped to his feet and moved about fifteen feet closer before making a loud grunting noise to call attention to his presence. He needed a good reason to be out there alone this time of night...

“Dammit,” he said loudly as he stalked out of the shadows, making as much noise as one man could without a herd of elephants behind him. “I seem to have lost my hunting knife. It was a present from my girlfriend and things haven’t been so great between us lately. I really don’t want to have to go home and explain that. There’s no chance you’ve seen it, is there?”

From this distance, Rory could see the man’s face had a day’s worth of stubble and he was wearing one of those expensive compass watches. No way was this an outdoorsman.

City Guy seemed thrown by Rory’s presence, making him believe the man was either up to no good or scared out of his wits. Poachers were generally harder to detect and it usually took days, sometimes weeks, to track them. They rarely ever set up camp unless they were armed to the nines or stupid, and the latter were easily caught.

The man quickly recovered a casual disposition, bending down to grab his dog by the collar. He took a knee next to the beagle. “Sorry, what did you say you’re looking for?”

“A knife about so-big.” Rory made a show of holding his hands out, palms facing each other, to indicate a roughly nine-inch blade and subtly lead the man to believe that he wasn’t carrying another weapon. In this position, it would take Rory approximately three seconds to drop, roll and come up with the handgun in his ankle holster. Everyone in this part of Texas carried for protection against wild animals, so he assumed City Guy was armed, too.

“What makes you think it’s around here?” City Guy said, keeping a cautious-looking eye on Rory while covering most of his face with the brim of his ball cap.

“According to my GPS, I was somewhere around this area hunting this morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Technically, yesterday morning. Guess it was pretty early, around daybreak.” Rory was fishing to see when the guy set up camp.

“We didn’t get here until noon. I checked the area as I set up and didn’t see anything.” The guy shrugged.

“I’m Rory, by the way.”

“My name is—” there was a hesitation so brief that Rory almost wrote it off as his imagination but then City Guy finished “—Dexter but everyone calls me Dex. And this is Boots.”

He made a show of scratching the dog behind his ears.

Even though Dex was considerably smaller than Rory, it was obvious the guy hit the gym. And Rory would put his life savings on the fact that the guy’s name wasn’t Dexter.

“Nice to meet you both.” Rory picked up his earlier ruse by pretending to search the ground using his phone’s flashlight app. Maybe he could needle the guy for a little information or see if he could get him talking and trip him up. “I’m such an idiot. How does someone lose a nine-inch knife?” He shook his head and threw his hands in the air.

“It most likely slipped out of your pack,” Dex said. “Could happen to anyone.”

“You’re probably right.” Rory scanned the ground. “And I’m starting to think I was crazy to think I could find anything in the dark.”

“Your flashlight might catch the metal,” Dex said, keeping one eye on Rory.

“That was my thought, too.” If he could get the guy to think he was an amateur, he might be able to lower his defenses even more. In this case, it was hard to know who was playing whom. “You come out here a lot with Boots?”

“No. My girlfriend, Lainey, is here. We’re doing a romantic thing for the night. I thought it would be a good idea. You know, the whole under-the-stars thing, but I’m not so sure she agrees. She might’ve ditched me and headed to a roadside motel.” He laughed and it sounded a little too forced. “You didn’t bump into her, did you? She’d die of embarrassment because she asked for privacy to take care of business. She’s a redhead and she’s wearing a white down coat, full length, with snow boots.”

Dex was giving too many details as he described her. Was he nervous? Lying? There was no reason to describe his girlfriend out here. If Rory saw a woman at this hour, it would have to be her.

“Maybe I’ll stick around until she gets back so I don’t catch her off guard,” Rory said, pretending to keep busy while waiting for a reaction.

Dex wore a red ball cap and kept his face angled toward the dog, making it difficult to make out his features, even though he was near the fire. “As long as you return the way you came, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Good point.” Rory figured the more Dex believed he agreed the better. “How long are you two planning to stick around?”

Again, he listened for a slipup.

“Just the night,” Dex said.

“Ah, here it is,” Rory bent down and picked up something from the ground. He bit out a curse. “Never mind. It’s a flattened soda can.”

“Bad luck,” Dex said.

“Always,” Rory quipped, trying to make the guy think he was being buddy-buddy. Comradery could go a long way toward lowering Dex’s defenses and getting to the truth. Why was he camping on Butler land? Rory didn’t believe for one second that it was for love. This guy was here for a reason... But what?

“I better head out before your girlfriend gets back. Wouldn’t want to ruin the mood.” Although, if she was really on a bathroom break, Rory couldn’t imagine that was possible. But stick around much longer and Dex would become suspicious. As it was, the guy was being cautious. The campsite. The nonexistent girlfriend. The innocent camper act.

Everything was off about this situation.

“Catch you around.” Rory turned and caught sight of the glint of metal in Dex’s hand against the glow of the fire.

A weapon?

He decided to stick around another minute.

* * *

CADENCE BUTLER CLOSED the door to her bedroom. She was home, only it didn’t feel like it since her father’s murder. The place would never be the same without him. She put a hand on her growing belly as a wave of sadness crashed down around her, threatening to chew her up, toss her around and then spit her out into the surf.

Other than one quick stop over the summer, which netted an unfortunate incident with the law, she hadn’t been home for good reason. Trying to scare her half sister, Madelyn, out of town had been a childish lapse in judgment. Those were racking up.

How she’d concealed her pregnancy for so long was a mystery. At six months pregnant, she was surprisingly big. Or at least she’d thought so. Her doctor had reassured her that it was perfectly normal for a woman carrying twins to show as early as she had.

Another wave of melancholy hit as she thought about the babies who would never get the chance to know their grandfather.

“I can’t wait to see you running around on this land someday. Just like I used to when I was a little girl,” she whispered, resting her hand on her growing baby bump.

It was late and she was grateful to have slipped inside the house without seeing anyone, without any drama. Come morning, there’d be a million questions and she still didn’t know what to say about the pregnancy. Her fling with Rory had been kept secret. He’d wanted to tell her brothers but she’d convinced him not to say anything.

There was a practical reason for her coming home that didn’t include the big reveal of a pregnancy with twins. She thought about the poachers encroaching on the land, taking advantage of the distractions following her father’s murder. Her blood heated thinking about the kind of person who would try to capitalize on a tragedy.

Running Hereford Ranch had its challenges. Ones her father had made look so easy. But then people had known better than to mess with the ranch while her father was alive. Poachers must see the new regime, including her, as weak or they wouldn’t be encroaching. They were about to be taught a valuable lesson, she thought. Her thoughts shifted to the best tracker in the country, Rory Scott. Rory was in Wyoming tracking other poachers. He’d broken her heart when he ended their fling and walked out five months ago. Thinking about it, about him, stressed her out.

A warm bath would do wonders toward relaxing her tension knots. Strain wasn’t good for the babies. Neither was sadness and that was part of the reason she’d stayed away from the ranch. Being here without her father...

Cadence couldn’t go there.

She slipped inside her room, grateful there hadn’t been a big deal made over her return. No one would bother her until morning and that would give her time to think up an excuse as to why she was coming home six-months pregnant with Rory Scott’s twins.

Thankfully, her bathroom was adjacent to her room. Access was restricted. She didn’t want to deal with her brothers and sister tonight. She wanted to get her bearings first. Being home, facing the ranch, brought back so many memories. Good memories that made her wish she’d had more time with her father. She gulped for air.

The father she rarely understood but always loved was never coming back.

Her heart clutched. Moving past her window, a chill raced up her spine and she got a creepy feeling. It was most likely her imagination. Or...

Was someone out there watching?

Chapter Two

“I’ll be on my way before your lady friend returns. Wouldn’t want to ruin the moment.” Rory could see the tension building in Dex—or whatever his name was—and it was time to make his exit before this situation escalated. The glint he’d seen was most definitely from a weapon and that shot all kinds of warning flares.

Watching the campsite would be tricky with the beagle, but Rory figured he could put enough distance between them to keep off the dog’s radar.

When Rory really thought about it, using a dog was smart. Dex’s cover was perfect. Not many people would notice the subtle things, like the fact that the guy might be playing dumb when it came to nature, but he seemed to know enough to tie up his trash away from the site. Or that after spending a good fifteen minutes snooping around, the guy’s so-called girlfriend hadn’t returned. There was no alcohol on the site, either. Wouldn’t that be part of a romantic camping trip for two people of drinking age? There didn’t look to be any food supplies, either, which struck him as odd for someone planning to spend the night.

Was he a poacher?

Rory didn’t see any of the usual supplies, consisting of water and weapons. This guy could be a scout, sending information back. This campsite was close enough to the Butler ranch that Dex might be there to watch out for ranch hands.

“Much appreciated. Camille is already skittish out here,” Dex said with a wink, seemingly unaware of his mistake. Rory immediately noticed the name change. He’d called his girlfriend Lainey five minutes ago. Suddenly, her name was Camille.

Rory concealed the fact that he was scrutinizing Dex’s features. The man would be fantastic at poker. For the most part, Dex kept his cards close to his chest.

“Thanks for letting me take a look around your camp.” Rory offered a handshake, needing to wrap this up. He’d seen enough to know that Dex required watching. He was involved in something illegal, but there was nothing to go on besides trespassing at present. Keeping an eye on the man might lead Rory to the real source, which could be poachers. Another thought struck and that was Dex could be a reporter. Although the headlines involving the Butlers had died down a bit recently, with the will reading coming up, there’d been renewed interest in everything Butler.

“No problem.” Dex stood and took the offering. The minute their palms grazed, Rory realized how nervous the guy had been. His hand had just enough moisture to reveal his emotions. Rory had to hand it to Dex, he came off as cool as a cucumber and that fact sent a few more warning flares up.

Rory walked away, careful to make sure he disappeared in the same direction he’d arrived. He could almost feel the set of eyes on his back as he walked farther from the campsite and listened carefully for any sounds that Dex might be following. He’d probably stuck around a little too long. The handshake could have been overkill. Damn.

His mistakes could lead to suspicion.

Forty-five minutes had passed since Rory recovered his previous spot, watching the campsite from afar. There’d been no movement. No Lainey, or Camille...or whatever her name was.

Rory had known that for the lie it was.

Dex tied Boots to a tree trunk. With the fire still blazing, he grabbed a walking-type stick and headed north, the opposite direction of the Butler estate.

What was he up to now?

Rory watched intently, using his night-vision goggles. He checked the time. Where did Dex think he was going at this hour?

The only evidence Rory had against the man so far was trespassing. Not exactly a strong case to entice the sheriff’s office to send a deputy out immediately. The office would most likely take the complaint and promise to investigate. Sheriff Sawmill and his deputies were still too overrun to follow up on every lead unless Rory could present compelling evidence that this was more. It was hard to believe the sheriff still hadn’t arrested Maverick Mike Butler’s murderer.

A pang of guilt hit him like stray voltage. He’d wanted to stick around after learning that Mr. Butler had been murdered. He could only imagine the devastation the family felt and especially Cadence.

There were a few too many times in the past five months that he’d wanted to return and be her comfort. The news coverage on Cattle Barge had almost been 24/7. He’d seen the story of her arrest and then release after she tried to run off someone claiming to be her half sister. He could only imagine what Cadence had been going through to cause a lapse in judgment like that.

Walking out five months ago had been his attempt to protect her. A relationship with Rory was the worst of bad ideas. He needed to be outside somewhere. Anywhere. And she needed a comfortable bed with soft sheets. Soft like her skin had been when he grazed his finger along the inside of her thigh.

Damn.

Thinking about Cadence brought on a surge of hormones and a wave of inappropriate desire. Hell, at least he wasn’t dead. Since walking away from her, not many women could stack up to the memory of her silky skin and sweet laugh. She was beautiful and sexy, but that wasn’t the best part. She was smart, and funny, and outgoing, and...

His heart clutched, squeezing a little harder this time, reminding him what a bad idea it was to think about Cadence Butler.

Being on her family’s land would bring back a certain amount of memories, he reasoned, but the onslaught of reasons why he missed her caught him off guard.

Chalk it up to weakness. Being with her had made him weak and almost forget about their differences—differences that would drive them to squabble and make each other miserable given enough time. He thought about his parents’ marriage and how toxic their love had been.

Rory checked his watch again. Twenty minutes had passed while he’d been distracted by his reverie. He couldn’t let that happen again.

Besides, there was no sign of Dex. He waited another full thirty minutes before making a decision on his next move. It was still too early to call the sheriff.

Patience won battles.

So, he’d hold off.

Rory waited a full hour before deciding to move closer. The dog was still secured. None of the obvious supplies had been taken. The guy’s expensive-looking backpack was still leaning against his compact fold-out chair. Every sign pointed to Dex coming back.

Was he out scouting so he could relay information to his boss?

Or had he abandoned the site?

Another ten minutes wired Rory’s nervous system for the unexpected. An adrenaline spike got his pulse racing and blood speeding through his veins. All his internal systems spiked to critical mass. And, like always in these situations, he felt his senses alighting, awakening. He felt alive.

He listened for any sounds that Dex was circling him, coming up from behind for a sneak attack or studying him in order to make a move. It was possible. Hell, anything was possible out here. But Dex wouldn’t get the best of Rory. Rory was damn good at his job, considered the best tracker in the country.

If Dex tried to pull something, Rory would be ready and waiting.

Reaching down to his ankle holster, he pulled his Walther 9 mm and palmed it. He rested his thumb on the safety mechanism, just in case he needed to fire.

Normally, all this action and adrenaline would have boosted his mood, made him happy. Instead, a sense of dread overwhelmed him along with the energy burst. What was that all about, Scott?

Cadence, an irritating little voice said. Being here on her father’s land. It would belong to her and her siblings now. Plus, the two surprise family members who’d shown up after Maverick Mike’s death. Rory wasn’t sure how either of them played into the equation but all looked to have been smoothed out based on media reports.

It’s none of your business, that same little voice reminded, even though a little piece of his heart protested that everything about Cadence was.

Again, it proved nothing more than the fact that he was alive. And it was good to know that he still had a beating heart in his chest. He knew because it fisted every time he thought about her. Having a working heart might come in handy someday, he mused.

Although, all it had done so far was make him feel weak and angry. He thought about his family and about leaving them to run away from home at fifteen years old because he couldn’t watch his parents participate in their mutual misery anymore. He’d begged his mother to leave the abuse behind, to go with him, and still couldn’t understand why she’d told him to mind his own business before willingly staying with his father. The man’s bouts of jealousy and anger became almost daily shows by Rory’s teenage years. She’d scream and cry in the moment, threaten to leave him. Everything always escalated from there.

By the next day, always, she’d defend the man, saying that he got angry because he loved her.

A sudden burst of cold air brought his focus back to the camp twenty-five yards in front of him.

There were other possibilities for why Dex was in this part of the county, possibilities that heeded consideration. Thinking of his parents always reminded him of domestic violence. Dex could be a hothead or a common criminal in the wrong spot at the wrong time. He might’ve brought a girlfriend here, killed her and dug her grave. She might’ve already been dead and he dragged her limp body into a shallow grave.

Icy tendrils wrapped around Rory’s spine at the same time that anger spiked through him.

Facing the unexpected usually kept him on his toes, reminded him he was alive. This time was surprisingly different. It lacked the excitement that normally accompanied an adrenaline rush of this scale.

Since there hadn’t been activity at Dex’s camp, Rory decided to go in and see if he could gather more intel. Boots was asleep and there was a chance he wouldn’t bark since he’d already met Rory. The winds had picked up and the howling would mask any noise the little dog made.

What else could he use to distract the dog? Considering he didn’t own a pet, nor had he ever, he didn’t exactly carry around dog biscuits. Rory would have to have been willing to commit to one spot for a while in order to have his own dog. But he did have something. He could break off a small piece of a peanut-butter power bar and give it to Boots.

Dex not returning was starting to weigh on Rory. Why would the man leave the camp without taking his backpack and his pet?

Investigating could be tricky and could compromise Rory’s position. What if Dex returned? What if the animal barked? Rory could be caught or shot.

Did he have another cover story? There was no good sell for being out there alone and checking out the campsite for the second time.

What if the dog didn’t bark? Could Rory slip in and out without leaving a trace while Boots slept? All he’d need would be a few minutes and he was confident he could get answers.

He had to consider all possibilities.

Rory crouched low and eased across ten yards of terrain without making a sound. The howling wind played to his benefit because he could come in at an angle so the dog wouldn’t easily pick up his scent. Of course, the wind chill was cutting right through his hunting jacket, which he wore in order to give off the impression he was passing through on a hunting trip. It was prime deer hunting season and that would play to his advantage. Of course, most recreational deer hunters were already locked down in a bunk on their deer lease.

Stealthily, he moved along the perimeter of the campsite.

This time, he looked for any signs that a heavy object, such as a body, had been dragged out. But then, if Dex was a murderer—and that was a big if—he might’ve already done away with the remains. The campsite could be part of his cover—girlfriend stormed off just before midnight after an intense fight. She doesn’t return. Body is never found. With all the animals out searching for a meal, her remains could be scattered across the land.

It wouldn’t be the first time such a tragedy had occurred. Rory had come up against similar situations and worse in his ten years as a tracker. And even though his work brought him face-to-face with everything from hardened criminals looking to hide—and willing to kill whomever stood in the way of freedom—to profiteers seeking to make a quick buck on the black market, a trade that was unfortunately thriving, to traffickers—human and animal—he’d always brought them to justice.

In his life, no two days were the same and the variety kept his blood pumping. Most of his meals were cooked and eaten out in the open. There was something about food heated over an open fire that made it taste so much better than anything he’d ever tasted from an oven.

He could admit that life on the fringe had lost some of its appeal recently and that probably had to do with the beating heart in his chest, making him think about things he knew better than to want or expect, like a real home.

This life was uncomplicated. He didn’t spend his time glued to an electronic device like people in town. He didn’t answer to anyone or have to spend time with anyone he didn’t want to see, which also sounded lonely when he put it like that.

Taking in a slow breath, he inched forward.

Out on the range, a person’s mind could wander into dangerous territory if he wasn’t careful. Being alone with his thoughts for long periods used to clear his mind but not lately.

Inevitably, his thoughts would wander to Cadence. Conversations with her had always been enjoyable and especially with her spunk. Her smile was quick and genuine.

His heart acknowledged that she was dangerous and he knew deep down she could do a whole lot better in life than be dragged down by the likes of a man like him. He might’ve walked away first but she would’ve eventually. She would’ve figured out they were no good for each other. And his heart might not have recovered. For the hundredth time in the past five months, he reminded himself this was the only choice and that he’d done her a favor.

He’d catch the poacher who was running the show—if that man wasn’t Dex—which would shut down the heart of the operation. And then get back to Wyoming, where he’d taken personal leave. He was needed on the SJ Ranch as soon as he tied up this loose end. If he was going to show his hand, he’d admit that the possibility of seeing Cadence again caused all kinds of uncomfortable feelings to surface.

For now, he’d deal with what was right in front of him, the camp. He’d managed to inch close enough to see that there was no cooler. Was Dex gone?

Rory palmed the makeshift dog treat. Improvising was the name of the game out in the wild, where he’d learned to make do with what was on hand.

Boots opened his eyes and lifted his head as Rory dropped down next to him. Rory was no dog whisperer but he knew his way around animals. Another survival tactic. One he enjoyed.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Boots.” He held out the broken pieces of power bar on his flat palm as he surveyed the area. Dex could show up any minute.

And then his gaze landed on the object that Dex had been hiding...a rifle with a scope pointing south, the direction of the Butler home.

Hold on. From this vantage point on the land, could he see as far as the estate? It would depend on the power of the scope.

Rory emptied his hand of the treats, dropping them next to the dog’s mouth. Boots wagged his tail as he happily went to town on the bits.

Rory pulled his night goggles down from his forehead and secured them over his eyes. Another quick scan of the area and everything looked copacetic. Of course, the goggles only allowed him to see fifteen feet around. Pitch-blackness circled the camp like a heavy fog.

He gave another pass to the area in order to make sure he and Boots were alone.

Dropping down to check the angle of the scope, he removed his goggles.

A curse rolled up and out.

Dex had a perfect angle.

The rifle was aimed at the Butler estate all right.

Rory would recognize that bedroom window anywhere.

It belonged to Cadence Butler.

Chapter Three

Rory backed away, making sure he didn’t damage any of the fingerprints on the rifle or scope, and then he called the sheriff.

“There’s a situation on the Butler property you need to be aware of,” he said to Sheriff Sawmill. Rory could almost see the frustration that accompanied the heavy sigh coming through the line. “I can give you my GPS coordinates.”

“Mind sending a few photos of the site?” Sawmill asked.

“Not if it’ll help,” Rory said. He didn’t mind taking a few risks if it meant helping Sawmill figure out who Dex really was.

“I don’t have anyone near your location. I’ll get a deputy out before morning,” he promised.

“Thanks, Sheriff.” There was no use pressuring him. Rory could tell by the man’s tone that he wished he could do more but didn’t have the resources. He also knew how overstretched the sheriff’s office had been since the murder. Pressure mounted to find Mr. Butler’s killer as time went on and that had to be weighing on the sheriff’s mind.

After snapping pictures from multiple angles and then watching over the site for another half hour, Rory assumed Dex wasn’t coming back. The most likely scenario was that Rory had scared Dex away and he wouldn’t return. The man had taken off in a hurry after Rory had invaded the camp and the probability there’d be fingerprints on the weapon were slim to none.

The fire had burned out. Since Rory couldn’t rightly leave the little dog to freeze, he took the shivering beagle into his arms and placed him inside his jacket so he would stop shaking.

Dex would know someone had been there if he returned before the sheriff’s deputy arrived. Rory highly doubted the guy was coming back, though, based on experience.

Game on, Rory thought as he tracked east. He’d circle around to his conversion vehicle and take the beagle, which couldn’t be more than a year old, with no tags, with him to the Butler ranch. If Dex thought he could outsmart him, he needed to think again. No one was better out on the range than Rory and he had no doubt that he could track Dex and see to it that the guy spent the rest of his life behind bars.

Cadence was home. Rory wasn’t supposed to know that. No one was. However, he couldn’t help himself and had tracked her whereabouts. She’d left Colorado that evening and would’ve arrived an hour or two ago. He needed to warn her and her family that she could be in danger.

A dark thought hit. Had Dex already made his way to the main house?

That thought had Rory picking up the pace. In a full-out run, Rory made it back to his vehicle in record time. He secured the beagle in the front seat and took the driver’s seat before heading southwest toward the main house. From his current location, it would take an hour to wind around on the country roads to get to the place. He knew a shortcut that involved going off road but could possibly get a lot of attention from security.

Rory spun the wheel left. He needed to get to the house as fast as possible. It was possible that Dex had moved closer to get a good shot. Damn. The man might’ve left his rifle behind but he was still carrying a handgun.

It was also worth considering that he was an amateur and had abandoned his plan altogether.

Rory managed to locate his phone while driving and used Bluetooth technology to make the call to Cadence.

The recording said the number was no longer in service.

When did she change her number? She’d had the same one since high school.

Then he thought about everything that had happened to the family in the past few months after Maverick Mike Butler’s death. With all the media scrutiny, it made sense that she would make it more difficult to reach her. He hoped it had to do with the media and not their breakup. It shouldn’t bother him that she’d changed her number. It wasn’t really his business anymore no matter how much his heart argued.

Okay. Plan B.

He pulled over and checked his call log. Dade had been the one to reach out, so his new number must be on the log. Rory called that number. He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the call rolled into a generic-sounding voice mail and frustration nipped at him.

Instead, he tapped the gas pedal harder and raced toward the house, hoping like hell that he wasn’t too late.

Someone in the Butler household knew there’d been a security breach because Terrell Landry stood with his rifle shouldered and aimed at the conversion vehicle speeding toward the back side of the estate. Based on his disposition, his finger hovered over the trigger mechanism. A team of six formed a semicircle around Terrell twenty yards in front of where Rory stopped the conversion vehicle and put his hands where everyone could see them as he exited his vehicle. He’d be no use to Cadence or anyone else if he got himself shot on the property and he wouldn’t risk one of the men he didn’t know getting too excited with his trigger finger.

“Rory Scott?” Terrell said, more statement than question.

“In the flesh,” Rory answered. “Permission to approach?”

Terrell’s next words allowed Rory to exhale.

“Of course. Stand down,” Terrell told his men, lowering his own weapon. “But what are you doing here? I was told that you refused the job.”

“Misunderstanding,” Rory said as he walked to the head of security, planning to meet him halfway. He’d known Terrell for half of his life.

“Good to see you,” Terrell said, sticking out his hand between them.

Rory shook it as the others flanked them. And then a few seconds later he found himself flipped on his backside, heaving for air after being slammed into the cold hard pavement with the wind knocked out of him.

“What the hell, Landry?” he managed to get out through gulps of air. His lungs burned.

“I’m sorry, Rory. I have orders,” Terrell said. “I’ve been instructed to contain you and call the sheriff in order to file a trespassing complaint.”

“The Butlers offered me a job. Who would give you orders to have me arrested?” Rory ground out.

“I got the order directly from Cadence Butler.” He shot another apologetic look. “She called it in yesterday.”

She had to know that Rory would have been asked to help. Yes, he’d walked out on a relationship with her but this was over the top. Even for Cadence.

Twenty minutes later, Rory stood in the foyer of the Butler home with his hands in zip cuffs and Boots at his side.

Dade came rushing toward him as Boots sat next to Rory’s shoes. “I’m sorry, Rory. I don’t know how this order slipped past the rest of us and ended up being issued. It should never have happened.” He glanced toward his head of security and then the zip cuffs. “Take those ridiculous things off.”

Rory’s anger almost overshadowed the real reason he’d shown up to begin with as Terrell removed the bindings. He rubbed sore wrists. “I caught a guy on your property with a scope on Cadence’s room.”

Dalton entered the foyer, stress cracks around his eyes and mouth. He looked exhausted and Rory didn’t like being the one to deliver more bad news. “Where?”

“Due north from the main house,” Rory supplied. “Is she here?”

“Haven’t seen her yet but she was due in last night,” Dade supplied after shaking his friend’s hand. Dade was wearing jeans without a shirt or shoes. He’d obviously been roused from sleep. “I’m sorry again for the misunderstanding.” He motioned toward Rory’s wrists.

This was no miscommunication, but he wasn’t angry at Dade or Dalton for it.

“You want me to take care of this guy?” Landry asked, motioning toward Boots.

“He belong to you?” Dade asked.

“Does now.”

“All right if Landry takes care of him while we talk?” Dade nodded toward the beagle.

“Fine by me. Cadence needs to know how much danger she’s in.” She wasn’t stupid and if she realized how close she was to being shot, she’d take the right precautions. Rory didn’t even want to think about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t been there. Was he still frustrated with her for the stunt? Hell, yes.

But he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

It was probably guilt for walking out on her that had him wanting to protect her and not residual feelings. Rory didn’t do those with anyone no matter how much his heart wanted to argue at thinking about seeing her again.

“I need to talk to Cadence,” Rory said as Landry picked up Boots and then disappeared.

Dade stepped aside, allowing access to her hallway in the massive rustic-chic, log-cabin-style home. It looked more like a resort than private residence and he knew the layout well.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Ella Butler stepped into the hallway in front of Cadence’s room.

“Too bad,” Rory said. “She needs to.”

Ella was shaking her head and she looked rattled by the ordeal. “We understand what happened and will take it seriously. My sister has nothing else to say to you.”

“Like hell she doesn’t.” He started toward her room.

Ella stood there, arms folded over her chest. He would never do anything to hurt a woman so he flexed and released his fingers to keep them from reaching out to pick her up and move her.

“What’s going on?” Dade’s brow was hiked.

“Good question,” Rory added, focusing on Ella. “Your sister can have me arrested if I set foot on the property when I’ve been summoned, but I don’t get to warn of her the danger she’s in or ask why she’s so intent on not seeing me?”

“No, you don’t. Now, leave,” Cadence said from her room.

“This is none of our business, Ella,” Dade warned and Rory wondered if his friend knew about the fling. He doubted it, considering how determined Cadence had been to keep it under wraps.

Just when Rory thought Ella was going to dig her heels in and fight, her expression softened and she said, “You’re right. We should stay out of it. I’m sorry, Cadence. But he deserves to know.”

Cadence didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, Rory,” Ella said with a look as she, Dalton and Dade wished him good luck before disappearing down the hall.

Deserved to know what exactly? Rory questioned.

Rory tapped on Cadence’s door with his bare knuckles. He was the one who’d said there was no future for the two of them and then taken a job in Wyoming. When he really thought about it, she had every right to be upset with him. Not to trust him. Having him detained for being on Butler land was going too far but Cadence had a flair for the dramatic and she was probably still acting out of hurt—hurt that had been his fault.

“It’s important or I wouldn’t be here, Cadence. Open up,” he said.

“Go away.”

* * *

CADENCE STOOD ON the opposite side of the door, her heart thundering in her chest. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned telling Rory that he was going to be a father. She’d had every intention of telling him when the time was right but that time never came and she’d eventually decided to wait until after the babies were born.

There’d been so many times she’d wanted him to know but to what end? What did she want from him? Child support? Marriage? She almost laughed out loud at the thought of tying Rory down with commitment. He’d been all too clear that he wasn’t the type to stick around.

When he’d first walked out of her life, she thought that if she gave him enough time, he’d come back on his own. He’d realize that the two of them should be together.

As far as drinking the Kool-Aid went, she’d gone all-in with that fantasy.

He’d seemed content to stay away and her heart was still trying to heal from the snub.

So far, Ella was the only one who knew about the pregnancy and her sister had literally found out five minutes ago when she’d come in to check on Cadence.

“Stay away from your windows, Cadence. Someone was camping on your property and you’re being targeted.” Rory wasn’t trying to scare her. His voice was steady steel.

“Okay. Now I know,” she retorted, chiding herself for being so quick to dismiss him.

Several more taps came.

“I’m sorry about what happened between us.” His voice was low and gravelly. It was the same voice that had been so good at seducing her.

And the same that had told her the two of you didn’t have a future, a little voice reminded.

“Fine. I’ll take this seriously. Consider me warned. Now, you can leave.” He deserved to know he was a father but not like this. A cramp nearly doubled her over. She made it to her bed and sat down, gripping the mattress, trying not to make a noise.

She’d sent for a doctor four times in her first trimester, thinking the cramps were a bad sign that something was going terribly wrong. Turned out they were normal and especially common in a first pregnancy.

Before she could stop it, the doorknob twisted.

“No, Rory! Go!”

“I just wanted to tell you face-to-face—” His jaw fell slack the minute his gaze landed on her stomach.

Defensively, she brought her hands around her large belly to cover it.

Rory stood there, frozen, as though unable to speak.

A few seconds ticked by before he seemed to gather his thoughts well enough to say something.

“Do you mind telling me when you intended to share the news that you’re pregnant?” he finally asked, and there was so much betrayal in his voice.

She was pretty sure he was decent at math but also certain he had no idea how far along she was or the timing of a pregnancy. And part of her realized he had every right to be angry.

“I’d say it’s none of your business but that’s not exactly true since you’re the father,” she said, watching intently for his response.

A look of complete shock darkened his features as his gaze practically bore through her. His jaw clenched and released a few times, and it looked like he was grinding his molars. His stare became a dare when he said, “Then marry me.”

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