The arsonist got away once.

Now he’s back and ready to burn down everything.

Once ruined by his obsession to capture a fugitive, Marshal Ryder Garrett must now save his former fiancée—and her baby—from the same arsonist. Though their reunion makes him realize he never stopped loving Kara Noble, Ryder doubts she’ll give him a second chance. Before, his pursuit left him heartbroken. This time, it could get him, Kara and her daughter killed.

Garrett Valor

JULIE ANNE LINDSEY is a multigenre author who writes the stories that keep her up at night. She’s a self-proclaimed nerd with a penchant for words and proclivity for fun. Julie lives in rural Ohio with her husband and three small children. Today she hopes to make someone smile. One day she plans to change the world. Julie is a member of International Thriller Writers and Sisters in Crime. Learn more about Julie Anne Lindsey at julieannelindsey.com.

Also by Julie Anne Lindsey

Shadow Point Deputy

Federal Agent Under Fire

The Sheriff’s Secret

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Marked by the Marshal

Julie Anne Lindsey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09362-0

MARKED BY THE MARSHAL

© 2019 Julie Anne Lindsey

Published in Great Britain 2019

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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Dedicated to red wine and coffee.

I couldn’t do it without you.

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

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Kara tilted her face away from the scalding July sun. It was the hottest, driest summer on record in Shadow Point, Kentucky, and she was eternally grateful for the misty breeze blowing off the fountain at Memorial Park. Her sleeping infant, Casey, on the other hand, seemed utterly unaware that her mother was slowly melting in the afternoon heat. Casey was like that. Naturally content, perpetually at ease. Not at all like the other moms had warned Kara babies could be. Casey had slept through the night by eight weeks and continued to be as lovely and charming as ever at four months.

Kara wiped the back of one sweaty arm across her forehead. A year ago, she’d run three miles before dawn. These days she was lucky to power walk half that before dinner. The heat wasn’t helping. She parked the three-wheeled jogging stroller in a berth of shade from an ancient oak and checked her step counter for time and distance. Already 10:00 a.m., and she was a thousand steps shy of her goal. She’d have to make them up indoors. The temperature was rising, and Casey would soon be ready for lunch.

Kara inhaled the sweet scent of blooming flower beds and the busy vendor carts positioned throughout Memorial Park. She eased her backside onto the fountain’s wide marble edge and waited for her heart rate to fizzle back to a steady thrum before making the final trek to her car. She gulped the dregs of warm water from her bottle and let her eyes slide shut.

“Beautiful day.” A man’s voice sprung her lids open. The brim of his dark ball cap was pulled low over his forehead, casting shadows over his wide, deep-set eyes. His dark blue jeans and shirt clung to his bulky frame, likely applied there by a dewy coat of sweat. He clasped his hands behind him and peered into Casey’s stroller. “Pretty lady you’ve got there.”

“Thank you.” Kara set a protective hand on the stroller’s side. She concentrated on Casey’s sleeping face instead of keeping eye contact with the man, hoping he’d take the hint. Kara wasn’t interested in a conversation or anything else he had to offer. What she needed was to go home and take a shower. Maybe change into something that wasn’t soaked in sweat.

“She looks like you,” he marveled. “Is her daddy at work? He must be missing her fiercely.”

Kara’s gut clenched at the thought of Casey’s father. A man she’d thought was good and decent, one who’d claimed to love her until a small pink cross appeared on the pregnancy test. Suddenly, he wasn’t ready for a life with her. Certainly not prepared for fatherhood. He was sorry, but he just couldn’t do it, and how did this happen anyway?

Kara forced the hard rock of emotion down her throat. This had happened because she’d allowed herself to let him in, when she knew full well there was only one man in the world meant for her, and it wasn’t the man making excuses about commitment.

“No,” she answered with more bite than intended.

Casey’s father wasn’t at work, as far as she knew, and he wasn’t missing Casey at all, but that was his loss and Kara’s gain. Casey was a gift. Kara knew that now, but for months she’d thought the pregnancy was her punishment for naively letting another man into her life. She figured this was what happened when women were gullible and stupid. The idea, of course, was laughable now. Her pregnancy had been a blessing that changed the shape of her world, and for the first time since the real love of her life had left her, Kara was profoundly at peace.

Except for this guy, contentedly pursuing a conversation, despite the fact that she’d barely looked in his direction. “I’m sorry,” she said, looking pointedly at her wrist. “I really should get going. It’s time for her bottle, and I want to get her out of this heat.” She stood on tired noodle legs and set her hand firmly on the stroller handle. Kara leaned forward, but the carriage didn’t budge.

The man had moved his hand to the stroller’s opposite side, curling meaty fingers over the edge and effectively holding it in place. “Must you go so soon?” He hitched one side of his mouth into a sinister half smile.

“Yes.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “May I hold her before you go? Just for a moment?”

“No.” The word leapt off Kara’s tongue with venomous warning. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, stiffening her posture and renewing her strength. “Please remove your hand from my baby’s stroller,” she seethed. Her stance widened on instinct and her muscles tensed to fight. It was a new and semi-frightening sensation, but in that moment she was sure she could flatten this man if needed. If he attempted to lay a finger on her daughter, they’d soon find out if she was right.

He stared, unmoving.

“Now,” she ground out the word.

Slowly, his fingers pulled away from the stroller. He slid the offending hand into his pocket. The other hung limply at his side. The oily smile she longed to knock off his face had morphed into something like disappointment or distaste. A silver lighter appeared in his hand, pulled swiftly from his pocket. He flicked it to life and watched with the same menacing expression he’d just given her. The flame sputtered, then died with a closing snap of the lid. He tugged the brim of his hat and lifted his gaze back to Kara. “Watch yourself,” he warned. “I hear it’s going to be an inferno.”

With that, he strode away, angling deftly through throngs of parents and caregivers gathered at the little water park nearby. The musical sounds of children’s laughter sent a shiver down her spine. The contrast of their happiness to her own fear was unnerving. She watched raptly until he was out of sight, just in case he decided he’d like to hold one of those splashing children the way he’d wanted to hold Casey.

Kara’s lungs filled suddenly on a deep intake of air. “Time to go, baby doll.”

Casey squirmed at the sound of her mama’s voice. A small complaint fell from her tiny rosebud lips. Eyes still pinched shut, she flailed her arms before going limp once more. Someone was due for a feeding.

Kara whirled the stroller away from the fountain, thankful to have left her car parked in the opposite direction from the water park where the man was last seen. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon. In fact, the way her skin was crawling right now, never returning to Memorial Park would be fine by her. Matter of fact, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if that guy harassed anyone else today because she hadn’t spoken up. Heaven forbid he lay a hand on any child. The minute they were safely locked inside her car, Kara would call the local sheriff and file a report.

* * *

US MARSHAL RYDER GARRETT listened with slow burning fury as his brother West, the Cade County sheriff, relayed a report made by Kara Noble about a strange man at Memorial Park. The fact that someone had upset Ryder’s former fiancée was enough to tighten his jaw. The fact that her description of the man in question matched fugitive Timothy Sand had Ryder packing his bags. Even the remote possibility that Sand was anywhere near Kara was enough to send Ryder back to Shadow Point. He hadn’t been home in three years, but he was already making plans to obliterate the speed limit on his way.

“She said that?” Ryder asked for the third time, shoving clothes haphazardly into a duffel. “She told you the man said it was going to be an inferno?”

“Yep,” West answered. “I remember you saying something like that once when you still lived in town. Your fugitive liked to say it. Any chance he’s free again?”

Ryder recognized the leaden weight of failure cooling on his shoulders. “Yes.” The word was a knife to his chest. Sand was never put away for what he’d done, and now Kara was in danger because of it.

“I didn’t mention it to her,” West said. “Didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was, but I figured it was worth a phone call to see what you thought.”

“To see what I thought?” Ryder snapped. “I think a damn fugitive threatened my—” He stopped short. His what? She was nothing to him anymore, and he’d allowed it to be that way. Caused it to be. “Kara.”

“All right. So, what happened with Sand? I thought he was arrested.”

“He was. Another marshal took over my cases while I relocated a family for witness protection. He caught Sand on a lark. A call to the tip line actually paid off, but the marshal was new and overzealous. He didn’t have the right evidence to make his case, and Sand’s weasel of a lawyer got the whole thing whittled down to parole and time served.” Ryder had been sick when he came back to town and heard they’d had Sand and didn’t lock him up. He couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Ryder got busy preparing a watertight case against Sand for the murder of Sand’s first wife. The crime that started it all. He was darn close to having everything he needed to make sure Sand never saw sunlight. Then Sand’s parole had ended, the ankle bracelet had come off and Sand had gone MIA. Until now. “I won’t let him get away this time,” Ryder promised.

“Well, let’s hope that’s true. Meanwhile, I can’t ignore the possibility there’s a murdering arsonist in my county. I put Cole on patrol in Kara’s neighborhood and added a deputy to Memorial Park. What are you going to do?”

A low swear slid off Ryder’s tongue. He gave his forehead a rough scrub. Kara had unequivocally expelled him from her life. She’d packed his bags and set them on the porch with a note telling him he had to go. Her heart couldn’t take watching him waste away any longer in pursuit of one fugitive. It wasn’t worth it to her. Was it worth it to him?

Sadly, yes. It had been. Putting Sand behind bars had become symbolic of Ryder’s ability to be a marshal, to protect his family, fiancée and anyone else in his charge. He’d bound his self-worth to the apprehension of this man, and he couldn’t catch him.

Ryder yanked the zipper on his duffel and slung it over one shoulder. Now he had to go back and protect Kara from a danger he’d inadvertently caused her. West wanted to know what he was going to do? There was only one answer. “I’m coming home, brother.”

“Good,” West agreed. “For what it’s worth, and at the risk of sounding like Mom, it’s long past time for the two of you to talk. I hate that Sand is the reason you finally will, but I’m glad anyway. Kara will be, too.”

Ryder barked a humorless laugh. Yeah. Kara would be thrilled to see him. He’d stewed in his losses every day, but she’d gone on to find love with someone else, apparently. “Did you say she has a baby?”

West didn’t respond. They both knew that was exactly what he’d said.

Did he have to protect the new man in her life as well? His gut fisted at the thought. “How old’s the kid?”

“Only a few months. A girl.”

Ryder let his eyes drift shut, momentarily frozen in remorse. “She’s married, then?”

“Nope. Rumor is that the guy left her when he found out about the pregnancy. That was just over a year ago. Only guy she’s dated since you, I believe, assuming the gossip mill’s still working fine.”

Ryder clenched his teeth. “Best oiled machine in town.”

Now there were two men in Shadow Point he wanted to get his hands on. “What kind of jerk does something like that to a woman? To his child?”

“Not one worth having around,” West said. “She’s better off without him.”

Folks had probably said the same thing after she’d kicked Ryder out. They wouldn’t have been wrong then, either.

He grabbed his key, badge and sidearm, then headed into the sunset. There’d be plenty of time to fixate on all the ways he’d ruined his life during the three-hour drive back to Shadow Point. Right now, he needed to get moving.

* * *

IT WAS AFTER ten when Kara put on her second pot of coffee. It had been twelve hours since her hasty exit from Memorial Park with Casey, and Kara’s nerves were still in bundles. Casey, on the other hand, was sound asleep in the nursery. Kara was glad for her, but personally, she couldn’t shake the sensation she was being watched.

She’d locked all the doors and shut the windows the moment they’d gotten home. She’d even pulled the curtains in an effort to stop the heebie-jeebies crawling over her skin. Nothing had worked. On any other night, she’d have poured a glass of sweet tea and sat on the porch swing to unwind from her troubles. Tonight, she was a prisoner in her home. A very hot home.

The central air was set to seventy-seven, the lowest she could afford to keep it on her public teacher’s salary, and she was dressed accordingly. A worn-out pair of cotton shorts and a pre-pregnancy tank top. The perfect pajamas for nights like these. Though hers were being tested at every seam by the added pounds of stubborn baby weight, she wouldn’t complain. Those pounds were hard earned and well worth the prize.

Kara poured a cup of fresh coffee and sank onto a kitchen chair. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. If things had turned out the way she’d planned, she wouldn’t be shaking the willies right now over some man in the park. She’d be sharing a late-night snack with Ryder Garrett, and laughing as he told her all the ways he could keep that man from ever looking her way again. And he’d mean it. Kara smiled against the rim of her cup. She’d never been afraid of anything when Ryder was in her life.

Let it go, she chastised herself. You shouldn’t want him. Ryder had chosen a life of compulsion, danger and near madness over her. Based on that alone, she shouldn’t love him anymore, but all these years later she still couldn’t go twenty-four hours without thinking of him. Ridiculous. Especially since he’d left town and never looked back.

The sound of a car door drew Kara’s attention back to the moment, and she was irrationally glad to have something else to think about. Even the possibility of an unwanted guest. Kara padded across the living room carpet for a peek between the curtains. There was no movement on the street or in her driveway. Whoever had arrived or gone in the car had already done so, and the neighborhood had settled back into the hazy calm of a sweltering summer night. She checked the door and window locks again for good measure, moving methodically around the first floor, then up to the second.

It was nothing. Just a neighbor coming or going. No reason to overthink this.

The tug of sleep pulled at her muscles and eyelids as she tested the final window. She rubbed the fine hairs on her forearms, smoothing them where they stood at attention, sent on alert by the goose bumps covering her skin. She’d reported her weird exchange at the park to the local sheriff, a man who had nearly become her brother-in-law once. What more could she do? Thankfully, he hadn’t judged her for her paranoia. Instead, he’d promised to look into it and to add a night patrol to her street. She really couldn’t ask for more, especially considering nothing had actually happened. Kara had dealt with pushy men all her life, ones who leered at her and said crude things. She imagined all women had, but it was the first time she’d been confronted so blatantly with her baby present. Maybe that was what had upset her so much. The idea her baby was there. That he’d wanted to touch her. Is her daddy at work? Was that his creepy way of asking if Kara was involved with anyone since her ring finger was bare?

Kara moved to Casey’s room for another look at her sweet princess. She needed a nice vision to replace the man’s face burned into her mind. He’d had a slightly crazed expression like the one Ryder had worn at his worst, during the sleepless weeks of obsession over a fugitive named Timothy Sand. Ryder was barely human in those days, distant and monosyllabic. Like an addict or a man coming slowly unhinged. If only. Had either of those things been the problem, she could’ve gotten him help, sheltered him through the storm, but Ryder’s problems were of his choosing, and no one could’ve put him on another path, not even her.

Kara stopped the still-turning mobile that dangled high above Casey’s slack face. Baby drool edged from her droopy bottom lip, perhaps a sign of a first tooth on its way. One sweet dimpled arm lay across the stuffed dolly that had once belonged to Kara. Kara had gotten Rainy Rosie and her little yellow raincoat in an Easter basket during fourth grade and kept her in a memory box for years before Casey was born. Now, Rosie was gnawed on endlessly by her precious daughter. Kara suppressed a chuckle and slid back into the hallway, tugging the door nearly closed behind her.

The trip back downstairs seemed endless, like a dream hallway that grew longer with every step. Maybe tonight was a good night to sleep in the nursery. She’d fallen asleep in the glider many times before. She could bring a glass of water and a book. Let sleep take her at will.

Kara flipped the light switches and tugged the lamp chains one by one as she shut the house down for the night. Coffeepot off. She poured a glass of water and tucked a worn paperback under one bent arm, then grabbed the baby monitor from the counter. She liked her plan more and more by the second. Locked inside the nursery, she and Casey would be together, and they would be safe. Tomorrow was a new day, and tonight’s fears would likely seem as silly as they really were.

She checked the door lock once more and peeked through the front window for the last time. Breath caught in her throat as a tiny movement registered across the street. The glass of water jostled in her trembling hand. Kara shut her eyes and whispered, “It’s nothing, there’s nothing there, it’s okay, you’re okay.” She reopened her lids and gave the darkened street another cautious look.

Slowly, the shadow of a man peeled away from a broad oak tree and started a path in her direction.

Chapter Two

Kara’s pulse pounded in her ears. She pressed a hand to her constricting chest and willed herself to think. The man at the park had been big. He’d had at least fifty pounds on her, and she was out of shape. If he managed to get through the door, no one would see. At least at the park there were a hundred witnesses. Here, alone in her darkened house... Every self-defense move she’d ever learned was gone. Vanished. She could only think of how to escape, keep Casey safe and get away if the man tried to force his way inside.

Heavy footfalls clomped up her porch steps, vibrating through her soul. Where was that extra patrolman West had promised her? West! Kara pulled the phone from her pocket and dialed the personal number he’d left with her earlier.

She prayed softly against the phone receiver as the knocking began.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. She pressed her back against the warm wooden door for strength and willed West to answer his darn phone.

The knocks behind her came lightly at first, cautiously, and grew steadily more insistent. Her interior lights were already off. Maybe whoever was on her porch would assume no one was home and go away. The nagging possibility she was being paranoid began to creep in. She hadn’t gotten a clean look at the man crossing her street. It could be anyone. Maybe she was overreacting. Then again, whoever was out there at this hour was probably up to no good. Man from the park, or someone else. Didn’t matter. It was far too late for visiting. Besides, who could it even be? No man had climbed her steps in a year. Figurative or otherwise.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. The call connected and Kara gasped. Tears of relief blurred her vision.

“Garrett,” West answered, a bubble of laughter in his voice. Country music mingled with sounds of a crowd in the background.

“West?” she whispered, cupping her hands protectively around the phone. Not wanting to be heard by the man outside her door. “There’s someone on my porch and I’m freaking out.”

The background sounds grew silent. “Kara?” West’s voice was sharp now, followed by the distinct snick of a closing door. “What’s going on?”

She swallowed a yelp as the knocking grew into pounding against her spine. “Someone’s here.” The quiver troubling her limbs infiltrated her voice.

Kara swung her attention to the stairwell. She could be upstairs in twenty seconds, and at the backdoor with Casey in thirty more. Could the man on her porch break down the door in less time than that? What if he predicted her move and was at the back door when she got there?

“Sit tight,” West said with utter Garrett-like confidence. “I’m sending someone to you. Give me five minutes to route him your way.”

“Okay.” Her darting gaze landed on the hearth. “I might hit him with a fireplace poker.”

“Tell you what. Anyone comes through that door without an invitation, and you’ve got my support in doing whatever you want to him,” he huffed. “He’s not responding.”

“Your deputy?” Kara squeaked. Could the man on her porch have taken out the patrolling deputy?

The knocking stalled, and a new kind of fear clawed through her. At least while he was knocking, she knew where he was. A shadow fell over her front window and the silhouette of a man came into view. “Kara?”

The voice of a ghost permeated her glass. It twisted her core and squeezed her lungs. A strangled noise rose from her parted lips.

“Oh, my goodness.” Slowly, she moved away from the door, eyes wide, jaw heavy.

“What?” West barked.

“Kara? Open up,” the voice continued, more pleading than stern despite the sharp edge to his words.

She turned the deadbolt and opened the door with bated breath.

“Kara!” West hollered through the forgotten phone in her hand.

“It’s you,” she breathed.

Ryder Garrett, the ghost of love lost, stood before her in an arch of porch lighting. Hat in hands, he dipped his chin in greeting. “Hello, Kara.”

* * *

RYDER REACHED FOR her phone and spoke briefly to his brother in acronyms and grunts before returning the phone to Kara.

Kara batted dazed eyes at Ryder before inviting him into their formerly shared home. He accepted with a nod and tried not to wonder what her expression meant, exactly.

She worked her mouth closed, still openly staring at him.

He tried not to return the favor, which wasn’t easy. Kara was striking. He hadn’t blown her out of proportion in his mind. She really was the kind of woman who could walk down the street and cause a ten-truck pileup. Her pale blue eyes were lined in thick, curled lashes. Her cheeks and lips were naturally pink, though at the moment they were both slightly white from shock. He ached to kiss the line of freckles spilled over her nose. The ones she tried desperately to hide with makeup when they’d gone out for special occasions. He curled his fingers at his side, reminding himself not to touch her. He couldn’t do that anymore. It was a privilege he’d lost long ago.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, finally snapping back to life. She twisted the deadbolt and turned the lock on her doorknob before checking the window.

Did she really think any of that was necessary with him there?

He scanned the vaguely familiar room. Unlike Kara, the home was much different than he remembered. A giant mirror graced the wall above the fireplace where his massive mounted trout had once hung. Their engagement photos and candid snapshots had been replaced with selfies of Kara and an infant. He shook his head. The moment was surreal. It was his home, but it wasn’t. She was his girl, but she wasn’t. And the baby. Well, she hadn’t existed to him until three hours ago.

Kara cleared her throat. “Well?”

Ryder forced a comforting smile. “I heard you had a bad experience at the park today.” Ignore my poor manners for showing up at this hour, unannounced. He’d dialed her number a dozen times on his drive back to town, but couldn’t bring himself to hit Call. What would he have said? What if she’d told him not to come?

Her nose wrinkled. “West told you about the park? Why?”

“He was worried. Thought I might be, too.”

“Why?” she repeated. A flash of emotion passed over her stunned expression.

“Maybe you could tell me more about what happened today.” He inched toward the kitchen. “We can sit down. Go over the details.”

“Okay.” She ghosted in front of him. Flipping on lights and starting up the coffee maker. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

Kara kept her back to him as she prepped the mugs. Her head shook infinitesimally, and he was thankful not to know what she was thinking.

He didn’t mind the view, either. Being back in this place with her was a lot for him to process. He hadn’t anticipated the intensity of it. The sight of their old things. The sound of her grandma’s too-loudly-ticking wall clock, and the scents of that sugar-and-spice candle she loved so much. He smiled. In all the years they’d been together, Kara never let their—her—personal supply run out. One year for Christmas he’d bought her a case of those candles to be mischievous, but she’d been so pleased that they’d made love right there under the tree. His attention drifted to the exact spot, and heat rose in his chest.

The coffee maker chugged steam into the air, drawing his attention back to the kitchen.

Ryder blew out a long breath and refocused on Kara, but that didn’t help clean up his thoughts. And never mind the fact that Kara was wearing a tank top and shorts set that clung distractingly to her new, curvier...everything.

She spun on him suddenly. A frown creased her brow.

He jerked his gaze to her eyes. “What?” Caught ogling. Real nice. A true gentleman.

She shook her head again. “West told you that some creep harassed me this morning, and you what? Drove straight here from wherever you live now?”

He nodded slowly. “Cincinnati.” That almost summed it up. That and the fact that he believed her harasser to be a murdering psychopath, but there was no reason to say so until he was sure. For the moment, Ryder was enjoying this strange trip into his past. It was nice being there with her. Nostalgic.

Unfortunately, once Kara learned it was probably him who’d put her and her baby in danger, she’d want to coldcock him with that coffeepot.

She made her way to the table, two mugs in hand. The faint scent of cinnamon drifted in the bitter steam. He’d almost forgotten the way she added the spice to her grounds.

“Thanks.” He took a seat and waited while she did the same. “Can you tell me everything you told West about the man, plus anything you might’ve forgotten to mention, but thought of later?”

“Sure, but it’s probably nothing. I only called because the park was so busy, and I knew I’d never forgive myself if the guy tried to take one of those other children and I hadn’t spoken up.”

Ryder’s shoulders relaxed by a fraction. “You think he was a child abductor?” Timothy Sand was many awful things, but pedophile wasn’t one of them. Maybe he’d been wrong about this.

“I don’t know. He leered at me pretty good,” she said, looking fairly ill.

“What made you think the man might try to take a child? Did he try to take your baby?”

“No.” Kara sipped her coffee. “He asked if he could hold her, but I’d already told him we needed to leave. It was really weird. Then, he put his hand on the stroller for a minute when I tried to go, but he relented, and he never threatened us. I just had this feeling.” She fisted a hand against her gut. “You know?”

He did. Instinct had told her that man was dangerous, so he probably was. “Start from the beginning.”

She set her cup down and stared into it. Slowly, her lids slid shut, and she began to recount the exchange in unbelievable detail. A hat had hidden the man’s hair and shaded his eyes, but she was certain they were both brown. He was clean-shaven, and she’d noticed acne scars along his cheeks. There was a tattoo on his left wrist. A single black heart.

“Observant.” Pride bloomed in Ryder’s chest. They used to test one another about the little details around them. She’d enjoyed the game more than he did because despite his flashy badge, she’d usually won. She claimed being a kindergarten teacher made paying attention to the details especially necessary.

Kara opened her eyes and lanced him with her careful stare. “I’m glad you’re here, Ryder. You look good, and I’m glad to see you this way again.”

He didn’t have to ask what she meant by “this way again.” He knew. Healthy. Rested. Fed. The last time she’d seen him, he was a shell of himself, obsessed with the one that had literally gotten away. He didn’t eat or sleep in those days, and he was pretty light on the showers and speech. He’d spent every hour fixated on Timothy Sand and his capture. Ryder raised his mug and blew across the fog of steam. “Thanks. I took your advice. Got some help.”

Agency-mandated help, but still.

He’d lost control and laid a fist into the new kid who’d brought Sand in but failed to keep him in jail because of the flimsy case he’d prepared. Ryder had been temporarily relieved of his badge and sidearm after that. It was the lowest point of his career. The lowest point of his life had been two months earlier, when Kara told him to pull it together or leave.

The suspension eventually opened his eyes to how far he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. Mandatory sessions with an in-house therapist had helped him get his life back together. By that time, it was too late to come home to Kara. His mind was clear, and he finally understood how much he’d hurt her. She deserved better than that.

“You ever catch that guy?” she asked. “What was his name—Timothy Rand?”

“Sand,” Ryder corrected. “Timothy Sand. No. I never did.”

She twisted her mouth into a sad smile. As if to say, It was all for nothing, then. A broken engagement. Two broken hearts.

Ryder cleared his thickening throat. “How about you? You’re stunning as ever. Motherhood’s been good to you, I see.”

“Thanks.” She dropped her attention away from him, and a blush darkened her cheeks. When she dragged her gaze back to his, she smiled. “She might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I never expected I’d be a single mother, but she’s worth it, and I know we’ll be okay.”

Kara was strong. He’d never let the kindergarten-teacher front fool him. She could command armies if needed. “And the father?” Ryder forced the last word through his teeth. No one who abandoned his woman and unborn child deserved a title like that. But what else could he call him. Whoever he was.

“Gone.” She pulled in and released a long, steady breath. There was no remorse in her face, no anger. She was a better person than Ryder. The man hadn’t done a thing to him, and he wanted to punch his face.

“Does he check in from time to time or...”

“No,” she interrupted. “Like I said. He’s gone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” And he was. Because if the guy was here, he could hit him.

“Thanks.”

West had it right on this one. Kara was better off without a man who’d leave her like that. Ryder settled back in his chair, stretching booted feet beneath the table. He and Kara were about as caught up as they could get without unloading the massive elephant from his pocket. He set his phone on the table and flipped quickly through the photos he’d downloaded after speaking with West tonight. “I’ve got a photo of a fugitive I’d like you to look at.”

Kara stiffened. He could almost see the lightbulb flicking on as fear bleached her freckled cheeks. “You think the man who talked to me is a federal fugitive?”

“It might be nothing.” He forced a lazy smile. “Maybe your guy was a run-of-the-mill weirdo.”

She lifted crossed fingers in a show of sarcasm.

“Let’s find out.”

Kara raised her chin in agreement. “Okay.” She opened her hand to him. “Let’s see it, then.”

Ryder turned the little screen to face her. “Do you recognize him?” The photo of Sand was nearly two years old, and the most recent surveillance the US Marshals had. He wore a bushy beard and full head of hair in the picture, nothing like the description she’d just given him.

“That’s him.”

Ryder’s gaze jumped to hers. “You sure?” His heart pumped strong and hard against his ribs. “This is the man who bothered you today? You said he was clean-shaven and wore a hat. How can you tell with the big beard and wild hair?” He even had sunglasses in the gas station photo.

Kara set one pale pink fingernail on the grainy image. “There.”

Ryder turned the screen to him for a closer look.

The photo showed Timothy crossing the parking lot, legs extended in midstep, tucking cash into his wallet. One wrist in full view of the camera, with a small black spot marking him for the marshal.

She leveled Ryder with a no-nonsense look. “I’m willing to bet you’ll see that’s a heart if you blow up the image. Now, it’s your turn.”

Ryder stared at the photo. Sand didn’t have a tattoo. Did he? If so, he’d gotten it since the last time Ryder had laid eyes on him, and he hadn’t noticed it in this photo until now. Because he hadn’t expected it, the spot had seemed to him like nothing more than a digital blemish, but Kara’s description and the placement of that mark were too coincidental.

Ice rolled through Ryder’s veins. Timothy Sand was in Shadow Point, and he knew who Kara was.

“You want to tell me exactly who that man is?” she asked, arms folded on the table. “And why a federal fugitive whom you’re hunting sought me out in a park bursting with people?”

Ryder pulled in a deep steadying breath. “I can only guess at how to answer that last question.”

“And the first?”

Ryder dropped the phone between them. “This man is Timothy Sand.”

Chapter Three

Kara’s eyes bulged. Her heart lodged in her throat. “No,” she said, unwilling to allow the vile statement to be true. “He can’t be.” She pressed her pointed finger against the tabletop. “No.”

Ryder rubbed his mouth and lightly stubbled cheeks, a look of apologetic desperation in his eyes. “Kara,” he began.

She shook her head, cutting off whatever he’d planned to say. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are going to be ‘Just kidding,’ then keep ’em to yourself.” Her traitorous lip quivered and tears stung her tired eyes. There had been far too much drama today. Too many men. They were ruining the peaceful, predictable, nearly perfect life she adored. She and Casey were supposed to be safe in Shadow Point. Supported by the community. Surrounded by a tight network of moms she’d met in Lamaze and Stroller Fit classes. Things were going really well, and now...her gaze fell on Ryder’s handsome, bunched up face. “You can’t come strutting back into my life after years of doing who-knows-what and mess it all up. I won’t allow it.”

His jaw dropped. The startling blue of his eyes seemed to darken in disbelief. “What do you mean? Who-knows-what? What do you think I’ve been doing?”

She crossed her arms in a show of defiance, but fear was already sliding over her, jarring her composure. “I can’t do this.” She dropped her tone and petulant posture. “Not anymore. I put you and your Sand obsession out on the curb. You can’t just pop back up. My heart can’t take it.” She rubbed her chest. She shouldn’t have to worry about protecting her infant from a fugitive, and she shouldn’t have to endure the pain of watching Ryder walk away again when his business in Shadow Point was done.

Her arms found their way back around her middle, uselessly trying to hold herself together while a tornado of emotions spun in her scrambled head. How stupid of her to feel heartbroken all over again. The sight of Ryder Garrett shouldn’t do this to her. It wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair. She bit into her lip and forced herself to think rationally. Ryder wasn’t back for her. He was back for Sand. He’d landed on her doorstep dragging the same baggage he’d left with. Only this time everything was worse. The fugitive was in town. And she had a baby to think about.

She narrowed her eyes at Ryder, measuring what to say next. She should never have let his clear expression and sensible words fool her. He wasn’t reformed. Ryder was still a junkie. He might not be hooked on anything illegal, but his drug of choice was every bit as lethal.

* * *

RYDER WATCHED HELPLESSLY as Kara’s wide eyes brimmed with tears. Never one for a big show of emotion, she shoved away from the table and turned her back on him. He followed her to the living room on instinct. “Kara.” This was 100 percent his fault. He’d somehow allowed the monster he’d chased for so long to wind up on her doorstep. Whether or not Sand had made a personal appearance at her home, he’d found her at the park, and that meant he knew her routine. He’d likely been watching since the first day he was set free. “I’m sorry.”

She stopped midstep and turned on her toes to face him. A solitary tear rolled over her cheek, but she made no move to catch it. Instead, her stubborn chin inched higher. “Why?” she snapped.

“Why what?” Ryder froze, mentally flailing. “Why is Sand here? Bothering you? I don’t know, but I promise you, I will stop him this time.”

She puffed out her cheeks, sending air into her bangs and setting them to flutter. “Why are you sorry?” She dragged the question into long, pointed words.

Ryder rocked back on his heels. A boulder of regret settled in the hollow of his chest, flattening his lungs and strangling his breath. He slid his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. When he’d followed her to the living room, he’d intended to hold her, to cradle and comfort her, but the look on her face said he’d likely lose a hand for trying, and he’d better start talking or he was going back to the curb, fugitive or not. “I’m sorry for everything.” He cringed at the lame answer. He knew it wasn’t what she wanted, but it was true anyway.

“Keep talking.”

“All right.” Might as well start with the most obvious and pertinent reason. “I’m sorry my position as a US marshal has upset your life and possibly endangered you and your baby.”

Her eyebrows rose in unison. A perfect expression of You think?

She turned to pace the room, aimlessly righting toppled piles of plastic toys and stacks of small pink blankets. “Anything else?” she prompted, suddenly abusing a frilly pillow.

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is the right time to talk about that.” In other words, he didn’t know where to begin, and he’d rather not. He’d imagined contacting her a thousand times, even rehearsed in the shower what he would say to her, and, embarrassingly, once to his therapist at work. It hadn’t been his intent to talk about Kara, but there was only so long he could discuss punching his coworker in the face.

Kara snapped upright, dropping the little pillow onto the couch. “Now’s not good for you, huh?” She nodded slowly, baiting him. “Well, a better time, then.” She glided around the coffee table straightening magazines. “I wonder when that will be?” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe two or three years from now when you turn up without notice again? Will that work for you?” She smiled, tight and bright. “I can’t imagine what the reason will be next time. Maybe a crime boss on the run will be posing as my daughter’s preschool teacher.”

Ryder’s lips twitched. He’d always gotten a kick out of Kara’s fury. Not that she was usually wrong in her anger. She was patient and forgiving to a fault, but she was also stretching for five foot four, and her long wavy blond hair and big cartoon princess eyes made it all the worse. Angry Kara was a fluffy bunny baring her teeth, and the sight of her tiny face turning six shades of pissed usually ended their fights. He’d laugh, apologize and drag her into his arms, because what kind of jerk upsets a bunny?

Kara’s forced smile fell. She pressed her palms against the narrow curve of her waist, emphasizing her full breasts and testing the integrity of her tank top. “Something funny?”

He pulled his eyes back above her collar where they belonged. “What?”

“Why is the fugitive you were chasing three years ago bothering me now? To hurt you? That seems silly. If he thinks we’re still a couple, he should brush up on his stalking skills.”

“I imagine that’s what he’s doing now. I think you’re right. He’s looking to hurt me, and now he’s free to do it.”

Kara’s knees buckled. She planted onto their old couch with a sharp exhale and covered her lips with narrow fingers. “He asked me about the daddy.”

“What did you say?” A bubble of hope rose in Ryder’s chest. “Did you tell him the father’s name? Make sure he knew she wasn’t mine?” Maybe Kara and her baby were safer than he’d thought. Sand was sure to leave Kara alone if he knew she wasn’t in Ryder’s life anymore. He’d have to move on. Find another angle.

Kara stretched her eyes wide. “I didn’t tell him anything. He asked if her daddy was at work, then he said he must be missing her. I just said no. I don’t engage with people like that, and I never give out personal details. I made it crystal clear that my level of interest in talking with him was zero, and I left.”

Ryder swore, then pinched his lips tight. He ran a heavy hand through his hair and curled his fingers knuckle-deep into the strands. Kara had done the right thing for any other situation, but she’d likely only kindled Sand’s interest today. They were engaged when Ryder started to pursue him. Sand had no reason to think they weren’t married now and raising a family.

“S-so,” Kara stuttered. “Sand is definitely coming after me now because he thinks we got married and had a baby.”

Ryder took a seat at her side and swooped an arm around her shoulders like he had hundreds of times before. “Come here.”

She leaned into him, covering her face with one hand and rolling against his side. He inhaled the soft, familiar scent of her, soaked in her warmth and longed to be her hero once again. The man she’d fallen in love with when he saved her goofy kite from a tree. Her class had finger painted terrible kites to look like butterflies and rainbows. An errant wind had blown Kara’s into a tree. If it hadn’t been for that damn kite and Ryder’s affinity for tree climbing, they might never have met. But they did, and they were happy.

He missed being there for her. Opening jars and carrying things her short little arms couldn’t manage. He missed driving her places in his truck so she could perform a one-woman karaoke concert in the passenger seat. More than that, he desperately missed her.

Kara pulled her legs onto the couch, hugging her knees to her chest and pulling away from him. She folded herself into a little bundle, and Ryder longed to toss her in his truck and rush her to safety.

But she had a baby now. And a life here without him. He couldn’t carry her away.

He had to stay and protect her. He needed to fix the mess he’d inadvertently caused. “Hey.” He set a careful hand on her back and rubbed the pad of his thumb against her shoulder blade. “I know you don’t have any reason to believe this, but I’m not the same as I was before. My head’s clear. My priorities are straight. I’ve never been better at what I do, or knowing who I am. I can catch Sand this time, and when I do, I’ve got enough evidence to form a pretty strong case against him for his first murder.”

She rolled her head against her knee until her face came into view. Her lashes were wet with tears. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He curled a swath of her hair around his finger and tucked it behind her ear, keeping his eyes fixed on hers, begging her to see the truth. He could and would protect her at any cost.

Kara nodded. “Okay.”

“Good,” he whispered, emotion choking the word. He opened his arms and she fell right in, collapsing against his chest and curling into the curve of his side. Kara believed him. Despite everything they’d been through, and despite seeing him at his worst, she trusted him to protect her and her baby. That meant something. His heart swelled with joy and hope for a different future. “I won’t let Timothy Sand hurt you,” he said, stroking her soft vanilla-scented hair. “That’s a promise.”

* * *

SQUEALING TIRES BURNED a hole in the comfortable silence and Kara’s limbs went rigid.

She yelped as Ryder swiftly shoved her aside. He leapt away from the couch before the raucous sound had ended. “What is it?” She jumped onto her feet a split second behind him, but Ryder was faster, already out her front door and jogging down the street. A pair of glowing red taillights were barely visible in the distance.

Kara shut the door and locked it. She grabbed the baby monitor from the counter and found a place at the front window where she could watch whatever happened next. Should she call West? Or make a run for the nursery to collect her baby?

Outside, Ryder strode confidently through the night, gun in one hand, cell phone in the other.

Maybe he would call West.

He stopped at a large SUV parked catty-corner from her home and holstered his weapon. He turned in a small circle before lifting something from the vehicle’s windshield.

Kara strained to see what it was.

Ryder made another call and headed back in her direction, moving slowly at first, then breaking into a jog.

As he passed beneath the motion light over her driveway, the mysterious object came terrifyingly into view.

Someone had left Ryder a badly charred matchbook.

Chapter Four

Kara unlocked the door and stepped away as Ryder turned the knob. He walked back inside unbidden, a sadly appropriate metaphor for their relationship. All he had to do was show up, and she let him in. He dropped a black duffel bag onto her floor, apparently planning to stay awhile. She shook her head, silently scolding herself for the naive flutter of excitement. Ryder Garrett might offer protection from whatever he’d gotten her into, but he was dangerous for her heart. Just seeing his face had quickened her pulse, and the way she’d felt while briefly in his arms tonight had brought an unwelcome rush of nostalgia.

Nice as it was to think things could be different, she couldn’t allow Ryder’s presence to shift her world in unfair ways. And she couldn’t afford to let her foolish heart distract her from the real reason Ryder had shown up at all.

“Well?” she asked, wrapping goose-pimpled arms around her middle and eyeballing the charred matchbook in his hand.

He rubbed the sleeve of his black jacket across his forehead. “Can I borrow a baggie?”

Kara glared at him before marching into the kitchen.

Ryder followed, tapping away at his phone screen with the thumb of one hand, while carrying the ruined matchbook, reverently, in the other. The crazed look on his face tilted her stomach.

“Is that from him?” she asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“I believe so, yes.”

She swung the pantry door open and tried not to vomit. Kara had been afraid of many things in her life, but never for her life. Certainly not for the life of her daughter. Her gut clenched more tightly at the thought.

“Here.” She thrust an empty sandwich baggie in his direction, half terrified, wholly pissed. “Will this work?”

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” she snapped. “Because as far as I know, it’s only meant to hold the innocuous parts of my lunch. Not the charred remains of a serial arsonist’s blatant threat.”

Ryder dropped the matchbook into the baggie and zipped it shut. “Don’t sell him short. He’s also a murderer.”

Kara’s jaw dropped.

Ryder grimaced. “Sorry. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

That makes two of us.

When Kara had woken this morning, her biggest concern was fitting back into her pre-pregnancy wardrobe before school started next month. She’d feared having to buy more clothes on an already tight budget and leaving her baby for the first time since seeing her sweet face in the delivery room.

Now, thanks to some evil twist of fate, she and Casey were on a lunatic’s radar when the man he truly wanted was in her kitchen unpacking what looked like an overnight bag.

Cruel fate had to keep twisting that knife a little deeper. Taking Ryder from her, then returning him only because his criminal obsession had visited. Now, to require that he stay with her, in the home they’d once shared. Kara rubbed the heated skin above her heart, unable to soothe the deep ache.

“Ryder.” She placed a hand on his shoulder as he unearthed a small fingerprint kit and gloves from a compartment beside a change of clothes.

Her hand slid off as he set up a makeshift workstation on her countertop, unhearing, then adjusted a lamp to shine on the area. The efficiency of his quick movements was all too familiar. Kara recognized the stiff posture and focused expression as he entered what she’d grudgingly called “marshal mode.” A chill slithered down her spine, sending a mass of ugly memories to the surface. The gut-churning recollections of watching helplessly while her fiancé became consumed rolled her stomach.

“Ryder,” she repeated, using her teacher voice this time.

His face jerked in her direction, and a look of shock raised his furrowed brows. Had he already forgotten she was there?

“Yeah?” he asked, seeming to return to himself. His ruddy cheeks and clear eyes were an improvement over the last time she’d interrupted him like this.

A bud of hope grew in her heart. Maybe Ryder was telling the truth. Maybe he was better now. Much as she wanted to believe it, she had more than herself to worry about. She had to think of Casey’s best interest and not her own desperate heart.

Kara moved forward, pressing into his personal space and leveling him with her business stare. “Stop.”

He dropped his hands to his sides and turned to face her fully, leaving the project to wait. For a moment, he looked frightened, as if whatever she said next could have the power to break him.

Somewhere deep down, Kara thought that might be true. After all, Ryder had loved her once, just not enough, and never more than his fixation on a man who didn’t know he’d existed.

Kara pushed hurt feelings and pride aside. Everything that had happened between them was in the past. Right now she needed to know why Timothy Sand had approached her and how to keep Casey safe.

Right now, Kara needed a partner.

She lifted her brows at him. Ryder wouldn’t want to answer her next demand, but he had to. The moment his job had put her daughter in danger, Kara earned the right to know exactly what she was dealing with.

She tipped her chin upward and squared her shoulders. “I need to know everything there is to know about Timothy Sand.”

* * *

RYDER TRIED HIS best not to argue. He needed to at least attempt to pull prints from the matchbook, but she was right. He also needed to help Kara understand the things he’d never told her before. When they’d been in love, he’d worked hard to shield her from his work. It didn’t involve her, and Ryder had wanted to protect her. Kara was sweet-natured and kind. The sort of woman everyone loved at first sight. It didn’t make sense to ruin that with stories of fugitive apprehensions or prisoner transports. She didn’t need to know all the awful reasons people lived in witness protection, or why serving federal arrest warrants wasn’t as simple as what was portrayed on TV.

He’d intentionally kept the details of Timothy Sand’s crimes out of their pillow talk and dinnertime conversations because Kara was too good to hear that mess. She was good and true. Timothy Sand was something evil.

Ryder poured two fresh cups of coffee and sent another round of messages to his team in Cincinnati on his way to the table where Kara waited. He’d protected her before. The gruesome details had had nothing to do with her. But things had changed.

He settled into the chair across from her at the small dinette, hating everything he had to say next almost as much as the man it was about. Timothy Sand had given him no choice but to reveal the sequence of events that had nearly driven Ryder insane.

“Just say it,” Kara blurted. “I can take it. I just need to know. No more secrets or you’re not staying.”

Ryder patted the table with one heavy palm. He was staying whether she liked it or not. It might be in a sleeping bag on the porch, but he wasn’t leaving. Not until he could take her with him, which would hopefully be in the morning.

“Timothy Sand is an arsonist,” he said. Kara knew that much, of course. She tipped her head sarcastically, as if to say, “No kidding.” “He set fire to the home of his in-laws after his wife ran there for refuge.”

She sat back then, obviously feeling the weight of his words. Her lips pressed into a thin white line. Domestic violence was a personal villain of Kara’s. An ex-boyfriend in high school had hit her after she didn’t “act right” in his opinion. She didn’t talk about the details often, but she’d made it her mission that day to shed light on people like him and expose abusive men for what they were: criminals.

Ryder had been very careful to make sure she knew he wasn’t like that guy. He’d have gladly stepped in front of a train to protect her. Still would. And anyone who wouldn’t didn’t deserve her time.

“And?” she prompted, coming back to life after the initial jolt.

“He’d been charged with multiple counts of domestic violence over the years. Eventually, his wife had enough and left him. You know the statistics on that.” Leaving an abuser often escalated the abuse. Timothy was no better than the average aggressive asshole. No. He was much worse.

Ryder wrapped his hands around the nearly forgotten mug of coffee. “He followed her to her family’s home where she went to hide. Then he killed her, her parents and her younger siblings with a hunting knife.”

Kara covered her mouth with one small palm.

Ryder’s face heated with residual anger, and he felt the disgust rise inside him. He hadn’t captured Sand when he had the chance and now that monster was after Kara.

The look on Kara’s face was so heartbreaking Ryder considered ending the story there. He hated being the cause of that expression. The one that said, How can you deal with this every day? It’s unthinkable. Vile. Horrific. Disgusting. What kind of person chooses this work? Chooses to expose themselves to these things without end?

All legitimate questions, but what most people didn’t understand was that there were days when everything was golden and the bad guy paid for his crimes because of people like Ryder. Days when a family was released from their personal hell because a fugitive was captured. A killer put in jail. Those days made all the bad ones worthwhile.

“Timothy Sand burned the house down around their bodies, making it harder to identify them and the causes of their deaths, but there will always be a few things that can’t stay hidden.”

“The sun, the moon and the truth,” she said.

Ryder nearly smiled. It was nice to know she remembered his family’s favorite saying. Four brothers and a father, all lawmen. All who believed in justice and vowed to serve as best they could to make it happen.

“Sand was caught, eventually. He had no remorse. Probably blamed his wife for running and the family for giving her shelter. He’s still wanted for the original charges plus multiple counts of murder and unlawful flight to avoid prosecution when his path crossed mine.”

Kara listened intently. “‘Multiple counts of murder to avoid prosecution,’” she repeated. “Does that mean he killed again, while you were chasing him?”

Ryder nodded.

“And that was when you got hooked. Trying to stop him.”

“Yes.” Hooked. She’d always used that word as if Ryder had been on drugs. Though, in hindsight, it wasn’t the worst analogy. He’d been just as addicted, just as sick.

“That was the beginning,” he admitted. “After a while, I made some progress tracking him, and things got worse. I followed him to a small town in Ohio.”

Kara crossed her legs and leaned closer. “You were gone two weeks. I remember.”

“I had him.” Almost. Ryder swallowed hard, forcing his shameful gaze back to Kara’s sincere one. He’d driven through the night to get there, then followed the leads right to Timothy Sand. Within forty-eight hours, he knew everything he needed to bring him in. “I walked the town. Talked to the locals and uncovered his one mistake. He’d used his real name with a convenience store clerk, Jennifer Sayers.” Ryder’s lids fell shut. When he reopened them, he focused on the details of his old kitchen instead of the beauty before him. “Jennifer was young, happy and pretty enough that he’d forgotten himself, forgotten the alias. That slip was all I’d needed to get my hands on him.”

But he hadn’t.

Instead, Ryder had lurked in the shadows, building his case and waiting for the right time to make his arrest. “Three days after I’d started following him there, about a week after I’d received the notice that someone fitting his description was in that town, I went to the docks where he worked under an alias and waited for him to return from lunch. There were plenty of witnesses on hand, and he had nowhere to run without going for a swim. He took a bus to work, so there was no getaway car. Just a marshal and a fugitive. It should have been a textbook capture, but Timothy never showed. Instead, he went into town during his lunch and burned down the home of Jennifer Sayers.”

Kara gasped.

Ryder pressed on. “Somehow, he’d known I was there. Knew she’d told me about him. And he went to punish her.” Ryder pressed angry fingers to his temples. “She had an infant and three other children with her in the home.”

Shock twisted Kara’s sad expression into something caught between pity and horror.

Ryder couldn’t blame her. He’d felt those things and more when he’d gotten the news, until eventually he’d felt nothing. In fact, the aftermath of that fateful day had nearly killed him. Thankfully, punching his colleague six months later had resulted in him getting some help. All those weeks of Marshals-mandated counseling should have been a joke, but it became his lifeline.

“That was when I began to unravel,” he admitted. He dragged his gaze back to hers, hating what his hesitation had done to the lives of Jenifer Sayers and her family. To Kara’s. To his. “For me, that was the beginning of the end.”

Kara set her fingers over his hand on the table and warmth spread through him. “Hey.”

Ryder raised reluctant eyes to hers. “I’m so sorry.”

Kara nodded once. “I wish I had known.”

“I couldn’t say it out loud,” he whispered. “When I came home to my happy life. My fiancée. Planning our wedding.” He swallowed long and slow. “Everything Jennifer had lost because I didn’t act faster...”

Kara’s fingers curled under Ryder’s palm. “If he’s in Shadow Point, I know you’ll find him. You can get him this time.”

Ryder forced a painful lump of emotion deep into his chest. “I will.”

“Okay,” she said. “Should I guess from the duffel bag that you’ll be staying here while you’re in town?”

He glanced at the couch. “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather not leave you alone. Tomorrow I’ll find a better place for you and your baby until Sand is captured.”

Her panicked gaze jumped to the baggie with the charred matchbook. “You don’t think I’m safe here? You think that guy might burn my house down?” Kara was on her feet then, hands waving helplessly in front of her.

Ryder met her there in an instant, and he wrapped her in his arms. The fear on her face ripped at his already shredded heart, and he did the only thing he could in that moment. Be there for her. Shockingly, she let him. “I’ll protect you, Kara,” he vowed. “You and your baby. We’ll move you someplace safe tomorrow, but right now there’s work to do.”

Kara wriggled free, wiping her eyes and staring anywhere except at Ryder. “Right. I’ll go pack my things and a bag for Casey so we’re ready.”

Ryder nodded, already back to the island and setting up to check the matchbook for fingerprints. “I’ll call and make arrangements for the move.”

The baggie fell from his fingertips then, caught by the counter beneath his hands. He turned to gape at Kara as she hustled toward the steps to the second floor. “What is your daughter’s name?” he asked, projecting his voice so Kara was sure to hear.

Her cheeks went crimson. Her feet slowed on the carpeted stairs. “Casey,” she repeated, a pained look in her eye, before hurrying out of sight.

Ryder Casey Garrett worked to reinflate his lungs.

He’d been gone far too long to be the baby’s father, but maybe Kara hadn’t written him off as completely as he’d imagined. Maybe there was still hope there.

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