Trusting A Cowboy

Rancher Austin Blackwell knows a wounded creature when he sees one. Although Annalisa Keller won’t reveal how she ended up stranded in Whisper Falls, his conscience refuses to let her leave. The little Ozarks town could be the perfect place for her to start over—just as it was for him. Trying to keep his own past hidden, Austin finds himself falling for the vulnerable beauty with too many secrets. Before long, Annalisa’s warmth and love of life work their way into Austin’s heart...and promise never to leave.

“Are you okay?” The question he always asked, the one that melted her anxiety.

“I’m fine. Why?” But she knew, of course.

“I upset you.”

She glanced around the glade, a pristine wilderness broken only by the train tracks.

“Only for a moment.”

He eased an arm around her shoulders, let it lie there lightly as if gauging her acceptance. “You’re safe with me.”

“I know.” And she did. In her head she knew. In her heart she knew. But bad experiences died hard.

When she didn’t pull away, Austin drew her close to his side and she rested there, letting tension drain away. Gently he opened her fingers and touched the arrowhead, a gray gleam on her palm. “Quite a find. Rare and special. There aren’t many left.”

Like him. A rare and special find. A man to trust.

She was terrified of loving again, of taking a chance. If Austin knew everything about her past, would he reject her, as broken as she was?

LINDA GOODNIGHT

Winner of a RITA® Award for excellence in inspirational fiction, Linda Goodnight has also won a Booksellers’ Best Award, an ACFW Book of the Year award and a Reviewers’ Choice Award from RT Book Reviews. Linda has appeared on the Christian bestseller list and her romance novels have been translated into more than a dozen languages. Active in orphan ministry, this former nurse and teacher enjoys writing fiction that carries a message of hope and light in a sometimes dark world. She and her husband, Gene, live in Oklahoma. Readers can write to her at linda@lindagoodnight.com or c/o Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Rancher’s Refuge

Linda Goodnight

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Two are better than one....

If one falls down, the other can help him up.

But it is bad for the person who is alone and falls, because no one is there to help.

—Ecclesiastes 4:9, 10

Contents

Prologue

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

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Prologue

Rumor says that if a prayer is murmured beneath Whisper Falls, God will hear and answer. Some folks think it’s superstitious nonsense. Some think it’s a clever ploy to attract tourists. Others believe that God works in mysterious ways, and prayers, no matter where whispered, are always heard.

Chapter One

Left hand riding lightly on his thigh, Austin Blackwell held the reins with the other and picked his way through the thick woods above Whisper Falls, Arkansas. If one more calf strayed into this no-man’s land between his ranch and the cascading waterfall, he was putting up another fence. A really tall one. Barbed wire. Electrified. Let the folks of the small Ozark town whine and bellow that he was ruining the ambience or whatever they called the pristine beauty of these deep woods. They just didn’t want to lose any tourist money. Well, he didn’t want to lose any cattle money, either. So they were on even playing field. He’d never wanted to open the waterfall to tourism in the first place.

Now, every yahoo with an itch to climb down the rock wall cliff and duck behind the curtain of silvery water traipsed all over his property just to mutter a prayer or two. Wishful thinking or pure silliness. He’d made the trek a few times himself and he could guarantee prayers whispered there or anywhere else for that matter were a waste of good breath.

Something moved through the dense trees at his left and Austin pulled the horse to a stop. Cisco flicked his ears toward the movement, alert and ready to break after the maverick at the flinch of his master’s knee.

“Easy,” Austin murmured, patting the sleek brown neck while he scoped the woods, waiting for a sight or sound. Above him a squirrel chattered, getting ready for winter. Autumn leaves in reds and golds swirled down from the branches. Sunlight dappled between the trees, although the temperature was cool enough that Austin’s jacket felt good.

He pressed his white Stetson tighter and urged the bay onward in the direction of the falls, the direction from which the movement had come. Might be the maverick.

“Coyote, probably.” But black bear and cougar weren’t out of the question. He tapped the rifle holster, confident he could handle anything he encountered in the woods. Outside the ranch was a different matter.

The roar of the falls increased as he rode closer. Something moved again and he twisted in the saddle to see the stray heifer break from the opposite direction. Cisco responded with the training of a good cutting horse. Austin grappled for the lariat rope as the calf split to the right and crashed through the woods to disappear down a draw.

Cisco wisely put on the brakes and waited for instructions. Austin lowered the rope, mouth twisting in frustration. No use endangering a good horse in this rugged, uneven terrain.

At least the stray had headed in the right direction, back toward the ranch.

“Yep, I’m puttin’ up another fence.” He patted Cisco’s neck with a leather-gloved hand. Somewhere along the meager stretch of old barbed wire the calves had found a place to slip through. Maybe in one of the low places or through a washout from one of the many creeks branching from the Blackberry River. Finding the break across three miles of snaggy underbrush would be a challenge.

But Austin liked it up here on the grassy, leaf- and hickory-lined ridge above Whisper Falls. Always had, especially before the stories started and people came with their noise and tents and plastic water bottles. Before the name changed from Millerville to Whisper Falls—a town council decision to attract tourists. He understood. He really did. Ruggedly beautiful, this area of the Ozarks was isolated. Transportation was poor and there was little opportunity for economic growth, especially since the pumpkin cannery shut down.

The remoteness was why he’d come here. The economy was why he ranched.

Those were also the reasons the little town had changed its name and started the ridiculous marketing campaign to attract tourism. Whisper Falls. Austin snorted. No amount of marketing moved God to answer prayers.

He shifted in the saddle to look toward the ninety-feet-high waterfall.

Here, the Blackberry River tumbled faster than near the ranch, picking up speed before plummeting over the cliff in a white, foamy, spectacular display of nature’s force and beauty.

The solitude of the woods soothed him, helped him forget. Nature didn’t judge the way people would. He could be himself. He could relax.

The air was clean here, too, tinted with the spray of freshness from the bubbling falls. It almost made him feel clean inside again. Almost. He breathed the crispness into his lungs, held the scent. Hickory and river, moist earth and rotting leaves. Good smells to an outdoorsman. Great smells to a man whose past stank like sewage.

“Better get moving, Cisco. Maybe we can find the fence break before dark.”

He pulled the bay around and that’s when he saw the woman. A slim figure in dark slacks and bright blue sweater moved quickly from tree to tree in some game of hide-and-seek. Curious, Austin took out his field glasses to look around, expecting a child or lover to join the game. No one did.

Austin swung the binoculars back to the woman. What he saw spurred him to action.

* * *

Annalisa Keller stifled a sob. She had to hide. She had to get away. “Please, God. Help.”

She heard him coming, thrashing, crashing through the dry leaves and underbrush like the madman he was. Knees rattling, she cradled her left arm and stumbled down the rocky incline. Straight ahead, the falls roared, a rush of sound with the power to sweep her away. The thought tempted, beckoned. Jump in and be swept away. He could never find her. No one would.

Teeth chattering, she resisted the frightening urge. The instinct to survive was too strong. She couldn’t give up now.

“Help me, God,” she whispered again, grappling to the sides of slick rock, edging closer to the beckoning water, to the screaming falls. The footpath was worn and well-used, as if others had come this way before her. She followed the stones, clinging with cold fingers to the jutting rocks as she edged along the cliff face, hoping to hide from searching eyes above.

The roar of the falls grew louder still. Her heart thundered in answer. Before her was the waterfall. Behind her was the direction she’d come. An awful thought engulfed her. Why had she begun the descent to the falls? If he spotted her, she’d be trapped between him and the raging water.

But she knew why. She’d been running blindly with no destination in mind other than escape.

She sensed him coming, felt the air change with another presence. In desperation, Annalisa moved forward, praying there was sanctuary against the wet cliff face. One more step and...

The world went silent. A deafening silence.

Shocked, Annalisa wondered for one beat if she’d actually jumped into the foaming pool below the waterfall, if she was dead.

Trembling, she reached out, touched the silver curtain of water in front of her. A hard rain shower soaked her hand, cold and prickly like needles of ice.

In awe, she glanced to each side and then upward. The sight was dizzying. Behind was solid rock, wet and slick and shiny, with a jutting overhang high above. Water rocketed over the cliff with such force that a quiet space, like a white-noise machine, formed behind the cascade. She stood on a two-foot ledge, protected in the back by a wall of rock and hidden in front by the waterfall. It was like something out of the movie The Last of the Mohicans.

Her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit. Maybe James hadn’t seen her descend. Maybe he wouldn’t know she was here. Warmth oozed from her nose. Swiping at the liquid with the back of her hand, Annalisa came away with blood. She shivered, both from cold and shock.

James had nearly killed her this time. He’d kicked her out of the car, tried to run her down and then driven away. She’d seen him angry plenty of times, but never like this. Never so completely out of control.

With a shaky sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the hard, damp rocks at her back. Her arm ached all the way to her wrenched shoulder. She wondered if the bone was broken.

Never again. Never, never again. She’d said that the first time he’d hurt her, but this time she meant it.

She listened, intent, but could hear nothing from within the watery cocoon.

Maybe James hadn’t followed her. Maybe he would go home to California without her. He’d said she wasn’t worth the headache. But she also knew his terrible egotistical pride. James got what James wanted. He hated being the loser.

A scrambling noise jerked her to attention. A rock clattered against rock.

Annalisa’s heart jacked into overdrive. Blood pounded in her ears. If he’d found her, she was as good as dead, a casualty to the rocky pool below. No one would ever know he’d pushed her.

For a second she was helpless. Then the need to survive kicked in. He would not take her down easily.

With her one good hand, she groped the space at her feet and found what she needed. A rock. A small one, but a weapon just the same.

The sound of movement increased, grew closer. A shadow moved. A big shadow.

Shaking hard, she raised her arm.

A hulk ducked behind the curtain of water. Annalisa’s heart hammered wildly. She braced to defend.

“Hey, lady, are you ok—”

With a sob, she struck, crashing the rock down with all her ebbing strength.

“Hey!” The shadow staggered back, arm upraised in defense.

The haze of fear cleared from Annalisa’s eyes. A man had joined her behind the falls but not James. He wasn’t James. He was a big, dark, angry stranger in a cowboy hat.

And she’d bashed him with a rock.

* * *

Austin blinked rapidly at the slender woman with the stunned face. She was as pale as strained milk and bleeding from the nose and mouth.

“What’s going on here?”

She dropped her whamming rock and shrunk away from him.

Austin frowned. Why the heck was she cowering?

“I’m sorry. I thought—” She clamped her pale, chattering lips shut.

He rubbed at the growing knot at his temple, surprised to find his hat barely askew. As he adjusted the Stetson, the stars subsided enough that he could remember why he’d come down from the ridge to begin with. “What happened to your face?”

She shook her head. Hair as gold as a palomino horse clung to the sides of her face. It was a good face, nice bone structure, with long blue eyes that took up a lot of physical real estate. But her nose was bleeding and her upper lip puffed out like a bee sting.

Those eyes shifted to one side. In a low murmur she said, “I fell.”

“Here? On the rocks? Did you fall from the ridge?”

“Um, yes. On the rocks. I was...um...hiking.” Again, her eyes skittered all over the place. Everywhere but on him. Austin’s sixth sense crackled like milk-drenched Rice Krispies. There was something the little lady wasn’t saying. His gaze dropped to her shoes. Heels. Strappy, spiky heels. She was hiking in those?

“Looks like you need a doc. Can I call someone for you?” He fished in his pocket and dragged out a cell. “No guarantee of service up here.”

She shook her head. “There’s none. I tried.”

Other than his, Austin didn’t see a cell phone. In fact, she carried nothing at all, and unless his eyesight had worsened in the past three minutes, she had no pockets in the sleek pants and fitted sweater. The sixth sense squealed louder. Something was amiss.

He glanced at his trusty little flip phone. The woman was right. The satellite logo was spinning like a top and coming up short. No service. “You hiking up here alone?”

“What?” She looked startled, doe-eyed and guilty about something. A drop of blood rimmed one nostril. She dabbed it with a wrist.

“You said you were hiking and fell. You alone?”

“Oh. Um...yes. Alone.” Again the shifty eyes, the jittery movements. Add a hard swallow for measure and he was sure the lady was lying through her even, white teeth.

She started to move as if to pass him. Austin stepped back but not in time. She bumped the rock face. A cry slipped from swollen lips as she grabbed for her left arm. “Oh, God, please.”

Austin jacked an eyebrow. Was she one of those fruitcakes lured by the town’s “rumor” of answered prayers? “Forget it. It’s just a story made up to draw tourists.”

She blinked, cradling the arm against her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Praying under the waterfall.” He motioned toward the foaming spray of water. “Useless.”

With a bewildered look, she doubled forward and moaned. Her body shook like a motherless calf on Christmas morning.

Against his better judgment, Austin accepted what he had to do. “That’s it. You’re going to a doctor.”

“I think my arm may be broken, but...” She ended on a sob.

“But what?”

Her pale lips tightened beneath worried eyes. Austin huffed a frustrated sigh. One, the woman was hurt. Two, she was lying. Three, he wasn’t sure what else to do.

He didn’t like getting involved in other people’s business. In fact, he didn’t like getting involved with any kind of people for any reason, but he wasn’t a heartless mule, either, who’d leave a woman with a broken arm five miles from the nearest working telephone.

“Come on.” He edged his way from beneath the falls and out into the perfect early autumn day. Or it had been perfect until the calf disappeared and a woman showed up.

Austin started up the rocks toward his waiting horse before he remembered. The woman had only one good arm. Going down to the falls was an adventure. Getting back up required two good hands and a stout disposition. With a sigh, he pivoted, taking care on the slick limestone.

Wet and shaking, the blonde edged cautiously along the wall, still cradling the arm.

He trudged back to her. “How did you get down here anyway?”

She shrugged but said nothing. Her silence bothered him.

“Oh, right, you fell.” And I flew in on a Learjet. “Come on. You first.” If she slipped, he could catch her.

She skittered past him, huddled into herself, the bright blue sweater stretched taut across her stooped back. She was like a wounded blue jay, a flash of color against the deep gray rocks.

Austin wanted to take hold of her elbow to steady her ascent but she didn’t give him the chance. She was a strange creature, a mystery with her scared-doe eyes and defiant rock thumping.

He lifted a hand to his temple, found the knot. It didn’t hurt much, nothing compared to how the woman’s arm must feel. He’d had a broken bone once when a horse and cow collided and his leg was sandwiched between. Hurt like the dickens.

He could hear her breathing, the puffs of someone unaccustomed to long hikes on rough terrain. He thought of her girly heeled shoes, her upscale clothes, the bleeding face. She was lying.

The question was, why?

He moved in behind her and took her elbow with one hand and supported her back with the other. She flinched, a motion that made Austin grind his back teeth. But she didn’t pull away, a good thing, because Austin was a stubborn man. If he had to, he’d swoop her over one shoulder and cart her up the rise like a sack of sweet feed. She probably didn’t weigh much more than a hundred-pound sack of oats.

They reached the top of the ridge and she paused for a moment to catch her breath and look around. Not a casual glance at nature’s beauty, but a search. A furtive, wary search.

For what?

Austin’s eyes narrowed. “My horse is this way.”

She spun toward him. “Horse?”

“Look, lady, there are no roads back in here. The nearest ATV trail is three miles and then it’s another two miles to town. You either walk or ride horses.” Or like some high-rollers, you flew over in helicopters. Man, did that ever set his teeth on edge. He scowled. “You didn’t fly in on a helicopter, did you?”

“No.” She hitched her chin. He noticed long red marks on her throat. Funny place to be injured in a fall. “I can walk if you’ll lead the way.”

Stacking fists on hips, Austin rolled his eyes. “Afraid of horses?”

“No.”

“Then why walk when you can ride?”

“But you said...it’s your horse.”

“I don’t know where you come from, lady, but around here a man doesn’t ride while the woman walks. What’s your name anyway?”

She hesitated before saying, “Annalisa.”

No last name. Interesting.

“Fancy name.” But then she was a fancy-looking woman, sleek and well-groomed. Except for the blood and bruises. “I’m Austin Blackwell. You’re on my ranch.” Practically.

She pressed her lips together in an expression of worry. “I’m sorry.”

He glared at her. “For what?”

Her fingers fluttered. Exactly like the pulse above her collarbone. “Trespassing. I should have asked before...uh...hiking.”

Austin pinned her with a look. “Yeah. Hiking.”

It was none of his business if she fell or jumped or was attacked by Sasquatch, just as it was none of his business if she lied. None.

Austin started to sweat.

The last thing he needed was a woman with suspicious injuries.

They approached Cisco who’d found a patch of grass to nibble on. The sooner he got Miss Annalisa mystery woman off this mountain and into someone else’s care, the easier he could breath.

“You know how to mount? One foot in the stirrup. Throw the other over. I’ll give you a boost. You take care of the arm.”

She nodded and with a gritty determination given her condition, stuck a foot in the stirrup and hopped. Austin leaned in to help, a hand beneath her free foot, the other ready to brace her back. The scent of perfume, definitely not the cheap stuff, but mysterious like her, contrasted with the earthy, wetness of the falls. He did his best not to notice, but the fragrance reminded him of something. Something he’d put out of his mind long ago.

He clenched his teeth against the fantasy, hoisted her other foot and put her into the saddle as gently as possible. She was light if leggy, tall enough to reach his stirrups. And he was no small fry.

Annalisa’s face paled with the movement. She bit back a groan. A small one, but he heard it.

“Easy,” he said, feeling like a heartless slug for hurting her. If he wouldn’t have been thinking of her long legs and heady scent, he could have been more careful.

Yeah, and if that sorry calf hadn’t gotten out, he wouldn’t be here in the first place with his sixth sense screaming like a banshee.

Ifs didn’t mean much in Austin’s vocabulary. If life was as it should be, he’d still be in Texas.

He took Cisco’s reins and tossed them over the saddle horn. In quick, efficient movements he swung into the saddle in front of his guest, taking care not to jar her. Annalisa leaned back, away from contact.

Austin shifted in the saddle to look at her. “Brace your bad arm against my back and give me your other.”

She hesitated, clearly not wanting to touch him. Well, too stinkin’ bad. He didn’t want her falling off.

“One broken arm is enough,” he barked. She flinched, eyes widening.

He grabbed her good hand and slapped it against his rib cage. With a tsk and slight tightening of his knees, he set Cisco on an easy walk through the trees.

Behind him, Annalisa was as stiff as new leather.

What was up with this lady?

Chapter Two

Annalisa curled her fingers into the rough brown duck of the cowboy’s jacket, lips stiff from trying to stifle the moans of pain. Jostling on the back of a horse wasn’t helping her arm or any of the other places she hurt.

Austin Blackwell frightened her with his dark scowls and sharply barked words, although he didn’t seem the violent type. But neither had James when they’d first started dating.

She darted a quick look around, nerves jittery. The forest was gorgeous, a tapestry of rich color and scent, flush with autumn sun. If she’d not been in pain and wasn’t constantly on the alert for James, she could have enjoyed the ride.

When was the last time she’d been on a horse?

The animal—Cisco, he’d called the bay—had a smooth stride, his muscular body easily handling two passengers. She wasn’t sure where they were headed, but the horse knew.

“Is this the way to the hospital?”

The cowboy tilted his white hat forward as if signaling something up ahead. “We’ll take my truck.”

They crested a rise and then started down an incline into a small valley. In the center of clear pasture land, with no other houses around, sat a long, low ranch-style house and a number of outbuildings. Three dogs bolted from the porch, tails wagging, barking a chorus of excited welcome. There was a black lab, some kind of big shaggy shepherd with white eyebrows and...an apricot poodle?

“Shut up!”

Annalisa tensed at the cowboy’s command. He twisted toward her. “Not you. Them.”

She knew that, and yet she’d jumped.

They rode directly to the porch, a structure that ran the length of the red brick house and was railed by rough cedar. A broom leaned against the railing. Someone had planted a big pot of yellow mums next to the door. Annalisa eyed the cowboy. His wife, perhaps?

With the quick, lithe movements she’d noted before, he dismounted and then lifted her easily to the ground. He was big and gruff, but his touch was deceivingly gentle. She’d yet to categorize him other than cowboy. Faded jeans, brown duck jacket and a white hat. And of course, the horse. She had the ridiculous thought that good guys wear white hats. Ridiculous indeed, considering her poor ability to judge men.

Austin Blackwell. Nice name for a cowboy. A pretty big guy with shoulders wide enough to handle a calf, he was around her age. From riding at his back, she knew that he was solid muscle.

She shivered. A big, dangerous man who’d been none too happy about finding her on his land. She slid a subtle glance toward him. He’d started toward the porch, only to be met by the dog trio.

The three groveled around his boots, and the white-browed shepherd bared its teeth in a comical smile of welcome while the poodle pranced on hind legs in a dance of joy. In spite of her throbbing arm, Annalisa smiled, too. Austin dropped a work-gloved hand to the highest head and scratched while the other two butted up against his legs, waiting their turn.

“Truck’s there.” He motioned toward the side of the house to a truck shed. Under an awning sat a white late-model Ford with big wheels flecked with mud. “I’ll grab the keys and we’ll go see the doc.”

He tromped up the steps, taking a minute to stomp his boots on a black welcome mat before disappearing inside.

Panic welled in Annalisa’s throat, a knot she couldn’t swallow. She was suddenly aware of how much the cowboy’s presence eased her anxiety. Now, alone in the open yard, terror rushed in.

Pulse tripping wildly, her breath quickened as she hurried to the white truck and tried the side door. It was unlocked. She clambered inside, slammed the door and slapped at the lock with shaky fingers. Still, her heart raced as wildly as if she’d run all the way from the waterfall.

She leaned her head against the tall seat, shut her eyes and breathed in the scent of new leather from an air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. “Lord, if you’ll help me find a way out of this mess, I promise—”

The driver’s door opened. Annalisa spun toward the sound. The movement sent shock waves from her shoulder to her wrist. Instinctively she curled inward and grimaced.

“Easy.” The cowboy’s light green gaze steadied her.

Before he could step up into the driver’s seat, the apricot poodle jumped onto the long bench beneath the steering column.

“Get down, you wiggling wad of Brillo.” Face stern, Austin moved to one side and pointed toward the ground. Even though the poodle withered in dejection, her little fuzzy tail worked overtime. The cowboy’s voice gentled. “Go on, Tootsie. Get down. You can’t go this time.”

Resigned, the dog obeyed. On the way out, the “Brillo pad” lifted up on her hind legs to swipe a tongue across Austin’s face. The cowboy grunted, shaking his head as he climbed into the truck. Annalisa was almost sure the corners of his mouth quivered with affection.

Keys rattled and the truck engine roared to life. Austin adjusted the shifter, but as they backed out of the carport, a dark green Nissan whipped into the driveway and stopped. A woman in blue scrubs with a curly black ponytail strode toward Austin’s side of the truck.

Curiosity curled in Annalisa’s belly. Was this the wife?

Austin lowered his window. With a jerk of his chin toward Annalisa he said, “Found this lady at the falls. I’m taking her to see Dr. Ron.”

The woman narrowed moss green eyes at Annalisa. “What happened?”

“I fell.” The lie was easier this time.

“The mountain trails are good for that. Anything I can do?” The last question was for Austin.

“You can cook something.”

“So can you.” The woman laughed, dimples flashing in a longish face. “I was asking if there is anything I can do for her.” She stuck her head through the window, stretching past Austin. “By the way, I’m Cassie. My big brother has no social skills.”

An odd trickle of interest shifted over Annalisa as she introduced herself to Cassie. The sister, not the wife.

“Are you a nurse?”

Teeth flashed as Cassie laughed. “A hairdresser, but I know a bum arm when I see one. You need an X-ray. By the way, you have great hair. I’d love to get my hands on it.”

Annalisa’s fingers flew to the dark blond mass of thick, shoulder-length waves. Inwardly she smirked at the vain reaction. Even an injury didn’t stop a woman from enjoying a compliment. “Thank you.”

Cassie tapped Austin on the shoulder with a fist. “Get going. She’s in a lot of pain.” By now the three dogs were hopping around the sister. “Bring us a pizza. I’m in no mood to cook.”

Austin groaned. “You brought pizza last night.”

“So I like pizza.”

“And hate to cook.”

Cassie picked up the poodle and waved his paw. “Burgers, then. With fries and pies. Apple.”

Austin didn’t argue. He put the gear in Reverse and headed away from the ranch.

“How far?”

“To the doc’s?” He glanced toward her and back to the bumpy gravel road. “About ten minutes.”

With an acknowledging nod, Annalisa braced her arm against her chest, leaned back against the headrest and prayed that James had gone on without her.

* * *

Austin whipped the truck into the parking spot marked “Physicians Only” and killed the motor in front of Johnson’s Medical Clinic. Dr. Ron Johnson’s maroon Jeep was in the lot and he was the only physician for twenty-five miles. Austin figured the two extra physician parking spots outside the office were wishful thinking on the part of the overzealous town council.

The town was like that these days, optimistic in the face of a lousy economy. Mayor Fairchild, whom everyone called Rusty, had asked the churches to pray, a request that had a handful of folks up in arms over the separation of church and state issue. Austin figured praying didn’t hurt anything. It just didn’t help.

He hustled around the truck to open the door for Annalisa, something she was already struggling to do on her own. He helped her out and led the way up on the sidewalk and into the small, modern clinic. Inside, the usual scent of antiseptic cooled the air.

At the receptionist’s window, Austin jerked a thumb toward Annalisa. “Got an injured woman here. Dr. Ron available?”

“I’ll tell him, Austin. You all sit down and fill out this mess of papers.” She stuck a clipboard across the divider. “I’ll only be a jiff.”

“Thanks, Wilma.”

Austin handed the clipboard to Annalisa along with a pen, but his restlessness wouldn’t let him sit in one of the brown vinyl chairs. Coming into town was not a favorite activity, and usually when he did, he kept to the basics—the Farm and Ranch Store, groceries, gas. An injured woman raised suspicions, and he did not want anyone asking questions.

True to her word, the bun-haired Wilma returned in a jiff to motion them toward an exam room. Dr. Ron waited inside, drying his hands on paper towels. Close to forty, the doc looked half that because of his boyish freckles and the cowlick torturing his sandy hair. He tossed the towels in a levered can and gestured to the exam table.

“Who’s sick?” One quick look at Annalisa and then the chart Wilma poked at him and he said, “Never mind. What happened?”

Annalisa cast a troubled glance at Austin. “I fell.”

Austin saw the worry hanging on her like a baggy shirt. She knew he didn’t believe her story and probably wanted him gone. Which he should be. Feeling a little chagrined to have followed a stranger into an exam room in the first place, he said, “I’ll wait outside, but I want to talk to the doc when you’re done.”

Dr. Ron met his gaze and nodded. “Sure thing. Now young lady, you hop right up here and let’s have a look at that arm.”

Austin heard the latter as he exited the room. There was a lot Annalisa wasn’t saying. Even though it was none of his business, Austin figured the doc should know his suspicions.

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall beside the door. Wilma whipped past, leading the way for a woman and a flush-faced, coughing child. Austin figured if a man stood here all day he’d catch every disease known to medicine.

A few minutes later, the wooden door swung open and Dr. Ron sent Annalisa down the hall with an assistant for an X-ray. Austin joined the doctor inside the exam room and shut the door.

“I think she’s lying,” he blurted.

Water sprayed as Dr. Ron washed his hands yet again in the strong-scented soap. “How did you get involved?”

Austin’s gut tightened. Was the doc accusing him of something? “I found her.”

A freckled eyebrow lifted. “You don’t know her? She’s not a friend or relative?”

Anxiety pushed from Austin’s gut to his throat. When he’d brought her here, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He’d never considered that someone might point a finger at him. He rolled the brim of his hat between nervous fingers. “Never saw her before today. She was at Whisper Falls. Or rather under it.”

“Praying?” The doc’s lips twitched, but the humor didn’t reach his serious blue eyes.

“Probably. She was running from something or someone. She claims she was hiking, but I don’t believe her. Take a look at her shoes and clothes.”

“Could she have fallen while traipsing over the falls to pray?”

Austin barked a sarcastic laugh. “Did you notice the red marks on her throat?”

The doc raised both eyebrows in insult. The cowlick quivered. “If I hadn’t I should find another occupation.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Dr. Ron spread his palms. “Nothing I can do. She’s a grown woman, not a child. If she says she fell, I have to take her word for it. She might be telling the truth, although like you, I don’t think the bruises came from a tumble on the rocks. The broken arm, however, very well may have.”

“Maybe.” Austin patted his hat impatiently against his leg. Dr. Ron was a good sort. He’d treated Austin when a horse stumbled with him, and he’d stitched him up a couple of times. He was trustworthy. “She’s scared of something, Doc. Jumpy as a grasshopper. I think someone hurts her.”

Dr. Ron pressed his freckled lips together in silent consideration before saying, “I’ll push a little harder for details, Austin, but if she wants to keep the whole truth to herself, I can’t force it out of her.”

At that moment, Wilma and Annalisa came out of the X-ray room and headed toward them.

Knowing the doc was right didn’t make Austin like the answer any better. Grumbling under his breath, he slapped his hat against his leg. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

* * *

Annalisa sat perfectly still while the doctor wound wet cast material from her wrist to her biceps.

“Wear this for three weeks and then you get the grand prize,” the amiable doctor said, “a shorter waterproof version of this dandy little number.”

She stared dubiously at her forearm, frozen at a right angle. “When will I be able to move my elbow?”

“After this one comes off. Fortunately all the bones are aligned or you’d be on your way to Hot Springs to an orthopedist. All we have to do is keep the bone as still as possible for it to heal properly, and you should be as good as new.”

She shuddered at the memory of James’s strong hands and the loud pop as he intentionally rotated her arm until she screamed. The gleam in his eyes, the bulging veins in his neck. The fury.

She squeezed her eyes tight, scared just thinking about him. God, I never want to see James Winchell again. Show me what to do.

Dr. Ron’s gentle voice jerked her to attention. “I’m a doctor, Miss Keller. Anything you tell me is confidential. If you need help...”

He let the offer dangle while he completed the wrap and pressed his palms against the drying cast. Heat penetrated through the padding.

The doctor knew she hadn’t fallen, or at least he suspected.

She wanted to tell someone about the abuse, but shame held her back. Shame and the knowledge that she was responsible. She’d broken off the relationship once and been foolish enough to let James back into her life. She’d believed his promises and accepted his explanations. He was under stress at work. She’d provoked him. It wouldn’t happen again.

But it had.

Annalisa lowered her lashes. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

Dr. Ron was silent for a couple of beats while he scribbled on her chart.

“Wilma will have some instructions for you on cast care and problems to look out for.” He ripped a piece of paper from a pad and handed her a prescription. “Austin will take you by the pharmacy to get this pain medicine filled. Take one if you need it, every four hours for pain. Nights are usually the worst.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Annalisa slid off the slick, paper-covered table and went to the door.

“Call if you need anything,” he said, serious eyes boring into her as if he knew everything she’d been through. “Anything at all.”

Annalisa understood his implication. With a nod, she hurried out.

In the waiting room, the cowboy sat scrunched in a chair, one boot crossed over the opposite knee and his pale green gaze glued to the hall leading to the exam rooms.

When he spotted her, he unfolded his length from the small chair and stood. An imposing man, he was tall, and dark as a thundercloud with shoulders as wide as a quarterback’s.

One look at her casted arm and his mouth curved. “Lime green?”

From somewhere she found an answering smile and lifted the cast higher. It weighed a ton. “I’m a fashion diva.”

“Yeah, we get a lot of calls for those in Whisper Falls,” he said wryly, and she wasn’t sure if he joked or not. “Where to from here?”

She held out the prescription, feeling like a bum. She’d imposed on this man enough, but what else could she do? This wasn’t exactly familiar terrain. “Do you know where a pharmacy is?”

“Not a pharmacy. The pharmacy. Jessup’s. Like Dr. Ron’s clinic, the only one in town.”

Annalisa followed broad shoulders to his truck, grateful that this man had been the one to find her in the woods. A little taciturn, he was a take-charge kind of guy who saw what needed doing and did it. Maybe she should worry about that, but right now, she had no choice except gratitude.

As she got into his truck for the second time that day, a troubling thought struck her.

“Oh, no,” she breathed, fingers pressed to her lips in dismay.

“What?” Austin hooked an arm over the steering wheel and shifted in her direction.

“I can’t fill the prescription.” She swallowed, gut fluttering with a new anxiety. Her situation had just become more dire.

Black eyebrows dipped. “Why not?”

“I—I must have lost my handbag when I fell.” A total lie. James had her purse in his car. When he’d shoved her out, she’d had no time to grab anything. Her phone, her money, her ID. Everything was in her purse. In time she could replace most of it, but that didn’t get her beyond this very awkward moment.

“You’re saying you don’t have any money?”

A flush of heat rushed up her neck and burned her cheeks. “Not at the moment. I have money back in...at home. Just not with me.”

Intelligent and already suspicious, he jumped on her slip of the tongue. “Back where, Annalisa? You’re not from Whisper Falls, so where’s your car? Where’s your hiking gear? People don’t just drop out of the sky and start hiking through miles of woods and hills to a waterfall in sissy shoes like that.” He gave her feet a scathing glare.

Acid burned in her stomach. Like the doctor, the cowboy was no fool, and her story was as thin as nylon.

“Forget the prescription. I’ve been too much bother already. Please, just take me to the nearest hotel.”

“How you gonna pay for that?”

She opened her mouth, only to shut it again. How indeed? The receptionist at the doctor’s office had taken her insurance information on nothing but faith in her promise to scan and send the card at a later date. She doubted a hotel would be as forgiving.

“I don’t know.” She pressed a hand to the dull headache drumming at her temples. “I’ll think of something. Let me think a minute.”

The cowboy apparently hadn’t a minute to spare because he started the engine and aimed the truck down the narrow, curving street. She had no idea where they were going and at the moment, didn’t care. She was stuck in the rural Ozarks without a dime or a credit card or a checkbook. And calling James to retrieve those items was out of the question.

She would rather live under that waterfall for the rest of her life and eat bugs.

Annalisa leaned her throbbing, hot head against the side window. Her whole face ached and she wondered if bruises were starting to appear. James was usually more careful. A slap here or there or cold intimidation, but not all-out battering.

She shivered and pressed closer to the door. An angry man was a powerful thing. And no matter how hard she’d tried, she’d not been always been able to pacify James.

Annalisa vowed not to make Austin Blackwell angry.

With a furtive glimpse at his dark, solemn profile, she wondered if she already had.

She’d gotten herself in this predicament. Now what? She could use her phone-a-friend option, but her friends were also James’s. They all considered him the catch of the day. Somewhere in their eight-month dating history, he’d steered her toward people in his circle and away from hers.

Unshed tears pushed at the back of her eyelids. If she had a family to rely on. If she wasn’t so terribly alone. If she hadn’t made such a mess of things.

Regrets. So very many regrets. What a fool she’d been to bend to James’s every whim, even to the point of drifting away from her church. God, forgive me.

Shame was an ugly companion.

Holding back frustrated tears, she focused on the streets of Whisper Falls and tried to think of anything but her predicament. The town was small with only a long strip of businesses on either side of about five blocks. The buildings were old, probably turn of the last century, and many had been renovated into darling shops. In other circumstances, she would have explored Auntie’s Antiques, Sweets and Eats, the old brick train station. A spired courthouse with a long pillared porch was fronted by the statue of a soldier and a tall granite memorial to Vietnam vets. The list of names engraved on the onyx plaque both stunned and saddened her. Whisper Falls may be small, but it had given of its best.

Some of the buildings were run-down, but perky rust and yellow mums in giant pots trimmed the street corners and proclaimed an effort to spruce things up. On one small lot between the Tress and Tan Salon and the Expresso Yourself Coffee Shop was an open area made into a concrete park. In the center perched a gazebo bracketed by two cement benches and more of the giant flowerpots filled with mums, a splash of vibrant color on a sunny day.

Whisper Falls was a town torn between the old and the new, the run-down and the revitalized. And she liked it.

With a start Annalisa realized they’d reached their destination—a pharmacy recessed into the walls of an old brick building but with modern plate glass along the front.

She lifted her face from the cool window to look at the cowboy. “I told you—”

“Give me the prescription.”

“You don’t have to...”

With a warning scowl, he took the paper from her fingers, slammed out of the truck and went inside a double glass door. Fancy script proclaimed Jessup’s Pharmacy alongside a stenciled mortar and pestle in black silhouette. The old red brick was a beauty with 1884 engraved on the gingerbread top and a turquoise tiled entry from the sidewalk to the doors.

A pair of women about her age entered the pharmacy behind Austin. One pushed a baby stroller. An older couple passed by, the man treading patiently beside a bent, crippled woman using a walker. Once, the tiny gray woman grinned up at her man, a flash of flirtation that touched Annalisa.

She watched the come and go of locals, noting the ease and simplicity of friendly folks greeting one another. A teenager opened a door for a woman. A skipping girl dropped a handful of change and when the coins flew in every direction, a family of three stopped to help. Car doors slammed and voices called out greetings. No one seemed angry or stressed or too busy to say hello.

A deep yearning pulled at the empty spaces inside her. Did places like this really exist anymore? Did anyone’s family remain intact? Did a man and woman have a chance of growing old together?

She was still pondering that question when the cowboy emerged from the pharmacy and came toward her. Some bizarre emotion—relief, confusion, attraction—bubbled up. Attraction? Where had that come from?

Austin opened the truck door and tossed a white paper sack onto the seat. Pills inside clicked together as paper rustled.

A battle raged inside Annalisa. The need for help warred with the need to get out of the truck and stop imposing on a stranger. An attractive stranger.

“Thank you. I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”

“Forget it.” He sat there for a full minute, staring through the windshield at the pharmacy.

Struggling with the uncomfortable notion that some twisted portion of her brain found any man attractive, Annalisa clutched the pharmacy sack like a life preserver. He’d rescued her from the woods, taken her to the doctor, bought her medication. Now what? Where did she go from here?

Chapter Three

To her credit, his sister hadn’t beeped a word of surprise when Austin returned to the ranch with burgers, fries and Annalisa Keller in tow. He was glad. He was no mood to explain his annoying need to make sure Annalisa was all right, particularly because he had no explanation other than sympathy. The woman was in a fix, and even if she was liar, she was injured, alone and penniless.

He hoped he wasn’t harboring a fugitive.

With the scent of fresh burgers and fried apple pies tantalizing the kitchen, the three congregated around the wooden table and fell upon the food like starving cougars.

From behind his burger, Austin watched Annalisa and pondered. She was kick-in-the-gut pretty, probably late twenties like Cassie and as anxious as he was. He wished he wasn’t so intrigued.

“Still got a calf out there somewhere,” he said, more to get his mind off the mysterious woman than because he worried about the calf.

“Too dark to go after her now,” Cassie said. “Maybe her mama will bawl her home.”

“Hopefully.” At first light, he’d be out searching. He’d be on the lookout for other things, too.

“Were you hunting for the calf this afternoon,” Annalisa asked, “when you...found me instead?”

Her worried expression made Austin want to reassure her. He didn’t know why. Nothing about this day made sense. “Calves get out all the time.”

She hadn’t said much other than a thousand thank-yous that were starting to set his teeth on edge. He didn’t want thanks. He wanted her to go away so he could stop worrying about her.

But if she did, he’d worry more. What if she was in trouble? What if she was like Blair...

He put the brakes on that runaway train. Annalisa Keller was a stranger who would be gone as soon she finished that jumbo, everything-piled-inside burger. He didn’t know where she’d go, but she was going. End of subject.

In a dainty motion that enthralled him, the woman on his mind folded the carryout paper napkin in tidy thirds and patted her mouth. The action inadvertently drew Austin’s attention to the shape and curve of bowed lips and to the pale strain pulling the corners down. Her upper lip was still puffy but nothing like before. The red streaks on her throat had faded, as well. Whatever had happened was fresh when he’d found her at the waterfall.

She’d had a tough day. The protective male in him wanted to do something to make things better, but how could he when she wouldn’t tell the truth? He gnawed the edge of his burger, amazed at his line of thinking. Something about this woman got to him, and that was dangerous.

Her hair, wet from the waterfall, had dried and apparently Cassie had loaned her a brush because the golden blond waves curved neatly to her shoulders. Two thick, lazy curls framed her forehead and bracketed her cheekbones and eyes. Again, he noted the strain and the beginnings of bruises on her cheek and temple.

“You look pretty rough,” he said. “Exhausted, too.”

“Austin!” Cassie scolded. “No girl wants to hear that.”

“Well, look at her.”

Annalisa’s gaze moved back and forth between the brother and sister. “I am a little tired. If I could impose on you for a ride to a shelter or a hostel...”

“What are you talking about, girl?” Cassie laid aside her burger and reached out to pat Annalisa’s arm. “Tomorrow is soon enough to worry about that. You’ve been through too much for one day. You’re staying right here tonight, isn’t she, Austin?”

Austin choked on a French fry. He’d been thinking more like renting her a hotel room. “I—uh—”

“Of course she is.” Cassie threw down her napkin and rose. “Annalisa, if you’re finished eating, come with me, and I’ll show you the guest room. Once you get some rest, everything will look much better.”

As if she had no argument left in her, Annalisa took the white pharmacy bag from the table and followed Cassie.

Still sputtering, Austin watched in sheer dread as his sister ushered a total stranger down the hall and out of sight. A stereotypical hairdresser, Cassie was a people person with a real knack for listening and counseling. She probably knew more about the citizens of Whisper Falls than anyone. And if she’d decided to pry into Annalisa’s personal life, she would.

Cows and horses and hay meadows Austin could control. Like women in general, his sister was out of his league.

He could hear Cassie’s chatter, like a tour guide, talking about towels and extra blankets and one of his T-shirts. His brain skittered to a stop. Cassie was loaning Annalisa one of his T-shirts?

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. That was not an image he wanted to entertain.

Stuffing the rest of the burger in his mouth, he got up to clean the kitchen. Cassie managed to get out of cooking and cleaning most nights. She might be a good listener, but she despised housework.

By the time Cassie returned, humming as if she’d done her good deed for the day, Austin was elbow-deep in soap suds.

“You should buy us a dishwasher,” she said blithely. It was an ongoing discussion between them.

“I don’t mind washing dishes. Grab a towel.”

“You are so weird.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a towel. “Guys don’t like doing dishes.”

Austin lifted a handful of suds and let them slide through his fingers. “Suds therapy. Keeps me from throttling my sister.”

She sniffed and tossed her head. “You need some kind of therapy.”

He flipped suds at her. “Is this your night to insult your big brother? Don’t forget, I brought the burgers. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“True.” Cassie swirled the towel around a red plate. “I like her.”

“Who?”

She rolled her eyes. “Annalisa. She seems nice.”

“She’s hiding something.”

Glass clattered as Cassie opened the cabinet and slid dishes inside. “You like her, too. I saw you watching her.”

“Don’t even go there. I was watching her because she’s a liar, and I’m a suspicious man.”

Cassie ignored him, something she did on a regular basis. “I invited her to stay with us for a few days until she gets things figured out.”

Austin’s hands clenched around a fork. Tines poked him. “You did what?”

“You heard me. And don’t act all surprised. You’re the one who brought her here. Twice.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

In a quiet tone, Cassie nailed him. “Neither does she.”

Austin wrestled with his conscience. He was as sympathetic as the next person, but having Annalisa under his roof more than one day bothered him. A lot.

“Something’s way off base with this woman, Cassie. Why won’t she explain herself?”

“Maybe she has a good reason. Maybe she’s scared. Maybe she’s not sure who she can trust.”

He’d wondered about that. “Did you notice that she’s never asked to call anyone? She has no personal effects, nowhere to go. What if she’s a criminal or worse?”

“What could be worse?”

“There’s worse, and you know it.” He shot her a meaningful look.

“Austin,” she said gently.

“Don’t want your sympathy, Cassie. I want your cooperation. For once, agree with me on something.” Taking in a troubled woman was setting himself up for a fall he couldn’t take. Not again. Irritation edging toward fear, Austin rinsed a plate and shoved it toward his nosy sister. “Something is way out of line, and I don’t want to be involved.”

He’d bought this ranch out in the middle of nowhere for a reason. He wanted peace, quiet and solitude. He’d wanted to be as far away from speculation and suspicion as humanly possible.

Adding a lying stranger with a broken arm to the mix wouldn’t work.

“You can’t hide from people forever, Austin. Life goes on.”

He jerked the plug from the drain. Water gurgled. “Don’t go there.” There were some things he didn’t talk about, even to Cassie. “This is my house and I said no. Tomorrow she goes.”

“Where?”

“That’s her business. Not yours. Not mine.”

His sister slapped a hand on the counter. “She’s staying. She’s broke and injured—a soul in need. God sent her to us.”

He scoffed in the back of his throat. “I don’t believe that garbage.”

“Your unbelief doesn’t change the truth.” Cassie stood perfectly still, an unusual phenomenon, and asked in her sweetest voice, “Come on, Austin, please. Annalisa needs a place to stay for a few days while her arm mends and she figures out...something. We have room. We can help her. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s the something she needs to figure out that bothers me. She should be straight up with us, tell us what’s going on.”

“Maybe she will when she feels more comfortable.”

Her words chafed at him. He didn’t like when his sister was right.

He yanked the towel from the rack to dry his hands. “I don’t like it.”

“You like her. I think that’s the problem. It’s been so long since you’ve noticed a woman—”

Austin spun, pointing a finger. “Three days tops. And then she’s out of here. Got it?”

Cassie shot him a wounded look, lips tight and resentful. “As you said, it’s your house.”

She flounced out of the room as fast as her ladybug slippers could flap against hardwood. Austin watched her go, feeling both victory and defeat.

* * *

He didn’t want her here.

Annalisa leaned against the crack of the bedroom door, listening to the brother and sister conversation. Austin Blackwell wanted her gone. Truth be told, she wanted the same thing.

Whirling, she went to the extension telephone on the cherry dresser and lifted the receiver. Just as quickly she put the instrument down.

Who would she call? Olivia wouldn’t answer. And Annalisa had burned her bridges with Reverend Beaker. Her boss? She laughed a soft, bitter laugh. Her boss was James, the last man she’d ever call. James held the keys to her life. She’d handed him everything and received nothing but sorrow in return. As of today, she was alone, broke and unemployed.

Tormented with regret, she sagged on the side of the bed. Thank God the cowboy and his sister had taken her in. Otherwise, she’d be sleeping under a tree, cold and hurt and alone.

Her body ached all over, even her scalp where James had held her hair while he’d broken her arm.

She resisted the image. No use reliving the nightmare. He was gone. Hopefully, he’d never look back. He was like that. He’d blow hot and then cold, and if he decided she was too much trouble, he wouldn’t give her a second thought. He’d find another woman by tomorrow.

The painful truth shamed her further. How had she let herself get involved with a man like James Winchell? How could she have loved a man who showed so little care and respect for her?

Annalisa knew the answer and she didn’t like it—a woman who didn’t respect herself.

She pushed a hand through her hair. No use dwelling on James tonight. She roamed aimlessly around the tidy room, wondering about the owners. Friendly Cassie with the red lipstick and ebony hair who’d insisted she stay against Austin’s wishes. Austin. Rugged, handsome cowboy. Gruff and aloof, he both scared and fascinated her.

Would she never learn?

A breath of frustration and fatigue stirred the air.

Nothing fancy here in the Blackwells’ guest room, but homey and pleasant. Sage walls and white woodwork. A cherry sleigh bed covered in a beige-and-brown quilt and piled high with pillows. A red throw tossed over an easy chair next to the double windows.

Annalisa went to the window and gazed out. The night was deep and black. Except for the stars and moon, only the single floodlight near the barn shed any light. Quiet. Peaceful. Yet the silence made her jittery.

Cast pressed to her side, she tried wiggling her fingers as the doctor had ordered. Her arm hurt but not as bad as she’d expected. The pain pill she’d taken had started to make her sleepy.

From the kitchen she caught the rise and fall of voices. Male and female. Austin Blackwell didn’t like her but he’d helped her. She didn’t understand him. But then, she clearly didn’t understand men in general.

Though tempted, she didn’t listen in on their conversation again. Tomorrow she’d figure out what to do. One thing for certain, she could not go back to California. At least not for a while. She couldn’t go home to Kansas, either. Not until she was strong enough, brave enough, healthy enough to face her regrets and start over alone.

A knot of longing filled her with an ache greater than the one in her arm.

Fresh from an awkward, one-handed bath, she lay down on the fluffy pillow, remembering her conversation at the doctor’s office. Dr. Ron had said people prayed beneath the falls expecting an answer. Was that true? Did God work that way?

She thought again of the thunderous waterfall and her whispered, desperate prayer for help, for change, for some intangible she knew was missing in her life.

Had God been listening?

As she fell asleep, she prayed again, hoping with all her heart that the story was true.

* * *

The next morning, inside the warm confines of the barn and surrounded by dust motes and the welcome smell of green hay, Austin unsaddled his horse. Hoss, the shepherd, and Jet, the graying black lab, flopped in the sunshine just inside the entryway, tongues wagging. The prissy poodle was probably still curled up in her blanket on Cassie’s bed.

Austin and the two real dogs, as he called them, had been up since six riding the ridge and woods, checking fence and searching for a stray calf that didn’t want to be found. He’d also been searching for Annalisa’s missing handbag. He’d found neither.

Blue-and-rust swallows fluttered against the rafters, chattering their squeaky song like a dozen annoyed chipmunks. A feather floated down from above. Cisco snorted and jostled to one side. Austin rubbed a soothing hand down the horse’s withers and welcomed the animal warmth. Even in his jacket, he was chilled this fall morning.

He was chilled in his soul, too. Having a woman of questionable circumstance under his roof made him nervous. He’d laid awake half the night wondering about her.

The morning ride, though, had been beautiful. He’d seen deer and coyotes and turkey and a sunrise that had made him stop on the high ridge and watch as a navy blue sky gave way to pink and gold and flame.

Still, it had been a wasted three hours.

Dogs circling his legs, Austin led the horse from the barn into the corralled lot and turned him loose. The other horses lifted their muzzles, winding their friend. Cisco moseyed away to stick his regal head in the feeder and have breakfast.

Austin’s belly rumbled in response. He was ready for breakfast, too, his single cup of coffee a distant memory.

He crossed the backyard and stepped on the porch. A bacon scent greeted him as he opened the door into the kitchen. He paused, confused for a second. Cassie left for work at eight and besides, she never cooked breakfast—or anything else for that matter.

Annalisa, a spatula in her good hand, stood at the cook stove frying bacon. Tootsie sat at her feet, fuzzy peach face upturned in eager anticipation. At his entrance, Annalisa glanced over one shoulder. Austin’s stomach went south.

Hunger could do that to a man, he thought, annoyed that the reaction might be anything else.

“What are you doing?” She was a guest. A hurt guest. She shouldn’t be cooking.

Her smile was tentative—pretty, though, in the way it lifted beneath her cheekbones and pushed up the corners of her long, mysterious eyes. She’d carefully draped her hair around the edge of her face, but he still saw the shadow of a bruise from temple to cheek. Saw it and tensed.

“I noticed the bacon on the counter and thought...” The blue eyes skittered from him to the frying pan. “I don’t know. Maybe Cassie put it there.”

“Cassie doesn’t cook.” He’d laid the meat out to thaw, expecting to fry his own breakfast.

Her gaze snapped back to his. “I figured out that much for myself. Are you hungry? This is almost done.”

Austin shifted on his boots. The situation was awkward to say the least. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing anyone all day and that’s the way he liked it. Conversation at nine in the morning was not welcome, and he was lousy at it anyway.

More than that, Annalisa made him uncomfortable, made him fight some irrational inner desire to go out on a limb. To do something stupid.

He considered denying his hunger and going back to the barn, but his belly wouldn’t let him. The smell of bacon was a siren song he never refused. Tootsie, the little beggar, agreed. He always fried an extra slice or two for her, although he’d never admit such weakness to Cassie.

“I’ll make fresh coffee.”

“Already did.” She hitched her chin toward the pot, dark with fresh brew.

Shucking his coat and hat, Austin poured a cup and sipped. “Good coffee.”

You would have thought he’d given her a ribbon at the state fair. She beamed at him over the popping bacon. “I wasn’t sure...”

She didn’t seem sure of anything much. Just like him, he thought wryly.

He set his cup aside to pull a carton from the fridge. Tootsie trotted over for a look.

“Eggs?”

She nodded. “How do you like yours?”

“Cooked. However you take yours is fine.” He popped four pieces of bread into the toaster.

They moved around the kitchen in tandem, a surprise to Austin because he was accustomed to being alone and doing everything for himself. The poodle frittered around their feet, staying out of the way but making sure they didn’t forget her.

In minutes, Annalisa set two filled plates on the table.

“Milk or juice?” she asked, sounding like a waitress. Her eagerness provoked a sympathetic response he didn’t want.

“Sit down and eat.” He dragged a lattice-backed chair away from the table and pointed. Annalisa sat. So did he. Tootsie plopped at their guest’s feet. Not his as usual, hers. Like Cassie, the dog had already turned traitor on him.

Fork in hand, he stared at Annalisa across the round table. “You look...better.”

She looked more than better. She looked good. Too good. Other than the shadowy bruise and the arm cast. The swelling was gone from her lip and only a small dark spot remained where her lip had bled. In a set of Cassie’s yellow salon scrubs, she looked like a flower in a sunny field, and her golden hair curved this way and that around her face just begging a man to touch.

“I slept pretty well all things considered.”

He certainly hadn’t. “How’s the arm?”

“Heavy, but not hurting.”

“You didn’t have to do this.” He waved his fork around the table. “Cook, I mean. I fend for myself.”

He leaned down with a piece of bacon to lure Tootsie to his side. She trotted over, plopped on her curly bottom and took the bacon with dainty teeth. Cassie had stuck a red bow next to the dog’s ear, a ridiculous thing that made Tootsie look sillier than usual.

“Breakfast was the least I could do to repay you. You and your sister... I don’t know what I would have done...” She clammed up, focused on her filled plate.

Austin plowed into his breakfast, watching her, thinking. Why didn’t she just come clean?

Finally, she lifted her fork and ate, too.

After a long silence, she put her toast aside and did the trifold napkin trick before dabbing her lips. He tried not to notice those lips, shiny with bacon grease and just the right shade of pink.

“I’ve been thinking about my dilemma,” she started.

He was thinking about the same thing. Only problem, he didn’t know exactly what her dilemma was.

“I looked for your purse.”

She blinked in surprise. “Oh.”

“I didn’t find anything. But you know that, don’t you? I didn’t find the bag because it’s not out there.”

A pink flush crested her cheeks. Her gaze dropped to her plate, but she didn’t respond.

“Look, lady, I don’t know you. I don’t know what your problem is, but lying isn’t the answer.” Tempted to demand she shoot straight or hit the road, he poked a strip of bacon in his mouth. Cassie would have his head if he kicked Annalisa out today. He’d promised three days, and even though he chafed with that knowledge, he’d stick by his word. Three days and no more.

“I could have looked for a month, and I wouldn’t have found your purse, would I?”

When she just sat there, eyes down and silent like a condemned prisoner, Austin got mad. Jaw tight, he raised his voice and growled, “Would I?”

She jerked and pulled her arms in tight against her body. Oversize eyes stood out against a pale face. Tootsie abandoned Austin and rose up to rub her nose against Annalisa’s thigh.

Even a dog was better with women than he was.

In a whisper, Annalisa admitted. “No. I’m sorry.”

Her reaction made Austin angrier. She acted like a kicked dog. She was here on his ranch, eating his breakfast. The least she could do was talk to him.

“Just spit it out. Why were you hiding under Whisper Falls? Why are you alone in a strange place without a car or money or a phone number to call?”

Annalisa sucked in her bottom lip. Her chest rose and fell and Austin had the awful feeling she might tear up. He tightened his grip on the fork. Give him a bucking horse and a kicking cow any day over a crying woman. He shouldn’t have yelled. She was already scared of something.

Reining in his frustration, he lifted a hand in a plea of peace. “I had no right to yell at you. Your business is yours. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

But that awful nagging voice in his head said he couldn’t keep her safe if he didn’t know the enemy. Visions of Blair circled in his brain like vultures waiting to pick at his wounds. Enemies come in all shapes and sizes, some of them within.

A pulse of tension throbbed in the space between Austin and his houseguest. He watched a dozen emotions move over her face and didn’t understand any of them.

As if she needed the contact, Annalisa absently stroked Tootsie’s fuzzy head.

Austin’s arms itched with the need to hold her, to send her demons fleeing. The thought shocked him to the core. He’d vowed never to get that close to a woman again. In less than a day, Annalisa had him thinking insane thoughts.

Yet, the yearning did not subside.

In a voice so low, Austin had to lean in to hear her over the hum of the fridge, she said, “I’ll find another place to stay. Don’t worry about me.”

Too late.

“I said you could stay here for a day or two.”

“But you don’t want me.”

Oh, yes, he did. The notion came out of nowhere, a notion so bizarre and undesirable that Austin was tempted to run out the door, mount Cisco and ride as far and fast as he could. Right behind the idea came another. Give her money. Send her away.

Yes, that’s exactly what he’d do.

“There are a few bed-and-breakfast places in town. I’ll give you the money. You can pay me later.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Do you have a choice?”

Blue eyes flashed up to meet his. He saw defiance and defeat in the same glance. “Not at the moment.”

“All right, then. It’s settled.” He leaned back, almost sighing with relief. After breakfast she would be out of his life, out of his house. Gone.

Cassie would have a fit.

Annalisa rose and began gathering up the dirty dishes. The poodle followed her.

“Leave those.”

“I want to do them.”

She went to the sink and he followed, noticing then what he hadn’t before. She’d been up a while and she’d been busy. The vacuum cleaner sat next to the broom on one wall. How she’d managed to use either with one arm befuddled him, but she had. The clothes drier buzzed from the utility room, and he realized she’d done laundry, too. That explained the yellow scrubs.

As he put away the butter and jelly, she ran water to wash the dishes. One thing he’d say for her, she might wear sissy shoes, but she wasn’t lazy. Even with one hand, she was willing to earn her keep.

He bumped her out of the way. Dishes with one hand would take too long. He had work to do. “I wash. You dry.”

She didn’t argue but took up a dish towel and waited, leaning her cast on the counter—a splash of lime green against black-and-brown granite. “Do you know any place in town I might find a job?”

Austin frowned. “You’re planning to stay in Whisper Falls?”

“Maybe. It seems to be a nice, quiet town.”

“You have family here?”

She pressed her lips, looked away, moody. “No. No family.”

Odd, he thought, to relocate with no family, no job, no personal belongings. “I can ask around.”

“Thank you.”

He held out a cup and when she reached to take it, he didn’t let go. Her gaze fluttered up, startled, and he saw panic rising.

“What are you afraid of, Annalisa? No one here will hurt you.” He knew as sure as he knew her eyes were the purest blue he’d ever seen, someone had hurt her. “Who did this? Who hurts you? Your husband? Is that it? Are you running from your husband?”

The last part stuck in his craw, a wad thick enough to choke him.

She stared at him across the cup that joined their hands. A tiny muscle twitched beneath her cheekbone. Finally, she licked her lips and whispered, “Boyfriend.”

Austin released the cup along with the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He vacillated between relief that she wasn’t tangled up with an abusive husband and fury at her jerk of a boyfriend.

“He broke your arm and dumped you out at the waterfall?”

“I ran. He pushed me out of the car and tried to...” She bit down on her lip, eyes wide with the painful memory. “I ran into the woods, praying he wouldn’t follow me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t think so. I think he’ll go back to San Diego without me.”

“San Diego?” That explained a few things. His mystery lady was a long way from home.

“We were on our way to a conference in Nashville. James likes to drive, to make a vacation out of business trips.” Her lips twisted. “To rip off the big bosses anytime he can, although he has all of them fooled. I saw the sign about the waterfall and wanted to see it.”

“What happened?”

She lifted one shoulder as if the load she carried was too heavy. “James doesn’t need much to lose his temper. Hopefully, he went on to the conference.”

“But you aren’t sure? He could still be around, maybe in town waiting for you to show up again?”

“Possibly.” Her lip trembled.

Great. Just terrific. “Was this the first time he hurt you?”

“No.” Her face darkened with a fierce determination. “But it’s the last. I won’t go back. I won’t see him again. No matter what he does.”

Rage boiled in Austin’s gut. If he could get his hands on that jerk... “Maybe you should call the cops.”

Not that he wanted anything to do with cops.

Hands raised in a defensive gesture, she jerked back in panic. “No! Please. I can’t. Don’t say anything. I’ll leave here today and won’t bother you again. Only promise you won’t tell anyone, especially the police.”

“A scum like that shouldn’t get away with hurting a woman.”

“The police won’t help. Trust me. I’ve tried.”

In a way, he understood her reluctance. The police weren’t always helpful. Sometimes they were dead wrong.

Austin gazed into her pretty face and saw fear. He heard the tremor in her voice and the desperation.

A heaviness came down around him, a cloak of responsibility and dread. He knew what he was about to do and he didn’t like it one bit.

No matter how much he wanted Annalisa Keller to leave, he couldn’t send her away.

For the next few days or weeks or months, until his conscience would let her go, Annalisa was here to stay.

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