The last thing Hank had wanted was for local law enforcement to get involved in any way. If they dug too deep into his past, they’d come up with questions that would be awkward to answer.
Yes, drastic times called for drastic measures, and the time for drastic measures was quickly approaching.
* * *
THE VOICESstopped her before she left the office for the day. She tiptoed to the door, pressing her ear to the thick wood. Who was in there with her boss? She hadn’t seen anyone enter his office and yet she was certain she heard two distinctly different voices.
Words. Frightening words. Suddenly the door flew open and Colette was running. Down the hallway of the office building, aware of footsteps behind her, she ran with the knowledge she was running for her life.
“Loose lips sink ships.” The words were hissed inher ear and she ran faster…faster.
Her sides ached, her lungs burned with the fever of exertion. When finally she could run no farther, she turned and looked back at her pursuer. She gasped and stumbled backward as she saw Hank astride a huge black horse galloping toward her, his features twisted in rage.
Colette hit the floor with a thud, her hands out in front of her in a gesture of self-defense. For a momentshe remained unmoving in the dawn-lit room, disoriented from the nightmare that had thrown her from her bed.
Damn her mind and its relentless hold on her memory. Like a miser reluctant to share his gold, her mind released memories selfishly in distorted dreams that meant little to her.
And yet this particular dream had become a recurring one. First the overheard conversation, then the chase, finally Hank, the sequence never varied and Colette wondered if somehow the odd dream reflected something of her past.
She pulled herself off the floor, grateful to discover that although her ribs were still sore, they weren’t as bad as they’d been when she went to bed.
After a long, hot shower, she studied her reflection in the mirror, surprised to find the tenderness at the back of her skull and the bruise on her forehead the only apparent remnants of yesterday’s trauma. That, and an abiding awareness of danger surrounding her.
Once she was dressed, she walked over to Brook’s crib. Her heart ached as she gazed at her baby who had no father. Would whomever was after her succeed? Leaving Brook an orphan?
She closed her eyes, for a moment fighting down the panic that crawled up in her throat. Maybe she should leave here, take Brook and run. She thought of Hank and his suggestion that she leave with him. How could she trust him? She knew nothing about him, didn’t even know if she could believe what little he’d told her about the night they’d supposedly spent together.
No, she was better off here with Abby and Belinda.She’d be crazy to try to run with Brook in tow, hiding from an unknown killer for an unknown reason.
After changing Brook and giving her a bottle, Colette returned to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
“I’ll never allow it. It’s just not going to happen.” Abby’s voice, filled with tension, drifted out from the kitchen.
Colette entered to find her sister on the phone. “Why now? Why after all these years?” Abby didn’t seem to notice Colette’s presence as she paced back and forth the distance that the phone cord would allow.
Colette poured herself a cup of coffee, then slid into a chair at the table, wondering who Abby was talking to with such agitation. Colette wrapped her hands around her cup, thinking about her own source of agitation.
Hank. Sleep had been impossible for a very long time after he’d left her room last night. Not only had he stirred her senses on a sensual level, but he’d also stirred more questions about him and his place in her past.
Had he followed her here to the ranch? Was he some kind of deranged stalker? Was it possible he’d arranged her accidents to then be her rescuer and gain her admiration? Sounded crazy, but Colette knew the world was filled with crazy people. Her only concern was whether Hank was one of them.
Or did her near accidents have nothing to do with her past, but instead were products of Billy Sims’s anger?
“And I’m warning you,” Abby’s voice rose angrily, recapturing Colette’s attention. “I won’t haveyou messing up our lives.” She slammed down the receiver, her entire body vibrating with anger.
“Abby?”
She looked at Colette as if surprised to see her sitting at the table. She closed her eyes for a moment, then sank into the chair across from Colette. “I can’t believe it. That was Greg, my ex-husband.”
Colette looked at her in surprise. “What did he want?”
“He’s planning on coming here sometime in the near future. He wants to see Cody.” She released a short, bitter laugh. “He’s decided he wants to be a daddy after all these years. Damn him.” She jumped up, sending her chair crashing to the floor behind her. “I can’t believe the gall of him. Six years without so much as a postcard and now suddenly he wants a relationship with his son.”
“What are you going to do?” Colette asked.
Abby leaned against the counter, like a balloon deflated, anger spent. “I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead, as if trying to ease a headache. “I just don’t want him messing up Cody. Cody doesn’t need Greg’s broken promises in his life.” She shot Colette a half smile. “I’m probably worrying for nothing. If Greg proves true to form, his phone call was just a momentary impulse but he’ll never show up here.” She picked up the chair from the floor, then sat once again. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Like I was run over by a cattle truck during the night,” Colette admitted.
