Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

She was scared, terrified truly. Not being in possession of her right mind. Her brain cloudy. The earth shifting. The sun too bright.

She couldn't recall her own name, where in Montana she currently resided, or how she had tumbled into the handsome cowboy's valley.

The overwhelming feeling that some lady would find her and injure the enthralling cowboy who'd been kind despite her snipping at him, hurling his phone into the lake, and then awkwardly telling him she was drawn to cowboys, was even more terrifying. The cowboy was the only solid, safe place in her spinning world.

She knew the lady, the witch. An aunt? A close neighbor? She could almost conjure piercing blue eyes and a face that looked more plastic than real. An alien? Too far-fetched. Her mind was addled and her imagination invoking horror. She shoved the witch away, not wanting those memories .

She catalogued herself. She wore running shoes and clothes, was battered and unsteady, and had awakened in the midst of this phenomenal scenery. A runner or hiker? She touched the knot on her head, a dull ache radiating from it. She was injured and panicked, afraid of some weird-faced lady. She went back to checking what she had on her person. No identification, no phone, no lip balm even.

Wait. Why did she not have a phone in her possession?

She patted her running pocket. Empty. Relief washed over her. Phones meant you were being monitored. Phones put her and a handsome cowboy stranger in danger.

How did she know that, if she didn't know her own name?

She glanced askance at the cowboy, Cade, as they rode slowly in an open-air utility vehicle on a path around a beautiful lake. They were in the high mountains. The morning air had a crispness to it even with the sun brightly shining. The trees cascading down the gloriously tall mountains were exquisite.

Not as exquisite as the tall, ruggedly handsome, brawny tough man driving her to his home. He must assume she was addled in her mind. She'd thrown his phone into the lake, flirted with him, been standoffish with him, revealed how terrified she was of ‘the witch', and more.

The witch. She could hear a boy's voice calling the terrifying lady a witch and they'd both laughed about it. Quietly. If the witch overheard them laughing, she'd injure the boy. The witch hurt her by hurting the boy. Who was the boy? He was sad, but brave. He took the pain stoically. Why couldn't she see his face?

Would this cowboy take her away from this safe spot? She didn't want to vacate this quiet valley. These mountains surrounding her and this strong cowboy with a gun on his hip could protect her. Unless the witch tortured him like she had the boy. She closed her eyes. A memory was there, but she nudged it away. She couldn't cope with those memories. They were heart-wrenching.

The vehicle stopped next to a two-story, rich-brown wood cabin. A nice stretch of lawn surrounded the cabin with a few shade trees and bushes. The wood pavilion on the side lawn was a nice touch, an outdoor kitchen counter and barbecue grill and outdoor couches under that shade. A large barn and corrals were beyond that.

The cowboy jumped out and hurried around, swinging her half-door open. His warm, firm hand underneath her arm supported her out of the vehicle.

"Careful there," he cautioned, his deep voice thrilling her as much as his touch.

She glanced up into his green eyes. "Green like the forest of trees," she murmured.

He arched an eyebrow, looking dangerously handsome under that cowboy hat. Had she really knocked it off his head? Between that, her snipping at him when he asked her name, and a cell phone that didn't float, she was shocked he was willingly helping her and not at the base level annoyed. She'd only wanted to see those perfect eyes.

"Blue like the mountain lake," he said back, gazing into her eyes.

"I apologize for throwing your phone," she started with. All she wanted to do was gaze into his green eyes while he returned the favor.

He chuckled. Chuckled! It was a melodious sound that washed over her. "Are you now? Why did you chuck it in the lake?"

He didn't seem angry. Nice guy .

"I … I …" How to explain without sounding addled? "Phones can be tracked, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well, then." That seemed to be all the explanation that was necessary. Not being tracked was a high priority.

He peered at her as if she were unstable. "Let's get you inside and sitting down. Have you had breakfast?"

She grunted out a laugh. "You know, I can't seem to remember ."

He chuckled at that too. "Sorry. I'm a bit forgetful myself this morning." The tease in his voice eased the knot in her chest.

"I apologize. I can't seem to relate ." She winked, and they both laughed. It felt really, really good to laugh.

They crossed the stretch of green grass and she glimpsed wildflowers lining the base of the wide front porch. Two rocking chairs sat side by side. She had a vision of her and Cade rocking in those chairs, holding hands, sipping cocoa, laughing and talking, telling stories about … what? She had no stories to tell. The only memories she had were a witch hurting a poor yet strong boy who she cared deeply for. Maybe her life was so horrible she'd blocked the memories out. That was disheartening.

Cade walked her up the porch steps. A two-car garage was to the left, the porch and large front windows of the cabin straight in front of them. He pushed open the wooden front door for her.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Walking inside, she took in a large open area with stairs that led to a second story and a balcony above. A multitude of large windows on each wall provided natural light to the space. The walls were light wood, maybe pine or maple? She didn't know wood names. She didn't know anything currently. That pricked at her with unease, but something about her cowboy and his beautiful valley and home calmed her.

To the direct right was a large living space with a couch, loveseat, two recliners, a pool table, and a television mounted between windows and a rock fireplace between more windows. Steps curved along the far wall to a loft and upstairs area. The left side was a dining area up front and a spacious kitchen in the rear. Kitchen cabinets lined the wall that should connect with the garage. It was the only spot besides the stair section without windows. An open door looked to be a laundry room and bath.

Cade swept his cowboy hat off and set it on a side table. He led her to the kitchen, filled a glass with ice water from a Viking fridge, and handed it to her. She thanked him and drank it in hungry gulps.

He pulled out a plastic sack from a drawer but turned back to her and held out his hand. "Let me refill that for you."

"I'm not incapable, just empty, thank you very much."

He grinned, ruffled his fingers through his dark hair, and nodded. "I'm sorry you're empty."

"I don't believe I can blame you." She winked at him and took great pleasure in the way his cheeks and eyes darkened.

Sauntering to the fridge, she refilled her water and drank more slowly.

Cade brushed close to her. His scent was a mixture of musk, leather, and sunshine. Intoxicating.

She startled.

"Apologies," he murmured. "I need ice. For your head."

"Thank you." Her head was a dull ache, but with all the emptiness and fear, she hadn't focused on it.

She eased back and rested her hip against the gray and white granite counter .

Cade filled the sack with ice, sealed it, and then covered it with a thin white towel. Then he turned, his green eyes focused on her. Lifting the bag, he gently pressed it against her sore forehead. His other palm pressed into the counter, his wrist brushing her hip.

She was frozen. For the moment, this handsome cowboy tenderly caring for her pushed any worries away. Who needed a name? The witch she feared was probably a hallucination. She and Cade could stay here in this remote valley somewhere in Montana for a very long time and nobody would hear her complaining.

"Does that feel all right?" His voice held a husky note that made her stomach quiver.

Did she have experience around handsome men like him? Did she have a boyfriend or a husband even? Nothing but the boy she worried about was ringing a bell, but she didn't harbor any romantic feelings for that boy.

She definitely felt romantic feelings for this cowboy, and she didn't even know him. Was that wrong? Who knew? If her life was an awful mess of a witch hunting her and a poor boy being abused, maybe she should rewrite her life story, starting with this enticing man standing in front of her.

"You feel incredible," she whispered, moistening her lips.

He eased a bit closer, and her heart raced. His hand turned and cupped her hip and waistline. His palms were large and manly, working man hands. They could encompass her entire waist with no effort. She felt safe around him and thrilled by his touch, his proximity, and an understated yearning in his green eyes.

"You don't mince words, do you?"

She smiled at that, setting her glass on the counter beside her. She wanted her hands free … in case these undeniable sparks between them grew. "Usually I am prim and proper."

He grinned. "I'm sure you are. Now you're recalling that prim and proper lady?"

She laughed. "I don't particularly want to at the moment. I don't know if I'd like her very much."

She thought the teasing would pull them apart, but he only moved closer. His chest brushed against her shoulder and a warm tremor ran through her body.

"I think I'd like her," he said. "If I had a chance to get to know her."

Her body thrummed with anticipation. She wanted to get to know him—his past, his future, his talents, hopes, and dreams. Wanted to know what his arms around her would feel like. What his lips fused with hers would feel like.

"Do you believe you will be rewarded with that opportunity?" she whispered, not wanting to break the moment.

He dropped the bag of ice behind her on the counter and cupped her jawline with his hand, his other sliding around to her lower back and urging her closer. "Only if heaven above grants me that blessing."

"Initiate your prayers of gratitude, cowboy," she teased, and then she arched up toward him. She had no idea who she was, but she wasn't going to miss an opportunity to kiss this mesmerizing cowboy.

The sound of a vehicle rumbling over the gravel driveway had Cade yanking away from her. "Apologies," he said, glancing out the window, then back at her. "I got … caught up in the moment."

All the warmth and anticipation faded and disappointment filled her. This hot cowboy regretted their almost kiss and her only regret was that it hadn't occurred.

Truck doors opened and shut, and her feelings shifted like lightning.

The fear returned, and she knew … somebody was after her and they were depraved and murderous. The witch would torture Cade to manipulate her into being obedient. She loathed being obedient. She abhorred the thought of this magnificent cowboy beaten or cut with knives, killed right in front of her to make her do … something.

Cut with knives? Killed? Was she customarily this morbid?

"Please." She grabbed Cade's hand. "We need to hide. She cannot find us."

Cade's eyes widened. Footsteps crunched on the gravel drive. They'd reach the porch soon and be able to see inside. He pointed at the laundry room.

She dashed across the open space and into the dark room, banging her hip into the washing machine. She bit back of cry of pain and listened as loud clops, possibly boots worn by large men, came across the porch, followed by a loud rap on the door. Why hadn't Cade followed her? He was in danger.

"Cade!" a male voice called.

She eased along the washer and found another door. Slipping inside, she felt a wall and then a porcelain sink. She carefully shut the door and sank down to a cool tile floor, leaning against the door. The sounds in the main area were muffled. Cade! What if they killed him, tortured him?

She should've explained to Cade the danger she was putting him in, but how? She didn't know exactly what that danger was. Were the men good or evil? Were they in the witch's employ? Her mind was cloudy, all smoky and forbidding, except for that plastic witch face and blue eyes. With Cade around, her fears and the hole in her mind had been pushed to the back burner.

Would Cade expose her? The witch's men would capture her, and he would put himself in grave danger. Should she dash to his side? Something told her that making her presence known would hurt him instead of help.

She closed her eyes and prayed. Please help him. Please help me.

It felt familiar and comforting.

Prayer was the only thing besides Cade that was solid, real, and wouldn't hurt her.