Chapter 12

12

A gainst a dreary sky and cold wind, Holt made his way to the horse barn in search of AnnaLeigh. Monday was her day off from the shop, and although her car was in the driveway, she wasn't in the house.

"AnnaLeigh," he called as he entered the breezeway.

Something clattered, and then a fair head poked around the entrance of a stall. "In here."

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning."

Weeks had passed since Christmas. New Year's Day had come and gone, leaving behind frigid temperatures and a ton of work for a man in charge of a livestock operation.

Somehow, after his near mistake on Christmas, he and AnnaLeigh had returned to their comfortable agreement. Neither mentioned the moment in the hallway, and he did his best not to get too close, or to think about kissing her. He tried not to even bump against her in the kitchen. Touching her caused an insane reaction, like instantaneous combustion.

Yup. They were doing okay. He'd resolved whatever Christmas insanity had overtaken him. So had she, apparently, though he had to admit she looked prettier every day. She'd filled out a little and the dark circles had disappeared from beneath her eyes.

He liked to think happiness had done that for her.

Striding the length of the horse barn, breathing the familiar musty scents of animals and hay, he looked over the half door into the stall.

Dust floated in the twelve-by-twelve space.

AnnaLeigh straightened, a shovel in one hand, as she pushed a loose strand of hair from her face. A half filled wheelbarrow sat at her side.

"Mucking out stalls?" He unhooked the wooden gate and stepped inside, surprised at what he saw. She'd already cleaned the other side of the foaling unit. "I don't expect you to do this."

He or Zeke, sometimes with Jacey's help, normally kept the stalls clean and ready.

"Last night you mentioned that you'd been too busy, so I thought…" She shrugged. "I'm not working today, the house is clean, so why not?"

Her cheeks were pink. Pretty pink. She was so slender that she looked about sixteen with her hair in a ponytail above a Denver Broncos sweatshirt, yoga pants, and sneakers.

"You'll ruin those shoes. Where are your boots?"

"Are you kidding? Mess up those gorgeous boots? These are washable." She lifted a foot for inspection, eyes sparkling. "Oops."

Holt snorted. "That's more than oops you've got there. Give me that shovel. I'd rather have your good cooking than a clean stall."

He stepped close to take the implement.

"You can have your cake and eat it too, cowboy," she said. "Beef stew in the crock pot. Cornbread ready for the oven."

"As long as I don't have to eat this." He pointed a look at the wheelbarrow.

She giggled, a cute sound that went straight to the center of his chest and lingered there.

He took hold of the shovel and tugged. "I'll do this."

She pulled back. "You have other work to do."

He tugged harder. "I said, I'll do the mucking."

She laughed, and he saw the challenge in her eyes. "I've got this, cowboy. Woman power and all that."

She pulled the shovel again, harder this time. His little wife was surprisingly strong.

"Don't mess with my macho, lady. You're asking for trouble." He handled fifteen-hundred-pound animals every day. "You can't win this tug of war."

"Oh, yeah?" She gave her ponytail a sassy toss. Cute, cute, cute.

He liked this playful side of her. Even if there was nothing romantic between them, he enjoyed her company, liked hearing her laugh, liked arguing with her over silly things like chick flicks versus action movies. And mucking stalls.

AnnaLeigh was fun, a gamer. Kind of like Jacey.

With a playful growl and the beginning of a laugh in his throat, Holt put his strength into the next pull.

AnnaLeigh sailed across the short space and slammed into his chest. The shovel clattered to the dusty floor.

What else could he do? He couldn't let her fall into the muck, too. His arms went around her. His nose buried itself in her hair. All. By. Itself.

She smelled like hay, winter air, and his perfume.

He took another long, delicious whiff.

Now that he had her, he wasn't sure what to do with her. But he didn't want to let her go.

She was clasped against his heart, which suddenly pounded like stampeding buffalo, and all he could think about was kissing. The almost kiss he'd wanted on Christmas night. And the real kiss that had rocked his world the day they were married. The one he tried not to remember but thought about anyway. All. The. Time.

Her arms went around his waist. Was that a sigh he heard?

He might be in serious trouble here.

She lifted her face, looked up at him.

Oh, yeah. Serious trouble.

A horse whinnied. Something, probably the horse, banged against the sheet metal barn.

Rosy cheeks, sparkly eyes, full lips. And a smudge of something he wouldn't think about on her forehead. He really wanted to kiss her.

"This is crazy," he murmured. But he was going to do it anyway.

He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers.

She responded, pressing close. Her mouth answered his. He deepened the kiss, drowning a little. Maybe a lot.

Suddenly, AnnaLeigh stiffened. She dropped her arms and pulled away.

No. Come back. Don't go.

His empty arms fell to his sides.

Cold air seeped between their warm bodies and slapped Holt out of his spell.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He wanted to bang his head against a rock. Probably should.

AnnaLeigh didn't want this. Neither did he. Romance was not in the rules. He'd promised. They both had. He'd even given himself a good talking to at Christmas. Loving AnnaLeigh was not in the deal, and he respected her too much to break that promise.

He held out his hands in apology. "Sorry. Out of line. Won't happen again."

AnnaLeigh gave him a long, troubled look, then, with chin up and face flushed, she nodded. "Don't worry about it. No harm, no foul."

"You sure?"

"Holt," she said, as if talking to Jacey. "It was only a kiss. We aren't teenagers. No big deal."

"Right." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. No big deal, she said. No big deal. Why did it feel like a big deal to him?

AnnaLeigh bent to pick up the shovel and handed it to him. "Jacey is riding the bus home today. Supper at six."

She left him standing in the stall, a shovel in his hand, a funny feeling in his gut, and the words, "no big deal" rattling around in his brain.

The contract was clear. And her signature was on the bottom next to Holt's.

AnnaLeigh flipped to the second page and read the words over and over. They'd both agreed to a strictly platonic marriage of convenience, no emotional or physical involvement, no romance, no love.

Then why?

She touched her lips. Jacey hadn't been around, so the kiss wasn't a ploy to keep up the charade the way it had been on their wedding day. He'd simply gotten this soft, hungry look in his eyes and kissed her.

Trouble was, she'd kissed him back and wanted to keep on kissing him, to sink into his broad, bull-rider strong chest, and stay right there forever.

She tossed the contract on her bed and stalked to the window looking out over the McNeil ranch. She loved watching the cattle and horses tug at hay bales, which looked like giant shredded wheat. She could well imagine how beautiful the ranch would be in spring when the bushes came alive with blooms and the grass was green.

She'd already been considering a flower garden. Maybe an herb garden too.

McNeil Ranch was miles from town, a good mile from the nearest neighbor. She hadn't known how she would feel about living in such a remote area, but she loved it. Loved the peace and quiet, loved the animals, loved the sense of home and family, loved the little girl who called her mommy.

She also loved the cowboy who owned everything she could see from this window.

With a defeated sigh, AnnaLeigh flopped into the cushy arm chair next to the bed. Holt had wrestled the chair into her room after he'd learned of her love of reading late into the night.

He was too good to her. That's why she couldn't help falling for him. He'd never so much as raised his voice to her or Jacey, and he'd certainly never hit her or forced her to do anything against her will. The cowboy didn't have a cruel bone in his tough body.

She should go to him this very moment and tell him the truth about her growing feelings, about her past, and especially about the baby.

A voice whispered in her head. You can't keep the secret much longer.

She knew that. She knew she should tell him. But telling him would erase that soft look. He might hate her, or worse. He might send her away.

AnnaLeigh tilted her forehead against the cold window pane, insides knotted. Honesty really was the best policy. She knew that now in a way she hadn't understood before. Jesus had changed her. Deception hurt everyone.

"Jesus, show me what to do. I don't want to lose Holt. I don't want to hurt him either. Or Jacey. Sweet Jacey who calls me mommy."

Her life was as perfect now as it would ever be. How could she throw that away?

But soon, she'd have no choice.

Soon.

But not today.

She turned from the window, no closer to a solution than before.

She wanted a little more time to store up memories of Holt and Jacey, memories to return to if he divorced her. A few more days to live the fantasy of a real home and family. A little more time to love them both.

Was that so wrong?

Her conscience said yes. Her heart said no. Which one was right?

But she knew.

"Lord," she finally said, "give me courage and the right moment, and I'll tell him. Please don't let my mistakes drive him away."

Her cell phone chirped.

Was it Holt apologizing again for kissing her? And hadn't that been a humiliation like no other? He was a man, doing what men do. He didn't love her, didn't want anything except the physical, but he was too honorable to force the issue. Holt was a man of his word.

She slid a thumb over the screen. A notification bar appeared.

"I know where you are."

Her heart stopped beating.

For over a month, she'd heard nothing from Alan. Not a word. She'd thought he'd moved on without her.

The message continued, warning, threatening. If she knew what was good for her, she had better get herself back to Colorado.

She closed the app and held the phone to her chest.

Her past may have been forgiven, but it wasn't forgotten.

Refuge was about as empty as Holt had ever seen it. Except for a few hardy souls braving the cold north wind outside the grocery store and another across the road filling his tank at the Sinclair pump, Holt and the feed store clerk were the only ones making any noise.

The January lull was upon them, the time after the holidays when folks were too broke to go anywhere and the cold weather called for staying inside. Except for farmers and ranchers and those whose jobs required outside work.

"Heard it might snow," the employee said as he pushed the flat cart piled with mineral blocks toward Holt's truck.

Holt lifted his eyes to the sky. "Nah. Too cold."

They both chuckled.

"Ice more likely." He'd prefer snow, but Refuge hadn't seen snow at all last winter.

Holt hoisted a flat of mineral blocks onto the back of his truck. The clerk followed with another. The heavy blocks thudded against the metal bed, scraping as they shoved them forward.

"Thanks, bud." He slammed the tailgate and took the receipt from the clerk. "Tell your dad to come out sometime and watch my young bulls. He's always welcome. You, too."

"Will do." The other man, eager to be out of the cold, nodded, then jogged toward the building, breath puffing white.

A white sheriff's SUV turned the corner. Holt strained to see the driver, saw it was Evan, and lifted a hand.

Holt moved to his truck door but paused to stare down the street. His eyes slid past the pastel pink-and-blue bakery awning to Rachel's Gifts and Cards. Though he was short on time, he was tempted to drop in, if only for a minute, to see AnnaLeigh.

Maybe they could both take a break and head to Pie Town Cafe for a slice of pie and a hot coffee.

Nah. Bad idea.

AnnaLeigh wouldn't want that. She'd made that clear. She'd been avoiding him ever since that kiss in the barn.

The cold winter day wrapped around Holt and settled in his heart. He felt as empty as the town. Wind stung his eyes, and they watered.

AnnaLeigh had become skittish as a hummingbird again. His fault. He'd even heard her throwing up in the bathroom this morning, something she hadn't done in a while. At least, not to his knowledge.

Anxiety, it seemed, unsettled her stomach, which explained the sickness prior to Las Vegas. She'd been nervous about their marriage. Now, she was anxious about him.

Which would not do. He had to fix this. He wanted to hear her laugh again and give him a hard time, to make him pick up his socks and tease him into playing Candyland with her and Jacey, and ask him to taste the spaghetti sauce. He wanted to dance with her in the kitchen and show her the new colt and watch her expression soften and glow.

He didn't like this skittish ghost of a wife, especially since her sudden onset of nerves was his fault.

Maybe he should drop by the flower shop and buy her a peace offering before he left tonight. All women liked flowers. Flowers were a good apology.

He didn't have much time, though. He had cattle to haul, but he'd be back late tonight. Flowers should do the trick until he could return and maybe offer to take her out to dinner or…something.

He hopped into his truck and headed toward the florist.

AnnaLeigh rang up Dakota Lockhart's purchase. Ellie's mother hadn't been in since before Christmas, so they chatted briefly about their daughters and the upcoming Cards by Kids projects and the organ donor drive for Valentine's Day.

As she had at Christmas, AnnaLeigh noticed the cowgirl's weary eyes and wondered what burdens she carried.

"Will this be all, Dakota?" She stroked the throw blanket's soft fleece and checked to be sure the warming battery was intact. "I love how soft these are, and I'm told they're really warm. Rachel says lots of customers bought them during football season."

The cowgirl nodded, her long, over-the-shoulder ponytail dipping low to brush the countertop. "It's a gift for Vernon, the rancher I work for. His birthday. Eighty-one, and he still insists on driving the tractor in this freezing weather. Hopefully, this will soothe some of his arthritis pain."

"I'll wrap it for you."

"No need. I promised Ellie she could do that. She loves wrapping presents."

"At least let me box it for you." AnnaLeigh reached under the counter and found the correct sized container. While she was at it, she added paper and a bow to the inside. "There you go. All fixed up. Tell your boss happy birthday from Rachel's Gifts and Cards."

"Thank you." Dakota took the bag but didn't leave.

Except for the two of them, the showroom was empty. Rachel was in the back putting away Christmas merchandise and taking inventory. Business had been very slow, a malady of January that would go away, her boss had assured her. AnnaLeigh hoped so. She didn't want to lose her job.

All things considered, she needed to remain independent. In case things went south. In case Holt tossed her out when he learned about the baby.

"Was there something else you needed?" AnnaLeigh asked.

"I almost forgot to tell you, and it's probably nothing. But I was at the gas station a few minutes ago, and a man in a newer black car was asking the attendant about you. I know most everyone around Refuge, but he was a stranger."

A chill tingled down AnnaLeigh's spine. Alan's threatening messages sprang to mind. He'd claimed to know her whereabouts. She'd hoped it was a lie. But she couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom.

"Did he mention what he wanted," AnnaLeigh asked, "or leave his name?" No need to panic. Maybe the man was one of Holt's friends or someone from church.

No, couldn't be. Friends would know where she worked. And Dakota would have recognized anyone local.

Her knees weakened, felt like water. The foreboding deepened, like dark clouds before a storm.

"He didn't say," Dakota answered. "And I guess the attendant doesn't know you. It was none of my business, so I didn't say anything, and, maybe I'm being weird, but I didn't like the guy's attitude. He was kind of pushy."

Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord . It must have been Alan. Or one of his hirelings.

Panic welled. She held the fear in check and managed to flap a hand, casual-like. "Probably no one important, but thanks for telling me."

"Sure."

The woman took her bag and left. AnnaLeigh stumbled to the bathroom, sick at her stomach, but even sicker at heart.

If Alan was in Refuge, he might come in the shop. He might find her.

She had to get out of town. Now .

When she exited the bathroom, Rachel stood at the register, counting the day's receipts.

"Do you mind if I leave early?" AnnaLeigh asked.

A wad of dollar bills in one hand, Rachel paused to glance up. "Is everything okay? You look upset."

"I need to talk to Holt about something important."

Rachel tilted her dark head. "A newlywed's tiff perhaps?"

"Something like that." Even if the man at the gas station wasn't Alan, the conversation she dreaded couldn't wait any longer.

"Go ahead." With elegant, manicured hands, Rachel paper-clipped the bills and reached for the change. Coins clattered against the metal tray. "Business is slow; I can handle the rest of the day."

"Thanks, Rachel." Grabbing her handbag, AnnaLeigh rushed to her car. She needed to be at home, far out in the country, with Holt where she'd be safe. Alan wouldn't find her there.

When she arrived at the ranch, she hit the door running. "Holt!"

He came out of the bedroom, freshly showered and nicely dressed, a jacket over one arm. Her heart sunk. She'd forgotten about tonight's trip to haul cattle. He'd be away from home for hours. She'd be alone with a child. His child.

She started to ask to go with him, but that wasn't possible. Jacey wasn't out of school yet.

Holt took one look at her face and said, "What's wrong?"

The worry and fear of the last few months flooded over her until she was swamped. She ran into his arms. His jacket whispered to the wood floor.

"Hey, now." Those strong, muscled arms pulled her into a protective cocoon. They felt so good. She was safe, as long as Holt was with her. "What's happened? Talk to me, babe. You're shaking."

The concern in his voice brought relief…and courage. He cared. She knew he did.

Would he still care once she'd told him?

Time had run out. She had no choice.

"I have a confession." Holding tight, afraid of letting go lest she fall, lest she lose him, she tilted her head back to look into his warm, worried eyes. "I broke some of your rules. One in particular. I haven't been able to keep my end of the deal."

His eyebrows crashed together. "What are you talking about?"

"The love rule. I'm sorry. I didn't intend to fall in love?—"

"In love? With who?" Holt's voice deepened, dark and dangerous, his eyes turning as icy as January. "Was he before or after you promised to be my wife?"

"No. Holt, no. I love you ." She touched his beloved jaw. It was hard as granite. "Rules three and six and the platonic contract. I promised not to love you, but I can't keep that promise any longer."

His jaw softened. Wonder slowly brightened his face. His mouth opened, closed, opened. "Say that again."

"I love you. I know you don't love me, and I can live with that, but I have to tell you the truth, all of it?—"

The rest of her confession disappeared in a kiss so beautiful that tears sprang to AnnaLeigh's eyes.

When the kiss ended, Holt leaned his forehead against hers, his breath puffing soft and warm against her skin. "Say it again."

"I love you. Do you want me to leave? Are you mad?

His thumbs stroked the corners of her mouth, lifting them into a smile before kissing her again. "Mad about you."

Her heart leaped. "You are?"

"Yeah." He shook his head in wonder. "I am. It's been right there in front of my eyes for days, maybe weeks. Then, when you burst through the door, yelling my name, fear jolted me like a lightning bolt. The truth hit me. I couldn't stand if something happened to you because I love you."

He loved her, a dream come true. But would he feel the same after he heard the rest of her confession?

"Oh, Holt. I can't believe this."

He laughed softly. His eyes bore into hers, bright and shining. "Me neither, so let's believe it together. You're my wife. I love you. You love me. We'll figure out the rest."

She hoped so. Desperately, she hoped so.

Awash in joy and fear, heart thundering, she wanted to cling to him and hide from the haunting truth. To lock out the rest of the world and remain right here in the arms of the man she loved, the man who loved her, with the family she'd dreamed of her entire life.

"We really need to talk," she said. "I have so much to tell you, and I want you to know everything about my past in case you want to change your mind." Something terrible had happened, and he deserved to know, especially now that love was part of the equation.

"I won't change my mind, AnnaLeigh." He kissed her nose. "But we do need to talk. I want to know all there is to know about you." He huffed in frustration. "Not now though. I have to get on the road, or I won't be back until late. But when I get home to my wife "—he kissed her again, long and deep until they both trembled. "Hold onto that until I get home."

"But I have to tell you about?—"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Tonight."

Holt picked up his coat and started out the door. He turned once and shot her a wink and a saucy grin.

The door closed. AnnaLeigh hurried to the window to watch him drive away.

Her husband loved her.

She hadn't told him.

Worried, afraid Alan would find her, afraid of what would happen when Holt returned, she turned back to the room, lost.

Red roses, a whole vase of them, brightened the center of the new dining room table.

"Where—?" She went to them and fished out the small card.

I'm sorry for upsetting you. Be happy again . The simple message was signed by Holt.

Her sweet cowboy thought he was the problem.

AnnaLeigh pressed the card to her chest. "Oh, Holt. I'm the one who's sorry."

She took out her phone and texted, "I love the flowers. Thank you."

Holt responded with a tender message, ending with, I love you. Can't wait to see you again.

Don't text and drive. I love you too much.

She added a smiley face and a heart, though her own heart fretted about what he didn't know. Would he be as loving then?

AnnaLeigh glanced at the windmill clock. Another hour and a half before school released. She'd promised to take Jacey shopping for new shoes.

Did she dare drive into Refuge?

Maybe she should call the school and have Jacey ride the bus. They could always shop another time, after she was certain the stranger was no longer in town.

When Holt returned tonight, she would confess everything before Alan discovered her whereabouts and before Holt agreed to tear up the contract, toss out his rules, and take their relationship to the next level.

She was terrified.

After organizing the evening meal and cleaning a house that wasn't messy, AnnaLeigh phoned the school with instructions for Jacey to ride the bus. Disappointed was better than unsafe.

She gnawed the edge of a thumbnail. Would Holt's perky tumbleweed, a child she cherished as her own, still be her daughter after tonight?

Worrying but determined, she tossed on a work jacket and started toward the horse barn. Mucking stalls would take her mind off her troubles and work off some of the stress.

She was halfway across the wide lawn when a dark, fancy car pulled into the drive. She didn't recognize it, but suspicion sprang up like weeds in spring.

Was this the same man Dakota had seen at the convenience store?

Shielding her eyes from the winter glare, she tried to see through the tinted glass, praying to be wrong, praying that the driver was lost and only wanted directions. It happened occasionally out here in the country.

A chill spread through her body. She tugged her coat closed and tied the belt, protecting what was hers and hers alone.

The hazy afternoon pulsed around her, too quiet, too empty. Even the hired hand had headed home for the night.

She was alone.

The car door opened. The metallic click sounded like a shot reverberating in the quiet.

AnnaLeigh jumped.

A bulky figure exited the driver's seat. Not Alan, but before she could relax, he spoke. "AnnaLeigh."

It wasn't a question. He knew her name.

Her pulse picked up speed. She was alone, far from town and help. If he was who she feared he was, the best she could do was pray and bluff her way through the next few minutes.

The man strode toward her. She didn't recognize him.

Please Lord, let me be wrong .

Mouth dry as baking soda, she said, "May I help you? Are you lost?"

He kept walking, expression empty.

A warning bell sounded in AnnaLeigh's head. She took a step back.

The stranger followed. Too close. Into her personal space. "No, but you are."

Though she wanted to appear unfazed, AnnaLeigh took another step backwards. "I don't know you. What do you want?"

Cold, narrow eyes raked over her. "Alan sent me."

Her breath left her body. She wanted to run, but her feet stuck to the ground. "Alan who? I don't know who you're talking about."

The man took hold of her arm. "Don't play around, AnnaLeigh. Alan isn't amused."

She jerked at his grip. "Let go."

Jesus, help. The prayer was weak. God probably wouldn't even hear it.

The man's fingers squeezed tighter. "Alan sends a message. Come home where you belong. All is forgiven."

Right. As if she believed that. Alan wasn't one to forgive and forget. Not until penance was paid.

But maybe this guy didn't know Alan as well as she did. Maybe he was new, the low man on the payroll, sent to do Alan's dirty work. Typical.

An idea popped into AnnaLeigh's head. It wasn't a great idea, but it was the only one she had.

"Does he really want me back?" She forced a lovelorn expression and, in a small, helpless voice, pleaded, "Really? Alan sent for me? He still loves me?"

"Sure he does, or I wouldn't be here. You know how he is about his possessions."

Possession. The word ran through her like ice water. A possession was all she'd ever been to Alan. Someone to own and control.

The need to gag pressed at the back of her throat, but AnnaLeigh knew her only chance to avoid being tossed over this man's beefy shoulder and shoved into the back of his slick rental was to pretend to be in love with Alan and to want to go back to Colorado.

She wasn't much of an actress. The ploy might not work, but what other choice did she have? The best she could hope for was that the man was as brainless as most of Alan's thugs.

Keeping the whiny, helpless, dumb-blonde tone, she tilted her head and gave the stranger her most pitiful look. "I saw Alan flirting with another woman, and I thought he was tired of me. That's why I left."

One of the many reasons. Alan had never stopped flirting with other women. She didn't even want to think about what else he might have done while claiming her as his "possession."

The man stared at her for several long beats, considering her words. "Yeah?"

Good. He wasn't the sharpest knife in the kitchen. Maybe this would work.

"Why else would I leave a beautiful home and all the pretty things he buys me? If Alan loves me, I want to go home. I want to be with him." She put an extra gush into the words. "He's the love of my life!"

Forgive me, Lord.

"Good deal." The man spun her toward the house. "Get your stuff and let's go. We can catch a plane out tonight."

"Wait, wait. No."

This wasn't the way it was supposed to go.

Think, AnnaLeigh, think.

Her gaze landed on her little white Fiesta. "What about my car?"

"Leave it. Alan can buy you another."

"He's sweet that way, but if I leave this car, my hus-friends will think something bad had happened to me, that I'd been kidnapped or murdered. I'm supposed to be picking up a friend's child from school and babysitting today. If I don't show up, they'll call the police."

More lies. She'd become too good at them.

But police was not a popular word. The henchman scowled. "You're right. I'd better call Alan."

He reached inside his coat.

She put a hand on his arm. "You don't want to bother him. You know how he reacts to someone who can't do the job he sent them to do."

The man started to sweat.

She'd struck a nerve . Alan did not play nice with failures.

"I have a better idea," she said. "You fly to Colorado. Tell Alan that I'm sorry for the misunderstanding and that I love him with all my heart. I'll stay here only long enough to tell my friends I've decided to go home, and then tomorrow I'll start early and drive there."

With every word, AnnaLeigh prayed that the man was too dumb to see the holes in her idea.

"It's a long drive."

"I've done it before."

"Well…" He scratched at his head as he considered. "I guess that could work." His bushy eyebrows formed one long unibrow. "You sure you ain't pulling a fast one? Alan won't like it if you run again. We'd both be in trouble."

AnnaLeigh took the man's arm and started walking him towards his rental. "You should get to the airport, and as soon as I tie up loose ends, I'll follow. Tell Alan I'm coming home, and I can't wait to see him."

AnnaLeigh kept up a brainless chatter about her love for Alan and how wonderful he was to send someone for her until the man started his car and drove away.

Then, arms wrapped her shivering body, and terrified of the tangled web she'd woven, AnnaLeigh knew one thing for certain. Time had run out.