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Sudden Setup
Barb Han
A stranger is her only hopeAlone and on the run, Holden Crawford knows helping Ella Butler will only bring him trouble. Once her would-be killers are caught and Holden knows Ella is safe, will revealing his darkest secrets bring them closer…or force her out of his life forever?
Someone desperately wants her dead.
A stranger is her only hope.
Alone and on the run for the past two years, Holden Crawford knows helping Ella Butler will only bring him trouble. But not rescuing one of Cattle Barge’s wealthiest daughters isn’t an option and now he’ll risk everything to protect her. Once her would-be killers are caught and Holden knows Ella is safe, will revealing his darkest secrets bring them closer...or force her out of his life forever?
USA TODAY bestselling author BARB HAN lives in north Texas with her very own hero-worthy husband, three beautiful children, a spunky golden retriever/standard poodle mix and too many books in her to-read pile. In her downtime, she plays video games and spends much of her time on or around a basketball court. She loves interacting with readers and is grateful for their support. You can reach her at www.barbhan.com (http://www.barbhan.com).
Also by Barb Han (#u982c49f5-afbc-5378-bb6c-fda767e3dadb)
Sudden Setup
Stockyard Snatching
Delivering Justice
One Tough Texan
Texas-Sized Trouble
Texas Witness
Texas Showdown
Texas Prey
Texas Takedown
Texas Hunt
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Sudden Setup
Barb Han
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07879-5
SUDDEN SETUP
© 2018 Barb Han
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Many thanks to Allison Lyons, the absolute best editor. My enduring gratitude to Jill Marsal, the absolute best agent. I’m privileged to work with both of you and count my blessings every day.
Brandon, Jacob and Tori, nothing in my life would make sense without the three of you. Your smiles bring joy and light to every day. Bitty Bug—our fairy-light chats are the highlight of every evening.
Babe, how lucky am I? You make me laugh, lift me up when I cry and cheer me on every single day. If I could be granted one wish, it would be that every person could have this kind of love. I can only imagine how much better the world would be for it. I love you.
Contents
Cover (#ua8e5cbd9-55c7-58a2-88eb-8e8ba30a4572)
Back Cover Text (#u9360a4fd-2627-5cd2-afaf-d952cd55399a)
About the Author (#u3a2caf3f-ef1a-5747-944a-dd0274e76a2c)
Booklist (#ub2ed6f11-fccc-59f0-bee8-d0f59e54ef77)
Title Page (#uc36d52e5-ebee-5389-b484-d71ed147a213)
Copyright (#u9c435354-9e18-5f85-83ae-98fb7dc12ee0)
Dedication (#ue873353a-08b5-5459-ad7c-a297ec297898)
Chapter One (#u43c9a924-ae13-5ed6-b651-da5732ef7e4e)
Chapter Two (#u74942e22-c623-5144-854f-29a0c40b7338)
Chapter Three (#u9b97beca-67fb-509f-b612-28f039bf3503)
Chapter Four (#u356e83d4-d582-5d81-b2cf-ade644e4b84f)
Chapter Five (#u9e77e5d2-ac76-5c73-8a6d-29dcf633c737)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u982c49f5-afbc-5378-bb6c-fda767e3dadb)
Whoever said mistakes don’t define a person didn’t have a clue. Holden Crawford stood over the petite woman curled in his bed, figuring that helping her would cost him dearly. He shook his head at his own stupidity. She’d already been in and out of sleep for a day and a half, and he was beginning to worry that she’d taken a harder knock to the head than he initially assessed. As soon as she woke and he made sure she was all right, he’d drive her close to the sheriff’s office. Then he’d disappear. Again.
Holden had recognized Ella Butler immediately when he saw her hiking. She was the daughter of the wealthiest man in Cattle Barge, Texas—a man who was helping Holden out while he needed a hand and a protected place to stay off the grid.
His daughter was trouble times ten. His best bet would be to leave her in the cabin with a few supplies and take off before anyone connected the dots that he’d been there. And yet, abandoning her while she was so vulnerable wasn’t something he could do. Even someone as hardened as him couldn’t walk away like this.
Holden ignored the annoying voice in his head that tried to convince him sticking around might be an option. His duffel was already packed and sitting next to the door.
He’d told himself that staring at the wavy-haired beauty as she hiked along Devil’s Lid was for survival reasons and not because those long, silky legs of hers were highlighted perfectly in pale pink running shorts. He’d needed to see if she would detour to the cabin on the outskirts of her father’s property where he stayed and expose his hiding spot. Hell, it had been his sanctuary.
Out of nowhere, her head had snapped to one side and then she’d lost her footing. She’d free-fallen a good ten feet before hitting the hard clay soil. She’d rolled another twenty before meeting an equally rough landing at the bottom of the gulch.
It had been no accident.
At that point, Holden had had two choices: help or walk away. Tracking the responsible party hadn’t been a serious consideration, although Holden didn’t doubt his own skills. It was more important to make sure she was safe first. But there was a problem with helping her.
Ella Butler was news.
If it hadn’t been ninety-five degrees at eight o’clock in the morning, he would’ve cleaned her wound and then left her with a couple of water bottles for when she woke. August weather was too unforgiving to leave her stranded and the gash on her head was serious. Holden had had no choice but to bring her back to the cabin.
To complicate matters, she’d blinked up at him. He had to know if she remembered him when she woke because if she could give his description to law enforcement, the real trouble would begin.
Holden walked another circle around the room.
Questions ate at him. First of which, what kind of fool hiked alone in one of the most remote and barren places of the Butler property? There were all kinds of dangerous creatures out there, and he should know because he’d found a scorpion in his boot yesterday morning and had crossed paths with a coral snake by lunch. He recalled the childhood saying he’d been taught to tell the difference between a coral and a harmless snake with similar markings: red on yellow, kill a fellow; red on black, venom lack. This part of the country had no shortage of venomous creatures.
There were other concerns about leaving her alone. Did she know there was no ready water supply? He’d had to hike for miles to locate a decent place to dig to find the lifesaving liquid when he first arrived. Making the trek had become part of his daily routine after morning push-ups and was the reason he’d seen her in the first place. His daily schedule had been the dividing line between life and death for Ella Butler.
Holden had kept an eye on her to ensure that she didn’t get too close to his camp. The place sat on the westernmost boundary of the Butler property referred to as Tierra del Fuego, meaning land of fire in Spanish.
If he was being completely honest, he’d admit to being intrigued by Ella. He’d chalked it up to too many days without female companionship and his dread at realizing the time had come to move on from Cattle Barge.
He’d spent a little more than two years on the run. Two years of not speaking to another person. Two years of eating every meal by himself without anyone to share his life with. And yet in a strange way, Holden had felt alone his entire life.
Scouting a new location was a lot of work, but his diligence had kept him alive so far. He’d been on the move twenty-five consecutive months, never pausing for more than a pair of weeks in one spot. This was the longest he’d stayed in one place, and his instincts had told him that it was time to go even before he’d witnessed the assault.
The problem was that he liked Cattle Barge. Holden felt an unexplainable connection to the land. He’d let his emotions win over logic in staying on too long. He’d erred by not listening to his instincts. And there’d be a price to pay for that lapse in judgment, he thought as he looked down at her.
* * *
ELLA’S EYES BURNED as harsh light and a sharp pain in that spot right in the center of her forehead, like a brain freeze, nailed her. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blur. The outline of a very large man looming over her came into focus, causing very real fear to surge through her. Ella tried to force herself awake but darkness pulled. Her mind screamed to get up and run. Her limbs couldn’t comply and so no matter how hard she fought against it, her eyes closed and she gave in to sleep.
It was dark by the time Ella woke again. She vaguely remembered being helped outside to go to the bathroom once, or maybe it was twice, but then she might’ve dreamed the whole episode.
Glancing around, she tried to get her bearings. Her head pounded as she strained to figure out where she was. The bed was hard but comfortable. There was a blanket draped over her. It was clean and soft.
Instincts kicked in and she felt around to make sure she had clothes on. Movement sent shards of pain needling through her skin. A flicker of relief washed over her when she realized her shirt and shorts were on. The respite was short-lived. Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness when she saw the silhouette of a man folded forward in a chair in the corner. Based on his steady breathing, she surmised that he was asleep.
Ella couldn’t make out his face from across the room but a warning buzz shot through her at the sheer size of him. Questions raced through her mind but she couldn’t bring one into focus. Exhaustion kicked in again and it felt like she’d run a marathon in the August Texas heat. All she could do was close her eyes and rest. So she did.
“What time is it?” Ella asked, unsure how long she’d dozed. She’d been awake for a few minutes, assessing whether or not it was safe to talk. The sun was up. Her thoughts had been engaged in a battle of good versus evil, debating the intentions of the stranger in the room. Eventually, logic won out. If this man had wanted to hurt her, he could’ve done so already. Still, she’d walk a fine line with him and make sure she didn’t provoke him.
“You’re asking the wrong question,” the strong male voice said—a voice that sent electric chills up her back.
“What should I be asking then?” She tried to push up to sit but her arms were too weak. The male figure made no move to help her.
“It’s Thursday.” He turned his back to her in a surprising show of trust and picked up whatever was on his plate. He popped something into his mouth. It must be what smelled so amazing. Her stomach growled despite being convinced that she wasn’t hungry.
She scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon while he wasn’t watching. Her vision was improving even though looking around still made her eyes hurt. She glanced at the door, hoping to find a baseball bat or something she could use if push came to shove. There had to be one around there somewhere, her head would argue because it felt like one had been used to crack it open.
The room was sparse. There was the makeshift bed in the corner that she was presently resting on. A very uncomfortable-looking lawn chair—the one he’d slept on last night—was pushed up to a table, which was nothing more than a piece of drift board propped up by stick legs tied off by rope. Either this guy was a survivalist or a former Boy Scout. She couldn’t decide which one.
Ella remembered that the stranger had slept hunched forward on that chair made of lightweight aluminum and cheap material. Only a gentleman would give up his bed...right?
Embarrassment heated her cheeks as she recalled him helping her outside to use the bathroom. If he’d wanted to take advantage of her, he’d had plenty of opportunity. And yet he wasn’t being welcoming.
The plate the stranger ate from was some kind of metal, like she’d used for camping with her brothers and sister when they were old enough to set up a tent in the backyard. It had come in an outdoorsman kit, she remembered.
She performed a mental calculation that took longer than it should have and made her brain pound against her skull. “I’ve been out for two days?”
“In and out,” the stranger said. She didn’t recognize his voice at all and she knew she would remember such a deep baritone if she’d heard it before. There was an intense but calming quality and it sent a trill of awareness through her, which was totally inappropriate and unwelcomed. She chalked her reaction up to hitting her head too hard.
“I’m sorry, have we met before?” she asked, hoping to place him. Her mind was fuzzy and she was having a hard time processing information.
“No.”
