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There was only one truck driver in the building. Bathrooms were to Holden’s left, near the end of the counter where the cash register was located. There was one cook in the kitchen and only one waitress on duty. The cook was significantly shorter than Holden, bald, with thick arms. He bench-pressed. The man was in his early fifties with a cook’s belly. Holden dismissed him as a threat. He fell into the same category as the dads. One drove a minivan, the other a Suburban. Holden could tell they were from the suburbs based on their clothing—one was in jeans and a polo shirt, the other wore warm-ups and a T-shirt. They had that haggard look that came with long road trips with young kids.
The truck driver was substantial in size, mostly fat from spending his days seated. He looked strong, though. Holden could see his arms in the sleeveless flannel shirt he wore. The man couldn’t be ignored as a threat. If Holden assigned levels, five being the highest, the dads were ones and the truck driver was a two and a half, maybe three.
There were exactly two exits in the building: the front door he’d come through and the one in the kitchen. Holden was used to memorizing every detail, looking for every possible escape route. Doing so had kept him alive. Was he really living?
Holden dismissed the thought as going too long without human companionship. His brief run-in with Ella Butler reminded him of everything he didn’t have. He’d been alone for a very long time, focused on staying alive, staying one step ahead of the men who were after him. They were good. He was the best. And that was precisely the reason he was still breathing.
The waitress approached. Her metal-plated name tag read Deena.
“Make up your mind?” Deena asked, motioning toward the menu. She was in her late thirties and had early wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her neck was the biggest giveaway of her age.
“Chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots. More coffee when you have a chance,” he said.
She wrote down his order on the ticket with a smile, a nod and a wink. “Sam makes the best.”
“I’m counting on it,” Holden said, returning the smile. He excused himself to the restroom. He wanted to splash water on his face and wash his hands before he ate. He didn’t sleep much while he’d been taking care of Ella.
As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, he was shocked at the stranger looking back at him. Furry face. Dark circles under his eyes. His thoughts snapped to Ella Butler and her initial reaction to seeing him. No wonder she’d been so afraid when she’d first opened her eyes. Hell, he would be, too.
He pushed those unproductive thoughts aside.
Holden splashed cold water on his face before washing his hands. Maybe it was time to shave the overgrowth. He hardly recognized himself anymore, and he certainly looked more animal than man. It was easy to do while he’d been mostly living off the land. And yet his reflection had caught him off guard.
Walking out of the restroom, he scanned the room. The situation was the same. The threat potential was low. He reclaimed his bar stool and did his level best not to look at the TV mounted in the corner of the room. A cursory glance revealed the channel was set to local news.
Holden picked up his fresh cup of coffee, ignoring the screen. He didn’t treat himself to a restaurant meal often. This was a delicacy he had every intention of enjoying.
And then he made the mistake of looking up.
There was a picture of the Butler ranch on the TV screen. The story was about an heiress’s life being in danger. Holden gripped the cup and waited...
Another attempt had been made on Ella’s life. A witness had seen a man trap a woman between two vehicles on a residential street one block from the sheriff’s office. The woman managed to fight off her attacker before slipping around an SUV and disappearing between two houses as at least one shot was fired. The witness, who would only agree to speak anonymously, recognized Ella Butler but was too frightened to get close enough to get a description of the heiress’s attacker. There was a lot of blood at the scene and a manhunt was underway for a gunman wearing a ski mask. He was considered dangerous and authorities cautioned people to keep a distance and call law enforcement immediately if he was spotted.
Holden could think of a few other things he’d like to do to the guy besides turn him in.
He released a string of curses under his breath. It was his fault for taking her to town in the first place. He’d left her there without transportation or a way to escape. Damn it. This was on him.
Anger roared through him along with an overdose of guilt.
He listened for any other news about Ella and sighed sharply when he learned she was missing and believed to be injured.
“I need my check,” he said to Deena.
Chapter Four (#u982c49f5-afbc-5378-bb6c-fda767e3dadb)
Ella rolled onto her side, ignoring the pain shouting at her. She could feel her pulse pound in her thigh where she’d been shot and pain gripped her in between the temples. She was losing blood, which was not a good sign. At least she’d managed to fight off her attacker and run. She’d poked her fingers through the ski mask he wore and had managed to knock him off balance. Then she’d bolted. It had all happened so fast. The blast. The cold, wet feeling spreading through her thigh.
Who would want to hurt her?
The stranger’s warning hadn’t been an overreaction. Her life was in danger. She’d been in such a fog earlier that she hadn’t even thought to ask any of the right questions. Could Blue Eyes have identified the rock thrower?
She crawled into the front landscaping of the modest home on Sixth Street, gasping. How long could she stay there unnoticed? A few minutes? Hours? The night?
It was getting late. She’d barely escaped the gunman. If only she’d been able to get a look at his face. And now she was hiding, on the run from someone determined to get her out of the way. She searched her mind for a name, anyone who would want her gone. Could this be related to her father’s death? Or was the timing a coincidence?
Her father had enemies and plenty of people didn’t like him, but it was as if he’d been made of Teflon and she could scarcely believe that someone had managed to get to him. Her heart fisted and grief shrouded her, weighing down her limbs. Her larger-than-life father was gone. She was hiding in someone’s landscaping and she had nowhere to go.
A sob released before she had time to force it back. Tears brimmed but she couldn’t allow herself to cry. Not now. Let that dam break and the flood might just leave a trail big enough for her attacker to find her. Start crying and she might not be able to stop.
A branch snapped. She glanced around, afraid to breathe in case the gunman was closing in on her.
Hope that the noise could’ve been the sheriff or one of his deputies—anyone who could help—fizzled when she saw the bobcat winding through the front landscaping. He was fairly small and definitely not a threat. But it reminded her that there would be others. Soon.
Ella needed a plan. Her thoughts shifted to the compelling stranger in her father’s cabin. He was strong enough to defend her. She told herself that was the only reason he entered her thoughts and not because of something deeper, something like missing him. Missing a stranger sounded ridiculous, even to her. How much blood had she lost? She had to be delirious if she was thinking about Blue Eyes.
One thing was certain. If she surfaced in the open, she’d be killed the second her chaser caught sight of her. The shotgun that had been fired at her shot real shells, as evidenced by the blood on the outside of her thigh where shrapnel had grazed her. Speaking of which, she needed to clean her wound before it got infected.
She couldn’t go home. There was too much chaos going on since news of her father’s murder broke and she’d be an open target.
She had no idea what the person targeting her wanted. Ransom? Revenge?
She and her siblings were close-knit. They’d had to be since it was generally up to the four of them to handle things at home. Their father had been tougher on the twins. She’d been protective of Dade and Dalton when they were young. They’d long since grown into men who could take care of themselves and everyone around them. Ella and the twins had always looked after their younger sister, Cadence.
Speaking of her siblings, she needed to warn them but had no way to contact them. Thankfully, they were tucked away, far out of town, having left immediately after news broke of their father’s murder. They’d decided to get away from Cattle Barge until this whole mess blew over and life returned to normal, whatever that would be now that their father was gone. With his unconventional lifestyle, she and her siblings had feared people would come out of the woodwork to claim stakes in his vast fortune. Based on the traffic she’d seen coming into town and the resulting chaos, the others had been smart to leave. Someone had to stick around and make sure the ranch was still running, and Ella had convinced them it should be her.
But being in town was dangerous. So was the ranch. She didn’t suspect any of the workers who’d been around for years. There were a few new hands. She couldn’t rule out the team her father had put together even if she doubted he’d put anyone questionable to work on his ranch. He loved his family and was fiercely protective of them even if their relationships with him were highly individual and complicated. He’d never knowingly put them in jeopardy. Knowingly might be the key word. Could her father have put his trust in someone who’d duped him?
Her brain hurt. Her body ached. And some of her memories were patchy thanks to the blow she’d taken. At present, she was exhausted, hungry and bleeding. Her mind was going to places that she wouldn’t normally consider. She knew exactly where she needed to go so she could take a step back and think this through but had no idea how to get there. Her Jeep was parked near Devil’s Lid, which wasn’t doing her a lot of good. Blue Eyes had ridden her into town on his motorcycle.
There was no way she could make it to the sheriff’s office. The person who was after her could be watching. If she got anywhere near—
A hand clamped over her mouth. Ella gasped. She tried to bite but whoever was behind her was too fast at securing his grip—and it had to be a man. His hand was huge. He’d been stealthy, too. She hadn’t heard a peep. Her pulse pounded and adrenaline caused her body to shake.
“Be quiet and I’ll get you out of here,” said the familiar voice—the voice that belonged to Blue Eyes. “Can you walk?”
Her pulse raced from fear mixed with another shot of adrenaline. She nodded and his other hand slipped around her. A second later, she was being helped to her feet.
“I’m shot,” she said and could feel the physical impact of those words. No matter how much Blue Eyes tried to deny he cared about what happened to her, his body language belied his words when his muscles pulled taut with the news.
“How did you find me?” she asked as the initial shock began to wear off while they were on the move.
The motorcycle was parked at the end of a quiet street.
“I saw the news story about the attempt against your life,” he responded without missing a beat. “I recognized this area as close to where I dropped you off and tracked you by the blood trail I found.”
He made it sound easy but it couldn’t have been. How had this stranger become so good at hunting down a person? She decided this wasn’t the time to ask. By all accounts he was helping her...but he was so secretive before and it had her imagination churning against all logic. She didn’t like the confusing feelings she had toward him.
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt me?” she asked.
A frustrated-sounding grunt tore from his throat. “Seriously?”
Now all her defenses flared. “Yes. I’m a woman. I’m injured. Basic survival instincts kick in at some point. I have no idea who you are. I don’t even know your name.”
“If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve already done it.” That deep voice reverberated through her, sending a trill of awareness coursing through her. “We’ve already covered that.”
Okay, she could concede that point.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Holden Crawford. Now that you’ve heard it, forget it as fast as you can. Knowing my name will only end up hurting you more,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t tell you before now. It’s not because I’m trying to hide something from you or don’t trust you. I haven’t had a real conversation with someone in more than two years. So I’m guessing by your reactions to me that I’m pretty bad at it. Can’t say I was especially good with idle chitchat before, so...” He shrugged massive shoulders. “And the last person I really cared about ended up dead.”
She gasped.
“Not telling you my name has been my way of trying to protect you,” he continued. “Your father was good to me, offered to let me stay on his land, and I figured I owed him one for it. That’s the reason I helped you and didn’t walk away. I’m not that good of a person to stick around for pure reasons. It was a debt. One that has been paid.”
“Sounds like you’re a better man than you want to admit,” she said.
“Me? Nah. I know exactly who I am, what I am, and it’s not good for someone like you,” he stated. “You’re better off without me.”
A frustrated grunt tore from her throat.
He turned to face her.
“I’m sorry about that.” He glanced at her thigh and a trill of awareness blasted through her, which was unwelcomed. There was something primal and magnetic that pulled her in when she was near Blue Eyes. Sex appeal over standard good looks? “That was my fault, and I came back to make it right.”
“You’re on the run from something you didn’t do.”
“That’s what I said.” He held out a helmet and waited for her to make a decision.
“Maybe I can help you,” she offered.
The look on his face said he doubted it.
“It’s now or never, sweetheart. The choice is up to you. Go with me and I can’t take you to the law.”
Ella figured her options were pretty limited at the moment. She had no idea who was after her. Going to the sheriff was logical, but getting there safely wasn’t guaranteed and the man who was after her would most likely expect her there. Striking out on her own wasn’t even a consideration. She was injured and had none of the necessary skills to survive. Go back to the ranch and she couldn’t be certain that she’d be safe.
“Let’s go,” she said, taking the offering. “And my name is Ella, so you can stop calling me sweetheart.”
She slid onto the seat behind him. He took her hands and wrapped them around his chest.
“Hold on,” he said, like there was another option.
Ella turned her head and pressed it against his strong back as wind whipped around her.
Adrenaline had long since faded by the time they reached the cabin and exhaustion made it difficult to lift her leg over the motorcycle. Holden helped her take off the helmet and then he secured it to the back of the seat, mumbling something about needing to get another one. Texas didn’t require one by law, but most riders seemed smart enough to take the precaution.
Ella stared at his face. Beneath all that wild facial hair was an attractive and capable man, and she ignored what the revelation did to her stomach.
“Did you get a look at who did this to you?” he asked.
“No. He had on a ski mask and it was dark outside, so I couldn’t get a good look at his face,” she said.
A disgusted look crossed his features. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left you there and especially not without a vehicle.”
She leaned her weight on him as he put his arm around her waist, hoping she’d feel less vulnerable if she knew a little more about the stranger who was helping her. More electricity fizzed through her as he walked her inside the cabin, and the overwhelming feeling that she was safe for now settled over her.
“Sit still,” he said as he retrieved a bottle of water and poured it over her thigh. “I have something that’ll help with the cut on my bike.”
He brought in medical supplies and attended to her wounded leg.
“Who are you really?” she asked, staring up at him.
“A man defined by his mistakes.” He stepped back but maintained eye contact, holding a second too long. The dark lines of his serious expression said he meant every word of that. Fire shot through her when she realized the implication of what he said.
“You think helping me was a mistake?” She scoffed. Anger had been building and she’d explode if she held it in any longer. “Well, then, I’m sure glad you went against your superior judgment or I’d be dead.”
“Twice,” he said through clenched teeth as he stood. His breath was a mix of mint and coffee. An infuriating part of her wanted to see what that tasted like. He raked his fingers through thick, wavy hair.
“Now that you’ve saved me again, why not just leave? My Jeep isn’t far from here. I’ll head north, away from the ranch, until I figure out who’s doing this to me,” she said with more anger than she’d intended.
He took a threatening step toward her, closing the gap between them even more, and this close she could almost sense what his skin would feel like pressed against hers as she stood.
Ella blew out a frustrated breath. She thought the same curse that he muttered when she said, “Mistakes aren’t the only things that define a person.”
Holden caught her gaze again and she felt the moment her anger turned to awareness. Awareness of his strong, masculine body so close to hers. Awareness of how much he turned her on even though she fought against it. Awareness of how good it would feel to have his hands on her, roaming her skin.
“Do tell,” he said, and there was so much sexual undercurrent running between them.
“We’re also defined by our choices,” she said.
“Fine. This is one of mine.” He dipped his head and kissed her.
His lips, pressed to hers, sent a current of need rippling through her and heat pooled inside her thighs. She’d never been this aroused this quickly in her life, but then a sexual current had been building between them since she’d first seen him.
He tensed, like he expected her to fight back, but all she could do was surrender to the out-of-control wildfire spreading through her. She stretched her fingers out and smoothed them across his chest as she parted her lips. His tongue dipped inside her mouth and she could feel the groan rumble from deep in his chest.
The realization she was having the same effect on him that he had on her was satisfying. A frustrating and intense sexual draw stronger than anything she’d ever experienced enveloped her. That strength of an emotion could be dangerous. Holden was dangerous.
Instead of pulling back, which would be the most sensible move, Ella wrapped her hands around his neck and deepened the kiss.
His arms looped her waist and he hauled her body against his. She could feel his heart pound inside his chest at a frantic pace. Her breasts strained against her bra as they pressed flush against his muscled chest.
How on earth was it possible to feel so much heat in one kiss?
Holden’s strong, flat palm slipped inside her shirt and her nipples pebbled. He hesitated at the snap on her bra and then all of a sudden her breasts were freed. He released a guttural groan as he took one of her full breasts in his hand. He teased the nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and her stomach fluttered.
He pulled back long enough to search her eyes. He seemed to need reassurance from her that all of this was okay.
