Lassoed

“You have this whole wing to yourself,” Emma said when they reached one of the rooms that was always made up for guests. “So please, make yourself at home and if there is anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I won’t be here more than tonight.”

Emma smiled. “Get some rest. Sometimes it takes more than a night. You are welcome to stay as long as you need. You’re safe here.”

Billie Rae nodded, tears coming to her eyes. “You’re very kind.”

“No, I’ve been where you are right now.” Admitting it was easier than she’d thought it would be.

For a moment, the young woman looked as if she was going to deny it or pretend she didn’t know what Emma was talking about.

“I was with a man who kicked the hell out of me on a regular basis,” Emma said, surprised how easily too the anger came back. “Oh sure, he was always sorry. It was for my own good. He loved me. It took me a while to realize it wasn’t for my own good, just as it wasn’t my fault and that nothing I did or could do would change him. He didn’t love me. He didn’t know what love was.”

Tears spilled over Billie Rae’s cheeks. “I’m just so embarrassed.”

Emma took her hand and they sat down on the edge of the bed. “Embarrassed? Oh, sweetie, you have done nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I married the wrong man. He … fooled me.”

She nodded. “But you got smart and left him.”

“He told me he’ll kill me and I don’t doubt it,” Billie Rae said, brushing angrily at her tears.

Emma shook her head. “He isn’t going to find you here. Tomorrow you can decide what to do next.”

“You don’t know Duane. I’m afraid he’ll find out that you all helped me and do something terrible to you.”

“Honey, that’s why there’s a shotgun in this house. Trust Tanner. He’s a good man.” She studied the young woman for a moment. “I don’t know if you believe in fate or not, but I can tell you this. Tanner finding you and bringing you here was no accident.”

AS DUANE SAT IN THE empty fairgrounds in the dark, he knew where he’d made his mistake. If he’d gotten Billie Rae pregnant right away, none of this would be happening. But instead he’d listened to his wife, who’d wanted to wait until they were “settled in as a couple,” as she called it.

With a surge of angry resentment, he realized she just wanted to make sure the marriage was to her liking. That he was to her liking.

Duane swore under his breath. Wait until he got his hands on her. He’d show her. She would never pull a stunt like this again. He’d kill her if she did. That was if he didn’t end up killing her this time. He flushed, embarrassed to be put in this position, as the scent of fried food still drifted on the breeze coming through the open window of his Lincoln.

The last of the lights of the rodeo vehicles had dimmed away to darkness in the distance, all headed west. From the faint glow on the horizon, Duane figured the closest Montana town had to be up the highway. He was hungry and tired and even his anger couldn’t keep him going much longer.

Duane looked around. It was just his car now and his father’s pickup.

Where the hell was Billie Rae?

He waited until the night air cooled to a chill before he put up his car window, started the engine and drove down to park by the pickup. Billie Rae would be coming back soon and he didn’t want to miss her.

A thought struck him like a blow. Unless she’d left with someone.

That cowboy he’d seen her with?

He couldn’t get his mind around that. But then he’d thought he’d made it clear to Billie Rae what would happen to her if she ever tried to leave him—or to anyone who helped her. She’d made a friend who thought she could come between them. That friend was no longer anywhere around, now, was she?

Duane had thought Billie Rae had learned her lesson that time. But apparently that hadn’t stopped her from “befriending” someone else who thought they could interfere in his marriage to her.

None of this was like Billie Rae, he thought as the hours wore on, and he felt an uncertainty that rattled him. For the first time, he wasn’t sure he knew his wife as well as he thought he did.

AFTER HER TALK WITH Emma Chisholm, Billie Rae showered, slipped into the cotton nightgown left for her on the huge bed and slid between the sheets that smelled like fresh air.

Emma had also left her a glass of milk and a plate of sliced homemade banana bread. Billie Rae had eaten all of it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was or that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.

For the first time in a long time, she felt as if she could breathe as she got up to brush her teeth with the new toothbrush Emma had set out for her. The cool night air blew in through the open window next to her bed as she crawled back under the covers. The breeze billowed the sheer white curtains. She could see the outline of mountains in the distance, smell sage and hay beyond the fresh clean scent of the line-dried linens on the bed.

But it was the sweet scent of freedom that she gulped in as if she was a drowning woman finally coming up for air. She was still half-afraid to believe it, but lying here in this house, she was filled with a sense of peace like none she had felt since she’d married Duane.

Don’t rest too easy. I’m still out here looking for you. And when I find you—

She took another deep breath, chasing away the sound of Duane’s voice. Like Scarlett O’Hara, she wouldn’t think about tomorrow. For tonight, she was alive and safe, and that was more than she had hoped for.

At a tap at her door, she said, “Come in,” thinking it would be Emma.

“I just wanted to check on you and make sure you have everything you need,” Tanner said, peeking around the door.

“I’m fine.” More than fine. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said. “I’ll be just down the hall.”

She couldn’t help her surprise. Emma said that all the Chisholm sons had their own places now. “I thought—”

“I decided to stay here tonight.” He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “In case you …”

“Needed anything,” she finished for him, smiling.

“Good night, then,” he said and closed the door.

Billie Rae lay in the bed still smiling, remembering what Emma had said. Trust Tanner. She did. She closed her eyes, dead tired, aching for sleep, but quickly opened them as Duane’s image appeared as if waiting to taunt her in a nightmare.

Trust Tanner? Do you really think that cowboy or his whole damned family can save you?

She touched her diamond engagement ring in the darkness, the thick band of white gold next to it a reminder of who she was. Mrs. Duane Rasmussen, as if she could forget it.

Were you listening to that preacher? Till death do us part, Billie Rae. And that, sweetheart, is the way it is going to be, come hell or high water. You understand me, or am I going to have to refresh your memory?

As she spun the band in a circle, she thought about what Emma had said about fate. Did she believe in fate? Tanner had saved her tonight, he’d brought her to this house, to his stepmother, Emma, who had known instinctively what Billie Rae was going through.

Maybe fate had brought her together with this family tonight, but Billie Rae knew she had to run again come morning.

Slowly she took off the rings to set them on the bedside table. The diamond winked at her in the light of the star-filled night coming in through the sheer, billowing curtains.

You really think it’s that easy to be rid of me?

She got up, stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do with the rings. Her first impulse was to throw them away, but common sense won out. The rings were worth money and she was going to need some if she hoped to stay free of Duane. She put them in the pocket of her slacks.

As she climbed back into the bed and pulled the covers up, she felt stronger than she had since she married Duane. It had been fate that she’d met Tanner Chisholm and that he’d brought her to this house. She’d been ready to give up and go back to Duane, believing she had no choice.

But now she felt as if she could do this. She would do this. She had let Duane Rasmussen bully her for too long.

This time when she closed her eyes she pictured Tanner Chisholm’s face. But she didn’t kid herself that Duane wouldn’t be nearby waiting to ruin her sleep.

TANNER WOKE TO SCREAMING. He bolted upright in bed, confused for a moment where he was. As everything came back in a rush, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled on his jeans and ran barefoot down the hall.

His conscious mind told him it was impossible that Billie Rae’s husband had found her here. That there was no way the man could be in the house. Worse, that he could have found the bedroom where she slept and—

He shoved open the door. Faint light shone through the sheer curtains at the large window next to her bed. A shaft of light from the hallway shot across the floor, making a path into the room. Tanner felt his heart break at the sounds coming from the bed. He rushed to Billie Rae.

She came out of the dream swinging her arms wildly. He didn’t have to guess who she was trying to fight off.

“It’s me, Billie Rae. Tanner. Tanner Chisholm.”

Her eyes were wild with panic. She blinked at the sound of his voice and slowly focused on his face in the dim light before bursting into tears.

“You had a bad dream, but you’re all right,” he said as he sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. As he stroked her hair, he whispered, “It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re all right.”

She clung to him, sobbing, her breathing ragged. He could feel her damp cotton nightgown against his bare chest. She was shivering uncontrollably from the cold, from whatever horror still clung to her from the nightmare.

He held her close, continuing to stroke her hair and whisper words of comfort while all the time he wanted to kill the man who’d hurt this woman.

“Your nightgown is damp with sweat,” he said after her breathing became more normal. Shadows played on the walls, the breeze whipped the sheer curtains and outside the window, a branch scraped against the house.

As he started to pull away, she cried, “Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get you something warm and dry to sleep in.” He hurried to his room, rummaged through a drawer where he’d left some of his old clothing. He found a large soft-worn T-shirt and hurried back to Billie Rae’s room.

She was sitting up in the bed, clutching the covers to her chest. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her again. “Here, take off the nightgown and put this on.” He turned his back. He heard her behind him struggling to get out of the damp nightgown and knew she was still trembling from her nightmare.

What had her husband done to her to make her so frightened? He recalled what he’d heard the man say outside the door at the fairgrounds. But he’d thought them merely angry words. It wasn’t until he’d seen the bruised area around Billie Rae’s eye that he’d realized why she was so afraid of her husband.

Now he heard her pull on the T-shirt and lay back against the headboard.

He turned to look at her, jolted again by that strong emotion he’d felt under the lights of the exploding fireworks. Her face was lovely in the faint starlight. He couldn’t imagine her ever looking more beautiful or desirable. Or vulnerable.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” he asked, starting to get to his feet, knowing what could happen if he stayed.

Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He slowly sat back down.

There was a pleading in her brown eyes, along with flecks of gold.

“You want me to stay?”

She swallowed and he could see the battle going on inside her reflected in those big eyes. As he looked down, he saw that she’d taken off her wedding rings. There was a wide white mark where they had been.

He raised his gaze to her eyes again. “Slide over. I’ll hold you until you fall asleep.”

He saw relief, gratitude and something he didn’t dare think about too long in those eyes.

She slid over and he lay down next to her. She moved closer as if desperately needing to know he was still there. He put his arms around her and drew her to him. She fit against him perfectly. He nestled his head against the pillow of her dark, luxurious hair and breathed in her scent. She smelled of soap and summer. He closed his eyes, feeling the steady beat of his heart in sync with hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I—”

“Shh,” he whispered. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

BILLIE RAE WOKE IN THE wee hours of the morning from a wonderful dream. She lay very still, keeping her eyes closed as she tried to get back into the dream. But it stayed just out of reach, slipping further away, and she finally opened her eyes.

She thought she was at home, so when the horrible dread she always woke with settled over her, she closed her eyes again, pleading silently for the dream and the man in it who had made her feel so loved. Like in the dream, the arms around her didn’t hold her as tightly as Duane’s did. Tanner held her gently, not as if he feared she would get away, but more like he wanted to keep her safe.

With a start, she came fully awake. She had gotten away from Duane.

Tanner shifted in his sleep and for a moment she feared he would let her go. She had never met anyone like him. She hadn’t dated all that much before she met Duane. In college, she’d had to get good grades to keep her scholarships and still help her mother, who had by then been diagnosed with cancer, so she’d had no time for a social life.

She’d never been held this tenderly, never felt this safe and secure, never felt … the emotions she was experiencing at this moment—not even the first time she’d gone to bed with Duane. He’d been disappointed she wasn’t a virgin and that had spoiled their lovemaking for both of them. After that, he was always much rougher as if he was punishing her for losing her virginity to the boy she’d dated all through high school and thought she was in love with.

Scott had been a nice boy, but just that—a boy.

After high school, they’d gone to different colleges. They’d stayed in touch for a while, but had grown apart. Billie Rae had been thankful for that since she’d known by then that Scott wasn’t the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

She’d met Duane right after her mother died. Looking back, she saw that he had taken advantage of the vulnerable state she’d been in. She’d needed someone to lean on and Duane had made sure he was there, taking over her life, running it.

The problem was that when she no longer needed him in that way or wanted him to run her life, it was too late. By then, she’d needed and wanted something different from him. But Duane wasn’t a giving, loving man. Nor was he going to let her go. He’d whisked her off to Vegas for a quickie marriage, selling it as romantic.

Hadn’t she known that night, standing in a gaudy wedding chapel on the strip in front of a justice of the peace and his wife, that she was making a mistake? She remembered feeling as if she might faint. Duane had told her she just needed food and that he would feed her right after the ceremony.

Instead, they’d flown straight home as the sun came up and he’d sprung the news on her. They were moving to North Dakota.

Tanner shifted again in his sleep. Billie Rae held her breath, afraid he would awaken and leave her. A part of the dream returned, startling her because there was no doubt that the man in it had been Tanner Chisholm.

She sensed him coming awake and turned in his arms to face him. It was still dark out. In the faint starlight, she could see his bare chest, a light sprinkling of dark hair that formed a V disappear into the waistband of his jeans.

She met his gaze and felt a bubble form in her chest. Her heart began to beat faster.

He started to pull away, but she cupped his jaw and he froze. “Billie Rae—”

Her thumb moved to his lips and she shook her head, her gaze holding his. She hadn’t felt desire in a long time. It felt raw and powerful and urgent. Under normal circumstances she would have never acted upon it with a man she hardly knew.

She brushed a lock of dark hair back from Tanner’s wonderful face, feeling as if she knew him soul-deep. Her fingers tingled at the touch. By the time the sun set tomorrow there was a good chance Duane would have caught up with her and, if not killed her, definitely hurt her.

There were some things she couldn’t live with. Duane was one of them. The other was not acting on what she was feeling at this moment, knowing it might be her last day alive.

Slowly, she leaned toward Tanner and brushed a kiss over his lips. Her pulse thundered in her ears as he gently drew her to him. His kiss was light as the summer breeze coming through the window. His hands came up to cup her face in his warm, callused palms.

Desire burned through her veins like a runaway train on a downhill track. As the kiss deepened, his fingers burrowed into her wild mane of hair. She shoved back the covers, needing to feel the warmth of his body against her, desperate for his human touch after months of flinching whenever Duane reached for her.

Tanner drew her to him, rolling over on his back and pulling her on top of him. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

She kissed him, sat up and then grabbing the hem of the large T-shirt, she pulled it up over her head and tossed it away. She heard Tanner moan, and then his hands were cupping her breasts, his thumbs gently teasing her nipples, which were already hard as marbles.

He drew her down again, kissing her softly. She rolled off him and wriggled out of her panties, desperately needing to feel his warm flesh against hers. She heard him slip out of his jeans and then he was pulling her into his arms. He brushed a tendril of hair back from her cheek.

Their eyes locked as he slowly and sweetly began to make love to her.

Chapter Three

Duane woke in his car, cramped and out of sorts. He couldn’t believe he’d had to spend the entire night in a fairgrounds parking lot in the middle of nowhere.

As he climbed out, he looked into the front seat of his father’s classic pickup, expecting to see Billie Rae curled up there. He’d been so sure she would return, probably with some cowboy with a can of gas for the pickup and some romantic ideas for her.

But he hadn’t heard a sound all night and the pickup front seat was empty. No Billie Rae. With a curse, Duane realized he was going to have to call his boss and ask for some time off.

As for his wife, he didn’t know what to do. First, he supposed, he would search for her himself. Someone had to have seen her. If that failed … Well, he might have to contact a couple of associates he’d met through his work. The nice thing about his job was that he met people who could and would do things for him that he’d rather not do himself. A little pressure here, a little pressure there, and people knew better than to say no to him.

He pulled out his cell phone, swearing under his breath as he punched in the number and asked for his boss. The last thing he’d do was admit the truth. He didn’t want anyone to know what the bitch had done, how she’d made him look like a fool, let alone that he couldn’t handle his own wife. He’d never live it down if his buddies found out about this. Other men lost respect for a man whose wife ran off on him.

No, he would take care of this himself and no one back home would be the wiser. That is, as long as he found Billie Rae fast. And one way or the other, he’d have to convince her never to pull something like this again. Either that or his lovely wife would end up dead, a terrible accident that would leave him a grieving widower—and free to find him a wife who knew her place.

He came up with a lame excuse, but his boss seemed to buy it. As he hung up, he told himself it was now time to deal with the mess Billie Rae had made. Walking around to the driver’s side, Duane unlocked the pickup with his key and stared into it for a long moment, thinking about Billie Rae taking it. The truck had been his father’s, purchased new almost fifty years before. His old man had loved this pickup and cared for it like a baby.

Hell, Duane had never even gotten to drive it until the old man died. His mother had been the one to give it to him—had his father known he was going to fall over dead with a heart attack he would have made other arrangements for his beloved classic pickup.

But Duane’s mother hated the truck and resented the time and money and care the old man had put into it. She’d given it to Duane out of spite, knowing his father was now rolling over in his grave to think that his son had the truck. Which made Duane even angrier that Billie Rae had the impudence to take it. The woman must be crazy. No one drove this pickup but him.

As he slid behind the wheel, he saw that she’d left the key in the ignition and swore. Her lack of respect … He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

He reached to turn the key and saw that it was the spare he kept locked up. She’d broken into his desk? He hadn’t even been aware she knew where he kept the spare key.

Duane felt that strange chill creep over him again. Billie Rae had been watching him, paying more attention than he’d thought.

He turned the key. The engine refused to turn over. That’s when he saw the gas gauge. She’d run out of gas. That’s why she’d stopped here.

The tap on his side window startled him. For an instant, he’d expected to see Billie Rae standing there instead of some old guy in a plaid shirt and a baseball cap.

“Trouble getting her started?” the old man asked.

Duane realized the man must be the caretaker in charge of the fairgrounds. He hadn’t heard him drive up. Duane climbed out, pocketing the truck key.

“The wife. She didn’t check the gas gauge before she headed to the rodeo.”

The old man laughed and shook his head. “I’m surprised you let her drive this. A 1962 Chevy Fleetside Shortbed with a Vortec 350, right?”

Duane nodded as he watched the caretaker run his hand over the hood. His old man had to be turning flips in his casket. He’d never let anyone touch his truck.

“You don’t happen to have a few gallons of gas I could buy from you to get her into town, do you?” Duane asked.

“I haven’t seen her around town,” the man said frowning, still talking about the pickup. “You new to Whitehorse?”

So Whitehorse must be the closest town. “You could say that. If I had a hose, I could siphon some gas out of my car,” Duane said impatiently.

“No need for that. I keep some extra gas for the lawnmower.”

Duane followed the man back to a shed, waited while he unlocked the padlock on the door and went inside, returning with a small gas can that felt about half full.

“I’ll bring this right back,” he said, hoping the man wouldn’t come with him. He hurried off, returning shortly, and handed the man the gas can and a twenty-dollar bill. “Thanks for your help.” He had a thought. “Hey, is there any chance I could leave the pickup in one of your barns out here. My wife is tied up and I need to get back to her. I can’t come back to get the truck for a while.”

“No problem. You can just pull it in that one,” the old man said pointing at the closest barn. “It will be plenty safe there until you can pick her up.”

“Great,” he started to turn away telling himself he had no choice since he couldn’t drive two vehicles and who knew when he’d find Billie Rae. Nor did he want anyone else driving the truck.

“You’re going to have to teach your wife to watch that gas gauge,” the old man called after him with a chuckle.

He was going to have to teach his wife a lot of things when he found her.