Snowbound with the Bodyguard & The Cowboy's Secret Twins: Snowbound with the Bodyguard / The Cowboy's Secret Twins

Another gunshot exploded in the quiet of the night and the snow next to where Dalton and Janette lay kicked up. The shots had come from the direction of a large oak tree in the distance. Janette screamed again and Sammy’s cries added to the melee.

Dalton’s heart crashed against his ribs and he thought he could feel Janette’s heartbeat through their coats. “I’m going to roll off you and start firing. When I do, run like hell to the truck and get inside. Stay down.” He fumbled in his pocket for his keys and gave them to her. “And if anything happens to me, drive away and don’t look back.”

He didn’t give her time to protest or accept, he rolled off her and began firing at the tree. At the same time he heard the sound of a siren in the distance and knew that somebody had heard the shots and called for help.

When he saw that Janette was safely in the truck, he stopped firing and waited to see if there would be an answering volley.

Nothing.

For a long moment he remained where he was, not moving, but listening…waiting…wondering if the threat still existed or not.

He got up into a crouch as the siren grew louder. Still no answering shots. He had a feeling the shooter had run at the first sound of the siren. He hurried to the driver’s side of the truck and was surprised to see George come burrowing up from the snowdrift and running to throw the suitcase in the back of the truck bed.

Dalton had just backed out of the driveway when Zack’s patrol car came screaming to a halt. “Get down,” he ordered Janette. She bent so she wasn’t visible and Dalton was grateful that at the moment Sammy wasn’t wailing. He rolled down his window as Zack rolled down his.

“Call the fire department, and see to George,” Dalton said. “I’ll be in touch.” As Zack yelled a protest, Dalton pulled out onto the street and sped away from his brother, the house and the quiet, solitary life he’d led.

Thankfully, Janette remained silent as he headed out of town and kept a watchful eye on the street behind him for anyone that might be following.

He needed to think.

Zack was a newly elected sheriff and aware of everyone’s eyes on him. After the disgrace of Jim Ramsey, the last sheriff of Cotter Creek, Zack was proving himself to be a strictly by-the-book kind of lawman.

Dalton believed in rules, but sometimes rules had to be bent, even broken, and he wasn’t convinced that Zack would see things his way.

If Brandon Sinclair had an arrest warrant for Janette, then Dalton feared his brother would feel it necessary to turn her over to him. He wouldn’t want to put himself in the middle of a problem that wasn’t his, especially in bucking the authority of a fellow sheriff.

“Where are we going?” Janette asked, finally breaking the tense silence in the truck as they left the town of Cotter Creek behind.

“A place where you’ll be safe until we can figure things out,” he replied.

Besides, if he did decide to confide in Zack, what could he tell him? That a strange woman had shown up on his doorstep and had initially lied about everything, but finally had told him a story that he believed?

Zack would ask for cold hard facts and Dalton had none. He couldn’t prove that Brandon Sinclair had set the fire tonight or fired the shots. No doubt Sinclair hadn’t used his service weapon; ballistics would probably lead to a dead end. He couldn’t prove that Janette hadn’t stolen money from her employer, although he could attest to the fact that she hadn’t been anywhere near that trailer when it had gone up in flames. Unless Sinclair screwed around with the reported date of the fire.

He didn’t want to put his brother in the untenable position of having to choose between doing his job or supporting Dalton’s decision to break the law by hiding Janette.

He’d talk to Zack, tell him who he thought was responsible for both the fire tonight and the gunfire, but he wouldn’t tell Zack where Janette was hidden away. He wouldn’t give her over to Zack, who might find himself with no alternative than to turn her over to Sinclair.

He cast a quick glance at the woman in the passenger seat. She bounced Sammy in her arms and asked no more questions about where they were going or what they were going to do.

She trusted him.

After two snowbound days together, she trusted that he was taking her someplace where she’d be safe. It shocked him, awed him, and if he were to admit the truth to himself, it scared him more than just a little bit. She was placing not only her life, but also the life of her little boy directly in his hands.

He clenched the steering wheel tightly. He hadn’t signed on for this, had simply offered a woman and her baby shelter from the storm. A tiny spark of anger filled him. He didn’t want this responsibility. Since the debacle with Mary he’d consciously backed away from being involved with anyone, even his family. He didn’t want anyone depending on him, needing him.

He didn’t want the responsibility, but now that he had it, he couldn’t turn his back. Janette had been trapped by the storm, and now he was trapped by her circumstances.

* * *

Janette thought she might be in a mild state of shock. She couldn’t process the fire, the gunshots and now a drive down narrow, slick roads with darkness all around.

She should be terrified, but she wasn’t. She was beyond terror and instead felt only a weary resignation, a stunning knowledge that she was no longer in control of her own life.

She glanced at Dalton. In the faint illumination from the dashboard his handsome features looked grim and more than a little bit dangerous. She could only imagine what was going through his mind right now.

Because of his kindness to a stranger, his home had been set on fire, he’d been shot at and he was now making a dash over the snow-slick roads to a safe place.

“I’m so sorry I got you involved in all this,” she said. “All I wanted to do was leave town.”

His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as she felt the back end of the truck slide out. She caught her breath, then relaxed as he skillfully steered into the skid and straightened out the truck.

“I know,” he replied. “We’ll talk when we get where we’re going.”

That comment effectively staunched any other conversation she might have wanted to have. She cuddled Sammy closer against her and stared out the passenger window, where no lights from houses broke the darkness of the night.

He seemed to have a plan and she was grateful, because she had none. She couldn’t return to his apartment because it was obvious Sinclair knew she was there. She felt terrible that she’d now placed Dalton in a horrible position. If he didn’t turn her over to the sheriff, then he was breaking the law and could face even uglier repercussions of his own.

She’d like to be able to tell him just to drop her off somewhere, that she’d figure things out on her own. But that wasn’t an option either. She couldn’t go back to Sandstone and she couldn’t get out of Cotter Creek. She was in a horrible state of limbo, with Brandon Sinclair like a hound dog sniffing her scent.

She sat straighter in the seat as Dalton turned off the main road and through an iron gate. He doused his headlights as they approached a large ranch-style home.

“That’s my dad’s place,” he said as they drove past the sprawling one-story house. “It would be better if nobody knows you’re here on the property.”

That explained him dousing the truck lights. They entered a pasture area and he threw the gears into four-wheel drive as they hit the thicker snow where no plows had been.

They passed another house where lights shone from several windows. “That’s my brother Tanner and his wife’s place,” Dalton said.

Still they didn’t stop. Once they’d passed the second house Dalton turned the truck headlights back on. There were other tracks in the snow. In one area it looked as if several trucks or cars had made figure eights.

An area of thick woods was on their right, mostly evergreen trees, which she assumed provided windbreaks. Eventually Dalton turned through a small break in the trees and pulled to a halt in front of a small cabin. Trees completely surrounded it, tall evergreens that made it impossible to see the place unless you were right on top of it.

“Who lives here?” she asked, nerves jumping in her stomach.

“For now, you do,” he said as he shut off the engine. “At one time or another, I think all of my brothers have lived here for short periods, but for the last couple of months it’s been empty. You should be safe here.”

She should have been safe on the road between her home and the community college. She should have been safe in Dalton’s apartment. She couldn’t afford to take her safety for granted anymore.

“Come on, let’s get you inside and settled,” he said as he opened his truck door.

Janette got out of the truck and stared at the cabin. There was nothing welcoming about it. Illuminated only by the faint cast of the moon filtering through the trees, it looked dark and cold and forbidding.

She tightened her grip on Sammy as she followed Dalton up the stairs to the front door. He used a key to unlock it, then pushed it open, flipped on a switch that lit a small table lamp and ushered her inside.

The sense of welcome that had been absent from the exterior was present inside. Plump throw pillows covered a dark-green sofa, and a rocking chair sat next to the fireplace. The wood floor gleamed with richness except where it was covered by braided rugs.

“It’s nothing fancy,” Dalton said as he wheeled the dial of the thermostat on the wall. “There’s a bedroom and bath and a small kitchen.” He turned to face her. “We’re deep enough in the woods that no one should see the lights, but I won’t light a fire. I don’t want smoke from the chimney to draw any curious people.”

He motioned her to follow him into the small kitchen, where he opened cabinets to show her a stockpile of canned goods. “There’s enough here to hold you for a night or two.”

“You’re not staying?” She tried to keep the fear out of her voice but didn’t quite succeed.

“I’ve got to get back to town and check on George and talk to my brother.”

“What are you going to tell him?” She studied his features, wondering if he’d decide to give her up, that this was all trouble he hadn’t bargained to take on and he was finished with her and her mess.

He swiped a hand through his thick dark hair and leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know for sure. I’m still sorting out things in my head. But I promise you I won’t tell him you’re here.”

He shoved off from the wall. “Things are pretty dusty in here, but there’s fresh bedding in one of the dresser drawers in the bedroom, and it won’t take long for the furnace to warm things up.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she replied, although she wasn’t sure of anything. She wanted to tell him not to leave her, that she needed him to hold her, to wrap her in his strong arms and make her feel safe.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly felt safe. On second thought, yes, she did remember. It had been the night of her bad dream when he had held her and soothed away her fear.

He walked over to the doorway that led off the kitchen and flipped on the light to illuminate a small bedroom with a double bed and a long dresser. “It’s late. You should try to get some sleep. There’s a phone in the living room. I’m assuming you don’t have a cell phone.”

“Where I come from cell phones are a luxury, not a necessity.”

He nodded and headed for the front door. “You’ve got my cell phone number. If you need anything don’t hesitate to call.”

She followed him to the front door, nerves jangling inside as she watched him go out to the truck then return with her suitcase, which George had thrown into the back at the last minute.

“Will you be back later tonight?” she asked.

His green eyes narrowed intently. “I don’t know. I can’t make any promises. For sure I’ll try to be back here sometime tomorrow. Is there anything you need for Sammy?”

“It depends on how long we’re here. If it’s for too much longer I’m going to need some more diapers.” A sense of urgency swept through her. “Surely the bus will run tomorrow and I can get on it and away from here.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and she had a feeling he wanted to say something to her, something she might not want to hear. Instead he turned toward the door. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”

And with that he was gone.

Sammy slept soundly as she laid him on the sofa with pillows surrounding him while she went into the bedroom to make up the bed.

The last thing on her mind was sleep. Restless energy filled her, coupled with a simmering sense of terror that was unrelenting.

Was Sinclair still in Cotter Creek? Those gunshots tonight were intended to kill her. Had his intention been to kill them all, then pluck Sammy from her dead arms?

She now recognized that Sinclair would do anything to get Sammy. The man was insane. Was it truly about him wanting a son, or was it more than that?

Maybe he was angry that she’d left town and was afraid that once she was out of Sandstone, she’d feel safe enough to talk about what he’d done to her. It was impossible to know the man’s mind. A chill washed over her, and it had nothing to do with the coolness of the room.

Once the bed was made she placed Sammy in the middle, then walked back into the living room, knowing that sleep would be a long time coming.

She stood at the living-room window and stared out into the darkness of night, her thoughts going to the man who had just left.

Smelling the scent of his pleasant cologne, which lingered in the air, she wrapped her arms around her middle and tried not to allow herself to wish for a life different than the one she’d been handed.

The memory of that single kiss she’d shared with Dalton warmed the chilled places inside her. What would it be like to kiss him longer, harder? What would it be like to lie naked in his arms, to make love with him?

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