Cowboy Protector

With each stride that brought the cowboy closer, her heart increased its pounding.

She took a step back.

Nearing her, he smiled, but all she could focus on was the cleft in his chin and another man she knew with one. The sight of it instantly threw her back into the past….

Devon Madison brushed up against her as she left the courthouse. The hatred spewing from him held her immobile. He leaned close and whispered, “I’m coming after you.”

She forced the memory back.

“Are you Hannah Williams?”

The question from the cowboy in front of her whisked her totally back to the present. No, I’m Jen Davis. But not anymore. “Yes.”

PROTECTING THE WITNESSES:

New identities, looming danger and forever love in the Witness Protection Program.

Cowboy Protector—Margaret Daley, March 2010

MARGARET DALEY

feels she has been blessed. She has been married more than thirty years to her husband, Mike, whom she met in college. He is a terrific support and her best friend. They have one son, Shaun. Margaret has been writing for many years and loves to tell a story. When she was a little girl, she would play with her dolls and make up stories about their lives. Now she writes these stories down. She especially enjoys weaving stories about families and how faith in God can sustain a person when things get tough. When she isn’t writing, she is fortunate to be a teacher for students with special needs. Margaret has taught for more than twenty years and loves working with her students. She has also been a Special Olympics coach and has participated in many sports with her students.

Cowboy Protector

Margaret Daley

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Special thanks and acknowledgment to Margaret Daley for her contribution to the PROTECTING THE WITNESSES miniseries.

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

—Psalms 46:1

To Marta Perry, Debby Giusti, Shirlee McCoy,

Barbara Phinney and Lenora Worth—my comrades

in this Love Inspired Suspense continuity series.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

PROLOGUE

Memo: Top Secret

To: FBI Organized Crime Division; U.S. Marshal’s Office

From: Jackson McGraw, Special Agent, Chicago Field Office

Federal Bureau of Investigation

Date: Feb. 24, 2010

Re: Operation Black Veil

Another woman in Montana in the Witness Protection Program has been murdered. Although innocent of having any connection with the Martino crime family, her description is similar to Olivia Jensen’s, the main witness in the upcoming trial of Vincent Martino. Steps are being made to tighten the security around Mrs. Jensen.

U.S. Marshals are searching for Jen Davis, a witness who disappeared two years ago, to warn her about the latest developments with female witnesses in her age range with green eyes and to bring her back into the program, if possible. Marshals have a lead on her whereabouts and are in the process of locating her.

It has been confirmed there are two female targets the Martino crime family is interested in and will pursue to their deaths, Olivia Jensen and Eloise Hill. Contact SA McGraw with any information that will assist the FBI in its case against the Martino crime family.

ONE

Hannah Williams scanned the bus depot at Sweet Creek, Montana, tugging her heavy overcoat closer to her to ward off the chill of the biting wind that swooped down from the snow-capped mountains nearby. When her gaze paused on a stranger, she memorized the face, then moved on to the next one. She’d learned to be totally aware of the people and terrain surrounding her. Her life depended on it.

On her second sweep of the terminal, Hannah spied a newcomer who towered over the others around him. Wearing a black cowboy hat that blended with his black, straight hair and a camel-colored, sheepskin coat, he surveyed the crowd with dark coffee-colored eyes, his strong jaw set in a look of concentration. His tanned features were in stark contrast to most of the people in the depot who were pasty white from hibernating during the winter months. His command of his space touched off an alarm in her. Friend or foe? For a second she poised herself to run in case he wasn’t the man she was to meet.

His intense gaze zeroed in on her. She stiffened and clutched her purse against her as though that would protect her from a bullet.

Run. Find another job, screamed through her mind.

I need the work. A ranch would be a perfect place to hide.

He headed for her, the throng parting to allow him through. With each stride that brought him closer, her heart increased its pounding. She took a step back.

Nearing her, he smiled, straight white teeth standing out against the bronze face, but all she could focus on was the cleft in his chin. Another man she knew had one. Its sight instantly threw her back into the past.

Devon Madison brushed up against her as she left the courthouse. The hatred spewing from him held her immobile. He leaned close and whispered, “I’m coming after you,” in such a chilling, cultured voice she shuddered despite the summer heat radiating off the asphalt in Los Angeles.

She forced the memory back into its box, hopefully never to be opened again.

“Are you Hannah Williams?”

The question from the cowboy in front of her whisked her totally back to the present. No, I’m Jen Davis. But not anymore. She was reminded each time she heard a different name from the one given to her at birth. “Yes.”

“I’m Austin Taylor. Pleased to meet you.” His grin widened, two dimples appearing on either side of his mouth.

When he held out his hand, she shook it, a strong clasp with roughened fingers that fit the man before her.

“Let’s get out of here. We have about a thirty-minute drive to the ranch.” He gestured toward the parking lot. “My Jeep is this way.”

She followed him to a dirt-covered, red SUV and slipped into the front passenger seat. “I’ll need to catch the five-o’clock bus for Billings. Will that be a problem?”

“No. We can talk on the drive. Then when we reach the Triple T, you can meet my daughter, Misty, and spend some time with her.”

“Great.”

The town of Sweet Creek disappeared quickly as Austin headed west. After placing her purse on the floor by her feet, Hannah leaned back against the cushion and peered at the side mirror nearest her. Not any cars behind them. Good. Relaxation eased through her as she angled toward her prospective employer.

He glanced at her. “The person I hire for this job must have a good rapport with Misty. My daughter has been through a lot lately, and her usual cheerful disposition has suffered.”

“You told me on the phone that she was in a car wreck four weeks ago. What are her medical concerns?”

“A broken leg with a cast that goes up to her thigh, a broken wrist and respiratory complications from the air bag deploying. I brought her home yesterday and will need someone to start within a few days. Misty has developed asthma and is having trouble with her breathing, not to mention the fact that it’s hard for a child who was very active before the accident to be immobile. As you’ll see my ranch is isolated. I need someone to be a companion and help with any medical issues that arise while I’m working. Later when her casts come off, Misty will have physical therapy exercises to do. I need someone who can follow the instructions given by the physical therapist.”

“When are the casts coming off?” She didn’t like staying any longer than two, maybe three months in one place.

“The doctor hopes to take the arm cast off in a few weeks and see if he can remove the other one and put her in a leg immobilizer. But even then she won’t be able to bear weight for a while.”

“I’ve worked with patients who need to do certain exercises. That shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

He shot her another assessing gaze. “I’m thankful my grandmother knew of a good friend in Billings who’s using home health care.”

“I’m glad she got in touch with Mr. Peterson. My job with him is winding down. I was starting to look for another one, so this will work out perfectly. That is, if you hire me.”

“Will you be able to start within three days? I got the impression from Granny that Saul was doing much better now.”

Hannah glanced behind her, saw a white pickup a hundred yards back and tensed, her fingernails digging into her palms. Dragging her attention back to Austin, she uncurled her hands and forced a calmness into her voice that she never felt in an unfamiliar environment. No big deal. Trucks are everywhere in Montana. “Yes, Saul’s doing very well.” She pasted a grin on her face. “To tell you the truth, I could have left a couple of weeks ago, but I think he gets lonely and enjoys the company.”

“He only had glowing words to say about you and your work. When Granny got off the phone, she was ready to hire you on the spot, sight unseen.”

But you weren’t, hence the invitation to come to the ranch for an interview and to meet your daughter. “I do have another reference if you need it.” At least on the job before Saul Peterson’s, she’d still gone by the name Hannah Williams. Soon she would change her name again—some variation of Williams or maybe it was time to pretend Williams had been a married name and she was now using her maiden name. She didn’t want to get too comfortable in the same routine.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Hannah reached into her oversized purse and withdrew the manila envelope, then placed it on the seat between them. “Also in there is my resume with my medical training information.”

He peered down at the envelope she laid on the seat between them. “Not only do I need someone who can administer Misty’s medications and tend to her medically, as I said earlier, I need a companion to help take my daughter’s mind off what has happened. According to Saul, you’re quite entertaining. But he’s seventy-six. How do you do with five-year-olds?”

“I love children and have worked with several over the past few years.” And each child has only confirmed my desire to have a family, something that’s unattainable.

“So you’ve worked in Billings. Where else?”

“All over Montana. Before Billings, I was in Great Falls, Missoula, Silver Gorge and White Bend, to name a few.”

His eyebrows rose. “You do move around a lot. I can’t imagine being away from my ranch for too long.”

“Montana is beautiful, and I’ve been to some gorgeous places. I have no ties so I can move freely. Some places are remote and don’t have access easily to home health care. I fill a need.”

“No family?”

Hannah didn’t have a family. Jen Davis did, but that person was dead to the world. She “died” five years ago, and Hannah had to remember that. Any slip could be fatal. “No family.”

“Speaking of family, my grandmother Caroline, the one who knows Saul, lives with us. She’s usually full of energy, but her diabetes is acting up. She wanted to take care of Misty by herself, but that would be too much for her. I want the person who works with my daughter to keep an eye on my grandmother, too. I’m afraid she isn’t taking her medicine like she should. So much of our life has been disrupted with the accident.”

“I also love working with older people. They always have such interesting lives. Why, Saul had been with the rodeo in his younger days, and I got to hear all about how to ride a bull and bronco. Enough to know I don’t want to.”

Austin chuckled. “Neither do I. I’ve spent more time on the ground than I care, breaking horses.”

Hannah peered behind the Jeep and still saw the pickup hanging back about a hundred yards. The tension she’d managed to hold at bay while talking about the job instantly swamped her. When Austin turned off the highway onto a narrow paved road, the white truck mimicked his move. She clutched her hands together, her back ramrod straight to the point it ached.

“Relax. We’re almost there.”

Not five minutes later Austin turned off the road onto a gravel one, driving his Jeep under an arch proclaiming to the world they were on Triple T land. And the pickup trailed them.

Every couple of minutes Hannah threw a glance over her shoulder, trying to draw a decent breath. The truck was still behind them. She compelled air into her oxygen-deprived lungs.

“Do you realize someone is following us?” she finally asked as the SUV headed up a rise in the road.

“Yeah, that’s my foreman. He’d gone to town for some supplies.”

“Oh.” Hannah sagged against the seat, her stress deflating like a balloon being pricked with a pin. She caught his evaluating gaze and cocked a grin. “I just thought it was unusual for someone else to turn off the highway then the road back there.” As usual, she overreacted and needed to work on that. She was safe and nothing remotely dangerous had happened to her since she’d left the Witness Protection Program two years before. Not even the U.S. Marshal’s office in Montana knew where she was, so how was Devon Madison going to find her?

“I employ nine people year-round. I’ve been hiring lately since this is the beginning of our busiest time of year. Some of my employees live on the ranch, some don’t.”

So new people would be arriving at the Triple T. She filed that bit of information away in case she got the job. She would need to keep track of them but not overreact when she saw someone new about the ranch. Searching the landscape, littered with horses on one side of the road and cattle on the other, she realized the Triple T was a huge operation.

The Jeep crested another rise and before Hannah stretched acres of land with a large two-story log home nestled among tall pines and firs. A deck skirted the length on two sides, and banks of floor-to-ceiling windows afforded a gorgeous view of the mountains and pastures cocooning the house. A curl of smoke from the chimney snaked upward toward the clouds.

As Hannah took in her surroundings, tranquility settled over her. A place she could find peace. If only that were possible. Maybe here she could finally stop being paranoid and enjoy the beauty, at least for a short time.

Austin pulled up to the front of his home under a wooden overhang that protected visitors from the elements. Hannah glanced back at the now-paved road and noticed the pickup continue on toward a barn set off about three hundred yards from the house. A corral with several horses in it flanked the structure’s left side while what must be a bunkhouse was on the right with a pen containing a huge, black bull.

As Hannah exited the SUV, a gust of wind blew through the carport, catching her long hair. Strands whipped across her face. She hooked them behind her ears and hurried toward the double wooden and beveled glass doors. One opened, and a small woman in her late seventies supported by a cane stood, her white hair cut short in a pixie. Her bright, dark brown gaze lit when it connected with Hannah’s.

“Goodness. It’s cold out here. I don’t think winter has left us yet.” The woman stepped to the side to allow Hannah to enter the warm house, then waved her hand toward the room to the right. “I have a fire going in here.” She plodded toward what looked like a living room through the opening off the large foyer.

Straight ahead a staircase led up to the second floor with a balcony and wooden railing overlooking the ground level. To the left Hannah peeked inside the dining room and saw a dark walnut table for twelve and two large crystal chandeliers hanging over it. The formality contrasted with the living area that Hannah finally turned toward and followed Austin into.

“This is my grandmother, Caroline Taylor. Granny, this is Hannah Williams.” He indicated Hannah take a seat next to her on the brown leather sofa. Slipping into a chair across from both women, he opened the manila envelope and perused the papers Hannah had included. His gaze collided with hers, held it for a few seconds before he said, “We had a nice chat in the car.” He swung his attention to Caroline Taylor. “Do you have any questions for Hannah?”

“Only one. Will you tell me about the children you’ve worked with? Saul mentioned you loved children.”

“Yes, there was a little boy who lived next to Saul’s and he loved visiting him. I started bringing extra goodies I made for the child and, of course, Saul, who has a sweet tooth.” Hannah went on and described a few children she’d cared for. By the time she’d finished, she’d relaxed back, leaning against one arm of the sofa.

“So you’ve worked with someone as young as Misty?”

“My second client was six. I was with her two months. I hated leaving but was so glad she was better.”

“I expect Misty to have a full recovery.” Austin slid her papers back into the envelope. “Although her casts will come off soon, her ankle was shattered by the accident and she broke another bone in her leg. It’ll be a while before she’s running around and playing like she’s used to. Right now she has a motorized wheelchair, and you better look out when she wants to go somewhere.”

“May I meet her?” Hannah looked from him to his grandmother.

“She was resting, but she should be up by now. We moved her bedroom downstairs next to mine since she’s in a wheelchair. There’s another one on the other side of Misty where you could sleep, and there are two empty ones upstairs where Austin sleeps.”

“I’ll take Hannah to Misty’s room.” Austin rose in one fluid motion.

Hannah followed him from the room, trying not to stare too much at his broad back. Even hidden beneath a white button-down, long sleeve shirt, she could see his muscular biceps. She got the feeling he was very involved in the running of his ranch. His large hands were work roughened, and as he’d driven down his gravel road, his gaze swept the terrain as though he were checking everything out, assessing what was going on. She’d learned to do the same thing but for different reasons. That skill had kept her alive.

He tapped lightly on a door then eased it open, peering inside.

“Is she here, Daddy?”

“See for yourself, munchkin.” He entered, stepping to the side so his daughter could glimpse her.

Hannah grinned and came into the room. “I’m Hannah, Misty. I hear you’ve been a brave little girl.” Crossing to the bed, she took the chair next to it.

Misty sat up, leaning back against the pillows, a pink satiny comforter pulled up over her hips. “Has Daddy showed you the horses?”

“I’ve seen some in the fields, but I haven’t seen any up close. Do you ride?”

The five-year-old nodded, strands of her long, black hair falling forward over her shoulders. “I have a horse of my very own.” Her mouth turned down in a pout. “I can’t ride now.”

Hannah slid a glance toward Austin, not sure what to say to that comment.

“You will when you get better.” He clasped the bedpost that supported the canopy. “Candy is waiting for you. I’m taking special care of her until you can.”

Misty’s warm milk-chocolate eyes lit at the mention of Candy. “I want to see her. I miss her.”

“I’ll arrange something later today. Maybe bring Candy up to the house and let you show Ms. Williams.”

“Oh, please call me Hannah.” She swiveled her attention back to the little girl. “And you, too, Misty.” Hannah was so much easier for her to remember to respond to than Ms. Williams. One of the toughest things she’d had to do was not to forget her new name, which was difficult since it was changing in some way about every six months. “I don’t stand on formality.” She looked again at Austin.

“We don’t here, either. Do we, munchkin?”

“What’s for-ma-now-tee?”

“Remember a few months back when we went to Grandma Kline’s house and had dinner with all those fancy dishes and white lace tablecloth. That’s formality.”

“Oh. I couldn’t talk at the table.”

Austin frowned. “Well, Grandma Kline likes things done a certain way. She never believed children should speak till spoken to.” He moved to Misty and ruffled her hair, then kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t have to worry about that here. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” Then to Hannah, he said, “When you’re through, come to my office at the back of the house.”

“Will do.” Hannah scooted her chair up to the bed while he left the room. “Tell me about Candy. Why did you name her that?”

Misty bent toward her, cupping her hands at the sides of her mouth as if to impart a secret. “I love candy. I love horses.”

“That makes sense. I love candy, too. Maybe too much.” She patted her stomach.

“I ate too much once and got sick. Daddy told me too much of a good thing can be bad for me.”

“Yeah, he’s right.”

Misty’s pout returned. “I haven’t seen Candy in a long time. Daddy says she misses me. But I miss her more.”

Like I miss my mother and little brother. All Hannah wanted to do was hug them again. She’d never let them go. She could still remember the fight her brother and she had gotten into the day before everything in her life had changed. She’d never really apologized and told him she was sorry, not face-to-face. A letter wasn’t the same thing.

Misty hung her head and twisted her hands together. “I miss Mommy, too. She’s with Jesus now.”

Hannah laid her palm against the little girl’s arm with the cast up to just below her elbow. “Honey, of course you do.”

Misty sniffled and knuckled her tears away. “I shouldn’t cry.”

“It’s okay when you’re sad.”

The little girl looked right at her with huge brown eyes, a glistening shine in them. “It makes Daddy sad when I do.”

Hannah’s heart cracked at the pain she heard in the child’s quavering voice. She leaned close to Misty as though telling her a secret. “I won’t tell if you cry when I’m with you.”

The little girl’s forehead crinkled, and a baffled expression entered her eyes. “You wouldn’t tell?”

“Nope. Sometimes girls just need a good cry. Men don’t always understand that.” She wished she had someone who would understand her tears. Someone she could explain the constant fear she lived with. But most people would never understand. Her life was the result of a split-second decision that had wiped everything she was familiar with away.

Austin stood at his large picture window in his office staring at the meadow where some of his horses grazed. He closed his eyes and a picture of Hannah Williams appeared—green eyes like two pieces of crystal, a sparkle in their depths, long, wavy hair the color of cinnamon and delicate features shaped into a beautiful countenance. The kind of beauty that screamed at him to run as fast as he could away from the woman. His deceased wife had that kind of beauty, and her restless spirit had driven her to lengths he’d never imagined when he’d married her.