Nothing.
Checking her watch, she realized she only had ten minutes to make her bus to Sweet Creek. If she thought she was in danger of being followed, she wouldn’t go to the ranch. She couldn’t risk their lives. She’d come up with another way to survive, to work.
With hurried steps, she approached the curb and grabbed a taxi that had just dropped off a customer. After seated in the back, she gave the driver the address of the bus depot and kept vigilance on the traffic around her. Ten minutes later, the driver stopped in front of the bus depot, and Hannah ducked inside. Again assessing the nearly deserted station, she saw nothing to alarm her.
Quickly purchasing her ticket, she strode to the bus, gave the driver her big bag, then made her way to the back by the exit, where she deposited the smaller suitcase in the seat by the window. She slid down just enough to keep an eye out the window but not be in full view of anyone on the sidewalk or in a car.
Then she watched the station and the passengers who entered the bus. She purposely forced deep air into her lungs. Her pulse rate finally slowed to a normal rate.
If there had been someone after her, then it had been a close call. Probably she overreacted, but she’d decided long ago she would rather do that than be wrong. Being wrong meant she could be dead. There was no choice.
However, the fact remained, she’d stayed too long in Billings. She’d come to care too much for Saul and allowed herself to pretend he still needed her when he hadn’t. She would make sure her time at the Triple T Ranch was shorter. If there were no complications, Misty should be fine without home health care in seven or eight weeks.
Perfect for her. As much as she loved Montana and its wide-open spaces and breathtaking scenery, after this job she would have to move to another state. She really should have before now, but there was something about Montana that had touched a need in her. She wanted to stay in the state. That was a luxury, like so many others, she couldn’t afford any longer.
Micah McGraw, a Deputy U.S. Marshal in Montana, picked up the phone and placed a call to his brother, Jackson, a Special Agent in the Chicago FBI field office. “I lost Hannah Williams. She must have seen me and figured I was tailing her. She bolted out of a cab and into an office building. I searched it but couldn’t find her.”
“Do you think Hannah Williams is Jen Davis?” Jackson asked, a tired, exasperated tone to his voice.
“Her hair’s different, but that’s easy enough to change. From a distance she looks like the photo I got from her file.”
“Then my informant was right. I hope she left Billings then because the Martino crime family is moving in on her. There are similarities between Eloise Hill and Jen Davis that will get her killed.”
“I wish the marshal who was Jen’s contact hadn’t retired and moved to Arizona. We could use a positive identification and someone who Jen knows. Is there any way the informant can stop them from pursuing her? Jen Davis doesn’t have anything to do with the Martino crime family.”
“I don’t think so. The informant contacts me, not the other way around. Jen could be murdered before I speak with her again so find her, Micah. Too many have died at the hands of the Martino family.”
“I’m trying. I’ll keep you informed if the woman’s trail is picked up.” Micah replaced the receiver in its cradle and stared out the window of his office. The name of the program he was a part of mocked him. This was one witness he couldn’t protect. And it certainly wasn’t what he’d signed up for—watching helplessly as another was killed.
THREE
Hannah stared out the window of her bedroom at the Triple T Ranch. Big snowflakes drifted to the ground to disappear between the brown grass blades. Until she’d come to Montana she’d never seen snow and had marveled at the beauty of the landscape after it fell that first time. For a while a pristine white blanket had covered the ground and silence had reigned until a child’s laugh of glee disrupted the stillness. Bundled up in layers of clothing, the boy, no more than seven, had come outside, pulling his sled toward the top of the street. In that moment she’d fallen in love with the state.
But on the long bus ride this morning, she’d firmed in her mind to leave Montana after this job. It was a big state, but she’d outlasted her welcome. Maybe she could find another place with snow that often lay undisturbed for acres and scenery that could steal her breath and make her forget everything but its beauty.
Again she would have to leave behind something she loved. Her future stretched before her in bleakness.
Turning away from the sight of the snow beginning to accumulate, Hannah opened her large suitcase and began to unpack. Dinner would be in thirty minutes and what little she had wouldn’t take that long to put away. She’d finish and go get Misty. She felt so comfortable with the little girl, and maybe for a while, she could imagine Misty was her daughter.
Spending time with the child this afternoon had been the bright spot in an otherwise difficult day. Sitting in the back of the bus, she’d kept an eye on the vehicles on the highway. She was sure no one had followed her from Billings, but she would keep up her guard anyway. It was her life now whether she liked it or not.
However, the hardest time today had been driving with Austin Taylor to his ranch. When he had talked to her, it had been one question after another about her past. Questions she’d avoided as best she could. She could tell he was suspicious of her, even though a friend of the family had recommended her, which had made her wonder why he’d hired her in the first place. That had been resolved when she’d seen Caroline again. She’d hugged her as though she were a member of the family and had told her she was perfect for the job.
But not in Caroline’s grandson’s eyes.
She would have to remember that and especially keep her guard up around him. Every word would have to be carefully thought out.
Quickly she put her clothes in the drawer or hung them up in the closet, then she left and went into Misty’s room next door. “It’s snowing.”
“It is? I love to play in the snow.” The little girl sat in her bed, listening to her MP3 player. She removed her earplugs.
“So do I. I can’t seem to get enough of it.”
The corners of Misty’s mouth turned down. “But I can’t play in it.” She slapped her hand on her leg cast.
“We’ll have to talk to your dad. Maybe we can figure something out. There are a lot of ways to enjoy snow.”
The expression on the little girl’s face brightened. “Yeah.”
“You ready for dinner?”
Misty nodded and threw back the covers. “Granny told me we’re eating in the dining room tonight. We hardly ever.”
“You don’t?”
“No, but Granny wanted to for your first night with us.”
Hannah brought the wheelchair to the side of the bed and transferred the child to it. “Show me the way.”
Misty giggled. “You know it. You saw it earlier.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I might get lost in this big house. I’m used to a small apartment.”
Her giggles increased. “Follow me.” Misty guided her electric wheelchair from her room and down the hall to the foyer then the dining room. “We’re here.”
Austin paused in scooting his grandmother’s chair in to the table that no longer sat twelve. “So you are. Here I’ve got a place just for you.” He patted the table, halved in length, next to his seat.
While Misty maneuvered right up to her spot, Hannah sat across from the little girl with Caroline on her right. On a white tablecloth with lacy trim were ivory-colored china with gold edging, crystal goblets and gold utensils. The room mirrored Caroline’s elegance.
“Daddy, can I talk?”
For a few seconds a puzzled expression crossed Austin’s face before he started laughing. “This isn’t Grandma Kline’s. Sure you can, munchkin.”
“It’s snowing outside. Can I go out after dinner?”
“We’ll have to protect your casts.”
“That shouldn’t be hard. We can throw a couple of raincoats over both of them.” Hannah unfolded her white linen napkin and spread it in her lap.
“And your father finished the ramp this afternoon.” Caroline passed the platter of roast beef to Hannah.
“Great. I won’t have to stay on the deck.”
The smile on the little girl’s face touched Hannah with joy. “The first time I saw snow I made the biggest snowman I could.”
“We could make one. I love making snowmen.”
“Hold on, Misty Taylor. If it’s snowing, you don’t need to go down that ramp. It could be slippery.”
“But, Daddy, you know how I like to catch the flakes on my tongue.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“We can make snow ice cream instead. All we need is some evaporated milk, sugar, vanilla, and a couple of eggs and, of course, snow.” Hannah shifted her gaze to Caroline. “If you don’t have evaporated milk, we can use regular milk. I know several ways to make it, depending on what you have on hand.”
“Can we, Granny?”
Enthusiasm in Misty’s voice caused Hannah to smile. “You haven’t made snow ice cream before?”
The little girl shook her head. “Granny?”
“It sounds like fun. I think we have everything, even the evaporated milk.”
“I don’t think I ever made any. I did put a snowball in the freezer once and used it on Dad in the spring.” Austin took the platter Hannah passed to him and forked several slices of the meat, then proceeded to cut some for his daughter who only had the use of one hand.
“Yes, I remember my son had a knot on his forehead after you threw it.”
Misty crunched her brow in puzzlement. “Snow’s soft.”
“Yeah,” Austin said with a chuckle, “until you put it in the freezer and it hardens into ice. I have to say Dad wasn’t too happy with me, so don’t try it, munchkin. I hid in the barn for the rest of the day.” A faraway look entered his eyes. “I hadn’t thought about that in years. The stunned look on my father’s face was priceless. It was about fifty degrees, and he’d been working so hard his forehead was sweaty. I actually thought it was a good time to use the snowball.”
Caroline smiled. “I never told you, but your dad thought it was, too. After you hightailed it to the barn, he burst out laughing, picked up what was left of the snowball and used it to ice his head until he could get inside and get a bag of ice.”
“He did?” An incredulous expression hiked Austin’s eyebrows. “He acted angry when I saw him that night.”
“All a pretense.” Caroline gave Hannah a bowl of potatoes, carrots and onions. “How about you? Did you ever get into a snowball fight?”
Hannah scooped the vegetables onto her plate. “No, I hadn’t seen snow until I came here.”
“No snow?” Misty asked with surprise.
“Not in southern California.”
“So that’s where you lived before coming to Montana? Where in southern California?” Austin’s interrogative tone marked his words as it had in the Jeep while he drove her to the ranch earlier that day.
“Los Angeles,” Hannah said, gripping her fork. She felt relatively safe with the true answer because in Los Angeles County the population was close to ten million. He’d have to dig pretty deep to come up with any information on her from that answer.
“So you grew up in L.A. before coming here. Were you a home health care provider there, too?” Austin took the rolls that Hannah handed him after snagging one for herself.
“No.” She wouldn’t offer any extra information unless asked, and then she would try to keep it as close to the truth as possible. She didn’t want to be tripped up later with a contradictory statement. But whenever someone began asking too many questions, a headache throbbed behind her eyes.
“Austin, quit the third degree. Say grace please.” Caroline bowed her head.
Both Misty and Austin followed suit. Hannah stared for a few seconds at them then dropped her gaze to her plate as Austin’s deep, husky voice sounded in the stillness with a prayer of thanks for bringing Misty home safely.
Even though this was her second night at the ranch, sleep evaded Hannah as it usually did in a strange place until she felt settled in. Flipping back the covers, she rose and slipped into her terry-cloth robe, belting it as she covered the distance to the door. Yesterday Caroline had made it very clear she was to make herself at home while she was here.
And she intended to—if that were possible with Austin watching her every move. When she lived in a separate place from her patient, she had down time, which wouldn’t be possible here at the ranch. She felt as though she were an actress onstage 24/7. That was why she usually had her own place.
Hannah headed for the kitchen. A hot cup of milk often helped her get to sleep. After putting a pan on the stove, she walked to the window to watch the snow continue to fall. She loved seeing that, and since she would soon be gone from Montana, she would enjoy it as much as she could.
“Can’t sleep?”
Austin’s deep, husky voice startled her, spinning her around so fast she nearly lost her balance. She clutched the counter nearby and steadied herself. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Sorry. I took my boots off.” He pointed to his feet clad in socks. “I was going upstairs to bed when I saw the light on in the kitchen. I thought the cook had left it on.”
“Rene is a very good cook. The meal tonight was as delicious as last night’s.”
His gaze shifted to the stove, a question in his eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep so I’m heating some milk.”
“That works?”
“Yes—at least for me it does. I don’t like taking any pills to help me sleep.” They would make her too groggy if she had to get up fast and think of an escape plan. She still remembered the other night when she had awakened from the nightmare, and it had taken her a few moments to get her bearing. And that had been without any aids to help her sleep.
“I’ll have to give it a try. I usually just work in the office until I can’t keep my eyes open. Tonight even that isn’t working.”
“What’s on your mind?” Hannah walked to the refrigerator and grabbed the milk to pour some more into the pan.
He shrugged. “Stuff. I don’t want to bore you with the running of the ranch.”
After she added more milk, she put the carton back in the fridge. “I can’t imagine running a ranch being boring.”
He smiled, the gesture encompassing his whole face. “It isn’t really. Not to me.”
“But something must be bothering you.” Is it me?
“I found a cigarette butt in the barn today, which means that one of my hired hands is smoking on the job. I’ve always insisted if you’re going to work at the Triple T that you don’t smoke on the job and especially in the barn. It’s a fire hazard with all the hay around.” He leaned against the counter near the sink, kneading his nape. “I’ve never had a problem with it until now.”
“Have you hired anyone new?”
“A couple. Rodney has been here since January and Cal I took on a few weeks ago. I got the impression from both men they didn’t smoke.”
“They might not have wanted to say anything to you in order to get the job. I’d take a look at them first. Does anyone you know who works for you smoke?”
“Three. But it’s never been a problem. In fact, I think Kevin quit this past year.”
When the milk was heated, Hannah poured two mugs full of the hot liquid then gave one to Austin. “Any visitors lately?”
“Besides you? No. Not for a week.”
“Thankfully you can rule me out since I just arrived. I don’t smoke and I haven’t left the house except when we all went out front for Misty yesterday evening. All you can do is keep an eye on the new guys and check out the ones you know smoke. Of course, it’s possible someone just started or never told you.”
Austin folded his long length into the chair at the oak table in the kitchen. “I’ve already questioned all my employees. Everyone denies it is his cigarette.”
“Then one of them is lying to you.”
“Yeah, I can put up with a lot, but lying isn’t one of them. I’ve found the truth always comes out in the end.”
Hannah dropped her gaze to her milk. She hoped her “truth” didn’t come out in the end. She didn’t know how to stay safe and not lie about who she was.
“Now when I discover who it is, I’ll have to fire him.”
“No second chance?”
“I could have excused the smoking in the barn but not the lying about it. I could never trust that person again and trust is important to me.” Austin’s intense gaze drilled into Hannah.
She resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. Quickly she lifted the mug to her lips to give herself something to do. But over its rim, her eyes locked with his, and she couldn’t look away as though he’d roped her to him.
Putting her drink on the table, she finally dragged her gaze away. “Well, I hope you catch the culprit. I can image the damage a lit cigarette can do in a barn with all that hay and wood.”
“And miles from the nearest help. We do have some fire hoses we can use and a water source, mostly to keep one from spreading. If a barn is set on fire, it can be difficult to stop. When I was a child and my father was still alive, our barn caught on fire, and it burned to the ground in two hours. There was nothing my dad could do to save it. Some of the animals even died in it. I never want to go through that again.”
“I haven’t had a pet in years, but when I did and something happened to her, I grieved as though a member of the family had died.”
“That’s the way Misty feels about Candy and our dog, Barney, that stays at the barn.” He grinned, two dimples appearing. “Actually I’m kinda partial to Barney myself. He’s been around for twelve years.”
“Didn’t I see a kennel off the barn?”
“Yeah, I have dogs that work the cattle. Barney used to when he was younger. Now arthritis has set in, and he doesn’t move as fast, but he sure can bark. Best watchdog.” Austin took a sip of his milk. “So what kind of pet did you have?”
“Cats. I’ve always had them.”
“But not now.”
It wasn’t a question because if she had a cat now it would be with her, but for some reason she felt she needed to make a comment. “As you know, I travel around a lot. It becomes difficult taking an animal with me and occasionally I’ve lived at a place like I am here, so it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a pet.”
“Do you miss having one?”
“Yes.” That was an answer from the heart. Every day she missed Callie, her last cat she’d left behind when she’d fled the Witness Protection setup. Risking being caught, she’d stopped at a house of a coworker who loved cats and left Callie with her. She would be thirteen now. Callie used to listen to her problems and just holding her and petting her would make things better. Hannah had nothing to help her now, and there were times she felt as if she were going to fall apart from the stress and heartache.
“We have a cat that stays in the barn. She’s been with us for a year. Great mouser. She and Barney get along great. You should go down there and meet Snowball. Misty named her. Snowball appeared one day in the barn during winter in the middle of a snowstorm.”
“Can I take Misty to the barn? That is, if this snow doesn’t last long.”
“Sure. One of my ranch hands clears the snow fairly fast around the house and barn. A visit to the barn might brighten her mood. My daughter is an active little girl, and lately her activities have been curtailed drastically.”
Hannah finished her milk. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”
“According to my grandmother, you’re just the person to accomplish that.” Rising, Austin grabbed her empty mug and his and took them to the sink. “The first decent day, I’ll have to show you around the ranch.”
“On a horse?”
He faced her, eyeing her. “Is that panic in your voice?”
“I’ve never been on a horse, so I doubt that would be the best way to see the ranch.” The thought of getting on a horse didn’t appeal to her at all.
“Actually I have several motorized vehicles I use here at the ranch.”
“Then Misty could go?”
“Yeah, although her favorite way to see the ranch is on Candy.” He lounged back against the counter, clasping the edge of it on either side of him.
“Seeing her with Candy yesterday evening, I certainly understand. Her whole face transformed when you brought the mare up for your daughter to pet.”
“I hope nothing happens to Candy. Misty couldn’t take another death.”
“I can imagine.” Her mother was alive but knowing she would never be able to see her bereaved her as if her mom had passed away. “I’m so sorry to hear about your wife dying. Misty said it makes you sad when she talks about her.”
Austin flinched. “Not sad. More like angry. Not at my daughter but Jillian. If she hadn’t taken her that night, Misty wouldn’t be in the situation she’s in right now.” He shook his head as though ridding himself of some unwanted image and pushed off from the counter. “I think your milk remedy is working. I need to head to bed. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”
With a glance at the clock over the stove, Hannah rose. Although Austin tried to suppress his anger toward his wife by wiping any from his expression, it flowed off him in waves, the tension in his body palpable.
“And my daughter wakes up early.”
“I gathered that from this morning. I’m an early riser, too.”
“Even when you go to bed at three?”
“Yes, even then. It takes me a while to get used to a new place. This is normal for me.”
At the end of the hallway near her bedroom, he angled toward her. “Then why don’t you stay in one place?”
If only I could. I would gladly give up this lifestyle to put roots down in one place. “I fill a need.” Which really wasn’t an answer. She could see in his eyes he wasn’t satisfied by the reply. She forced a yawn. “I think the milk’s working for me, too. Good night,” she quickly said and hurried toward her room before he pursued the reason for her wanderlust.
She closed the door and leaned back against it, breathing deep inhalation to calm the galloping of her heartbeat. It was too easy to talk to Austin when he wasn’t in his interrogation mode. For a while in the kitchen she’d forgotten her past and was totally into the moment with him.
I can’t do it. I’ve got to keep my guard up.
For a second she thought of praying to the Lord for strength to keep going with her charades. But then, why should she? He hadn’t answer her last prayers in Los Angeles or when she’d first come to Montana. Obviously she wasn’t worthy of His attention.
As the first rays of light spread across the landscape the next morning, in the barn Misty presented her flat palm with a piece of an apple in it to Candy. When the horse plucked the treat from her hand, the little girl giggled. “She always tickles me with her nose.”
Hannah inched closer to the stall door. In an area no bigger than ten by ten feet being confined with a horse, even a small one, wasn’t her idea of something fun to do. But it was Misty’s and that was why Hannah would stay. Her heart tapped a mad staccato, however, against her chest.
“This was the bestest idea, Hannah.”
“We’ll probably need to be getting back before your dad and Caroline wonder where we went before breakfast.”
“Can we come back later today? I like coming to the barn better than Daddy bringing Candy up to the house.”
“Yeah, that is if it doesn’t snow. The sky was pretty gray. And of course, if it’s okay with your father.”
“It’s not gonna snow, and Daddy will be fine about it.” Misty’s expression mirrored all her hope that sounded in her voice. “Before the wreck, I always got to feed Barney. Can we before we go?”
“Sure. Where’s the food?”
“In the storage room.” Misty nestled her face against Candy’s head.
“Will you be okay while I go get it?”
Misty laughed. “Nuthin’ gonna happen with Candy here.”