Love in Hiding Page 11

  “Who is it?”

  “Bruce.”

  She opened the door a crack and peeked out. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Can I come in?”

  “I guess.” She stood back.

  He entered the room and grabbed the blanket draped over the couch. “Follow me.”

  “I was going to bed. I don’t think—”

  “Just follow me.”

  The look in her eyes and stiffened back meant she’d challenge him. He blew out a breath. “Please.”

  She sighed. “This better be good.”

  He led her out to the truck, tossed the blanket on top of the hood, and hoisted her up. His hands lingered. He couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. Damn it.

  “I don’t understand what you’re doing.” She tried to scooch down off the hood, but he placed his hands on either side of her hips.

  He’d gotten her this far. He wasn’t going to let her go now. “Has anyone ever told you what a pain in the ass you can be?”

  She seemed to ponder the question. “No.”

  “Well, you are.” He eased up beside her and nudged her shoulders back onto the blanket. “When’s the last time you saw a sunset?”

  Red, orange, and purple streaked across the sky. She drew her knees up, and he pulled the cover over them. “I don’t remember.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes. It is.” Only his gaze wasn’t on the sunset.

  They didn’t talk, focused on nature’s show. He turned in time to see her eyes close. She had to be exhausted from the early mornings, physical labor, and stress of being on constant guard.

  She must have scrubbed her face because it had a pink, clean hue. Her thick lashes fell over eyelids still puffy from crying. This time he didn’t stop himself from stroking her silky hair splayed on the blanket.

  He fought the strong urge to wrap her in his arms. Instead, he hopped down and came along the side of truck. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light shake. “Sarah?”

  She made a small noise and rolled over to lean against his chest. Okay, he’d tried. He picked her up, and she snuggled against him, her head on his shoulder. For a moment, he held her and inhaled her sweet scent, warming his lungs.

  He tightened his grip and scanned the woods, jaw set. No one would ever hurt her. Not on his watch. He carried her into the suite and slid her body down his to stand. Hell, he needed some space between them now.

  “Where am I?” she murmured and opened her eyes.

  “Home. I wanted to make sure you locked up.”

  She pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Thanks.”

  Yawning, she picked up the key from the table. He stepped outside and waited until the lock clicked. His shirt, still warm from her, molded against him. Now he had a real conundrum. She’d let him in. But he couldn’t risk doing the same.

  Chapter 15

  Rubbing her eyes, Sarah rolled out of bed. Saturday, her day to sleep in, and she still woke up early after another restless night of disturbing dreams. In this one, she’d been performing when a man in the crowd stood and fired shots at her on stage. She’d awakened drenched in sweat, every hair on her body standing up straight.

  The scent of Bruce’s cologne wafted up from her clothes. She halted midstride across the room. Oh, right, the sunset he’d taken her out to watch. She’d never been on the receiving end of caring, supportive, patient Bruce.

  She closed her eyes, brought her shirt up to her nose, and inhaled. His scent, his touch, the feel of his body against hers. Heaven. But all for nothing.

  Even if he did have more than platonic feelings for her, they couldn’t act on them. Her life would never be normal, and he was rooted at the farm. At least he knew about the stalker. It couldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes on the lookout, especially with Todd around.

  Sarah moved to the dresser, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out her pointe shoes. At last she had a little free time to dance. She tied the shoe ribbons in quick, practiced moves, and stepped to the tiny family room. Shoving the coffee table close to the couch, she made a small space to dance.

  She stood in first position and did some pliés. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself back at the studio, the familiar movement of her muscles soothing her. After warming up, she attempted a leap, but her head smashed into the low ceiling. She cursed and fell to the ground, clipping the corner of the coffee table on the way down.

  What a shock. The room wasn’t big enough to perform ballet moves. Desperation had made her try. She rubbed the lump on her head and yanked hard to untie her shoes as a bruise colored her shin. Damn that stalker for taking away her life.

  She pushed off the floor and stormed to the bedroom closet.

  Stuffing her hand into her backpack, she felt around for her gun, then pulled it out. She grabbed the box of extra bullets from her dresser drawer and snagged a handful. At the library, she’d watched a video of how to load and shoot a .380 semi-automatic. Time to see how much she’d learned.

  She tucked the gun and ammo into the pockets of a light, pink windbreaker, along with the hand-drawn target she’d made.

  When she was outside, she glanced at the arena lot where Bruce’s truck and Todd’s Vette sat. Neither man was in sight. Only horses grazed in the fields.

  Two cars she didn’t recognize drove into the lot. She frowned and hurried to the shelter of the woods before anyone noticed her.

  Something shiny in a tree caught her eye. A deflated silver balloon fluttered, tangled in the branches. She glanced back at the farmhouse porch. Maybe that’s what had reflected the sun the other morning. The tension in her lower back eased.

  After trekking into the forest, she found a large tree and tacked up the target. She took several paces back, fumbled to flick off the safety, and raised the gun with one hand. Finger on the trigger, she took a deep breath and shot. The recoil caused her wrist to whip back toward her shoulder. She lost balance and almost dropped the gun.

  Shit. Way too loud. She hadn’t gone far enough from the farm. Her breath caught as she sprinted to the tree and yanked down the target she’d completely missed. She’d have to move deeper into the woods.

  A rustling sound came from a bush behind her. She spun around and tightened her grip on the shaking gun. Beads of perspiration slipped down her neck. Her frantic gaze dashed from tree to tree.

  Bruce shook hands with his two new patients and introduced them to Lynn. As he led the men to the barn to meet Misty, a shot sounded from the woods. His stomach lurched. He swung his head in the direction of the gunfire and scanned the area. Sarah hadn’t been around all morning and might be in trouble.

  The horses in the field skittered about. Debbie came stomping out of the stables. “Someone’s shooting in the woods again.”

  The vets looked around. Probably assessing the safety of the place. Just what Bruce needed.

  He frowned. “Sorry. We get some knucklehead hunters in the area once in a while. Gimme a second to check it out.”

  They nodded. One of them asked, “Need any help?”

  “No, I got it. Be right back.”

  He jogged toward the woods. More than once, he’d had to run off an idiot hunter or some kids with BB guns. That shot hadn’t come from a BB gun, though.

  Bruce stopped in front of a large oak. Tiny bits of paper under tacks caught his eye. Someone had probably torn down a target from the tree. He shook his head. Amateur. A bullet could ricochet back and kill the numskull. Another shot rang out from deeper in the woods. He cursed and made his way toward the sound.

  Whoever was shooting hadn’t tried to hide their path. Muddy footprints and disturbances in the brush made following the trail easy work. He bent for a closer look at the ground. Small shoe prints, and only one set, so no one had dragged Sarah through the woods. The tight muscles across his shoulders loosened. Such tiny feet, though. The size of a child’s.

  He moved quickly
through the forest until he spotted a splash of pink ahead in a clearing. A girl stood with her back to him. Both hands gripped a pistol pointed at a target on a tree.

  He sucked in a breath. Holy shit. Sarah. In one swift move, he leaped out of the woods and disarmed her.

  “Oh my God.” Sarah pressed a hand to her chest. “You scared the crap out of me. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Good. You deserve it. What is this?” He cleared the weapon and flicked the safety on. Blood raged in his ears.

  “It’s my g-gun. I’m learning how to shoot it,” she said, eyes wide.

  “Well, it’s a damned good thing I came along when I did because you were about to have your thumb ripped off when the slide came back. Who taught you how to hold a gun?”

  She bristled. “I watched a video.”

  He shut his eyes and blew out a breath. Unbelievable. A video. She could have killed herself. “Where did you get this?”

  “At a pawn shop.” She nibbled her lower lip.

  “I assume this isn’t registered, and I know you don’t have a license to carry because even I don’t. The laws are strict in Maryland.”

  “I couldn’t register it if I wanted to. Not with a fake name.”

  “What if Debbie called the police and they found you out here shooting an illegal gun? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’d be in?”

  “I’m sure, but I have to learn how to use it.”

  His gaze went to the target. “Seriously? You were shooting at a hardwood tree?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s dangerous. This is why people who know nothing about guns shouldn’t have them. I’m keeping this.”

  “No.” Sarah shook her head. “It’s mine and I want it back. I need it for protection.” She held out her hand.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “I’m not safe,” she said in a panicked voice. “Please, give me my weapon. I have to learn to defend myself.”

  The desperation in her eyes tore at him. She was scared for her life. He paced the area and then stopped in front of her. “On one condition.”

  “What?”

  “You keep the gun hidden in the house and don’t dare bring it back out to shoot. I’ll take you to a place where I can teach you how.”

  “You’d do that?”

  He nodded. “If you’re hell-bent on learning, I’ll show you the right way. There’s a small range out in the boonies where hardly anyone ever goes. We can practice there if you agree to my terms.”

  She tugged on her earlobe. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Joe said he could fix my car tomorrow.”

  Bruce’s stomach seized. He couldn’t let her go. She’d be alone and out of his protection. “You’re safer here than on the run. The suite is secure, and you have people looking out for you.”

  She crossed her arms and rubbed her hands up and down them. “I don’t know…Todd—”

  “Hasn’t done anything and won’t with us all around. Once you leave, all bets are off.” Despite the turmoil inside, he kept his voice no-nonsense-logical.

  “Well…” She eyed the gun. “I haven’t found a place to go yet, and I do want to learn how to shoot. Please, can I have that back?”

  “Promise you’ll do what I asked and not run off half-cocked?”

  “Not funny.” She pursed her lips and nodded.

  Relief ripped the cord and parachuted off his shoulders. He handed her the gun. Pinching the flesh under his chin, he frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” Sarah glanced up at him.

  “Have a problem. You spooked the horses, and Debbie’s back there waiting with my new patients.”

  “Oh no. I didn’t realize you had anyone today. It’s Saturday.” Sarah tapped his arm. “I’m so sorry. I was too close the first time. I moved as soon as I heard how loud it was. Is everyone all right?”

  “Yeah, but you’ve put me in a shitty spot. I don’t lie to people.”

  “I don’t expect you to.” She lifted her chin. “You have a right to be angry. Tell Debbie the truth. If she fires me, it’s not your fault.”

  “No. It won’t come to that.”

  “What do you mean? You said you couldn’t lie.”

  He stared hard at her for a long minute. Lying to Debbie went against his moral code.

  Sarah’s eyes turned glassy. “I might have scared your new patients. I know how important your program is to you. I’m so, so sorry.”

  No doubt from the tremble in her voice. Damn, she made things difficult. “Go back to the house through the other entrance from the woods. The one along the drive.”

  “But what will you tell Debbie?”

  He frowned. Technically, he wouldn’t be lying. “The truth. I found someone who had no idea what they were doing, ran them off, and scared them enough to never do it again.” He raised an eyebrow. “That is the truth, right?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Now go. I have to get back to my patients.”

  She didn’t move.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then ran toward where the woods met the drive.

  He closed his eyes. His cheek tingled where her warm lips had kissed it. He had no clue what to do with her. She’d turned his world upside down. In less than two minutes, she’d made him raving mad, frustrated, worried, scared—

  Whoa, scared?

  He never got rattled. Not even in combat under fire. Yet whenever Sarah mentioned leaving, the chambers of his heart emptied.

  That needed to change. He’d lost enough blood.

  Chapter 16

  Bruce drove into the cemetery and followed the winding road. He pulled off to the side and stopped. Rows of tombstones gleamed under the midday sun. He took a deep breath.

  Emily’s birthday. She would have turned thirty-two. Never thought he’d outlive her.

  He’d come back to the States with a bullet wound, and Emily had been his nurse at Walter Reed. A tough lady with a big heart, she soon won his over. Her straightforward-no-BS approach worked wonders with the soldiers. She knew exactly how to treat them and earned their respect. She found a way to break through the wall Bruce had put up to survive the horrors he’d witnessed while in Special Forces. A year later, he and Emily got married. Her love filled the void left when his parents had died.

  Even though he’d inherited enough money to live a life of luxury, neither of them cared about fancy things. He indulged and bought a beautiful home, but they lived a simple life, hiking and camping for fun.

  He closed his eyes. She’d died two weeks before Christmas. While people celebrated with parties and gift exchanges, his entire world crashed. Now he kept the radio off through the holiday season. Christmas would never be the same.

  With a sigh, he picked up the bouquet of red roses from the passenger’s seat and opened the door. Head down, he marched a straight line behind a row of tombstones until he came to Emily’s. Pink carnations were scattered on the grave.

  Joe. He never forgot. The flowers blurred.

  Bruce knelt and placed the roses in front of her headstone. His chest ached as he rested a hand on the slab and whispered, “No one could ever take your place.” He stayed in that position until his legs went numb. When he stood, pins and needles pricked them.

  “Happy Birthday, Em,” he said softly. Painful memories flooded as he trudged back to the truck.

  Every time he had entered his family room, the tree they’d cut down together mocked him. Ornaments with their wedding pictures, all smiles and full of love, hung on the branches. The gifts he picked out that she would never open glittered under the lights.

  After the funeral, he and Joe went back to the house. Bruce wandered to the Christmas tree, picked up one of the wedding ornaments, and held it so tightly the glass cracked, cutting his hand. He grabbed his truck keys and drove around for hours. When he came back, he opened the door to find everything gone. The t
ree, the decorations, and the gifts. A short note Joe left on the counter said the presents were in a box behind the entertainment center. The next day, Bruce donated them all to a charity for battered women.

  He sold his house fully furnished and moved to a condominium on the water. Like a robot, he threw himself into his job, taking on more PT patients. He lost weight and stopped going out. Friends, supportive at first, fell by the wayside when he didn’t return calls.

  One day, Joe showed up and dragged Bruce to the farm. Said he needed someone to train a lame ex-racehorse he’d rescued.

  Bruce had argued that he didn’t have time, but one look in the proud, injured horse’s eyes, and he couldn’t say no. Looking back, he knew they’d saved each other’s lives from a downward path.

  And damn that sneaky Joe. He’d known it.

  Bruce got into his truck and drove through the open gates of the cemetery. When he reached the farm, he parked in the grass, away from the house and the stables. Today, he’d rather be alone as much as possible. He climbed out and leaned against the passenger door, his gaze on the horses as they grazed in the fields. The mere sight of them calmed him.

  He didn’t turn when the sound of random whistling and footsteps came from behind. A bottle cap hissed, and a beer entered his line of sight. He reached for it as Joe sidled up beside him and leaned against the hood.

  For a while, they stood in silence sipping the beers and facing the fields.

  “Lost a dollar bet yesterday on the Orioles game,” Joe said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Damn Yankees.”

  “That was a tough one.” Bruce ran a thumb up and down the bottle in his hand.

  “Seems it’s always like that. You know?”

  “Like what?” Bruce glanced at Joe, who wore a frown and kept his gaze on the fields.