Keep the knife away from Shannon.
“Shan?” he called again. He thought he heard movement this time, but he couldn’t be sure.
Cruiser cocked his head, a grin splitting his face. “You’re some tough guy, huh, Cowboy?”
“Come at me with the knife, and you’ll find out.”
Cruiser’s brow creased in thought. “I think we’ll have to postpone this little dustup. I’ve already overstayed my welcome. I’m sure you got plenty of nosy cops in this Podunk town, and killing one will just cause a fuss. Don’t you worry, though, Cowboy. I’ll be back, and I will shred this inn and anyone in it to find the girl who busted up our boy T.J. and bring his baby home.”
“Told you before—there’s no girl, not here.”
“My informant thinks differently.”
“And who’s that?”
“None of your business.”
Now there definitely was movement at his feet. Shannon got to her knees, surging into the circle of moonlight. She had a coffee mug in her hand and threw the thing as hard as she could. Unfortunately, her aim was off. Jack shifted the chair to protect his head as the cup smashed into the legs, showering him with shards of ceramic.
Cruiser busted out in a guffaw. Jack used the moment to charge toward him, chair first, but he dodged back easily. There was a sound of pounding footsteps, and Oscar barreled into the room, a rifle in his grip.
Cruiser bolted out the door, with Jack on his heels. He would have given anything to have his rope with him to lasso the guy, but skilled as he was, that was a tall order while running barefoot over the gravel. Cruiser had his escape plan ready. A motorcycle was parked on the grass. Cruiser leaped on, kicked the engine to life and sped away.
Biting back the rage, Jack returned to the kitchen. All the lights were on now, and both Hazel and Oscar were crowded around Shannon. Her eyes were huge, the fear rapidly retreating in favor of anger. Nostrils flared, she gathered her robe around her. Anger. Good. He let out a breath.
“Who does he think he is?” she snapped.
“I called Larraby,” Oscar said to Jack. “He’s on his way.”
Shannon avoided her mother’s questions. “How’d he find us? Did the person you spoke to on the phone tell him?”
Jack realized his hands were balled into fists, so he forced them to relax. “He’s got an informant. Someone close.”
Hazel took Shannon’s arm. “Please, sit down, honey. He hurt you.”
“I’m okay, just winded.” She fingered the imprint of Cruiser’s arm on her throat.
Rage kindled in his belly, deep down, a foreign feeling. He stalked to the window, looking out on the serene pastures that surrounded the inn. Images shot through his brain, the squeak of leather, the tang of sweat, glint of a metal blade. Violence brought home to people who did not deserve it. It boiled his blood.
Cruiser thought he could roll into town and assault Shannon? Terrorize her into giving up Dina’s location or handing Annabell over?
Ain’t this cute? Hubby to the rescue.
Jack’s marriage had ended almost as soon as it began, but at that moment, in the chilly kitchen, he thought he understood what a husband must feel when his wife was under attack. It was a primal, roaring fire that threatened to explode into a conflagration. He could not explain it if someone paid him to. He breathed hard, fighting for control.
She doesn’t want to be your wife, Jack, not really. It’s just a charade.
At that moment, it did not matter. His ring was on her finger, and pretense or not, he would make his stand against Cruiser and the Tide.
* * *
Shannon’s throat pulsed with pain, but she did her best to soothe her mother and convince her uncle to put down the rifle. Oscar left to reassure the guests who had called down to the front desk to ask about the noise.
Shannon thought about Dina, who was running for her life somewhere out in the darkness, desperately hoping her brother would help her.
She closed her eyes, lost in a memory of another day when she’d lived in that very same inn at seventeen years old, waiting for the front door to open or the phone to ring. Daddy loves you, her mother said. He’ll come back.
Daddy doesn’t love anybody, she’d come to realize. He needed adoration, his wife’s, his daughter’s, his mistress’s. Their role was to be the mirror that reflected back to Hal Livingston what he wanted to see.
“Hey.” Jack touched her shoulder, and she whirled toward him.
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes flicked to her neck. Her heart beat hard as he skimmed his calloused fingers along her throat. “You should get that looked at.”
She waved him off. “I’m a doctor. Don’t you think I’d know if I was seriously hurt?”
“Doctors are the worst patients, so I’ve been told.” There was no smile on his face.
“No, cowboys are.”
“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t let you clobber me with the coffee mug.”
That deadpan delivery of his. Now she smiled, and so did he. “Throwing isn’t my thing. You know I never hung out on a sports field.”
“Except when you took your nose out of a book long enough to watch me run track.”
“I was doing my part for the home team.”
“Always had my best times when you were there.” He looked as though he wished he had not said it, his gaze dropping to his feet. Part of her wished he hadn’t, either.
He cleared his throat. “Larraby will be here soon. He’ll press for protective custody for you and the baby. He’ll be right.”
“No.”
“Dina’s not telling you the whole story about her brother.”
“I know.”
Chin cocked, he stared at her. “Why are you trying so hard for her, Shan?”
Shan. Why did her nickname sound so soft on his lips? Like they were still a couple.
“I love you, Shan, and you love me, too. Marry me.”
And she had, and her soul had found happiness for the first time in her life, until reality set in. They’d had the world at their feet, but they were different worlds. He wanted this world, small town, close family, simple life. She wanted to escape to the big city, climb the career ladder and prove to herself and everyone else that she was the best in her field. He was waiting for an answer. Why was she risking it all to help Dina?
