coat, she looked up and down the street. She didn’t know Cotter Creek well. Perhaps there was a bed-and-breakfast someplace nearby where she could spend the night.
A new disquiet soared through her as she eyed the deserted streets. It was just after six but it was as if the entire town had packed their bags and left. There wasn’t a person or a car on the street.
She should have asked to use the phone in the bus station. She should have asked the man where she could get a room for the night. But the nap had dulled her senses, and he’d hurried her out too fast for her to think clearly.
The sight of a phone booth in the distance rallied her spirits. Cotter Creek was near a major highway, and that meant there had to be a motel somewhere nearby.
Pulling the suitcase behind her, she hurried as fast as the slick concrete would allow toward the phone booth, feeling as if luck was on her side as she spied the small phone book hanging on a hook just inside the door.
She stepped into the booth and closed the door behind her, grateful to be out of the cold wind and stinging ice. With cold fingers she thumbed through the book until she found the page with the motel listings. Make that one listing. The Cotter Creek Motel.
Digging change from her purse, she felt Sammy stir as if the rapid beating of her heart disturbed his sleep. She drew a deep breath to steady her nerves.
She’d wanted to get as far away as possible as quickly as possible from Sandstone and Brandon Sinclair. Okay, so she couldn’t get on the bus tonight. She’d cool her heels in a motel room and catch the bus the next day. Although she hated to part with a dime of the money that was neatly folded and tucked into a side pocket in her purse, she really didn’t have a choice.
She had to get out of town tomorrow. Thirty miles was far too close to the devil and his minions. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she was a thousand miles away. Once she got settled in a new town, she’d send for Nana and the three of them would build a new life where Brandon Sinclair couldn’t bother them.
She dropped the change into the slot and punched in the number for the Cotter Creek Motel. A man answered on the third ring. “No room at the inn,” he said.
“Is this the Cotter Creek Motel?” she asked, her hand tightening on the receiver.
“Yeah, but if you’re looking for a room, we’re full up. They’ve shut the highway down up north and I’ve got a houseful of travelers. I’ve even rented out my sofa in the lobby.” He sounded positively gleeful. “Sorry.” He hung up.
Janette held the receiver for a long moment, her heart pumping with panic once again. She hung up and frantically thumbed through the skinny phone book, looking for a listing of a bed-and-breakfast, a rental room, anywhere she could get a warm bed for the night. There was nothing.
She wanted to call her grandmother and ask her what to do. Where to go. But she’d only worry Nana, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
Besides, Janette was an adult. She had to handle this. She was twenty-four years old and a mother, and the most important thing in her life at the moment was little Sammy. She had to get him someplace safe and warm.
She leaned her head against the cold glass of the booth and watched as the ice began to turn to snow and pick up in intensity. What was she going to do? She and Sammy couldn’t spend the night out in the elements.
Desperation filled her and she felt a panic attack coming on. The palms of her hands grew slick with sweat as her throat seemed to constrict. She closed her eyes and drew in deep breaths, forcing the attack away. She didn’t have time to be weak now. Sammy needed her, and she needed to get him someplace safe for the night.
She opened her eyes once again. The clouds and ice were creating an early twilight. She straightened as she saw a light shining from a window of one of the storefronts in the next block.
Where there was light there might be somebody who could direct her to a place for the night. She checked to make sure her coat was securely fastened to keep Sammy as warm as possible, pulled up her hood and tied it beneath her chin, then stepped out of the phone booth and into the wind that had begun to howl with fierce intensity.
She kept her gaze focused on the light, a beacon of hope. It didn’t take long for her gloveless fingers to turn numb and her cheeks to burn with the cold. Ice pellets pinged on the sidewalk and her bare skin.
She walked slowly, carefully, not wanting to fall on the slick walkways. Before she reached the radiating light, she saw the shingle that hung above the doorway. West Protective Services.
She knew that name. She frowned thoughtfully, then remembered. There had been an article in the paper not too long ago, a human interest story about the family who owned and operated a bodyguard business. The article had described the family as honorable, trustworthy people who put their lives on the line for their clients.
If she remembered the article correctly, they had been instrumental in cleaning up Cotter Creek when a development company had tried to take ranch land and had hired people to kill the ranchers.
You have to trust somebody, a little voice whispered in her head. She had no other choice. Once again she felt her throat closing up, a quickening of her heart and a sense of doom that portended one of her panic attacks.
Not giving herself a chance to second-guess her decision, she started for the door. She reached for the door handle just as a man barreled out and into her.
He bumped her with just enough force to cause her to lose her footing on the slippery sidewalk. She felt herself careening backward, but before she could fall, two big strong hands grabbed hold of her shoulders and steadied her.
“Sorry. Are you all right?” His deep voice was nearly carried away by the wind.
She looked up into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. In an instant she assessed him. Shockingly good-looking, bold features, tall, with broad shoulders beneath a thigh-length black coat. He looked at her as if she were an apparition blown from the North Pole.
She had no idea if she could trust this man or not. Under any other circumstances she would never ask a stranger, particularly a man, for help. But she was out of options. “Please…I need help.”
* * *
All Dalton West wanted was to get home and out of the snow. He’d been absorbed in paperwork and hadn’t noticed the weather until he’d gotten up to stretch and had realized the forecasted storm was upon them. He’d hurriedly shut down the computer and turned off the coffeepot, his only goal to get to his nearby apartment. The last thing he wanted was to be snowed in at the office.
But with this woman looking at him with eyes the color of a summer Oklahoma sky, eyes that were filled with both desperation and wariness, he reopened the office door and ushered her inside. She swept past him, pulling a large suitcase behind her as she entered.
As he stepped back inside she turned to face him. “I…you protect people, right?”
He nodded, wondering what she was doing out in the snow. “That’s my job.”
“I want to hire you for the night…to protect me.”
“Protect you from who?” he asked.
She gave a nervous laugh. “Not who…what. I need you
