that in mind, he saw a woman with a pencil in her hand and a sketching pad in front of her. Her partner’s Hawaiian-themed T-shirt was only a bonus. They were as good a place to start as any.
It was on the sixth try that he hit the jackpot. The woman he asked had not only heard of Tara but she had spoken to her only an hour ago. Within minutes, he was heading toward the sun-faded red stone building where the woman had directed him.
He couldn’t believe it had been this easy. He always felt that easy meant trouble. He walked along the uneven and narrow cobblestone street. It was crowded with merchants, shoppers and even the occasional donkey. As he did, he worried that there was something he had missed.
Five minutes later, he stopped on the edge of a yellow brick building at the junction of two streets. He saw the long blond hair first. It streamed freely down her back. He headed in that direction, going up a short flight of stairs to a small courtyard with a half dozen white metal tables and chairs to where the blond-haired woman was wiping a table.
“Excuse me,” he said.
She turned but it wasn’t Tara and disappointment bit deep.
“I was looking for Tara Munroe,” he began.
“Tara,” the woman said with a bright lilt to her voice. She held out her hand, her eyes alight with an admiration that was impossible to miss. “Siobhan.”
He gave her the briefest of handshakes and didn’t offer his name.
“Is she here?”
The smile she gave him was slightly flirtatious, but her eyes went somewhere over his shoulder.
“Tara,” Siobhan called. “Someone to see you.”
He felt someone else, someone watching from behind. He turned as a door leading away from the common area swung open and another blonde stood there. But this one was familiar.
He knew those high cheekbones. He knew that slightly rounded face. And he knew the dark brown eyes that now held a combination of curiosity and fear. He’d know that face anywhere. He’d looked at it enough times during the flight here, and he’d remembered the girl she’d been, of course. Still, he was stunned by the woman she’d become.
She gave an air of both confidence and fragility. She had matured into a soulful combination of beauty and innocence. If he’d been able to paint at all, he’d paint her, he’d...
She’d been the one who painted, not him.
Siobhan moved around him, standing slightly to his left as she looked from one to the other.
“You know each other?”
He couldn’t take his eyes off Tara.
“Trent,” Tara murmured.
His name on her lips was like a seductive whisper. He felt frozen in time. He stared at her, noticing how her hair moved in the light breeze. She was staring back. She looked shocked, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. He couldn’t blame her. After all, he’d arrived on her doorstep, a memory of her past, without warning.
She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. “Is it really you?”
“It is,” he said and only wanted to hug her, to touch her. To tell her how sorry he was to have left her the way he had all those years ago. He’d apologized for none of that. Even when her father had died, he hadn’t contacted her. Now he stood and waited for her to decide on what the next move would be. He wondered if the past could be redone whether he would have done any better.
She took a step forward. Her beautiful brown eyes were dark, almost stormy, like she sensed trouble. “What are you doing here? Why—”
He glanced at Siobhan. He didn’t want to admit why he was there. Not in front of the woman who seemed determined to protect her.
“It’s all right, Siobhan,” Tara said. “You can leave us alone to talk. I know him.”
As Siobhan left, he pulled out a chair for Tara.
“I can’t believe you’re here and I can’t imagine why,” she said as she accepted the seat he offered.
“I’m a US marshal,” he said.
Her face became pale beneath her light tan. “Like you always wanted to be,” she whispered.
“I did, didn’t I,” he said with some relief at the temporary diversion.
She laced her fingers and her lips pinched together. She refused to meet his eyes as she asked, “Why are you here, Trent?”
“You witnessed a bank robbery in Pueblo, Colorado.” This time it was his official voice speaking.
She looked at him with eyes that seemed weary and doubtful at the same time. Their sheen only reminded him of all she’d been through. He was grateful that he’d put himself forward for this. Grateful that it was him here and not someone else who didn’t know her as he did. Seeing her like this only told him that she needed him.
“Tara.” He reached over and took one of her hands in both of his. Her palm was clammy. It was as if the very mention of what had happened, what she had run from, threw her into an immediate panic. He hoped that he was wrong, that his assessment was off but...
“I can’t believe they sent you all the way here,” she said in a voice that was tired, drained even.
The act of keeping it together seemed to have slipped, like she was too tired to care. He was glad of that. Playing games would only lengthen the process. He wanted to fast-track this and get her home, where he had more resources.
“There wasn’t a choice,” he said, pushing his thoughts aside.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the only witness. Which means that you could put a notorious bank robber behind bars.”
“I know but I’m scared. After what happened to my dad.” She took a breath. “He had police security assigned.”
“A marshal,” he corrected.
“And it didn’t matter. He was the witness that could put a drug dealer away and he was shot in public.” Her voice choked off and it was a moment to regain her control.
He waited, knowing that there was nothing he could do or say that would change any of it.
“I just know that I’m safe here.”
“No, Tara, you’re not.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” she said.
“It was a mistake to run, Tara. You’re safer at home, under my protection. Your testimony will be needed should this ever go to trial. And...”
She was shaking her head. He tried not to be mesmerized by those dark soulful eyes that saw everything, or so it seemed. He’d forgotten that about her. As he’d grown up and forged an adult life, there were things he didn’t
