Christian had gone to college and received his master’s in finance was a testament to hard work and determination, because there’d been no support from his dad. Now, to have this cloud of suspicion over his reputation was another kick in the teeth Christian didn’t deserve.
Every time Tucker thought of the grief Leanna Warner had brought down on his family it angered him further, but he’d never been one to act rashly. By the time he turned that woman in, he’d make damn sure his brother would be exonerated completely.
Irene entered the room with her head high, and a smile on her face. It was all for show, but sometimes he thought the facade was the only thing keeping her going. That and hope.
THE MORNING WENT BY IN FITS and starts, and Shea was late. Her phone was going straight to voice mail, which meant she probably hadn’t remembered to turn it on again. Annie had gone back to the computer several times, just to make sure she wasn’t freaking out over nothing, but she wasn’t. Her picture, along with her first name being associated with Safe Haven, was plenty to worry about. Shea would know how many hits the site had logged, and that page in particular. A high number would be more reason to run as quickly as possible. A low number meant it was far less risky for Annie to stay.
God, she wanted to stay.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d been so intent on becoming a mover and shaker in Manhattan that she’d gotten herself into the worst trouble she could imagine. Now, she was desperate to live in a cabin that made her first New York apartment look roomy, and had fallen in love with a life of pitching hay and nursing everything from piglets to Brahma bulls. But she’d better stop romanticizing the sanctuary and her life, because that would make running even harder.
“Annie? Can I ride Candy Cane after class?”
Shaken out of her slide toward panic, she smiled at one of her favorite students—a small girl for a senior—who was deeply infatuated with horses. “You have a ride home?”
Stephanie nodded. “My mom said I could stay for an hour if it’s okay with you.”
“You bet. Candy needs a little exercise.”
The girl ran back to the work of mucking out one of the birthing stalls as Annie heard a car crunching over the gravel driveway. Her heart beat furiously as Shea parked her truck.
“Sorry I’m late. I ran into Doc Yardley and we got to talking. But I remembered to bring the—”
Annie grabbed the bag of medicine from Shea’s outstretched hand. “I need to speak to you,” she said. “Inside. I’ll be right there.”
Shea’s expression had gone from pleasant to worried, but instead of shooting back questions, she simply closed the truck door behind her and headed for the cabin.
Annie trotted to Melanie, who was helping one of the kids distribute feed to the goats. “Can you watch things for me? Something’s come up.”
Melanie, who had once considered becoming a vet, agreed at once.
It struck Annie hard that she knew so much about this quiet woman who’d made such an impact at Safe Haven and with her students. In fact, Annie knew a great deal about many of the people in this quaint Montana town. She’d meant to avoid all this. To keep to herself. Getting involved hadn’t been part of the plan, and this was why.
She forced a smile for Melanie, then turned, wanting to run to the cabin. But it wasn’t that far, and she could use the extra minute to calm herself. Since she’d seen the picture, she’d worried about a million things that could go wrong, but she hadn’t bothered to think through what she was going to tell Shea. As little as possible, yes, but where was the line?
Shea looked up from the kitchen area when Annie walked inside. She was making a fresh pot of coffee. Annie wished she had something stronger.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to ask you a favor.”
“Okay.”
Annie studied the woman she’d gotten too close to. “The picture you posted on the Sundance website, the one with me in it? I need you to take it down. Please.”
Shea didn’t react, not even a lift of her eyebrows. “All right,” she said calmly as she sat in front of Annie’s computer. Shea typed very quickly. Logging into the Sundance website, it took only a few clicks to find the photo and delete it.
Annie sighed with relief. “Did you put it up this morning?”
“No. Last night,” Shea said, returning to the desktop picture of the corral at sunset. “Late. Just before midnight.”
Twelve hours. Annie’s face had been freely available for twelve hours, but then the odds of someone from her past checking out the Sundance dude ranch website were miniscule. She didn’t think facial recognition had come far enough along to have identified her from her somewhat fuzzy profile. Still, the smart thing to do would be to get out. Now. Just in case. “Do you know how many hits that page had?”
Shea typed a bit more. “Eighteen.”
Eighteen wasn’t bad. Eighteen could be just folks from town and some of the guests.
“I won’t do that again,” Shea said. “I didn’t realize you disliked having your picture taken. I apologize.”
All Annie had to do was nod, and that would be that. Shea wouldn’t pry or tell anyone, with the possible exception of Jesse. They’d chalk it up to Annie’s reclusive ways.
But this was Shea, who had given her time, her skills, her money and her friendship without any expectations. She never overstepped, respecting Annie’s privacy in every way. Which would make leaving her in the dark the easiest thing ever.
The ache in Annie’s chest was no reason to talk, to say aloud the secrets she’d been holding close for so long. In her old life, she’d been anything but an introvert. And she’d never met a camera she hadn’t liked. “I used to be a professional fundraiser,” she said, and those few words, that small admission, revved up her heart rate again. Made her flush with heat and fear and relief.
Shea went to the coffeepot and took out two mugs from the cupboard above.
Annie closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. By the time Shea put both cups of coffee down, Annie felt ready to begin. “I was good at it. I liked the work, even after the economy tanked. I made raising money for good causes my personal crusade. Not just because I was paid to do it, but because I knew that even in the worst of times, when people donated it made them feel better.”
“Your effectiveness hasn’t diminished at all,” Shea said. “I can’t believe how fearless you are in approaching everyone you see and how favorably most of them respond.”
“People want to help. Well, most people.” Annie briefly closed her eyes. “There are also those who understand the motives behind charitable giving, and use that information to steal and destroy people’s faith and good intentions.”
“What are you saying?” Shea looked at her plainly, expecting the truth. She wasn’t naive, although some people mistook her manner for innocence.
“I worked with a partner who turned out to be one of the bad guys. Unfortunately,
