Ranger Protector. Angi Morgan
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Foot stomping on brake when a car pulled into the driveway behind her. She barely avoided a collision but couldn’t avoid the half-dressed man aiming a Smith & Wesson directly at her.
“What in the world is going on here? Someone trying to steal your truck?”
“Get the hell out,” Jack ordered her.
She put the car in Park and killed the engine as the vehicle behind her did the same. Megan couldn’t catch a break, although she might not have gotten too far in a stolen truck of a Texas Ranger anyway. A young woman unfolded her tall frame from the bright red Miata now blocking Megan’s exit. Jack ignored the newcomer and came straight to her.
Reaching through the car’s window, he removed his keys before swinging open the door and tugging Megan from the driver’s seat. “I’d charge you with assaulting an officer of the law, but it pales in comparison to felony murder.”
He quickly ushered her inside the house and led her to the couch. Megan couldn’t decide if he was more upset that she’d taken him down or that she’d almost gotten away in his truck.
Footsteps on the front porch reminded her that someone else had witnessed her failed escape attempt. Was it another cop or a potential ally? Who was she fooling? If they knew Jack, they’d obviously be on his side.
The witness walked into the house without knocking. Probably not on Megan’s side.
“You didn’t mention why you wanted clothes, and now I’m not certain I want to know.” Her eyes shifted from him to Megan.
“Shut the door.” He waited until the woman complied, and then he swiftly snapped one handcuff against Megan’s wrist. She watched him scanning the room for something, probably some permanent fixture to affix the other bracelet to. He shook his head and snapped it to his wrist as the anger rolled off him in waves.
“Jack?” the woman said, asking a million questions with his name.
“Gillie, I need a babysitter for my...my guest.”
“No one has to watch me,” Megan interjected. “You could let me go. I can take care of myself.”
A horrified expression crossed Gillie’s face. “Are you serious? You’re holding a woman here against her will?”
“No, wait a second. I’m doing this for Wade.”
“Are you joking? Why would you kidnap a woman for your partner?”
Whoever Gillie was, he didn’t answer her. She approached the couch and dropped a plastic sack.
“My partner—” Jack emphasized the words “—got me out of a complicated situation. He saved lives. Including mine.”
“Maybe you should think long and hard about doing what Wade’s gut wants instead of him taking care of it.”
Megan wanted to interrupt and ask what was going on. They argued like two people who had known each other a long time. Then it dawned on her that Gillie was most likely Jack’s sister. The coloring and bone structure—along with her height—were all similar.
“Don’t be ridiculous. There are complications that I can’t go into.”
“Little Jack, I might just handcuff you to the pipes myself.”
Somehow the slender brunette standing at the end of the small room looked much more powerful than the Texas Ranger holding his sidearm.
Megan waved her hand, breaking the tension. “If you’re serious, I could help you.”
They both looked at her.
“Go get dressed, Little Jack. That is, if you have the key handy.” Gillie snickered.
Jack silently removed his hand from the cuff and snapped it onto the metal scroll design on the end table. Then he walked away without another word.
Gillie plopped down on the other end of the couch and turned sideways to face Megan. “Any chance there’s a short version of your story?”
Megan shrugged, halfway tempted to remain silent and let the woman continue to assume this was all Jack’s fault.
“Lucky for you, I’ve got nothing but time,” she continued.
Megan tugged against the handcuff, but the heavy wooden table didn’t budge an inch. “Any chance you could sweet-talk him into giving you the key?”
“Honey, if I had any influence over the MacKinnon men, I would have gone to work for anyone other than my father. Start talking.”
“So you are his sister. I thought for a second there you might be his girlfriend.”
“Oh, please. Jack and Gillie? That’s a joke. My real name is Gilleth Anne, after both of my grandmothers. My mom didn’t think that through all the way.” She laughed. Then giggled. “I’ll tell you my exciting tale later. Right now I want to know why you’re trying to escape in a bathrobe. One that I gave to Little Jack last Christmas and that he only wears to answer the door. Sometimes.”
If the circumstances had been different, Gillie would be a person Megan would want to know. Right now she’d explain that she needed to get home or even call Therese to find out why her friend was afraid of the Austin police.
Megan filled Gillie in on the events. There weren’t many, since she really didn’t know the details of why Therese had sent him to the airport. But during the retelling, it didn’t seem so unreasonable that she would have stayed the night with Jack.
By the time Jack returned, she was finished and finding her confidence again. He stopped at the edge of the hall and stuffed his hand into the pocket of a tight pair of jeans.
He was dressed in scuffed boots, a large belt buckle and a heavily starched yellow shirt with Liberty Hill Boosters embroidered on the pocket. All he needed was a Western hat to complete the perfect cowboy picture.
Gillie whistled through her teeth. “Whew. Aren’t you all prettied up, ready for the big homecoming meeting?”
“It was already laid out. I’m not going. Someone is certain to have seen—”
“Seen what?” Gillie asked.
“I thought you two would have a plan hatched for Megan’s escape already. Didn’t she tell you she’s wanted for murder?”
“I might have left a few details out for brevity’s sake.” She shrugged. Or it might have been an attempt to convince Gillie to become an ally.
“In the name of brevity.” Jack laughed.
“Then you, Little Jack, are a kidnapper. Maybe you should turn Megan over to the appropriate authorities? You don’t have any right to keep her here against her will.” Gillie pointed to the handcuffs.
“Someone tried to kill her.”
“That’s still no reason to use force, and you know it.”
Jack