the man who’d held her heart in his hands.
“Are you sure?” He scanned her face, his eyes glimmering darkly in the dim streetlight.
“Yes. We’d better keep moving. The marshals will be looking for us.” So would Martino’s men, but giving voice to that fear would only make it more terrifying, and Olivia kept it to herself.
Ford glanced back the way they’d come, and frowned. “You’re right. It doesn’t look like anyone followed us, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe.”
“We need to get out of town.”
“I was thinking the same thing. The problem is, both our cars are back at your place.”
“There’s a train station the next town over. I’m sure someone would give us a ride there.” She hadn’t had much of a chance to build friendships in Pine Bluff, but she was sure that her neighbor Jeb would give her a ride if she asked. If not, one of her coworkers at the diner or someone from church might be willing to help.
“I’ve got two problems with that. The first is that we’d be putting someone else in danger. The second is that the train station is going to be the first place anyone searching for you will look. I saw a used car lot just outside of town. If I can get to it, I can buy us a ride.”
“It’s three miles from here. That’s too far to walk with the marshals searching for us.”
“The marshals aren’t the only ones searching, and they’re not the most dangerous. That’s exactly why I’m going alone.”
“You can’t.”
“Of course I can. Anyone searching for us will be looking for two people. They won’t pay much attention to a lone guy wandering around town,” he sounded confident and sure of himself, but that was how Ford always sounded. If he ever had doubts, he didn’t let anyone know about them. If he had worries he didn’t share.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“It’s the only one we have. There’s a church up ahead. We’ll see if it’s open. If it is, you can stay there until I get back.”
“Ford—”
“I don’t like this any more than you do, Livy. I’ve spent months searching for you. I don’t want to let you out of my sight, but I can’t see any other way to get us out of Pine Bluff.” He led her up the church’s wide steps and pushed open the door, urging her inside.
“Maybe we should forget all about leaving town and go back to my house. The trial is only three weeks away. I’m sure the marshals can keep me safe until then,” she said as she stepped into the brightly lit building. The wide corridor lined with doors was silent and empty but for several wooden benches lined up against the walls.
“They didn’t tonight. And if there’s really a leak like Marshal James said, they won’t be able to. The best thing we can do is go underground and stay there until the date of the trial.”
“For all we know, Marshal James is wrong and there is no leak. It’s possible the Martinos followed you or that they found me the same way you did.”
“I’ve been trekking back and forth across Montana since a lady in Billings recognized your photograph. I’m talking miles of open road with nothing but blue sky and mountains as far as the eye could see. If someone had been following me I would have known it.”
“So it’s just a coincidence that you found me and then Martino’s men did?” Olivia sank onto one of the benches, suddenly too tired to stand, too tired to argue and almost too tired to care whether she and Ford made it out of town.
“I don’t know. I just know I wasn’t followed.” Ford sounded as tired as Olivia felt. That was so unlike him, so different from the constantly moving, constantly energized man she’d married that Olivia studied his face, looking for some sign of what he’d been through in the months since she’d gone into witness protection. Aside from the scar that bisected his right cheek, he looked the same. Handsome. Strong. Confident. She wanted to reach out, trace the line of the scar, let her fingers linger on warm flesh.
She blinked, surprised by the train of her thoughts. Uncomfortable with them. Aside from her lapse of judgment two days after Christmas, Olivia had been separated from Ford for over a year. She’d been planning to sign divorce papers when she returned to Chicago for Martino’s trial. In her mind, what they’d had was over.
She needed to keep it that way.
She rubbed the back of her neck, tried to refocus her thoughts. “Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere.”
“That’s why I’m leaving. Give me an hour. If I’m not back by then…” he hesitated, then continued. “Call the FBI. Ask for Jackson McGraw. He’s the agent in charge of the Martino trial. Tell him you don’t feel like the marshals can keep you safe.”
“You think he’ll be able to offer some other form of protection?”
“I don’t know, and I’m praying that you won’t have to find out. Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers just as he had in her kitchen, the heat of his touch sweeping through Olivia, sending her back to other less complicated times. Times when she’d really believed that Ford would always love her.
“Stay here, Liv. Promise me.”
“I promise.” The words escaped before she realized they were forming, and Olivia bit her lip to keep from taking them back. What good would it do? If Ford came back, good. If not…she’d leave on her own. Going back to the FBI and marshals wasn’t something she planned to do.
Ford walked outside, disappearing from view, and Olivia sat for several moments, her fingers pressing against her lips. He’d kissed her. Twice.
And he’d said he loved her.
It had been a long time since she’d heard those words.
Restless, she stood, pacing to windows that flanked either side of the door. Outside, darkness painted the street and houses in broad black strokes, hiding whatever danger might be hiding there. Olivia scanned the area, watching as a few people wandered past the church. Young. Laughing and jostling one another as they walked. Life went on the way it had before the fire had destroyed Olivia’s home, before she’d nearly died, but she had changed. She’d realized that the responsibility for her safety lay in her own hands rather than the hands of others. If she were going to survive, if her baby was going to survive, she’d have to keep that in mind.
She sighed, letting her hand rest on her stomach. She wanted to open the door, run out into the night and disappear into the darkness. Wanted to forget about Vincent Martino, forget about the trial, forget everything but creating a good life for her child. She wanted to, but couldn’t. Vincent Martino was a cold-blooded killer. Olivia had watched him shoot a rival crime boss. If Olivia didn’t testify, he might go free. Free to kill again. That was something Olivia couldn’t allow.
“Miss? Can I help you?” A woman asked, her voice coming behind Olivia.
Olivia jumped, her heart slamming against her ribs as she turned to face the woman. “No, I was just…”
What was she doing?
