instantly swamped her. When Austin turned off the highway onto a narrow paved road, the white truck mimicked his move. She clutched her hands together, her back ramrod straight to the point it ached.
“Relax. We’re almost there.”
Not five minutes later Austin turned off the road onto a gravel one, driving his Jeep under an arch proclaiming to the world they were on Triple T land. And the pickup trailed them.
Every couple of minutes Hannah threw a glance over her shoulder, trying to draw a decent breath. The truck was still behind them. She compelled air into her oxygen-deprived lungs.
“Do you realize someone is following us?” she finally asked as the SUV headed up a rise in the road.
“Yeah, that’s my foreman. He’d gone to town for some supplies.”
“Oh.” Hannah sagged against the seat, her stress deflating like a balloon being pricked with a pin. She caught his evaluating gaze and cocked a grin. “I just thought it was unusual for someone else to turn off the highway then the road back there.” As usual, she overreacted and needed to work on that. She was safe and nothing remotely dangerous had happened to her since she’d left the Witness Protection Program two years before. Not even the U.S. Marshal’s office in Montana knew where she was, so how was Devon Madison going to find her?
“I employ nine people year-round. I’ve been hiring lately since this is the beginning of our busiest time of year. Some of my employees live on the ranch, some don’t.”
So new people would be arriving at the Triple T. She filed that bit of information away in case she got the job. She would need to keep track of them but not overreact when she saw someone new about the ranch. Searching the landscape, littered with horses on one side of the road and cattle on the other, she realized the Triple T was a huge operation.
The Jeep crested another rise and before Hannah stretched acres of land with a large two-story log home nestled among tall pines and firs. A deck skirted the length on two sides, and banks of floor-to-ceiling windows afforded a gorgeous view of the mountains and pastures cocooning the house. A curl of smoke from the chimney snaked upward toward the clouds.
As Hannah took in her surroundings, tranquility settled over her. A place she could find peace. If only that were possible. Maybe here she could finally stop being paranoid and enjoy the beauty, at least for a short time.
Austin pulled up to the front of his home under a wooden overhang that protected visitors from the elements. Hannah glanced back at the now-paved road and noticed the pickup continue on toward a barn set off about three hundred yards from the house. A corral with several horses in it flanked the structure’s left side while what must be a bunkhouse was on the right with a pen containing a huge, black bull.
As Hannah exited the SUV, a gust of wind blew through the carport, catching her long hair. Strands whipped across her face. She hooked them behind her ears and hurried toward the double wooden and beveled glass doors. One opened, and a small woman in her late seventies supported by a cane stood, her white hair cut short in a pixie. Her bright, dark brown gaze lit when it connected with Hannah’s.
“Goodness. It’s cold out here. I don’t think winter has left us yet.” The woman stepped to the side to allow Hannah to enter the warm house, then waved her hand toward the room to the right. “I have a fire going in here.” She plodded toward what looked like a living room through the opening off the large foyer.
Straight ahead a staircase led up to the second floor with a balcony and wooden railing overlooking the ground level. To the left Hannah peeked inside the dining room and saw a dark walnut table for twelve and two large crystal chandeliers hanging over it. The formality contrasted with the living area that Hannah finally turned toward and followed Austin into.
“This is my grandmother, Caroline Taylor. Granny, this is Hannah Williams.” He indicated Hannah take a seat next to her on the brown leather sofa. Slipping into a chair across from both women, he opened the manila envelope and perused the papers Hannah had included. His gaze collided with hers, held it for a few seconds before he said, “We had a nice chat in the car.” He swung his attention to Caroline Taylor. “Do you have any questions for Hannah?”
“Only one. Will you tell me about the children you’ve worked with? Saul mentioned you loved children.”
“Yes, there was a little boy who lived next to Saul’s and he loved visiting him. I started bringing extra goodies I made for the child and, of course, Saul, who has a sweet tooth.” Hannah went on and described a few children she’d cared for. By the time she’d finished, she’d relaxed back, leaning against one arm of the sofa.
“So you’ve worked with someone as young as Misty?”
“My second client was six. I was with her two months. I hated leaving but was so glad she was better.”
“I expect Misty to have a full recovery.” Austin slid her papers back into the envelope. “Although her casts will come off soon, her ankle was shattered by the accident and she broke another bone in her leg. It’ll be a while before she’s running around and playing like she’s used to. Right now she has a motorized wheelchair, and you better look out when she wants to go somewhere.”
“May I meet her?” Hannah looked from him to his grandmother.
“She was resting, but she should be up by now. We moved her bedroom downstairs next to mine since she’s in a wheelchair. There’s another one on the other side of Misty where you could sleep, and there are two empty ones upstairs where Austin sleeps.”
“I’ll take Hannah to Misty’s room.” Austin rose in one fluid motion.
Hannah followed him from the room, trying not to stare too much at his broad back. Even hidden beneath a white button-down, long sleeve shirt, she could see his muscular biceps. She got the feeling he was very involved in the running of his ranch. His large hands were work roughened, and as he’d driven down his gravel road, his gaze swept the terrain as though he were checking everything out, assessing what was going on. She’d learned to do the same thing but for different reasons. That skill had kept her alive.
He tapped lightly on a door then eased it open, peering inside.
“Is she here, Daddy?”
“See for yourself, munchkin.” He entered, stepping to the side so his daughter could glimpse her.
Hannah grinned and came into the room. “I’m Hannah, Misty. I hear you’ve been a brave little girl.” Crossing to the bed, she took the chair next to it.
Misty sat up, leaning back against the pillows, a pink satiny comforter pulled up over her hips. “Has Daddy showed you the horses?”
“I’ve seen some in the fields, but I haven’t seen any up close. Do you ride?”
The five-year-old nodded, strands of her long, black hair falling forward over her shoulders. “I have a horse of my very own.” Her mouth turned down in a pout. “I can’t ride now.”
Hannah slid a glance toward Austin, not sure what to say to that comment.
“You will when you get better.” He clasped the bedpost that supported the canopy. “Candy is waiting for you. I’m taking special care of her until you can.”
Misty’s warm milk-chocolate eyes lit at the mention of Candy.
