knew that wasn’t true. She was free. And yet her eyes darted wildly. The room was hazy. The wallpaper faded into concrete walls. She looked down at her hands. Though she wasn’t bound, she couldn’t pull her wrists apart. Invisible handcuffs held her.
“No,” she whispered. She was at home in her own soft, comfortable bed. She was warm, clean and safe. Alone.
No one can see me.
Concentrating, she struggled to control the rapid beating of her heart. She forced her wrists to separate. With one arm on each side of her body, she lay back on the pillows. Her body went stiff. Frozen, she waited for the panic to subside.
Her stomach churned. She bolted from the bed, raced to the bathroom and vomited. Her eyes avoided the mirror as she rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. Coward! She didn’t want to see the self-doubt in her eyes, didn’t want to confront the fear that caused her heart to throb inside her rib cage.
She could pretend that she was all right, but it was a lie. Until Nate was caught, she was shackled inside her own terror.
Looking back at the bed, she knew going back to sleep was out of the question. Though Dylan had promised to stay with her, she was kind of glad that he hadn’t. She didn’t want him to see her fall apart.
Pulling on her robe and slippers, she went downstairs where she heard Dylan talking to Carolyn and that big, tall FBI agent with the dark, piercing eyes. They were making plans to catch Nate, and she could help.
Dylan sat beside her at the dining-room table. “You don’t have to do this, Nicole.”
“I can handle it.” If she ever wanted to rest easy, she needed to know that Nate was behind bars. She looked toward the FBI agent. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Carolyn rested her hand on the man’s broad shoulder. “This is Agent J. D. Burke. Otherwise known as my fiancé.”
That was a shocker. Carolyn hadn’t been serious about anyone in years. “Congratulations.”
“They’re a good match,” Dylan said with a wry smile. “Burke’s the only man I’ve ever met who just might be tough enough to handle my sister.”
Ignoring her brother, Carolyn turned to Nicole. “Can I get you anything to eat or drink? Coffee?”
“Herbal tea,” she said. Something to soothe her stomach. “Chamomile with honey. The teabags are on the second shelf—”
“I know where to find the tea.”
Never before had Nicole seen her sister-in-law prepare any sort of food or drink. “Don’t tell me you’re learning how to cook.”
“I can zap water in the microwave.” She glared at Burke, who was doing his best not to smirk. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not about to turn domesticated.”
“The thought never crossed my mind.” Burke watched as she stalked toward the kitchen, then he took a seat at the head of the table, directly to Nicole’s right. In a calm but authoritative voice he said, “I’m not going to pressure you. My questions will help figure out Nate’s behavior patterns so we can predict what he’ll do next.”
“FBI profiling,” she said.
“How do you know about—”
“I watch TV.”
“Then you know what I want,” Burke said with a grin. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Tell us about the day you were kidnapped.”
Nicole exhaled a long sigh, remembering that day. They’d been having trouble at the ranch—incidents of sabotage in the south field had culminated in a fire that burned down the old stable. Dylan had hired Longbridge Security to keep an eye on things, but tensions were still high.
“Jesse Longbridge warned me not to go off by myself. If I wanted to take a ride, I was supposed to let him or one of the other bodyguards know.”
But she’d been angry. Dylan had been trying to weasel out of an appointment at the fertility clinic the following day because he claimed that he needed to be at the ranch until all this sabotage was straightened out. For eight months they’d been trying to get pregnant, and the timing of this appointment was crucial. How could he refuse? It seemed as if he just didn’t care about having a baby.
“I broke Jesse’s rule,” she said. “I needed some time alone. So I went to the barn, saddled up and rode. I headed toward the creek near the south pasture.”
She’d dismounted and gone to the water’s edge. Her teeming emotions had blinded her to the approaching danger. She hadn’t seen the two men lurking in the trees. “The man who grabbed me was Sam Logan—the leader of the Sons of Freedom. They’re that cult that rented the Circle M from Nate to set up their compound.”
“We know,” Burke said.
“I didn’t recognize the other guy, but I later learned that his name was Pete Richter. I struggled. One of them hit me. Everything went black.”
“Do you remember gunshots?” Burke asked.
“Was someone hurt?”
Dylan cleared his throat and took her hand. The grave expression in his eyes told her that bad news was coming. “Jesse went after you. He was shot, and was in a coma for a couple of days. But he’s better now.”
“A coma…” His injury was her fault. If she hadn’t gone running off by herself, none of this would have happened.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Carolyn said as she returned to the dining room with Nicole’s herbal tea. “Nobody blames you.”
“But I—”
“Jesse’s a professional bodyguard. When he got shot, he was doing his job,” Carolyn said. “Besides, he’s definitely recovered. He’s better than ever.”
“What do you mean?”
Carolyn placed the steaming mug on the table in front of her. “There might be wedding bells in the future for Jesse and our neighbor, Fiona Grant.”
Nicole’s burden of guilt lifted. She wasn’t surprised that Fiona, a young widow, had found love with the handsome bodyguard. “First you and Burke. Then Jesse and Fiona.”
Carolyn chuckled as she plopped into a chair on the opposite side of the table. “That’s right.”
“Jeez.” Nicole shook her head. “I get myself kidnapped for a week and come back to find everybody coupled up. Are you going to have a double wedding?”
“Not a chance,” Dylan said. “Carolyn’s not about to share that spotlight.”
Burke drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Let’s get back to your story, Nicole. What’s the next thing you remember?”
She sipped her chamomile tea. She would have preferred gossiping about these newly formed couples, but she knew it was important to talk about what happened. “Maybe I should just skip ahead to when
