red barn and into the driveway at the front of her house. The Victorian structure needed a lot of work, but she was still grand to look at. He got out of the patrol car and walked around the side of the house where he spotted the small sedan parked in the driveway. He glanced at the dim light in the kitchen.
He walked back out front as he punched Trent’s number into his phone. He knew it was late, but he wanted to double-check if he’d been expecting anyone here.
He got a groggy greeting. “Hello, Cullen. What’s going on?”
“I’m over at your grandfather Robertson’s place. There’s a car parked here.” He rambled off the make and model and plates. “Do you know them?”
“They could be related to the Donaldsons, who just moved out.”
“Could they get into the main house?”
He heard a sigh. “To be honest, Cullen, I’m not sure. I haven’t been there in years. All the rent money went to Mom.”
“Okay, then I’ll see if I can stir someone.”
“Hey, give me a few minutes, and I’ll be there to help you.”
“I don’t need a big brother anymore,” he teased, recalling their intense days as teenagers. “I’ll knock on the door, and if there’s anything suspect, I’ll call for backup.”
Cullen hung up and climbed the steps to the front door. He rang the bell, then a minute later with no answer, he began to knock hard on the door and called out.
He unfastened the strap on his gun. “Sheriff’s department. Please, open the door.”
* * *
SHELBY FROZE. Oh, God, no. Gil had found them. She stood and hurried into the other room. What should she do? She rushed to the window and peeked out through the heavy curtains. She found a tall, well-built stranger standing under the porch light. She glanced toward the black-and-white car with the logo of County Sheriff on the side.
The knock sounded again. “Who’s ever inside, you need to answer the door. You are trespassing on private property.”
She heard Ryan’s loud cry from upstairs. She ran to the stairs and called to her nephew. “Go back to your room, Ryan. It’s okay.”
When the boy disappeared, Shelby took a shaky breath and released it. She stood by the door. “What do you want, Sheriff?”
“Would you please step out on the porch? I need to speak to you.”
With trembling hands, she unbolted the door, but left the chain on, then opened it a crack to see the dark-haired man in uniform. Well, if you could call dark jeans, boots and a light blue shirt a uniform. Around his waist he wore a gun, and several other weapons.
“May I see your identification, Sheriff?”
He looked irritated, but pulled out an official ID. She read the name Cullen Brannigan. He was six feet one inch tall, his weight one hundred ninety, eyes, hazel, and hair, brown.
“Thank you.” She handed it back to him. “I’m not trespassing, Sheriff. I was hired to come here and cook for spring roundup. The job came with room and board.”
He frowned. “Who hired you?”
“The Donaldson family.”
He nodded. “May I see your identification?”
“Of course.” Shelby went to the table next to the door and got her wallet. She didn’t want to bring attention to herself. If Gil got news of her being here with a computer search... “All you have to do is contact Mr. Donaldson. He’ll tell you that we’re supposed to be here. But he talked with my sister, Georgia Hughes.” That had been what her new ID stated. She was supposed to have a chance to start over. She handed over her Kentucky driver’s license. “If there is a mistake, we’ll leave.”
“Where is your sister?”
Miss Townsend glanced away. “She died unexpectedly... We just recently buried her before we came here.”
Before she could say any more, a truck pulled up into the yard. Shelby stiffened and pulled her robe closer to her body as another man climbed out and rushed up to the porch.
“Hey, bro.” He turned that smile toward Shelby. “Hello, I’m Trent Landry.”
“I’m Shelby Townsend. I was just explaining to the sheriff, my sister and I were hired to cook for the roundup for Mr. Donaldson.”
Trent nodded. “I’m sorry, but the Donaldsons no longer live here. Since my mother’s passing, this property has changed hands. I’m surprised you haven’t been contacted by Hank.”
Shelby tried to stay calm given this new situation. Oh, God. Now, what was she going to do? “We were probably on the road by then.” Had Georgia known the change of plans and never got the chance to tell her? “I apologize for the mistake.” She opened the door and allowed both men inside. “As you can see, nothing was disturbed. We only arrived a few hours ago.”
Cullen watched as the attractive brunette fidgeted with the belt on her robe. Something told him she wasn’t telling him the entire story. He glanced around at the large room filled with sheet-covered furniture. The place was huge.
The woman started to speak when a child’s voice rang out from upstairs. “It’s okay, Ryan,” she said. “You can come downstairs.”
A little boy about five hurried down the steps and ran to her side. He looked scared, and Cullen hated that he’d caused the boy any more stress.
Trent spoke first. “Hello, there. I’m Trent. What’s your name?”
The boy looked up at his aunt. “It’s Ryan,” she said for him. “He’s five.”
“Good to meet you, Ryan,” Trent said. “Sorry if we scared you.”
“Don’t hurt Aunt Shellie,” he said slowly.
The woman stepped in. “No one is going to hurt anyone, Ryan. This is Sheriff Cullen.”
The boy’s eyes widened before he buried his head against his aunt’s waist.
“He’s very shy and a little frightened. I apologize for the mistake. If you give us about thirty minutes we can be packed up and out of here.”
Hell, he didn’t want to kick her out onto the street. Cullen spoke up. “Whoa, we aren’t kicking you out in the middle of the night.”
* * *
OUTSIDE THE HOUSE, Trent asked, “So you think it’s okay to let them stay?”
Cullen still wasn’t sure what came over him. He was usually the bad cop, the by-the-book guy. But the kid got to him with that look of fear on his face. “It’s nearly midnight. Do you really want her to drag the boy out at this hour? Besides, didn’t you do the same thing when Brooke came to town not too long ago? You offered her a place to stay, and look what happened.”
“Are
