was tense going for a few moments as the horse gave in to his panic, the woman slipped forward on the horse’s neck and Garrett fought to keep one hand on her and the other on the reins. It was dark down among the trees and the footing was uneven. He couldn’t see where they were going and was left to trust the horse’s ability to avoid trees and ditches.
They reached the bottom of the hill in record time. As the land flattened out, the horse began to slow down. Eventually, Garrett was able to pull Annie closer to his chest and wrap an arm around her waist. The awful feeling she was about to slip from his grasp to be trampled underfoot lessened. She held on to the saddle horn, though he saw during flashes of moonlight that she’d also grabbed a healthy handful of Scio’s mane and twisted it through her fingers.
He regained control of the horse before the highway. As the sound of thundering hoofbeats retreated, another noise filled the night air: sirens, in the distance, on their way. He looked through the trees, straining for a glimpse of the top of the mountain. A few feet farther on, they’d cleared all the trees and he was able to reign Scio in. They both turned in the saddle to look back.
The burning house and barn crowned the hill as Ben Miller’s cabin and barn went up in smoke. An explosion followed by high flames announced the fire had spread to the car and the truck. The only thing to be thankful for was that rescue equipment was on the way and the fire wouldn’t engulf the whole hill.
He heard Annie groan. “Are you okay?”
She turned even farther until they were nose to nose. All he could see was the twinkle of ambient light reflected in her eyes. She smelled strongly of smoke.
“Am I okay?” she repeated. “I am so not okay it’s not funny.” And with that she turned back around and started coughing.
Once she’d stopped, he said, “What happened back there?”
“A couple of guys came to see you. They were annoyed you weren’t home so they burned down your house.”
“Shelby Parker’s men?”
“I think so. They knew about me.”
“The police—”
“Trust me, they didn’t call the police.”
He got off the horse, caught Annie as she slid to the ground, got back in the saddle and, lowering a hand, grabbed her arm and helped her swing up behind him. She tucked her hips as close to his as possible and wrapped her arms around him. As they continued on, her head rested against his back though her grip on his torso never loosened.
Scio’s hot breath created a cloud of vapor in the moonlight as his hoofs cracked through the icy snow. Garrett admitted to himself it felt good to have Annie plastered against his back. Too good. To ward off increasingly erotic thoughts, he concentrated on what he should do next.
The first thing was easy—get as far away from the hill as possible. But the horse had had a traumatic time of it and was now carrying two adults. Garrett didn’t dare ask Scio to do more than amble along.
Keeping off the road, they rode for another mile. As they were riding away from town, the sounds of sirens grew fainter. Garrett could think of only one place to go and that was Joanna’s. He could leave Scio with her and from there, Annie Ryder could call her husband for a ride back to Reno.
And he could disappear.
Never to see Megan again? He couldn’t bear to think about his little girl so he put her out of his mind.
Other than a few strings of twinkling Christmas lights around the windows, Joanna’s house was dark. The barn was dimly lit, however. He paused by the big bell she kept on a post outside her house and rang it. When no answering lights went on in the house, he gathered she was gone for the evening and allowed Scio to head for the barn.
Joanna’s horses greeted them with whinnies and curious tosses of their heads as they peered out of their stalls. Garrett rode to the center unsaddling area. He helped Annie dismount before getting off the horse himself. Annie stood right next to him for a moment, knees shaking, though whether it was from riding, fear or injury, he didn’t know.
“Are you hurt?” he asked her, thinking he needed to turn on brighter lights and make sure she wasn’t bleeding anywhere.
She looked up at him, eyes blazing, bandages still stuck to her sooty face in a trio of places. He expected a slap or a tirade or something equally hostile. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes, put both arms around his neck and pulled his head down closer to hers.
“Thank you for coming back for me. You saved my life,” she said, and with that, planted her lips on his. The wild kiss that followed chased away the fire and the night.
She was soft, she was feminine, she was small and she was fierce. When her tongue touched his, his hands slipped down to cup her rear. He almost lifted her off her feet.
Maybe it was what they’d been through together that day, maybe it was the odd circumstances of their getaway, maybe it was the fear of loss and the joy of not being dead. Whatever it was, he was ready to make good on that kiss and tote her off into the hay. Except…
He clasped both her wrists and pulled away. “Wait a second,” he said. “You’re married.”
“That didn’t seem to faze you earlier tonight,” she said with a few warm kisses against his throat.
“Earlier tonight I was never going to see you again.”
“I’m not married,” she said.
“But the car is registered to Jack Ryder.”
“My father. Recently deceased.”
“I’m sorry.”
She said, “You shouldn’t be. If he hadn’t died, you’d be riding back to Reno with two thugs, names unknown.”
He had no idea what her remark meant, but the wistful smile following it piqued his interest. He’d known she was pretty from the moment the bad wig slipped off her head, but standing here in the half light, her coppery hair shimmering, cheeks flushed, peachy lips curved just the tiniest bit, she looked breathtaking. Despite the smoke. Despite the bandages.
Once again he considered his options.
“Who’s Joanna?” she said.
“I need to hear about the thugs,” he answered, returning to the business at hand. There was no time for impulsive lovemaking with a stranger hired to get him. What was he thinking?
“Why did you come back for me?”
That question was a hard one to answer and best delayed. He said, “Joanna owns this place. She boards Scio for Ben Miller during the winter. Speaking of Scio, he’s had a hard night.”
“So have I,” she said, stepping back.
He released his grip on her delicate wrists.
“Why did you come back?” she asked again, head tilted, hair falling softly around her heart-shaped face, eyes inquisitive.
He thought for a moment, then walked away.
