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“You’d rather go to a safe house?”
Her mind rebelled at the notion of taking her son to some strange place, surrounded by people they didn’t know. But wasn’t that what she’d done anyway? Dalton Hale was little more than a stranger to them. And his house was like no place she or Logan had ever lived before.
But she felt safe there, she realized. She had no particular reason to feel that way, but she did, regardless.
“No,” she said, not intending to say so aloud but not really regretting it when she heard the word slip over her tongue.
She felt his gaze on her again, a caress of scrutiny that sent a little shiver of awareness darting down her spine. He released a soft breath, as if he’d been holding it.
“I don’t regret asking you to stay with me.”
“I don’t regret staying.” She slanted a quick look toward him. “We’ll have to take pains to keep it that way, won’t we?”
The Legend of Smuggler’s Cave
Paula Graves
Alabama native PAULA GRAVES wrote her first book, a mystery starring herself and her neighborhood friends, at the age of six. A voracious reader, Paula loves books that pair tantalizing mystery with compelling romance. When she’s not reading or writing, she works as a creative director for a Birmingham advertising agency and spends time with her family and friends. She is a member of Southern Magic Romance Writers, Heart of Dixie Romance Writers and Romance Writers of America.
Paula invites readers to visit her website, www.paulagraves.com.
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For my niece Melissa, who has added unexpected joy to my life in some of the most surprising ways.
I love you, Missy.
Now go do your homework.
Contents
Chapter One
The front door was unlocked. Jenny never left it unlocked.
Hair rising on her neck and arms, Briar Blackwood took a careful step backward on the porch and drew her Glock 27. Not her weapon of choice; her Mossberg 835 shotgun was locked in the cabinet inside the cabin. But the Glock would do.
She stayed still for a breathless moment, listening for movement within the cabin. Was she overreacting? Maybe her aunt had fallen asleep on the sofa without locking up.
No. The break-in a month earlier had rattled Aunt Jenny’s nerves. She hadn’t been comfortable staying at Briar’s place with Logan alone at night since. She always locked all the doors and windows the second Briar left and wouldn’t even answer the door unless she knew the voice on the other side.
So why was the door unlocked now?
Everyone who mattered to Briar was behind that unlocked door. And she could stand here holding her breath, or she could go in there to see what was what.
But not through the front door.
Briar edged to the corner of the porch, making herself a harder target if someone inside started shooting. Tightening her grip on the Glock, she pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket and dialed the cabin landline. She heard the phone ringing through the cabin walls.
No answer.
Now she knew for sure something was wrong. Aunt Jenny was a light sleeper. She never slept
