while I was doing cleanup after Hurricane Dolly and started calling her that before I realized I was keeping her.” In a lot of ways, it had been fitting to name her after a natural disaster. Only a puppy back in 2008, she’d done some significant damage to his belongings in the first few months he’d owned her.
“Change her name,” Belle instructed as she patted Dolly on the head. “That’s what me and Mommy did.”
He frowned, puzzled. “You changed your pet’s name?”
At the same time Belle informed him in tragic tones that she did not have a pet, her mother stammered, “N-nicknames. She means nicknames! Belle is short for Isabelle and I go by Alex instead of Alexandra. Alex Hunt.”
“I’m Zane,” he repeated. “Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, but it took her a moment before she shook it, watching him warily the entire time. She was a stark change from bubbly Kelsey.
Alex raised her gaze, starting to say something, but then she froze like a possum in oncoming headlights.
“Ms. Hunt? Everything okay?”
She eyed the encircled silver star pinned to his denim button-down shirt. He’d been working this morning and hadn’t bothered to remove the badge. “Interesting symbol,” she said slowly.
“Represents the Texas Rangers.”
“Like the baseball team?”
“No, ma’am. Like the law enforcement agency.” Maybe that would make her feel safer about her temporary home. He jerked his thumb toward his house. “You have a bona fide lawman living right next door.”
Beneath the freckles, her face went whiter than his hat. “Really? That’s...” She gave herself a quick shake. “Come on, Belle. Inside now. Before, um, before that mud stains.”
“Okay.” Belle hung her head but rallied long enough to add, “Bye, Mister Zane. I hope I get to pet Dolly again soon.”
From Alex’s behavior, Zane had a suspicion they wouldn’t be getting together for neighborly potluck dinners anytime in the near future. Instead of commenting on the kid’s likelihood of seeing Dolly again, he waved. “Bye, Belle. Stay fabulous.”
She beamed. “I will!”
Then mother and daughter disappeared into the house, the front door banging shut behind them.
“Is there something about me,” he asked Dolly, “that makes females want to slam doors?”
The only response he got from the dog was an impatient tug on her leash. “Right. I promised you a walk.” They started again down the sidewalk, but he found himself periodically glancing over his shoulder and pondering his new neighbors. Cute kid, but she seemed like a handful. And Alex Hunt, once she’d calmed from her mama-bear fury, was perhaps the most skittish woman he’d ever met. If she were a horse, she’d have to wear blinders to keep from jumping at her own shadow. Zane wondered if there was a Mr. Hunt in the picture.
Not that it mattered. The Hunts would only be here for a matter of months, and he had more pressing priorities than getting to know them. He didn’t have the time or energy to win over a nervous neighbor. He still had to figure out how to win over his daughter.
* * *
A RANGER. ALEX LEANED against the closed door for support, her palm pressed to her racing heart.
Plenty of women would experience an increase in their pulses at the sight of Zane’s green eyes and coal-black hair, but she was more concerned with his occupation than his chiseled cheekbones or broad shoulders. An honest-to-God, badge-wearing, gun-toting, sworn-to-uphold-the-law Texas freaking Ranger! Bryce had neglected to mention that.
Josie, without a shy bone in her body—or any concern for the expensive area rug that didn’t belong to them—plopped right down in the entryway and began stripping off her muddy leggings. Not Josie, Alex reminded herself. Belle. If she was going to keep from blowing their covers, the new names had to be all the time, even in her own thoughts. Otherwise, someone was going to address her as Alex in public and she was going to forget they meant her.
“Belle” happened to be the name of her daughter’s favorite Disney princess. She’d seen the movie for the first time last month and had watched the DVD approximately six hundred times since then. Making the switch to the new name had been easy enough, especially once Alex explained that Belle meant beautiful. Her little girl had liked that, even if she hadn’t understood why she had to commit to a single new name and couldn’t keep changing it every week.
Alex’s alias had been chosen for her. When Bryce had handed her the ID, she’d been so fixated on how odd she looked in the picture—her hair dyed espresso with auburn highlights and cropped in a sleek bob that hugged her jawline—that it had taken a moment for the name to even register. She’d told Bryce to surprise her, paranoid that anything she picked would subconsciously hold meaning for her and somehow provide a lead for an astute private investigator.
“Alexandra Hunt?” she’d read, trying to imagine herself as an Alexandra. It seemed too exotic and sophisticated for a single mom whose life consisted of more macaroni than martinis. Then again, being a fugitive was pretty exotic.
Bryce’s face had reddened. “She was a character from an old video game, one of the first that got me hooked on gaming. I had kind of a cyber crush on her.”
“You named me for a character?” she’d shrieked. “Bryce, anonymity is our goal here! Why not just send me out into the world calling me Lara Croft?”
He’d been unfazed by her anxiety. “Okay, first, there could be lots of civilians who coincidentally have that name. Secondly, no one’s going to make the connection. This wasn’t a bestselling game. The ideas were solid, but the packaging and distribution...” Then he’d gone on a tangent about software platforms and market shares.
“Mommy?” Belle stood naked, hands on her hips. Alex had been too lost in thought to realize her daughter hadn’t stopped with the muddy pants. “Since I got dirty outside, don’t you think I should take a bath? Do we have any more of those crayons?”
The sudden attention to hygiene was an obvious ploy to pull out her favorite tub toys and splash around, but Alex was all in favor of that plan. Though she knew she couldn’t keep her daughter housebound for the next five and a half months, she didn’t like the idea of Belle hanging out in the yard, within easy conversational distance of the lawman next door.
“A bath sounds like a great idea,” Alex said. Maybe she’d treat herself to a similar luxury tonight—a long hot bubble bath after Belle was asleep and the doors were securely locked. She still couldn’t believe her daughter had taken advantage of the few minutes Alex had been in the bathroom to bolt out the front door, but dogs were a powerful enticement to the little girl. Belle’s fifth birthday was next month; the only present she’d asked for was a puppy.
That’s all I need. Then I’d be a fugitive on the lam with my fugitive princess daughter and our fugitive dog. A bubble of hysteria rose in her throat.
“Mommy? Why are you laughing?”
“No reason, punkin. Come on, let’s get you clean again.”
She followed her daughter upstairs to the bathroom, where Belle’s hot pink towel
