upstairs.
No...she was probably just paranoid. It was just the furnace...
But...what if the mysterious voice had been calling from inside the house?
A siren wailed, and she pulled back the curtain again and watched as the sheriff’s car spun into the driveway. She ran to the door, threw the lock open and rushed outside to the porch.
Seconds later, Sheriff McCullen stepped from the vehicle, his tall frame emerging in the shadows.
“Rose?”
“I’m here.” Her voice faded as she ran down the steps toward him. He rushed toward her and she fell into his arms, trembling as a sob escaped her.
* * *
MADDOX PULLED ROSE into his arms, cradling her close as she shuddered against him.
He murmured soothing words to her and stroked her hair, hating himself for noticing that it was just as soft as he’d imagined when he’d seen her around town.
What kind of man lusted after a woman when she was quaking in his arms from nearly being killed?
“You’re all right, now,” he said, lowering his voice to a gentle pitch. Both his brothers had told him that he sounded like a bear when he talked. He couldn’t help that he’d been given a deep baritone voice.
It came in handy when he wanted to intimidate a suspect. Not so much when a frightened woman was looking for someone gentle to comfort her.
She clung to him, rasping for breath. “You’re safe now, Rose. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She heaved another breath and sniffled, her damp tears soaking his shirt. “I’m sorry. I...didn’t know what to do. Who to call.”
“I’m the sheriff,” he murmured. “I’m here to protect you and everyone in this town.”
She nodded against his chest, her sobs finally subsiding. Then she lifted her chin and looked up at him. The pain in her eyes tore at him.
She blinked, tears glistening on her eyelashes in the moonlight that seeped through the clouds.
“Let’s go inside and you can tell me everything.”
Her lower lip quivered as she released him and folded her arms around her waist. She stumbled on a fallen tree limb on the ground, and he steadied her as they walked up the steps to the porch. When they made it to the doorway, she froze, her eyes widening again in fear.
“I thought I heard a noise upstairs earlier.”
He immediately drew his gun and coaxed her aside. “Wait here. Let me check the house.”
She nodded and gripped the doorjamb as he scanned the living room to the left. It was clear, so he veered to the right and scanned the kitchen, which was connected to the living room by a breakfast bar. The kitchen was empty, so he took the staircase, his senses honed for sounds of an intruder.
The furnace kicked on, rattling in the silence, and he paused at the top of the staircase to glance into the room to the right.
An iron bed covered in a pale blue-and-white quilt dominated the room, and an antique dresser held perfume bottles and candles by the bathroom door. He went inside, instincts alert, but saw nothing amiss. A quick check in the closet told him this was Rose’s room. Feminine dresses, blouses and shoes filled the closet.
Exhaling slowly, he turned and crossed to the room on the opposite side of the hall. This must be a guest room. The bedding was simple, with a white coverlet on a four-poster Shaker-style bed, and there was a Shaker-style dresser by the wall. The closet held a few containers stacked with extra clothing and items.
But the rooms were clear.
Relieved, he headed back down the stairs. Rose was pacing by the fireplace, her hands worrying the belt of her robe, her face pale.
“No one is upstairs.”
“Let me put some clothes on,” she said as if she suddenly realized how naked she was.
He nodded. He needed her clothed so he could forget about how she’d felt in his arms and focus on the reason someone had tried to kill her.
* * *
ROSE THREW ON a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, fighting a sob. Thad had not only made a fool out of her but he also wanted her dead.
Why?
She glanced in the mirror, shocked at the woman she saw looking back. Her eyes were puffy and red with dark circles beneath them, her face bruised, her hair stringy and tangled. She didn’t even look like herself.
Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she dragged a brush through the tangles, then slowly descended the steps, relieved that the sheriff had made it to her house so quickly. She didn’t know Maddox McCullen very well, but everyone in town said he was decent and hardworking—a family man.
A man to trust.
God knows she’d trusted the wrong man so far.
“I’ll make coffee,” she said, desperate for something to do with her hands as she met him at the foot of the staircase.
He gave a grim nod and followed her to the kitchen. An awkwardness, thick and unsettling, cloaked the room as she measured the grounds and filled the coffeepot with water, and they waited on it to brew.
She removed two mugs from the cabinet. “Sugar or cream?”
“Black,” he said.
Just as she’d expect from a man like him. Everything about Maddox screamed alpha male. Strong, take-charge...masculine.
When it was ready, she filled his mug. He blew on his coffee for a moment, and she gestured toward the pine table and sank into a straight chair. He joined her, still silent, as if he knew she needed time to pull herself together.
Finally she shoved her hair from her eyes, took a deep breath and began. “Thad suggested we elope yesterday,” Rose said. “Since neither of us have family that we’re close to, I agreed.”
“You were anxious to get married?”
She nodded, although heat flooded her cheeks. Why did men make it sound as if women were desperate to get married? “I thought he loved me, that we were going to build a life together.”
His jaw tightened. “Go on.”
“We decided to go to Cheyenne for the ceremony, but on the way Thad said he knew this private little place off the path, that we could spend the night and have a romantic evening before the wedding.”
“So you went to this cabin?”
“Yes.” Rose sipped her coffee, tidbits of the last twenty-four hours taunting her. Little things that at the time had seemed insignificant, or even thoughtful, now took on a sinister meaning.
“At first, I thought it was eerie when he
