Cowboy's Vow To Protect. Carla Cassidy

of the night by ending the evening with a little conversation.

      He looked at her in surprise. “Uh...okay.”

      “Please, sit and let me make it for you.” She hurried over to the coffee machine and placed a pod in it as he washed his hands in the sink. He then moved to the table and sat.

      “Did you get a lot of work done?” she asked.

      “I got about half of the deck laid. Be careful if you go outside. I wouldn’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”

      “I have no intentions of venturing outside of this cabin until my car is ready or you’re here,” she replied. She carried the coffee to him and then sat across the table from him.

      “Oh, that reminds me. I told Larry at the car dealership to call the number here in the cabin so he can speak with you directly about whatever repairs are needed.”

      “Thank you,” she replied. “Hopefully, I’ll hear from him soon.”

      He curled his hands around the coffee cup. His hands were large and work-worn and she wondered...darn, what was wrong with her? Why would she even wonder what those hands might feel like stroking up and down her back? That was the last thing she should be thinking about.

      “So do you have a particular destination in mind when you leave here?” he asked.

      “I’m thinking maybe someplace in Wyoming.”

      “Have you ever been there before?”

      “No, but I’ve read a lot of books set there.” Romance books. She’d read a lot of romance books set in Wyoming where the winters were cold and the cowboys were hot. Of course no cowboy would ever want her now. Nobody would want her.

      “I’ve heard it’s beautiful country,” he replied.

      An awkward silence ensued and his gaze seemed to go everywhere in the room but on her. “So once you finish the porch is the cabin all done?” she finally asked.

      His dark green eyes found hers once again. “For the most part. I still need to trim out my bedroom and take care of a few odds and ends, but nothing major. I don’t know if you noticed it or not but there’s a detached garage in the back and that still needs a bit of work.”

      “I didn’t notice. I have to confess, I spent most of the day sleeping.”

      “Nothing wrong with that, especially if you’ve picked up a bit of a flu bug.”

      Her face warmed. “I’m sure I’m fine,” she assured him. “I’m sorry about throwing up in your trees.”

      He smiled at her. It was the first real smile she’d seen since he’d found her hiding in the barn. The gesture crinkled the corners of his eyes and exuded warmth that instantly washed over her.

      “Maddy, I spend my time with a bunch of cowboys who sometimes get rowdy on a Saturday night. They drink too much and upchuck in all kinds of places. I’m sure my trees will be just fine.”

      “I’m just glad you aren’t mad.”

      He raised a blond eyebrow. “Why would I get mad at you about getting sick?”

      “I don’t know...so, what does make you mad?” she asked tentatively. It suddenly seemed vitally important that she know this about him, especially if they were going to spend a little time together.

      He frowned, obviously in thought. “The usual things that make most people mad: injustice and abuse, especially abuse of women and children. I also don’t much like people who abuse animals. But other than those things, I’m a pretty laid-back guy. There isn’t much that anyone does in my personal life to upset me.” He finished his coffee. “And on that note, I need to head back to the ranch.”

      Even though she still wasn’t sure she could trust him, she almost hated to see him go. So far his presence made her feel safe rather than threatened in any way.

      “Then I guess I’ll see you about the same time tomorrow night?” She walked with him to the front door. “By then I should have news about my car.”

      “Whatever. Maddy, if you need to stay a day or two longer, don’t worry about it. And if you need anything don’t hesitate to call me.”

      And then he was gone and she was alone in the night. She sat on the sofa and thought about turning on the television, but she instantly rejected the idea. She wanted to hear if any threat...if any danger came close and she wouldn’t be able to hear that if the television was playing.

      Even though Flint had said that only a few of the cowboys on the Holiday Ranch knew of this place, she couldn’t be absolutely sure of that.

      The people in Bitterroot loved to gossip and it was totally possible one of those men had mentioned this place while drinking at the Watering Hole, or having dinner at the café. And then that person mentioned it to somebody else who mentioned it to somebody else and so on...

      “Stop it,” she whispered aloud to herself. Her brain was overworking in an effort to freak her out, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. She had to stay calm.

      Still, she decided to turn off the living area lights and go into her bedroom. With the lights off in the front of the cabin, anyone driving up would think nobody was here. Even though she hoped she wouldn’t have to use it, she carried the butcher knife into her bedroom and placed it beneath the pillow.

      Once there she changed out of her dress and into a nightshirt. The lamp next to the bed emitted a soft glow and thankfully, when she’d left the trailer she’d thrown a few paperback books into her suitcase.

      The bed seemed to envelop her in softness and she snuggled in and opened one of the books. But there was no escaping reality tonight.

      Even though she held the book in her hand, her thoughts were far away from the words printed on the page. She’d told Flint she’d like to go to Wyoming and maybe she would. But she would mourn leaving Bitterroot, which had been her home for the past twenty-eight years.

      Her childhood had certainly been difficult, but over the past ten years she’d made a cozy home for herself in the trailer. It had been her happy sanctuary until...

      She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and drew in several deep, steadying breaths. She couldn’t go there. If she allowed her mind to take her back, she would be in the throes of a post-traumatic stress episode.

      “Just breathe,” she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes and drew in deep breaths. What she needed to do was pray the car repairs didn’t cost too much or take too long so she could leave here for anywhere else. She must have fallen asleep for the next time she opened her eyes, early-morning sunshine was drifting through the window. She’d made it through the night without any nightmares or disturbances.

      She showered and dressed for the day and then opened the door in the kitchen that led outside. There was a small porch and in the short distance was the garage.

      The clean, fresh-scented air tickled her nose as birds sang their early-morning songs. Despite her circumstances a wave of optimism swept through her.

      She hoped to hear from Larry Wright at the car dealership today. And she hoped the repairs were minimal and she could be on her way. Tomorrow was Sunday so if she didn’t hear about her car today then it would be Monday before she heard anything.

      She didn’t want to be here any longer than necessary. The longer she stayed the more possibility that somebody would find her here.

      Besides, if she stayed too long here in this cozy cabin she knew she would never want to leave. Right now she felt so safe here, but she had to go.

      This wasn’t her place. She didn’t know where her place was right now, but it wasn’t here. It couldn’t be anywhere near Bitterroot.

      While she ate breakfast she found herself wondering why Flint was leaving the Holiday Ranch. Did he intend to work on the ranch and live here? Or did he plan to quit