No One Needs to Know. Debbi Rawlins

Levi and Annie laughed. “The day you pitch out an animal is the day we close up shop,” Annie said. “You’re worse than all of us.”

      Kathy’s kids had left the nest. She and Levi, a former teacher, had been married for thirty-two years. She’d grown up in cattle country, and her wiry body was fit and strong. At sixty, she could still lift a fifty-pound bag of feed without breaking a sweat.

      Her husband was just as sturdy. He didn’t let his arthritis stop him. “What the dickens were you thinking, jumping into that mess?” he asked, frowning up at Tucker.

      The slow curve of his mouth and amusement in his eyes said he wasn’t normally spoken to in that manner. “I saw an opening. I took it.”

      “Could have got yourself killed.” Levi shifted his stink eye to Annie. “And you sure as hell know better. Just who do you think would take over for you if you got hurt bad? You need to think of that before you rush in next time. We can’t save everyone,” he said, his gaze softening as he turned back to Pinocchio. “Much as we’d like to.”

      Annie wanted to change the subject quickly. The last thing she needed was for Tucker to think she was irresponsible. She couldn’t very well yell at Levi for speaking the truth, but did he have to be so blunt with Brennan standing right there? Grasping for the quickest exit she could think of, she winced, touched her side and breathed a soft, “Ow.”

      TUCKER’S ATTENTION FLEW TO Annie. Her face didn’t show the pain she had to be feeling. But she could be hiding something serious beneath those well-worn clothes. “We should get you fixed up,” he said.

      She nodded, and all he could think of was that seeing her pictures and even the videos had not prepared him for this striking woman. He’d known she was tall, but in heels she would just about reach his height of six-one. Even with the grime smeared across her cheeks, he could see she had smooth, creamy skin. Her lack of concern for her appearance finally struck him. She’d given him a rag but hadn’t taken one for herself.

      Once she wiped off the mud, he wondered if her eyes would still look so blue under those thick lashes. And her hair was…interesting. He’d bet she cut it herself, but it somehow made her look more appealing. Her beauty was a perfect cover, all right. Of course Christian would have been captivated by her. Hell, any man would have.

      She cast a final look at Pinocchio, then turned for the door. Tucker paced himself so he could get a look at her from the back. Long and lean, she walked with utter confidence. Another puzzle to work out. Why? Why had she run, only to end up working her ass off out in the middle of nowhere?

      He got a quick look at the stable as they passed by. The younger woman he’d seen earlier approached Annie with a smile. “You okay?” the woman asked.

      “Fine. Banged up a bit. But fine.” Annie turned briefly to Tucker. “This is Melanie Knowles. She teaches at the local high school and is responsible for bringing the kids you’ve seen out here. Mel, this is Tucker Brennan.”

      He shook the woman’s hand, but she was clearly too concerned about Annie to bother with him.

      “You need some help?” she asked, nodding at the already blooming bruise forming on Annie’s forearm.

      “I’ll be fine. All the help I need is that you and the gang are here.”

      “We’ve got you covered,” Melanie said, then nodded at him and circled back to the stable, where more of her charges were waiting.

      Annie had developed a slight limp as they finally made their way into the cabin. He reached to hold the door at the same time she did. The awkward dance ended with her the victor. Then she nearly ran into him when he stepped inside and stopped dead still.

      This was more like a line shack than a cabin. A crappy line shack at that. There was a beaten-up table in the center of the small room, three mismatched chairs pushed under it. A counter held a microwave while a toaster oven and a big coffeepot flanked the sink. On the sideboard sat a computer, and above that was a large chalk duty roster that listed volunteers, chores, memos and reminders. Under the sideboard was a dorm fridge. A leather recliner had been pushed so far up against a wall he doubted there was any chance of it actually reclining.

      Stairs led up to a loft, which he imagined was her bedroom. The only other door had to be the bathroom, and that was it. He could probably fit the entire place into his walk-in closet at the ranch.

      She touched his arm to sneak around him, making him jump. “Sorry. The bathroom’s back there. Why don’t you go in first and wash up? You should probably take off that shirt and let me have a go at that cut.”

      Tucker nodded and made his way to the bathroom, maneuvering around the table. He noticed a brass lamp, the only decorative object on the lower floor. There were no pictures, no trinkets, no nothing. He assumed the cupboards were as sparse as everything else. It would have made a perfect home for a monk. But hard for someone who had things to hide. With no space to spare, she’d have to get creative.

      He’d sure like to get a look upstairs. If there was anything tying Leanna to her past, she’d keep it close when she was most vulnerable.

      The bathroom was so small it made his jaw drop. The toilet desperately needed replacing, and next to that was a very tiny shower. There was enough room to turn around. That was it. The plastic curtain was too long for the bar, and he couldn’t picture any woman he’d ever known who would last two days in this miniature house.

      The pedestal sink looked old with its stains, but clean. Underneath, there was a medical kit, and above, a wooden cabinet with a small mirror.

      His hand hit the shower enclosure as he took his shirt off. Putting it on the closed toilet, he soaped up. He checked his torso for bruises and cuts, but there was only one on his upper right hip, and while it was getting ugly, he’d survive. The cut on his arm stung, and it started bleeding a little, but it was shallow and would stop soon. No stitches needed, although an aspirin would be welcome.

      Using one of the fresh-smelling towels, he dried off, grabbed his shirt and the medical kit and went back to the main room. “It’s all yours,” he said.

      Annie opened her mouth but didn’t speak. Instead, she stared at his bared chest. He knew he wasn’t anything like one of those six-pack guys in catalogs, but he kept himself in good shape. The way she blushed surprised him, but then again, this was ostensibly a business meeting.

      “I made some coffee,” she said, finally, and that’s when the aroma hit. “You’ll find everything you need, unless you want cream. I do have some goat milk in there, though.”

      “Thanks.”

      He watched her go, feeling huge and clumsy in this small room, although he normally wasn’t. But as he investigated, finding mugs along with plates and glasses and utensils, he realized how organized Annie had to be to make things work.

      What was the use of running away with the money if this is how she had to live? There weren’t two mugs that matched, or two plates. Everything looked secondhand. The fridge had very little to say for itself—the milk, a couple of bags of greens, some condiments, two beers way in the back. A tiny freezer section held a couple of frozen burritos and ice trays.

      It wasn’t surprising that the most abundant food in the cabin were packages of ramen noodles. This was worse than a dorm room.

      She came out of the bathroom with her T-shirt untucked. She’d lost the pink on her cheeks, but she wasn’t back to meeting his gaze. “Please sit,” she said, kicking out one of the chairs.

      “Can we have coffee while we do this?”

      “Yes.” Her demeanor changed with that one word, her face somehow expressing real pleasure without having to smile. “Of course.”

      So, without the smudges on her smooth cheeks, her eyes were still that incredible blue. He liked her mouth, as well. Full lips, well-defined and naturally pink. She wore no makeup, and she sure didn’t need any.

      He