A Bride for Jericho Bravo. Christine Rimmer

step and the outer door was of iron lace. Marnie rang the bell.

      A few moments later, the inner door swung inward. Tessa stood there, in jeans and a pretty gauze shirt. Her hazel eyes darkened. She sucked in a small, shocked gasp.

      “Marnie …?”

      “Hey.”

      Tessa pushed open the outer door. “Marnie. What in the …?”

      “I couldn’t make myself go home. And I didn’t know where else to go.”

      Tessa did just the right thing then. She held out her arms.

      By three that afternoon, Marnie still felt like crap. But marginally better crap.

      Tessa had let her cry, listened to her long sad story, fed her lunch and given her a space to park her Camry in the five-car detached garage behind the house. She’d also helped Marnie carry her stuff along the walk that circled the pool to the guesthouse out in back. It was a cute little two-bedroom stone cottage, a much-smaller version of the main house, complete with a bright, galley-style kitchen and a nice view of the pool.

      “Take a long, hot shower,” Tessa instructed after helping her put her things away. “And maybe a nap.”

      “I could sleep straight through till tomorrow.”

      “Dinner first. You need to eat.”

      “You sound like Gina, you know that?” Regina Black Jones was their stepmother. She had married their father when Tessa was twelve and Marnie, nine.

      Tessa laughed. “Gina was the best thing that ever happened to us.”

      “I know. Regular meals. Rules. And a boatload of unconditional love.”

      “We needed her then.” Just like I need you now. “Tessa?”

      “Um?”

      “Thank you.”

      “Thanks are never necessary. I’m here, always. For you.” Tessa stroked her hair. “You’ll be okay.”

      Marnie answered with more confidence than she felt. “I know.”

      “A long, hot shower. And then rest. Dinner around seven or so. Just family, nothing fancy. You and me and Ash and Jericho.”

      “Jericho. One of the brothers?” It was a big family. Ash had six brothers. And two sisters. And also a half sister named Elena.

      Tessa was nodding. “Jericho is sixth-born. After Caleb, before Travis.”

      “Ah.” Marnie had met Ash’s family at the wedding. But that was two years ago. There were a lot of Bravos and they all kind of blurred together in her mind.

      Tessa cupped her face, kissed her on the cheek and left her alone.

      Peeling off her road-wrinkled clothes as she went, Marnie headed for the bathroom. After her shower, she stretched out on the sofa, where she could look out the French doors at the gleaming pool and the main house beyond. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but sheer exhaustion had every nerve humming. And in spite of the big lunch Tessa had insisted she eat, she felt hollow inside.

      Her cell rang. She grabbed her purse off the coffee table, fished out her phone and saw it was Mark. Again. He wasn’t going to stop calling until he knew she was safe.

      With a sigh, she pushed the talk button and put it to her ear. “Do you mind? Leave me alone.”

      “I just want to know that you’re all—”

      “All right?” She made a hard, snorting sound. “Well, I’m not. But I’m safe. I’m at Tessa’s.”

      “Tessa’s.” He sounded stunned. As if she’d caught a flight to the moon or something. “You went all the way to Texas.”

      “Stop calling me. I mean it. I’m alive. I’m okay. And I’m none of your damn business. Ever again.”

      “Marnie—”

      “Leave me alone.”

      “Marnie, I—”

      “Say it. I mean it. Just say you will leave me alone.”

      “I—”

      “Say it, Mark!” She shouted the demand into the phone.

      A silence. And then, at last, “All right. I’ll stop calling.”

      “Good. Goodbye.” She disconnected before he could say any more. Then she powered the phone off and tossed it on the coffee table next to her purse.

      She flopped back to the couch cushions and shut her eyes. She didn’t expect to sleep. But she did. Like a rock dropping into a bottomless well, darkness sucked her down.

      A loud rumbling sound woke her.

      For a moment, she thought maybe there was an earthquake.

      But then, groggily, she remembered where she was: not California. Tessa’s. In San Antonio.

      It all came flooding back, in total awfulness. Mark had dumped her. She’d fled to Texas …

      The rumbling sound died away. Probably some motorcycle out on the street.

      She grabbed her phone, powered it on and checked the time. Six-thirty. A half hour till dinner. So she got up, brushed her hair, put on some lip gloss, grabbed her purse and headed back over to the main house.

      The charming rock path went both ways around the pool. For a little variety, she crossed around away from the garage that time, pausing to watch fat koi gliding beneath the surface in a pond near the far fence and to take comfort from the soothing sound of the small waterfall that gurgled over rough black rocks.

      She went in through French doors to the kitchen, where the walls were a warm gold, the counters of brightly painted Spanish tile and the appliances chef-quality. Tessa’s old, nearly deaf bulldog, Mona Lou, was asleep in a dog bed in the corner. The dog got up, stretched and waddled over for a pat on the head. When she whined, Marnie opened the door again and let her out into the backyard.

      Something was cooking. It smelled really good. Her stomach grumbled, so she grabbed a banana from the big fruit bowl on the counter.

      Munching the banana, looking for Tessa and Ash, she left the kitchen and wandered through the empty family room, where Tessa’s white cat Gigi was sleeping on the couch. Gigi lifted her head and squinted at Marnie as she went by.

      Everything was so quiet. Had they left suddenly, for some reason? She paused at the curving iron-railed staircase in the foyer and glanced up toward the top floor, but didn’t mount the stairs. Maybe Ash and Tessa were up there, sharing a private moment before dinner.

      The doors to the study stood open. She finished off the last of her banana, set her purse on the entry table and poked her head in there. It was a masculine refuge, with a beautiful old desk and credenza of the same dark, rich wood and tall, carved mahogany bookcases rising to the cove ceiling. Still wondering where everyone had gone, she turned for the living room across the foyer, her footfalls echoing softly on the hardwood floor.

      She didn’t see the man until she’d reached the open archway that led into the large, bright room. He stood over by the fireplace with his back to her, his long, dark brown hair tied in a ponytail with a strip of leather, wearing a grayT-shirt, faded, torn jeans and heavy boots.

      Even from behind, he looked menacing. He was at least six-three, with a neck like a linebacker and massive tattooed arms straining the sleeves of his T-shirt. She could even see the pointed black edges of a tattoo rising out of his collar at the nape of his neck.

      Maybe it was the silence of the beautiful house, the unexpected absence of Tessa and Ash. Maybe it was the recent collapse of her life as she had come to know it. Maybe it was his size, the sense of power and strength and danger that seemed to radiate off him. Maybe it was simply her surprise at seeing him there, looking so out of place in her sister’s pretty,