Hostage At Hawk's Landing. Rita Herron

them to the volunteers,” Melissa told Dex.

      Dex hesitated, shifting on the balls of his feet. “Actually, I wanted to go with you, ask if anyone in there knew my father.”

      He removed a photo from his wallet. She’d expected to see the picture he’d shown her when they’d met in college, but this photo was of an older man, the one he must have buried.

      “Did you ever meet him?” Dex asked.

      The pain in his voice ripped at her heartstrings and reminded her that Dex had been lost when they’d first met. She’d wanted to save him, but later realized she couldn’t save everyone. She’d learned that with her own father when he’d died with one hand around the bottle, the other holding a pistol.

      He hadn’t cared enough about her to stick around. That had hurt the most.

       Water under the bridge.

      She had to move on, do what she could to help others.

      She studied the photo, mentally tapping into the decade of homeless men she’d met on the streets or in various shelters, but she didn’t recognize the one in the picture. “I’m sorry, Dex, but I don’t recall seeing him anywhere.” She squeezed his hand, a warmth stirring inside her that triggered emotions she’d once felt for this strong, hurting man.

      Dexter clenched his jaw. “All right. But I’d like to ask inside.”

      She nodded in understanding.

      Sadly, she’d heard similar stories from other families before. One family member left, leaving the others full of questions, pain and guilt. God knows she’d had her share of that over her own situation.

      It was a complicated problem and could only be dealt with one family at a time.

      Heartbreak City, if she let herself get too involved. The reason she needed to keep her distance from Dex. She had her own demons to slay.

      And she’d barely survived the first time he’d left her.

      She didn’t want to revisit that kind of pain again.

      * * *

      DEX JAMMED HIS hands in his pockets. A faint breeze stirred, bringing the scent of cigarette smoke and the hushed voices of the homeless men.

      Melissa rolled her shoulders, fatigue showing on her face. “Let’s get the men settled.”

      She texted her friend that she’d arrived, and he followed her to the door. A few minutes later, the men accepted cots in the back of the shelter, and she and Dex stood talking to Edgar, the volunteer.

      “I heard what happened,” Edgar said with a worried look. “I’m so sorry, Melissa. Are you all right?”

      “Yes,” Melissa said. “But it’s a reminder of how quickly someone can break in.”

      Dex showed Edgar the recent photograph of his father and another shot of him around the time he’d disappeared.

      “I’m sorry, sir,” Edgar said. “But he hasn’t been here.”

      “You’re sure?” Dex asked.

      “Edgar has a near photographic memory,” Melissa said.

      Dexter eyed the man. He was late forties, wore big chunky brown glasses, had a wide nose and a missing front tooth. The way he picked at his fingernails indicated nerves, maybe a habit from living a hard life himself. Everyone had a story.

      He just wanted to know what his father’s was.

      Melissa lapsed into silence as he drove her back to Lend-A-Hand. When they reached the facility, she snagged her keys from her purse. “Thanks for driving us to Another Chance.”

      “No problem.” He spotted a beat-up minivan in the parking lot and guessed it was hers. Melissa had never valued material things. “I’ll follow you home,” he offered.

      “That’s not necessary.” Her voice took on a stiff ring.

      He knew she was shaken, but he wasn’t ready to let her out of his sight. “Melissa, you could have been hurt tonight.” Killed, but he couldn’t allow himself to voice that awful thought aloud. “I’ll see that you get home safely, so don’t argue.”

      Melissa rubbed a hand over her eyes. She was obviously so exhausted she simply nodded and slipped from his SUV. Just as he thought, the beat-up minivan belonged to her.

      She jammed her keys in the ignition, the engine taking three tries to sputter to life.

      Anger that she sacrificed so much for others mingled with worry that she might have died doing just that.

      She deserved so much better. To have diamonds and pearls. At least a car that didn’t look as if it had been rolled twice.

      He glanced back at the shelter before he pulled from the parking lot. Melissa was no doubt worried about the men she’d had to move tonight. But worry for her raged through him. He didn’t like the fact that Melissa put herself in danger by trying to help them. Tonight’s incident proved the facility wasn’t secure.

      The thought of losing her bothered him more than he wanted to admit as he followed her through the streets of Austin. His gut tightened when she veered into an area consisting of transitional homes. A couple had been remodeled, but most looked as if they were teardowns. The street was not in the best part of town, either, and was known for shady activities, including drug rings and gangs.

      Her house was a tiny bungalow with a sagging little porch and paint-chipped shutters, and sat next to a rotting shanty where two guys in hoodies hovered by the side porch, heads bent in hushed conversation as if they might be in the middle of a drug deal.

      He gritted his teeth as he parked and walked up the graveled path to the front porch. She paused, her key in hand. A handcrafted wreath said Welcome Home, which for some reason twisted his gut even more.

      Melissa had never had a real home, while he’d grown up on the ranch with family and brothers and open land.

      She offered him a small smile. “Thanks for following me, Dex.”

      “I’ll go in and check the house,” he said, itching to make sure that at least her windows and doors were secure. From his vantage point now, it looked as if a stiff wind would blow the house down.

      She shook her head. “That’s not necessary, but I appreciate it.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.”

      She opened the door and ducked inside without another word and without looking back. An image of her crawling into bed in that lonely old house taunted him.

      He wanted to join her. Hold her. Make sure she was all right tonight.

      But that would be risky for him.

      Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in danger as he walked back to his SUV.

       Chapter Four

      Melissa closed the door, shutting Dex outside and hoping he left immediately. She had come close to allowing him to come in. But if she had, she might have asked him to stay all night.

      And that would be a mistake.

      It had taken her months to get over him when he’d walked out of her life in college. She’d dreamed about him for even longer. Worse, she’d compared every date she’d ever had to Dex and no one had come close to measuring up.

      Eventually she’d just stopped dating. Had accepted the fact that marriage wasn’t for her, that her family was the people she served. They needed her.

      Worse tonight...the shelter she’d given so much of her heart and time to was a crime scene.

      She dropped her keys and purse on the