Aurora's Cowboy Daddy. Melinda Barron

turned the knob on the inner door.

      “No lock?” she asked.

      “I asked Mercy to leave it open,” he said. “Go ahead.”

      After being told off for trying to get out of the UTV on her own, and trying to open the door on her own, Aurora had waited for a command to enter, despite the fact the door was open. The inside of the cabin was light, and seemed airy.

      “Each one has two bedrooms,” he said. “There is a master bedroom and a second one with a set of bunk-beds and a twin bed for ladies who have children. There are also two bathrooms, one attached to the master and another next to the second bedroom. There is a fully stocked kitchen. When ladies arrive, the den mother takes them to the store so they can stock up on what they want to cook. Each lady is given a hundred dollars a week for food, which is mostly meats, dairy products, and such. We keep the kitchens stocked with the basics. Doing that will be your job.”

      Aurora nodded before she said, “I can do that. What else will I have to do?” She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t much of a cook.

      “The ladies will come to you with any issues they have,” he said. “Deal with them the best you can, and if they have questions you can’t answer, you come to me.

      “If someone shows up here that is not supposed to be here you call me immediately.” He stepped in front of her. “If you can’t get me you call one of my brothers. That is crucial. If our guests have someone after them, and they are found out and the person comes here, it could spell disaster.”

      He didn’t have to remind her of that. She’d taken a life over that disaster. Because of that she also had a man after her, who if he found her would, as he’d said in court, torture her and take off her head. She must have had a terrified look on her face because he gently touched her arm and said, “Are you all right?”

      Tell him, tell him, tell him, a voice inside her head screamed. But another voice said, if you do, you won’t get this job, and you desperately need it.

      “Fine,” she said. When he cocked his head and raised one eyebrow, she said, “Fine, I mean I’m fine.”

      “How many fines is that?” he asked. There was a twinkle in his eyes. “We’re going to have to start counting.” He walked toward the back door. “There is a lake just behind that copse of trees. Its depth depends on the amount of rain we’ve had. But it makes a nice place to sit at night and enjoy the evening air.”

      “Sounds wonderful,” Aurora said with a sigh. “Except for the bugs.”

      Holt laughed. “We spray for bugs. Speaking of bugs, there are animals that live out here.”

      “Um, what sort?”

      “There are coyotes, of course. Snakes, opossums. We have a problem with mice, which is why we have three cats that patrol the area. There are also roadrunners that help with the snakes. Just don’t kill anything you see. If you’re concerned, call us.”

      “I can do that,” she said.

      “There is one other thing,” he said. “In the event that someone who is not supposed to be here is here, there is a shotgun in your unit. I feel insensitive to ask, but do you know how to shoot?”

      “It’s been a while, but yes,” she said.

      “We have a shooting range set up not far from here and I’ll take you out there one day.” He opened the back door and Aurora stepped onto the deck. “We want it to be peaceful here for families who have faced trauma,” he said after he’d joined her.

      “It is,” she said. She imagined sitting on the deck with a glass of iced tea and a book. “May I ask a question?”

      “Of course.”

      “You said there was only one cabin filled right now. How many are usually filled?”

      “It depends on law enforcement,” he said. “If a lady needs to hide, and they think she is a good match, they call us and we go pick her up. We collected our one occupant today, when we picked up the horse. She has two children with her, a three-year-old, and a nine-month-old. Her husband is a habitual abuser, and she finally decided to get herself out of the situation.”

      “I wish someone had given me that chance,” Aurora whispered.

      “You’re getting one now,” Holt said.

      He had been talking as if she already had the job. “Don’t you and your brothers vote on it?”

      “Nope.” He sat down in a chair at the outdoor table. Aurora took the one opposite him. “The job is yours if you want it.”

      A job. He was actually offering her a job. She could make money. She could move out of Dana and Jake’s house.

      “You can think about it this afternoon while—”

      “I accept,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

      Oh she loved the smile that appeared on his face. She’d noticed how handsome he was before, but right now he seemed even more so. It was the first time she’d found herself attracted to a man in years. It was a frightening thought, and she pushed it down deep inside her. This wasn’t about falling for a man. This was about starting her life again, about finding her place and where she needed to be.

      “I’ll show you were the UTV is parked. You can rest this afternoon if you like, or explore your new home. Be at the house before supper. Dinner is at seven on the dot, and Austin is making steaks. He’s very good at it.”

      After he’d given her the keys to the UTV, and showed her where the one kept at the cabins was parked, Holt departed for the house. Aurora went back into the cabin and glanced around. Then she dropped her head into her hands and started to cry tears of joy. She sniffled and coughed, and then lifted her head and looked around. She had a job. She had a home of her own. She needed to be careful, to make sure she did everything the right way.

      This was the first step in a new life, and she planned to walk the straight and narrow, which meant she would concentrate on her job and helping women find their way out of a bad situation.

      She would not fall for Holt Coleman.

      She would not.

      She would not.

      She would not.

      Holt entered his office to find Hawk sitting in a guest chair, his legs stretched out and his boots on the edge of the desk. He was swiping his finger up the screen of his phone. Holt sat down in his chair and assumed the same position.

      “Get your damn boots off my desk.”

      “Up yours,” Hawk said as he continued to focus on his phone. After a few seconds he put it on his chest and said, “So, how’s the new girl? Austin says she’s a looker, old but very pretty.”

      “Old to him maybe,” Holt picked up the application Aurora had filled out online and he’d printed out to show his brothers. “She’s thirty-one,” he said after he’d found the date of her birth.

      “A three-year sentence? In prison for six months, and now off two and a half years of parole? On what charge? Murder? That seems like a very light sentence.”

      “Involuntary manslaughter,” Holt answered. “She calls herself a convicted murderer, but that’s not what she was convicted of. I told her she’d get a chance to tell her story tonight, but her parole officer said she was defending herself. It’s why the sentence was so low.”

      “How’s her personality?” Hawk asked.

      “Skittish,” Holt said. “She answers questions with one or two words, and twice I saw her jerk away as if she were afraid I was going to hit her.”

      “Bastard,” Hawk said. Then he held up