Although several days passed without incident, Heather didn’t let down her guard. Lyle was right in his assessment of Bret. Her ex was a coward who liked to hide behind others so he wouldn’t get his hands dirty. And although she didn’t have proof, her gut instinct told her he was involved. She could handle the likes of Darren Richards. But Bret was another matter. The thought of him appearing in her life again triggered the vulnerable, fearful emotions she’d spent the past year trying to heal.
And the timing was ironic. Just when she’d started to feel like she could move forward, possibly entertain a relationship with another man, she was forced to relive everything she’d done wrong in the past and reminded of the vows she’d made because of that.
To only rely on herself and never be vulnerable to a man again.
Even though it was wrong to lump Lyle into the same category as Bret, firmly entrenched scars kept rearing up, making her worry and doubt, reminding her to proceed with caution.
A gentle breeze filtered through the trees as late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the verdant paddocks where a couple of the cowboys were turning out the trail horses for the evening. Lyle had been away most of the day on an emergency call at the Carson’s ranch who had a mare in distress.
So much for caution, she thought. She’d known the exact moment he’d left the ranch and had watched for him practically every minute until he’d returned a few minutes ago and disappeared into the house. She was worse than a love-struck teen.
She whistled for Holly and Scout who had adapted to their new training area without a hitch. The puppies, on the other hand, not so much. Smiling, she scooped up Pepper as the little terrier broke out of her ‘sit’ command to pounce on a grasshopper. “Silly girl. You’re going to be a pistol to train, aren’t you?”
In answer, Pepper gave a quick lick to Heather’s face and vibrated her whole little body in a happy wag. “We’ve got new clients coming tomorrow, Pepper, so you better put on your listening ears if you want off lease privileges.”
She'd spent the better part of the day moving the rest of her scheduled client sessions to the main ranch property, explaining the situation as simply as possible without causing alarm. Most of her clients had been understanding, even supportive, and a few had offered to help in whatever way they could.
The sense of community still amazed her.
"Miss Heather!" Charlotte's voice carried across the yard as she ran toward the training area, Pudge trotting dutifully behind her. "Uncle Mike says supper's almost ready!"
Heather glanced at her watch, surprised by how quickly the day had passed. "Okay, sweetie. Let me just get everyone settled for the night."
"Can I help?"
"Of course. Why don't you get Pepper and Sherry’s evening meal ready while I settle Holly and Scout?"
Charlotte beamed, clearly pleased with the responsibility. As she carefully measured out the puppy food, Heather couldn't help but marvel at how naturally the little girl had taken to caring for the animals. It was as though each furry creature helped heal a small piece of her grief.
"There's a black truck coming in the driveway," Charlotte said suddenly, peering out the barn window. "Is that the bad man?"
Heather's heart rate kicked up, but before she could respond, Kenny materialized in the doorway, his hand resting casually on his concealed weapon. The man was like an invisible ninja!
"It's just the FBI agents Joe called," he said, his voice steady. "They're here to talk to you."
Heather nodded, grateful for Kenny's constant vigilance. She'd noticed how the brothers had organized an informal security rotation, making sure someone was always nearby without making it obvious.
"Charlotte, why don't you take Pudge and go find Uncle Mike?" Kenny suggested. "He could probably use some help setting the table."
Charlotte looked between them, her young face serious. “Miss Heather will be safe, right?"
"Promise," Kenny said, and something in his tone made Heather believe him completely.
As Charlotte disappeared toward the back of the house, Kenny turned to Heather. "Ready?"
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "As I'll ever be."
They walked together to the main house, where two agents in dark suits were already seated in the living room with Joe and Lyle. The female agent stood as they entered, extending her hand.
"Ms. Prescott? I'm Agent Sarah Martinez, and this is Agent Thompson. We'd like to talk to you about Darren Richards and Bret McGowen."
"Of course." Heather settled on the sectional sofa, acutely aware of Lyle's steady presence beside her. The warmth of his thigh pressing against hers gave her a sense of calm. "Where should we start?"
"From the beginning," Agent Martinez said, pulling out a notebook. "Tell us about your first interaction with Mr. Richards."
For the next hour, Heather recounted everything, from Richards' initial visit and subsequent pressure tactics to the competing bid on the property, the unlocked door and the escalating threats. She described Bret's past behavior, the abuse she'd endured, and the suspicious appearances of the red truck.
She’d spent nearly eight years guarding the ugly details of her life and marriage, and now in the past few days she’d recounted every awful event in front of law enforcement, FBI agents and four very virile, protective men, one of whom she might well be in love with.
