“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this heat.” Daphne Miller sat on the front porch of the small clapboard house out in the middle of the hills in practically nowhere Utah. She fanned herself with a five-month old copy of a celebrity magazine, wishing she were anywhere else in the world. “Do you think they’re any closer to getting the evidence they need to nail the bastard who killed Sylvia Jansen? I’d think my testimony alone would be sufficient to put him away for a very long time. Otherwise, why go to all the trouble of witness protection?”

Her forty-seven-year-old bodyguard with the gray streaks at his temples and weathered skin sat in a wooden rocking chair, his feet resting on the porch railing, a piece of straw sticking out of his mouth. Chuck Johnson rolled the straw between his teeth before answering. “You’d think after a year, the feds would have what they need.”

Daphne pushed to her feet, restlessness fueling her irritation. “All I know is that I’ve sat in this cabin in this godforsaken heat for longer than I can stand. I need to move on with my life. I can’t stay here forever. For all we know, they’ve forgotten I saw anything. Harrison Cooper probably thinks I’m dead or fell off the face of the earth. He might have moved on to his next victim by now. And I’m sitting here doing nothing.” She paced to the end of the porch and back, skirting Chuck and his feet propped against the porch railing.

A tiny cry sounded inside the house.

“I’ll get her.” Chuck dropped his booted feet to the porch and hurried inside to check on Maya, Daphne’s three-month old baby girl.

Daphne held up her hands and snorted. “He’s even better at parenting than her own mother.” She loved Maya, but sometimes she wondered if Maya loved Chuck more than her.

Chuck returned to the porch carrying Maya on one arm, cradling the back of her head with his opposite hand. He handed the child to Daphne. “I changed her, but it’s not a dirty diaper that’s making her fussy. She’s hungry.”

Daphne took the baby in her arms, sank into the rocking chair and lifted the hem of her tank top.

Too hot for a bra, she’d left it off that morning, giving Maya free access to her milk supply.

The baby rooted around until she found Daphne’s nipple and sucked hungrily, making slurping noises that made Daphne laugh.

Chuck cleared his throat and turned away. “I’ll make some iced tea.”

“Thank you.” Daphne smiled at the man’s reluctance to watch the baby nursing. Hell, he’d been there when Maya was born and helped Daphne when she’d had trouble getting the baby to latch on. Why he would feel the need to give her privacy now was a mystery. But Daphne liked to push his buttons. Anything for a reaction in the incredible boredom of her current situation.

Short of feeding Maya, Chuck did everything else with the baby, including getting down on the floor to play with her when Daphne was too tired to entertain her sweet baby girl.

How she wished things had turned out differently. But then she’d wished that for the past year. Not the part about being pregnant or having a baby. Maya was the light of her life. What Daphne despised was being stuck in this godforsaken corner of the Utah desert hill country with nothing to do but count the minutes of every day. If something didn’t happen soon, she’d explode.

She switched Maya to the other breast and let the baby drink her fill. The day was much like every other day. Wake up to feed Maya, change her diaper, cook breakfast for herself and Chuck and, sometimes, one of the other guards. The sun rose, the sun set and on and on and on... Only the occasional rare, violent storm ever broke their routine. God, how she wished for one now.

Daphne leaned Maya up on her shoulder and patted the bubbles out of her tummy. She cradled the baby in the curve of her arm and then sat in the growing heat, wondering where she’d gone wrong in her life to deserve so much drama and yet so much boredom.

Chuck emerged through the back screen door and took up his position in the rocking chair. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to be relaxed and enjoying the suffocating heat of the late fall day.

Daphne sighed and rocked Maya in her arms. “I’ll be glad when winter finally gets here.”

“You and me both,” Chuck said, his gaze on the horizon and his voice even.

“Tell me again about what you did for the Navy SEALs,” Daphne coaxed.

In profile, he arched an eyebrow. “I already told you a dozen times. Aren’t you tired of my stories?”

She shrugged. “Beats boredom. And it gives me an idea of what Maya’s father might be doing right now, as we speak.”

Chuck sighed. “There’s nothing sexy about tromping through the desert, carrying all of your equipment on your back, steel plates in your vest and facing an enemy that uses women and children as shields to block the bullets meant for them.”

Daphne stared down at Maya, her heart contracting. She couldn’t imagine someone putting a bullet through her baby girl’s chest. “Then tell me about your training to become a SEAL.” She liked hearing about the rigors of BUD/S training, and how only the best of the best made it through to the end.

Chuck had survived BUD/S training. Since Brandon had made it through as well, he was another man who’d proved he was one of the best.

Again, Chuck sighed and started at the beginning of his training and told her of the different weeks and what each entailed.

Daphne half-listened...and half-daydreamed about meeting Maya’s father in Cozumel.

She’d been there on what should have been her honeymoon, but had turned out to be a solitary vacation. She’d gone with a heavy heart, having lost her fiancé six months earlier to a brain tumor. Because they’d had non-refundable tickets, Jonah had insisted she go, even though it would be without him.

During his treatment and decline, Daphne had been at his side. He’d insisted she go as part of her promise to move on, find love, get married and have children.

At the time of Jonah’s death, Daphne was convinced she’d never find another man to love as much as she’d loved Jonah. He’d been her everything, from the moment they’d met in high school, through college and during his final hours on earth.

He’d loved her unconditionally and had wanted half-a-dozen children with her, the little house with the white picket fence and everything normal couples dreamed of when making plans for their futures.

Two months after he’d proposed to her, he’d fallen ill. After many tests, X-rays, scans and MRIs, the diagnosis had been grim. He had terminal brain cancer and less than five months to live.

All of their plans were pushed to the side as they fought to change that diagnosis to something that involved growing old together.

Alas, nearly five months sped by, and no amount of medication slowed the growth of the tumor. At four months, three weeks and two days following his diagnosis, Jonah slipped into a coma and died in Daphne’s arms.

Before he passed, he’d made her promise to go on their honeymoon and find a man who made her heart beat faster. A man who would love her always and provide her with the family she and Jonah had always wanted. And he’d asked her to name a little girl after their honeymoon resort in remembrance of the love Daphne and Jonah had shared in his short time on earth.

Daphne stared down at the baby girl in her arms.

Maya with her black curls, so unlike Daphne’s straight blond hair. Jonah had had light brown hair and blue eyes. Nothing about Maya reminded Daphne of Jonah, except her name.

Even then, she reminded Daphne more of the man she’d met in Cozumel, her baby’s father, a tall, dark, handsome Navy SEAL who’d found her sitting on the beach one night, alone and crying.

Brandon Rayne, or Boomer, as his teammates had nicknamed him, could have walked away, leaving the weepy woman on the sand in the moonlight, but he hadn’t. He’d dropped down beside her, taken her hand, pulled her into his arms and held her until her tears stopped falling.

He’d listened to her sad story, patted her back and held her. When she’d wiped away the tears and collected herself, he’d stood, held out a hand and pulled her up into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Everything is going to be all right,” he’d assured her.

She stared up into his moonlit dark eyes. “How do you know?”

He chuckled. “I don’t. But being on a sandy beach with a beautiful woman makes me wholly optimistic.” Then he’d walked her back to her room at the resort and given her his cell phone number in case she ever wanted to walk on the beach at night. He didn’t like the idea of her walking alone.

And that’s how their brief and fiery romance spun up into a raging flame. If Daphne believed in ghosts, she’d bet Jonah had sent the SEAL to remind her that her fiancé had died, not her. She had a life to live, and oh, by the way, this handsome SEAL seemed interested in her and wanted to spend time with her.

Once she got over the guilt, Daphne enjoyed the quiet walks at night on the beach. And what was moonlight without a kiss?

One kiss with Boomer wasn’t nearly enough. By the second night, he’d invited her to dance and then to his bungalow for a drink. The remaining five days were spent together in paradise. Swimming, dancing, parasailing and learning how to love as if for the first time.

When the last night came, Daphne slipped out of his room, after he fell asleep to return to hers to pack for the trip home. She hadn’t wanted to wake him, hating tearful goodbyes. She wanted to remember him as he was, big, gorgeous and naked against the sheets.

On her way from his bungalow to her room in the tower, she’d run across a young man, arguing with a woman.

The woman slapped the young man.

Daphne had been too far away to hear what she said, but clearly, she wasn’t happy with the man. When the woman turned to walk away, the blond man clasped her wrist and spun her toward him.

She told him to let go.

When he didn’t, she tugged hard, trying to free herself.

Daphne had sped up, trying to get closer to help the woman.

By the time she reached them, the blond man had wrapped his hands around the woman’s neck so tightly, he was choking her.

The woman beat at his chest with her fists, but he wouldn’t release his grip.

Daphne grabbed a stick from the ground and hit the man over and over, but he wouldn’t let go of the woman until her body sagged and fell to the ground.

Then he turned his attention to Daphne.

The man blocked the path, preventing her from running back to the bungalow where Boomer lay sleeping peacefully.

With no other choice, Daphne spun and ran toward the resort, the sound of footsteps pounding on the path behind her. She’d almost reached the entrance when an arm reached out of the darkness, grabbed her, yanked her into the shadow of the bushes, and pushed her toward the ground. A hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her attempt to scream.

“Be still, or he’ll find you and kill you,” a voice whispered into her ear.

Steps crunched on the gravel path, heading her direction.

Daphne lay still, more afraid of the man who’d choked a woman to death than the stranger holding her in the darkness.

The killer stalked past her, his eyes narrow, his gaze darting into the shadows. In his left hand, he held a small handgun.

Freezing in place, Daphne held her breath, praying he didn’t see her lying there. Vulnerable to the man holding her and to the killer brandishing a gun, she prayed she’d chosen the lesser of two evils.

The assailant tucked the weapon into waistband of his trousers and closed his suit jacket over the bulge, before entering the resort tower.

Not until the door closed behind him, did Daphne let go of the breath she’d held.

The man holding her removed his hand from her mouth and loosened the arm around her middle.

She scrambled to her feet and stared at the stranger as he pushed to his feet and stood. He towered over her, his muscular body even more proof he could have had his way with her and she’d have had little chance of fighting free.

That’s how she remembered meeting Chuck.

He’d been the one responsible for saving her life and that of her unborn baby by whisking her away from Cozumel and back to the States.

“I’m Agent Johnson. Chuck Johnson.” He’d shown her his credentials as a DEA agent in pursuit of a man who smuggled drugs and murdered beautiful women.

“That man chasing you happens to be the son of a high-powered senator. He’s suspected of drug and human trafficking, as well as several counts of murder.”

“Then why aren’t you stopping him?” Daphne demanded.

“He’s a slippery bastard. The witnesses or drug dealers have a habit of turning up dead before charges can be brought against him.” The stranger frowned. “Why was he chasing you?”

Daphne’s heart plummeted into her belly as she recalled how hard the woman had fought and how many times Daphne had hit the man with the stick to no avail. “He killed a woman.”

“Show me.” Chuck edged up to the path, glancing both ways before motioning for her to go ahead of him.

Before they reached the point at which the woman had been strangled, two men appeared from the direction of the beach, dressed in black. The glow of the Tiki lamps lighting the path glinted off the smooth metal of the pistols they carried in their hands.

Chuck pulled her back into the shadows and blocked her body with his.

But he didn’t block her entire vision.

The two men in black moved the woman’s body, carrying it toward the ocean.

“See what I mean?” her muscular rescuer said. “He has a cleanup detail following him around.”

Shocked at what she’d just seen, Daphne tried to push him aside. “You can’t let him get away with killing someone.”

“And what do you suggest? If I kill those men, it will appear as if I killed the woman. You and I will be split up, and more cleanup crews will be called in to deal with you and me. Our best bet is to get you out of here before they come looking for you.”

At that exact moment, two more men appeared, coming from the direction of the resort, also dressed in black and carrying weapons.

Daphne sank back into the bushes, shaking. “I know the man staying in the fourth bungalow from the end of the path. We can hide there,” she suggested.

Chuck shook his head. “No good. If you were there before, they’ll track you down to that location again. The staff knows the comings and goings of all the guests. And they can be bribed.”

But Daphne wanted to go back to where she’d left Boomer sleeping. If she’d stayed with him the entire night, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. The woman would still be dead, but Daphne wouldn’t now be targeted for elimination.

Again, she stayed still, waiting for the two men in black to pass by their position. She had no other choice in the matter. She had to get away from the scene of the crime. Perhaps then, they could circle back and report the crime to the local authorities.

That had been a year ago.

As far as Daphne knew, Harrison Cooper was still free, while she and Maya had been stuck in a cabin in Utah, waiting for something to happen that would put Cooper behind bars.

When Chuck paused in his description of Hell Week at BUD/S, Daphne pushed to her feet. “I’m going to go put Maya to bed. Hold that thought. I want to hear more.” She smiled at the only human contact she’d had besides the doctors and nurses who’d delivered her baby in the Salt Lake City hospital and her two-man protection crew who guarded the entrance to this lonely house.

Chuck had admitted he wasn’t with the DEA. He was with a super-secret government entity, assigned to clean up corruption amongst politicians. He’d come up with false identification and insurance cards to cover her and the baby. As soon as she was able, he’d packed up her and Maya and orchestrated their disappearance from the hospital into the foothills of Utah’s Wasatch Mountain Range, near the Wyoming border.

Daphne had grown to love Chuck like a surrogate father or a favorite big brother. On more than one occasion, she found herself referring to him as Maya’s godfather. And he was her only link to the outside world.

He had connections with the SEAL community, having retired from the Navy before taking on a role with the DEA.

Daphne knew, if she asked, he’d tell her where Boomer was, and whether he was dead or alive. When she’d been at her lowest, suffering from postpartum depression shortly after Maya was born, he’d told her Boomer was back in the States, preparing to deploy to Iraq.

She’d been tempted to reach out to Boomer and let him know he had a beautiful baby girl. But how fair would that have been, knowing he was about to deploy. And by letting him know about his baby, she might give up her location, something she couldn’t afford to do. Her life wasn’t nearly as important to her as keeping Maya safe.

Now that she had a baby, she had to do everything in her power to protect Maya from Harrison Cooper’s cleanup team. As effective as they’d been in Cozumel, they would show no remorse over using an infant as a bargaining chip to lure Daphne out into the open. Once they located her, she’d disappear, and then they’d have no use for Maya.

Daphne’s heart squeezed hard in her chest as she laid her baby in the crib.

Maya’s sweet lips puckered as if she were still suckling at Daphne’s breast. She squirmed, stretched and laid still, her belly full, her comfort secured.

Daphne smiled and straightened, her attention drawn to the window overlooking the dirt road leading up to the cabin. A plume of dust rose from a vehicle moving swiftly up the mile-long track.

A second of concern rippled through Daphne, but she refused to be alarmed. Not yet.

Their dayshift gate guard, Rodney Smith, was one of two men who’d been assigned to provide backup and support. Rodney was on day shift, while Paul Caney preferred nights and slept in town during the day. They stood guard at the entrance gate to the mountain cabin a mile away, keeping in contact with Chuck via handheld, two-way radios.

“Chuck? Has Rodney checked in?” she called out.

Chuck entered the house, passed the door to Maya’s nursery and exited through the front door onto the porch. With the two-way radio held to his ear, his gaze fixed on the cloud of dust racing toward them. “Smith, report,” he said over and over.

When nothing but static came across the radio, Chuck spun and raced back into the house, his face stern, his fists clenched. “Take Maya to the shed. Now! This isn’t a drill.”

Daphne’s heart tripped and raced. They’d practiced this drill numerous times. If Chuck said take Maya to the shed, they were in trouble.

Daphne reached for her “go pack”, the backpack carrying the essentials necessary for the baby, slung it over her shoulders, then she gathered Maya into her arms and ran out the back of the house to the shed.

In the shed, she pulled a baby sling over her shoulder, settled Maya into the sling and tightened it so that she fit snugly against Daphne’s chest. She settled a helmet over her head and buckled the strap.

Chuck arrived a few seconds later and flung open the back doors he’d installed on the shed.

“Everything set?” Daphne asked as she swung her leg over the seat of a four-wheeler.

He nodded. “Do you want me to take Maya?”

Daphne shook her head. “I’ve got her.”

“You can take the lead until we reach the pass. I’ve got your six. The paths are narrow. The vehicles coming up the road won’t be able to follow for long—if they make it past the surprise I left for them.”

“Where will we go?” Daphne asked.

“I have a friend in Montana. He’ll know what to do. He’ll help protect you and Maya.”

Daphne nodded, pressed the throttle lever on the four-wheeler and sent the vehicle lurching forward and up the trail into the mountains.

Chuck followed, bringing up the rear, armed to the teeth with rifles, handguns, knives and hand grenades.

All they had to do was get far enough away from rifle fire, and they’d make good their escape from those attacking the cabin. But the race up the side of the mountain left them exposed for several minutes. What they needed was a distraction.

Daphne didn’t look back, she held tightly to the handlebars of the ATV, moving as quickly as she could up the rough mountain trail, praying the men heading for the cabin didn’t stop and take aim at the riders on the escaping four-wheelers.

An explosion echoed off the hillsides, followed by another, even bigger, that ripped through the air, shaking the earth beneath the four, knobby tires. Daphne nearly lost her grip on the four-wheeler handlebars. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder at the cabin. Nothing remained of her temporary home. Nothing but debris, fire and smoke.

Chuck slowed, frowning. “I planned on the first explosion, but not the second.”

“Did you detonate the house?” Daphne asked.

Her protector shook his head. “No. I had some trip wires set up in front of the house. Looks like it just made them mad enough to destroy the house.”

Daphne swallowed the sob rising up her throat, threatening to choke off her air. That cabin had been her baby’s first home. The crib, the extra clothing and toys had been all Maya had known. Where they’d go from here was a huge unknown.

All Daphne knew was she had to get Maya to safety. Everything that had been in the cabin was just stuff. She could replace stuff. She couldn’t replace the life of her baby girl.

Chuck had a friend in Montana.

After a year, waiting for something to happen and thinking it never would, Daphne was now a believer. Her heart weighed heavily for the guard on the gate. More than likely, Rodney was dead.

She prayed Chuck’s friend in Montana had the power and resources to protect her and Maya.