Noelle froze when she saw a man emerge from the shadows into the aisle of the barn. He was lean and wiry. A small man with glasses, and the kind of shifty eyes that made fear creep down her spine. There was no way he had the physique to ride a bull, but there was an ominous presence that clung to him, a raw, insidious power that hung over him like a poisoned aura. He nodded at Wyatt as he walked in. "Wyatt."

Wyatt tensed, his hand digging into Noelle's hip. "You?"

The man raised his brows. "Good evening, Wyatt."

"What the hell? You tried to murder me for this ranch? Is that what this is about?" Wyatt sounded incredulous, but from the hard expression on the man's face, Noelle had a feeling Wyatt was right that this was the one who had tried to kill him, but why? Who was this guy?

The man said nothing, and she felt Wyatt tense. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke, he sounded calm and steady, clearly trying to deescalate the situation. "I'm not planning on buying this ranch, Nathan." Wyatt's hand tightened on Noelle's hip. "You can have it."

"It doesn't matter. Bunny won't sell it to me. My own aunt won't sell me the land that should be mine by inheritance."

Awareness dawned on Noelle. This was Bunny's nephew, and he wanted the ranch. Why on earth would anyone want a ranch so much that they would murder for it? That made no sense.

Nathan's face was dark, almost twisted with hate as he glared at Wyatt. "I spent twenty years being nice to the old bat so that I'd get what I was owed, but she won't sell it to me. She doesn't want a resort property, even though it would make us all rich. She wants to remain true to the spirit of the place. Horses. A ranch. All that bullshit."

"I am not planning on buying the ranch," Wyatt said again, his voice calm and steady. Only the tightness of his grip on Noelle's hip indicated how tense he was.

Nathan circled closer, like a predator stalking his prey, which she found so creepy that she would definitely put it in her next book, assuming she didn't die. Oh, God. Was she going to die? Who would kill over a ranch? That was absurd, right?

Nathan sneered at Wyatt. "I saw Bunny's will two months ago. If she dies, you get it. You get the whole damn place. So, I can't kill her as long as you're around."

The casual way he referenced killing his aunt made fear congeal in Noelle's stomach. Oh, God. Seriously? With all the psychos she'd written about, she had truly failed to do justice to how damn scary it was to be trapped by one.

"She never believed all the rumors about you being a cheat," Nathan continued. "I worked hard as hell, and so did Octavia, to spread those rumors. I got the whole tour labeling you as a cheat, and Bunny still worships you." Bitterness raked across his face. "You're a damned cheat, and you still get the ranch." Then, he reached behind him, grabbed something from his waistband, and raised a gun. "Unless you die before she does. Then I'm all the family she has left, and it's mine."

Wyatt went utterly still, and Noelle froze. She couldn't breathe. Her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs. There was an actual gun pointed at them. A gun. Dear God. How was this possible?

She'd spent three years with David, trying to help him deal with the fact he was dying. She'd been so certain she understood what it was like to face death, to know what it was like to understand one's mortality, but nothing in her life, or her experience with David, had prepared her for the shock to her body as she stared at that gun.

A thousand thoughts and memories flooded her...and every one was about the life she'd let slip away. About giving up on living, on loving, both herself and others, because she'd been so caught up in duty, or obligation, or all of the noise that life had hammered her with for so long.

Dear God. She was going to die, just like David. Except David had lived fully while he'd been alive. He'd opened his restaurant. He'd saved his brother. He'd married the woman he loved. What had she done? Rotted away for the last year under the weight of guilt and obligation, trying to live David's life for him...not her life. His. Which he had already done, to the best of his ability.

And now...there was a man pointing a gun at her. A man who had done his best to sabotage Wyatt's career, and tried to kill him a few months ago, and now... God, now he looked like he was ready to finish it.

Nathan wasn't bluffing. She could see the fury, the ice-cold anger in his eyes, the absolute sense of entitlement. The ranch belonged to him, and Wyatt was the one standing in his way.

Wyatt.

Suddenly, she forgot about herself. She forgot about her own mortality. Everything was obliterated by the thought of the man still shielding her with his body, the one who had just found out that the rumors that had robbed him of a career he was due had been carefully orchestrated to ruin him.

Wyatt still hadn't moved, but his fingers were digging into her hip almost painfully, the only indication that he'd heard anything Nathan had said. "Noelle," he said softly. "I think you should leave. Nathan and I have some things to talk about."

Her heart tightened. He was trying to get her to safety. He wasn't reacting to anything Nathan had said. He'd somehow managed to stay completely calm, and she knew it was for her sake. How sweet was that? He was every bit as heroic as she'd thought he was.

Nathan didn't lower the gun, but his gaze flicked to Noelle. "Who are you?"

"She's a guest at the ranch," Wyatt answered. "Bunny did a house swap with her, and she just arrived today. She has nothing to do with it. Let her walk away."

Nathan's gaze flicked to her, and she saw the hesitation in his eyes. He didn't want to kill her, a random stranger. Thank God. A murderer with morals, a line he wouldn't cross. Yay for her, right? "Is that true?" he asked her.

Before Noelle could emphatically confirm that yes, indeed, she didn't need to be killed today, Octavia interrupted. "Wyatt was kissing her. I saw them. He had her pinned against the wall and they were getting it on."

Noelle felt the blood drain from her face as Nathan's face darkened. "You fucking liar, Wyatt. Anyone who matters to you becomes fair game." He aimed the gun at Noelle. "You shacked up with the wrong guy, sweetheart. Too bad for you."

Noelle's throat suddenly felt so dry she couldn't talk. "Please let me go. Wyatt's telling the truth. I mean, yeah, he kissed me, but I don't know him." If she could just get out of there, she could call 9-1-1, and–

Wyatt's fingers tightened on her hip. "Nathan, don't make it worse for yourself. Let her go."

"No." Nathan's face darkened. "Fuck you, Wyatt. Just fuck you." He nodded at Octavia. "Get the rope from the tack room." He pointed the gun at Wyatt. "You two, into that stall. Now."

Noelle's heart pounded. Rope? Stall? Wyatt took her elbow and began to move her toward the stall. He was moving slowly, and his body was tense. She knew he was looking for an opening, but there wasn't one, not yet. The guy had a freaking gun. What kind of opening could they get against a gun?

As they moved across the aisle toward the stall, she saw a stack of metal cans outside the main door. Gasoline? Dear God, he was going to burn down the barn with them in it. Destroy the ranch and kill the heir at the same time. Why did murder seem so much more fun when she was writing about it in her cute, little condo, than it did when she was faced with it in real life? Honestly. This was not at all the same thing! "Wyatt–"

"I see the gasoline," he whispered.

Noelle felt like she was going to throw up as they moved toward the stall. Behind Nathan, Wyatt's horse had wandered off, nosing through the hay bales at the far end of the aisle in search of a snack. He was near the door, close enough to get out if the barn started burning. Would he leave, or would they all go down? Because it was bad enough for Wyatt and her to die, but a horse, too? That was just wrong on a whole other level.

Anger on behalf of Lightning pulsed through her, chasing away the fear. Burning to death? Really? What kind of asinine plot was that? It was melodramatic, and, quite frankly, much too brutal for her cozy mysteries, which meant it was much too brutal for real life. For God's sake, this needed to end now. "Nathan," she said, impressed with how she managed to keep her voice from trembling. "You haven't done anything bad yet. If you walk away, you're still free. It's not worth it over a ranch, and you'll get caught. They always do." Well, not always, but he would be a pretty obvious suspect once the fire marshal figured out it was arson.

Nathan's face was impassive as he watched them. "Shut up, bitch. I don't give a shit what you have to say. You lost the right to have me care when you kissed this cheat."

Okay, that was it. She was officially pissed now. "He's not a cheat!" She snapped the words before she could stop herself. "You can spread all the rumors you want, but the reason your aunt believes in Wyatt is because she can see the truth. He's a good man, and killing him will never change that!"

Wyatt swore under his breath when he heard Noelle defend him. Fear ripped through him, a raw terror for her safety. He caught her arm and pulled her behind him. "Don't defend me," he muttered under his breath. "I don't need it."

She glared at him. "Yes, you do. You haven't defended yourself your whole life, have you? You just ride silently, hoping that if you win, people will forget about the rumors. Why don't you just tell them?"

"Because they won't believe me, and I'm not wasting my breath." They were near the doorway to the stall now, and Wyatt could see Octavia coming back down the aisle toward them, several ropes in her hand. Hell. If Nathan got them in the stall, there would be no way out.

He had no doubt that Nathan meant to kill them both. Wyatt had an idea, a sliver of an opportunity that might give Noelle time to get away. He knew it wouldn't be enough to save them both, but it would get Noelle out of there.

Noelle. His gut tightened. She'd mouthed off to a psychopath with a gun to defend him. What was she thinking? She shouldn't have done it, but at the same time, it felt so damn good, good in a way he could barely register, to have her defending him openly, and without fear of reprisal. Just because she believed in him and wouldn't sit back silently when she could right a wrong.

What the hell? He didn't even understand that. There was a gun pointing at her and a problem that wasn't hers, yet she'd made it hers by standing up for him.

And for that, he would do whatever it took to make her safe.

He caught her arms. "Resist me," he whispered under his breath. "Resist going in the stall."

She looked at him sharply, then stopped in place. "I'm not going in there," she announced. "There's no way that I'm going to roll over so that some jerk can kill me easily."

He almost chuckled at the stubbornness on her face. He could feel her trembling, but no one would guess it from looking at her. "Don't make it difficult," he said, loud enough for Nathan to hear. "We can still talk him out of it." He wrapped his arm around her waist, as if he were trying to force her into the stall. The action brought her up against him, close enough for him to whisper under his breath into her ear. "When I say go, run for the doors and don't look back," he muttered, as he continued to make a show of trying to push her into the stall. With her resisting back, it wasn't hard to make a scene.

Her body was warm and soft against his, vulnerable and real, making fear congeal in his gut. He'd never been scared of death in his life, but he was absolutely scared shitless right now at the thought she could get hurt. "My truck is parked in back," he said softly, "and the keys are in the ignition. Drive like hell south and you'll reach a general store. Call the cops from there, and don't come back. Got it?"

"Let me go," she snapped, pushing at him. He wasn't sure if the resistance was for Nathan's benefit, or if she didn't like his plan.

Too bad if she didn't like it. He was getting her the hell out of there. "Got it?" he asked quietly, locking his arms around her waist, a move that brought her tightly against him.

She looked at him. "You come with me," she whispered.

"Won't work that way," he said. "Got it?"

She searched his face.

"We will both die," he snapped, barely able to keep his voice quiet, the fear for her safety was so great. He knew Nathan would believe the false struggle for only so long. "Get the hell out. Got it?"

She looked at him for a long moment, and finally nodded. Relief rushed through him, and for a moment, he paused, sliding his fingers along her jaw. Her skin was so soft, so beautiful, so flawless. "You're the sunshine that I've never seen in my life, until now," he whispered. "Never stop pouring your light into the world. Promise?"

Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded. "Don't die," she whispered. "He doesn't deserve it."

"I know, babe. I know. But sometimes that's the way life is." Unable to stop himself, he bent his head and kissed her. A slow, short kiss that said all the words he didn't know how to say. A thank you for showing him the things he'd never been able to see before this moment. He pulled back, searching her face. He saw confusion and warmth, a kindness that made his heart turn over. He was vaguely aware of Octavia's snort of disgust, and Nathan's command to hurry up, but he didn't care.

All that mattered was Noelle.

He pulled back, and for one endless, agonizingly short moment, he simply stared at her. He saw in her eyes the future that he'd never hoped for, the hope he'd never dared have. On her face, he saw something similar, a warmth directed right at him that seemed to sink deep into his heart...and suddenly, he didn't want to die either.

He wanted a chance with this woman. A chance to see what could happen.

But it wasn't a risk he would take if it meant endangering her.

There would be time only to save her. Not both of them. He had to make the choice. "I wish I had more time with you," he said softly.

Tears filled her eyes. "Not again," she whispered. "God, not again."

He knew she was referring to the man she'd loved and lost, and his heart turned over. Somehow, in the short time they'd been together, she'd put Wyatt in the same place in her heart. Son of a bitch. If he died, it would hurt her.

Screw that.

She didn't get hurt twice.

For her sake, he'd have to live. Resolution flooded him, and he turned toward Nathan and Octavia, his mind rapidly assessing his options. Octavia was furious, but his gut told him she wouldn't kill him. He had to bank on that. Was it worth the risk of being wrong, if it gave him a chance to save his own life?

He felt the way Noelle's fingers were digging into his back, and he knew the answer was yes. For Noelle, he'd do whatever it took to try to stay alive.