She was none of his business. He had plenty on his plate without adding Marley and Braden to the menu.

But that hadn’t stopped Wyatt from lying awake in his childhood bedroom last night pondering the situation and the story she’d told. The family had been curious about her too. Sympathetic, mostly, because she’d lost her job and her home. They’d taken her at face value, liked her, been charmed by the pleasant little boy. Nobody, except him, had noticed anything out of sync.

Unlike him, his family didn’t have suspicious minds. They weren’t trained to look for subterfuge everywhere. His skepticism was both a useful tool and a burden, guaranteed to kill relationships.

Which had nothing to do with Marley. He barely knew her.

But something about her got to him, and he couldn’t deny that he was both interested and puzzled.

“We gonna pull this car out or stand here in the woods and freeze?” Ace’s voice yanked Wyatt from his thoughts.

Like him, his older brother was an early riser, so they’d loaded up and headed to Marley’s stuck car. Dawn had barely broken over the bare-limbed woods in a pathetic attempt at daylight. Not much color to the world this morning, only a single streak of bright fire along the horizon below the dull, winter grays.

Wyatt breathed out a puff of vapor and lifted a hand toward the big truck parked in front of Marley’s much smaller Chevy. He climbed inside the Cruze, taking a minute to adjust the seat for his cramped legs. He wasn’t all that tall, not like his brothers, but Marley was shorter. Smaller. Curvy. Feminine in a down-to-earth kind of way. A woman.

Her car’s interior didn’t smell womanly, though. It smelled like fast food and peanut butter. Little boy smells. He smiled to think of Braden’s hug last night. It had gotten to him, given him a tug, warmed him up.

Across the passenger’s seat lay a throw blanket, one of those super soft kind, brightly printed with toy cars. He touched it. Yes. Super soft. Exactly right for a boy to snuggle into on a chilly winter’s night. Which brought him back to the question. What were they really doing out here?

He could dig into her life and find out. He had the tools, the know-how. But should he? Was it ethical? Probably not.

He cranked the engine and let it purr for a few seconds while he adjusted the heater.

He and Ace were confident the ranch’s massive diesel used to haul cattle to market without a groan could handle a compact car. Neither wanted to ride a tractor this far for a job this simple.

Up ahead, Ace dropped a hand out the truck’s window. Wyatt did the same, flipping his fingers forward. They’d done their due diligence to be certain the car could be brought up with minimal damage to the undercarriage. With Christmas coming, a single woman didn’t need to encounter repair bills, especially a jobless woman.

Single mom. Alone. Where was Braden’s father? Was he the reason she’d been hiding out in the Sanctuary? Was the ex after the boy? Or the woman? Or both?

The diesel revved up, rumbled, and began a slow, easy crawl forward. Something beneath the chassis scraped, groaned.

Wyatt winced. “Come on, baby.”

The diesel ramped up.

The little car took one hop, like a deer leaping a fence, and was out of the ravine. Ace felt the change and stopped the diesel. Wyatt braked, put it in park, and stepped out. His brother did the same, meeting him at the rear of the Chevy.

They were country boys, ranchers. They’d been stuck more times than they could count, pulled out even more and knew the rhythm and routine.

Dead grass stuck out from the tire rims. Dirt caked on the bumper, clods falling in soft plops. Exhaust tainted the air, circling over the trunk to the two men’s nostrils.

Wyatt went to the hard ground onto his back, sliding under the car far enough to check for damage. Ace bent at the waist, inspecting the tailpipe.

Wyatt inch-wormed out and stood, dusting down his fatigues. “Looks fine.”

“Same here. I knocked a little more dirt out of the pipe. Looks like she’s good to go.”

Go where? That was the question plaguing Wyatt this morning. She’d lied about the relatives in Oklahoma City, so where were she and her son headed now?

Wyatt jerked a nod toward his brother and stepped back to the Chevy’s driver side. Ace stopped him with a hand.

“Something eating you?”

Yeah. More than you ever want to know.

“The only eating I have in mind right now is at Connie’s breakfast table. She mentioned something last night about pumpkin pecan pancakes.”

Ace laughed. “I hear that.”

---

For the first time in three mornings, Marley awoke without a crick in her neck or back. And she wasn’t cold.

Braden curled next to her, sleeping, his still baby-round face peaceful and relaxed, brown eyelashes curled along his cheekbones.

She took a minute to observe him, the love rising up like yeast bread in a warm kitchen. She wanted the world for her son, and yet, here they were like beggars, afraid to return home, uncertain of what today would bring.

Her thoughts flashed to Wyatt Caldwell and the surge of energy his promise last night had produced. You’re safe here. You have my word. She wanted desperately to believe him, this kind stranger with the soul-piercing eyes.

If not for him and his family, she didn’t know what might have happened last night. The kindness of strangers in a giant, welcoming house. But it wasn’t only the succor of the Triple C. It was the people. All of them, so open-hearted. Would they contact the local authorities if they knew?

Taking care not to disturb her sleeping prince, Marley slid from beneath the cozy covers to the hardwood. Last night’s shower had been such a luxurious delight, she took another before getting dressed in clean clothes. A hot shower did wonders for the psyche, and she stepped out, renewed for another day of searching for answers. Of cyber stalking people she’d thought were her friends. But one of them wasn’t.

Hairbrush in hand to wrangle her damp curls, Marley tugged aside the bedroom curtain and looked outside. Cowboys in thick jackets moved in and out of a barn a few dozen yards away, silvery breath visible on the air. A tractor exited the barn, puffing exhaust, a round hay bale protruding from the back by some sort of giant spike.

Active day on a big ranch.

Braden stirred, and she turned to look at him. He slept peacefully, secure in her love, confident that mommy would take care of him. And she would.

Somehow.

She turned back to the window and watched the stir of cowboys, animals, and machinery. She’d never thought of ranch life as important before. Yet, here food was produced that would provide for more people than she could fathom.

She let the curtain drop and mulled her next steps.

Now that she was rested, the world looked brighter, better. She’d emailed the tips to the police. They couldn’t reply, but perhaps the online news would carry a report. If not, she’d keep digging, keep sending every piece of information relevant to the investigation, and she’d continue to search the flash drive.

Braden still slept. Marley wanted him to rest as long as he needed. There were two bedrooms in this guest house, but he’d clung to her last night. Given the crazy day they’d had, she understood her usually confident son’s anxiety and had snuggled with him, telling him happy stories until he’d fallen asleep.

Though she’d had so much on her mind, she’d slept too. Immediately and well.

You’re safe here.

And she’d felt safe. So safe that she wished she could hide here forever.

Traversing the very short hall between the bedrooms and living space, Marley entered the combined living-kitchen area. Last night, she’d been too tired to pay much attention, but the cottage, while small, was modern and efficient. A pod-type coffee maker awaited her on a short counter. She turned on the device and waited for the water to heat and the brew light to turn on.

As she pushed the brew button, someone tapped on the door.

She touched her wet hair. Caught herself, scoffed at the idea of looking pretty for a man, and went to answer.

In the doorway stood a stern warrior, all soldier, in fatigues and combat boots, a military ball cap on his head. The cap shaded his face, set him in mystery.

Without warning, attraction flared. Her nerve endings buzzed. Wyatt Caldwell was one appealing man. Hero. Rescuer. Saver of foolish women lost in the woods.

“Good morning,” he said. “Did I wake you?”

“I’m up, but Braden isn’t. If it’s okay, I’ll let him sleep longer.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Because I like you too much, and under circumstances, that’s not good. “I need to get my car out of the ditch and get on the road.”

He shifted, hesitated. “Where you headed?”

Who knows? Rather than lie, she stepped to one side. “Would you like to come in?”

He brushed off the invitation. “I only came to tell you to take your time. When the two of you are ready, Connie saved breakfast. Or you can have lunch. Your choice.”

Marley blinked. Lunch? “What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

“No way!” Heat flushed through her. She hadn’t slept this late in…forever. “I’m so sorry. I’ve held you up. You have things to do. I should wake Braden and go.”

Her hands fluttered around her like butterflies she couldn’t quite catch.

Wyatt caught them for her, stepped her backwards into the interior of the guest house and out of the cold air. He kicked the door shut behind him.

His touch, a simple grip of fingertips on skin, sent a bolt of lightning up her arms. Her heart quivered like a rabbit’s against her collarbone. Oh my.

“Hey.” His voice was soft but commanding. “No rush. Stay as long as you want. A few days if you like. Connie’s orders. She has this thing about entertaining angels.”

She was tempted. Oh, how she was tempted. But she was no angel. “My car.”

“Is parked beside the guest house.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

She stopped fluttering and met his intense gaze. The tingle came again, stronger this time. “You got it unstuck?”

Wyatt dropped his hand and moved, putting some space between them as if he, too, felt the electric crackle. “No damage.”

“I don’t know how to repay you.”

He dipped his chin toward the kitchen. “I smell coffee. That’ll work.”

Who was she to argue? He probably didn’t even want coffee, but he was just so nice.

She led the way across the small space, acutely aware of him behind her. Aware that she liked him. And she thought he liked her too. Aware that she wanted to blurt out the truth and plead for his help.

Don’t be foolish, Marley. There’s too much at stake. Braden is at stake. Involving Wyatt could cause him trouble and force him to make choices he shouldn’t have to make.

The need for a friend flooded faster than a delta. She fought it back. Involving anyone else was wrong. If she liked Wyatt—and she did—she wouldn’t entangle him in her mess. She was in this alone.

After removing the cup on the brewer, she handed it to the very still soldier and started another. Her fingers shook, though he didn’t seem to notice.

In seconds, they were both sipping in the silent kitchen. The friendly clatters and motor noises outside sounded far away.

Marley cast about for something to say and landed on the obvious. The military. The ranch. Braden. The horse he’d ridden yesterday. Anything to avoid the real problem.

They talked a while, though she discovered Wyatt was more of a listener than a talker. And a watcher. He seemed to be analyzing everything she said.

Maybe he was.

Or maybe she was being paranoid again. Unexpectedly becoming a fugitive would do that to a person.

When a sleepy-eyed Braden stumbled out of the bedroom, Marley put her empty cup in the sink and sat down at the small four-chair table for her morning hug.

“We slept a long time,” Marley murmured against his neck. He smelled of warm sleep and little boy. “I feel better. Do you?”

He nodded. “I wish we could stay forever. It’s not scary here.”

Not like in the woods. That’s what he’d meant. She slid her eyes toward Wyatt. He leveled her with that steady look again, the questions simmering below the surface.

Marley rubbed a hand over Braden’s cowlick and side-stepped. “I bet you’re hungry.”

“Can we have nuggets?”

Wyatt spoke up. “Might be something just as good at my house. What do you say? You, me, lunch?”

“Mommy, too?”

Wyatt gave her a look, caused a flutter. “Absolutely.”

Braden seemed to consider and come to a quick conclusion. “Okay. We’ll get nuggets later.”

He dashed back into the bedroom, and the soldier-man, as Braden insisted on calling Wyatt, prepared to leave.

“Come through the back door when you’re ready,” he said. “No need to knock.”

“We really shouldn’t stay any longer, Wyatt. We’ve imposed enough.”

“The boy needs to eat, and I can guarantee Connie will have something he likes.”

Braden, naturally. Her Achilles heel. Again. Truth was, they had nowhere else to go, and she selfishly wanted a few more minutes with the soldier man. “What time is lunch?”

“High noon.” He leaned on the door-facing, arms crossed over a muscled chest.

“Sounds like a bad western.” Was she flirting? Was he?

His lips hiked up on the edges, almost pretty on such a manly face. “No gun fights, I promise. We’re all law-abiding citizens.”

All except one of us.