After I’d cried for another minute, I pulled myself back together and drove home. Muffy greeted me at the front door, but she released a little whimper as she smelled my legs. Could she smell Mason? Could she sense my sadness?

I let her out and left the door cracked for her to come back in before I headed upstairs. I was worried about what I’d find in the guest bedroom, and I didn’t want her to be stuck outside if it took a while to set things to rights with my houseguest.

“Marshall?” I called out as I topped the stairs.

He didn’t answer.

Terrified, I entered the guest room. He was in bed, but blood was streaked clear across the wood floor.

He turned his head to face me, looking paler than before. Sweat beaded on his forehead and upper lip. His bandage was soaked, and blood had dripped down his leg to the sheets beneath him.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” he said, his voice weak.

“Don’t you worry about that,” I said, trying to keep my tone light as I tried to figure out where best to start. The most worrisome issue seemed to be his fever, so I grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in his mouth, then ran into the bathroom and grabbed some clean towels and several wet washrags.

The thermometer beeped as I entered the room, and I tried not to freak out when I read the number: 102.5.

I’d intended to use the washrags to clean up the blood, but I folded one and put it on his forehead and the other on his throat. “We’ve got to cool you down.”

Rather than protest, he sank back into the pillows and closed his eyes.

“When was the last time you took any ibuprofen?” I asked.

“About an hour ago,” was his weak reply.

Crap. “What about your antibiotic?”

“I already took two.”

“I got you a new one. This one’s stronger than penicillin.” I unscrewed the cap of the medication bottle and handed him a pill along with the nearly empty cup of water. “Take this.”

He swallowed it and finished off the water. “Sorry I’m so much trouble.”

“We’ll discuss that later,” I said, pulling off his bandage to look at his stitches. “The good news is you didn’t bust your stitches. Small miracle indeed. What were you doin’ out of bed?”

“I had to pee,” he said with a sheepish look.

We had left him in bed for a long time. “Sorry. I should have come to check on you sooner.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he said hastily.

That ship had sailed, but I didn’t see any reason to point it out. “Hopefully this antibiotic will kick in and you’ll be back to yourself in no time. Do you know what you’ll do then?”

“No.”

“Did you have anything to do with the pawn shop robbery?” I asked, deciding to just come out with it.

He tried to hide his reaction, but I saw the fear flash in his eyes before his lips pressed into a thin line.

I put a hand on my hip. “If you’re gonna stay, then I need to know why you’re hidin’ out here.”

He still didn’t say anything.

I thought about threatening him, but his face was flushed from fever. Now was not the time. “I’ll let it go for the time being, but if you don’t tell me by tomorrow morning, I’ll call the sheriff’s department to come pick you up.”

Fear flickered in his eyes again, but he kept his mouth shut.

I pushed out a sigh. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll bring you up something to eat. Then I’ll clean the floor.”

I headed downstairs and let Muffy in before I went into the kitchen and fixed my houseguest the last of the meatloaf and mashed potatoes. When I got back upstairs, Marshall was dozing, so I set the plate on the bedside table. I was taken aback by how young and innocent he looked. This was no hardened criminal. He struck me as a kid who’d gotten in over his head.

A kid who came to me because he had nowhere else to go.

“What am I gonna do about you, Marshall Billings?” I murmured under my breath. Surely his family was looking for him. I considered digging deeper to find his address and reach out to his family. But if the people who’d shot him were watching them, they might trace him back to me. For now, I’d wait. Tomorrow I’d need to press him for answers, but I was going to make sure he was protected. I wouldn’t let the same fate that fell on Jeanne happen to Marshall.

I headed downstairs to the kitchen to get something for dinner. I’d clean up the floor later. In the meantime, I was alone again, and now my mind had even more to mull over.

Mason.

Thinking back on my conversation with him, I knew I could have handled it better. Fewer tears and more backbone, and that made me angry with myself. Why had I reacted so badly? Did I still love him? Was it even possible to love two men at once?

After I fixed a plate, I went into the living room and turned on the TV, loaded up Netflix, and lost myself in a movie. I could think about Mason later. But the exhaustion from lack of sleep and crying caught up with me, and I found myself dozing on the sofa with Muffy snuggled up to me.

My dog’s low growl was the first sign of trouble.

I roused and brushed my hand along her back, thinking she’d seen a squirrel out the window, but I quickly realized the movie was over and it was dark outside.

At the sound of truck engines—multiple engines—I jerked upright, jumped to my feet, and ran upstairs to Neely Kate’s bedroom to get a look at the front yard through the sheer curtains covering her windows. Two pickup trucks were barreling toward the house from the county road. They started honking their horns and driving in circles, kicking up dirt and grass.

I called Neely Kate, hoping she’d answer, but Jed answered instead. “Rose. What’s goin’ on?”

“Someone’s here.”

“Who’s there?” he asked in a hard tone.

My heart leapt into my throat as I raced to my bedroom. After putting Jed on speakerphone, I tossed the phone onto my bed and started digging through the closet. “I promised James I’d call him if I was in trouble, but there’s no time. Make sure he knows, okay? I don’t want him to think I fell back on my promise.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

I found the box of casings, opened the shotgun, and began loading the chamber. “There are two pickup trucks carrying guys with shotguns circling my front yard.”

After snatching up the gun, the casings, and the phone, I hurried out of my room and poked my head into Marshall’s and found him wide-eyed and terrified. “You stay in this room no matter what. You got it?”

“Who are you talkin’ to?” Jed demanded.

“I thought you said no guns were allowed in your house,” Marshall said as he eyed my gun.

“That applies to everyone who doesn’t live here,” I said before bolting for the stairs.

“Rose,” Jed growled. “What the hell is goin’ on?”

I ran down the stairs, calling out, “Muffy?” in an undertone. She didn’t answer, and I prayed she was hiding in the kitchen and hadn’t figured out a way outside. Though hiding wasn’t exactly her style.

I dropped the box of shotgun shells on the coffee table and moved to the window. Several men had fanned out across my yard.

“Lady in Black!” a man shouted from the front yard. “You have something we want, and we’re here to collect it.”

I took a deep breath, my heart beating so hard I was sure it was about to fly out of my chest. “Jed—”

“I heard him. What do you have?” he asked as calm as could be.

“Now’s not the time to discuss it.” I glanced around for Muffy but still didn’t see her anywhere. She hadn’t followed me upstairs.

“Do you know who’s at your front door?”

“I haven’t gotten a good look at them yet, but if I had to guess, I’d say they belong to Kip Wagner.”

“Wagner?” Then he cursed a blue streak. “Does this have anything to do with the pawn shop robbery?”

“How would I know?” But I knew I didn’t sound all that convincing.

“You are the most damned stubborn . . .” His voice trailed off. “You go into your basement and lock the door. Use the bolt I installed.”

After I was kidnapped a couple of weeks ago, Jed had made Neely Kate and me a sort of panic room in the basement. He’d installed brackets to hold two two-by-fours to reinforce the door to a small room my father had used as a dark room.

“I can’t find Muffy,” I said. “I don’t know where she went, but she was the one who alerted me to the trucks.” I glanced around again and called out her name in a low voice. No answer.

“She’s a smart dog,” Jed said. “She’ll hide, and you need to do the same. I’m already on my way.”

“I suspect you’re a good twenty minutes out, Jed.” What if they came in and snatched Marshall—and me—before he got here?

“I can be there in fifteen.” Then he hung up.

As I stuffed my phone into my pocket, I kicked myself for not telling him more, but it was too late now. I backed up into the kitchen, taking a peek at Muffy’s dog bed in the corner.

Empty. Where was she?

“Lady, I ain’t got all day,” the man shouted from the front of the house, and I recognized the voice this time.

It was Kip Wagner. That just plain pissed me off, and my anger burned through my fear. If I cowered behind this door, I’d look like a scared little girl. I was the freaking Lady in Black, and damned if I was gonna let him treat me with disrespect in my own yard. Damned if I was going to let him kill Marshall either.

Cocking the shotgun, I marched up to the front door and opened it with my foot, using more force than I’d intended. The door slammed into the wall, startling a few of the waiting men. I strode onto the front porch with the shotgun lifted under my arm and trained directly on Kip Wagner.

“Mr. Wagner,” I called out in contempt I didn’t need to feign. “I see you didn’t learn your lesson about respect a month ago.”

“You can parade around in your dresses and your hats,” he said with a sneer, “but we all know you’re just a little girl playin’ dress-up. And this time you don’t have Malcolm or Carlisle backin’ you up.”

I lifted the gun higher and trained it on his crotch. “Does it look like I’m playing dress-up now?”

I heard the shifting of a half dozen weapons. My heart was lodged in my throat, but I knew I couldn’t show any kind of weakness. If I did, this would all be over for me and Marshall.

Wagner held both hands out to his sides, taking his aim off me, and said in a cajoling tone, “Just send out the guy, and we’ll be on our way.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Wagner. My farm is neutral, and you’re breaking the rules by bein’ here.”

“Rules? What rules?”

“Let me spell them out for you—I’m neutral. My land is neutral. If someone comes to me seeking sanctuary and I choose to grant it to them, they get it.”

He laughed. “So Malcolm’s protecting him. Why?”

“Malcolm doesn’t know he’s here. He has no idea I have him.”

Kip Wagner’s eyes lit up with possibilities. I knew it might have been foolish of me to admit it, but I had to prove I wasn’t James’ puppet.

“Before you go thinkin’ you can just shoot me and be on your way, Malcolm knows you’re currently on my property, and so does Dermot,” I lied, figuring they would both find out soon enough from Jed. “They’ve both recognized my neutrality and will destroy you if you so much as touch me.”

Indecision wavered on his face. Then he said, “Fine. You can keep the kid, but I need the file.”

“I don’t know anything about a file.”

“The damn file they stole out of my safe. Just hand over the file, and no one needs to get hurt.” Then he grinned. “Well, any more hurt.”

“I don’t know anything about a file,” I repeated. “But if I come into possession of it, and you can prove it’s yours, I’ll be happy to return it.”

He cursed, then aimed his gun at me. “You lyin’ bitch!”

I curled my finger around the trigger of my own weapon. “I’ve become a pretty good shot, Mr. Wagner. Neely Kate makes me practice for an hour every day. Guess what her favorite target is?” When he remained silent, I said, “I hear a man can live if his testicles get shot off. I guess it stands to reason. Bulls get castrated and do just fine.” I shot him an evil grin. “And you always did remind me of a bull, so I’m sure you’d be just fine too . . . if you can learn to overlook the fact that I castrated you.”

He growled, and his face turned beet red.

“Now here’s what we’re gonna do,” I said. “Your men are going to lower their guns and get back into their trucks. When I give the word, you’re gonna do the same, and then all y’all are gonna get off my land. Have I made myself clear?”

“She’s bluffin’,” one of his men sneered.

“Are you willing to take that chance?” I asked, still aiming at Kip Wagner’s crotch. “Because I assure you that your boss will live, and I suspect he’s going to take his wrath out on the person who cost him his manhood. I suspect it won’t be pretty.”

No one else said anything.

“Okay, now that everyone knows the plan, I’m gonna give you five seconds to get in your trucks. One.” I paused. “Two.”

“Do what she said!” Wagner shouted, lifting his arms. “Go!”

“Three.”

His men lowered their guns and grumbled as they got back into their trucks, while Kip Wagner stood his ground and gave me a death stare.

“You can get in now,” I said. “Slowly. And while your family jewels might be shielded by the door, your head will not be, and that’s my next best shot.” I gave him another grin.

He cursed as he headed to the door.

“Today’s lesson is about trespassing,” I said, “but the next lesson will be about respect, Mr. Wagner, because if we’re going to have future interactions, you will treat me with respect or face the consequences.”

He got inside the passenger side of his truck, then shouted out the open window, “Don’t mistake me for Buck Reynolds. I ain’t treatin’ you like a princess.”

“I don’t need you to treat me like a princess,” I said. “I just need you to treat me with respect. It’s really not that difficult of a concept.”

“I’m gettin’ my file, one way or the other,” Wagner spat out, hatred simmering in his eyes. “And no one is standin’ in my way. You have twenty-four hours.” Then he banged on the side of the truck and they all took off, their horns blowing as they went. I realized I was in a vulnerable position—I’d lost my primary target, but I wasn’t about to go scampering into the house. Part of getting that respect was making them think I wasn’t scared of them . . . even when I was about to pee my pants.

As soon as the sound of their engines faded, I sank to the porch and began to shake.

Muffy shot out of the bushes and ran straight for my lap.

“How did you get out here?” I asked in dismay, shaking even more. “They could have shot you.” I held her close and tried to take slow, deep breaths, willing my heart to slow down. She reached up and licked my cheek while I rubbed behind her ears. “Thanks for the warning.”

I was still sitting there when I heard a car pulling onto the property, the headlights shutting off. I knew it was probably Jed, but I still set Muffy down and got to my feet, my shotgun ready if I needed it.

The dark sedan sped toward my house, spinning to the side as it came to a stop. The driver’s door opened within seconds, and my heart sank when I realized how wrong I’d been.

It wasn’t Jed, and now I would have hell to pay.

I was about to face James Malcolm’s fury.