Savior in the Saddle Read online

  Her breath stalled again. Mercy, she hadn’t braced herself nearly enough for any of this. “What kind of leak?”

  “The worst kind for us. A leak in communication. I don’t like the fact that SAPD’s intel told them that Shore wouldn’t attack you until tonight.”

  She thought about that a moment, and the conclusion she came to caused her heart rate to spike. “You think someone tipped Shore off?”

  Brandon shrugged. “I don’t want to believe it, but I also don’t want to put blind trust in people I don’t really know.”

  Neither did she. “You don’t think Bo Duggan could have done this?”

  “Not him. But I don’t know how many people in SAPD had access to the information about Shore.” He made a sweeping glance around the room. “Or this place.”

  That didn’t steady her heart. Willa slid her hand over her stomach. “So, what should we do?”

  Brandon didn’t answer immediately, and his forehead bunched up. “My friend sent me several portable security cameras and a monitor. I want to set the cameras up here, inside, but I want us to sleep in the car in the garage.”

  She instantly thought of the grenade that Shore had tossed into her rental. “Shore could try to blow us up again.”

  Brandon nodded. “He could. But I’ll keep watch on the monitor. And the cameras are motion-activated and will sound if they’re triggered. If anyone approaches the house, I can drive us out of here.” He reached out, touched her arm and rubbed gently. “This is just a precaution, Willa.”

  He added the last part as if he expected her to challenge him, but Willa had no intentions of doing that.

  She nodded. “I need to go to the bathroom, but once you have the camera set up, we can go back to the car.”

  It wouldn’t be comfortable, but she still might be able to sleep there. Her fatigue was past the bone-weary stage, and she had no choice but to rest.

  Willa took her toiletries from her bag so she could brush her teeth and take her prenatal vitamin. She also used the bathroom and hoped she wouldn’t have to make too many treks back into the house because of her pregnancy bladder.

  When she came back into the living room, Brandon had lowered all the blinds in the house and was setting up the tiny golf-ball-size camera in the front window. Since it was so small and white, it blended right into the window sill.

  “There’s a camera in the kitchen,” he explained, “and the front bedroom. I’ll put the other one just outside the garage door, and then I can monitor all of them with that.” He pointed to a GPS-looking device with four split screens.

  “We can take turns watching it,” she suggested.

  “No need. The monitor will beep if any of the cameras are triggered by motion. That means you can get some sleep. Think of the baby,” he added before Willa could argue.

  “I do, all the time,” she mumbled. “Do you?” She instantly regretted that question. Brandon had only recently found out he was going to be a father, and he probably hadn’t even come to terms with it yet. Added to that, he had the extra worry about keeping them safe.

  Willa waved off the question and reached for her bag.

  “I think about the baby,” he said, his words soft and slow. He took the bag from her, keeping his attention focused on it and not her.

  “It’s okay,” she assured him. “When the danger has passed, I don’t expect anything from you. In fact, I don’t want anything from you.”

  That was a semi-truth. Her body wanted him. For sex. How ironic. She hadn’t had as much of a sexual twinge since she’d gotten pregnant; yet near Brandon, in her last trimester no less, she kept feeling that tug deep within her.

  “Good.” And that was all he said for several moments. “Honestly, I’m not sure I can give you and this baby what you really need.”

  His eyes met hers for just a second, before he looked away and put the monitor in the equipment bag. He hoisted it over his other shoulder and headed for the garage door. Willa grabbed the pillow and cover that had been stacked on the sofa and followed him.

  This was good, she assured herself. Brandon didn’t want to be part of her or their baby’s life. That’s exactly the way she’d planned things. Heck, it was the reason she’d no doubt used artificial insemination. Because she hadn’t wanted a man in her life.

  So, why did his confession sting?

  She barely knew the man and, other than the fact he was almost certainly the biological father of her baby, that was the only thing that connected them.

  Well, except for the attraction.

  And the danger.

  And this entire bizarre connection she felt with him.

  Willa huffed. She was talking herself into falling hard for Brandon, and that could be a fatal mistake.

  Since the front seats of the car reclined, Willa got in on the passenger’s side and prepared a makeshift bed. Brandon eased the garage door open just a fraction and placed the camera outside. After closing it, he got behind the wheel and started his own preparations. Not for a bed, though, but for security. So that he wouldn’t lose them, he put the keys in the ignition, set up the monitor on the dashboard and placed the bags on the backseat.

  Willa turned, leaned over and retrieved the PDA from her bag. What she hadn’t counted on was Brandon moving at the same time. He turned to adjust his holster, and they practically collided.

  And then they froze.

  Breath met breath, and Willa got an instant reminder of that attraction. It suddenly raced through her. Hot and wild. As if her huge pregnant belly wasn’t a hindrance to anything sexual.

  Brandon made a sound, deep within his throat. A sort of rumbling. That sound stirred through her as well. So did his scent. Something manly and woodsy. That scent alerted every part of her body that hadn’t already been alerted.

  “This can’t happen,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  But the single word had hardly left his mouth when he dragged her to him and put his lips on hers. His scent had caused a jolt, but the kiss created an avalanche.

  Willa found herself sliding her arms around him and pulling him closer. She found herself deepening the kiss. And she found herself getting lost in the steamy maze of passion she immediately knew she couldn’t control. She was on fire, and her body was urging her to keep pulling him closer, to keep kissing him, to continue this insanity no matter the cost.

  If she’d thought his scent had her hormonal number, his taste was even more potent. That taste drew her in. And so did Brandon’s embrace. His kiss was gentle and left her with no doubts that it was exactly what she wanted.

  But shouldn’t have.

  Willa latched on to that thought and kept mentally repeating it. However, she wasn’t the one to stop the kiss. It was Brandon. He eased her away from him and glanced at the monitor.

  “I have to keep you safe,” he said with a lot of regret and heavy breath in his voice.

  Since safety was the main reason they were here in the car, Willa had no comeback for that. He did need to keep an eye on the monitor. He needed to protect her because that was the only way to keep her baby safe. Still, it was a battle to get herself to move away from him.

  Willa settled into the seat and tried to level her breathing. Her body was still on fire, but her brain just kept reminding her that she had done the right thing by stopping the makeout session—even if it felt wrong.

  “Are you sure we weren’t lovers?” she asked, trying to keep things light.

  “I’m sure.” There was no lightness in his voice. It was strained, just like his expression. The need was still in his intense brown eyes. But the corner of his mouth lifted. “Trust me, I would have remembered having sex with you.”

  Yes. And even with her amnesia, Willa thought she might have remembered, too. Brandon had a unique way of being unforgettable.

  Well, maybe.

  She glanced down at the PDA cupped in her hand and scrolled through the photos and information she’d stored there. She remembered ev
erything she’d recorded for the past two weeks. Prior to that, her memory was spotty and prior to that, there were huge gaps. Two weeks wasn’t nearly enough time for her to trust herself. So, Willa began making notes. About the attack from Martin Shore. About Brandon.

  About everything.

  She had to get everything down before she fell asleep, and that wouldn’t be long. Despite the fiery kiss and Brandon’s closeness, her body would soon have to rest.

  “The night can be the worst time for me,” she explained to Brandon as she continued to type. “Sometimes, when I wake up, everything in my memory is gone.”

  And she meant everything.

  He stayed quiet a moment. “What should I do if that happens?”

  “Run,” she joked. But then she shook her head. “I’ll be confused. I might even try to attack you because I won’t know who you are. But just remind me that your picture is in here.” She tapped her PDA.

  Brandon looked at it, then at her. His gaze lingered a moment on her face, and on a heavy breath, he turned back to the monitor.

  “Sleep,” he insisted.

  She nodded but didn’t close her eyes. Willa pulled the covers to her chin, snuggling them around her so she’d stay warm, but she fastened her attention to the monitor. Thanks to the four cameras, every angle of the house and attached garage were covered. Even in the darkness, they would be able to see someone approaching.

  Hopefully, it would stay that way, but Willa had a bad feeling that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

  BRANDON POPPED ANOTHER mint in his mouth and wished it were a big gulp of strong coffee. He needed a hit of caffeine badly, but he didn’t want to go back inside the house to see if there was any. That would mean either waking Willa or leaving her alone.

  He had no plans to do either.

  Since the monitor for the security cameras would alert him to any movement around the house, Brandon had managed a couple of catnaps, but with each one, the nightmares had come.

  He glanced at Willa who was sleeping soundly in the reclined seat. The covers had shifted, draping down below her left breast. Brandon eased the cover back in place. He noticed her PDA then. It had slipped from her hand and was now on the console between them.

  Was there something stored in the PDA that would help the cops stop another hostage situation? Maybe. Maybe it also contained something that would help Willa restore her memory. At least that was the justification he used when he read the first page entry.

  Your name is Willa Marks, and you have amnesia and post-concussional neurosis, also called short-term memory loss. Everything you need to know is on this PDA.

  There was a list of places where she had cash stored and her doctor’s phone number, followed by a list of rules. Well, two rules to be specific.

  Number one: don’t trust the cops.

  Number two: stay in hiding.

  Neither was a surprise. Twice Willa had nearly been killed when she’d trusted the cops. If their positions had been reversed, he might have written the same damn memos.

  He scrolled down farther to the next entry that Willa had labeled Latest Update.

  The man beside me is Sheriff Brandon Ruiz. My baby’s father. Use caution. He has secrets.

  “Secrets?” he mumbled. Yeah, he had them.

  Well, one anyway. But it was a secret that could affect everything.

  What the hell was he going to do about Willa and the baby?

  She needed help, all right. But she needed someone with less emotional baggage than he had. He certainly didn’t fit the bill.

  Frustrated with that and the lack of news about the case, Brandon took out his phone and sent a text message to Cash to see if there was an update. The moment he hit the send button, he heard the beep. It was so soft that it was barely audible, but it went through him as if it’d been a shout.

  Brandon’s gaze flew to the monitor. He checked the feed from all the cameras and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Well, not at first anyway. He moved closer to the screen, trying to pick through the pitchy darkness of the tiny images.

  There.

  Beneath the bedroom window.

  He spotted the man dressed head to toe in black. His movement had obviously triggered the perimeter security sensor. Brandon watched as the man lifted his hand and bashed something against the glass in the window.

  “Willa,” Brandon whispered. “We have to get out of here now.”

  Her eyes flew open, and she gave the seat a quick adjustment so she was in a sitting position. Her attention went straight to the monitor.

  “Is it Shore?” she asked.

  “I can’t tell.” But Brandon would put money on the fact that it was the assassin. If not, then it was someone equally dangerous.

  “Put on your seat belt,” Brandon instructed. He did the same. “And stay down. The second I open the garage door, I’m driving out of here fast.”

  That was a risk, of course, because Shore could shoot at them, but Brandon knew that was a risk he had to take—especially when he saw the man toss something through the broken bedroom window.

  Hell.

  It could be another grenade. And if it was, the explosion could easily destroy the garage, or at minimum, the damage from a blast could trap them inside.

  Brandon started the car and hit the remote opener clipped to the visor. It seemed to take way too long for the door to lift, and with each passing second, he prayed that Shore wouldn’t have time to make it to the front of the garage entrance so he could shoot at them head-on.

  As soon as Brandon had clearance to get out of the garage, he jammed his foot on the accelerator, and the car bolted out into the darkness.

  The shot came almost immediately and shattered the back windshield.

  “Stay down!” he reminded Willa, though he knew that might not be enough. Bullets could go through seats as easily as they could through glass.

  The sound of the second shot drowned out his repeated warning for her to stay down. The bullet tore through what was left of the safety glass, and the shooter quickly followed it up with a third and fourth shot. But that wasn’t all. Behind them, there was an explosion, and both the house and the garage burst into fireballs.

  Brandon didn’t dare risk looking at Willa to make sure she was okay because he had to focus on getting them away from the shooter.

  He headed for the road and glanced in the side mirror to see if the gunman was in pursuit. It was impossible to tell, but it was obvious the guy was still in shooting range because yet another bullet tore through the side of the car. Thank God the shots missed the tires or their chances of escape would drop significantly.

  The shots stopped, and Brandon continued to tear his way down the country road. He had to slow down to take a sharp curve, but as soon as he could, he sped up again.

  He saw the headlights then.

  They flared on behind them, and even though Brandon couldn’t see their attacker, he figured the guy had hidden his vehicle nearby. He’d probably killed the car lights so that they wouldn’t be alerted. The plan might have worked, too, if Brandon hadn’t suspected there might be an attack and set up those security cameras.

  Beside him, he could hear Willa’s heavy breathing, and from the corner of his eye, he could see that she had her hands splayed protectively over her belly.

  “He’s following us, isn’t he?” she asked. Her voice was raspy and thick.

  Brandon glanced in the side mirror and saw the headlights. The guy was definitely in pursuit. “Yeah,” he confirmed. “Hang on.”

  He took the next turn faster than he should have, and Brandon fought with the steering wheel to keep his vehicle on the road. He hated putting Willa through this, but there was no other choice. With Willa in the car, he couldn’t risk stopping to have a showdown with this SOB. Later though, he hoped he got the chance to beat this guy to dust.

  The anger roared through Brandon, and he could feel the dangerous energy course in his blood. With it, came the flashb
acks. Like the nightmares, they were always there, ready to rear their ugly heads. He pinned his attention to the road, to the curves, and forced the old demons to remain at bay.

  “Where are we going?” she asked. She levered herself up just a fraction to check her side mirror, but Brandon caught onto her shoulder and shoved her back down.

  “Once we get to the highway, I’ll drive toward San Antonio. Maybe I can lose him on the interstate and if not, maybe the traffic will get him to back off.”

  Both possibilities were long shots, but they were the only shots that Brandon had.

  “Should I call 9-1-1?” Willa asked. But she hadn’t said it eagerly, more as a last resort.

  It was a last resort they couldn’t risk.

  “No,” he answered. He could have sworn he heard her sigh with relief.

  He took another curve, then another, but the vehicle stayed behind them. Too close. And worse, it was gaining. The only good thing about their situation was that the driver wouldn’t be able to fire at them while trying to maintain the speed. Still, that didn’t mean they were safe.

  Brandon reached a straight stretch of the road and was able to go faster. So did the other car, and it closed in. The driver had on his high beams, making it hard for Brandon to see, but he could tell the vehicle was an SUV. It was much larger and faster than the car he was driving, so the SUV quickly ate up the distance between them.

  “Hold on,” Brandon warned Willa.

  Just as the SUV smashed into their rear bumper.

  Brandon fought to keep the car on the road, and he didn’t let up on the accelerator. He continued to race toward the highway. If his calculations were correct, that was less than a mile away.

  The SUV rammed into them again, and the jolt sent them both snapping in their seats. He bit back some profanity and prayed all this jostling around wouldn’t hurt the baby or Willa. While he was praying, he added that he could get them safely out of there.