To Love & Protect Her (3 page)

“We should have had her!” he shouted, slamming his fist onto the counter. The jars and boxes on top of the counter jumped, and so did Betsy. “One more minute, and we would have had her.”

“We can try again, Clint,” Betsy said, her voice placating.

“When?” He turned on her, his eyes blazing. “When will we get another chance? That meddling son of a bitch Ryan Fortune is going to make sure we can't get close to Willa again. He'll swoop her up and bring her to the Double Crown Ranch, and that will be it. We can't take her from that ranch. Everyone there knows me. And since you started working at the ranch house they know you, too.”

“Maybe there's something we can do,” she said nervously, pleating the fabric of her dress with shaking fingers. Clint was frightening her. He'd lost his temper before, but this time there was a glaze of mad
ness in his eyes. She prayed he wouldn't turn his rage against her.

“What can we do?” Clint's voice dripped with scorn. “Should I call her on the phone and ask her to meet us somewhere by herself? That snooty, stuck-up college professor is too smart for that.” He kicked over a table and sent a lamp crashing into a wall. “She won't be so stuck-up once I get my hands on her.”

Fear filled Betsy's mouth with a sour taste as she edged away from Clint. My God, what was wrong with him? Willa Simms had never harmed him, or her, either. In fact, Willa had always been pleasant to her, and very kind.

“Why are you so angry with Willa?” she asked, her voice tentative.

“Because she has what I should have,” he shouted at her, his eyes full of rage. “She has free run of the Double Crown. Ryan Fortune gives her anything she wants. That should be
my
ranch. And it would be, too, if Ryan's father hadn't swindled my dad into selling our neighboring ranch to him. I should've inherited the ranch from my father.
I
should be the one in charge. Everyone should kowtow to
me.
I should be the one with all the money. And I will be. I'll get the ranch in the end. We'll see who's smarter, me or Ryan Fortune. He thought he was so smart trying to frame me for Sophia's murder, but I'll show him.”

“I know you'll win,” Betsy said. She had to soothe him somehow. “You're smarter than Ryan Fortune. Anyone can see that.”

“That's right,” he said, seeming to calm down at her words. “At least you believe in me, Betsy.”

“You know I do, Clint.” She licked her lips and watched him carefully. The madness seemed to be fading from his eyes. “You wouldn't really hurt Willa, would you?”

A crafty look came into his eyes. “Now, why would I want to do that? That would be like killing the goose that laid the golden egg, wouldn't it?”

“I knew you were a smart one, Clint. I knew it right away.”

Betsy told herself she should be relieved, but fear ate away at her gut. Clint was getting more impatient, more angry every day. And he'd raged at her during the entire trip back from College Station.

“That's right, Betsy. I'm smart enough to figure this out.” His mouth twisted again, and once more madness shone out of his eyes. “And who was that man at her apartment who chased us, anyway? Do you know?”

“N-no, Clint, I don't.” He'd looked familiar, but she'd been trying to get away and hadn't taken a good look. “He must have been intending to visit someone in the apartment.”

Clint's eyes darkened. “I'll teach him to meddle.”

“He's probably long gone,” Betsy said, watching Clint, the fear roiling inside her. Had Clint gone completely mad? “We won't have to worry about him the next time.”

But her words only seemed to infuriate him. “Next
time?” he screamed. “Next time? How can there be a next time? We should have had her
tonight.
”

“Maybe she's at the ranch already.” Betsy clutched the fabric of her dress more tightly. She was terribly afraid of what Clint would do to Willa. But she was more afraid of what he would do to her. So she took a breath and said, “If she's at the ranch, I'll get her to come with me. She'd have no reason to be afraid of me. I'll bring her to you.”

“What if she's not at the ranch?” Clint asked. Now his eyes looked calculating.

“I'll stick close to Ryan's office,” she said, desperate to find some way of appeasing Clint. “She's bound to get in touch with him. I'll listen whenever he gets a phone call. I'll get the information for you. Haven't I always done what you wanted me to do?”

He smiled at her, but there was no warmth in his face, and Betsy shivered. “Yeah, you've always done what I wanted you to do, Betsy. And I won't forget it.”

He grabbed his coat from the door and stepped outside. “I need to think for a while. You figure out how you're going to get that information for me.”

Clint slammed the door, and the trailer shook for a moment. Betsy slumped against the couch, staring at the door, as tears slowly trickled down her face.
How did everything go so wrong?
she cried to herself. She'd had such glorious dreams of a wonderful life with Clint. Now they were as old and dusty as the dirt of the Double Crown Ranch. And as unattainable.

 

She had to put Griff out of her mind, Willa told herself as they bumped along the rutted dirt trail that was supposed to lead to the cabin. The disturbing feelings he roused in her were nothing more than her hormones reacting to an attractive man. Griff wouldn't be interested in a woman like her, a woman who wasn't exciting or glamorous or sophisticated.

She stared out the window, trying to find something else to think about. “The trees along this road to the house are beautiful,” she said in a low voice, desperate for an innocuous topic to discuss.

“They're a problem.” Griff sounded worried.

She couldn't stop herself from looking over at him. “What do you mean, ‘they're a problem'?”

“Too much cover.” His face was hard. “Anyone could sneak up on the cabin along this road, and we wouldn't be able to see them until they were at the door.”

“Who's going to come to the cabin, Griff?” she asked. “No one but Ryan knows we're here.”

He glanced over at her, and she thought his eyes softened a little. “Remember what you said about thinking three steps ahead? That's what I'm trying to do.”

“But it's so quiet up here. Surely we would hear anyone driving up the road.”

“I hope so.” He glanced out the window again. “Damn trees. I don't know why you Americans are so nuts about trees.”

“Don't you have trees in Australia?” she asked, trying to keep the laughter from her voice.

“We have plenty of trees,” he muttered. “We just don't put them where they don't need to be.” When he glanced over at her and saw her smiling, he smiled reluctantly. “We don't have a lot of trees on the Crown Peak Ranch. It's mostly pasture and red dirt. And don't mind me. I'm just worrying out loud.”

“I think the trees along the road are beautiful.”

He scowled again. “Yeah, they're magnificent.”

She turned to look out the window again, her smile fading. Griff took his job very seriously. And she was grateful that he did. She needed to keep that in mind.

“Is your family's Crown Peak Ranch in Australia a lot different than the Double Crown Ranch?” she asked.

“Actually, it's quite similar to the Double Crown,” he answered. “Which isn't too surprising, I guess, considering that my father Teddy and Ryan are half brothers.”

“Ryan was so excited when he found Teddy.” Willa smiled, remembering her godfather's delight. “And he was thrilled that you and Matilda and Reed and Brody could spend this time with him.”

“My father was happy about it, too,” Griff said. “He'd always wondered about his family.”

As they talked, the truck emerged from the last of the trees to a small clearing surrounded by more trees. The mountain rose sharply behind the cabin, but the trees and the rock behind them gave the small clearing a cozy, secluded feel.

The cabin itself was made of weathered logs that blended into the rustic setting. There was a porch that
ran the length of the front of the cabin, and a pile of firewood was stacked along one side.

“Let's leave the car here for now, and take a look around,” Griff said.

Willa stepped out of the car, and realized that there was a chill to the air. “I had forgotten we'd be in the mountains,” she said, pulling Griff's jacket more tightly around herself. Then she looked over at him and realized that he was in his shirtsleeves. He didn't seem to react. He stood measuring the cabin with his eyes, examining the area around it.

Willa reached into the truck and grabbed her wool coat. It was still a little damp from the night before, but she took off Griff's jacket and slipped on her own. She missed the battered jacket immediately. It had smelled and felt like Griff.

“Here, Griff,” she said. “It's too cold to stand there without your jacket.”

He glanced over at her, and she saw concern flash in his eyes. “Why did you put that coat on? It's still wet.”

“It's fine.” She thrust his jacket at him, ignoring the feeling of loss. “We're just going into the house, aren't we?”

He took his jacket absently and slipped it on, still studying the area. He was silent for so long that Willa moved closer to him.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He looked over at her as if she'd startled him. “Wrong? No, it looks fine.”

“You've been staring at the cabin as if you expected it to turn on you.”

He gave her a smile and took her hand. “I was just running scenarios in my head. Let's take a look at the back.”

It was only a casual gesture, she told herself as he led her around to the back of the cabin. There was no reason for her heart to race in her chest and for her lungs to feel like they were going to explode. Griff was merely trying to shepherd her along, and taking her hand was the quickest way to do it.

But her hand felt so right in his. She wanted to twine their fingers together, to press her palm against his and feel her heart stutter in response.

She'd better get a grip, she told herself harshly. She didn't want to make a fool of herself, or embarrass him. So she forced herself to ignore the feel of his hand on hers, and concentrate on the cabin that would be their home for a while.

There was a small shed at the rear of the cabin, and Griff opened the door. Tools and ladders lined the walls, and there was a space large enough to hold their truck. Otherwise, the shed was empty. Griff shut the door, and they kept walking.

The trees that surrounded the cabin seemed to press in from the back. Griff dropped her hand as he moved into the thicket of woods, and she could almost read his mind. The trees were too close to the house. They could provide too much cover for someone intent on surprising them. Willa shoved her hands into her pockets and shivered. The feelings Griff aroused in
her made it too easy to forget the real reason they were at this cabin.

“I don't like this,” he said, and she saw the concern in his eyes. “These trees are far too close to the building. But there's nothing we can do about it. I'll rig up an alarm system for these windows at the rear of the cabin. That will help.”

“I guess no one thought of this cabin as a hideout from kidnappers,” Willa said, trying to keep the snap out of her voice. She was grateful they had a refuge like this cabin.

Griff gave her a quick smile. “The trees can't be helped. But we can fix the problem. Let's go inside.”

Willa expected to find a very basic, rustic living space. She was surprised at the comfortable, homey atmosphere inside the cabin. Rugged, oversize furniture was grouped around a magnificent stone fireplace that soared up two stories to an exposed-beam ceiling. There were carpets on the hardwood floors, and pictures and Native American rugs on the walls. The kitchen was small but functional. A table and chairs stood between the kitchen and the living area.

There was one bedroom off the living area. A combination of fear and excitement stirred as she looked inside at the one huge bed it held.

“It's all right,” Griff said behind her. “Ryan told me there's another bed in the loft.” He nodded to the loft area above the bedroom. “You take the bedroom, and I'll take the loft.”

Willa was amazed at the disappointment that snaked through her at Griff's words. As soon as she
realized she'd been hoping this would be the only bed in the cabin, she was horrified with herself. Backing out of the room, she said breathlessly, “I'll get the bags from your truck.”

“Let me help you.”

Griff led the way back out to the truck. It took several trips, but they finally got all the bags of food and supplies into the cabin. Griff drove the truck around the back to put it in the shed, and Willa started to put away the food.

She'd better settle down, she told herself. She and Griff were going to be in this cabin, alone, for God knew how long. If she didn't want to make a complete fool of herself, she'd better remember that Griff was just doing this as a favor to Ryan Fortune. He'd made that clear enough.

Griff came back into the cabin a few minutes later, and carefully locked the door behind him. Then he went over and examined the window in the main room. Willa watched as his fingers traced the frame lightly, brushing over the wood and lingering over the locks. Before she could stop herself, she was imagining Griff's hands on her, exploring her as thoroughly as he explored the window.

Making a disgusted noise under her breath, she turned her back and jerked open another cabinet. But putting the food away couldn't stop her from being aware of Griff in the cabin. She knew instantly when he moved away from the main room and walked into the bedroom.

She refused to allow herself to turn and look at him.
Instead, she called out, “What's the verdict on the security?” She hoped he could hear nothing in her voice aside from friendly concern.