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to curiosity, “you got this in an email? This is Natalie Valentine and her kids. She’s Jeremy Valentine’s widow, who owns the Cimarron Rose Bed-and-Breakfast. Why have you filed for divorce over Natalie Valentine?”

      Wide-eyed, Emily looked up at Tom and then glanced at the picture. “Jeremy Valentine?” she repeated, sounding dazed. “That’s his wife? You told me about his death.”

      “That’s right. I told you how he died on a mission and my promise to him to take care of his family if he didn’t make it back.”

      “I remember that,” Emily said, sounding stunned and confused. “She looked vaguely familiar, but I was in so much shock, I just didn’t put anything together.” She sagged against the car.

      “Jeremy was shot,” Tom reminded her. “We were on a mission in Iraq to rescue three hostages and Jeremy was shot twice. I promised him if he didn’t make it, I’d take care of his family,” Tom said, momentarily lost in remembering the battle, the blood, the noise of guns and men yelling. Tom looked at Emily, who had grown pale. Her eyes no longer held anger but uncertainty; he was sure she remembered him telling her about Jeremy’s death.

      “He was so worried about his family because he didn’t expect to make it. I told him I’d be there for them if he couldn’t.” Tom held out the picture. “This is Natalie, and she’s doing a great job being brave and upbeat and pouring herself into taking care of their two kids.”

      “Heavens, Tom,” Emily whispered, shaking her head. “Those kids are Jeremy Valentine’s? I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

      “Jeremy was their dad. They’re really sweet kids. Colby is four—just like our Ryan when we lost him. Colby has autism. He’s gotten accustomed to me and he’s pretty relaxed around me. Lexie is two and thinks she’s seventeen. She’s pretty and cute. I just try to help out, because there’s always something that needs fixing at the B and B. I try to be a man in the kids’ lives and do things around the place or with the kids that Jeremy would do. Jeremy was one of the best.”

      Emily focused on him with a piercing look. “Tom, have you slept with Natalie?”

      “Never,” he answered with a clear conscience. “That isn’t what this is about. I’m helping Natalie out, for Jeremy. That’s all there is to it. He was a buddy and he died for his country.” Tom gazed into Emily’s green eyes and wondered whether she believed him or not. “It would be a good idea if you two met. Natalie has a sweet family.”

      “Oh, Tom,” Emily said. She looked as if she’d been punched in the gut. Her shoulders sagged and she frowned. She ran her hand across her brow. “I’ve made a big mistake then,” she repeated.

      “I think you did,” he said quietly. “But not one that can’t be fixed.”

      Emily nodded. “I owe you an apology, because I believed this, even though it was so unlike you. The picture really shocked me.”

      “Forget that. We’ve got this ironed out between us now as far as I’m concerned, and I’ll arrange for you and Natalie to meet.”

      “You never told me about seeing them. If it was just to be a help and do this for Jeremy, why didn’t you tell me? I could have done some things for them, too.”

      He felt a ripple of impatience. “You haven’t been interested in anything I’ve done for a long time. We don’t keep up with each other any longer. I don’t know any more about what you’re doing than you know about what I’m doing. We’re out of each other’s lives now.” He looked down at the papers in his hand. “This divorce was inevitable.”

      Clamping her lips shut, she nodded. “That’s true. I can see why you didn’t tell me.” She frowned. “So this troll just sent the message to upset and hurt me,” Emily said quietly, as if more to herself than to Tom, but he heard her.

      “You got this from Maverick?”

      “Yes.”

      “Damnation,” Tom said, his temper rising as he thought about someone hiding behind a fictitious name, sending hateful messages to try to hurt Emily, who had already suffered the worst possible losses. He had failed Emily in the worst possible way before, but he wasn’t going to fail her this time. “There’s too much damn hate in this world and we don’t need this going on in Royal. Maverick.” He said the name with distaste. “Someone has hurt you once, but I damn well can see that he doesn’t hurt you again. First of all, unless you’ve already called him, I’m calling Nathan Battle and letting him know about this,” Tom said, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

      “Sheriff Battle?”

      “Yes. This week it’s a hateful message to you. Who knows what this might escalate into next or how much this troll might hurt someone else? For some reason, he or she or they want to hurt you or you wouldn’t have received that email. But I can’t imagine you have an enemy in this world.”

      “Frankly, Tom, I didn’t think about calling the sheriff. I was thinking more about us.”

      “I’m glad to hear you say that. If you get another message from Maverick, call me the minute you do.”

      “You saw the message—it was on target,” she said quietly, and his anger increased at hearing the pain in her voice.

      “It was a lie meant to hurt you. I’ll call Nathan right now.”

      Tom’s anger boiled and he was frustrated not to be able to take more direct action. When Nathan answered, Tom quickly told him about the email. After a minute or two, he turned to Emily. “Nathan wants to come pick up your CPU. He knows it most likely won’t do any good, but he doesn’t want to overlook anything.”

      “I don’t mind if he checks the CPU and the email,” she answered. “Goodness, I have nothing to hide. I’m going back into town, so I can drop it off at his office.”

      Tom smiled, then went back to talking to the sheriff for a minute before ending the call. “We’ll go by his office. I’ll help you get your CPU.”

      “That’s fine. How do you suppose someone got that picture? Do you remember who took it?”

      “There was some guy, about seventy years old, staying at the bed-and-breakfast. He was taking pictures. I’m sure he didn’t know any of us.”

      “Well, then, how did Maverick get the picture?”

      “The guy was using a camera. Maybe he got the prints made at a store. Those can be handled by several people. It wouldn’t be hard to get a copy.” He tilted his head to look at her. “Do you have plans tonight?”

      “Not at all,” she answered.

      “Good. Because I’m moving back in,” Tom announced in an authoritative voice that she assumed he’d developed in the Rangers. “I want to stay close, because no one knows Maverick’s ultimate intentions.”

      * * *

      Startled, Emily stared at him. “I appreciate your offer but it’s not necessary. I’m not staying on the ranch any longer. I’m going to restore Uncle Woody’s house and move in there. I’ve put a cot in a bedroom and I’m already living in Royal.”

      “You’ve moved off the ranch?” Tom said, frowning. “Look, Maverick isn’t getting the reaction from us that he, she or they expected, which will increase the hatred and anger toward you. Move back to the ranch until this Maverick gets caught. You’ll be safer here.”

      She might have been tempted to do what he asked, except he was asking for the wrong reason. She wasn’t moving back because of an email message. And now that she knew the truth and Tom still was the same Tom she had always known, she had lost her anger toward him. But they still had all the problems they’d had for the past five years. She was going to move into town and Tom wasn’t going to stop her.

      As she calmed down, the feelings and responses she had always had began to return, including noticing his

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