LITMIR.BIZ

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      She jerked her head to one side, then the other, her gaze finally resting on Molly’s sweet face.

      “She’s hasn’t stirred,” Garrett whispered, his voice low and husky.

      Laurel longed to reach out and cuddle her niece, to touch her, to be certain. Molly’s pink cheeks were just visible at the edge of the blanket; a small frown tugged at her mouth.

      “No nightmares?” Laurel asked, shifting in her seat, combing her hair back from her face with her fingers.

      “A few whimpers in the middle of the night. She’s obviously exhausted.”

      “She can’t wrap her mind around what happened.” Laurel avoided Garrett’s sympathetic gaze. She pretended to study the rugged bark of the piñon branches rapping gently against the window. “I can’t understand most of the time.”

      He said nothing, and for that she was thankful. What could he say?

      She sent him a sidelong glance. She’d avoided thinking about him as a man, but now, in the close proximity, she couldn’t deny her heart stuttered a bit when she looked at him. He was handsome, but that wasn’t what drew her. The hard line of his jaw, the determination in his eyes. And his gentleness with Molly. He was the kind of man she could fall for.

      Smart, driven and deadly, but with a kind soul. And a heart.

      She wanted to reach out and touch him. Just once. She blinked, staring at him. His gaze had narrowed, an awareness in his eyes.

      He felt it, too.

      The next moment, she wondered if she’d imagined the spark between them. He blinked; the heat doused.

      Garrett pulled her SIG from below the seat. “You have extra ammo?”

      “Of course,” she said. “In my duffel. Dad trained me to go everywhere prepared.”

      “Not to mention the agency.”

      “They weren’t as tough as my father.”

      A small grin tugged at the edge of Garrett’s mouth. “So true. I’m going to check out the ranch house. If I’m not back in one hour, I want you to leave.” He handed her the keys and a slip of paper. “Contact Daniel Adams. He’s the only other person I know who can get you the kind of help you need.”

      She pocketed the number and clutched the butt of the SIG.

      “I’ll be back,” he said, opening the door.

      “Be careful.”

      He tipped the brim of his Stetson before closing the door softly.

      His catlike moves revealed more training than Laurel had. He disappeared around a pile of rocks. She caught a glimpse of his hat for a moment, but within minutes he’d vanished.

      She clutched the keys in her hand. She had a full tank of gas, Molly in the backseat. She could run, just disappear.

      Forget the past?

      The fiery inferno of her sister’s car burned the backs of her eyelids. Where was the justice in disappearing?

      Her sister never would have let it go. Laurel dug into her pocket and pulled out the prepaid cell. No signal. If anything did happen, how would she find help? Her father wouldn’t appreciate it if she put Fiona at risk.

      Who could Laurel ask?

      There was a reason she’d traveled all the way across the country. She had no choice but to trust Garrett. Him and his secrets.

      Her father had called Ivy the judge and jury and Laurel a lie detector. Perhaps it was true. If she had enough information, Laurel could usually figure out the truth. It was what made her good at her job.

      As long as the information was solid.

      And with Garrett, she had nothing.

      Laurel wrapped her arms around her knees, the gun heavy in her hand, comforting in its power. The chill of the winter air outside seeped into the car. She tugged the blanket closer and glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes. And he wasn’t back.

      A gust hit the tree, scraping the side of the truck. She tensed, gripping the butt of her SIG even tighter.

      Forty-five minutes.

      Laurel eyed the keys she’d placed on the dash. Fifteen minutes left.

      A loud yawn sounded from the backseat. “Where are we?” Molly sat up. “Cars aren’t for sleeping.” She looked outside, and her eyes widened. “We’re in the woods.”

      Laurel twisted in her seat and faced her niece with a forced smile on her face. “Like the three bears.”

      Molly gave her aunt a skeptical, you-can’t-be-serious expression.

      “Look!” Molly squealed, pointing out the window.

      Laurel brought the gun to the ready and aimed at the window.

      Garrett paused in his tracks and raised his hands with an arched brow.

      Molly giggled. “Sheriff Garrett is a good guy. You can’t shoot him.”

      Laurel dropped the weapon and stuffed it into her jacket.

      With a forced smile on his face, he opened the back door. “And how is Sleeping Beauty this morning?”

      “Hungry,” Molly said, rubbing her eyes.

      “I think we can take care of that. But first we’re going for a little walk.” Garrett met Laurel’s gaze and gave her a slight nod. “All clear.”

      She slipped out of the seat and headed to the back of the truck.

      “Don’t carry too much,” Garrett said. “The terrain is rocky. I’ll come back for the rest later.” He turned to Molly. “Want to wear my hat?” he asked, holding it out to the small child.

      Molly gazed up at him, her blue eyes huge. She nodded and Garrett tipped the hat on her head. It fell over Molly’s eyes and she giggled. “It’s too big.”

      “Are you saying I have a big head, young lady?” Garrett asked with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

      Molly’s grin widened and for the first time in days she lost that haunted look in her eyes. “Bigger than mine,” she said. “You’re funny. I like you, Sheriff Garrett.”

      “I like you, too, sugar.”

      The endearment made Molly smile again, but a swallow caught in Laurel’s throat, because the normalcy wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.

      Garrett led them through the jagged mountains, so unlike the woods in Virginia. Craggy rocks, the evergreen of piñon trees, lower to the ground, searching for water. Dry and harsh. Laurel stumbled and fell against a rock, scraping her hand.

      Garrett was right beside her in an instant, helping her to her feet, his arm firm around her waist. His touch lingered for a moment, as did the concern in his brown eyes. “You okay? It’s not much farther.”

      Molly stood, holding her lion against her chest. The little scamp hopped from one rock to the next.

      “Fine,” Laurel said, but her belly had started to ache. It always did when the nerves were uncontrollable. Every moment buried the truth further. They were truly out in the middle of nowhere. Without communication, without anyone but Garrett. How long could it last? How long would they be here?

      How could they help her father from here? Much less themselves?

      The questions whirled through her mind until a small stone-and-wood structure jutted from an incline.

      The ranch house, with a porch surrounding it, wasn’t large. Off to the side a small corral appeared more abandoned than anything. She couldn’t see any sign of livestock.

      “Here we are,” he said, climbing up the steps and opening

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