Bulletproof Christmas - Barb Han

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decided to stick around another minute.

      * * *

      CADENCE BUTLER CLOSED the door to her bedroom. She was home, only it didn’t feel like it since her father’s murder. The place would never be the same without him. She put a hand on her growing belly as a wave of sadness crashed down around her, threatening to chew her up, toss her around and then spit her out into the surf.

      Other than one quick stop over the summer, which netted an unfortunate incident with the law, she hadn’t been home for good reason. Trying to scare her half sister, Madelyn, out of town had been a childish lapse in judgment. Those were racking up.

      How she’d concealed her pregnancy for so long was a mystery. At six months pregnant, she was surprisingly big. Or at least she’d thought so. Her doctor had reassured her that it was perfectly normal for a woman carrying twins to show as early as she had.

      Another wave of melancholy hit as she thought about the babies who would never get the chance to know their grandfather.

      “I can’t wait to see you running around on this land someday. Just like I used to when I was a little girl,” she whispered, resting her hand on her growing baby bump.

      It was late and she was grateful to have slipped inside the house without seeing anyone, without any drama. Come morning, there’d be a million questions and she still didn’t know what to say about the pregnancy. Her fling with Rory had been kept secret. He’d wanted to tell her brothers but she’d convinced him not to say anything.

      There was a practical reason for her coming home that didn’t include the big reveal of a pregnancy with twins. She thought about the poachers encroaching on the land, taking advantage of the distractions following her father’s murder. Her blood heated thinking about the kind of person who would try to capitalize on a tragedy.

      Running Hereford Ranch had its challenges. Ones her father had made look so easy. But then people had known better than to mess with the ranch while her father was alive. Poachers must see the new regime, including her, as weak or they wouldn’t be encroaching. They were about to be taught a valuable lesson, she thought. Her thoughts shifted to the best tracker in the country, Rory Scott. Rory was in Wyoming tracking other poachers. He’d broken her heart when he ended their fling and walked out five months ago. Thinking about it, about him, stressed her out.

      A warm bath would do wonders toward relaxing her tension knots. Strain wasn’t good for the babies. Neither was sadness and that was part of the reason she’d stayed away from the ranch. Being here without her father...

      Cadence couldn’t go there.

      She slipped inside her room, grateful there hadn’t been a big deal made over her return. No one would bother her until morning and that would give her time to think up an excuse as to why she was coming home six-months pregnant with Rory Scott’s twins.

      Thankfully, her bathroom was adjacent to her room. Access was restricted. She didn’t want to deal with her brothers and sister tonight. She wanted to get her bearings first. Being home, facing the ranch, brought back so many memories. Good memories that made her wish she’d had more time with her father. She gulped for air.

      The father she rarely understood but always loved was never coming back.

      Her heart clutched. Moving past her window, a chill raced up her spine and she got a creepy feeling. It was most likely her imagination. Or...

      Was someone out there watching?

       Chapter Two

      “I’ll be on my way before your lady friend returns. Wouldn’t want to ruin the moment.” Rory could see the tension building in Dex—or whatever his name was—and it was time to make his exit before this situation escalated. The glint he’d seen was most definitely from a weapon and that shot all kinds of warning flares.

      Watching the campsite would be tricky with the beagle, but Rory figured he could put enough distance between them to keep off the dog’s radar.

      When Rory really thought about it, using a dog was smart. Dex’s cover was perfect. Not many people would notice the subtle things, like the fact that the guy might be playing dumb when it came to nature, but he seemed to know enough to tie up his trash away from the site. Or that after spending a good fifteen minutes snooping around, the guy’s so-called girlfriend hadn’t returned. There was no alcohol on the site, either. Wouldn’t that be part of a romantic camping trip for two people of drinking age? There didn’t look to be any food supplies, either, which struck him as odd for someone planning to spend the night.

      Was he a poacher?

      Rory didn’t see any of the usual supplies, consisting of water and weapons. This guy could be a scout, sending information back. This campsite was close enough to the Butler ranch that Dex might be there to watch out for ranch hands.

      “Much appreciated. Camille is already skittish out here,” Dex said with a wink, seemingly unaware of his mistake. Rory immediately noticed the name change. He’d called his girlfriend Lainey five minutes ago. Suddenly, her name was Camille.

      Rory concealed the fact that he was scrutinizing Dex’s features. The man would be fantastic at poker. For the most part, Dex kept his cards close to his chest.

      “Thanks for letting me take a look around your camp.” Rory offered a handshake, needing to wrap this up. He’d seen enough to know that Dex required watching. He was involved in something illegal, but there was nothing to go on besides trespassing at present. Keeping an eye on the man might lead Rory to the real source, which could be poachers. Another thought struck and that was Dex could be a reporter. Although the headlines involving the Butlers had died down a bit recently, with the will reading coming up, there’d been renewed interest in everything Butler.

      “No problem.” Dex stood and took the offering. The minute their palms grazed, Rory realized how nervous the guy had been. His hand had just enough moisture to reveal his emotions. Rory had to hand it to Dex, he came off as cool as a cucumber and that fact sent a few more warning flares up.

      Rory walked away, careful to make sure he disappeared in the same direction he’d arrived. He could almost feel the set of eyes on his back as he walked farther from the campsite and listened carefully for any sounds that Dex might be following. He’d probably stuck around a little too long. The handshake could have been overkill. Damn.

      His mistakes could lead to suspicion.

      Forty-five minutes had passed since Rory recovered his previous spot, watching the campsite from afar. There’d been no movement. No Lainey, or Camille...or whatever her name was.

      Rory had known that for the lie it was.

      Dex tied Boots to a tree trunk. With the fire still blazing, he grabbed a walking-type stick and headed north, the opposite direction of the Butler estate.

      What was he up to now?

      Rory watched intently, using his night-vision goggles. He checked the time. Where did Dex think he was going at this hour?

      The only evidence Rory had against the man so far was trespassing. Not exactly a strong case to entice the sheriff’s office to send a deputy out immediately. The office would most likely take the complaint and promise to investigate. Sheriff Sawmill and his deputies were still too overrun to follow up on every lead unless Rory could present compelling evidence that this was more. It was hard to believe the sheriff still hadn’t arrested Maverick Mike Butler’s murderer.

      A pang of guilt hit him like stray voltage. He’d wanted to stick around after learning that Mr. Butler had been murdered. He could only imagine the devastation the family felt and especially Cadence.

      There were a few too many times in the past five months that he’d wanted to return and be her comfort. The news coverage on Cattle Barge had almost been 24/7. He’d seen the story of her arrest and then release after she tried to run off someone claiming to be her half sister.

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