She’d disappeared a few mornings after the fire. Some witnesses said they saw her driving off in a sedan, but no one had seen her since then. There was some question as to whether the former officer had killed the woman and dumped her body. The prosecutors were in a bad position. They had no body and no witnesses. They couldn’t prove the arson. Tommy Lane was a free man.
Max studied the picture of the man who had made Rachel’s life a living hell. He was a rough-looking son of bitch. He was probably forty, and it looked like he’d gotten there the hard way. He was dressed in a crisp uniform, but there was something shady about him that no dress uniform could ever cover up.
Max glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite eight. Rachel wouldn’t be getting off work for another hour and a half. He had time. He intended to be there when she left. He would follow her home. From now on, he would take her to and from work until he could convince her she didn’t need to work at all. She was fairly safe at the diner. Both Stella and Hal carried guns, and they wouldn’t hesitate to use them. Rye would make sure everyone in town knew what the fucker looked like and to shoot him on sight. They could make up a daring tale of self-defense later. Everyone in Bliss would back them up on it. They stuck together in Bliss, and Rachel was one of their own now.
Rye walked in. He placed his Stetson on a large filing cabinet and looked pointedly at his desk. “I was on my way home when Callie called. What are you doing here? And why the hell are you on my system? Do you know I can arrest you for that?”
“Arrest me later.” Max turned the laptop around. “I know why Rachel ran.”
Max got up and allowed his brother to sit. It didn’t take long before Max saw Rye flush with rage. He knew exactly what his brother was feeling. He was feeling the extreme need to defend their woman.
“He’s going to come after her,” Max said quietly. “He won’t be satisfied. He knows she’s not dead, and I have no doubt he’s looking.”
Rye sat back. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head as though trying to rid himself of some terrible image. “You’re right. He’s obsessed with her. He won’t stop.” Rye looked up at him. “You don’t think…?” His eyes went to the spot on Max’s arm where he’d had the stitches taken out earlier today.
Max wasn’t sure. He went with logic. “I don’t think so. Why would he have been quiet for a whole week? He’s had numerous opportunities to take another shot at any one of us.”
Rye stared at his chest. He was thinking about how close he’d come to losing his brother. Max knew because once he’d felt the same way. Rye had been in a car accident, and it had been the worst time of Max’s life. He knew just how Rye felt, but he wanted to get back to the problem at hand, saving Rachel.
“How would he have found her?” Max asked.
Rye sighed. His face tightened, and there was guilt in his eyes when he looked at Max. “I put a call in to a couple of the PDs in Texas, mostly Houston and a couple of suburbs around there. I was just putting out some feelers. No one knew anything. She changed her hair color, and she lost a lot of weight.”
The Rachel Swift who had come to Bliss bore little resemblance to the woman in the newspaper photos, though now, with proper and consistent meals, she was beginning to look more like herself. Max had been stuffing her, trying to get her to lose that gaunt, haunted look.
Rye continued. “But if this guy is as devious as he sounds, he would have known she had to have help. If I was him, I would have checked out her family.”
“She doesn’t have one.” The papers had verified her stories. Rachel was alone on the world.
“Then I would check out the local women’s shelters or maybe someone at the hospital. Someone helped Rachel. If he got to that person, he would know her fake identities. All he has to do is have a cop buddy call someone in one of those towns and make up a reason to be on the lookout for her. I tripped his little fail-safe when I put the trace on her. Damn, Max, if I had any idea this could happen, I never would have checked her out.”
“It isn’t your fault. We don’t know that he’s found her again. How are we going to protect her? I’m worried that she’ll run if she thinks he’s on her trail.”
Rye was quiet for a moment as he thought. “Maybe you should run with her.”
“No.” Max had already thought of and discarded that possibility. “That isn’t a life, Rye. Look what it did to her. She ran because she was all alone in the world. She isn’t anymore. This is her home. Every person in this town will defend her. I won’t let this asshole run our wife off, and I won’t let him hurt her again.”
A slow smile crossed Rye’s face. His brother hadn’t missed his intentional use of words. She wasn’t their wife yet, but in Max’s mind, it was only a matter of time.
“You said ‘our,’ Max.”
For the first time in weeks, Max felt the gulf between them begin to shrink. He realized now that Rye needed him to say the words. Rye needed to know that he was willing to share Rachel. “I meant it. She’s the one, and you know it.”
Rye’s smile turned slightly sad, but Max could feel something inside his brother relax. A tension that had been there since Rachel had come to town now loosened. Max was glad to see it go.
“I know,” Rye said. “We’ve been waiting for her all of our lives, but we have to get her to recognize it.”
Max nodded. “We will. First, we deal with this asshole.”
“It won’t be easy. We’ll have to keep an eye on her.”
“I think the whole town should keep an eye on her.”
Rye looked thoughtful for a moment. “That is a fantastic idea. I have another one. We can get a PI working back in Dallas to come up with the dirt on this asshole. He needs to be in jail. I won’t feel safe until he’s behind bars. On Monday, we’ll talk to the prosecutors. If we go back to Dallas with Rachel, it will make their job a lot easier. If Rachel testifies, maybe we can get him in jail without bond. He’s made it plain he means to kill her.”
“Let’s get through the weekend first. Rach is so excited about the Founder’s Day thing tomorrow. I can’t bring myself to shake up her whole world. She’s safe for now. We have no evidence that he knows where she is. We won’t let her out of our sight. Sunday night, we’ll explain everything to her. Hopefully, we’ll both still be standing at the end.” Max had no doubt that Rachel would be furious they had checked up on her. She would fight them, but this was one fight he meant to win.
“It’s too important to ignore,” Rye said solemnly. “We can’t just hope she’s going to tell us someday. We have to do what we can to get this guy in prison so he can’t come after our woman again.”
Max sighed as Rye started to make some calls. He didn’t mention to his law-abiding brother that he had no intention of Lane seeing the inside of a jail cell. They were too easy to break out of. There was parole and prison overcrowding to consider. No, there wouldn’t be any cushy prison cells for Tommy Lane. There was only one way Max would be able to sleep at night.
He was going to kill him.
Chapter Eleven
Rachel stood behind the counter of the diner and looked at her boss. “You’re sure you don’t need me to stay the whole shift?”
She was hoping beyond hope that the answer was no. She was anxious to get back home and check up on Max and Rye. Her heart did a little flip-flop at the word “home.” She was starting to think of Harper Stables as her home. She loved the big house and the easy way the three of them shared it. After tomorrow night, they would share everything, she promised herself. She intended to make it impossible for them to deny her or themselves any longer.
Stella looked distracted. She was in full preparation mode for the big picnic and auction tomorrow. Rachel heard the doors to the diner open. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve been slow all day.”
Rachel took off her apron and walked around the counter to get her purse. She was stopped in her tracks by two cowboys. She took in the sight of the two men walking into the place like they owned it. Jen stopped beside her. Her hands were still holding the order she was taking out.
“Damn,” Jen said under her breath. Her eyes widened as she watched the cowboys striding in.
Damn was right, Rachel thought, hiding her smile. Stefan had been correct about the Kent brothers. They were just about perfect for her purposes. They each had dark hair peeking out from their Stetsons. Their long legs looked strong in tight jeans and worn boots. They weren’t twins, but there was no question they were brothers. Rachel was taken by their startlingly deep green eyes. They were young men, but there was no doubt that they were men.
“Ma’am,” the taller one said, tipping his hat as he took a seat at the counter. His brother followed. Neither of them hid the fact that they were assessing the women in the room. Rachel rolled her eyes as the one on the right boldly stared at her chest.
“Who are they?” Jen leaned toward Rachel and kept her voice low.
“Friends of Stefan’s.” Rachel offered no other explanation. They really were friends of Stefan’s. They were also about to be the bane of Max’s and Rye’s existence. She had to carefully school her face because she wanted to laugh. The Kent brothers probably acted a whole lot like the Harper twins had when they were arrogant twenty-somethings. In her mind’s eye, she could see Rye and Max at that age, before the world had tempered them. They would have swaggered through the diner, too, checking out every available female as though it was just a question of which one to choose for the night. If Max’s head didn’t explode when he caught sight of them, it would be a miracle.
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