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Genuine Cowboy. Joanna WayneЧитать онлайн книгу.

Genuine Cowboy - Joanna  Wayne


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attraction, not fear, she’d felt at his hands.

      Eve slipped out of her robe, draped it across the one chair in the room and then dropped to the twin bed opposite Joey’s. She slid beneath the crisp sheets and pulled the quilt over her as confusing thoughts tumbled through her mind.

      The dread that had chilled her before Sean’s arrival had disappeared. The rambling old house no longer made her uneasy. If anything, she felt protected. Sean made the difference.

      Yet, she couldn’t start relying on him. Tomorrow might bring anything. Tonight she needed to get some sleep.

      Her eyelids grew heavy, and she turned over to stare out the window and into the darkness, and the scatter of stars that studded the sky.

      Her mind flashed back to Sean and a rush of heat crept inside her.

      Surely not desire, she told herself. Not in this situation. If she felt anything at all for Sean, the attraction stemmed from pure relief that he wasn’t Orson Bastion.

      If he had been, she’d be dead.

      But Orson was still on the loose.

      SOMEONE WAS IN THE HOUSE. Eve could hear him breathing, smell the odors of sweat and cheap aftershave, see his shadow coming nearer.

      She clutched the knife and felt the sear of pain and hot, sticky blood gushing into her hand. When she looked down she saw that the handle was missing and the blade had sliced into her palm.

      Her brain began to clatter. Eve jerked awake and sat up in bed. The clattering wasn’t in her brain, but was coming from the bedside table where her cell phone was vibrating against the old wood.

      She glanced at the clock as she grabbed the phone to quiet it before it woke Joey. Five minutes before six in the morning was extremely early for a call from either Gordon or Collette, and they were the only two who had her number.

      The vibration in the palm of her hand mirrored the state of her nerves as she whispered hello.

      “It’s Gordon. Is this Eve?”.

      “Yes.” The urgency in his voice told her this was not a good-news call.

       Chapter Five

      Eve tried to steady the phone in her shaky hand as she untangled herself from the bed covers.

      “I can barely hear you,” Gordon said. “Are you okay?”.

      “I’m fine.”.

      “Where are you?”.

      “Hold on.”.

      She slid her legs over the side of the bed and padded into the hall, quietly closing the bedroom door behind her before resuming the conversation. “I’m sorry, Gordon. I should have called you and let you know I was all right. I took your suggestion. I’m at Troy Ledger’s ranch in Mustang Run.”.

      “Thank God for that. Troy is the one man who’ll understand your situation. How is he?”.

      “He’s in the hospital.” She told him how she’d arrived to find him in the throes of an apparent heart attack.

      “Good thing you showed up when you did,” Gordon said.

      “I’m taking that as a good omen, but I’m still worried about Troy.”

      “Are you alone in Troy’s house?”

      “Not exactly. Troy’s son Sean is here.”

      “You mean Dylan?”

      “No, it seems I wasn’t the only one who showed up at the ranch unexpectedly last evening. It’s complicated.”

      “Sounds that way. The good news is you’re safe and don’t have to worry about Orson showing up at your house.”

      And yet she could hear the alarm in Gordon’s voice. “Is there news about Orson?”

      The long pause sent her pulse spiraling.

      “This could mean nothing, Eve. There’s no conclusive proof that Orson is even still in Texas.”

      “Don’t beat around the bush. Just give me the truth.”

      “Okay. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but a young woman was killed yesterday in a carjacking, and the police seem to think Orson might have been involved.”

      “I caught just the basics on the evening news last night.”

      “Then you know the car was deserted a few miles from where you live.”

      “No, I didn’t realize that.” A new wave of uneasiness wrecked havoc with her control. For all she knew, Orson might have already been to her house looking for her. Had she been there …

      She forced herself to breathe. “Is there more?”

      “Reagan Conner has been trying to get in touch with you.”

      “Reagan Conner? Should I know who that is?”

      “He’s the homicide detective investigating the murder.”.

      “Why would he contact you?”.

      “To see if I know anything to help them locate Orson. He questioned me about former inmates that Orson might try to hook up with for help in getting out of the area. I gave him a few names, but also told him about the threats on your life.”.

      “Did Detective Conner mention that I’d called the police department yesterday and told them I could be a target?”.

      “Yes. He wanted my take on the threat Orson made to you, but for the record, he thinks you’re overreacting. He’s convinced Orson’s only concern will be avoiding capture. Nonetheless, he says he’s been trying to reach you.”.

      “Did you give him this number?”.

      “No. You asked me not to give it to anyone, and I wouldn’t go against your wishes without asking first. I think you should call him, but handle it anyway you want. Just don’t go home until Orson is back in prison, or the cops are certain he’s out of the area.”.

      “Thanks for the heads-up that he was near my neighborhood. You can be sure I won’t go home until I’m convinced it’s safe to do so.”.

      Not that she had any idea where she would go, now that she couldn’t stay here.

      “Just hang tight,” Gordon said. “Every cop in the state is on the lookout for him. He’ll be behind bars soon.”.

      “I’m counting on that.”.

      In the meantime, Orson was disrupting every aspect of her life. If she didn’t have Joey, she’d just buy a gun and take her chances with the monster back in Dallas.

      But she did have Joey. Violence had torn his life apart once. Now she not only had to protect him, but see that he was not traumatized again.

      Once they’d said their goodbyes, anxiety scratched along her raw nerves like the claws of a wildcat. She drooped against the wall and buried her head in her hands, massaging her temples, as if that would stimulate her brain into making a decision as to what she should do next.

      “Is there a problem?”.

      Sean’s voice startled her. She turned to find him a few feet away, shadowed in the moonlight that filtered into the house. He was wearing jeans, still unsnapped at the waist. No shirt. No shoes.

      She fought an impulse to throw herself into his strong arms and stay there until the quaking inside stopped. After the knife episode, surely he’d think she was nuts. She managed to keep a ragged hold on her composure.

      “How much did you hear?” she asked.

      “Enough to know it wasn’t good news.”.

      “Good news seldom comes at daybreak, does it?”.

      “Not


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