Under His Protection. Linda Turner

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      When she didn’t see John for the rest of the afternoon, Elizabeth told herself it was probably for the best. He was an employee, and he was the type of man who wouldn’t ever let her forget that. Not that she wanted to, she reminded herself grimly. Spencer’s betrayal was still fresh in her mind and heart and probably would be for a long time.

      The quickest way to get over one man is to find another.

      She winced at the old adage. No. No. No! She wasn’t going there, wasn’t even going to consider it. If she knew nothing else about John Cassidy, she knew he wasn’t the kind of man a woman walked away from easily. Buck and Rainey would be back from their honeymoon in a month, and she didn’t know where she would be after that. Colorado? London? Maybe even California or New York. It all depended on where she decided to open her shop. Wherever it was, she wasn’t leaving her heart behind.

      The matter settled, she spent the rest of the day in Buck’s office, acquainting herself with what it took to run the business end of the ranch, and she didn’t once look out the window for John. She thought she heard the tractor several times, but she determinedly pulled her attention back to the ranch’s financial statements.

      By the time she shut the computer down, it was going on nine in the evening. After sitting at a desk for so many hours, she was stiff and sore and in desperate need of a long soak in the tub. When she stepped into her bedroom to collect her nightgown and robe, however, the thought of a bath flew right out of her head when she spied the note lying on her pillow.

      A frown etched her brow. What the dickens was John up to? It had to be from him, of course—they were the only two people on the ranch. But why would he leave a note on her pillow? Or, for that matter, come into her bedroom? If he had something to say to her, all he had to do was knock on the office door—she’d been working at Buck’s desk all day.

      Her heart in her throat, she stepped over to the bed and without touching it, studied the single piece of paper that had been folded in half. On the outside, her name was sloppily written in a script she didn’t recognize. She hadn’t seen John’s handwriting, but she would have thought that his would be neater.

      Don’t touch it, a voice in her head warned. Go find him and see if he wrote the note.

      Hesitating, she considered that option, but what if it really was from him? Then she’d feel like an idiot. Making a snap decision, she picked up the piece of paper and pulled it open.

      LEAVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN!

      Her blood suddenly pounding in her ears, she dropped the note lightning quick. John was responsible for this, she told herself, and desperately tried to believe it. He had access to the house and motive—he didn’t like answering to her. He probably thought that if he could convince her to leave, Buck would come back early from his honeymoon and he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore.

      As far as theories went, Elizabeth knew it was half-baked. But she wouldn’t allow herself to consider anything else when she was completely alone in the house and so scared she could taste it. Picking up the note by the corner with fingers that were far from steady, she hurried downstairs and outside to John’s cabin.

      “I want to know what the meaning of this is right now!” she bellowed the second he opened the door to her. “If you think you can scare me into leaving, then you’ve wasted your time.”

      Surprised, he scowled. “What the devil are you talking about?”

      “This!” she snapped, and waved a piece of paper in his face.

      Without a word, he snatched it out of her hand and read it, only to glance up at her sharply. “Where’d you get this?”

      “On my pillow,” she replied. “And don’t pretend you don’t know anything about it. You had to do it. You’re the only one here.”

      If she thought he would deny it, she was doomed to disappointment. Instead, he walked straight to the phone on the table next to the couch and dialed 911. “I need the sheriff,” he told the dispatcher curtly. “There’s been a break-in at the Broken Arrow Ranch.”

      “Is the intruder still in the house?”

      “Not that I know of,” he retorted, “but I can’t be sure of that. I don’t even know how he got in.”

      “Is anyone hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

      “No…just the sheriff and a couple of his men to search the place. I could do it, but—”

      “No!” the dispatcher said quickly. “Please don’t take that chance. There’s a deputy on the way—he should be there shortly. In the meantime, do you have any weapons?”

      “I’ve got a shotgun and I’m not afraid to use it,” he retorted. “Right now, Ms. Wyatt and I are in СКАЧАТЬ