Название: Marked By The Marshal
Автор: Julie Anne Lindsey
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Heroes
isbn: 9781474093620
isbn:
The sound of a car door drew Kara’s attention back to the moment, and she was irrationally glad to have something else to think about. Even the possibility of an unwanted guest. Kara padded across the living room carpet for a peek between the curtains. There was no movement on the street or in her driveway. Whoever had arrived or gone in the car had already done so, and the neighborhood had settled back into the hazy calm of a sweltering summer night. She checked the door and window locks again for good measure, moving methodically around the first floor, then up to the second.
It was nothing. Just a neighbor coming or going. No reason to overthink this.
The tug of sleep pulled at her muscles and eyelids as she tested the final window. She rubbed the fine hairs on her forearms, smoothing them where they stood at attention, sent on alert by the goose bumps covering her skin. She’d reported her weird exchange at the park to the local sheriff, a man who had nearly become her brother-in-law once. What more could she do? Thankfully, he hadn’t judged her for her paranoia. Instead, he’d promised to look into it and to add a night patrol to her street. She really couldn’t ask for more, especially considering nothing had actually happened. Kara had dealt with pushy men all her life, ones who leered at her and said crude things. She imagined all women had, but it was the first time she’d been confronted so blatantly with her baby present. Maybe that was what had upset her so much. The idea her baby was there. That he’d wanted to touch her. Is her daddy at work? Was that his creepy way of asking if Kara was involved with anyone since her ring finger was bare?
Kara moved to Casey’s room for another look at her sweet princess. She needed a nice vision to replace the man’s face burned into her mind. He’d had a slightly crazed expression like the one Ryder had worn at his worst, during the sleepless weeks of obsession over a fugitive named Timothy Sand. Ryder was barely human in those days, distant and monosyllabic. Like an addict or a man coming slowly unhinged. If only. Had either of those things been the problem, she could’ve gotten him help, sheltered him through the storm, but Ryder’s problems were of his choosing, and no one could’ve put him on another path, not even her.
Kara stopped the still-turning mobile that dangled high above Casey’s slack face. Baby drool edged from her droopy bottom lip, perhaps a sign of a first tooth on its way. One sweet dimpled arm lay across the stuffed dolly that had once belonged to Kara. Kara had gotten Rainy Rosie and her little yellow raincoat in an Easter basket during fourth grade and kept her in a memory box for years before Casey was born. Now, Rosie was gnawed on endlessly by her precious daughter. Kara suppressed a chuckle and slid back into the hallway, tugging the door nearly closed behind her.
The trip back downstairs seemed endless, like a dream hallway that grew longer with every step. Maybe tonight was a good night to sleep in the nursery. She’d fallen asleep in the glider many times before. She could bring a glass of water and a book. Let sleep take her at will.
Kara flipped the light switches and tugged the lamp chains one by one as she shut the house down for the night. Coffeepot off. She poured a glass of water and tucked a worn paperback under one bent arm, then grabbed the baby monitor from the counter. She liked her plan more and more by the second. Locked inside the nursery, she and Casey would be together, and they would be safe. Tomorrow was a new day, and tonight’s fears would likely seem as silly as they really were.
She checked the door lock once more and peeked through the front window for the last time. Breath caught in her throat as a tiny movement registered across the street. The glass of water jostled in her trembling hand. Kara shut her eyes and whispered, “It’s nothing, there’s nothing there, it’s okay, you’re okay.” She reopened her lids and gave the darkened street another cautious look.
Slowly, the shadow of a man peeled away from a broad oak tree and started a path in her direction.
Kara’s pulse pounded in her ears. She pressed a hand to her constricting chest and willed herself to think. The man at the park had been big. He’d had at least fifty pounds on her, and she was out of shape. If he managed to get through the door, no one would see. At least at the park there were a hundred witnesses. Here, alone in her darkened house... Every self-defense move she’d ever learned was gone. Vanished. She could only think of how to escape, keep Casey safe and get away if the man tried to force his way inside.
Heavy footfalls clomped up her porch steps, vibrating through her soul. Where was that extra patrolman West had promised her? West! Kara pulled the phone from her pocket and dialed the personal number he’d left with her earlier.
She prayed softly against the phone receiver as the knocking began.
Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. She pressed her back against the warm wooden door for strength and willed West to answer his darn phone.
The knocks behind her came lightly at first, cautiously, and grew steadily more insistent. Her interior lights were already off. Maybe whoever was on her porch would assume no one was home and go away. The nagging possibility she was being paranoid began to creep in. She hadn’t gotten a clean look at the man crossing her street. It could be anyone. Maybe she was overreacting. Then again, whoever was out there at this hour was probably up to no good. Man from the park, or someone else. Didn’t matter. It was far too late for visiting. Besides, who could it even be? No man had climbed her steps in a year. Figurative or otherwise.
Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. The call connected and Kara gasped. Tears of relief blurred her vision.
“Garrett,” West answered, a bubble of laughter in his voice. Country music mingled with sounds of a crowd in the background.
“West?” she whispered, cupping her hands protectively around the phone. Not wanting to be heard by the man outside her door. “There’s someone on my porch and I’m freaking out.”
The background sounds grew silent. “Kara?” West’s voice was sharp now, followed by the distinct snick of a closing door. “What’s going on?”
She swallowed a yelp as the knocking grew into pounding against her spine. “Someone’s here.” The quiver troubling her limbs infiltrated her voice.
Kara swung her attention to the stairwell. She could be upstairs in twenty seconds, and at the backdoor with Casey in thirty more. Could the man on her porch break down the door in less time than that? What if he predicted her move and was at the back door when she got there?
“Sit tight,” West said with utter Garrett-like confidence. “I’m sending someone to you. Give me five minutes to route him your way.”
“Okay.” Her darting gaze landed on the hearth. “I might hit him with a fireplace poker.”
“Tell you what. Anyone comes through that door without an invitation, and you’ve got my support in doing whatever you want to him,” he huffed. “He’s not responding.”
“Your deputy?” Kara squeaked. Could the man on her porch have taken out the patrolling deputy?
The knocking stalled, and a new kind of fear clawed through her. At least while he was knocking, she knew where he was. A shadow fell over СКАЧАТЬ