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Rescued by a Ranger
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She’s Running From The Law…
Alexandra Hunt is living a lie. In fact, that’s not even her real name. But after the death of her estranged husband, Alex and her four-year-old daughter were at the mercy of ruthless people: her powerful, possibly crooked former in-laws. When they came after her child, Alex saw no choice but to flee. Small town Fredericksburg, Texas, offers unexpected sanctuary. Until she meets her next-door neighbor, by-the-book—and devilishly handsome—Texas Ranger Zane Winchester!
Single father Zane has to admit he has a thing for sweet, pretty Alex. Yet while the attraction is mutual, she’s definitely hiding something. And Zane can’t abide a liar. He needs to find out Alex’s secrets before he can truly allow her into his and his teenage daughter’s lives. But when he discovers the truth, will he help Alex—or turn her in?
“Dammit, Alex.” Frustration roughened Zane’s voice to a growl. “Everything’s private with you, everything’s too personal to share.”
She drew back, stung.
“Some days I catch myself obsessing, what is she keeping from me? Then I think, everything. You say this part of a relationship is for getting to know one another, but whenever I try, you shut me out. You change the subject, you refuse to answer questions, you get hostile. And over the past couple of days, you kiss me or give me ‘that look’ and the question gets forgotten. I think I prefer the direct hostility. It feels more honest.”
Tears blurred her vision. A dozen scathing replies came to mind, but she choked them all down. Because she’d been a fraud from day one. She didn’t have the right to fight with him over it.
“I’m obviously not ready for this,” she said. “Maybe I never will be. Maybe I’m damaged goods. You’re a great guy, and you should hold out for someone with more to offer.”
“Alex, wait—” He scrambled off the bed.
She paused in the doorway and gave him a sad smile. “On the bright side, you won’t have to worry about my distracting you with kisses anymore.”
Dear Reader,
I have enjoyed writing my Hill Country Heroes books almost as much as I enjoyed visiting the Texas Hill Country region! For my last book in the miniseries, I wanted to come up with a special hero, someone quintessentially Texan. Meet Zane Winchester, Texas Ranger, a brave lawman devoted to his community and his daughter. Unfortunately for Zane, sometimes raising a teenager can be just as tricky as tracking down bad guys.
Single mom Heather Hargrove is facing her own parenting challenges—namely how to keep her four-year-old out of the clutches of her wealthy and corrupt former in-laws. When desperation forces Heather into hiding under a false identity, she winds up living right next door to Zane. Just how is she supposed to keep her secrets from a man trained to solve cases and see through lies? Just as troubling, how is she supposed to keep herself from falling for the handsome neighbor who manages to make her laugh in the midst of her problems and values her advice as a parent?
Writing this book, I grew to care not only about Heather and Zane but their community of friends and family. Follow me on Twitter and Facebook to get the latest announcements on whether any of the characters might be popping up in future stories!
Happy reading,
Tanya
Rescued by a Ranger
Tanya Michaels
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Three-time RITA® Award nominee Tanya Michaels writes about what she knows—community, family and lasting love! Her books, praised for their poignancy and humor, have received honors such as a Booksellers’ Best Bet Award, a Maggie Award of Excellence and multiple readers’ choice awards. She was also a 2010 RT Book Reviews nominee for Career Achievement in Category Romance. Tanya is an active member of Romance Writers of America and a frequent public speaker, presenting workshops to educate and encourage aspiring writers. She lives outside Atlanta with her very supportive husband, two highly imaginative children and a household of quirky pets, including a cat who thinks she’s a dog and a bichon frise who thinks she’s the center of the universe.
Books by Tanya Michaels
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
1170—TROUBLE IN TENNESSEE
1185—THE PERFECT TREE
“Tanner and Baum”
1203—AN UNLIKELY MOMMY
1225—A DAD FOR HER TWINS
1235—MISTLETOE BABY*
1255—MISTLETOE CINDERELLA*
1270—MISTLETOE MOMMY*
1279—MISTLETOE HERO*
1311—THE BEST MAN IN TEXAS
1321—TEXAS BABY
1343—HIS VALENTINE SURPRISE
1368—A MOTHER’S HOMECOMING
1388—CLAIMED BY A COWBOY**
1399—TAMED BY A TEXAN**
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
968—HERS FOR THE WEEKEND
986—SHEER DECADENCE
1008—GOING ALL THE WAY
*4 Seasons in Mistletoe
**Hill Country Heroes
It’s important for writers to recharge creatively and stay inspired.
This book was powered by the music of NEEDTOBREATHE and Rob Thomas.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Excerpt
Chapter One
Oh, God, what have I done? Panic crowded Heather Hargrove’s chest. Faced with the scariest threat of her life, she’d bolted—potentially making her circumstances even worse. In an attempt to calm herself, Heather watched her four-year-old daughter contentedly snore beneath a blanket on the leather sofa. Josie’s safe. For the moment, anyway.
I won’t let anyone take her from me.
Although they’d fled Houston earlier that day, the reality of Heather’s situation was just as grim here in Dallas. She did not have the long-term resources to fight Eileen and Phillip Hargrove. Her wealthy former in-laws were one of the most powerful couples in the state of Texas. They’d be nearly impossible to beat in a custody battle even if they let themselves be constrained by anything as plebeian as “conscience” or “law.” When Heather had first become engaged to their son, the Hargroves had attempted to end the relationship by bribing one of her former foster mothers to lie about her. With pockets as deep as theirs, who knew what kind of damaging testimony they could buy? If Heather had faced them in court, she would have lost Josie, her entire world. But her failure to appear this afternoon meant the judge could rule automatic forfeiture of custody.
“Here.” Bryce Callahan walked back into the condo living room carrying two mugs. One was chipped at the top and featured a cartoon alien. The other was a shiny cobalt blue, printed with the logo of his software company. “Sorry I can’t offer you anything to add to your coffee. I got used to drinking mine black because I never remember to buy sugar.”
When she took the drink without comment, he added, “I did see a jug of milk behind the take-out boxes in the fridge, but I think it’s been there since Christmas.”
She tried unsuccessfully to smile. “You should probably throw it out, then.”
“With St. Patrick’s Day only three weeks away? Pshaw. It’ll fit right in with all the other green beverages.”
Heather cradled the warm mug between her hands. The last thing her jangled nerves needed was caffeine, but she was grateful for the heat. After the rainy five-hour drive, she felt frozen from the unrelenting damp and pervasive fear. “I’m sorry I came here, Bryce. I didn’t really think this through.” She’d been operating on
desperation and adrenaline.
“Hey, what are old friends for? You don’t have to apologize, Red.” His crooked smile and the unimaginative nickname took her back to when she’d been eighteen. “I told you at that fundraiser to call me if you ever needed anything, remember?” Their chance encounter at a charity gala last April had been the one bright spot of a mortifying evening.
He’d handed her his business card, eyes filled with worry, and said he hoped to hear from her soon. Prior to that night, the two college friends hadn’t seen each other since Bryce had flunked out of the University of Texas. The computer genius had prioritized all-nighters leveling up in video games above attending 8:00 a.m. sociology lectures.
Tonight, in plaid pajama pants and a black T-shirt boasting Total Domination, his sandy brown hair in need of a trim, Bryce looked more like the bighearted slacker he used to be than the successful game designer he was now. At the benefit, she hadn’t even recognized him in his tux. Of course, she’d been preoccupied, trying to deal with her uncharacteristically hostile husband at the last social function they’d attended as a married couple. Unlike his father, Christopher Hargrove’s favorite form of manipulation had always been charm, not bullying. But, by last spring, Christopher had become fed up with her questions about his family’s shadier dealings and her insistence that they couldn’t raise their daughter with the Hargroves’ flagrant disregard for rules.
Christopher had believed consequences were for other people, but being rich, good-looking and well-connected hadn’t saved him when he wrapped his sports car around a tree the month after Heather left him. The Hargroves blamed her, said his self-destructive actions had been fueled by his pain over losing his wife and daughter. Eileen Hargrove’s ice blue eyes had bored holes into Heather at the funeral. “You killed him, you ungrateful nobody. You killed my son! And you will pay.”
Heather shivered, and coffee sloshed over the rim of her mug.
“Easy,” Bryce cautioned, taking the hot cup away from her. He turned to set it on the coffee table, but the surface was buried under gaming magazines, napkins from local fast-food restaurants and illegible notes scrawled in half a dozen spiral notebooks. With a shrug, he shoved a stack of papers to the floor, then blinked at the corner he’d uncovered. “Huh. I forgot this had a glass top.”
“What am I going to do?” Heather asked. It was a rhetorical question. Her mess wasn’t his problem.
“I’ll tell you what you’re not going to do—let those soulless bastards take Little Red.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as he glanced at Josie’s fiery curls. “I know I only saw you with her father from across the ballroom, but he was clearly bad news.”
It had been obvious to anyone with eyes and ears what kind of night she and her husband had been having. Bryce hadn’t bothered trying to catch up with her about old times; he’d simply waited until Christopher went to the restroom to say hi and give her his number. She’d called Bryce for moral support after she and Josie had moved into an apartment. Shame welled inside her, humiliation that it had taken her so long to admit her husband would never change. Her old friend had seen Christopher’s true colors in a single evening. Why had it taken her years?
In her defense, Bryce had only witnessed her husband drunk and antagonistic. He hadn’t seen the determined charmer who’d pursued her or doted on her during their first blissful year of marriage. Plus, Bryce had been looking through the eyes of an adult, not the eyes of a young woman who’d grown up in the foster care system and felt cherished for the first time in her life.
“Chris had his moments,” she said softly. She liked to think that some of her late husband’s good qualities would live on in Josie.
Bryce waved a hand. “My point was, you make his parents sound about a thousand times worse than him.”
“Agreed. But running was a mistake.” All she’d ever wanted growing up was a family of her own, yet now she’d endangered her daughter’s chances of a normal home life. Josie was still reeling from losing her father. How could she be expected to cope if Heather’s impulsive actions landed her in jail? After her arguments with Christopher about operating outside the rules, her failure to appear made her a terrible hypocrite.
“You’re not thinking about going back?” Bryce asked dubiously.
Dread knotted her stomach. Her in-laws had scared the hell out of her from the day she’d met them. At first, it had been because she hadn’t believed she was good enough for their son—an opinion Eileen Hargrove reinforced at every opportunity. But over the past few years, she’d become apprehensive for other reasons. Christopher had joked that Hargroves were “above the law...because we can afford to be.” Though Heather lacked specific details, she knew her father-in-law’s criminal activities weren’t limited to bribing his way out of traffic tickets.
Not that I can prove it.
“I can’t go back,” she finally said. “They have unlimited funds and a lawyer who makes great white sharks look cuddly in comparison.” From things she’d overheard during her marriage, Phillip Hargrove might also have judges and state officials in his back pocket.
“You mentioned funds.” Bryce peered at her through his wire-rim glasses, his concern unmistakable. “Need a loan?”
She rose, crossing to the expensive ottoman to hug him. “You are a prince. Why couldn’t I have fallen for you in college?” She’d been nineteen and vastly inexperienced with men when she’d met Christopher at a museum near campus.
“A diligent scholarship student like you with a wastrel like me? Pshaw. You couldn’t have been expected to put up with this.” He gestured toward the cluttered tabletop and the magazines now scattered haphazardly on the unvacuumed carpet. “It would be an affront to your artistic sensibilities. Now stop trying to change the subject, and tell me if you need money.”
“No. At least, not yet. If I’m careful.” When she’d first considered leaving Christopher, she’d begun quietly squirreling away cash. It had taken her a long time to work up the courage. She’d later supplemented her new bank account by selling jewelry. She’d realized she might have to pay for a contentious divorce, but at the end of the day, despite his faults, she’d known Christopher loved Josie. She’d prayed that would guide him to some reasonable decisions.
Eileen and Phillip Hargrove didn’t love anyone. They saw Josie, the only child of their only child, as the Hargrove heir, belonging to them by rights—as much a possession as Eileen’s BMW or Phillip’s Jag.
“What I need—” Heather sighed “—is a plan. Other than hauling ass toward the Mexican border.”
“With customs security checkpoints? Definitely not the direction you want to head if there’s possibly a warrant out for you.” His forehead crinkled in concentration. “I might know a place you can go. Ever been to the hill country? I have a cousin in Fredericksburg.”
“It’s bad enough I imposed on you,” she said, not following his train of thought. “I can’t show up on your cousin’s doorstep.”
“You can if she’s not home.” He was starting to look excited, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “My cousin Kelsey is married to a guy in the military. He’s been overseas a lot but now he’s got a six-month assignment in Alaska. She’s going to join him, and I arranged for a friend to house-sit. All the regular bills are set for automatic drafts out of Kelsey’s bank account. As long as you’ve got cash for stuff like groceries, you and Little Red would be set. It’s perfect!”
“I don’t understand. What about your friend who already agreed to do it?”
“She’ll be inconvenienced when I tell her Kelsey’s changed her mind. And a little peeved,” he admitted. “But I’ll make sure she lands on her feet. You have a hell of a lot more at stake, Heather.”
She was all too aware of the high stakes. To keep the panic at bay, she tried to lighten the moment. “Heather, huh? I think that’s the first time you’ve ever called me anything but ‘Red.’”
“About that.” He tilted his head, considering. “You stan
d out with that hair color. Ever thought about going brunette?”
She pressed her fingertips to her eyes. “Not until just now. I’m new at this whole fugitive thing.”
“Different hair would help. So would different names. I can assist you there.”
She glanced up, startled. “There’s a limit to what I’ll let you do for me.” Even as she said the words, she prayed they were true. How much risk would she let a friend take if it meant protecting her daughter?
“I didn’t mean like create new social security numbers for you or falsify a passport,” he clarified. “This isn’t a Bourne movie. But I might know someone who, uh, dabbles in fake IDs. It would have an upcoming expiration date because the new ones are too hard to copy and it probably wouldn’t fool a professional beyond a quick glimpse, but it’s a start.”
Counterfeit identification and lying about who she was? Bryce’s intentions were good, but did she dare continue on this path? Then again... She cast one more anxious glance in Josie’s direction. How could she dare not take Bryce’s help?
Chapter Two
“You haven’t said anything since we left the steak house.” Stupid. Since when was Sergeant Zane Winchester reduced to stating the obvious? His razor-sharp instincts had helped solve cold cases and take down crooked politicians. Colleagues sought his input because he was known for having a quick mind, but a few hours in his teenage daughter’s company made him feel like an inept rookie fumbling with a gun for the first time, capable of shooting himself in the foot with one stray word.
Eden glared from the passenger seat of the truck. “What do you want me to say? Thanks for ruining the first nice time I was having since I got shipped to this godforsaken town?”
There were so many things wrong with her retort that he didn’t know where to begin. My fault. Too out of practice. He hadn’t tried hard enough to keep a close bond with her while she and his ex, Valerie, lived in California. Eden didn’t let an hour pass without reminding him that she hated her parents’ decision to relocate her. She saw her mother as selfish for ditching her, and she clearly viewed Zane more as prison warden than father.