His Baby Bonus
His Baby Bonus
Laura Marie Altom
The Way To A Man's Heart?Ms. Grade Sherwoodeight months pregnant and counting!is on the run from her mobster ex-husband and the U.S. Marshals who are supposed to be protecting her. No one is going to keep Gracie from winning the Culinary Art Invitational cooking competitionher one chance at making a fresh start for her and the baby.After a close call, U.S. Marshal Beauregard Logue finally convinces Gracie to stay close to himwhich basically means he's become her personal taster! Gracie has to stay focused on the contest, and on her pregnancy, but it's hard to concentrate with a big handsome marshal asking her for seconds.Gracie's falling for Beau, but have those feelings grown out of love or out of fear? And is this marshal willing to take on
The United States Marshals Service
Formed in 1789 by President George Washington, the United States Marshals Service is the oldest federal law enforcement agencyand in my mind, one of the most mysterious. They used to carry out death sentences, catch counterfeiterseven take the national census. According to their Web site, At virtually every significant point over the years where Constitutional principles or the force of law have been challenged, the marshals were thereand they prevailed. Now the agency primarily focuses on fugitive investigation, prisoner/alien transportation, prisoner management, court security and witness security.
No big mystery there, you say? When I started this series, I didnt think so, either. Intending to nail the details, I marched down to my local marshals office for an afternoon that will stay with me forever.
After learning the agencys history and being briefed on day-to-day operations, I was taken on a tour. I saw an impressive courtroom and a prisoner holding cell. Then we went to the garage to see vehicles and bulletproof vests and guns. Sure, Im an author, but Im primarily a mom and wife. I bake cookies and find hubbys always-lost belt. Nothing made the U.S. Marshals Service spring to life for me more than seeing those weapons. And then I realized my tour guide wasnt fictional. He used those guns, put his very life on the line protecting me and my family and the rest of this city, county and state. I had chills.
Things really got interesting when I started digging for information on the Witness Security Program. Deputy Marshal Rick ever so politely sidestepped my every question. I found out nothing! Not where the base of operations is located, not which marshals are assigned to the program, what size crews are used, how their shifts are rotatednothing! After a while it got to be a game. One it was obvious Id lose!
Honestly, all this mystery probably makes for better fiction. I dont want to know what really happens. Its probably not half as romantic as the images of these great protectors Ive conjured in my mind. Ohand another bonus to my tourDeputy Marshal Rick was Harlequin American Romancehero hot!
Laura Altom
Dear Reader,
In case you couldnt already tell, Im fascinated by the United States Marshals Service! Their Web site is wonderful, full of all sorts of interesting facts (www.usdoj.gov/marshals/index.html). Some of my favorite pages detail marshal-led sting operations. These guys are not only brave and strong, but funny!
One of the most elaborate stings involved free tickets to a Washington Redskins home football game against the Cincinnati Bengals. The fugitives, wanted by authorities for a variety of criminal offenses, willingly gathered at the D.C. Convention Center in response to invitations sent by the Marshals Service to the last known addresses of more than 3,000 wanted persons with more than 5,000 outstanding warrants. There are some super pics on the site, one of which features a pair of fugitives hamming it up with, unbeknownst to them, a U.S. Marshal dressed in a chicken suit!
Hoping any contests you win are the real deal,
Laura Marie
P.S. You can reach me through my Web site at
www.lauramariealtom.com (http://www.lauramariealtom.com) or write me at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101.
His Baby Bonus
Laura Marie Altom
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For United States Marshal Timothy D. Welch and Deputy U.S. Marshal Rick Holden. Thank you for the incredible tour of Tulsas marshals office, and for patiently answering my gazillion questions! Any technical errors are all mine!
And for sweet Edna Welch in the Nimitz Middle School Library, who so tirelessly helps me find all those spy, police and fairy-tale books.
Thank you for all your hugs and smiles!
Books by Laura Marie Altom
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
940BLIND LUCK BRIDE
976INHERITED: ONE BABY!
1028BABIES AND BADGES
1043SANTA BABY
1074TEMPORARY DAD
1086SAVING JOE* (#litres_trial_promo)
1099MARRYING THE MARSHAL* (#litres_trial_promo)
Contents
Chapter One (#ub6b7a9a9-14f8-5178-9a79-5f55277c227a)
Chapter Two (#ufbad4cd5-b5f5-5170-96d3-015b81b03974)
Chapter Three (#u8d7fba91-5360-5e99-bf70-c401b2408571)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Bam!
The storage room door slammed shut, drowning Deputy U.S. Marshal BeauregardBeauLogue in inky blackness.
Ms. Sherwood? he called out, adrenaline pumping and body on full alert as a pathetically weak overhead bulb blinked on. You all right?
Nothing.
Not giving a damn what happened to the wine-glasses hed been hauling for the petite, nearly eight months pregnant, proverbial Georgia peach, Beau dumped them clinking to his feet, then scrambled for the exit.
Ms. Sherwood, talk to me! Hand on the doorknob, shoulder bearing down on the door, Beau shoved with all his might, but it didnt budge. Someone had to have deliberately blocked it. Ms. Sherwood? Gracie?
Still nothing.
Not even a frick-frackin mouse squeak.
And wouldnt you know it, hed left his handheld radio in the restaurants main dining room. Hadnt even felt the need for his headset, seeing how the operation thus far had been smooth.
Now what?
Had Chef Gracies escapee ex-husband gotten to her? A couple of his hired guns? Was she sick? Passed out? Shed seemed fine just a second ago, but he knew from bitter experience pregnant women had issues.
Beau again rammed the door with his shoulder, but all he got for his efforts was crazy, red-hot pain.
Okay, think, man. Think. Hands braced on his hips, hed kept his head for all of two seconds when he tried punching the door. The only thing that netted was hurt knuckles, so he switched to Plan Bwhich pretty much consisted of a helluva lot of hollering.
Yo, Mason! Mulgrave! Wolcheck! Anyone out there?
No response. He moved on to Plan C.
The building was in the heart of Fort McKenzies historic Gas Light District, meaning the restaurant occupied three older structures that used to be row houses in the trendy mountain town just an hours commute to Portland, Oregon. The result was a hodgepodge of too narrow rooms and passages thatd no doubt barely passed city inspections.
All closed up like the place was, the air on this uncharacteristically hot mid-August Tuesday morning was sticky. Smelled like the moldy sneakers he used for mowing his fixer-upper houses lawn.
Eyeing a putty knife on a shelf lined with grimy tools, he used it to wedge up and under the doors hinge pins. The top one popped right off. The second was rusty, but with teeth gritted, he worked that one free, as well. Beau managed to keep the heavy door steady long enough to lift it out of his way and lean it against the nearest shelves.
From his shoulder holster, he pulled his gun, readying it for whatever awaited behind the newly liberated door that, sure enough, someone had padlocked a steel bar in front of.
He ducked under it.
In the now dark hall, he wasnt sure what to expectsure as hell not a convenient bread crumb trailbut what he got was exactly squat. He made a quick sweep of the area but found not so much as a long, blond hair for a clue.
For all practical purposes, Gracie Sherwood had vanished.
Not only did that tick Beau off because he took his job of protecting witnesses very seriously, but also hed taken an instant liking to Ms. Sherwood. She was sweet, brave, defenseless. Reminded him of his good friend and fellow marshal Chance Mulgraves wife whod had it rough when her first husband had been killed right about the time shed discovered she was pregnant.
With slumped shoulders, Beau made the long walk out to join the rest of his crew, radioing for the two guys patrolling the buildings side and rear to come up front.
Dont suppose any of you have seen Ms. Sherwood? he asked once all were assembled.
Villetti chuckled. Youre kidding, right?
Jaw clenched, Beau sighed. It look like Im kidding? Mason, Wolcheck, do me a favor and check the garage down the street for her car.
Five minutes later, the two guys were back.
Gracie Sherwoods car wasnt there.
What did it mean? Someone took her in her own vehicle?
Beaus stomach clenched.
Sure, it was possible, but more likely, for whatever oddball reason, hed been duped. Shed used her Southern charm and curls to lure him into the storage closet. Shed locked him in, then taken off. But why? What did she know that he didnt that had her running? Was she joining her husband? Or running scared from him and thinking shed be safer on her own?
So what happened? his younger brother Adam asked. Hear signs of a struggle?
Not a peep.
Whatre you gonna do? Bug, Adams best bud and the only woman on the team, asked. This was a mighty high profile case for the boss. He finds out youre the one who misplaced her, well She finished her sentence with a low whistle that pretty much said it all.
No matter the cost, no matter where the hunt took him, Beau had to get Gracie Sherwood backnow. Not just for her, but himself. Hed already lost one pregnant woman. No way would he lose another.
FIFTEEN MINUTES after making her big escape, Gracie Sherwoodshed long ago ditched her married name of Delgado in favor of her maiden surnamepulled her whale of a vintage pink Caddie convertible up to a convenience store gas pump. While her car guzzled gas, she counted moneyor rather, her lack thereof: $184.32.
Not good, especially considering the cost of this one fill-up. Still, the $150 in the restaurant safe had been all she could get her hands on. The $34.32 all that was left of Vicentes now frozen assets. Not that shed even want to spend a dime more of his money, but in this case, it wouldve at least been nice to have the option.
Inside, she made a quick trek to the ladies room, paid for the fuel, a pack of mini powdered-sugar doughnuts, a banana and jug of OJ, then climbed back behind the wheel.
She tried finding a decent radio station, but this far out of Portland, got nothing but static. A week earlier, some punk had broken her cars antennae. The final nail in the coffin of a particularly rotten year.
Finding out the sophisticated, articulate, Harvard-educated Bolivian shed fallen wildly in love with had in fact been up to his neck in the kinds of dirty dealing she couldnt even begin to comprehend had been hard to take. Whatd happened after that nearly destroyed her.
Muggy, hot summer wind in her hair, she focused on the winding mountain road. Gracie ignored the latest lump in her throat and tightened her grip on the wheel.
With Vicente behind bars, shed thought shed been safeat least until a month from now when her testimony wouldve forced her to face him at the trial. Lucky for her, shed been the one to find his business log, onto the pages of which hed meticulously recorded each illegitimate business dealing hed been involved in. Everything from drug dealing to illegal importing to murder. All carefully documented in the event hed ever needed to blackmail one of his associates. His ego was the size of Vermont, so knowing Vicente, hed never even imagined it being foundlet alone, used against him.
Although she was a week shy of eight months pregnant, she was now on her way to the Culinary Arts Invitational, held in just under two weeks in San Francisco. After she won the competition, Gracie planned on heading to her parents home in Deerwood, Georgia.
As a master chef, shed worked her whole life for this. Before finding out about Vicente, the hundred grand in prize money wouldve merely been icing on the cake of what shed mistakenly believed had been her already fantastic life. Now that the restaurant shed nurtured into a lucrative business had been closed due to nonexistent profits, since news about Vicentes dirty dealings had become public, the prize represented a second chance for her and her baby.
When shed gotten the news Vicente had escaped, and that word on the streetaccording to Portland policewas that he was coming for her, at first she hadnt believed it.
But then, why not? she thought with a bitter laugh. The man had already committed an unspeakable crime against her. Why not finish her off?
After narrowly avoiding being abducted at gunpoint one afternoon while walking her neighborhood park, Gracie had gone back to the police, whod turned her over to the U.S. Marshals Witness Security Program.
Shed tried explaining to police about the competition soon to be held in San Francisco, how she had to be there, that it was the only way shed ever get enough cash to start a new restaurant and life. But theyd said simply, no. She was too valuable a witness to let go.
A witness.
Thats all she was to these guys.
They didnt see the pain shed been through. The pain she was still working through. They didnt see the innocent baby girl shed have to diaper with newspapers if she didnt win the top CAI prize. Yes, her parents would help best they could, but seeing how they were retired, it wasnt like they had a money tree shading their backyard.
Lucky for Gracie, the marshals whod been sent to protect her had been even more chauvinistic, and thus easier to escape, than her husbands thugs.
She was sorry for having locked the nice one in the storage closet, but really, what else could she have done? From here on out, the nice marshalalong with the rest of his crewwere the enemy in the most important battle shed ever fight.
The battle to regain her life. Her normalcy.
For many women, she supposed discovering their husband was a murdering psycho would probably ruin them. What happened after that
No. It was in the past. Never to be spoken or thought of again. What was done was done, and she wasnt willing to become a slave to one horrific night.
Gracie had wanted to be a mother since she was three years old, playing with her Burp and Boo Betty doll. Shed dreamed of winning CAIs competition ever since her graduation from the prestigious Western Culinary Institute. With two such cherished goals on the line, no oneespecially not some clueless marshalwas going to bring her down.
From here on out, she would take nice, deep breaths. Dream of holding her baby girl in her arms in the kitchen of the new restaurant the prize money would help start. In short, life would finally get back to normal.
Normal. The word had such a melodic sound. In a life led in Normalville, husbands didnt do what hers had. They didnt go to prison and then escape. They didnt want to kill pregnant wives.
MmmGracie liked Normalville. Much preferred to her past locale of Chaosville. So she raised her face to the sun, pasted on a bright smile and reveled in the first unhurried, carefree moments of her and her babys new lives.
YOU SEEN HER? Beau asked the clerk at the third convenience store hed stopped at along Highway 26, the only route leading east or west out of Fort McKenzie. Other deputy marshals covered less traveled roads. Hed chosen this one for himself because if by chance Ms. Sherwood had gotten it in that pretty head of hers that shed wanted to go for a nice drive home to Georgiawithout her security detailthen by God, hed be the one to give her a good talking to. The woman wasnt only putting her life at risk, but her babys.
People who crossed Vicente Delgado died.
It was that simple.
His gut told him Gracie was too smart to have gone back to hubby, which, after a quick look at her file, only left a couple other options. There was some cooking thing shed told Portland PD she wanted to compete in, but after having been shot at, surely even shed seen how attending such a well-publicized event was a bad idea. She had family in Georgia. But why would she want to drive all that way? No doubt it had something to do with her pregnancy. Best he could remember, women about to pop werent supposed to fly, right?
The paunchy, graying Caucasian male manning the convenience store counter took the photo, eyed it a good fifteen seconds, then tapped it. You know, I think I have seen her. Maybe an hour ago she got gas, then bought OJ and those little powdered sugar doughnuts. I remember cause the combination wouldve sent me to the ER with heartburn.
Excellent, Beau said, snatching back the picture. You see which way she went?
She definitely turned that pink tank of hers west.
West? Beau rubbed his throbbing forehead. Sighed.
Had she decided to go to that cooking thing after all? And if so, why? What didnt the woman get about psycho exes and crowds being a bad combination?
Well, soon as he caught up with her, hed give her an education in both. Lucky for her, bad news exes were his specialty.
Climbing back in his SUV, grabbing Ray-Ban Aviators from the dash and slipping them on, he couldnt help but wonder what was it with him and women?
When it came to judging guys, he could sniff a whack job from eighty miles back. Throw in a hot female, and his radar went haywire. Not that preggers Gracie Sherwood was either a whack job or hotat least not in the conventional sense. But she was cute. And Lord knew, as in the case of his cheating ex-wife, cute had its own set of pitfalls.
Initially, when Gracie had first split, hed been a little out of his mind. There. Hed admitted it. But he was stronger now. Her taking off wasnt anything like what had happened with Ingrid. Not even remotely. It was job stress making him crazy, linking everything into one big jumbo mess in his head. Time was all he needed to work through it. Everyone he knew agreed.
Now, all he had to do was convince himself.
MAAM? Beau said to the waitress whod just set a juicy double cheeseburger and fries on Gracies table. Gracie was in the rest room. It was lunchtime at I-5, exit 282about thirty minutes south of sweltering, traffic-clogged Portland. And while Beau was thrilled about having spotted Gracies pink whale in the truck stop lot, then blocking her car in with his SUV, he was more thrilled about landing a burger. Mind bringing me the same?
Sure, she said, giving him a funny look while he slid into the turquoise vinyl booth.
Extra mayo and grilled onions, please.
You got it.
In the meantime, Beau helped himself to Gracies fries. Lucky for him, shed chosen a lonely corner, away from the obnoxious pop blaring on the jukebox, out of the line of sight of anyone walking through the front door or on their way back from the john. Expecting Gracie to pounce the second she caught sight of him, Beau continued downing her fries, but remained on alert.
A few minutes later, she rounded the corner and gasped. Whatre you
By the time Gracie had even realized whatd happened, a marshalthat nice onestood, nudged her into the booth, then sat beside her, pinning her in. Howdy, he said in his best Southern twang. How yall doin?
Let me go, she snarled from between clenched teeth. Or so help me, Ill scream so loud every redneck in this jointll tear you to pieces.
Good, Beau said, helping himself to another fry. Then after that, theyll no doubt be happy to tackle the other guys after you.
What other guys?
Four goons your hubby hired. Yesterday afternoon, a friend of mine from Portland PD gave me a tip. We found out that with the bulk of his pals still behind bars, your ex assembled a new crew to take you out. Which is why my boss feels a sense of urgency about getting you back under our protection.
Right, Gracie said, snatching her plate from him, then wolfing down a fry. Oh, personal experience taught her Vicente was a man to be feared, but he wasnt superhuman. She wasnt using a credit card or cell phone, so as far as she knew, she couldnt be traced. As for how this marshal ended up finding her, shed chalk that up to pure, dumb luck. Shed told police her plans to compete in San Francisco, and he no doubt assumed shed be on I-5the most direct route.
Mistake Number One.
From here on out, shed stick solely to back roads.
After all, this close to obtaining her most cherished dreams of becoming a mother and winning the world renowned CAI competition, she wasnt about to do something stupid like put her life at risk.
Yes, Vicente no doubt knew that she would attend the Culinary Olympics, but come on, the man was a prison escapee. He was also brilliant. Meaning, he wouldnt risk freedom by showing up at one of the most publicized events in the culinary world.
Wishing for her own wafer-thin, home cooked potato chips accompanied by a nice, mellow dill dip, a turkey burger and side of pasta salad, Gracie instead made lemonade from the lemons of her life by grabbing for the ketchup bottle. But it was new, and the lid wouldnt budge.
The marshal calmly took the bottle from her, easily twisting off the top. It made a cheerful little pop.
Glaring at him, choosing to ignore the supercharged hum thatd passed between them when their hands brushed, Gracie took the bottle back, giving it a good, hard shake. She was just about to reach for her knife to stick it inside, when he took the bottle again, thumping the side and bottom with the heel of his hand.
Once a thick, red river of ketchup pooled on her plate, he calmly put the lid on the bottle, then reached past her to set it alongside a squeeze mustard bottle, sugar and napkins.
I couldve done that, she said, blocking his all-male scent of leather and cars and some other intriguing something she couldnt begin to identify, but had the craziest urge to explore. Im a chef. I have my own ketchup trick.
Did I say you couldnt have done it?
No, but your tone implied it.
What tone?
That one, she said, plucking pickles from her burger. You used it just now. It plainly said you think Im incompetent, and that I need a big, strong man to look after me and make my ketchup come out. But you know what? I made it this far on my own, and Startled, she jumped.
Here you go, the waitress said, having caught Gracie off guard when shed abruptly rounded the corner. She set a plate loaded with another burger and fries on the table. Need anything else?
No, thank you, Gracie said. Why, oh why, when shed flinched, hadnt she headed for the wall instead of her assigned marshal? Who actually, now that shed gotten a better look at him, was disturbingly hot. The whole right side of her body still tingled.
But there were no tingles in Normalville! Especially when she had no want nor need for any men in her lifelet alone hot ones!
Actually, the marshal said to the waitress, I wouldnt mind a Coke when you get a second.
Be right back. On her return trip to the kitchen, the rail-thin redhead sang along with the jukebox.
Mind passing the ketchup? the marshal asked.
I know what youre thinking, Gracie said, careful to set the stupid bottle in front of him, rather than risk another touching encounter by passing it directly into his waiting hand. How if Im skitterish enough to jump when a waitress comes around, that I must be a real head case. But Ill have you know I didnt flinch just a second ago because I was scared or nervous or anything. Flinching is a natural reaction often encountered during the latter stages of a womans third trimester.
Uh-huh, he said before taking a bite of his burger.
You dont believe me?
He just sat there chewing.
She cut her burger in half, then took a bite, only to wince before swallowing. I cant eat this, she said.
Why?
Its cold. I dont usually eat foods like Making a face, she waved at the offensive burger. Plus, I have a texture issue about cold grease. Feels funny on my tongue.
Take mine, he said, switching plates. Its still good and hot.
I couldnt, she said.
Afraid Ive got cooties? Want me to cut off the part where I bit?
Of course not, she said. And to prove it, she took a bite right beside his, only to then wish shed have just stuck with her own cold burger.
The slow grin he cast her way made a mess of her earlier assumption that the man was her enemy. How long had it been since someone was truly nice to her? Sacrifice-his-own-hot-burger nice? A while. But that didnt mean now she should suddenly go soft.
If she let this marshal take her back to Portland, shed be stuck in some so-called safe house for who knew how long before Vicentes case went to trial. Seeing how now that hed vanished, he couldnt exactly be put on the stand. Her chance for winning the CAIs prize would be gone, along with her and her baby girls future.
Keeping this in mind, she concentrated on finishing her marshals burger and planning a new escape. Shed tried living in Chaosville and found it not to her liking.
Hate to interrupt you, she said while he downed the last of her burger. But Ive got to go to the bathroom.
Again? He sighed.
Sorry. She flashed him her brightest smile. Another pregnancy thing.
Its okay, he said, sliding out of the booth. But just in case youre thinking of trying anything, Im going with you. Not only are you a key witness, but whether you want to acknowledge it or not, youre in danger.
Thats just plain silly, she said, thickening her accent. Vicente would nevuh really hurt me. And now that youve found me, where could I possibly go? Now, be a good boy and please hand me my purse.
He cautiously did as shed asked.
Thank you. I wont be but a second.
Thats mighty considerate of you, darlin, but just in case you get a hankering to take another drive, how about leaving me your keys?
Y-you cant be serious, she said. After hearing about those other men trailing me, you honestly think Id willingly leave your side?
Keys. He held out his hand, wagged his fingers.
With a huffy sigh, she dug through her purse, handing them to him.
Thanks.
Youre not welcome.
While Gracie headed for the ladies room, Beau sat on the opposite side of the booth so he could have a better view. He chuckled to recall the expression on her face when hed asked for her keys. Boy, hed really caught her off guard with that one. Of course shed been planning another escape. Running straight for that cooking thing.
Seeing her, being near her, brought to mind memories of how things had been with Ingrid. The luminescence of pending motherhood. The luster of her hair. The rattler-type snap when coming between her and her food. How long had it been since hed recalled happy memories about that time?
Still grinning, Beau shook his head.
The waitress approached. Need any pie?
You know, Beau said, thatd really hit the spot. Got anything chocolate?
Chocolate cream guaranteed to curl your toes.
In that case, he said with a wink. Better get two. My friend doesnt like to share.
She laughed. When it comes to pie, I dont blame her.
The pie came, and in Beaus case, went. The waitress had been rightit was damned good.
He eyed the bathroom. Gracie had been in there awhile. Should he call the waitress back over and ask her to check on his Southern belle?
He did just that.
And when the redhead returned with a funny look, telling him the ladies room was empty, if Beau had had three legs he wouldve kicked himself all the way back to Portland. How could he be so gullible?
How could Ms. Sherwood be so dumb?
He had her keys, so that left her sneaking away sometime during the thirty seconds in which hed wolfed down his pie, then hitching a ride with a stranger. Surely he came across as more trustworthy than some of the scary-looking characters around here?
Leaving a twenty and ten on the table, Beau headed outside, shading his eyes against blinding sun.
Heat hovered in undulating waves above the blacktop. Not the best weather for a pregnant lady to be out hitching a ride.
The lot looked quiet. Three semis. Two off, one with the engine idling, stinking up the place with diesel exhaust. An assortment of eleven passenger cars lined the restaurants front. Two more passenger cars were filling up at covered gas tanks. On the access road running alongside I-5, a silver minivan whizzed by.
Beau looked to his own vehicle, to the big, pink Caddie, hed blocked
What the?
Gracies car was gone. The bushes in front of it flattened. His SUVs grill all busted to hell. Shed even stabbed his drivers side front tire. He knew it had been her because of the pink-handled metal nail file still stuck in the rubber.
When had she given him the slip? While hed ordered pie? Common sense told him the bathrooms location meant it was an interior room with only one exit. How was it a chirpy blonde who had tongue issues with cold grease had so effortlessly gotten away from him not once, but twice?
And how long was it going to take for him to get his tire patched so he could once and for all teach Gracie Sherwood who was boss?
More importantly, how long until he finally got it through his head that just because Gracie was pregnant, that didnt mean he owed her special favors. Hed bent over backward trying to be kind to his wife, and look where thatd left him. He still hadnt been able to right the wrong between them. The even sadder truth was that even if hed wanted to, there was nothing he couldve done.
Chapter Two
Listen up, Beau said to Gracie through a still chain-locked door, six frick-frackin hours later, standing on the covered porch of a kitschy, roadside motel just south of Oregons Bandon State Park. Surrounded by a brooding fir forest, the brown and gray strip motel with plywood castle towers on either end and a moat-shaped pool with more moss than water looked like some Brothers Grimm fairy tale gone wrong.
It was only seven at night, yet in the shadows, felt more like midnight.
Gracie had parked her pink Caddie in front of her room.
Odds were, Beau never wouldve found her without a tip from a local cop whod spotted her car. The man had offered his assistance in bringing Gracie in, but after her latest slip, for Beau anyway, this case had gotten personal. Or maybe it had always been personal, he thought, swiping his fingers through his hair.
Seeing how the rest of the crew was scattered at least a hundred miles in all different directions, looked like he had the good fortune to be bringing Ms. Sherwood in all by himself. Its time you learned whos leading this mission. There are a lot of things Ill put up with, but this hide-and-seek games getting old, and What was that funny noise?
Was she crying?
Oh, man, if his momma had still been alive to see this, shed thump him upside his head. His dad still could, for making this little bitty pregnant thing sob.
Ingrid never once cried. Not during the entirety of her cruelly sterile speech.
T-thats sowait, Gracie said, noisily unhooking the chain. I cant even speak. Whatever kind of girly cry she had going, it grew steadily worse until Beau felt two inches tall. On his list of things he didnt do, making women cry was at the top. Oh my gosh, youre funny. Thanks. I havent had a belly laugh like that inwell, since never. At least not in the recent past.
Funny? She called that donkey braying laughter? At his expense?
Door open, he brushed past her and stormed into the room, wanting for some unfathomable reason to be put off by peeling, smoke-stained wallpaper and the busted-tile bathroom usually indicative of this sort of hole-in-the-wall establishment. What he got was a scene from Southern LivingMTV style.
Shed draped silky-looking scarves over lamps, lending the place an exotic glow. The germy motel bedspread had been replaced with faux fur. Mink? On top of that were a half-dozen pillows, all embroidered with quirky sayings like, Woman cannot live on chocolate aloneShe needs shopping, too!
As if all of that wasnt enough, the smell wasfantastic? Some heavenly concoction simmering on a two-burner kitchenette stove sent his ravenous stomach into a growling fit. Too bad he was here to drag her back to Portland and not to eat!
You haul all of this stuff around with you? he asked.
Stepping inside, Gracie shut the door. His one question turned her smile upside down. This stuff, my cooking gear and a few clothes were all I brought into my marriage, so thats all I took when it was over.
Sure, he said with a nod.
Sure? She shook her head. I tell you my life is over, and thats all you have to say?
Shed paraded spicy-smelling candles across the top of the TV, and he sliced his finger through the flames. Sorry. But that doesnt change the fact that youre returning to Portland with me. Now.
No.
Excuse me?
Im exhausted. Ive been driving all day. I still have a couple more sauce variations to try tonight. If you insist on dragging me back, Ill go peaceablybut in the morning.
Fair enough, he said, but was he a fool for taking her at her word?
Suddenly, standing there, looking at her, there wasnt enough air in the room. Her candles and the rich sauce were eating it all.
The size of her stomach and glow of her skin were similar to Ingrids, but thats where the resemblance ended. Ingrid had been out for Ingrid. Period. But Gracie, this drive of hers to win a contest was all for the sake of her babyso that he or she could live a better life. A safer life. Beau admired the hell out of her. And wanted to know more about her than the bland fare found in her file.
If you have to stay, she said, you might as well make yourself at home. She was back in the tiny yet workable kitchen, dumping pasta shed had bubbling on the back burner into a colander shed already set in the sink. The TV only gets five channels, but I guess thats better than nothing.
He shrugged.
Had she always been so pretty? Had so many curls? Shed cupped her hands to her big belly, cast him a half grin that lit her whole face. He wanted to stay mad at her, but she was like a too cute kittenonly she wasnt a cat, but a woman. Had she been a cat, he wouldve just played with her. Stroked her fur and scratched behind her ears. Just thinking about what Gracie would do to him if he tried either of those activities made him smile.
His ex had been hard as nails. No petting allowed.
Mind letting me in on the joke? she asked, glancing over her shoulder while giving her brew a stir.
Nah. But thanks for asking. He winked.
She frowned. Fine. Dont tell me. Back to stirring, she hummed a soft, nonsensical tune.
I wont.
Why do you have to be so obstinate? she asked, wiping her hands on an industrial-type white apron, then crossing the room to switch on the TV with a remote.
Wasnt aware I was being anything.
Youre obviously uptight, she said, switching past news, Wheel of Fortune and an infomercial, finally landing on a black and white movie. What you need is a good meal. A nice bottle of wine. Youre all cranked up inside.
Cranked up?
Yeah, you know, stressed out. Uptight. At the very least, have a seat, or else its going to be a very long night.
Already has been, he said, turning his back on her to peer behind curtains. All quiet save for his erratic pulse. If they were staying the night, hed feel better if the cars were parked in back, out of casual sight. Odds were Vicentes goons were miles from here, but better safe than sorry.
Anything exciting going on? she asked from her perch on the foot of the bed. Parades? A tailgate party?
Give me your keys, he said. This time, your car keys.
Oops, she said with a big, cheesy grin. Im bad.
Yes, you are, he said. So give me both sets.
Id be happy to if youd be so kind as to hand me my purse.
He did, and she took her time fishing through the jangling contents, eventually catching two sets of keys, just as hed requested.
Here you go. She dangled them.
Finally some cooperation out of the woman.
Just one more thing, he said. Hate doing this, but in your case, it has to be.
From his jeans back pocket, he withdrew cuffs.
Oh, no, she said, scrambling back into the pillow pile. No way youre cuffing me. I have to keep stirring my sauce. And anyway, I havent done anything wrong.
Are you kidding me? Youve done everything wrong. Before she escaped again, he cuffed her left wrist, then secured the free cuff to the wall-mounted lamp. He hated doing this, hated using such a flimsy hold. Had she been a manhell, if she hadnt been so pregnant and vulnerable lookinghe wouldnt have thought twice about forcing her under the open kitchen sink counter to secure her to the pipes.
I have every intention of testifying at my ex-husbands trial, she said. But until then, Ive got things to do. All I did in running from you was fight for my right to live life on my own terms. Is that so bad?
It is when youre putting that life at risk. Now, sit tight for about three minutes, then Ill free you. Look, he said, turning for the stove. To prove Im a nice guy, Ill even turn off the burner so whatever youre cooking doesnt burn.
Lucky me, she said with a wag of her cuffed wrist. Here I dont even know your name and youre already handy in the kitchen and getting kinky in bed.
For the record, he said at the door, I can get a lot kinkier than this. And the name is Beauregard Logue. Friends call me Beau.
That mean were friends? she asked with a hopeful smile.
You can call me, Mister Logue.
No, Gracie said under her breath not five seconds after the beast strolled out the door. Ill call you out of my life.
Easing upright, she used her free hand to turn off the lamp, unscrew the finial and remove the shade.
Ouch! The bulb was hottook forever to get out seeing how she had to keep stopping for wince breaks. After yanking out the harp, freeing herself was a simple matter of lifting her arm eight inches.
Peering through the doors peephole, she watched Marshal Beau drive around back.
Once he was out of sight, she flew into action. Running out the front door to her car, then grabbing the spare key from the magnetic box she kept under the drivers side wheel wellshe was awful about locking her keys in the car.
Now came the tricky part. Sure, she could head right back out on the road, but shed be caught faster than she got gas after eating broccoli.
No, this time, shed have to be more creative. And so instead of turning south on the highway, she turned north, pulling her car into an abandoned junkyard, camouflaging the pink in a sea of rust and primer gray. Thick, conifer-scented woods circled the cars, and in midday, she was sure the place had a quaint feel, but at the moment, she had a major case of the creeps.
She waited an hour in muggy dusk, the whole time swatting at whiny bugs until her entire body felt coated with grit and mosquito bites. Until dust and dirt ground between her teeth and she tasted it on her tongue. Only then, in rapidly fading daylight, did she figure it was safe to return to the motel for her stuff. Certainly Marshal Beau was long gone.
Everything that meant anything to her was in that room. Photos and diaries and recipes. Pricey pans and accoutrements. A few pieces of jewelry she hoped to pawn for the cash shed need to get her the rest of the way to San Francisco. From there, her hotel room was prepaid, and with luck, shed have the prize money to get her home.
She parked around back, trudged up to the front desk for another key, explaining to the clerk that shed locked the first one in the room.
By the time she slipped the key into the lock, Gracie was beyond tired. Her feet were swollen, her lower back aching, and she could really have gone for a Caesar chicken salad and French onion soup. As for her cream sauce experiments, all she could do at this point was toss it all and start fresh wherever she stopped tomorrow.
In the room, she headed straight for the bathroom sink. It would take ten days to scrub all the junkyard grime from her face. She brushed her teeth, too. She needed a shower, but the mere thought seemed too energetic.
After securing her long mess of naturally curly hair in a scrunchie, she slipped off her shoes and headed for bed. Surely shed feel better after a nice, long snooze?
Only after turning around and getting her first good look at the bed, she found that not only was her fuzzy faux-mink spread missing, but also the scarves shed put over the lamps and her pillows andshe stormed to the bathroom. Hed even taken her ultra-fluffy pink towels and no, even he wouldnt have sunk that low
Running for the suitcase shed stashed in a small closet, she yanked open the door and couldnt have felt lower if the man had socked her in the stomach.
Shoulders sagging, the tears shed been too stubborn to shed since the start of this whole ordeal finally spilled.
Her recipes.
The creep had taken her recipesnot only that, but also all of her cooking gear.
The CAI contest was unique in that you couldnt fully prepare before arrival. There were one hundred and ninety-three chefs, each representing the globes countriesunlike the U.S., the CAI recognized Taiwan. In each of five rounds, the ethnic theme of her meals was determined by luck of the draw. She could draw Ethiopia. India. Greenland. In her recipe journal was years of research. Without it, she might as well not even go to San Francisco. What was the point when she didnt have a prayer of winning?
Jeez, her back hurt. And now, her head and heart.
Why had Marshal Beau done this?
How could he be so cruel?
She sat hard on the foot of the bed, cradling her forehead in her hands.
Who was she trying to kid? Vicentes capture had been big news. His spectacular prison break even bigger. As his ex-wife, the woman carrying his baby, Gracie had been in the news right along with him. For all she knew, the world-renowned Culinary Arts Institute might have rescinded her invitation without even letting her know. Hers was a type of publicity they didnt want.
On the flip side, she owed it to this tiny life growing inside to at least try.
Freeing her hands to rub her bulging tummy, she looked up toward the dresser and TV. Sitting beneath her favorite bottle of perfumethe only non-essential item left in the roomwas a note written on a yellow legal pad.
Want your stuff? Lets make a deal.
Meet me at the Fish Tale Motel
in Orick, California. Noon tomorrow.
Your Fave Marshal.
Instead of the customary signature at the bottom of his note, hed drawn a smiling stick guy bearing a star-shaped badge on his chest. Of all the nerve
Hed stolen everything she owned and thought shed be happy about it? Ohshed meet him all right, but if he thought for one second shed peaceably return to Portland with him, he had about as much brain power as his stupid, smiling stick man!
BOUT TIME yall got here, Marshal Beau said with a slow grin and that infuriating imitation of her accent. Granted, shed poured it on thick the morning shed locked him in that storage closet, but it hadnt been that thick.
Wheres my property? she asked from behind the wheel, shading her eyes against blinding noon sun. Their appointed meeting spot was an even more tired establishment than the last one shed stayed at.
The Fish Tale Motel was on the outskirts of the bustling tourist town of Ulmsteadlocated in the heart of redwood country. The towering redwood setting was spectacular, sweet-scented and warm; it was almost enough to make the giant log cabin, with its tattered green roof, charming. An abandoned mini-waterslide had been filled with pungent yellow marigolds.
Get out, Marshal Beau said, then Ill show you.
If its all the same to you, Id just as soon you put it in my trunk.
And then you drive off into the sunset?
She laughed. Its high noon. Theres a ways to go before nightfall.
You know what I mean. He braced his hands on the side of her door. Strong hands, with long elegant fingers. His muscular forearms were tan, a few light hairs mixed among the dark, glinting in the sun.
Yes, she thought, licking her lips. A few seconds earlier shed known exactly what hed meant, but somewhere between his biceps and broad shoulders, shed totally lost track of her thoughts.
Get out, he said. Please.
She sighed. You, please, cut me some slack. I feel eighteen months pregnant, according to you, my husbands trying to kill me and I havent had a decent meal in two days.
Wait just a sec, Beau said, jogging the fifteen feet to his black SUV.
He soon headed back her way bearing a large grocery sack. This is for you, he said, but only if youll at least get out long enough to talk to me.
Im not stupid, she said, thumping her forehead against the steering wheel. I get out, youll slap cuffs on me. Thatll be it. My whole life instantly ruined.
Look he knelt, resting his forearms on her door Ill level with you. Youre not going to like it, but for your own good, it has to be said.
What? She made the mistake of raising her head to meet his eyes. They were amazing eyes. Deep walnut with flecks of mossy-green. Above all, they were kind, not the eyes of a man deadset on destroying her life.
Gracie Sherwood, this isnt a game. Your ex-husband wants to kill youand your baby.
I have to get to that competition, she said, refusing to let his words sink in. And anyway, how would Vicente or his supposed hired thugs ever even find me?
I did. Youre a looker, driving a look-at-me car. Believe me, youre not too hard to find.
Then whyd you have to steal my stuff to get me back?
I didnt, he said. All I had to do was temporarily store your belongings in my car, then wait. I knew it was just a matter of time till you returned.
So all night and day youve been right behind me?
Pretty much.
Who else?
He looked away.
Tell me.
So far, one suspicious guy in a forest-green Hummer.
And? she asked, looking toward the busy highway. Where is he now?
He, ah, turned off around Fort Dick.
Uh-huh. Which only proves my point that Vicentes no fool. He wants nothing more to do with me. What happened back in Portland was no doubt some last chance, desperation effort designed to scare me, which it did. Ive left townfor all my ex knows, for good.
Marshal Beau sighed. Ever heard that saying about the calm before the storm? Right now, you happen to be in the sunand Im not complaining, but your ex isnt known for being a warm, fuzzy kind of guy. If you come with me now, youll have a team of folks to keep you safe. If not He shrugged.
She bravely raised her chin. I guess, seeing how Im safe for the moment, Ill pick, not.
Chuckling, he said, Actually its not up for negotiation. I was trying to be nice, but
Nice? Gracie didnt have time for nice, so she grabbed for the bag bearing what she prayed were doughnuts, then gunned her engine. She might not get much of a lead, and hot Marshal Beau might still have her stuff, but the way she saw it, desperate times called for desperate measures. She had to get to San Francisco. Winning that contest was her and her babys only shot at a decent future.
BEAU PRESSED OFF his cell phone, sick after having to admit to the boss that hed lost Gracieagain. Only this time, it really wasnt his fault, but that of fierce tourist traffic. Hed kept up with her no problem for thirty miles, then at Steed Point, hed been cut off by a gang of parading preschoolers on tricycles celebrating Clean Air Day.
From there on, it was slow going. Checking every dirt crossroad for rising dust, signaling she mightve gone off the main path. In every town he approached, he checked every gas station, restaurant and motel for her caras did the other marshals assigned to the case.
It was ten that night when he got the call from Adam that theyd found her in an inland motel. Want me to cuff her and bring her in?
Resting his forehead on the steering wheel, Beau sighed.
At this point, he wasnt sure what to do.
God only knew why, but he had a soft spot for the woman. Shed proven herself to be a major pain in his derriere, but seeing how she was pregnant and all, he at least wanted her treated with kid gloves. She had a goal, which was way more than he could say for himself.
Sure, he had his career, but it wasnt enough. Not nearly enough. For as long as he could remember, hed wanted a real family. Like the one hed grown up in only better, because his future wife, the mother of his children, wasnt going to die like his own mom had.
In marrying Ingrid, hed thought himself well on his way to making his every dream come true. Funny how that so-called dream had turned nightmare.
Yeah, he said to his brother, I guess if it comes down to it, go ahead and cuff Gracie, but be gentle. I dont want her or the baby getting hurt.
Duh, Adam said. Whens the last time I banged up a His brothers sudden silence hit Beau hard. It was tough enough on Beau remembering whatd happened to the last woman Adam had been assigned. Beau couldnt imagine how his brother must feel. Yeah, he had woman problems, but at least Ingrid was still alive.
What happened to Angela wasnt your fault, he told Adam for the hundredth time. Couldve happened to any one of us. Now, with Gracie, just use common sense. Shes an itty-bitty thing. Crafty, but she doesnt bite.
BRO, Adam said an hour later just as Beau approached the miniscule town of Boynton where Gracie had finally been found. Youre not gonna believe this, but she got away again.
How? Beau asked.
I was just about to slap cuffs on her, when she bit me!
AT FOUR in the morning, while everyone else on the team had long since pulled over for naps, Beau was still out looking. For sure, Vicentes new crew wasnt sleeping. If they got to Gracie before him, well
Beau refused to think about it.
It was four thirty-seven by the digital clock on his dash when he pulled into the rear of a relic of a motel with individual cabins for rooms. On the outskirts of the Mendocino National Forest, the place was surrounded by more of the dark, eerie, dense forest that was starting to be a major pain in his ass when he spotted Gracies car behind the last unit.
He killed his lights and engine a few cabins back. Took his time getting out of his car, rolling his shoulders, trying to work out Gracie-induced kinks.
Every cabin save for one was dark, so he headed toward Cabin Eight with its bluish TV glow.
When shed been little, and sick or upset from a bad day at school, his sister Gillian had liked to fall asleep in front of the living room TV.
Maybe Gracie was the same?
He peered through the inch or so between the curtain and wall. A lone man sat up in bed, sipping a Coors.
Great. Now what?
Beau yawned. Rubbed his eyes. Headed for the motel office.
Of course, at this time of the morning it was closed, but he wailed on the bell regardless.
Im comin, Im comin. A wisp of an elderly woman who didnt at all match her booming, gravelly voice flicked on lights in a shabby reception area. You want me to open the door, she shouted through thin glass, show me you got money for a room.
How much? Beau asked.
Forty.
He flashed two twenties.
She unlocked the door.
Ill need your license, she said from behind a counter she could barely see over.
Heres the thing, he said, setting the cash on the counter. My wife is already here, so Ill just need the number of her room.
The clerk raised her eyebrows.
She forgot to charge her cell, otherwise, Id just call.
Tapping a vintage black rotary-dial parked beside his left elbow, she said, Here you go. Each cabin has its own line. Only one single gal girl staying with us tonight. She wrote a number on a pad that said Alpine Lodge across the top.
Beau flashed his star, then smiled. You know, I really hate waking her. How about you please tell me which cabin is hers.
How do I know that badge is real? For all I know, you bought it off the Web. You could be some serial killer.
Beau sighed. Never mind, maam. Thank you for your time.
He turned to leave.
Take your money. I dont deal with any of you late-night sickos.
Tucking the money in his wallet, Beau headed back out into the night.
One by one, he knocked on cabin doors. Housekeeping!
Get a life, bud!
Maintenance! Ive gotta unplug your john!
Screw you!
Five doors later, a cop pulled into the dirt lot, lights and siren blazing.
Good girl, Beau said under his breath about the desk clerk hed apparently correctly pegged as the type to call the law on him.
Freeze! the cop said, gun and flashlight aimed at Beau as he emerged from his car. Okay, now slowly raise those hands.
Wincing from the blinding light, Beau did as hed been told.
Glancing off to his left and right, out of the lights glare, he saw that just as hed hoped, lamps flicked on and draperies parted in all but cabins Three and Fifteen. The former had been the one Gracies tank was parked closest to, so Beau deduced Cabin Three was hers.
The cop asked, Mind telling me what youre doing out this hour of the night, knocking on sleeping citizens doors?
Beau said, Im a deputy U.S. Marshal down from Portland.
Right. Rolling his eyes, the cop said, And Im Santa. Lets see some ID.
Beau obliged, and five minutes later, after the officer made a few calls and found his story checked out, Beau was free to go.
Ho, ho, ho, the now jovial cop said. Sorry to rain on your parade.
Not a problem, Beau said.
Once he was again alone, and all those lamps had gone out, Beau trudged to Cabin Three.
He gave Gracie the benefit of a courtesy knock, then worked magic on the lock with equipment he didnt officially have.
Inside, he quietly shut the door.
Gracie was sitting up in bed, hands curved around her bulging stomach, looking prettier, softer, more fragile than she ever had.
For an instant he looked away, hating to think himself the cause of her grim expression. If only shed get it through that thick head of hers that he wasnt the problem, but the solution.
Im so tired of this, she said softly. And she did look tired. Even in the dim light leaking in from the Alpine Lodges blue neon sign, he saw circles under her eyes. Cant we just be friends?
I wasnt aware we werent.
She sighed. Come on, Beau. Enough games.
Were now on a first-name basis?
You know what I mean.
Yeah, he said, drawing the rooms one chair up to the head of the bed. I do.
So then this is it? You agree to let me go on to San Francisco? Alone?
He laughed.
This isnt funny, damn you, its my life.
Im not disputing that.
Then why are you acting this way? Like my wanting to take my hard-earned spot in a prestigious competition is wrong? I mean think about it, this is the Olympics for cooks. People kill for chances like As her words trailed off, she tucked her lower lip into her mouth.
Oh man, he said with a groan. Youre not going to cry, are you?
Maybe. She looked up, slaying him with her baby blues. Only in this light, he couldnt even really see them, just a shimmer. It was only in his mind those eyes could hurt him. And because he knew that, because he was savvy to her every trick, he pulled his cuffs from his back pocket and slapped one on her wrist.
This time, she laughed, only it wasnt at all funny sounding, but laced with raspy tears. I was trying to be serious. You know, open up. But its obvious you couldnt care less how I feel. All you care about is getting your man.
Yeah, but youre a woman, he said. All woman. Which was why he had to stay strong.
Im not going to run again, she said.
I know.
Her face brightened in a smile so hopeful, so lovely and pure that it clenched his gut with ridiculous desires. Silly stupid things like wanting to hold her and protect her and beat the crap out of anyone who dared ruin her pregnancys peace. Does that mean you finally trust me? That you agree I should do the competition?
No.
Then what? It has to mean something that you finally believe Im done running.
Oh. He flashed her a slow grin. It means something, all right. He slapped his free cuff on his own wrist. Means you can run all you want, but wherever you go, this time, Ill be with you.
Chapter Three
Beau groaned.
Gracie was crying. Big ol messy Southern belle tears just a little too over the top to be convincing.
When she got to the point in her show where she gazed up at him, batting long, tear-fringed eyelashes glinting in the light spilling in from the parking lot, he yanked the hand cuffed to her to his free one, flooding the now-silent room with bawdy applause. Woo-hoo!
He threw in an ear-splitting whistle, too.
Youre a beast, she spat, trying to roll over, taking him along for the ride.
Heymy arm doesnt bend that way, thank you very much.
And I wasnt crying for your entertainment pleasure, thank you very much!
Look, lady, how about we agree to disagree and call it a night?
I would, but Im cold. I cant sleep without my faux mink throw.
So youre wanting me to uncuff you long enough to go get it?
Yes, please.
He sighed. Ran his palm over the day and nights stubble on his jaw. Tell you what, you want that ratty old thing that bad, Ill be happy to walk outside with you to get it from my trunk.
But Im tired and my ankles are swollen.
Me, tooon both counts. He stood, yanked her arm sideways to allow himself the range of motion needed to jerk the spread off the extra bed, then the blanket. After lying down beside her, then covering them both, he growled, Night.
Im supposed to just lay here flat like this? I dont have enough pillows, and when my head isnt high enough, I always wake with heartburn.
Here, he said, yanking his own pillow out from under his head to awkwardly ram it under hers.
Thank you.
Yeah.
After a few moments blessed silence, Beau was finally nodding off when she sighed.
Instantly, he was awake. What?
Ill never be able to sleep like this. If only I could
Roll over.
What?
If I have to tell you again, Ill roll you myself.
She rolled, his arm flailed up at an awkward as hell angle, and because above all he was a gentlemen, not about to have this very pregnant woman accuse him of not having gotten adequate rest on his watch, he somehow managed to fall asleep.
Staying asleep was a whole other matter.
Quit, he mumbled when something kept rubbing his wrist.
Huh?
Whatever youre doing, knock it off.
Im just laying here, trying to
That! That little movement right there suspiciously close to Chinese water torture.
That? She giggled. Thats the baby, silly. Shes a night owl. Watch She flicked on the wall-mounted lamp on her side of the bed, then rolled onto her back and flung off the blanket. Just keep your eyes on my belly, andthere! Did you see that?
Damn, that was pretty cool. Will he do it again?
She. And probably. Just keep watching.
He or she did do it againand again.
Watching that all-too-familiar show did something to Beau. As did seeing the wisp of a smile curving the corners of Gracies lips. She was proud of this babyand she had a right to be. As hed thought many times with Ingrid, having something that big moving around in your gut didnt look all that comfortable.
Does it hurt? he asked with the next alienlike rise in her stomach.
Not at all, she said. More like tickles.
Well, that was good news.
I hope this turns out right for you, he said.
Me, too.
He made the mistake of meeting her big, blue stare, shimmering with unshed tears. A mysterious something in his own gut told him this time, her emotion was the real deal. And he hated that he was the one making her cry.
In the vast majority of his experiences with women, usually it turned out the other way around. Them making him cry. Not that hed actually boo hooedjust that hed felt miserable enough that if hed been of the crying persuasion, the night Ingrid dumped him for that stodgy partner of hers wouldve been a legitimate tear-worthy occasion.
It turned out the child shed carried for the past seven months, the child hed been celebrating as his own for the past seven months, wasnt really his, but her partners.
After that, how many times had he wished lifes tables could be turned? That he could be the one causing angst in a relationship? But now, even though this could hardly be called a romantic circumstance, he didnt like the thought of Gracie for real crying one little bit.
A duo of tears slid down her left cheek. Purely on reflex, he brushed them away.
Youre not going to let me go, are you?
Lips pressed tight, he shook his head.
That sucks, she said. But I guess youre just doing your job.
Trying, he said. But if its any consolation, Im not enjoying this any more than you. In fact, being forced up against her like this, her lush curves spread before him like a veritable smorgasbord of womanhood, his assignment was growing harder by the secondquite literally. As best he could, he shifted his fly, trying his damnedest to ignore the canyon of heat scorching his legs, chest and shoulder where their bodies touched.
Good, she said, casting him a sarcastic smile much more indicative of the woman whod locked him in a storage closet. Thank God. If shed maintained her softer side, hed have been in real trouble.
Ready for some sleep? she asked.
Yeah. Oh, hell yeah.
She turned off the light, pulled the blanket back up over her. He braced himself for her roll, and sure enough, there it was. With his arm back up at an awkward angle, his other elbow digging into his ribs, Beau closed his eyes and sighed, telling himself hed slept in worse places at far worse angles.
Finally, finally, hed drifted off to dreamland when
Marshal Beau?
Yes?
The light switched on. I really have to go to the bathroom.
IM NOT LEAVING MY CAR, Gracie said. Around ten the next morning the two of them stood in a chilly drizzle just outside her cabin.
She breathed deeply of fresh-washed, conifer-scented air, vowing today would be a great day. A normal day. Marshal Beau couldnt keep her cuffed forever. All she had to do was sit tight and plan another escape and shed soon be back on her way.
Marshal Beau pulled the cabins door shut. Gave her that look she was beginning to know and love. The one that said he was counting to ten in his head in a futile attempt to keep from strangling her. She knew the look because for the vast majority of the time theyd been together, shed been doing the same with him.
Ms. Sherwood, Ive called a tow truck, and your car will be safely garaged back in Portland. Your belongings are in the back of my vehicle. Im doing everything I can to be reasonable. Hell, I spent the whole night with my elbow up my ass trying to make you comfortable, but
You dont have to be crude. Im used to being around more refined men.
He snorted. Oh, so let me see, all of the sudden, your convicted murderer, drug-dealing, scum of a husband is a great guy because he
Pa-ching!
Shit! he hollered, roughly grabbing her upper arm. Get down.
Why? What was that?
A bullet. Attached to a gun with a silencer. Come on. Crouching behind shrubs, he pushed her in front of him, then pulled a gun from a shoulder holster and started firing.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Oh my God, oh my God Gracie chanted the phrase over and over. I didnt think any of this was real. That you were somehow just making it all up to get your way, but
Please, he said, lacing the fingers of their cuffed hands, then giving her a squeeze. Keep it together for me a little while longer.
I cant, I cant, I
He kissed her. Hard. Fast. You have to. Come on.
Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
See that black SUV? He pointed five cabins down.
You kissed me, she said, fingertips to her lips.
He shook his head.
Y-yes, yes, you did.
Pa-ching! Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
For cryin out loud, woman, it was just a kiss. It was the only way I could think to get your attention.
You couldve just slapped me, she hissed, still reeling from the shocking pleasure of him pressing his lips to hers.
Youd have rather I
Pa-ching!
W-what about the SUV? she asked.
He fished for something from his front jeans pocket, then pulled out a tiny key. If I let you loose, promise to do the smart thing and run for that car?
Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
She swallowed hard and nodded.
He unlocked the cuffs, and even though their hands were free, he squeezed her fingers again. On three, he said.
She nodded.
OneTwoGo!
Gracie ran for all she was worth, her marshal close on her heels, firing back.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Pa-ching! Pa-ching! Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
In the car, heart pounding, Gracie hunched down in her seat.
Seconds later, Beau hopped in beside her, slamming his door and starting the engine simultaneously.
You okay? he asked, revving the engine, throwing a rooster tail of gravel up behind them as he sped from the lot.
Afraid she couldnt speak past the wall of terrified tears blocking her throat, she nodded.
Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
Beau! Theyre following! Hurry!
Im doin the best I can, darlin. Put on your seat belt. Id do it for you, but
Yeah, she could see he was kind of busy.
He careened onto a side street.
Seconds later, made a sharp right.
Dammit, he mumbled. Theyre still back there.
At least theyre not shooting.
Pa-ching!
You were saying?
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, Gracie said with a weak chuckle thirty minutes later, her breathing just now slow enough that she could speak without hyperventilating. At least we lost my ex-husbands associates.
Stopped on the shoulder of a dirt road winding through forest so thick they might as well have been in a tunnel, her marshal thumped his forehead against the steering wheel. Unfortunately with my cell not having a signal, weve also lost ourselves.
Heyyou were the one driving. All I did was sit here screaming.
Hed had his eyes closed, but opened one long enough to glare at her. Thanks.
Making the mistake of gazing out her window, Gracie found the woods looking tall, dark and spookylike one of those Bigfoot documentaries on The Travel Channel. Primeval ferns lined the road, and the only sound aside from a faint whoosh high in the Douglas fir, western red hemlock and Sitka spruce was the occasional rapid-fire hammer of a woodpecker somewhere in the gloom.
Far off thunder rumbled.
Gracie shivered.
Goose bumps covered her forearms, which then made her have to pee. Bad.
Not a good thing considering there wasnt a rest area, gas station or McDonalds anywhere in sight.
I really have to go to the bathroom, she said.
This time, Marshal Beau didnt even open one eye. He just sat there. Stone silent. Like the moss-covered boulders on the side of the road.
A sprinkle of fat raindrops hit the windshield, only worsening her need to pee.
Im not kidding, she said. Ive reeaally got to go. Im sure this is too much information, but the babys sitting on my bladder. I can only hold it for like twenty more secondstops.
Still nothing.
Are you even listening to me? She gave his shoulder a nudge. After which, he grunted before reaching for his side, revealing a dark, sticky substance all over the back of his navy marshals jacket. It was on the seat, too. Smudging the black leather.
Hands to her mouth, she shook her head.
Had he been shot?
But when?
How could she not have noticed? He hadnt been bawling with pain or anything. Hed just driven her to safety, all the while hed been sitting there bleeding toNo.
No bleeding to death in such an already creepy location. Especially when it was her fault hed been shot. The whole time shed been running from him, convinced he was only lying to get her back to Portland to testify, hed been telling the truththat she, and her babywere in danger.
The thought all at once made her hot, queasy and a little light-headed. But then she looked at the brave man beside her whod saved her life, and asked, Whats wrong with you? How can you just calmly be sitting there when youve been shot? Help me get your jacket off so I can see how badly youre hurt.
Im fine, he said, wincing while she slipped off his windbreaker. It had been chilly that morning outside the motel, but shed suspected hed put it on more to hide his shoulder-holstered gun than because hed been cold. Beneath the jacket was a shamrock-green T-shirt touting the Santa Clara Lucky Clovers, the right side of which was covered in a dark stain.
Getting a woozy Beau out of the drivers seat and around the front of the car was no easy feat.
Sucking her lower lip, she gingerly raised his shirt over his head to find a bloody mess. But thankfully it looked like the bullet had only grazed him. Nevertheless, his poor, bruised skin resembled a tenderized flank steak.
How bad is it? he asked in a scratchy voice.
If we can manage to prevent it from getting infected long enough to get you to a doctor, odds are youll survive. Got any bottled water?
He nodded. In the back.
Okay. Looks like the bleedings long since stopped, so lets get you washed up and laying down on the passenger side. Guzzle that water, and well find the nearest town and a doctor.
W-what about you?
What about me? Im not shot.
You going to run again?
Give me some credit, Beau. You couldve been killed protecting me. Yes, more than anything in the world, I want to attend the Culinary Olympics, but not at the cost of someones life. Especially not his. What hed done for her might all be in a days work for him, but
She was suddenly so overcome with emotion, she couldnt even think, just gaze at him like some dopey starstruck teen. It felt as if only just now had she really, truly seen him. His darkly handsome, whisker-stubbled profile and eyes as deeply brown as the forest around them.
.
.
, (https://www.litres.ru/laura-altom-marie/his-baby-bonus/) .
Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, , , , PayPal, WebMoney, ., QIWI , .
Laura Marie Altom
The Way To A Man's Heart?Ms. Grade Sherwoodeight months pregnant and counting!is on the run from her mobster ex-husband and the U.S. Marshals who are supposed to be protecting her. No one is going to keep Gracie from winning the Culinary Art Invitational cooking competitionher one chance at making a fresh start for her and the baby.After a close call, U.S. Marshal Beauregard Logue finally convinces Gracie to stay close to himwhich basically means he's become her personal taster! Gracie has to stay focused on the contest, and on her pregnancy, but it's hard to concentrate with a big handsome marshal asking her for seconds.Gracie's falling for Beau, but have those feelings grown out of love or out of fear? And is this marshal willing to take on
The United States Marshals Service
Formed in 1789 by President George Washington, the United States Marshals Service is the oldest federal law enforcement agencyand in my mind, one of the most mysterious. They used to carry out death sentences, catch counterfeiterseven take the national census. According to their Web site, At virtually every significant point over the years where Constitutional principles or the force of law have been challenged, the marshals were thereand they prevailed. Now the agency primarily focuses on fugitive investigation, prisoner/alien transportation, prisoner management, court security and witness security.
No big mystery there, you say? When I started this series, I didnt think so, either. Intending to nail the details, I marched down to my local marshals office for an afternoon that will stay with me forever.
After learning the agencys history and being briefed on day-to-day operations, I was taken on a tour. I saw an impressive courtroom and a prisoner holding cell. Then we went to the garage to see vehicles and bulletproof vests and guns. Sure, Im an author, but Im primarily a mom and wife. I bake cookies and find hubbys always-lost belt. Nothing made the U.S. Marshals Service spring to life for me more than seeing those weapons. And then I realized my tour guide wasnt fictional. He used those guns, put his very life on the line protecting me and my family and the rest of this city, county and state. I had chills.
Things really got interesting when I started digging for information on the Witness Security Program. Deputy Marshal Rick ever so politely sidestepped my every question. I found out nothing! Not where the base of operations is located, not which marshals are assigned to the program, what size crews are used, how their shifts are rotatednothing! After a while it got to be a game. One it was obvious Id lose!
Honestly, all this mystery probably makes for better fiction. I dont want to know what really happens. Its probably not half as romantic as the images of these great protectors Ive conjured in my mind. Ohand another bonus to my tourDeputy Marshal Rick was Harlequin American Romancehero hot!
Laura Altom
Dear Reader,
In case you couldnt already tell, Im fascinated by the United States Marshals Service! Their Web site is wonderful, full of all sorts of interesting facts (www.usdoj.gov/marshals/index.html). Some of my favorite pages detail marshal-led sting operations. These guys are not only brave and strong, but funny!
One of the most elaborate stings involved free tickets to a Washington Redskins home football game against the Cincinnati Bengals. The fugitives, wanted by authorities for a variety of criminal offenses, willingly gathered at the D.C. Convention Center in response to invitations sent by the Marshals Service to the last known addresses of more than 3,000 wanted persons with more than 5,000 outstanding warrants. There are some super pics on the site, one of which features a pair of fugitives hamming it up with, unbeknownst to them, a U.S. Marshal dressed in a chicken suit!
Hoping any contests you win are the real deal,
Laura Marie
P.S. You can reach me through my Web site at
www.lauramariealtom.com (http://www.lauramariealtom.com) or write me at P.O. Box 2074, Tulsa, OK 74101.
His Baby Bonus
Laura Marie Altom
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For United States Marshal Timothy D. Welch and Deputy U.S. Marshal Rick Holden. Thank you for the incredible tour of Tulsas marshals office, and for patiently answering my gazillion questions! Any technical errors are all mine!
And for sweet Edna Welch in the Nimitz Middle School Library, who so tirelessly helps me find all those spy, police and fairy-tale books.
Thank you for all your hugs and smiles!
Books by Laura Marie Altom
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
940BLIND LUCK BRIDE
976INHERITED: ONE BABY!
1028BABIES AND BADGES
1043SANTA BABY
1074TEMPORARY DAD
1086SAVING JOE* (#litres_trial_promo)
1099MARRYING THE MARSHAL* (#litres_trial_promo)
Contents
Chapter One (#ub6b7a9a9-14f8-5178-9a79-5f55277c227a)
Chapter Two (#ufbad4cd5-b5f5-5170-96d3-015b81b03974)
Chapter Three (#u8d7fba91-5360-5e99-bf70-c401b2408571)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Bam!
The storage room door slammed shut, drowning Deputy U.S. Marshal BeauregardBeauLogue in inky blackness.
Ms. Sherwood? he called out, adrenaline pumping and body on full alert as a pathetically weak overhead bulb blinked on. You all right?
Nothing.
Not giving a damn what happened to the wine-glasses hed been hauling for the petite, nearly eight months pregnant, proverbial Georgia peach, Beau dumped them clinking to his feet, then scrambled for the exit.
Ms. Sherwood, talk to me! Hand on the doorknob, shoulder bearing down on the door, Beau shoved with all his might, but it didnt budge. Someone had to have deliberately blocked it. Ms. Sherwood? Gracie?
Still nothing.
Not even a frick-frackin mouse squeak.
And wouldnt you know it, hed left his handheld radio in the restaurants main dining room. Hadnt even felt the need for his headset, seeing how the operation thus far had been smooth.
Now what?
Had Chef Gracies escapee ex-husband gotten to her? A couple of his hired guns? Was she sick? Passed out? Shed seemed fine just a second ago, but he knew from bitter experience pregnant women had issues.
Beau again rammed the door with his shoulder, but all he got for his efforts was crazy, red-hot pain.
Okay, think, man. Think. Hands braced on his hips, hed kept his head for all of two seconds when he tried punching the door. The only thing that netted was hurt knuckles, so he switched to Plan Bwhich pretty much consisted of a helluva lot of hollering.
Yo, Mason! Mulgrave! Wolcheck! Anyone out there?
No response. He moved on to Plan C.
The building was in the heart of Fort McKenzies historic Gas Light District, meaning the restaurant occupied three older structures that used to be row houses in the trendy mountain town just an hours commute to Portland, Oregon. The result was a hodgepodge of too narrow rooms and passages thatd no doubt barely passed city inspections.
All closed up like the place was, the air on this uncharacteristically hot mid-August Tuesday morning was sticky. Smelled like the moldy sneakers he used for mowing his fixer-upper houses lawn.
Eyeing a putty knife on a shelf lined with grimy tools, he used it to wedge up and under the doors hinge pins. The top one popped right off. The second was rusty, but with teeth gritted, he worked that one free, as well. Beau managed to keep the heavy door steady long enough to lift it out of his way and lean it against the nearest shelves.
From his shoulder holster, he pulled his gun, readying it for whatever awaited behind the newly liberated door that, sure enough, someone had padlocked a steel bar in front of.
He ducked under it.
In the now dark hall, he wasnt sure what to expectsure as hell not a convenient bread crumb trailbut what he got was exactly squat. He made a quick sweep of the area but found not so much as a long, blond hair for a clue.
For all practical purposes, Gracie Sherwood had vanished.
Not only did that tick Beau off because he took his job of protecting witnesses very seriously, but also hed taken an instant liking to Ms. Sherwood. She was sweet, brave, defenseless. Reminded him of his good friend and fellow marshal Chance Mulgraves wife whod had it rough when her first husband had been killed right about the time shed discovered she was pregnant.
With slumped shoulders, Beau made the long walk out to join the rest of his crew, radioing for the two guys patrolling the buildings side and rear to come up front.
Dont suppose any of you have seen Ms. Sherwood? he asked once all were assembled.
Villetti chuckled. Youre kidding, right?
Jaw clenched, Beau sighed. It look like Im kidding? Mason, Wolcheck, do me a favor and check the garage down the street for her car.
Five minutes later, the two guys were back.
Gracie Sherwoods car wasnt there.
What did it mean? Someone took her in her own vehicle?
Beaus stomach clenched.
Sure, it was possible, but more likely, for whatever oddball reason, hed been duped. Shed used her Southern charm and curls to lure him into the storage closet. Shed locked him in, then taken off. But why? What did she know that he didnt that had her running? Was she joining her husband? Or running scared from him and thinking shed be safer on her own?
So what happened? his younger brother Adam asked. Hear signs of a struggle?
Not a peep.
Whatre you gonna do? Bug, Adams best bud and the only woman on the team, asked. This was a mighty high profile case for the boss. He finds out youre the one who misplaced her, well She finished her sentence with a low whistle that pretty much said it all.
No matter the cost, no matter where the hunt took him, Beau had to get Gracie Sherwood backnow. Not just for her, but himself. Hed already lost one pregnant woman. No way would he lose another.
FIFTEEN MINUTES after making her big escape, Gracie Sherwoodshed long ago ditched her married name of Delgado in favor of her maiden surnamepulled her whale of a vintage pink Caddie convertible up to a convenience store gas pump. While her car guzzled gas, she counted moneyor rather, her lack thereof: $184.32.
Not good, especially considering the cost of this one fill-up. Still, the $150 in the restaurant safe had been all she could get her hands on. The $34.32 all that was left of Vicentes now frozen assets. Not that shed even want to spend a dime more of his money, but in this case, it wouldve at least been nice to have the option.
Inside, she made a quick trek to the ladies room, paid for the fuel, a pack of mini powdered-sugar doughnuts, a banana and jug of OJ, then climbed back behind the wheel.
She tried finding a decent radio station, but this far out of Portland, got nothing but static. A week earlier, some punk had broken her cars antennae. The final nail in the coffin of a particularly rotten year.
Finding out the sophisticated, articulate, Harvard-educated Bolivian shed fallen wildly in love with had in fact been up to his neck in the kinds of dirty dealing she couldnt even begin to comprehend had been hard to take. Whatd happened after that nearly destroyed her.
Muggy, hot summer wind in her hair, she focused on the winding mountain road. Gracie ignored the latest lump in her throat and tightened her grip on the wheel.
With Vicente behind bars, shed thought shed been safeat least until a month from now when her testimony wouldve forced her to face him at the trial. Lucky for her, shed been the one to find his business log, onto the pages of which hed meticulously recorded each illegitimate business dealing hed been involved in. Everything from drug dealing to illegal importing to murder. All carefully documented in the event hed ever needed to blackmail one of his associates. His ego was the size of Vermont, so knowing Vicente, hed never even imagined it being foundlet alone, used against him.
Although she was a week shy of eight months pregnant, she was now on her way to the Culinary Arts Invitational, held in just under two weeks in San Francisco. After she won the competition, Gracie planned on heading to her parents home in Deerwood, Georgia.
As a master chef, shed worked her whole life for this. Before finding out about Vicente, the hundred grand in prize money wouldve merely been icing on the cake of what shed mistakenly believed had been her already fantastic life. Now that the restaurant shed nurtured into a lucrative business had been closed due to nonexistent profits, since news about Vicentes dirty dealings had become public, the prize represented a second chance for her and her baby.
When shed gotten the news Vicente had escaped, and that word on the streetaccording to Portland policewas that he was coming for her, at first she hadnt believed it.
But then, why not? she thought with a bitter laugh. The man had already committed an unspeakable crime against her. Why not finish her off?
After narrowly avoiding being abducted at gunpoint one afternoon while walking her neighborhood park, Gracie had gone back to the police, whod turned her over to the U.S. Marshals Witness Security Program.
Shed tried explaining to police about the competition soon to be held in San Francisco, how she had to be there, that it was the only way shed ever get enough cash to start a new restaurant and life. But theyd said simply, no. She was too valuable a witness to let go.
A witness.
Thats all she was to these guys.
They didnt see the pain shed been through. The pain she was still working through. They didnt see the innocent baby girl shed have to diaper with newspapers if she didnt win the top CAI prize. Yes, her parents would help best they could, but seeing how they were retired, it wasnt like they had a money tree shading their backyard.
Lucky for Gracie, the marshals whod been sent to protect her had been even more chauvinistic, and thus easier to escape, than her husbands thugs.
She was sorry for having locked the nice one in the storage closet, but really, what else could she have done? From here on out, the nice marshalalong with the rest of his crewwere the enemy in the most important battle shed ever fight.
The battle to regain her life. Her normalcy.
For many women, she supposed discovering their husband was a murdering psycho would probably ruin them. What happened after that
No. It was in the past. Never to be spoken or thought of again. What was done was done, and she wasnt willing to become a slave to one horrific night.
Gracie had wanted to be a mother since she was three years old, playing with her Burp and Boo Betty doll. Shed dreamed of winning CAIs competition ever since her graduation from the prestigious Western Culinary Institute. With two such cherished goals on the line, no oneespecially not some clueless marshalwas going to bring her down.
From here on out, she would take nice, deep breaths. Dream of holding her baby girl in her arms in the kitchen of the new restaurant the prize money would help start. In short, life would finally get back to normal.
Normal. The word had such a melodic sound. In a life led in Normalville, husbands didnt do what hers had. They didnt go to prison and then escape. They didnt want to kill pregnant wives.
MmmGracie liked Normalville. Much preferred to her past locale of Chaosville. So she raised her face to the sun, pasted on a bright smile and reveled in the first unhurried, carefree moments of her and her babys new lives.
YOU SEEN HER? Beau asked the clerk at the third convenience store hed stopped at along Highway 26, the only route leading east or west out of Fort McKenzie. Other deputy marshals covered less traveled roads. Hed chosen this one for himself because if by chance Ms. Sherwood had gotten it in that pretty head of hers that shed wanted to go for a nice drive home to Georgiawithout her security detailthen by God, hed be the one to give her a good talking to. The woman wasnt only putting her life at risk, but her babys.
People who crossed Vicente Delgado died.
It was that simple.
His gut told him Gracie was too smart to have gone back to hubby, which, after a quick look at her file, only left a couple other options. There was some cooking thing shed told Portland PD she wanted to compete in, but after having been shot at, surely even shed seen how attending such a well-publicized event was a bad idea. She had family in Georgia. But why would she want to drive all that way? No doubt it had something to do with her pregnancy. Best he could remember, women about to pop werent supposed to fly, right?
The paunchy, graying Caucasian male manning the convenience store counter took the photo, eyed it a good fifteen seconds, then tapped it. You know, I think I have seen her. Maybe an hour ago she got gas, then bought OJ and those little powdered sugar doughnuts. I remember cause the combination wouldve sent me to the ER with heartburn.
Excellent, Beau said, snatching back the picture. You see which way she went?
She definitely turned that pink tank of hers west.
West? Beau rubbed his throbbing forehead. Sighed.
Had she decided to go to that cooking thing after all? And if so, why? What didnt the woman get about psycho exes and crowds being a bad combination?
Well, soon as he caught up with her, hed give her an education in both. Lucky for her, bad news exes were his specialty.
Climbing back in his SUV, grabbing Ray-Ban Aviators from the dash and slipping them on, he couldnt help but wonder what was it with him and women?
When it came to judging guys, he could sniff a whack job from eighty miles back. Throw in a hot female, and his radar went haywire. Not that preggers Gracie Sherwood was either a whack job or hotat least not in the conventional sense. But she was cute. And Lord knew, as in the case of his cheating ex-wife, cute had its own set of pitfalls.
Initially, when Gracie had first split, hed been a little out of his mind. There. Hed admitted it. But he was stronger now. Her taking off wasnt anything like what had happened with Ingrid. Not even remotely. It was job stress making him crazy, linking everything into one big jumbo mess in his head. Time was all he needed to work through it. Everyone he knew agreed.
Now, all he had to do was convince himself.
MAAM? Beau said to the waitress whod just set a juicy double cheeseburger and fries on Gracies table. Gracie was in the rest room. It was lunchtime at I-5, exit 282about thirty minutes south of sweltering, traffic-clogged Portland. And while Beau was thrilled about having spotted Gracies pink whale in the truck stop lot, then blocking her car in with his SUV, he was more thrilled about landing a burger. Mind bringing me the same?
Sure, she said, giving him a funny look while he slid into the turquoise vinyl booth.
Extra mayo and grilled onions, please.
You got it.
In the meantime, Beau helped himself to Gracies fries. Lucky for him, shed chosen a lonely corner, away from the obnoxious pop blaring on the jukebox, out of the line of sight of anyone walking through the front door or on their way back from the john. Expecting Gracie to pounce the second she caught sight of him, Beau continued downing her fries, but remained on alert.
A few minutes later, she rounded the corner and gasped. Whatre you
By the time Gracie had even realized whatd happened, a marshalthat nice onestood, nudged her into the booth, then sat beside her, pinning her in. Howdy, he said in his best Southern twang. How yall doin?
Let me go, she snarled from between clenched teeth. Or so help me, Ill scream so loud every redneck in this jointll tear you to pieces.
Good, Beau said, helping himself to another fry. Then after that, theyll no doubt be happy to tackle the other guys after you.
What other guys?
Four goons your hubby hired. Yesterday afternoon, a friend of mine from Portland PD gave me a tip. We found out that with the bulk of his pals still behind bars, your ex assembled a new crew to take you out. Which is why my boss feels a sense of urgency about getting you back under our protection.
Right, Gracie said, snatching her plate from him, then wolfing down a fry. Oh, personal experience taught her Vicente was a man to be feared, but he wasnt superhuman. She wasnt using a credit card or cell phone, so as far as she knew, she couldnt be traced. As for how this marshal ended up finding her, shed chalk that up to pure, dumb luck. Shed told police her plans to compete in San Francisco, and he no doubt assumed shed be on I-5the most direct route.
Mistake Number One.
From here on out, shed stick solely to back roads.
After all, this close to obtaining her most cherished dreams of becoming a mother and winning the world renowned CAI competition, she wasnt about to do something stupid like put her life at risk.
Yes, Vicente no doubt knew that she would attend the Culinary Olympics, but come on, the man was a prison escapee. He was also brilliant. Meaning, he wouldnt risk freedom by showing up at one of the most publicized events in the culinary world.
Wishing for her own wafer-thin, home cooked potato chips accompanied by a nice, mellow dill dip, a turkey burger and side of pasta salad, Gracie instead made lemonade from the lemons of her life by grabbing for the ketchup bottle. But it was new, and the lid wouldnt budge.
The marshal calmly took the bottle from her, easily twisting off the top. It made a cheerful little pop.
Glaring at him, choosing to ignore the supercharged hum thatd passed between them when their hands brushed, Gracie took the bottle back, giving it a good, hard shake. She was just about to reach for her knife to stick it inside, when he took the bottle again, thumping the side and bottom with the heel of his hand.
Once a thick, red river of ketchup pooled on her plate, he calmly put the lid on the bottle, then reached past her to set it alongside a squeeze mustard bottle, sugar and napkins.
I couldve done that, she said, blocking his all-male scent of leather and cars and some other intriguing something she couldnt begin to identify, but had the craziest urge to explore. Im a chef. I have my own ketchup trick.
Did I say you couldnt have done it?
No, but your tone implied it.
What tone?
That one, she said, plucking pickles from her burger. You used it just now. It plainly said you think Im incompetent, and that I need a big, strong man to look after me and make my ketchup come out. But you know what? I made it this far on my own, and Startled, she jumped.
Here you go, the waitress said, having caught Gracie off guard when shed abruptly rounded the corner. She set a plate loaded with another burger and fries on the table. Need anything else?
No, thank you, Gracie said. Why, oh why, when shed flinched, hadnt she headed for the wall instead of her assigned marshal? Who actually, now that shed gotten a better look at him, was disturbingly hot. The whole right side of her body still tingled.
But there were no tingles in Normalville! Especially when she had no want nor need for any men in her lifelet alone hot ones!
Actually, the marshal said to the waitress, I wouldnt mind a Coke when you get a second.
Be right back. On her return trip to the kitchen, the rail-thin redhead sang along with the jukebox.
Mind passing the ketchup? the marshal asked.
I know what youre thinking, Gracie said, careful to set the stupid bottle in front of him, rather than risk another touching encounter by passing it directly into his waiting hand. How if Im skitterish enough to jump when a waitress comes around, that I must be a real head case. But Ill have you know I didnt flinch just a second ago because I was scared or nervous or anything. Flinching is a natural reaction often encountered during the latter stages of a womans third trimester.
Uh-huh, he said before taking a bite of his burger.
You dont believe me?
He just sat there chewing.
She cut her burger in half, then took a bite, only to wince before swallowing. I cant eat this, she said.
Why?
Its cold. I dont usually eat foods like Making a face, she waved at the offensive burger. Plus, I have a texture issue about cold grease. Feels funny on my tongue.
Take mine, he said, switching plates. Its still good and hot.
I couldnt, she said.
Afraid Ive got cooties? Want me to cut off the part where I bit?
Of course not, she said. And to prove it, she took a bite right beside his, only to then wish shed have just stuck with her own cold burger.
The slow grin he cast her way made a mess of her earlier assumption that the man was her enemy. How long had it been since someone was truly nice to her? Sacrifice-his-own-hot-burger nice? A while. But that didnt mean now she should suddenly go soft.
If she let this marshal take her back to Portland, shed be stuck in some so-called safe house for who knew how long before Vicentes case went to trial. Seeing how now that hed vanished, he couldnt exactly be put on the stand. Her chance for winning the CAIs prize would be gone, along with her and her baby girls future.
Keeping this in mind, she concentrated on finishing her marshals burger and planning a new escape. Shed tried living in Chaosville and found it not to her liking.
Hate to interrupt you, she said while he downed the last of her burger. But Ive got to go to the bathroom.
Again? He sighed.
Sorry. She flashed him her brightest smile. Another pregnancy thing.
Its okay, he said, sliding out of the booth. But just in case youre thinking of trying anything, Im going with you. Not only are you a key witness, but whether you want to acknowledge it or not, youre in danger.
Thats just plain silly, she said, thickening her accent. Vicente would nevuh really hurt me. And now that youve found me, where could I possibly go? Now, be a good boy and please hand me my purse.
He cautiously did as shed asked.
Thank you. I wont be but a second.
Thats mighty considerate of you, darlin, but just in case you get a hankering to take another drive, how about leaving me your keys?
Y-you cant be serious, she said. After hearing about those other men trailing me, you honestly think Id willingly leave your side?
Keys. He held out his hand, wagged his fingers.
With a huffy sigh, she dug through her purse, handing them to him.
Thanks.
Youre not welcome.
While Gracie headed for the ladies room, Beau sat on the opposite side of the booth so he could have a better view. He chuckled to recall the expression on her face when hed asked for her keys. Boy, hed really caught her off guard with that one. Of course shed been planning another escape. Running straight for that cooking thing.
Seeing her, being near her, brought to mind memories of how things had been with Ingrid. The luminescence of pending motherhood. The luster of her hair. The rattler-type snap when coming between her and her food. How long had it been since hed recalled happy memories about that time?
Still grinning, Beau shook his head.
The waitress approached. Need any pie?
You know, Beau said, thatd really hit the spot. Got anything chocolate?
Chocolate cream guaranteed to curl your toes.
In that case, he said with a wink. Better get two. My friend doesnt like to share.
She laughed. When it comes to pie, I dont blame her.
The pie came, and in Beaus case, went. The waitress had been rightit was damned good.
He eyed the bathroom. Gracie had been in there awhile. Should he call the waitress back over and ask her to check on his Southern belle?
He did just that.
And when the redhead returned with a funny look, telling him the ladies room was empty, if Beau had had three legs he wouldve kicked himself all the way back to Portland. How could he be so gullible?
How could Ms. Sherwood be so dumb?
He had her keys, so that left her sneaking away sometime during the thirty seconds in which hed wolfed down his pie, then hitching a ride with a stranger. Surely he came across as more trustworthy than some of the scary-looking characters around here?
Leaving a twenty and ten on the table, Beau headed outside, shading his eyes against blinding sun.
Heat hovered in undulating waves above the blacktop. Not the best weather for a pregnant lady to be out hitching a ride.
The lot looked quiet. Three semis. Two off, one with the engine idling, stinking up the place with diesel exhaust. An assortment of eleven passenger cars lined the restaurants front. Two more passenger cars were filling up at covered gas tanks. On the access road running alongside I-5, a silver minivan whizzed by.
Beau looked to his own vehicle, to the big, pink Caddie, hed blocked
What the?
Gracies car was gone. The bushes in front of it flattened. His SUVs grill all busted to hell. Shed even stabbed his drivers side front tire. He knew it had been her because of the pink-handled metal nail file still stuck in the rubber.
When had she given him the slip? While hed ordered pie? Common sense told him the bathrooms location meant it was an interior room with only one exit. How was it a chirpy blonde who had tongue issues with cold grease had so effortlessly gotten away from him not once, but twice?
And how long was it going to take for him to get his tire patched so he could once and for all teach Gracie Sherwood who was boss?
More importantly, how long until he finally got it through his head that just because Gracie was pregnant, that didnt mean he owed her special favors. Hed bent over backward trying to be kind to his wife, and look where thatd left him. He still hadnt been able to right the wrong between them. The even sadder truth was that even if hed wanted to, there was nothing he couldve done.
Chapter Two
Listen up, Beau said to Gracie through a still chain-locked door, six frick-frackin hours later, standing on the covered porch of a kitschy, roadside motel just south of Oregons Bandon State Park. Surrounded by a brooding fir forest, the brown and gray strip motel with plywood castle towers on either end and a moat-shaped pool with more moss than water looked like some Brothers Grimm fairy tale gone wrong.
It was only seven at night, yet in the shadows, felt more like midnight.
Gracie had parked her pink Caddie in front of her room.
Odds were, Beau never wouldve found her without a tip from a local cop whod spotted her car. The man had offered his assistance in bringing Gracie in, but after her latest slip, for Beau anyway, this case had gotten personal. Or maybe it had always been personal, he thought, swiping his fingers through his hair.
Seeing how the rest of the crew was scattered at least a hundred miles in all different directions, looked like he had the good fortune to be bringing Ms. Sherwood in all by himself. Its time you learned whos leading this mission. There are a lot of things Ill put up with, but this hide-and-seek games getting old, and What was that funny noise?
Was she crying?
Oh, man, if his momma had still been alive to see this, shed thump him upside his head. His dad still could, for making this little bitty pregnant thing sob.
Ingrid never once cried. Not during the entirety of her cruelly sterile speech.
T-thats sowait, Gracie said, noisily unhooking the chain. I cant even speak. Whatever kind of girly cry she had going, it grew steadily worse until Beau felt two inches tall. On his list of things he didnt do, making women cry was at the top. Oh my gosh, youre funny. Thanks. I havent had a belly laugh like that inwell, since never. At least not in the recent past.
Funny? She called that donkey braying laughter? At his expense?
Door open, he brushed past her and stormed into the room, wanting for some unfathomable reason to be put off by peeling, smoke-stained wallpaper and the busted-tile bathroom usually indicative of this sort of hole-in-the-wall establishment. What he got was a scene from Southern LivingMTV style.
Shed draped silky-looking scarves over lamps, lending the place an exotic glow. The germy motel bedspread had been replaced with faux fur. Mink? On top of that were a half-dozen pillows, all embroidered with quirky sayings like, Woman cannot live on chocolate aloneShe needs shopping, too!
As if all of that wasnt enough, the smell wasfantastic? Some heavenly concoction simmering on a two-burner kitchenette stove sent his ravenous stomach into a growling fit. Too bad he was here to drag her back to Portland and not to eat!
You haul all of this stuff around with you? he asked.
Stepping inside, Gracie shut the door. His one question turned her smile upside down. This stuff, my cooking gear and a few clothes were all I brought into my marriage, so thats all I took when it was over.
Sure, he said with a nod.
Sure? She shook her head. I tell you my life is over, and thats all you have to say?
Shed paraded spicy-smelling candles across the top of the TV, and he sliced his finger through the flames. Sorry. But that doesnt change the fact that youre returning to Portland with me. Now.
No.
Excuse me?
Im exhausted. Ive been driving all day. I still have a couple more sauce variations to try tonight. If you insist on dragging me back, Ill go peaceablybut in the morning.
Fair enough, he said, but was he a fool for taking her at her word?
Suddenly, standing there, looking at her, there wasnt enough air in the room. Her candles and the rich sauce were eating it all.
The size of her stomach and glow of her skin were similar to Ingrids, but thats where the resemblance ended. Ingrid had been out for Ingrid. Period. But Gracie, this drive of hers to win a contest was all for the sake of her babyso that he or she could live a better life. A safer life. Beau admired the hell out of her. And wanted to know more about her than the bland fare found in her file.
If you have to stay, she said, you might as well make yourself at home. She was back in the tiny yet workable kitchen, dumping pasta shed had bubbling on the back burner into a colander shed already set in the sink. The TV only gets five channels, but I guess thats better than nothing.
He shrugged.
Had she always been so pretty? Had so many curls? Shed cupped her hands to her big belly, cast him a half grin that lit her whole face. He wanted to stay mad at her, but she was like a too cute kittenonly she wasnt a cat, but a woman. Had she been a cat, he wouldve just played with her. Stroked her fur and scratched behind her ears. Just thinking about what Gracie would do to him if he tried either of those activities made him smile.
His ex had been hard as nails. No petting allowed.
Mind letting me in on the joke? she asked, glancing over her shoulder while giving her brew a stir.
Nah. But thanks for asking. He winked.
She frowned. Fine. Dont tell me. Back to stirring, she hummed a soft, nonsensical tune.
I wont.
Why do you have to be so obstinate? she asked, wiping her hands on an industrial-type white apron, then crossing the room to switch on the TV with a remote.
Wasnt aware I was being anything.
Youre obviously uptight, she said, switching past news, Wheel of Fortune and an infomercial, finally landing on a black and white movie. What you need is a good meal. A nice bottle of wine. Youre all cranked up inside.
Cranked up?
Yeah, you know, stressed out. Uptight. At the very least, have a seat, or else its going to be a very long night.
Already has been, he said, turning his back on her to peer behind curtains. All quiet save for his erratic pulse. If they were staying the night, hed feel better if the cars were parked in back, out of casual sight. Odds were Vicentes goons were miles from here, but better safe than sorry.
Anything exciting going on? she asked from her perch on the foot of the bed. Parades? A tailgate party?
Give me your keys, he said. This time, your car keys.
Oops, she said with a big, cheesy grin. Im bad.
Yes, you are, he said. So give me both sets.
Id be happy to if youd be so kind as to hand me my purse.
He did, and she took her time fishing through the jangling contents, eventually catching two sets of keys, just as hed requested.
Here you go. She dangled them.
Finally some cooperation out of the woman.
Just one more thing, he said. Hate doing this, but in your case, it has to be.
From his jeans back pocket, he withdrew cuffs.
Oh, no, she said, scrambling back into the pillow pile. No way youre cuffing me. I have to keep stirring my sauce. And anyway, I havent done anything wrong.
Are you kidding me? Youve done everything wrong. Before she escaped again, he cuffed her left wrist, then secured the free cuff to the wall-mounted lamp. He hated doing this, hated using such a flimsy hold. Had she been a manhell, if she hadnt been so pregnant and vulnerable lookinghe wouldnt have thought twice about forcing her under the open kitchen sink counter to secure her to the pipes.
I have every intention of testifying at my ex-husbands trial, she said. But until then, Ive got things to do. All I did in running from you was fight for my right to live life on my own terms. Is that so bad?
It is when youre putting that life at risk. Now, sit tight for about three minutes, then Ill free you. Look, he said, turning for the stove. To prove Im a nice guy, Ill even turn off the burner so whatever youre cooking doesnt burn.
Lucky me, she said with a wag of her cuffed wrist. Here I dont even know your name and youre already handy in the kitchen and getting kinky in bed.
For the record, he said at the door, I can get a lot kinkier than this. And the name is Beauregard Logue. Friends call me Beau.
That mean were friends? she asked with a hopeful smile.
You can call me, Mister Logue.
No, Gracie said under her breath not five seconds after the beast strolled out the door. Ill call you out of my life.
Easing upright, she used her free hand to turn off the lamp, unscrew the finial and remove the shade.
Ouch! The bulb was hottook forever to get out seeing how she had to keep stopping for wince breaks. After yanking out the harp, freeing herself was a simple matter of lifting her arm eight inches.
Peering through the doors peephole, she watched Marshal Beau drive around back.
Once he was out of sight, she flew into action. Running out the front door to her car, then grabbing the spare key from the magnetic box she kept under the drivers side wheel wellshe was awful about locking her keys in the car.
Now came the tricky part. Sure, she could head right back out on the road, but shed be caught faster than she got gas after eating broccoli.
No, this time, shed have to be more creative. And so instead of turning south on the highway, she turned north, pulling her car into an abandoned junkyard, camouflaging the pink in a sea of rust and primer gray. Thick, conifer-scented woods circled the cars, and in midday, she was sure the place had a quaint feel, but at the moment, she had a major case of the creeps.
She waited an hour in muggy dusk, the whole time swatting at whiny bugs until her entire body felt coated with grit and mosquito bites. Until dust and dirt ground between her teeth and she tasted it on her tongue. Only then, in rapidly fading daylight, did she figure it was safe to return to the motel for her stuff. Certainly Marshal Beau was long gone.
Everything that meant anything to her was in that room. Photos and diaries and recipes. Pricey pans and accoutrements. A few pieces of jewelry she hoped to pawn for the cash shed need to get her the rest of the way to San Francisco. From there, her hotel room was prepaid, and with luck, shed have the prize money to get her home.
She parked around back, trudged up to the front desk for another key, explaining to the clerk that shed locked the first one in the room.
By the time she slipped the key into the lock, Gracie was beyond tired. Her feet were swollen, her lower back aching, and she could really have gone for a Caesar chicken salad and French onion soup. As for her cream sauce experiments, all she could do at this point was toss it all and start fresh wherever she stopped tomorrow.
In the room, she headed straight for the bathroom sink. It would take ten days to scrub all the junkyard grime from her face. She brushed her teeth, too. She needed a shower, but the mere thought seemed too energetic.
After securing her long mess of naturally curly hair in a scrunchie, she slipped off her shoes and headed for bed. Surely shed feel better after a nice, long snooze?
Only after turning around and getting her first good look at the bed, she found that not only was her fuzzy faux-mink spread missing, but also the scarves shed put over the lamps and her pillows andshe stormed to the bathroom. Hed even taken her ultra-fluffy pink towels and no, even he wouldnt have sunk that low
Running for the suitcase shed stashed in a small closet, she yanked open the door and couldnt have felt lower if the man had socked her in the stomach.
Shoulders sagging, the tears shed been too stubborn to shed since the start of this whole ordeal finally spilled.
Her recipes.
The creep had taken her recipesnot only that, but also all of her cooking gear.
The CAI contest was unique in that you couldnt fully prepare before arrival. There were one hundred and ninety-three chefs, each representing the globes countriesunlike the U.S., the CAI recognized Taiwan. In each of five rounds, the ethnic theme of her meals was determined by luck of the draw. She could draw Ethiopia. India. Greenland. In her recipe journal was years of research. Without it, she might as well not even go to San Francisco. What was the point when she didnt have a prayer of winning?
Jeez, her back hurt. And now, her head and heart.
Why had Marshal Beau done this?
How could he be so cruel?
She sat hard on the foot of the bed, cradling her forehead in her hands.
Who was she trying to kid? Vicentes capture had been big news. His spectacular prison break even bigger. As his ex-wife, the woman carrying his baby, Gracie had been in the news right along with him. For all she knew, the world-renowned Culinary Arts Institute might have rescinded her invitation without even letting her know. Hers was a type of publicity they didnt want.
On the flip side, she owed it to this tiny life growing inside to at least try.
Freeing her hands to rub her bulging tummy, she looked up toward the dresser and TV. Sitting beneath her favorite bottle of perfumethe only non-essential item left in the roomwas a note written on a yellow legal pad.
Want your stuff? Lets make a deal.
Meet me at the Fish Tale Motel
in Orick, California. Noon tomorrow.
Your Fave Marshal.
Instead of the customary signature at the bottom of his note, hed drawn a smiling stick guy bearing a star-shaped badge on his chest. Of all the nerve
Hed stolen everything she owned and thought shed be happy about it? Ohshed meet him all right, but if he thought for one second shed peaceably return to Portland with him, he had about as much brain power as his stupid, smiling stick man!
BOUT TIME yall got here, Marshal Beau said with a slow grin and that infuriating imitation of her accent. Granted, shed poured it on thick the morning shed locked him in that storage closet, but it hadnt been that thick.
Wheres my property? she asked from behind the wheel, shading her eyes against blinding noon sun. Their appointed meeting spot was an even more tired establishment than the last one shed stayed at.
The Fish Tale Motel was on the outskirts of the bustling tourist town of Ulmsteadlocated in the heart of redwood country. The towering redwood setting was spectacular, sweet-scented and warm; it was almost enough to make the giant log cabin, with its tattered green roof, charming. An abandoned mini-waterslide had been filled with pungent yellow marigolds.
Get out, Marshal Beau said, then Ill show you.
If its all the same to you, Id just as soon you put it in my trunk.
And then you drive off into the sunset?
She laughed. Its high noon. Theres a ways to go before nightfall.
You know what I mean. He braced his hands on the side of her door. Strong hands, with long elegant fingers. His muscular forearms were tan, a few light hairs mixed among the dark, glinting in the sun.
Yes, she thought, licking her lips. A few seconds earlier shed known exactly what hed meant, but somewhere between his biceps and broad shoulders, shed totally lost track of her thoughts.
Get out, he said. Please.
She sighed. You, please, cut me some slack. I feel eighteen months pregnant, according to you, my husbands trying to kill me and I havent had a decent meal in two days.
Wait just a sec, Beau said, jogging the fifteen feet to his black SUV.
He soon headed back her way bearing a large grocery sack. This is for you, he said, but only if youll at least get out long enough to talk to me.
Im not stupid, she said, thumping her forehead against the steering wheel. I get out, youll slap cuffs on me. Thatll be it. My whole life instantly ruined.
Look he knelt, resting his forearms on her door Ill level with you. Youre not going to like it, but for your own good, it has to be said.
What? She made the mistake of raising her head to meet his eyes. They were amazing eyes. Deep walnut with flecks of mossy-green. Above all, they were kind, not the eyes of a man deadset on destroying her life.
Gracie Sherwood, this isnt a game. Your ex-husband wants to kill youand your baby.
I have to get to that competition, she said, refusing to let his words sink in. And anyway, how would Vicente or his supposed hired thugs ever even find me?
I did. Youre a looker, driving a look-at-me car. Believe me, youre not too hard to find.
Then whyd you have to steal my stuff to get me back?
I didnt, he said. All I had to do was temporarily store your belongings in my car, then wait. I knew it was just a matter of time till you returned.
So all night and day youve been right behind me?
Pretty much.
Who else?
He looked away.
Tell me.
So far, one suspicious guy in a forest-green Hummer.
And? she asked, looking toward the busy highway. Where is he now?
He, ah, turned off around Fort Dick.
Uh-huh. Which only proves my point that Vicentes no fool. He wants nothing more to do with me. What happened back in Portland was no doubt some last chance, desperation effort designed to scare me, which it did. Ive left townfor all my ex knows, for good.
Marshal Beau sighed. Ever heard that saying about the calm before the storm? Right now, you happen to be in the sunand Im not complaining, but your ex isnt known for being a warm, fuzzy kind of guy. If you come with me now, youll have a team of folks to keep you safe. If not He shrugged.
She bravely raised her chin. I guess, seeing how Im safe for the moment, Ill pick, not.
Chuckling, he said, Actually its not up for negotiation. I was trying to be nice, but
Nice? Gracie didnt have time for nice, so she grabbed for the bag bearing what she prayed were doughnuts, then gunned her engine. She might not get much of a lead, and hot Marshal Beau might still have her stuff, but the way she saw it, desperate times called for desperate measures. She had to get to San Francisco. Winning that contest was her and her babys only shot at a decent future.
BEAU PRESSED OFF his cell phone, sick after having to admit to the boss that hed lost Gracieagain. Only this time, it really wasnt his fault, but that of fierce tourist traffic. Hed kept up with her no problem for thirty miles, then at Steed Point, hed been cut off by a gang of parading preschoolers on tricycles celebrating Clean Air Day.
From there on, it was slow going. Checking every dirt crossroad for rising dust, signaling she mightve gone off the main path. In every town he approached, he checked every gas station, restaurant and motel for her caras did the other marshals assigned to the case.
It was ten that night when he got the call from Adam that theyd found her in an inland motel. Want me to cuff her and bring her in?
Resting his forehead on the steering wheel, Beau sighed.
At this point, he wasnt sure what to do.
God only knew why, but he had a soft spot for the woman. Shed proven herself to be a major pain in his derriere, but seeing how she was pregnant and all, he at least wanted her treated with kid gloves. She had a goal, which was way more than he could say for himself.
Sure, he had his career, but it wasnt enough. Not nearly enough. For as long as he could remember, hed wanted a real family. Like the one hed grown up in only better, because his future wife, the mother of his children, wasnt going to die like his own mom had.
In marrying Ingrid, hed thought himself well on his way to making his every dream come true. Funny how that so-called dream had turned nightmare.
Yeah, he said to his brother, I guess if it comes down to it, go ahead and cuff Gracie, but be gentle. I dont want her or the baby getting hurt.
Duh, Adam said. Whens the last time I banged up a His brothers sudden silence hit Beau hard. It was tough enough on Beau remembering whatd happened to the last woman Adam had been assigned. Beau couldnt imagine how his brother must feel. Yeah, he had woman problems, but at least Ingrid was still alive.
What happened to Angela wasnt your fault, he told Adam for the hundredth time. Couldve happened to any one of us. Now, with Gracie, just use common sense. Shes an itty-bitty thing. Crafty, but she doesnt bite.
BRO, Adam said an hour later just as Beau approached the miniscule town of Boynton where Gracie had finally been found. Youre not gonna believe this, but she got away again.
How? Beau asked.
I was just about to slap cuffs on her, when she bit me!
AT FOUR in the morning, while everyone else on the team had long since pulled over for naps, Beau was still out looking. For sure, Vicentes new crew wasnt sleeping. If they got to Gracie before him, well
Beau refused to think about it.
It was four thirty-seven by the digital clock on his dash when he pulled into the rear of a relic of a motel with individual cabins for rooms. On the outskirts of the Mendocino National Forest, the place was surrounded by more of the dark, eerie, dense forest that was starting to be a major pain in his ass when he spotted Gracies car behind the last unit.
He killed his lights and engine a few cabins back. Took his time getting out of his car, rolling his shoulders, trying to work out Gracie-induced kinks.
Every cabin save for one was dark, so he headed toward Cabin Eight with its bluish TV glow.
When shed been little, and sick or upset from a bad day at school, his sister Gillian had liked to fall asleep in front of the living room TV.
Maybe Gracie was the same?
He peered through the inch or so between the curtain and wall. A lone man sat up in bed, sipping a Coors.
Great. Now what?
Beau yawned. Rubbed his eyes. Headed for the motel office.
Of course, at this time of the morning it was closed, but he wailed on the bell regardless.
Im comin, Im comin. A wisp of an elderly woman who didnt at all match her booming, gravelly voice flicked on lights in a shabby reception area. You want me to open the door, she shouted through thin glass, show me you got money for a room.
How much? Beau asked.
Forty.
He flashed two twenties.
She unlocked the door.
Ill need your license, she said from behind a counter she could barely see over.
Heres the thing, he said, setting the cash on the counter. My wife is already here, so Ill just need the number of her room.
The clerk raised her eyebrows.
She forgot to charge her cell, otherwise, Id just call.
Tapping a vintage black rotary-dial parked beside his left elbow, she said, Here you go. Each cabin has its own line. Only one single gal girl staying with us tonight. She wrote a number on a pad that said Alpine Lodge across the top.
Beau flashed his star, then smiled. You know, I really hate waking her. How about you please tell me which cabin is hers.
How do I know that badge is real? For all I know, you bought it off the Web. You could be some serial killer.
Beau sighed. Never mind, maam. Thank you for your time.
He turned to leave.
Take your money. I dont deal with any of you late-night sickos.
Tucking the money in his wallet, Beau headed back out into the night.
One by one, he knocked on cabin doors. Housekeeping!
Get a life, bud!
Maintenance! Ive gotta unplug your john!
Screw you!
Five doors later, a cop pulled into the dirt lot, lights and siren blazing.
Good girl, Beau said under his breath about the desk clerk hed apparently correctly pegged as the type to call the law on him.
Freeze! the cop said, gun and flashlight aimed at Beau as he emerged from his car. Okay, now slowly raise those hands.
Wincing from the blinding light, Beau did as hed been told.
Glancing off to his left and right, out of the lights glare, he saw that just as hed hoped, lamps flicked on and draperies parted in all but cabins Three and Fifteen. The former had been the one Gracies tank was parked closest to, so Beau deduced Cabin Three was hers.
The cop asked, Mind telling me what youre doing out this hour of the night, knocking on sleeping citizens doors?
Beau said, Im a deputy U.S. Marshal down from Portland.
Right. Rolling his eyes, the cop said, And Im Santa. Lets see some ID.
Beau obliged, and five minutes later, after the officer made a few calls and found his story checked out, Beau was free to go.
Ho, ho, ho, the now jovial cop said. Sorry to rain on your parade.
Not a problem, Beau said.
Once he was again alone, and all those lamps had gone out, Beau trudged to Cabin Three.
He gave Gracie the benefit of a courtesy knock, then worked magic on the lock with equipment he didnt officially have.
Inside, he quietly shut the door.
Gracie was sitting up in bed, hands curved around her bulging stomach, looking prettier, softer, more fragile than she ever had.
For an instant he looked away, hating to think himself the cause of her grim expression. If only shed get it through that thick head of hers that he wasnt the problem, but the solution.
Im so tired of this, she said softly. And she did look tired. Even in the dim light leaking in from the Alpine Lodges blue neon sign, he saw circles under her eyes. Cant we just be friends?
I wasnt aware we werent.
She sighed. Come on, Beau. Enough games.
Were now on a first-name basis?
You know what I mean.
Yeah, he said, drawing the rooms one chair up to the head of the bed. I do.
So then this is it? You agree to let me go on to San Francisco? Alone?
He laughed.
This isnt funny, damn you, its my life.
Im not disputing that.
Then why are you acting this way? Like my wanting to take my hard-earned spot in a prestigious competition is wrong? I mean think about it, this is the Olympics for cooks. People kill for chances like As her words trailed off, she tucked her lower lip into her mouth.
Oh man, he said with a groan. Youre not going to cry, are you?
Maybe. She looked up, slaying him with her baby blues. Only in this light, he couldnt even really see them, just a shimmer. It was only in his mind those eyes could hurt him. And because he knew that, because he was savvy to her every trick, he pulled his cuffs from his back pocket and slapped one on her wrist.
This time, she laughed, only it wasnt at all funny sounding, but laced with raspy tears. I was trying to be serious. You know, open up. But its obvious you couldnt care less how I feel. All you care about is getting your man.
Yeah, but youre a woman, he said. All woman. Which was why he had to stay strong.
Im not going to run again, she said.
I know.
Her face brightened in a smile so hopeful, so lovely and pure that it clenched his gut with ridiculous desires. Silly stupid things like wanting to hold her and protect her and beat the crap out of anyone who dared ruin her pregnancys peace. Does that mean you finally trust me? That you agree I should do the competition?
No.
Then what? It has to mean something that you finally believe Im done running.
Oh. He flashed her a slow grin. It means something, all right. He slapped his free cuff on his own wrist. Means you can run all you want, but wherever you go, this time, Ill be with you.
Chapter Three
Beau groaned.
Gracie was crying. Big ol messy Southern belle tears just a little too over the top to be convincing.
When she got to the point in her show where she gazed up at him, batting long, tear-fringed eyelashes glinting in the light spilling in from the parking lot, he yanked the hand cuffed to her to his free one, flooding the now-silent room with bawdy applause. Woo-hoo!
He threw in an ear-splitting whistle, too.
Youre a beast, she spat, trying to roll over, taking him along for the ride.
Heymy arm doesnt bend that way, thank you very much.
And I wasnt crying for your entertainment pleasure, thank you very much!
Look, lady, how about we agree to disagree and call it a night?
I would, but Im cold. I cant sleep without my faux mink throw.
So youre wanting me to uncuff you long enough to go get it?
Yes, please.
He sighed. Ran his palm over the day and nights stubble on his jaw. Tell you what, you want that ratty old thing that bad, Ill be happy to walk outside with you to get it from my trunk.
But Im tired and my ankles are swollen.
Me, tooon both counts. He stood, yanked her arm sideways to allow himself the range of motion needed to jerk the spread off the extra bed, then the blanket. After lying down beside her, then covering them both, he growled, Night.
Im supposed to just lay here flat like this? I dont have enough pillows, and when my head isnt high enough, I always wake with heartburn.
Here, he said, yanking his own pillow out from under his head to awkwardly ram it under hers.
Thank you.
Yeah.
After a few moments blessed silence, Beau was finally nodding off when she sighed.
Instantly, he was awake. What?
Ill never be able to sleep like this. If only I could
Roll over.
What?
If I have to tell you again, Ill roll you myself.
She rolled, his arm flailed up at an awkward as hell angle, and because above all he was a gentlemen, not about to have this very pregnant woman accuse him of not having gotten adequate rest on his watch, he somehow managed to fall asleep.
Staying asleep was a whole other matter.
Quit, he mumbled when something kept rubbing his wrist.
Huh?
Whatever youre doing, knock it off.
Im just laying here, trying to
That! That little movement right there suspiciously close to Chinese water torture.
That? She giggled. Thats the baby, silly. Shes a night owl. Watch She flicked on the wall-mounted lamp on her side of the bed, then rolled onto her back and flung off the blanket. Just keep your eyes on my belly, andthere! Did you see that?
Damn, that was pretty cool. Will he do it again?
She. And probably. Just keep watching.
He or she did do it againand again.
Watching that all-too-familiar show did something to Beau. As did seeing the wisp of a smile curving the corners of Gracies lips. She was proud of this babyand she had a right to be. As hed thought many times with Ingrid, having something that big moving around in your gut didnt look all that comfortable.
Does it hurt? he asked with the next alienlike rise in her stomach.
Not at all, she said. More like tickles.
Well, that was good news.
I hope this turns out right for you, he said.
Me, too.
He made the mistake of meeting her big, blue stare, shimmering with unshed tears. A mysterious something in his own gut told him this time, her emotion was the real deal. And he hated that he was the one making her cry.
In the vast majority of his experiences with women, usually it turned out the other way around. Them making him cry. Not that hed actually boo hooedjust that hed felt miserable enough that if hed been of the crying persuasion, the night Ingrid dumped him for that stodgy partner of hers wouldve been a legitimate tear-worthy occasion.
It turned out the child shed carried for the past seven months, the child hed been celebrating as his own for the past seven months, wasnt really his, but her partners.
After that, how many times had he wished lifes tables could be turned? That he could be the one causing angst in a relationship? But now, even though this could hardly be called a romantic circumstance, he didnt like the thought of Gracie for real crying one little bit.
A duo of tears slid down her left cheek. Purely on reflex, he brushed them away.
Youre not going to let me go, are you?
Lips pressed tight, he shook his head.
That sucks, she said. But I guess youre just doing your job.
Trying, he said. But if its any consolation, Im not enjoying this any more than you. In fact, being forced up against her like this, her lush curves spread before him like a veritable smorgasbord of womanhood, his assignment was growing harder by the secondquite literally. As best he could, he shifted his fly, trying his damnedest to ignore the canyon of heat scorching his legs, chest and shoulder where their bodies touched.
Good, she said, casting him a sarcastic smile much more indicative of the woman whod locked him in a storage closet. Thank God. If shed maintained her softer side, hed have been in real trouble.
Ready for some sleep? she asked.
Yeah. Oh, hell yeah.
She turned off the light, pulled the blanket back up over her. He braced himself for her roll, and sure enough, there it was. With his arm back up at an awkward angle, his other elbow digging into his ribs, Beau closed his eyes and sighed, telling himself hed slept in worse places at far worse angles.
Finally, finally, hed drifted off to dreamland when
Marshal Beau?
Yes?
The light switched on. I really have to go to the bathroom.
IM NOT LEAVING MY CAR, Gracie said. Around ten the next morning the two of them stood in a chilly drizzle just outside her cabin.
She breathed deeply of fresh-washed, conifer-scented air, vowing today would be a great day. A normal day. Marshal Beau couldnt keep her cuffed forever. All she had to do was sit tight and plan another escape and shed soon be back on her way.
Marshal Beau pulled the cabins door shut. Gave her that look she was beginning to know and love. The one that said he was counting to ten in his head in a futile attempt to keep from strangling her. She knew the look because for the vast majority of the time theyd been together, shed been doing the same with him.
Ms. Sherwood, Ive called a tow truck, and your car will be safely garaged back in Portland. Your belongings are in the back of my vehicle. Im doing everything I can to be reasonable. Hell, I spent the whole night with my elbow up my ass trying to make you comfortable, but
You dont have to be crude. Im used to being around more refined men.
He snorted. Oh, so let me see, all of the sudden, your convicted murderer, drug-dealing, scum of a husband is a great guy because he
Pa-ching!
Shit! he hollered, roughly grabbing her upper arm. Get down.
Why? What was that?
A bullet. Attached to a gun with a silencer. Come on. Crouching behind shrubs, he pushed her in front of him, then pulled a gun from a shoulder holster and started firing.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Oh my God, oh my God Gracie chanted the phrase over and over. I didnt think any of this was real. That you were somehow just making it all up to get your way, but
Please, he said, lacing the fingers of their cuffed hands, then giving her a squeeze. Keep it together for me a little while longer.
I cant, I cant, I
He kissed her. Hard. Fast. You have to. Come on.
Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
See that black SUV? He pointed five cabins down.
You kissed me, she said, fingertips to her lips.
He shook his head.
Y-yes, yes, you did.
Pa-ching! Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
For cryin out loud, woman, it was just a kiss. It was the only way I could think to get your attention.
You couldve just slapped me, she hissed, still reeling from the shocking pleasure of him pressing his lips to hers.
Youd have rather I
Pa-ching!
W-what about the SUV? she asked.
He fished for something from his front jeans pocket, then pulled out a tiny key. If I let you loose, promise to do the smart thing and run for that car?
Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
She swallowed hard and nodded.
He unlocked the cuffs, and even though their hands were free, he squeezed her fingers again. On three, he said.
She nodded.
OneTwoGo!
Gracie ran for all she was worth, her marshal close on her heels, firing back.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Pa-ching! Pa-ching! Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
In the car, heart pounding, Gracie hunched down in her seat.
Seconds later, Beau hopped in beside her, slamming his door and starting the engine simultaneously.
You okay? he asked, revving the engine, throwing a rooster tail of gravel up behind them as he sped from the lot.
Afraid she couldnt speak past the wall of terrified tears blocking her throat, she nodded.
Pa-ching! Pa-ching!
Beau! Theyre following! Hurry!
Im doin the best I can, darlin. Put on your seat belt. Id do it for you, but
Yeah, she could see he was kind of busy.
He careened onto a side street.
Seconds later, made a sharp right.
Dammit, he mumbled. Theyre still back there.
At least theyre not shooting.
Pa-ching!
You were saying?
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE, Gracie said with a weak chuckle thirty minutes later, her breathing just now slow enough that she could speak without hyperventilating. At least we lost my ex-husbands associates.
Stopped on the shoulder of a dirt road winding through forest so thick they might as well have been in a tunnel, her marshal thumped his forehead against the steering wheel. Unfortunately with my cell not having a signal, weve also lost ourselves.
Heyyou were the one driving. All I did was sit here screaming.
Hed had his eyes closed, but opened one long enough to glare at her. Thanks.
Making the mistake of gazing out her window, Gracie found the woods looking tall, dark and spookylike one of those Bigfoot documentaries on The Travel Channel. Primeval ferns lined the road, and the only sound aside from a faint whoosh high in the Douglas fir, western red hemlock and Sitka spruce was the occasional rapid-fire hammer of a woodpecker somewhere in the gloom.
Far off thunder rumbled.
Gracie shivered.
Goose bumps covered her forearms, which then made her have to pee. Bad.
Not a good thing considering there wasnt a rest area, gas station or McDonalds anywhere in sight.
I really have to go to the bathroom, she said.
This time, Marshal Beau didnt even open one eye. He just sat there. Stone silent. Like the moss-covered boulders on the side of the road.
A sprinkle of fat raindrops hit the windshield, only worsening her need to pee.
Im not kidding, she said. Ive reeaally got to go. Im sure this is too much information, but the babys sitting on my bladder. I can only hold it for like twenty more secondstops.
Still nothing.
Are you even listening to me? She gave his shoulder a nudge. After which, he grunted before reaching for his side, revealing a dark, sticky substance all over the back of his navy marshals jacket. It was on the seat, too. Smudging the black leather.
Hands to her mouth, she shook her head.
Had he been shot?
But when?
How could she not have noticed? He hadnt been bawling with pain or anything. Hed just driven her to safety, all the while hed been sitting there bleeding toNo.
No bleeding to death in such an already creepy location. Especially when it was her fault hed been shot. The whole time shed been running from him, convinced he was only lying to get her back to Portland to testify, hed been telling the truththat she, and her babywere in danger.
The thought all at once made her hot, queasy and a little light-headed. But then she looked at the brave man beside her whod saved her life, and asked, Whats wrong with you? How can you just calmly be sitting there when youve been shot? Help me get your jacket off so I can see how badly youre hurt.
Im fine, he said, wincing while she slipped off his windbreaker. It had been chilly that morning outside the motel, but shed suspected hed put it on more to hide his shoulder-holstered gun than because hed been cold. Beneath the jacket was a shamrock-green T-shirt touting the Santa Clara Lucky Clovers, the right side of which was covered in a dark stain.
Getting a woozy Beau out of the drivers seat and around the front of the car was no easy feat.
Sucking her lower lip, she gingerly raised his shirt over his head to find a bloody mess. But thankfully it looked like the bullet had only grazed him. Nevertheless, his poor, bruised skin resembled a tenderized flank steak.
How bad is it? he asked in a scratchy voice.
If we can manage to prevent it from getting infected long enough to get you to a doctor, odds are youll survive. Got any bottled water?
He nodded. In the back.
Okay. Looks like the bleedings long since stopped, so lets get you washed up and laying down on the passenger side. Guzzle that water, and well find the nearest town and a doctor.
W-what about you?
What about me? Im not shot.
You going to run again?
Give me some credit, Beau. You couldve been killed protecting me. Yes, more than anything in the world, I want to attend the Culinary Olympics, but not at the cost of someones life. Especially not his. What hed done for her might all be in a days work for him, but
She was suddenly so overcome with emotion, she couldnt even think, just gaze at him like some dopey starstruck teen. It felt as if only just now had she really, truly seen him. His darkly handsome, whisker-stubbled profile and eyes as deeply brown as the forest around them.
.
.
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Laura Altom
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: The Way To A Man′s Heart?Ms. Grade Sherwood–eight months pregnant and counting!–is on the run from her mobster ex-husband and the U.S. Marshals who are supposed to be protecting her. No one is going to keep Gracie from winning the Culinary Art Invitational cooking competition–her one chance at making a fresh start for her and the baby.After a close call, U.S. Marshal Beauregard Logue finally convinces Gracie to stay close to him–which basically means he′s become her personal taster! Gracie has to stay focused on the contest, and on her pregnancy, but it′s hard to concentrate with a big handsome marshal asking her for seconds.Gracie′s falling for Beau, but have those feelings grown out of love or out of fear? And is this marshal willing to take on