Shielding her son, p.1
Shielding Her Son, page 1
“What kind of situation was there at my house last night?”
“There was someone skulking around your backyard,” James answered. “Don’t worry, I intercepted him before he made it inside.”
“Is that what happened to your eye?” Erika asked. “It looks painful.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Did Lance arrest the guy?”
“I’m sorry. He got away.”
A ripple of unease moved through her sore body. First the bridge collapsing and then someone trying to break into her house. Had she been found? Had Roger Overholt found her and Marcus?
The once familiar swell of panic rose in her throat, but she pushed it back down. Don’t overreact.
Erika Overholt had ceased to exist ten years ago. Erika Powell had hidden her trail well.
“You okay over there?” James eyed her from the driver’s seat.
“Yes,” she said, pulling herself back into the present. The pain medicine the doctor had given her had kicked in. Her headache was gone and her limbs no longer felt like lead. “Thank you for watching the house last night.”
“Not a problem. I just wish I’d caught him.”
SHIELDING HER SON
K.D. Richards
K.D. Richards is a native of the Washington, DC, area, who now lives outside Toronto with her husband and two sons. You can find her at kdrichardsbooks.com.
Books by K.D. Richards
Harlequin Intrigue
West Investigations
Pursuit of the Truth
Missing at Christmas
Christmas Data Breach
Shielding Her Son
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Erika Powell/Overholt—B and B owner hiding out from her deceased husband’s family.
James West—PI sent to confirm Erika’s true identity.
Marcus Powell—Erika’s son.
Roger Overholt—Erika’s former father-in-law and billionaire businessman.
Ronald Overholt—Erika’s deceased husband.
Lance Webb—Carling Lake sheriff.
Daisy Harding—Erika’s best friend.
Ellis Hanes—Rival B and B owner and businessman in Carling Lake.
To Justin
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Excerpt from Revenge on the Ranch by Carla Cassidy
Chapter One
“Just a little farther,” Erika Powell encouraged, shooting a glance over her shoulder. Daisy Hargrove, the town librarian and the closest thing Erika had to a best friend, followed several paces behind Erika.
“Ugh. You said that half a mile ago. My legs are ready to give out.” Daisy rubbed her back through her designer fleece, emphasizing her point.
Erika ignored her friend’s complaints. Daisy had been all for adding hiking to their regular exercise routine when Erika had suggested it in April, but as summer gave way to autumn and then a new year, her enthusiasm for the great outdoors had waned.
In fairness, they’d never walked this far or this long before, but a restlessness had settled over Erika several days ago that she hadn’t been able to shake. She’d hoped a nice long hike might help settle her nerves, but it hadn’t worked. Marching ahead anyway, she traversed the packed dirt path that cut through the twenty-seven acre plot of land she’d purchased two years earlier.
“I thought you wanted to lose ten pounds before spring,” Erika reminded her friend.
“I do,” Daisy huffed. “But I didn’t plan to lose them all in one day.” She stopped, hunching over with her hands on her knees.
Erika did a one-eighty, marching in place so her heart rate wouldn’t slow and she could see her friend. Daisy’s alabaster skin was flushed pink and a bead of sweat trickled from under the wool cap she wore despite the frosty January air. She and Daisy put truth to the saying “opposites attract” in almost every way. Daisy was twenty-nine, petite with a blond bob, and eyes as blue as a cloudless sky. A stark contrast to Erika’s five-foot-ten slim, muscled frame and brown skin. And those were just the physical differences. Daisy was gregarious and outgoing, but preferred to fill her down time indoors reading, a sought-after characteristic in a town librarian. Erika would much rather spend what little free time she had—after caring for her ten-year-old son, Marcus, and converting the large farmhouse they lived in into a bed-and-breakfast—exploring out among nature.
“Come on. The bluff is just up ahead, and the view is so worth it,” Erika cajoled. “This is one place that’s definitely going to be on the list of tours I offer my guests.”
Erika couldn’t stop a tiny thrill of excitement coursing through her when she thought about the B&B. Her B&B. Years of scrimping and saving, first to purchase the seven-bedroom, four-bathroom farmhouse just east of downtown Carling Lake were finally going to pay off.
Daisy started walking again. “I haven’t seen Sam’s guys working on the house lately. How are the renovations going?”
Erika felt her lips twist into a frown.
Daisy’s brows rose. “Uh-oh. That face. What happened?”
Erika blew out a heavy sigh. As excited about the B&B as she was, the renovations were another story. “Sam’s guys haven’t shown up to work on the house for a few days now. And Sam hasn’t been answering my calls.”
Daisy waved away her hand. “Oh, well, you know contractors. Sam’s pretty reliable, though. I wouldn’t worry.”
“All I do is worry lately. Starting the B&B is like having another child.” Erika kicked a rock on the dirt path. It rolled ahead of her. “The B&B’s location, on the Carling Mountain, surrounded by nature, literally steps away from the lake, is idyllic. And I’m hoping it leads some customers to choose Carling Mountain B&B over Ellis Hanes’s place in town.”
Daisy made a face as if she’d smelled something foul. “Is Ellis still giving you a hard time?”
“Is grass green?” Erika rolled her eyes and kicked the rock again, this time harder, sending it skittering into the tall brush along the sides of the trail. “He’s been telling anyone who’ll listen that my property isn’t zoned for a B&B.”
Daisy snorted. “Now I know that’s a lie. You and I went through the town records ourselves.”
To save attorney’s fees, Erika had done her own research into area zoning, local business regulations, variances and licenses. The former library had been of little help. But Daisy’s arrival a year ago had been a big boost to the fact-finding effort. Daisy had thrown herself into helping Erika with her research, calling the county and state authorities and facilitating interlibrary loan requests from other area libraries.
“The Dellosas ran their B&B out of your farmhouse for twenty-eight years,” Daisy said with a shake of her head. “The family that bought it from them used it as a private residence, but that wouldn’t change the zoning.”
Erika exhaled. “I know. I even had Warren McClaine look into it and he said the same thing.” Warren McClaine, like his father and grandfather, was the sole attorney with a practice in town. “I think Hanes was only trying to get a rise out of me.”
“Sounds like something that weasel would do. Don’t worry.” Daisy patted Erika’s shoulder. “Nobody listens to Ellis Hanes.”
“You haven’t lived in Carling Lake that long.” Word of mouth was important to any business in a small town and plenty of people in Carling Lake not only listened to Ellis Hanes, they were swayed by his opinion. The Hanes family was one of the town’s oldest and most distinguished families. The Carling Lake community was supportive, but there was still the small-town hierarchy to deal with. Their hotel and B&B bookended the town on either end and employed a significant number of residents. Although she’d lived in Carling Lake for ten years, to many residents, she was still a newcomer. An outsider.
Not that she minded. A bit of distance between her and her neighbors suited her just fine. She’d come to Carling Lake looking for a fresh start. A place where nobody would recognize her or ask too many questions about her past, and she’d found that. She was friendly with everyone, but only had a handful of people she’d call friends. And even they didn’t really know who she was.
And she planned to keep it that way. It was the only way she knew to keep Marcus safe.
“Are we there yet?” Daisy’s whine snapped Erika out of her morass. She chuckled.
Daisy was one of the handful of people Erika counted as friends. During the hours spent at the library researching zoning and hospitality regulations, she and Daisy had hit it off. Or to be more exact, Daisy had decided they were going to be friends, and Erika would soon learn there wasn’t much that Daisy wanted that Daisy didn’t get. If Erika were being honest with herself, she’d needed a friend. A real friend, not one of Marcus’s friend’s mothers, who’d engage in polite small talk while the kids had a playdate, but someone that was hers and hers alone.
She’d shared more about her life before Carling Lake with Daisy than with anyone else in the world. Not enough for Daisy to put the pieces together and figure out who she really was, but she hadn’t wanted to outright lie to her only friend in town. Obfuscate was a better word to describe it. If Daisy noticed Erika’s evasions, she never mentioned it.
“Just around this bend,” Erika said, leading the way to one of her favorite spots.
She inhaled, taking in the smell of pine and wet grass, which was as invigorating as a cup of hot coffee in the morning. Birds called to each other and some distance away she heard the faint sound of a branch snapping under the footstep of an animal far larger than a bird. A black squirrel scampered across the well-worn dirt path in front of her. A crow circled overhead. The forest burst with life and, aside from being with Marcus, there was nowhere Erika would rather be.
The path curved, and a gully came into view, feet away. Whatever water had created the deep ravine had ceased to flow long before she’d purchased the property. But the rope bridge someone had strewn from one side of the gully to the other remained, for which Erika was grateful. If it hadn’t been there, she may have never seen the view from the bluff on the other side. As far as she was concerned, it was as close to heaven on earth as she was likely to find.
Daisy huffed her way to Erika’s side. “Okay, what is it you dragged me all the way up here to see?”
“This.” Erika spread her arms wide, feeling as if she could almost wrap them around the forest.
One of Daisy’s eyebrows rose in a sharp arc. “A dried-out gully?”
“No. Not the gully. The view. Come.” Erika moved toward the rope bridge. “It’s better on the other side.”
Daisy eyed the wood slats with undisguised suspicion. “Are you sure that thing is safe?”
“Of course.” Erika threw the words over her shoulder as she started across. “I come out here a couple of times a week.”
The bridge swayed in answer as the wooden boards creaked under her feet.
Erika glanced back, looking to make sure Daisy was following, but a sharp cracking sound had her head snapping back around.
The walkway in front of her fell away.
Instinctively, she reached out for the rope beside her, but her hands only skimmed it before it disappeared. Her legs scissored, desperate to find solid ground. A scream tore from her throat.
And then she was falling, her slim form cutting through the air like a knife.
She felt the impact of her body meeting the gully’s floor, but what she’d remember when she finally regained consciousness was the searing flash of pain that ricocheted through her skull just before the darkness descended.
Chapter Two
James West wrapped his hands around his second cup of coffee for the morning. Tucking his scarf into the collar of his fleece, he stepped onto the back porch of the small, rented cabin and drew in a deep breath. As he had the past five mornings since arriving in Carling Lake, he’d driven into town before the sun rose over the mountains and had breakfast at the diner, but he’d grown fond of lingering over a second cup of joe and watching nature greet a new day.
It was a morning routine that he thought he could get used to, even if he wasn’t thrilled by the reason he was in Carling Lake. He’d known working for his family’s security and private investigation firm was only a temporary career move when he’d taken the job after leaving the military. But his current assignment, essentially spying on Erika Powell, the single mom who owned the farmhouse next door to his rental, left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. That he’d felt an instant attraction to Erika the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Well, that potentially posed a different problem.
He leaned against the porch railing and watched the sun finish climbing over the mountains. A flash of something moved in the trees beyond the yard. A woman bolted out of the woods.
James recognized her as Daisy Hargrove, the town librarian and, based on the frequency of her visits to Erika’s house, a friend of his neighbor. He also recognized the expression on her face. Fear.
The woman started for Erika’s house but pivoted his way when she caught sight of him. James set his coffee down and hopped over the porch railing, meeting the woman in the middle of the backyard.
“Help me, please,” she rasped, her breathing labored from running.
James reached out a hand, steadying her while scanning the tree line for threats. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” He wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was frightened and, if there was a threat, they were both sitting ducks out in the open like this.
The woman gripped his arm, stopping him from leading her inside. “No. We have to help Erika. The bridge over the ravine fell while she was on it. She’s hurt. I couldn’t get cell service, but she’s not moving. She didn’t answer me when I called out to her.”
James had come across the ravine and the rope bridge the woman was referring to on one of his hikes through the forest. The drop was at least six or seven feet onto packed ground below.
James stepped away from the woman and toward the trees. “Call an ambulance. You can use the landline in my cabin. Then stay here so you can direct the EMTs to the gully.”
He plunged into the woods at a run.
The gully was approximately a ten-minute hike from the cabin, but at a run, he made it in less than half that time.
The posts that had anchored the bridge on either side of the ravine still stood, but there was no bridge between them.
James’s gaze swept down and he sucked in a sharp breath. Erika lay sprawled on the ground below.
“Erika,” he shouted, hoping for a response but not expecting one. His pulse raced. She remained deathly still and unresponsive.
James navigated down the side of the ravine as quickly as he could without tumbling down himself. Her body was angled away from him, but he didn’t see any sign of her breathing.
He reached beneath her coat collar and pressed two fingers to her neck.
Relief flooded through him when he found a weak but steady beat there.
“Erika, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes now.”
Still no response.
He took stock of her potential injuries. Her light brown skin was sallow and blood matted the hair at her temple, the splatter on the rock next to her head revealing the cause.
He pulled his scarf from around his neck and pressed it to her wound. “Help is on the way.”
He hoped he wasn’t lying to her. An impact hard enough to draw blood and cause unconsciousness wasn’t good. She needed medical attention now. His cell was in his back pocket, but he struggled to get service in the cabin, so it did not surprise him when he, like Daisy, failed to get a signal.
The end of the rope from the bridge caught his eye. He slanted toward it, careful not to touch it. Only a small part of the thick rope’s edge was frayed. Most of the end was even.
As if a sharp blade of some sort had cut almost all of the way through it.
The sound of footsteps and voices drew James’s attention to the top of the ravine.
“Here. She’s down here,” James called up the hill.
A man came into view, his bright orange skullcap marking him as an EMT.
James shifted his gaze back to Erika. “Hang in there. You’re going to be alright. Help is here now.”
Stepping back so the EMTs could take over, he studied the fallen bridge more closely. One end of the broken piece looked slightly frayed, but most of the fibers had smooth ends as if they had been sliced through as opposed to fraying over time.
James’s senses buzzed, a feeling he’d learned not to ignore after four tours in Afghanistan. There was a chance, a good one if his gut was correct, that Erika’s fall wasn’t merely an accident.
He took several pictures with his phone and then hurried to help the EMTs carry the backboard Erika now rested on.
