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  Rainie couldn’t drive. She was shaking too badly. Instead of keying the ignition to make her getaway, she just sat there, trembling and battling tears. She was inexpressibly grateful that Parker Harrigan had let her go, but she couldn’t erase one of his warnings from her mind: Her next employer might not be as understanding when her references didn’t check out. At least Parker had promised not to expose her. The thing was, could she trust him?

  Rainie found it difficult, if not impossible, to trust another man. When she remembered how easily Peter had duped her, she felt like an imbecile. Oh, how excited she’d been when he first called, asking if she would accept an internship at Barrestol International. Barrestol, a Seattle-based company, had been at the top of Rainie’s dream list of fabulous places to work when she finally got her degree. During her last quarter of studies before graduation, she had interviewed with one of the company’s scouts, but despite her high GPA, she hadn’t expected a job offer. Having someone from Barrestol offer her an internship had seemed too good to be true. Hello. When things seemed too good to be true, they usually were.

  Parker Harrigan fell into that category. I won’t rat you out. What was in it for him? That was the question. Recalling the speculative look in his eyes when he’d studied her the day before yesterday, Rainie had to wonder if his motives were honorable. As much as she needed a job, she wouldn’t participate in any workplace hanky-panky to keep it.

  Rainie’s heart leaped when the passenger door of the Mazda suddenly opened and Parker swung onto the seat beside her. To her frightened eyes, he looked a yard wide at the shoulders. In the faded Wranglers and wash-worn work shirt, he also looked lean and muscular in a way that city-dwelling males usually didn’t. He flashed one of those charming grins that never failed to jangle her nerves.

  “Hi,” was all he said.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “Nothin’.” He winked at her and extended a hand. A small silver flask rested on his broad palm. “I’ve been watchin’ you through the window, and I decided you might need a drink to settle your nerves.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Whiskey,” he informed her, “is a great sedative.”

  “I still have to drive home. The last thing I need is a DUI.”

  “A couple of belts won’t raise your blood-alcohol level enough to get you in any trouble.” He pushed the flask at her again. “Loosen up a little, Anna. You’re runnin’ on raw nerves. If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that I can never make smart decisions when I’m upset.”

  “I’ve already made my decision.”

  “To leave, you mean?” He uncapped the flask and took a gulp of the whiskey. As he swallowed, he rubbed the mouth of the container clean with the sleeve of his shirt. “That is an option, I reckon, but to be honest, I don’t think it’s the smartest choice you can make.”

  He offered the flask again, and this time Rainie accepted it. She took only a small sip of the liquor, but he was right: It warmed the cold places within her and made her feel calmer. She followed the first sip with a second and then returned the flask to him.

  As the whiskey did its work, he began talking softly. “Judgin’ by the condition of your car, I think you’re in sore need of a regular paycheck.” He angled a questioning look at her. “That isn’t to say you can’t find another job, but in my experience, it’s always better to bank on a sure thing. I’m a sure thing.”

  “Are you?” The instant she posed the question, Rainie wondered if the liquor had loosened her tongue. “I know nothing about you, Mr. Harrigan.”

  “True, so let me tell you a few things about myself. First off, like I said earlier, if you’re on the run from some bastard with a penchant for punchin’ women, I’ll support you in any way I can. I gave you my word that I won’t rat you out, and my word is my honor.” His mouth twisted into a self-deprecating smile. “I know it’s a corny old sayin’, and most people don’t really mean it. But I’m a Harrigan.”

  “A Harrigan,” she echoed. “Does that make you special somehow?”

  “Not special, exactly. It’s just that my dad is an old-fashioned man, and he’s drilled the importance of honesty into me all my life. In his opinion, a man who doesn’t stand behind his word isn’t worth the powder it’d take to blow him to hell. That’s one reason I kind of lost it for a few minutes when I discovered you’d lied on your application. In my family, lyin’ isn’t okay.”

  “So why are you so willing to forgive me for it?”

  His gaze held hers for a long moment. “Because I think you’re in a world of trouble and need a friend,” he said quietly. “As much stock as I put in honesty and integrity, Anna, I’m not so sanctimonious that I blame someone for doin’ what they must to survive. Sometimes that means lyin’ on a job application so you can put food on the table.”

  “And that’s it? You just want to help me out, no strings attached?”

  His gaze went dark with emotions she couldn’t name. He stared at her for so long that her skin started to prickle. “You’ve been to hell and back. Haven’t you?”

  Hell didn’t describe where she’d been, but she resisted the urge to tell him that.

  “You can count on me,” he assured her. “Take all the time you need to think it over. Just know that the job is still yours if you want it. All I’ll ask is that you give me a name to call you that you’ll actually answer to.”

  Rainie couldn’t remember not responding to the name Anna, but she supposed it was possible. It wasn’t her real name, after all.

  She didn’t know what possessed her, but she heard herself say, “In my other life, my name was Rainie.”

  “Rainie.” He said it slowly. Then he nodded. “It suits you. You don’t look like an Anna.”

  He opened the car door and got out of the vehicle. Before walking away, he leaned down to say, “I hope you’ll show up for work in the mornin’. Good bookkeepers don’t grow on trees, and I’m in sore need of one.”

  Rainie tossed her purse down on the table and went immediately to pick up Thomas, who’d taken to staying in the house most of the time. He still felt painfully thin when she ran her hands over his body, but she was heartened by the sheen already returning to his fur.

  “If I keep that job, I’ll be able to buy you gourmet cat food,” she whispered to him, “and all the expensive tuna you can eat.”

  Thomas meowed and licked her cheek with his rough tongue.

  “I don’t know what to do, little friend. I wish you could give me some advice.”

  But Thomas put forth no pearls of wisdom. Rainie carried him to the living room for a snuggle on the sofa. She didn’t know why holding him lent her comfort. Maybe it was simply feeling his warmth against her.

  “I should probably just pack up and leave town,” she mused aloud. “But if I do that, I’ll have no guarantee that he won’t eventually recognize me on television and turn me in. That means I’ll need to change my name again, and a new name means a whole new set of identification. That will cost a bundle, and it’ll take time. Stan would have to get me another birth certificate and passport. That could take weeks.”

  Thomas burrowed close and started to purr.

  “On top of that, moving again will be expensive. Even in a low-rent district, the first and last months’ rent and deposits add up. I’m already low on funds. I’m not sure how far the Mazda will make it without breaking down. How in the world can I afford to relocate?”

  As though he sensed her distress, Thomas meowed softly.

  “I could call Margaret or Janet for another loan, I suppose. But what if Peter has their phones tapped? If he suspects that I’m not dead, he’ll be watching them, hoping I’ll make contact.”

  After waffling back and forth between staying and running, Rainie finally decided to take a huge chance on Parker Harrigan. If he turned out to be a jerk, she’d be in no more trouble than she already was. If, by some miracle, he was actually all that he claimed to be, then she and Thomas co
uld remain in Crystal Falls until she got back on her feet financially.

  The following morning when Rainie showed up for work, the indoor arena was a hive of activity. Two men lunged horses in the riding area, and five other people, two males and three females, worked busily in the stalls, forking hay, shoveling manure into wheelbarrows, and rinsing out what looked like water troughs. Just as Rainie started to cross the arena, Parker emerged from a stall. He grinned, waved, and then held up a hand, signaling her to stay put. As he strode toward her, she couldn’t help but notice how devastatingly attractive he was in his Wrangler jeans and Stetson. He walked with a lazy grace, his strides long, his lean hips moving with well-oiled precision. Even at a distance, his twinkling brown eyes and white-toothed grin had an impact on her. He was the kind of man who could make women lose their heads. Determined not to join their ranks, Rainie reminded herself that denim and chambray weren’t her thing, no matter how handsome the man wearing them was.

  “Mornin’,” he said as he closed the distance between them. “I need to install a rear personnel door so you don’t have to walk through this three-ring circus every mornin’.”

  “I’ll learn the ins and outs.”

  He grasped her elbow to guide her around the horses. “Main thing is to remember that horses can spook if you walk up behind them without givin’ ’em a heads-up. Also remember that they’re big animals with four feet. You ever been dancin’ and gotten your toes stomped on?”

  Rainie suppressed a smile at the question. Was he real, this man? He acted as if the events of yesterday had never happened. The knot of tension in the pit of her stomach loosened slightly. “A couple of times.”

  “Well, it hurts a lot worse when it’s a horse doin’ the stompin’.” He steered her clear of a yellow-brown horse with a black mane and tail that was trotting in circles. “So it’s best to cut a wide circle around a prancin’ equine until you know the animal.”

  “And once I know the animal?” She glanced up to see the glint of humor in his eyes. “How will that save my feet?”

  “Because you’ll recognize which horses are clumsy and which ones aren’t. It takes a certain amount of agility to know where all four of your feet are at all times.”

  Rainie had never thought of it that way. “I suppose it must. I have enough trouble controlling only two.”

  He drew her to an abrupt stop to avoid a collision, then urged her forward at a faster clip to vacate the area. “Not to say that many of my horses are clumsy. I’d trust most of ’em to tap dance around a baby without touchin’ a hair on its head. But I’ve got a couple with four left hooves.”

  “Which ones are they?”

  He chuckled. “For now, consider all of them to be clumsy. I don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

  “I’ll avoid them. You really don’t need to put in a rear door.”

  They reached the hallway that led to the office, and he released his hold on her arm and thrust out a hand. “Before you go, can I have your car keys, please?”

  The knot in Rainie’s stomach instantly returned. She searched his gaze, wondering if he’d seen her face on the news and wanted her keys so she’d be unable to escape before the police could arrive. “What do you want them for?”

  “That Mazda is throwin’ enough oil to settle the dust on a two-mile stretch of dirt road. You can’t depend on a car without doin’ some maintenance on it now and again.”

  “I can’t afford to do any repairs on it right now.”

  The dimple in his lean cheek deepened to a long crease. “I had that figured.”

  “So the oil problem will have to wait.”

  He rubbed beside his nose and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Well, now, that’s up for debate.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Here’s my thinkin’ on the subject. If you keep drivin’ that Mazda in the shape it’s in, you’re gonna break down on your way to work, sure as rain is wet. When that happens, who you gonna call?” He thumbed his chest. “Yours truly, that’s who. And chances are it’ll be early in the mornin’ when I’m back at the house, fixin’ my breakfast. Not that I’d hold it against you. Don’t think that. But I gotta tell you two things, the first bein’ that I don’t like missin’ a meal, the second bein’ that I’m a piss-poor mechanic. Not quite as bad at mechanics as I am at bookwork, but it’s a close call. You know what that means?”

  Rainie found herself struggling not to smile again. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  He nodded. “It means that I’ll raise the hood, stare at the engine, kick dirt, and cuss a blue streak before I finally have the good sense to tow you to the ranch. By that time, we’ll both have lost a good hour of work, and I’ll be in a foul mood till lunch. I hate when a vehicle breaks down and I can’t fix it. It’s just not manly, you know? Any rancher worth his salt ought to be able to fix most anything.” He paused to arch an inquiring eyebrow. “You with me so far?”

  Rainie couldn’t help it. She smiled. What was it about this man that made her want to laugh so often? “I think so.”

  “Good, because accordin’ to my brother Clint, I’m almost as bad at towin’ as I am at gettin’ cars to start. He’s got a harebrained idea that I should warn him before I stop.” Devilment danced in his brown eyes. “I keep tellin’ him that’s what brake lights are for, but he insists that the length of a tow chain gives the person I’m towin’ no time to react.”

  “I see.”

  “Yeah, me, too. But every time I tow somebody, I forget.” He paused to smile at her again. She was beginning to suspect that he practiced that sheepish grin in front of a mirror. “Bottom line is, you don’t want me towin’ you to the ranch. It could get ugly.”

  “Where are you going with this, Mr. Harrigan?”

  “Parker,” he corrected, “and I’m gettin’ to it. There’s also the thing about your tires. All four of ’em are balder than onions. You noticed that?”

  “I have, yes, but tires are expensive.”

  “Not around here, they aren’t. I’ve got enough old tires in the shed to build a pyramid to rival Tutankhamen’s.”

  “Why on earth do you keep old tires?”

  “Well, for one thing, they aren’t biodegradable. You can’t dump ’em just any old place. For another, we always change our tires before they go totally bald, and I hate throwin’ ’em away when they still have some tread on ’em. Seems wasteful, and I always think they may come in handy sometime in an emergency.”

  “And I’m an emergency?” she ventured.

  “Not yet. That’s my whole point, that you’re gonna be one unless you give me your keys so the ranch mechanic can give your car a good goin’-over.” He held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “Mac is on the payroll. He gets paid the same each month whether he works or not. Some days I keep him plenty busy, but the shop’s slower than a whore-house on Sunday right now. He’s probably swillin’ coffee and playin’ solitaire on my dime. The way I see it, he’ll be happier with somethin’ to do, I’ll be happier knowin’ that your car’s safe for you to drive, and you’ll be happier, too.”

  “I will?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your car won’t be throwin’ oil, and you’ll be able to put off buyin’ tires for a few more months.”

  “I feel funny about taking a free set of tires.”

  “Why? They’ll just sit out there and rot over time. Somebody may as well be gettin’ some use out of ’em.”

  Rainie couldn’t argue the point. She fished her keys from her purse and handed them over. He smiled and held her gaze for a moment. “Thank you.”

  The way Rainie saw it, she was the one who should be grateful. “For what?”

  He winked at her. “For workin’ up the courage to trust me just a little. You looked more than a little alarmed when I asked for your keys.”

  Rainie could think of no response to that. In truth, she had been alarmed.

  “Mac will have your car ready to roll before your shif
t ends.” He tossed the keys into the air and caught them with a swing of his hand. “He’s good. He’ll have that Mazda purrin’ like a kitten.”

  “Can I at least pay for the oil and any parts he has to buy?”

  “Sure. We’ll work somethin’ out.”

  As he walked away, Rainie made a mental note to find out how much the car repairs cost and deduct the total from her first paycheck. She refused to become any more indebted to Parker Harrigan than she already was.

  Chapter Five

  Twenty minutes later, Rainie was at Parker’s desk, sorting through mounds of paperwork that had obviously been there for weeks, or possibly even months, judging by the layer of dust on some of the pages. She began the daunting task of bringing order to chaos by creating small piles, attempting to put the documents in alphabetical categories. But she soon had so many stacks that she ran out of space and couldn’t remember which pile was for which letter. She needed a better system.

  After thinking about it, she pulled all the file cabinets over to stand in a semicircle around his workstation. When she opened the top drawer of the first cabinet, she nearly groaned. He’d dumped even more loose papers inside it—hundreds of them. How on earth did the man do business like this? The next drawer down was in just as big a mess. How long had he been throwing receipts and purchase orders into these cabinets? For years, she guessed.

  And he expected her to sort through all of it.

  Rainie reminded herself that he was paying her handsomely for her trouble. What she needed was a box. Strike that. She needed at least three. Then she could empty the file cabinets and start over. In the bottom pullout of one cabinet she found unopened containers of hanging files and folders, which nearly made her laugh. Parker had had good intentions at some point.