Chapter 1
1
One year later…
C innamon Cider Whiskey set her suitcase and duffel bag on the front porch and pounded on the door. She glanced over her shoulder; fear still had a death grip on her emotions. It didn’t matter that Pete had been arrested. He wouldn’t stay there forever. He would hire a good lawyer and he’d be out by morning. The worst part was he’d know exactly where to come looking, which is why she wasn’t knocking on any of her cousins’ doors.
Nope.
She had to pick her ex-boyfriend.
But she didn’t know where else to turn and if anyone on this planet would understand, it was Austin.
She glanced at her watch.
One in the morning.
Shit. He was sure to be in bed. She knocked again. Louder this time.
“Who the hell is out there?” Austin called from inside. His voice was raspy and laced with frustration.
“It’s Cinnamon. Open the door, please.”
The wood barrier opened.
“What the hell?” Austin stood there in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and nothing else. His dark hair was ruffled from sleep. It was longer than she remembered, touching the back of his neck. “What on earth are you doing here and why are you wearing sunglasses?”
“I’m sure I don’t have to explain that one.” She pointed to her bags. “Can I crash on your sofa tonight?” The memories of the past bombarded her brain.
Their first kiss. Their first official date. Prom. Visiting him in college. Making love for the first time. The fights. His moods after his father died.
And then fucking Pete.
A guttural sob stuck in her throat.
Austin reached out and gently removed her glasses.
The shame and horror of her life filled her heart. She turned away.
He let out a long breath. “Jesus,” he muttered, taking her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
Tears burned the torn skin on her cheeks. The excuses for what happened rushed through her mind. Pete hadn’t always been an abuser. He’d been a sweet man when they first got together. However, that had all been a manipulation. Part of his master plan to take her and keep her to himself. He might not have hit her for the first four years of their marriage, but he controlled her in other ways. And he’d never loved her. Not the way a husband should. He married her because she’d been pregnant with the one thing he wanted more than anything.
A child.
Someone to carry on the family name. A little person he could mold and shape into an exact replica of himself.
But when Rosy died, Pete changed. He blamed Cinnamon and when she couldn’t get pregnant again, he started beating her. It wasn’t all the time, but as the years passed, it worsened. Cinnamon had enough. Pete couldn’t ever get past the loss of their little girl and he wanted a son in the worst way. He’d never go to counseling and his fists continued to land on Cinnamon’s face.
It was time to put an end to the insanity.
“Come in.” Austin stepped aside and then snagged her bags. “Where’s Pete?” he asked with a tight tone.
“In jail, for now.”
“That’s a good place for him.” Austin set her luggage by the front bedroom.
She knew this cabin well. A family friend had once occupied it. It had two bedrooms, a family room, and a kitchen. It was located at the north end of the ranch near the bull riding school. Those living in it usually taught lessons or worked at the breeding stables.
Austin had gone to school to study Equine Science. He wanted to be involved in the care and treatment of horses and ranch management. He’d grown up on Whiskey Ranch and intended to return and work there—with her. But that dream was destroyed the day she got pregnant.
She could never say Rosy had been a mistake. She loved her daughter and cherished every second she had with Rosy. For three years she and Pete had made a decent life. But it hadn’t lasted. She missed the ranch. Her family.
And Austin.
“I don’t need an I told you so .”
“I’m not saying that.” He planted his hands on his hips. “But those black eyes, the fat lip, and your limp make it hard not to be glad that man is behind bars.”
“We both know he’ll be out soon enough and he’s going to come looking for me. The first place will be at JW’s. Or maybe Georgia Moon and Luke’s. I just need a night or two to figure out my next move, and then I’ll be gone.”
“Do any of your cousins know you left?”
“I’ll call them in the morning.”
“Do you need ice? That swelling is pretty bad.”
“It’s fine. The cops made me go to the hospital.” She stepped around him, making her way into the family room. The furniture had changed since the last time she’d been in this particular cabin. Tired from the evening’s horrid events, she plopped herself on the sofa. She groaned, grabbing her midsection.
Austin rushed to her side. Gently, he brushed her hand away and lifted her shirt.
“That motherfucker,” he mumbled.
Tears filled her eyes.
“Did he stab you? I counted eighteen stitches.” Austin adjusted her shirt. He lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger and examined her face. “You’re limping something awful. Do you have more stitches in your leg?”
“I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“You don’t get to show up at my house in the middle of the night, tell me that your husband is in jail for beating you, and not expect me to ask questions, especially when you know my history with domestic violence.”
“I thought you of all people would understand and not grill me.”
“For fuck’s sake, Cinnamon. That’s not what I’m doing. I want to know what happened. What’s been happening. Ever since you called me over a year ago, I’ve been worried sick about you. I know your cousins have all been trying to get you to leave that asshole for years.” He pressed his finger gently over her bruised lip. “I do get that it’s not easy. I understand the hold an abuser has over their victims. This is not your fault. But now that you’ve taken the first step, you have to do the hard part and stick with it.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I need to do. You left me years ago.” She closed her eyes. She’d told herself on the ride over she wouldn’t get into this conversation with Austin. It wasn’t the right time or place. What happened between them was long ago and she had no right to still be angry. It was childish and stupid.
This wasn’t his fault either.
But sometimes it was easier to blame him because deep down she still loved him.
“I know you’re hurting and if you want to take it out on me, go ahead,” he said.
She blinked. “No. I’m sorry. It’s just, you have no idea what my life has been like since my daughter died.”
Austin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. He pressed his lips against her forehead.
It felt like home.
“I’m so sorry about Rosy. I felt like the worst human when I found out. I was such an ass for not staying in touch with anyone at the ranch. If I had known about her passing, I would have reached out. I was a jerk and caught up in my own hurt feelings.”
She rested her head against his strong shoulder. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe. It was as if the past fifteen years melted away, except for the pain of losing her precious baby. That could never be erased. “I never meant to hurt you. I was young and scared. You changed after your dad died and I reacted badly.”
“I was a fool not to fight for you.” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “We can’t do anything about the past. What’s done is done. But you can’t go back to Pete.”
“I know. He’s out of control. He won’t go to counseling and things have gotten really bad. I’m done trying to make things right. He can’t see beyond his own misery and he takes it out on me. I won’t be his punching bag anymore. I filed for divorce, which provoked this beating in the first place.”
“Why didn’t you have an exit plan? You were there when I helped Tina do that.”
She glanced up. “You know how shameful this is and I’m tired of hearing how I need to leave him. I know my family means well, but everyone has an opinion and I don’t want to be a burden.”
He brushed his lips across her temple. “Your cousins only wish to help. However, you’ve pushed them away. JD told me a couple of weeks ago that you barely take their phone calls and you didn’t come back to the ranch for the holidays.”
There were so many reasons she’d avoided her family. However, the moment Pete learned Austin was back at the ranch, there was no way she’d ever be allowed to return again. Besides, knowing he lived on Whiskey Ranch changed everything. It stirred her emotions in ways she couldn’t deal with, at least not while she was still married to Pete.
Nor while Austin was engaged to another woman.
And there was the fact that Charity was still missing and the rumors that haunted Austin’s good name.
“You know why I did all those things.” She pushed from his embrace. She didn’t want to get too comfortable. Her life was too complicated to allow any past emotions to clutter her difficult situation. “For years, you never brought friends home because of what went on in your house.”
“That’s different. I was a kid.”
She arched a brow. “Do you still do volunteer work with battered women?”
He nodded.
“Then you know it’s never easy for someone to leave and not just because of the emotional hold the abuser has over their victims.” She stood, lifting her shirt, twisting her body, showing off the other stab wound. “I have one more on my leg with twelve stitches and this isn’t the first time he’s stabbed me. He’s also bought a gun. I’m terrified he’ll come here and hurt my cousins or their children. Or you. He hates you.”
“The feeling is more than mutual.” Austin folded his arms across his chest and scowled. “The security on the ranch is excellent and I’ll call my brother-in-law in the morning. We’ll make sure everyone, including you, is well protected.”
“That’s not my point and you know it.”
He stood, gripping her biceps. “We may not have seen each other in fifteen years, but I think you know me well enough to know I’m not going to stand here and let that man hurt you again.”
“It’s that tone that makes me wonder if I made the right decision to come to you.”
He chuckled.
“I’m serious. You have a wicked temper sometimes.”
“I have only ever hit three men, and they all deserved it.” He lowered his chin. “Including Pete because he swung first.”
“You were acting like a jealous idiot.”
Austin took a step back. “He knocked up my girlfriend. What did you expect me to do?”
“Oh my God. First, it takes two people to make a baby. Second, I wasn’t your girlfriend at the time.”
“Well, I came home to make things right between us and he tells me you’re pregnant and then pulls out a ring and proposes right in front of me like you’re some damned trophy or something.” Austin raked a hand over the top of his head. “I get I was being pigheaded and acting like a jerk, but he was a total dick and sucker punched me. All I did was call him a fucking douchebag with no class.”
“You told him he was going to be a shit father and offered to raise the baby as your own.”
“And I would have if you’d let me.” His chest heaved in as he sucked in a deep breath. “Fuck. I don’t want to fight with you about this. It’s all in the past and you’ve got enough to deal with.”
“You’re right, so I don’t need you throwing a punch.”
“I won’t promise you anything about that,” he muttered. “Any man who puts a hand on a lady is scum in my book.” He marched toward the front bedroom. “There are clean sheets on the bed. I’ll put your things in the room. I’m in the room behind the kitchen. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to wake me. I’ll be up by dawn. I’m sure I can rearrange my work schedule.”
“I don’t want you to do that for me.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re here now, so let me help.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her forehead. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” He closed the door behind him, leaving her in the bedroom alone.
The tears came hot and fast.
She’d made a mess of her life and she was only thirty-four years old. Rummaging through her suitcase, she found her pajamas and carefully slipped them on. Her entire body was covered in bruises. She ached from head to toe. The stab wounds hadn’t done any real damage, thank God. She’d been lucky Pete had been so drunk he could barely stand. That had been the only reason she’d been able to get away. She’d locked herself in the bathroom and called the police.
But Pete had managed to bust down the door. That’s when he attacked her with the knife. The cops arrived just as he stabbed her in the thigh, finally giving her the witnesses she needed to press charges. Pete wouldn’t be able to get away with it this time. He’d face real prison time and she would be strong and hold him accountable for his actions. She was done playing the victim.
After brushing her teeth, she found her cell charger. The nurse at the hospital had reminded her to turn off her location, but suggested she get a new cell. She’d do that tomorrow. For now, she felt secure that Pete couldn’t track the device. As soon as she lifted it from her purse, she noticed ten missed calls and twenty texts.
All from Pete.
Her heart dropped like a cement brick.
He was out already.