Chapter 9
Colt pushed his hand through his hair, his mind filled with thoughts of Marlee. He made his way to his man cave to get his phone, and it started ringing just as he picked it up.
He answered it without looking at the screen. “This is Colt.”
“What are you doing, back with her?” A woman’s voice was filled with venom as she shouted. “That bitch.”
The anger in her voice and the words she said caught him off guard. He responded in a low growl. “Whoever this is, don’t call me again.”
The voice turned pleading. “This is Sally. How could you not recognize me?”
He blew out his breath. “Sally, I’m in a relationship with Marlee, and I’m not going to put up with you referring to her as a bitch.”
“Colt, don’t push me away.” Sally was whining now. “After everything we’ve been through together. We belong to each other.”
Colt looked up at the ceiling. This woman was unbelievable. He had to put a stop to this.
“You and I will never have any kind of relationship.” He kept his voice firm and unyielding, and repeated, “Don’t call again.”
“That girlfriend of yours is so nice.” The saccharine-sweetness in Sally’s tone caused hair to rise on his arms. “She might watch her back, but she’ll never see me coming.”
The line went dead.
Colt ground his teeth as the fury inside him burned like white-hot coal in his gut.
Sally had threatened Marlee.
Then his skin grew cold. Would she really be so vindictive as to harm Marlee?
He had to put a stop to this. He hit Sally’s number in his recent calls, but she didn’t answer.
Despite his upbringing, and his belief that women should be treated as ladies, Colt had a long list of choice words for Sally Farmer, none of which should be used in reference to a lady. Sally was clearly no lady. She was vindictive, hateful, and any other number of adjectives.
Colt strode to his home office and slid into the chair behind his desk. He powered up his laptop and logged in before opening a browser window. He entered Sally Farmer’s name and hit the search option.
A list of hits popped up for multiple women with that name, and he scoured the list. Facebook profiles, LinkedIn, Ancestry, Whitepages… Too many entries. He tried to remember her middle name to help narrow it down. Jean? Janet? Jane? No, June. He remembered how much she had hated her middle name and how mad she got every time their middle school English teacher called her Sally June.
He typed in Sally June Farmer and hit the enter key.
His breath caught in his chest when an article in a Phoenix-based news service popped up showing a picture of Sally in a mugshot.
She’d been arrested on suspicion of the murder of a woman in Mesa. The article went on to say an injunction against harassment had been placed against Sally prior to the murder as Sally had been stalking the victim. The murder case against her was dropped due to lack of evidence.
Cold sweat broke out on Colt’s skin as he stared at the mugshot. She had a deranged look in her eyes.
He read on and learned that Sally had been stalking the woman’s boyfriend before she turned to stalking the victim.
Shit. Colt dragged his hand down his face as he tried to process what he’d just read. Marlee’s life was in danger thanks to this insane woman’s obsession with him.
He leaned back in his chair, thoughts whirring through his mind. He should get Marlee as far away from him as possible.
But a restraining order had been placed against Sally and still the woman she had stalked had ended up dead.
Dead.
He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to slow his breathing and calm the racing of his heart.
Marlee was here, with him, and he could protect her as long as she remained close. But what could happen to Marlee once she returned to her home? How could he protect her then?
He shoved his chair back and started pacing the room while he tried to figure out what to do. He was used to being decisive, putting a plan in motion and doing whatever it was that needed to be taken care of.
This was different. This was a matter of life or death of someone he loved.
He’d have to take it a day at a time, keeping Marlee close. He didn’t know if he could get a protective order based on a threat that Sally had said to him.
If he couldn’t get an order and waited until Sally did something else, it could be too late.
His throat worked as he swallowed down a combination of fear for Marlee and dread of what was to come. If he hadn’t found the article, he wouldn’t have been as concerned as he was now. Thank God he had googled Sally. That meant he had an edge that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.
Sally was coming. Now he had to figure out a way to stop her.
Marlee sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, her cast thumping on the tile floor. She held her fingers to her temples. This headache couldn’t go away fast enough.
How did she get in this room? It must be Colt’s guestroom. She wore a man’s T-shirt with her panties and bra on underneath. Clearly, Colt had put her to bed and thoughtfully put her in one of his shirts, and she had amazingly slept through the whole thing. She grasped the fabric and brought it to her nose. It smelled delicious, totally Colt’s scent.
Outside the window, the sun appeared to have risen not long ago. This time of year, that meant it was close to seven in the morning. She sighed and looked around her.
The butter-yellow guestroom with white trim had reddish-brown cherry furniture including the four-poster bed she’d slept in and a rocking chair. She wondered if Colt’s mom or one of his sisters helped pick out the furniture and the décor.
A quilt covered the queen-sized bed. Marlee ran her palm over the colorful patchwork quilt, the craftsmanship worthy of her own mom. Both Colt’s mother and grandmother belonged to the King Creek Quilting Society, so this quilt was probably by one of the two women, who were equally talented ladies.
The room’s pleasant décor included a painting of a meadow filled with wildflowers and another of an old red barn in front of a grassy field, the sun’s rays turning the field a golden hue. A large sunbonnet doll perched on the rocking chair and an old blue and white pitcher and washbasin sat on the chest of drawers. Someone had arranged items on the dresser that must have been heirlooms or purchased at an antique store, including old perfume bottles and a mother-of-pearl backed wooden hairbrush and comb.
Marlee smiled. She could picture this room turned into Colt’s daughter’s room one day. The thought of the beautiful children she and Colt could have together warmed her insides like a summer day.
Her cheeks grew hot. She was getting waaaaay ahead of herself. Who knew if what they had would be strong enough to maintain a long-term relationship? Could they last?
Everything inside her said, Yes.
She blew out her breath and stared at her cast again. Now she just had to get back to walking so that she could be more independent and return to her life as it was before the accident.
She glanced around the room and realized her crutches weren’t in here. How was she going to leave the room, or even get around?
A soft knock at the door grabbed her attention.
“Come in.” Why did she sound breathless?
The knob turned and the door opened, then Colt took a step into the room. “Good morning, beautiful.”
She smiled. “’Morning, Colt.”
He moved all the way into the room and raised her crutches in one of his strong hands. “I forgot to leave these here for you last night. Hope I didn’t strand you for too long.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “I just woke up a few minutes ago. What time is it anyway?”
He pulled his phone out of a holster and looked at the screen before meeting her eyes again. “It’s seven. I just came in from chores and started breakfast.” He gestured to her pink sweatpants draped across the chair. “Would you like help getting those on?”
She held out her hand. “I can do it if you just hand them to me.”
He retrieved her clothing. Even though she had said she could do it herself, she did need his help pulling the sweatpants over her cast.
When she had them on, Colt handed her the crutches.
He watched her as she arranged the crutches so that she could get up. “Need help?”
“I need to learn to do this myself.” She made a face as she attempted to get to her feet. She sat back down hard on the bed. “Darn it.” He respected her determination to do it herself by not trying to help her. She positioned the crutches again and brought herself up to stand.
She blew out her breath, feeling triumphant yet exhausted. “This shouldn’t be so hard.”
“You’re doing great.” He started to back out of the doorway. “I should get to making breakfast. You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be right beside you.” She swung herself forward and managed to reach him just fine. “What are you making?”
“French toast.” He looked down at her as they headed down the hallway. “A recipe my mom always made when we were kids. It’s one of my favorite things to fix for breakfast.”
“Sounds wonderful.” She stepped into the kitchen with him and settled back against the island, leaning her crutches next to her.
He had a short, square glass container filled with a milky egg mixture, and a stack of what looked like homemade bread beside that. He turned on the flame beneath a griddle and grabbed a plate from the cabinet and placed it next to the egg mixture.
“I thought you didn’t cook.” She smiled as she watched him. “You told a fib.”
He laughed. “I didn’t say I couldn’t cook at all. I have a small collection of things that I do well or close enough. This is one of the things that I’m not too bad at.”
“Like I said before, you’re too modest.” She enjoyed watching his deft touch with his strong hands. She hoped to have his hands back on her soon. “Did you make the bread, too?”
He shook his head. “My cook baked it in the grub building. He makes real good homemade bread.”
They chatted while he cooked the French toast to a golden brown on each side. When he finished, he set the table in the kitchen nook and put out the toast and glasses of milk. He pulled out a chair and took her crutches from her as she sat down. She relinquished them happily as she prepared to dig into the French toast.
Being with Colt had been enjoyable from the moment he’d walked back into her life. She’d started out on edge, then wary, then confused, then warming up to him faster than she could have imagined. Next thing she knew, she was falling for him all over again.
She shouldn’t be falling for him so fast.
Marlee realized her hands were shaking as she slathered butter on the three pieces of French toast on her plate, before pouring maple syrup over the stack. Darn it. She wondered how long it would take to get beyond the aftereffects of the accident.
After her first wonderful bite, she pointed her fork at him. “You can no longer tell me that cowboy beans are the only thing in your repertoire.”
He grinned. “Don’t think I’ve ever said the word ‘repertoire.’”
“You know what I mean.” She chewed another bite and swallowed. “I want this for breakfast every day.”
“Uh-huh.” He shook his head. “You’ll be throwing toast in my face within a few days.”
“I’d never do that.” She cut into her breakfast. “But, okay. Every weekend.”
“Deal.” He drank from his glass of milk and set it down. “You do know I’m not letting you go back home.”
Amusement made her want her laugh. “Like you could stop me—once I’m on my feet again.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Face painting should still be doable for you at the event since you won’t have to be on your feet.”
“I forgot about the event.” Marlee’s eyes widened. “You need to pass activities on to me that I can take care of from my chair that need to be done to get ready.”
“I’ll do that.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “Do you have someone watching your home while you’re here?”
“I’m going to call Amy this morning.” Marlee swiped a strand of hair from her face. “She has a key to my house, and I’m sure she won’t mind keeping an eye on things.”
“Good.” Colt had a thoughtful expression. “Will she watch to see if anyone stops by while you’re not home?
She cocked her head to the side. “Like a salesman or poll worker? Do salesmen even go door to door anymore?”
“Someone did throw a rock through your window.” Colt looked serious.
“It was probably kids.” Marlee frowned. “Why would you be so concerned about that? This is King Creek.”
He hesitated. “True, but we are not that far from Phoenix. You can’t be too careful.”
She studied him. “I get the feeling there’s something bothering you.”
“Nothing of the sort.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “I just want to keep you safe.”
His fingers wrapped around hers, his callused touch warm and firm. How she ached to have those work-roughened hands on her.
She swallowed as she tried to pull her mind back to the subject at hand. “I think the accident has you on worry overdrive. Relax and don’t worry, okay? I’ll be fine. I am fine.”
He gave a slow nod, looking like he wanted to say something more but holding it inside.
When he didn’t volunteer anything else, she squeezed his fingers. “If that subject is closed, let me finish my French toast. It’s too good to let just sit here.”
“We’ll table it for now.” He sounded so serious. “What are your plans for today?”
She cut into the toast and stabbed a piece. “I have a slush pile to go through. I have enough manuscripts to keep me busy for the next six weeks. Maybe that magical manuscript I’m looking for will finally drop into my lap.”
After breakfast, Colt helped Marlee get settled in the living room recliner with her laptop and a huge thermal mug filled with iced tea sweetened with sugar, and lemon wedges on top. She reclined just enough to raise her legs and he put a pillow under her cast to raise that leg up more.
“I’ve got to get to work.” He kissed her on top of the head and drew back, a serious expression on his features again. “You have your cell phone, so call if you need me.”
“I will.” She smiled up at him. “Now go on. I need to get to work.”
He set his western hat on his head with a grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her smile remained as he left the room and headed outside. He made her feel so good, inside and out. A more perfect man than Colt didn’t exist for her. She relaxed against the seatback and let herself think about him. She hadn’t admitted it to herself until now, but she had missed him all these years. Back then she’d known he was the only man for her. Fast forward, years later, and she believed it again with all her heart.
She blew out her breath. She was toast when it came to Colt.
Why had he sounded so concerned this morning?” Her brow furrowed as she thought about his concerns. It was like he knew something she didn’t.
She picked her cell phone off the chair arm and located Amy in her contacts. She touched the number and brought the phone to her ear.
“Marlee!” Amy’s voice came over bright and cheery. “I haven’t seen you jogging the past several days.”
“That’s out for a good three months.” Marlee gave a low groan. “I broke my ankle.”
“What?” Amy sounded shocked. “How did you do that?”
Marlee saw a flash of the terror of the truck rolling before she pushed it away. “We’re both fine, but Colt and I were in an accident.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Amy rushed the words. “Nothing worse than a broken ankle?”
“A concussion.” Marlee’s headache hovered in the back of her head. “Colt walked away with cuts and bruises, and he’s sore. Thank goodness it wasn’t worse.”
“I’m glad to hear he’s okay,” Amy said. “Are you home? How are you getting around with all those stairs at your place? I see your car in your driveway.”
“I’m staying with Colt until I’m mobile, or I’ll stay with my mom when she returns.” Marlee went on to explain how she ended up at Colt’s home. “Mom doesn’t have stairs, so I might go to her house when she gets back from Kansas. It’s all up in the air.” She gave a frustrated sigh. “I can’t stand relying so much on others.”
“It’s okay to let others lend a helping hand,” Amy said. “Sometimes we all need help.”
“Part of me knows you’re right.” Marlee held back the desire to groan again. “And part of me wants to scream.”
Ann laughed. “What can I do for you? I can keep an eye on your home.”
“Yes, please.” Tension eased inside Marlee. “I appreciate it more than you know.”
“Never a problem.” A jingling sound came over the line. “And here are your keys, right in the drawer I left them in. I’ll go over there now.”
“Thank you.” Marlee smiled. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that I’d like to do face painting at the small business event. I had planned to call you about it, but the accident, and you know the rest.”
Ann responded with enthusiasm. “That’s perfect. Do you need supplies since you’re laid up?”
“I have some in my bedroom, if you don’t mind getting them for me.” Marlee played with strands of her hair.
“Just tell me what and where they are, and I’ll take care of them.”
After they talked a bit more, they said goodbye. She set her phone aside and opened her laptop. The login screen popped up and she signed on.
First thing, she needed to check email. She was so behind and likely her editor was wondering what had happened to her. Sure enough, three emails from Elizabeth Maxwell waited in Marlee’s inbox. She replied with an explanation and responded to her editor’s questions. She then checked the slush pile inbox and groaned when a list of over a hundred new submissions showed up.
Marlee rested her head against the seatback and stared at the ceiling. “Can’t I catch a break? I could use one right now.”
No response from the ceiling.
She sighed and looked at her screen. An email in her main inbox caught her attention.
Sender: [email protected]
Subject line: To Marlee Fox from an old friend
Marlee clicked on the email. A cold chill prickled her skin as she read the message:
Colt can’t protect you, bitch. You’ll be sorry you got in my way.
I’m going to make you burn.