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Sawyer leaned in. “I’ll finish up here and maybe we can get out to the safe house before nightfall.”
Even though he probably hadn’t meant that to sound intimate, it did. This heat between them wasn’t cooling down much.
He tore his gaze from Cassidy’s and looked down at the baby. “You won’t have to tend to her—”
“I want to,” Cassidy interrupted.
“Just don’t get too attached,” he added. “If she’s not mine, we’ll need to find her parents.”
“Too late. I’m already attached.”
He mumbled, “Yeah,” and brushed a kiss on the baby’s cheek.
Then Cassidy’s.
He leaned in and this time brushed a kiss on her mouth. There it was again. The trickle of heat that went from her lips to her toes.
Sawyer
Delores Fossen
Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why USA TODAY bestselling author and former air force captain DELORES FOSSEN feels as if she were genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force top gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.
MILLS & BOON
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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
Extract
Chapter One
Agent Sawyer Ryland caught the movement from the corner of his eye, turned and saw the blonde pushing her way through the other guests who’d gathered for the wedding reception.
She wasn’t hard to spot.
She was practically running, and she had a bundle gripped in front of her like a shield.
Oh, mercy.
Sawyer’s pulse kicked up a notch, and he automatically slid his hand inside his jacket and over his Glock. It was sad that his first response was to pull his firearm even at his own brother’s wedding reception. Still, he’d been an FBI agent long enough—and had been shot too many times—that he lived by the code of better safe than sorry.
Or better safe than dead.
The woman didn’t draw only Sawyer’s attention. Nope. His brother, Josh, and their six Ryland cousins were all Silver Creek lawmen, and while Sawyer had his attention pinned on the woman, he was well aware that some of his cousins were reaching for their guns, too.
She stopped in the center of the barn, which had been decorated with hundreds of clear twinkling lights and flowers, and even though she was wearing dark sunglasses, Sawyer was pretty sure that her gaze rifled around. Obviously looking for someone. However, the looking around skidded to a halt when her attention landed on him.
“Sawyer,” she said.
Because of the chattering guests and the fiddler sawing out some bluegrass, Sawyer didn’t actually hear her speak his name. Instead, he saw it shape her trembling mouth. She yanked off the sunglasses, her gaze connecting with his.
And he cursed. Some really bad words.
For Pete’s sake. He didn’t need this today. Nor any other day for that matter.
“Cassidy O’Neal,” he mumbled, and he made it sound like the profanity that he’d just spouted.
Yeah, it was her, all right. Except she didn’t much look like a pampered princess doll today in her jeans and body-swallowing gray T-shirt. No makeup, either. Maybe he’d missed the memo about Hades freezing over, because Cassidy was not the sort to go without makeup, fine clothes or anything else fine, for that matter.
Despite the fact that he wasn’t giving off any welcoming vibes whatsoever, Cassidy hurried to him. Her mouth was still trembling. Her dark green eyes rapidly blinking. There were beads of sweat on her forehead and upper lip despite the half dozen or so massive fans circulating air into the barn.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and she thrust whatever she was carrying at him.
Sawyer didn’t take it and backed up, but not before he caught a glimpse of the tiny hand gripping the white blanket.
A baby.
That put his heart right in his suddenly dry throat.
He’d always been darn good at math. Not now though. Not with the air just sucked right out of his lungs. But he didn’t need to do the math to know that while there was no love lost between Cassidy and him, there had been love.
Or rather, sex.
It wasn’t love by any stretch of the imagination.
Using just his index finger, Sawyer eased back the blanket and saw the curly mop of brown hair on the sleeping baby’s head. A lighter color than his own hair but maybe a mix of Cassidy’s and his. A cherub face that resembled every baby he’d ever seen.
Including his own cousins’ babies.
And there were plenty of them around for him to do a split-second comparison.
“No.” Cassidy shook her head so hard that her ponytail came unhooked and her hair dropped against her shoulders. “The baby’s not mine.”
Not mine.
Which meant it wasn’t his, either.
That gave him a much-needed jolt of breath to stop his head from going light. A light head was hardly the right bargaining tool for a lawman, and even though Sawyer had no idea if what was going on would require any of his lawman skills, he figured he’d at least need to be able to think straight for this.
Sawyer wasn’t the only one with breathing issues. Cassidy’s was gusting now, and she pushed the bundled baby toward him again. “You have to take her.”
Again, Sawyer backed up.
“Is there a problem?” someone growled.
It was his cousin Mason, a deputy sheriff of Silver Creek and possibly the most unfriendly looking person on earth.
And he walked up right behind Sawyer.
When Mason and he were kids, people used to say they looked like twins, and their combined badass presence, glares and scowls should have been enough to deter a wedding-crashing heiress from staying put.
It didn’t.
“I don’t have much time,” Cassidy insisted. “You have to take her, and I have to get a picture of you holding her.”
Mason and Sawyer exchanged a glance. They were on the same page in thinking their visitor was a couple of cans short of a six-pack.
“We have to talk,” Cassidy continued, and she freed her other hand from the baby bundle so she could catch onto Sawyer’s arm. “Please,” she added.
Sawyer had known Cassidy on and off for over a year now. Mostly off. But he’d never heard her say please. And he’d never seen that look of pure fear in her eyes. He pushed her hand off his arm and instead caught onto her wrist.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Mason. “Obviously our visitor and I need to have a word.”
“You know what you’re doing?” Mason asked.
Nope. But Sawyer figured he was about to find out something he didn’t want to know. Actually, anything that Cassidy had to say to him would fall into that didn’t want to know category even if she hadn’t been carrying a baby in her arms.
Sawyer led her back through the crowd, weaving in and out of the kids running around and the couples dancing. Nearly every one of his cousins shot him a glance to make sure he was okay, and Sawyer tried not to respond with anything that would cause the party to end. His brother Josh, and his bride, Jaycee, didn’t deserve to have their happy day spoiled.
There was a storm brewing, and it was just starting to drizzle, so Sawyer didn’t pull Cassidy out into the open. Instead, he took her to a long watering trough that had a tin awning overhead.
“Let’s start with some questions,” he told Cassidy. “I ask them and you answer them,” he snapped when she opened her mouth to interrupt him.
Of course she just continued with that interruption. “We don’t have time for a Q and A.”
“Obviously, you missed the part about me asking the questions. Make time.”
It hit Sawyer then. Even though Cassidy had said the baby wasn’t hers, that didn’t mean he’d leaped to the right conclusion about the little one not being his. He hadn’t been seriously involved with anyone in several years, but there had been some short hookups. Like the attorney in San Antonio and the woman he’d met at a party.
Was the timing right for either of them?
He just didn’t know.
He looked in the blanket again. At that little cherub face. At the hair. “Is she mine?”
No more gusting breath for Cassidy. It just streamed from her mouth, and she shook her head again. “I have no idea.”
Well, that didn’t help.
Sawyer wasn’t exactly proud of the fact that he didn’t know if he’d fathered a child.
Time for some direct questions. “Who is she, and where’d you get her?” Sawyer demanded.
“I honestly don’t have time for this.” She looked over her shoulder at the beat-up blue truck just a few yards away. There were more dents and dings on it than smooth surface, and the roof was blistered with rust. The engine was running. The wipers, still going. It was hardly her usual ride, but then nothing about this little visit could be labeled as usual for Cassidy.
Sawyer cupped her chin, lifted it, forcing eye contact. “Where. Did. You. Get. The. Baby?” Best to slow down his words and see if that helped.
“From two men. They were both wearing cartoon masks and they were armed.”
Now, that was an answer he sure as heck hadn’t expected. He drew his gun and positioned himself in front of Cassidy. Even if she was lying—and he couldn’t figure out why she’d do that—he had to treat this like a crime in progress.
“Did the men bring you here to the ranch?” he asked.
“No. I drove in the truck they told me to use.” She huffed, glanced at the phone she had clutched in her left hand. “They gave me the baby, said to bring her to you and take a picture of you holding her. I’m supposed to leave the baby with you and then get back so I can give them the picture.”
Say what? That still didn’t make a lick of sense.
“Where are these men?” Sawyer went on full alert, his gaze firing all around the grounds. And it was a lot of ground to cover. What didn’t help was there were guests coming and going, and there were vehicles parked everywhere.
“I don’t know.” Cassidy’s eyes were wild, a different kind of storm brewing there, and every muscle in her body was rock hard.
Sawyer got right in her face. “The sooner you answer me, the sooner I can help. Where are these men, and where are you supposed to meet them?”
“I don’t know,” she repeated. “They said they’d call me in thirty minutes and tell me where to drop off the photo. It’s already past the time.” Her voice broke, and a hoarse sob tore from her throat.
Okay. He could add sheer terror to her panic. That wasn’t helping his own reactions, and while Sawyer wanted to know if this child was his, he needed to figure out if any danger was imminent.
“So, you don’t know who the men are?” Not sure he believed that, but he pressed for details. He figured the devil was in those. “How’d you meet them?”
“I didn’t meet them. They kidnapped me two days ago and have been holding me blindfolded.”
All right. So, there had been a crime, and he believed her—about that anyway. It was hard to fake that kind of body language, the broken breath and the sob.
But he immediately rethought that.
This was Cassidy, and she’d lied to him before. In fact, it was the reason their very brief affair had ended. And it was that reminder that caused his stomach to start churning.
“Does this have anything to do with your brother?” he asked. Except Sawyer didn’t just ask. He demanded it.
She swallowed hard. Nodded. “Yes.” It was one of the first direct answers she’d given him since her arrival, and it wasn’t a good time for it.
“Bennie’s behind this,” Sawyer grumbled, and he would have cursed some more, but he didn’t want to do that in front of the baby.
Bennie, her low-life, scheming younger brother. There were about a hundred more labels he could have slapped on the idiot, but the bottom line was that Bennie was really bad news. Always one step ahead of the law and the crooks that he dealt with. And big sis, Cassidy, was always there to bail him out.
But if the baby was Sawyer’s, then why the heck was Bennie involved?
He didn’t have an answer to that, either. Yet.
Cassidy’s phone rang, the sound shooting through his thoughts. He didn’t have to tell her to answer it. Bobbling the baby in her arms, Cassidy fumbled to press the answer button. Sawyer hadn’t really planned on it, but he took the child so Cassidy wouldn’t drop her, and he waited. The first thing he saw was the blocked caller ID on the screen.
Not a good sign.
Even though his entire focus should have been on the call, he glanced down at the baby again. Soon, very soon, he’d have to know the truth about her paternity. For now, he pressed the speaker button on Cassidy’s phone so he could hear what the caller was saying.
“You got the picture?” the man on the phone growled.
“I’m getting it,” Cassidy assured him. “What about my brother? Where is he? How is he?”
“You’ll get to see him as soon as you bring us back that picture.”
Sawyer huffed. “Genius, she wants proof that her brother’s still alive,” he spelled out to the person on the other end of the line. He didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of his voice, either. “Now, here’s the part where you provide that proof, or this conversation ends.”
Silence. For a long time.
Grabbing on to his jacket sleeve, Cassidy frantically shook her head. Probably because she wanted him to stay quiet.
Sawyer ignored that.
In the next couple of minutes, he was going to have to ignore a lot of head-shaking and just about anything that she was saying. Because there was no way he was going to let her leave to face these kidnappers alone—no matter how much proof of life they provided.
There was some mumbling and cussing on the other end of the line. “Here he is,” the man snapped, and the phone dinged, indicating there was a message.
Cassidy hit the button, and a moment later the video loaded. There was Bennie, all right. His hands were tied with a rope to what appeared to be wooden beams on a ceiling. He was stretched out like a moth in a science experiment.
“Oh, God.” Cassidy pressed her fingers to her mouth, but she didn’t manage to silence the gasp. “You’ve hurt him.”
Sawyer had to agree with her on that point. His face was bloody and bruised, as if he’d taken a good beating. His hair was matted, maybe with more blood, and even though he was moving and mumbling, he looked like a man on the verge of losing consciousness.
Or dying.
“Why are they doing this to you?” Sawyer asked Bennie.
But just like that, the video ended. “That’s all the proof you’ll get. Now, it’s your turn. Get that photo here,” the caller demanded. “You got thirty minutes, or we finish him off.”
“Why?” Sawyer repeated. He needed to keep them talking. Needed to find out their location and anything else he could learn about them. He spotted his cousin, Sheriff Grayson Ryland, in the doorway of the barn, and Sawyer motioned for him to come over.
But Grayson had barely made it a step when there was a flash of light. Since his body was on full alert, it took Sawyer a second to realize that it had come from the camera.
Cassidy had snapped his picture.
With the baby.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, and Cassidy took off running.
Chapter Two
Cassidy didn’t look back, but she could hear Sawyer cursing at her and shouting for her to stop. A moment later, she heard more than just his voice.
She heard footsteps. Someone running. And she had no doubt that it was Sawyer coming after her.
Her heart was past the racing stage now. Breath, too. And her hands were shaking so hard that she was surprised and relieved when she managed to open the truck door. She jumped in and immediately threw the gear into Reverse. She had to get out of there now and get the photo back to those men.
The images of her brother’s battered face flew through her head. Images of the shock on Sawyer’s face, too, when she’d handed him the baby. Later, if there was a later, she’d need to deal with him.
Except later came a lot sooner than she’d planned.
She felt the thud and looked into the rearview mirror to see that Sawyer had jumped into the truck bed.
Mercy.
She didn’t need this.
He no longer had the baby. He’d obviously handed the newborn off to the other man who’d been approaching them when Cassidy had snapped the picture. And now that Sawyer’s hands were free, he was making his way from the back of the truck bed and toward her. If looks could kill, that glare he shot her would have hurtled her to the hereafter.
Still, Cassidy didn’t stop. In fact, she slammed her foot on the accelerator and threaded the truck through the sea of other vehicles. Not the best time to attempt something like this with all the partygoers around, but she hadn’t exactly had a choice.
She didn’t want to hurt Sawyer, but she couldn’t have him go to the kidnappers with her, either. Earlier, they’d warned her if she didn’t return alone, her brother would die. That couldn’t happen. She couldn’t lose Bennie.
The moment that she was in a small clearing, Cassidy jerked the steering wheel to the right to try to toss Sawyer off the back. It didn’t work. He held on, and it only made his glare a whole lot worse. Still, she tried again.
Again, no luck.
Sawyer held on, bouncing around on the metal surface of the truck bed. He managed to hang on to his gun, and she was afraid he might use it on her if he got the chance. He already hated her, and this certainly wasn’t going to make things better between them.
Cassidy sped across the driveway that coiled around the sprawling main house and the barns, and she finally reached the ranch road that would take her to the highway. She’d lied when she told Sawyer she didn’t know where the kidnappers were.
A necessary lie.
If he had learned their location, he’d just go in there with guns blazing, and Bennie would be caught in the middle of a firefight. Of course, that might still happen if she couldn’t ditch Sawyer before she made it to the abandoned building where they were holding her brother.
Cassidy tried again to toss him from the truck, but she failed that time, too. Sawyer not only held on, he made his way toward her. Inch by inch.
There was a small slider window that separated them. Not nearly big enough for him to crawl through, and it had a lock that would prevent anyone on the outside from opening it. Thank goodness. Still, that didn’t solve her problem of getting rid of him.
She was already going too fast, and as if fate and Mother Nature were working against her, the drizzle turned to a hard rain, making the road even more slick than it already was. Cassidy tried to focus on her driving. On ditching Sawyer. And getting this photo to the kidnappers.
But Sawyer obviously had other ideas about the ditching part.
He lifted his gun, took aim. Not at her. He aimed the barrel of his gun at the passenger’s window.
“No!” Cassidy shouted.
Too late.
He turned his head and fired, the shot blasting through not just both windows—the side and back—but the sound seemed to rip through her, too. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she hit the brakes. Not the best idea she’d ever had, but it was hard to make a good decision with the pain from the noise crashing through her ears and head.
The truck tires fishtailed on the wet asphalt, slinging Sawyer and her around. Even though she was wearing her seat belt, her shoulder slammed so hard into her door that she swore she saw stars. She certainly lost her breath.
Unlike Sawyer.
The truck hadn’t even come to a full stop yet when he reached through the gaping hole in the safety glass on the passenger’s side and unlocked the door. Opened it. As if it were a routine maneuver for him, he slid from the truck bed and into the cab.
He put his gun to her head.
“You will tell me what’s going on now,” he growled. His glare was even worse, and the tendons in his neck corded.
“I’ve already told you all I know.” She tried to sound tough as nails, like him. And she failed miserably. She wasn’t tough. She was terrified, exhausted and just wanted this ordeal to end. “Now, get out.”
“Not gonna happen.”
There it was. That smart mouth that she used to think was funny and a complement to his bad-boy persona. It had been the very thing that had lured her to him. But his mouth and his tenacity weren’t much of a lure now. Nothing was.
Well, except for that brief slap of attraction she’d felt when she first saw him in the barn.
That slap might have to be a real one that she delivered to herself, because an attraction to Sawyer should be the last thing on her mind.
“They’ll kill Bennie if you’re with me,” she reminded him. Somehow, she got the truck moving again because like everything else, time wasn’t working in her favor.
He shook his head, cursed her again and slung the water off his face. It didn’t help. The rain coming in from the window just walloped him once more, soaking his jacket, white shirt and jeans. His hair, too. The drops of water slid off those dark brown strands and dripped onto his face.
“Who says they won’t just kill you when you give them the photo?” he asked. “You should have taken this to the cops and not tried to handle it yourself.”
“I didn’t go to the cops because they said they’d kill Bennie.”
“Kidnappers always say that,” he snapped. “And they always tell the mark to cooperate and that you’ll get your loved one back in one piece. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. But they could just as easily put a bullet in you as Bennie.”
Obviously, he thought she was stupid.
“They won’t do that because I haven’t given them all the ransom money yet, that’s why. The other half won’t be transferred to their account until Bennie and I are away from the pick-up site. And I’m the only one with the bank account information. If they kill me, they don’t get the other half million.”
He mumbled something she didn’t catch. “You’re paying a million dollarsʼ ransom for your brother?”
“You’d do the same for your brother.”
“Yeah. Because he’s a good guy and not some low-life weasel. What’d Bennie do this time to get himself in this mess?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked, and she could feel what little composure she had cracking, too. “At this point, it doesn’t matter. Bennie’s the only family I have, and I’ll give them every penny I own to get him back.”
And while a million wasn’t every penny she owned, it was close. It would wipe her out financially, but there was no way she could live with herself if she hadn’t agreed to the kidnappersʼ every demand.
Including that photo.
“Is the baby yours?” she asked. Cassidy took the turn too fast toward the town of Silver Creek, and the tires squealed on the road.
“I don’t know,” Sawyer said after several long moments. He slung off more water, swiveled in the seat and looked around.
“You don’t know if you had sex with a woman about ten months ago?” Cassidy pressed.
Yes, she sounded irked about that. And was. She’d always been attracted to the bad-boy types, but it never felt good to know that she was in a mountain-high pile of women that Sawyer had discarded.
Even if she’d contributed a lot to the reason he’d discarded her.
“There’s someone,” he admitted. “I’ll call her as soon as I’m finished with this. But I’m pretty sure if she’d gotten pregnant, she would have told me.” And he took out his phone. “I’m calling my cousin, the sheriff.”
“No!” Even though she had to take one of her hands off the steering wheel, Cassidy did it so she could grab his phone. “No cops. No anyone but me.”
He leaned in, a major violation of her personal space. So close she could smell wedding cake on his breath. “I’m going to the drop site with you. Close your mouth,” he added when she opened it. “Because arguing won’t help. You’re taking me to those kidnappers so I can find out why they want the photo. And why they took Bennie.”
Sawyer fired off a text message. Probably requesting backup that could make this mess a thousand times worse.
“I could stop the truck and refuse to go there,” she lied.
And the flat look Sawyer gave her with those blistering blue eyes let her know that he, too, knew she was lying.
“Where’s this place?” He sounded like the tough FBI agent that he was.
“Just off Miller’s Road.” She checked the time on the dash clock. “And I have less than ten minutes to get there.”
“Where on Miller’s Road?” Sawyer didn’t address that time was ticking away, either.
“It’s an abandoned building.” Now she was the one to get in his face. For a brief glare, anyway. “Don’t you dare make me regret telling you.”
“Abandoned,” he repeated. “The Tumbleweed? It used to be a bar.”
She nodded. The sign had been rusted and battered, but the name was still partially visible. “You know the place?”
“Yeah.” And that one word held a lot of emotion. Or something. “I was raised in Silver Creek. The Tumbleweed used to belong to my grandfather.”
Oh, mercy. Cassidy doubted that was a coincidence. “So, what does Bennie’s kidnapping have to do with you?”
Sawyer lifted his shoulder. “Like I said, that’s what I intend to find out. Take that next left.”
“That’s not Miller’s Road.”
“I know. And that’s why we’re taking it. Turn!” he growled.
It was the second time in the past few moments that she’d hoped she didn’t regret this, but Cassidy took the turn. It wasn’t a road but an old ranch trail with thick underbrush on both sides. Not exactly a good driving surface with the rain, and the first pothole she hit made the truck bounce, and their heads struck the ceiling.
“Slow down and stop up there,” Sawyer instructed, and he pointed to a pile of limestone boulders.
Again, she did as he said, but the moment she stopped, Cassidy took hold of his jacket and forced eye contact. “I know you think Bennie doesn’t deserve to live, but swear to me that you won’t do anything to make this worse.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m an FBI agent, sworn to uphold the law. That includes upholding it for people who don’t deserve it. Like your brother. Now, kill the engine and wait here.”
As if she would take that order as gospel, which she did, Sawyer stepped from the truck, his gun ready, and he climbed to the top of the boulders.
Cassidy couldn’t be sure, but she thought that Miller’s Road might be just on the other side. She’d been so frantic when she’d driven out of there earlier with the baby, that the only thing she had paid attention to was the GPS that the kidnappers had programmed with the directions to the Ryland family’s Silver Creek ranch.
What the two men hadn’t told her was there would be a wedding reception going on and that she’d have to get that photo with dozens of witnesses milling around. But certainly the kidnappers must have known because they’d told her that’s where she would find Sawyer.
So, why take the photo there?
Too many things about this didn’t make sense, and that was yet more reason to get Bennie away from these men.
“I have less than five minutes now,” she reminded him in a whisper.
Sawyer didn’t respond to that, fired off another text, and then without warning, he scrambled over the rocks, out of sight. That got Cassidy moving from the truck, and she hurried to the boulders to see where he’d gone.
She didn’t have to look far.
He was there, just on the other side, crouched down by yet another heap of boulders. Beyond that was the road.
Then, the Tumbleweed bar about fifty yards away.
It wasn’t much of a place. Rust-streaked tin roof. Weathered clapboards. Eye-socket windows with vines coiling in and out of them. What was left of the neon sign was connected by a single electrical wire, and it creaked back and forth with each gust of wind.
Sawyer gave her a stare down even though he was looking up at her. “Think hard. Do you remember me telling you to wait in the truck?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Because that’s exactly what you’re going to do. My cousin Grayson will be here soon to watch you.”
She huffed. “I don’t want a babysitter. I want to help.”
“And you’ll do that by waiting here.” He tipped his head to the building. “No vehicles. Were there any when you left?”
“No. They brought me here in the truck. They already had Bennie tied up inside.”
It hurt just to think of seeing him that way. To see the terror on his face. To know that he’d seen the same on hers. She was the big sister. Had always taken care of him just as she’d promised.
This time, she’d failed.
Sawyer started to move but then stopped and caught her gaze. “If you follow me, it could get all of us killed. Nod so I know you understand.”
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