They’ll shield her newest charge…
no matter what the cost.
When an infant is abandoned on her ranch, foster mother Isabelle Trent will do anything for the child—even put her own life on the line. She might not know who left the little girl, but it’s clear someone’s after her and will kill to reach their target. With Isabelle’s ranch hand, Brian “Mac” McGee, at her side, can she survive long enough to protect the baby?
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Mac bolted from the truck just as the sun crested the
horizon and spread light around the area. He raced around the side of the house
to the back and skidded to a stop. The intruder the owner had mentioned had one
foot inside the window and his gloved hands gripped the molding. Mac darted
forward, placed his hands on the porch railing and vaulted over it. He landed
on the wooden flooring with a thud and faced the frozen figure now half in and
half out of the house. “Don’t do it, man,” Mac said. “Cops are on the way.”
His words seemed to send indecision sweeping through the
guy. A pause Mac took advantage of. He lunged, grabbed two fistfuls of the
hoodie material and pulled him away from the window. A heavy fist glanced off
Mac’s cheek. He winced and jerked back, losing his grip. That gave the wiry
figure the opening he needed, and he darted away from Mac to dash down the
length of the porch, leap over the steps and head full-speed across the
pasture. Mac pounded after him.
The guy broke through the tree line and disappeared into
the woods. Mac did the same seconds later, only to stop when he realized he’d
lost him. Mac turned, listening, his eyes searching. Finally, he heard the
crunching of underbrush to his left and headed that way, hit a patch of mud and
slid almost falling. He managed to catch his balance, but a second later, the
roar of a motorcycle captured his attention. After one last push through tree
limbs and vines, he found himself staring at the back of a disappearing bike.
He didn’t know where the trail led, but there was no way he’d catch the guy on
foot. With a sigh, he gave up the chase and retraced his steps.
When he came to the pasture beyond the tree line, he
could see the woman who was, hopefully, his future boss. Isabelle Trent. She
stood on the front porch, a little girl about five years old clutching
Isabelle’s knee with one hand and a doll with her other. Isabelle cradled an
infant in the crook of her right arm.
Dressed in jeans, boots and a long-sleeved red flannel
shirt, she had her blond hair pulled into a messy ponytail. It struck him that
she looked comfortable and completely in her element. If understandably shaken.
Two police officers faced her. One wrote notes in a little black book while the
other spoke into the radio on her shoulder. As Mac approached, Isabelle’s green
eyes landed on him, and the officers turned. Mac made sure they could see his
hands.
“That’s the man who came to the rescue,” Isabelle said.
About the Author
Lynette Eason lives in Simpsonville, SC with her husband and two
children. She is an award-winning, best-selling author who spends her days
writing when she's not traveling around the country teaching at writing
conferences. Lynette enjoys visits to the mountains, hanging out with family
and brainstorming stories with her fellow writers. You can visit Lynette's
website to find out more at www.lynetteeason.com or like her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/lynette.eason
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