Montana Lawman
Librarian Molly Brewster had successfully created a new identity for herself until Deputy Sheriff Holt Tanner started asking questions about her past. Molly couldn't help but look to the ground when he watched her with his soulful brown eyes and waited for her to answer. In Holt, she sensed a need as deep as her own–to be loved completely…and without fear.Holt had a case to solve and faced a beguiling librarian with secrets. He wanted to ease the pain that kept Molly from confiding in him, but he didn't quite trust her…or himself. Would his search for the truth force Molly into hiding, or would his love set her free and make her his?
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Stories of family and romance beneath the Big Sky!
A movement from across the street caught his attention through the window.
The pencil Holt Tanner was holding snapped in two as he watched Molly Brewster skip up the front steps of the library.
She wore a white dress with no sleeves, and as she moved, the waves of her hairânot tied up in a knot today for onceâdrifted around her bare shoulders. Then, in one moment before she disappeared inside, she looked across the wide street, almost as if she sensed his attention. And maybe she could see Holt sitting there, behind the half-opened blinds of his window, for she suddenly turned and darted inside the library as if the devil himself was after her.
She was bold and saucy one minute. Nervous and skittish the next.
Holt shoved away from his desk, stuffing his little notepad in his pocket. âIâll be at the library,â he told his dispatcher.
âYou might consider wiping the drool off your chin before you go over there,â his dispatcher replied.
ALLISON LEIGH
There is a saying that you can never be too rich or too thin. Allison doesnât believe that, but she does believe that you can never have enough books! When her stories find a way into the heartsâand bookshelvesâof others, Allison says she feels sheâs done something right. Making her home in Arizona with her husband, she enjoys hearing from her readers at [email protected] or P.O. Box 40772, Mesa, AZ 85274-0772.
For my girls
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
Epilogue
Chapter One
P anic tasted cold and dark in her mouth as Molly Brewster sat bolt upright. Her heart charged in her chest and she sucked in a harsh breath, willing away a surge of nausea. Something was gouging into her hip and she reached blindly, fingers closing over the weapon. She yanked, pulled it free and stared at it.
How to Take Control of Your Lifeâand Keep It. The title of the hardcover book stared back at her.
Sheâd fallen asleep on the couch reading.
Her panic oozed away, leaving her limp. She swung her legs off the couch and huddled forward, pushing the book onto the coffee table. She was trembling and her heart still knocked crazily inside her chest, so loud she fancied she could hear it in her ears.
âItâs Sunday afternoon, Molly,â she whispered. âYouâre perfectly safe.â
The knocking grew to a thunderous sound.
The door. Someone was at the door. Pounding louder than her heartbeat, making the door shudder nearly as much as she was.
Shaking her head at her foolishness, Molly pushed off the couch and hurriedly crossed the living room toward the door. The nightmare sheâd been having clung to her mind, making her feel more fuzzy than ever, and her hand shook as she grabbed hold of the doorknob.
She no longer lived in fear.
She deliberately yanked open the door, if only to prove to herself that the nightmare was nothing but imaginings. The tall man standing on the other side, though, nearly startled her right out of the few wits she still possessed. Her hand kept a tight, sweaty hold of the doorknob.
Control. She scrambled frantically for the silent mantra. You are in control.
She made herself look at him, gaze skimming up the blue jeans, stuttering over the badge hooked over his belt, traveling over a hard torso clad in a khaki-colored uniform shirt that was probably crisp when heâd put it on, but now looked more than a little wilted because of the heat. Beyond that, to his sharp features, black hair and dark, inscrutable brown eyes, she couldnât force herself to look. Control only went so far, and the man had made her feel itchy from the first time sheâd seen him, even before sheâd known what he was.
The doorknob was practically making a permanent imprint on the palm of her hand, but she still couldnât seem to make herself let go. âDeputy Tanner. What are you d-doing here?â
Holt Tanner slid his dark glasses down a notch, eyeing the woman clinging to her door as if it were a life raft. Approximate height, five-five. Weight about one-fifteen. Age had been listed as twenty-seven, but she looked even youngerâ¦regardless, she was too damned young for him.
Annoyed with the thought, Holt pulled off his sunglasses completely and tucked them in his shirt. âI need to ask you some questions, Ms. Brewster.â
There wasnât one lick of color in her alabaster face. If anything, she looked as if sheâd seen a ghost. As they had almost from the moment heâd met Molly Brewster when heâd first moved to Rumor eight months ago, her eyes glanced at him, then away. Just long enough for him to get a gut-tightening sight of those incredibly light blue eyes surrounded by lush black lashes. Just long enough for him to wonder, yet again, what she was hiding.
If there was one thing Deputy Sheriff Holt Tanner knew for certain, it was that he couldnât afford to trust Molly Brewster. She was secretive, for one thing. And she made him hot, for another. One or the other irritation was bad enough, but the combination of the two was definitely no good for his peace of mind.
