Shirlee McCoy - Safe by the Marshal's Side

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HER LIFE IS ON THE LINEFor a year, U.S. Marshal Hunter Davis has protected witness Annie Delacorte and her toddler daughter. But now, someone is determined to stop Annie from testifying against the men who killed her husband. To guard Annie, by-the-book Hunter will have to break a promise to himself: to not get emotionally involved. After all, he already cares more deeply than he ever imagined for the sweet family of two . . . a family he’ll do anything to keep safe and sound by his side.Witness Protection: Hiding in plain sight.

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There needed to be as much commitment to the relationship as there was to work, and Hunter didn’t think he’d ever be able to give that. He certainly hadn’t had a good example of how to make it work, that was for sure.

He frowned, not sure why he was letting his mind wander in that direction.

Another soft sound drifted from Annie’s room. He peeked in the door. The bed was empty. His heart jumped in surprise, but he wasn’t worried. No way could Sophia have gone far. Then again, he didn’t know how far a toddler would have to go to find trouble in an apartment that wasn’t baby-proofed.

“Sophia?” he called as he walked into the room.

No answer.

He rounded the bed and found her lying beside it, a blanket clutched in one arm. Still sound asleep by the look of things.

He scooped her up, planning to put her back in bed, but her little arms wrapped round his neck, and she held on tight.

“Time to get back in bed, Sophia,” he said.

“Where’s Mommy?” She popped her thumb in her mouth and eyed him suspiciously.

“In the living room. She’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I want Mommy,” she somehow managed to say without taking her thumb out of her mouth.

For such a young kid, she was very articulate, every word she spoke crystal clear. He had good reason to know it. She was speaking more and more lately, her voice high-pitched and sweet. “All right. I’ll get her for you.”

He tried to put her down again, but she tightened her grip on his neck.

“Hey,” he said, easing one of her little arms from his neck before she cut off circulation. “You’ve got quite a grip, kid.”

“I not kid. I Sophia.”

The comment surprised a laugh out of him. “Sorry. Sophia.”

“Good boy, Hunter,” she said solemnly, patting his cheek.

He was more amused than he probably should be. He was working, after all. Protecting Sophia and Annie. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.

“Come on,” he said, carrying her from the room. “Let’s get your mom.”

“And a cookie?”

He almost laughed again. “That’s up to your mom.”

“What’s up to me?” Annie hurried into the hall. Obviously, she’d heard him talking to Sophia. She took the toddler from his arms and eyed him with the same suspicion he’d seen in her daughter’s eyes.

They looked a lot alike. Both with dark hair and big blue eyes. Both with smooth skin and delicate features. Hunter had seen pictures of Joe. His hair had been light brown, his eyes gray. Whatever he’d passed on to his daughter didn’t show in her face.

“Sophia wanted a cookie,” he said.

“Does Mommy ever give you cookies before breakfast, Sophia?” She looked at her daughter rather than him, and he had the distinct feeling she was trying to cut him out of the conversation, exclude him from their little circle of family.

That should have been just fine. He’d spent the vast majority of his adult years standing on the edges of other people’s lives. It was part of the job.

For some reason, with Annie, it bothered him.

With her, the quick pivot and half jog down the hall and away from him was more than annoying. It was downright insulting. He’d been providing for Sophia’s needs for months, making sure the little girl was safe and protected. In the last safe house, he’d been the one to buy outlet covers. He’d also been the one to shove them into every outlet in the house so that Sophia wouldn’t stick her fingers into the sockets. He’d purchased a car seat for their trips to and from the airport and to and from the prosecuting attorney’s office. He’d even researched the best ones, making sure that he bought one with the highest safety rating. He’d purchased cabinet locks for the kitchen and little padded covers for the edges of the coffee table in the living room. Annie hadn’t had to think about or worry about any of those things. They’d been done before she’d arrived.

So, yeah, having Sophia snatched from his arms and hurried away as though he might kidnap the kid irked.

He almost asked Annie what her problem was. Why she felt the need to protect her daughter from the guy who’d spent the past month providing everything the little girl needed.

His better self prevailed. His professional self, the one who always kept his cool and never let a witness shake his confidence or his calm, won out over irritation.

Barely.

And that worried him.

Maybe the past year had taken more of a toll than he’d thought it had. Losing Daniel in the line of duty, seeing his team suffer, had given him plenty of sleepless nights. With the Delacorte trial approaching, the danger to Sophia and Annie was intensifying. That had never bothered him with other cases, but this case was different. It involved a completely innocent woman and her child. He’d found himself caring just a little more, going to just a little more trouble for his charges.

Going to a little more trouble was one thing—letting them affect his emotions was another. Once he got Annie safely through the trial, he was going to take a vacation, spend a couple of weeks at his uncle’s ranch in Montana. He’d always loved it there. The fresh air and wide-open spaces. The chance to breathe and think without the clutter of city noise and smog.

He glanced at his watch. He needed to be at the office in two hours. His replacement would arrive soon. The best thing he could do was prepare for the meeting.

He grabbed a laptop from the room beside Annie’s and carried it into the living room. Annie was in the kitchen, making eggs for Sophia. Serena was manning the monitor.

He settled into a chair, opened the laptop and got to work.

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