Heather Woodhaven - Protected Secrets

Safeguarding the witness...

And his adopted little girl

US Marshal Delaney Patton’s assignment: protect murder witness Bruce Walker and his daughter—a little girl Delaney suspects is the child she gave up for adoption years ago. But before she can explore a possible reunion, Delaney must outsmart the deadly criminal organization tracking their every move. Can she shield them long enough to find the truth...and possibly become part of the family she’s falling for?

HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot-air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black-diamond ski trail in Aspen and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.

Also by Heather Woodhaven

Calculated Risk

Surviving the Storm

Code of Silence

Countdown

Texas Takedown

Tracking Secrets

Credible Threat

Protected Secrets

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Protected Secrets

Heather Woodhaven

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08560-1

PROTECTED SECRETS

© 2018 Heather Humrichouse

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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“We’re driving around until they’re finished with the first witness.” Delaney looked over her shoulder at Bruce for a split second.

His heart sped up as the mail truck sped down the parking ramps. Let this time be different.

A shot rang out. People screamed on the courthouse steps and uniformed men ran out, looking up, weapons in hand. A metal crunching sound reverberated through the vehicle. Bruce reeled forward as the truck spun backward. Someone honked.

“Have we been hit?”

“Everyone okay?” Delaney shouted at the same time.

So the truck had been shot at, but he didn’t see where the bullet had landed. Bruce launched himself out of his seat and sat next to Winnie, both shielding her and frantically checking for any injuries.

Delaney picked up her radio and spoke rapidly. “Shots fired. Two down.”

Bruce groaned, hung his head and kissed Winnie’s forehead.

Someone had been waiting for them.

Dear Reader,

This was probably the hardest story for me to write thus far, though perhaps I think that of every book I’ve just finished.

During the writing of this book, my son’s recovery from a routine surgery became a nightmare. For a brief moment, I thought we’d lost him. I’ll never forget that night, and I’m abundantly thankful for the doctor who wasn’t even supposed to still be there and the on call surgery team that arrived impossibly fast during rush hour. After two weeks of little sleep, my son fully recovered and is doing better than ever.

Toward the end of writing, my sweet dog, and the inspiration for Tracking Secrets , collapsed in the living room and took her last breath. She’d been by my side for the past eleven years, usually trying to put her head on top of the laptop while I typed or flopping on my feet so I had no choice but to keep writing. I’m thankful I have nothing but fond and hilarious memories of her. She was the ideal dog for our family.

So my emotional rollercoaster may have seeped through the pages of the book. It served as a reminder that if you haven’t experienced some things yourself, you might not understand. Even with research. My apologies if I portrayed any aspect of the adoption journey incorrectly as I haven’t been part of an adoption personally.

Delaney’s journey compelled me. She could accept God’s forgiveness but had a harder time forgiving herself. I think everyone battles the tendency to some extent. Winnie has similar traits to my youngest and a certain precocious niece. She was a delight to write. And finally, Iowa is an amazing place to grow up. I’m glad I was able to set the story there. I hope to visit again soon.

Blessings,

Heather Woodhaven

Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God.

—2 Corinthians 3:5

For my children and nieces and nephews. Thanks for all the laughs and stories and imaginative playtime throughout the years. You guys rock.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Bruce Walker recognized his assistant as the only other person in the parking lot. Her silver curls and thick glasses reflected the sun cresting over the tall trees in the distance. “I owe you big, Nancy.” He approached, holding two to-go cups. “I know Saturday mornings are precious.”

“Just missing my cartoons.” She paused. “You see, it used to be Saturday mornings when the cartoons—”

“I’m not that young, Nancy.”