Sharon Dunn - Top Secret Identity

The door stopped shaking. She waited for a few minutes, tiptoed across the floor and then peeked out the window.

A motion-sensitive light came on in the distance by the stable. She recognized the broad shoulders and denim jacket of Alex Reardon.

What if her would-be attackers hurt Alex? She couldn’t let that happen.

Pushing her fear aside, she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, turned it and raced outside. Her feet pounded across the hard-packed dirt toward the stable. She was out of breath by the time she caught up with Alex.

“Alex, what are you doing out so late?”

“I thought I saw somebody run toward the stable.” His wavy brown hair appeared soft in the moonlight. “I need to check it out.”

“I know—they tapped on my window and shook my door handle. Maybe we should call the police.” Fear resonated through each word she uttered.

“Call the police?” He hesitated, probably wondering why she was so panicked. “Why would we do that? My guess is it’s just some teenagers messing around. It’s happened before. Nothing we can’t handle on our own.”

Impulsively, she grabbed his upper arm. “I’ll go with you then.” If something happened to him at her expense, she would never forgive herself.

“All right.” Alex shone the flashlight in her direction. “Are you okay to take the inside of the stables? I’ll search around the perimeter. We’ll meet at the other end.” His voice filled with concern.

“I suppose that would be best...” She let go of his arm. “To split up.”

His gaze rested on her long enough for her to feel uncomfortable. He probably thought she was flighty, which was not the impression she wanted to give. If only she could explain to him why she was reacting this way. “We could stay together if you want.”

“No, we’ll go with your plan.” Her voice held an intensity that seemed out of place.

He shook his head, clearly confused by her heightened emotions. “Morgan, we live in a really safe part of the country. In all the time that I’ve lived here, the worst it’s ever been was just some bored teenagers looking for something to do.” The compassion she heard in his voice helped her let go of some of her fear. “If you do get scared, I won’t be far away.”

“Okay, I’ll search the inside of the stable,” she said feeling a little more at ease.

He gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and disappeared around the side of the stable.

Morgan stepped into the stable. The door had not been locked, a responsibility that probably fell to her. She was still learning all her duties. She clicked on the lights. By design, the lighting was minimal and subdued to keep the horses calm. She’d need the flashlight to search the dark corners of the barn. She flung open the equipment box and retrieved it. Several of the horses were standing, and the stomping of their hooves and their jerking heads indicated they’d been disturbed by something or someone.

Morgan paced through the long narrow building shining the light where shadows fell. Most of the horses had calmed down except for Bluebell, a black Arabian. Once at the other end of the stable, Morgan pushed open the barn door and stepped out, shining the light in all directions. No Alex. Her heart skipped a beat.

Her voice cracked when she called for him. He was innocent in all this. It wasn’t right that he should be hurt in any way. Maybe she had been foolish to move out here, to think she could build some kind of life with this threat hanging over her. The last thing she wanted was someone to get hurt because of the danger she faced.

She heard footsteps and turned just as a body barreled into her. She saw a flash of a plaid material right before she was pushed to the ground. She lay on her back with the wind knocked out of her. Terror raged through her as memories from the attack in Mexico flooded her mind.

Alex called her name from a distance. Her assailant let go of her and retreated into the darkness, probably scared away by Alex’s voice.

Alex came around the corner and fell to his knees when he saw her on the ground. His voice filled with concern. “Hey, what happened?”

Morgan blinked. Pain shot through her back. “He knocked me over.” Why hadn’t the man simply killed her? Maybe Alex had been too close and the thug didn’t want witnesses. “He got scared when he heard you yelling.”

Alex reached out his hand to help her to her feet. “I saw one of them run off in the other direction. This is a little more serious if they are going to start hurting people. Last time this happened, it was some teenagers going from farm to farm, running through the property.”

So there was more than one of them. “Do you think you’ll call the police?” Not that that would help her. There was a part of her that really hoped it was just teenagers, but she couldn’t take chances. If there was the smallest chance she’d been found, the U.S. Marshals would need to move her.

His hand cupped underneath her elbow. “I might have to if we can’t get to the bottom of this.” He leaned a little closer to her. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She winced and touched her bruised back muscles. “Guess I hit the ground pretty hard.” Alex’s concern for her warmed her heart.

“Why don’t you come back to the guesthouse? I’ll fix you a cup of tea and get you an ice pack. You probably don’t have much in the way of supplies for the cottage yet.”

“I will, but could you give me a minute? Bluebell sounds really stirred up in there. I’ll make sure everything is locked up tight.” She didn’t want Alex to see how badly she was shaking.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Morgan, this really frightened you.”

The warmth of his touch permeated her thin cotton shirt. She nodded but didn’t say anything, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep the emotion out of her voice. Let him think it was just teenagers. She knew better.

“I’ll lock up while you calm down Bluebell.” His voice filled with compassion. “We’ll go back to the house together.”

They entered the stable. Bluebell stepped side to side in her stall. Morgan slipped into the stall, stroking her hands over the horse’s neck and back. She leaned close so her side rested against the horse’s front flank. She looked into Bluebell’s coal dark eyes.

We’re both afraid, aren’t we?

“It’ll be all right.” Bluebell let out a heavy snort. Her stomping subsided. Morgan leaned in close and buried her face in the horse’s mane. Her eyes warmed with tears.

She had no idea how they’d found her. She had complied with the witness protection rules of not talking about her past or contacting anyone she knew in her former life. It seemed odd, though, that the assailant hadn’t killed her outright. One thing was certain. She couldn’t stay here.

She’d have to pack her things and call the marshals as soon as she could get a cell phone signal.

* * *

“You ready to go?” Alex closed and latched the stable door. He pulled out his ring of keys to lock the door on the other end from the outside. They lived far enough away from the city that crime wasn’t a huge issue. All the same, he should have remembered to lock the doors.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Morgan didn’t turn to him. Her hand went up to her face. When she did turn around, it looked to him as if she’d been crying. Clearly, she didn’t want him to notice, so he didn’t mention it.

In the few days she’d been working there, he’d concluded that Morgan Smith was not easy to get to know. She was friendly and connecting with clients but very closed down when it came to talking about herself.

Morgan gave the horse one final pat on the neck before climbing out of the stall. Alex had to hand it to her—she was good with the horses. He wasn’t in the habit of hiring someone without references, but the day she’d arrived for the interview, she’d talked an uppity horse into taking the weight of a saddle and calmed the frightened kid who’d been dealing with that same horse.