Brenda Mott - To Protect His Own

But Alex knew it wasn’t a good idea. The woman in the wheelchair at the other table seemed uncomfortable in her surroundings…any fool could see that.

“Nah.” Hallie kept her full attention to her meal, munching fries, wolfing down her huge cheeseburger.

Where did she put it all?

“You want to hit a movie after this?”

The girl shook her head.

Alex hated that his little girl’s innocence had been tainted by a senseless act of violence.

“Gotta pee.” Hallie jumped up and headed for the bathroom.

Inside, she closed herself into one of the two stalls. She waited impatiently for the woman in the next one to hurry up. A few moments later she heard water running as the lady washed her hands for what seemed an eternity.

Come on, come on! Hallie stood quietly, listening for the sound of the door. At last the dryer shut off, the door snicked open, then shut with a soft click.

Hallie closed her eyes and focused. She could do this. It was easy, once you learned how. She raised her fingers to her mouth and felt her stomach begin to heave in a familiar wave of motion. Then she leaned over the toilet, purging herself of everything she’d just eaten.

But not just the food.

Of everything bad that lay like a thick, black poison inside her.

Dear Reader,

Do you ever stop and think about how the course of our lives can change in an instant? I often think about that and wonder “What if?” What if a person made a different choice at one single moment along his or her life’s journey? It fascinates me that one small action can drastically alter everything.

But sometimes the path we take is not by choice. Sometimes it’s by accident, or a seemingly cruel twist of fate. Yet I’ve found that good can come from the proverbial dark cloud. When Caitlin Kramer suffers a severe accident, she’s forced to take a long, hard look at her goals and dreams. At exactly what sort of person she is.

Alex Hunter has traveled a similar path. His main concern is protecting his daughter, and he’ll go to any length to do it, including moving to the small Colorado mountain town of Deer Creek. Little does he know that fate has plans for him. And for Caitlin.

I hope you’ll enjoy the twists and turns of Alex and Caitlin’s journey to true love. Don’t you just love a happy ending?

I enjoy hearing from my readers. You can e-mail me at BrendaMott@hotmail.com (please reference the book title on the subject line). Or stop by my author’s page at the Smoky Mountain Romance Writers Web site at smrw.org or SuperAuthors.com. Happy reading!

Brenda Mott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to the wonderful women

who made my lifelong dream come true:

my editors, past and present—Paula Eykelhof,

Beverley Sotolov, Kathleen Scheibling, Victoria Curran,

Laura Shin—and my agent, Michelle Grajkowski

of Three Seas Literary Agency.

My thanks go deeper than words can say.

PROLOGUE

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

EPILOGUE

“BE CAREFUL DRIVING HOME, Caitlin. It’s starting to snow.” Shauna pulled her head back inside, then partially closed the front door behind the other woman.

“I will. Don’t forget—the indoor arena, six sharp.” Caitlin pointed an accusing finger at her longtime friend. “No hitting the snooze button. We need to get in one last practice session before I head back to school.”

“I’ll be there,” Shauna promised with a laugh.

Caitlin waved and hurried toward her Pacific-blue Jaguar, parked near the barn a short distance from Shauna Meyers’s front yard. As she headed down the dirt-and-gravel road, she flipped the heater on full blast. February in Colorado could be brutal, and it looked like tonight would be no exception. She regretted that she hadn’t worn a coat this afternoon when she’d left for Shauna’s house. She should’ve known the fickle mountain sunshine and mid-fifties temperature made no promises. But it didn’t matter. The Jaguar X had heated seats, and her long-sleeved sweater was warm enough.

She slid a CD into the stereo, then turned her wipers on as the overture to the Marriage of Figaro filled the car. The snowflakes were getting bolder, bigger, and she flicked her headlights to low beam. By the time she reached the two-lane highway, the snow was coming down in earnest. She’d hoped to get home before the roads got bad, but the ranch was a good seven miles from the Meyers’s place, and the snow was starting to stick to the pavement. Suddenly her car shimmied. She looked in her mirrors but couldn’t see anything. Yet the car handled in a way that told her something was wrong, so Caitlin pulled over to the shoulder.

Nuts! A flat tire. Left rear side. If only she’d taken Dillon up on his offer to teach her basic vehicle maintenance, including how to change a tire. At the time, his big-brother concerns seemed unnecessary. After all, she had her auto club membership. But as she stood in the falling snow, the thought of waiting for the auto club to send someone from town didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. At the pace people moved in Deer Creek, it might take a while, and she didn’t relish the thought of sitting in her car at the side of the dark mountain highway.

Besides, she realized with a groan, she’d left her cell phone at home. Again. Should she walk back to town and find a pay phone, or stay here in the hope a Good Samaritan came along? The thought was no sooner in her head when a Chevy Blazer eased around a bend in the road from the same way she’d come, and slowed to a crawl. Relieved, Caitlin waved frantically at the driver to stop. But as the Blazer pulled in behind her, the vulnerability of her situation made Caitlin suddenly wary. She relaxed, though, when she saw the lone occupant was a woman who looked not much older than her own twenty-three years.

Before she could make a move toward the vehicle, another SUV rounded the curve in the Blazer’s wake, swerving wildly. It crossed over the highway’s dotted yellow line, then veered back toward the shoulder of the road. Toward the Chevy Blazer.

Caitlin froze in the headlights.

The SUV struck the Chevy with such force, a deafening screech rent the air, and Caitlin tried to scramble out of the way. Tried to flee from the on-coming vehicles. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the Blazer skidded sideways and plunged into the ravine below. The dark-colored SUV fish-tailed as the driver attempted to correct his mistake in judgment, and struck Caitlin’s car.

Her sluggish mind reasoned that even diving into the ravine would be better than being run down. But the Jag clipped her before she could reach safety, flinging her not into the ravine, but in the opposite direction. Onto the highway. She heard squealing brakes and felt intense pain that seemed to wrack her entire body.

Then nothing.

CAITLIN KRAMER found it ironic that her dreams would be shattered on her birthday. She faced her physical therapist, finally realizing what she hadn’t wanted to admit in the six months since the accident. That she would be lucky to even ride a pleasure horse again. She could definitely kiss the Olympics goodbye.