The most wonderful time of the year has arrived for this cowboy in New York Times bestseller Donna Grant’s next novel, Home for a Cowboy Christmas.
Tis the season—for everyone except Emmy Garrett. She’s on the run after witnessing a crime. But when it becomes clear that trouble will continue following her, the US Marshal in charge takes her somewhere no one will think to look–Montana. Not only is Emmy in a new place for her protection, but now, she’s stuck with a handsome cowboy as her bodyguard…and she wants to do more than kiss him under the mistletoe.
Dwight Reynolds left behind his old career, but it’s still in his blood. When an old friend calls in a favor, Dwight opens his home to a woman on the run. He tries to keep his distance, but there’s something about Emmy he can’t resist. She stokes his passion and turns his cold nights into warm ones. When danger shows up looking for Emmy, Dwight risks everything to keep her safe.
If she had to hide, this was as good a place as any. She hadn’t been too keen on Dalton’s idea, but when backed against a wall, a person did everything they could to stay alive.
“It’s just until after the first of the year,” Dalton said as if reading her thoughts.
“They found me in three days this last time.”
Dalton shifted in his seat and leaned his right elbow on the center console. “No one but me knows where you’ll be.”
No one should have known the times before, but they had. A chill raced down Emmy’s spine when she thought of the gun barrel that had been pointed at her head. The feel of the cool metal against her skin, her would-be murderer’s uneven breathing. Had Dalton not unexpectedly checked on her that night, she’d be dead.
“I’m going to find the leak,” Dalton vowed in a voice rife with anger and unease. “I’m going to find them and put an end to things.”
She swiveled her head to look at the marshal. “That may cost you your life.”
“We’re the good guys, Emmy. Or at least we’re supposed to be. Whoever is leaking your information needs to be reminded of that. I’m no fool, though. I’ll be careful.”
She quirked a brow. “How do you plan to do any of that if you aren’t returning to the office?”
It was one of the reasons she had agreed to this trip. After Dalton shot and killed the assassin sent after her, he had pulled her after him out of the hotel to his company vehicle and sped away. To her shock, Dalton had pulled into a parking garage and parked the car. They had jumped out and rushed away from the SUV. He then led her through the streets of Denver, telling her when to keep her head down and when to put her back to a camera so they couldn’t be picked up. That took them to an old, beat-up truck with tinted windows.
He reached into the back of the cab and pulled out a black duffle bag, tossing it onto her lap and ordering her to look through it. There were hats and wigs of all styles inside. Emmy made her choice. Surprisingly, it made her feel somewhat shielded.
Dalton swapped his Stetson for a ball cap, pulling it low. Then they drove away, Denver in the rearview mirror. On the road, he laid out a reckless, wild plan to take her to Montana. First, they would travel east, then south, then west, and finally north to big sky country.
Emmy had no idea if the plan was good or not. All she wanted was to stay alive. Dalton had saved her life. Maybe she was naïve to believe that she could trust him, but she knew she wouldn’t get very far on her own. So, she did everything he told her.
Every few hundred miles, they stopped at places he had other vehicles waiting. Inside each were three burner phones still in their packages. Dalton would open one, dial a number and simply push a button.
Emmy later learned that those calls were to individuals who would make sure their previous vehicle disappeared. She didn’t ask how. She didn’t care if it meant that she lived to see another day.
She raised her brows, waiting for him to answer her question. Emmy knew if he returned to the marshals’ office in Denver, it would only be a matter of time until someone figured out what he had done with her.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m not stupid.” He snorted and shook his head. “I know it doesn’t appear that way. I suppose I put too much trust in my fellow marshals, but now I’ll be looking into everyone with a fine-tooth comb.”
“Just don’t get yourself killed. You’re the only one I trust.”