Protected by the Texas Rancher Read online

  “But I feel we need to keep things strictly business. Or friends, maybe both. But nothing more.”

  “Sounds good.” One corner of his mouth curled up in the beginnings of a smile. “I’m glad you’re in agreement.”

  This made her smile. “I wasn’t sure what else to say. You’re a nice guy, Trace. And you’ve been awfully kind to me. It’s just that—”

  “Don’t.” The fierceness of his tone caught her by surprise. “I would never expect that of you. I’m not that kind of guy.” He cleared his throat. “Like you said, it’s just been too long. We’re going to be business partners. It’s always a mistake to mix business with pleasure.”

  Pleasure. Mouth suddenly dry, she nodded. “I agree,” she managed. “Let’s forget it ever happened, okay?”

  Dear Reader,

  In this story, we once again return to my favorite imaginary town of Getaway, Texas. Emma McBride is one of my all-time favorite heroines. She’s strong and resilient and despite everything she’s gone through, she still has the capacity for love. Wrongly convicted in the murder of her husband, Emma is determined to clear her name when she finally gets out of prison. She goes looking for her best friend, Heather, with whom she’s lost touch, and ends up on the doorstep of Heather’s brother, Trace Redkin’s, ranch.

  Trace has a lot on his plate trying to keep his uncle Will’s ranch running and take care of the older man who has Alzheimer’s. When Emma shows up on his doorstep, his caring nature won’t let Trace turn her away. It also doesn’t help that he used to have a crush on her at one time.

  Helping Emma clear her name brings danger to both Emma and Trace. As they search for the truth, someone not only wants to make sure they don’t find it, but believes Emma has something her deceased husband stole from him. Protecting Emma is hard, but for Trace, protecting his heart is even more difficult.

  I hope you enjoy this story of redemption and love amid high-stakes danger!

  Karen Whiddon

  PROTECTED BY THE TEXAS RANCHER

  Karen Whiddon

  Karen Whiddon started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the gorgeous Catskill Mountains, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen now lives in north Texas, writes full-time and volunteers for a boxer dog rescue. She shares her life with her hero of a husband and four to five dogs, depending on if she is fostering. You can email Karen at [email protected]. Fans can also check out her website, karenwhiddon.com.

  Books by Karen Whiddon

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  The Rancher’s Return

  The Texan’s Return

  Wyoming Undercover

  The Texas Soldier’s Son

  Texas Ranch Justice

  Snowbound Targets

  The Widow’s Bodyguard

  Texas Sheriff’s Deadly Mission

  Texas Rancher’s Hidden Danger

  Finding the Rancher’s Son

  The Spy Switch

  Protected by the Texas Rancher

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles.

  I’d like to dedicate this book as always to my husband, who reads every single book I write once it comes out. He’s amazing and I love him!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Reunion at Greystone Manor by Bonnie Vanak

  Chapter 1

  If the cold rain and the jagged flashes of lightning at midnight weren’t bad enough, Emma McBride couldn’t find the spare key her best friend, Heather, always used to keep hidden under a rock by the ranch house’s back door. It didn’t help that the back-porch light had burned out and she ended up on her knees in the mud, searching with her numb fingers in the dark. Drenched and shivering, she cursed the undeniable fact that her luck apparently hadn’t gotten any better since she’d been released from prison.

  Finally abandoning her effort to find the damn key, Emma got up and went around to the dining room window. Heather had often left it unlocked. Naturally, it wasn’t.

  Just in case, she tried the others. Finally, in what she believed to be the guest bedroom, she found a window she could push up. Cold and soaked, she managed to heave herself over the windowsill, landing in a sodden heap on the carpeted floor.

  Just as she’d staggered to her feet and turned to close the window, a light came on, momentarily blinding her. “What the...?” She spun around, fist up, the fighting instinct that had kept her alive in prison activated.

  She found herself facing the end of a shotgun, held by a large and angry-looking man. Heather’s older brother, Trace.

  “Trace,” she managed, hands up. “It’s me, Emma. Emma McBride.”

  Squinting at her, he finally lowered the gun. “I thought you were in prison.”

  “I was.” Gulping air, unable to stop her violent shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone as unfriendly as his expression. “I see you climbed in through that window. Are you adding breaking and entering to your skill set?”

  Which meant, she realized, that Trace Redkin, the guy she’d had a crush on all through high school, believed she’d been guilty. Heather had told her the town had been divided, some refusing to believe she could be a cold-blooded murderer, the other ready to see her locked away for the rest of her life.

  She might have been too, if her appeal hadn’t finally gotten her released for lack of evidence after two years, one month and three days behind bars.

  Gathering her scattered thoughts, she lifted her chin. “Is Heather home?”

  “Heather got married and moved to California six months ago,” he replied. Grabbing a quilt off the end of the bed, he handed it to her. “Here. Wrap yourself up in this. You’re freezing.”

  Grateful, she accepted the quilt. Maybe now, she could get warm. Though what she really wanted was a hot shower and a change of clothes.

  Then, Trace’s words registered. “Heather is gone?” Just like that, her final option was extinguished. She had no money, nowhere to go. While she’d been incarcerated, her father had died with a will leaving everything to his wife of five years. Emma’s stepmother had promptly sold their home and moved to Florida to shack up with her new boyfriend.

  Emma had come home with hopes that Heather would let her stay at the ranch until she could figure out where she went from here. Now, not only was she broke, but clearly she was also homeless. It took every bit of self-control she possessed not to break down. “I... I didn’t know.” When her possessions had been returned to her before being released, she’d still had her old cell phone, but it no longer worked since she didn’t have a carrier.

  “I’m sorry.” Eyeing her, Trace heaved a sigh. “You look beat. Why don’t you dry off and I’ll see if I can find you something to wear? You can sleep in the guest bed for tonight and we’ll talk again in the morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  Later, dry and warm and snuggled underneath clean sheets, Emma fought to stay awake. She needed to try to plan, but fatigue
eventually won out and she must have drifted off. The next thing she knew, she opened her eyes to see sunlight streaming in through the window.

  For a moment, she had no idea where she was. She sat up in bed, disoriented and panicked, her heart racing, before she remembered.

  The ranch. Which now clearly belonged to Trace. Judging by the sunshine, the storm had apparently moved on. Covering her face with her hands, she tried to figure out what on earth she was going to do.

  She’d come this far. She’d survived two years in prison, gotten released and now had the opportunity to clear her name. She might not have money, but she had skills. Before her marriage to Jeremy, she’d been known around Getaway, Texas, for her horse training skills. People had brought their horses from all over the country to have her work with them. Maybe, just maybe, she could work out some kind of deal with Trace for a percent of her fees in exchange for the use of his ranch and a place to stay.

  Did she dare allow herself to hope? If she did, hope would be strange and wonderful after feeling defeated for so long.

  It would all depend on Trace, which meant it could go either way.

  She and Trace had never been close, even though she’d once had a huge crush on him. But he was her best friend’s older brother, and Heather had teased her mercilessly, until Emma had finally started dating another boy in their high school class.

  A quiet tap on the bedroom door startled her. “There’s a bathroom down the hall,” Trace said, without opening the door. “I put clean towels in there and some toiletries, if you’d like a shower. Plus a set of my old sweats for you to wear while we wash your clothes.”

  “Thank you,” she managed, glad he couldn’t see how even this small kindness brought tears to her eyes. Of necessity, she’d had to become tough to survive in prison. She needed to try and draw on some of that toughness now.

  Later, showered and clean and feeling human again, she dressed in the faded sweats Trace had left for her. They were huge, though luckily the pants had a drawstring waist. She rolled up the bottoms of the pants and pushed up the sleeves. Since her sneakers were still damp and her socks were apparently in the washer, she padded out to the kitchen in bare feet.

  The scent of fresh-made coffee had her mouth watering. Trace stood at the stove with his back to her. “Make yourself a cup of coffee if you want,” he said without turning. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m about to make scrambled eggs, toast and bacon.”

  Ache in the throat, once again she found herself blinking back tears. “Thanks,” she said. Next to the coffeepot, he’d even set out a clean mug. While in prison, she’d learned to take her coffee black, so that was how she drank it now.

  Not sure what to do next, she took a seat at the kitchen table. A moment later, with the smell of bacon frying, she pondered how different this scenario was from how her life had been just a week ago.

  “Here you are.” Trace interrupted her thoughts, carrying two plates loaded with food over to the table. After placing the breakfast in front of her, he took a seat directly across from her. “Dig in,” he said.

  In prison, she’d learned to eat as quickly as possible so someone else didn’t take her food. Here, she took a deep breath and forced herself to pick up her fork and eat slowly, like a regular person. Even so, when she looked up, she realized she’d finished before Trace was even halfway done.

  Oh well. Slightly embarrassed, she took a deep sip of her coffee and watched Trace eat.

  “You must have been hungry,” he commented, finally pushing his clean plate aside.

  “I was. Thank you so much for cooking for me.”

  He nodded, his brown eyes missing nothing. “What are your plans from here?” he asked.

  Nervous again, she drank more coffee to cover. “I wanted to see if I could work out an arrangement with you.”

  To his credit, he didn’t immediately shut her down, as she’d half expected. Instead, he continued to regard her, his expression kind. “What kind of an arrangement?

  Oh geez. Blushing, she belatedly realized he might have taken that statement the wrong way. “I don’t know if you remember,” she began, “but I was once really good with horses.”

  The understatement of the year.

  At his nod, she continued, choosing her words carefully. “I’d like to start training horses again, using your facilities. In exchange for that—plus room and board—I’d give you a percentage of my fees.”

  When she’d finished, she watched him, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t respond right away, clearly considering. He’d matured from a good-looking kid into a handsome man, she realized. A rugged cowboy with more than a fair amount of sex appeal. She imagined he had women chasing after him constantly, which was why she felt the need to clarify. “It would be strictly a business arrangement,” she said.

  Slowly, he nodded. “I just have one question. Did you do it? Did you kill your husband?”

  “No.” She didn’t even hesitate. “That’s why the judge ruled in favor of my appeal and I got out of prison.” Deep breath, willing her voice to remain steady. “And one of the first things I plan to do is clear my name.”

  Whether he believed her or not didn’t really matter. Or at least that was what she told herself. Yet a part of her couldn’t help but hope that here at least, she could find one person in her corner.

  Slowly, Trace nodded. “Heather always swore you were innocent. She hated what happened to you.”

  The knowledge that her best friend had never given up on her helped. A lot. “I wonder why she stopped staying in touch,” Emma mused. “Her letters gradually started tapering off. I continued to write to her, but never heard back.”

  Trace frowned. “That’s weird. I really thought she wrote you. Maybe not as often, once she met Conner, but still.”

  “Conner,” she repeated. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. I take it he wasn’t from around here?”

  “Nope. She met him on one of her business trips to California. He’s CEO of one of her client companies. They did a long-distance relationship for a while and then he asked her to move out there.”

  Heather had always been brave and bold. Those traits were some of the things Emma admired about her. “And then they got engaged?”

  Slowly, he nodded. “They lived together for several months and then he popped the question. Since neither of them wanted anything fancy, they got married at city hall.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t even invited. They texted an announcement and a photograph and that’s it.”

  That didn’t sound like the Heather she knew. People change, but still... “How long ago was that?”

  “Six months or so.” Pushing to his feet, he began to clear the table. “I’ll think about your business proposition. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

  Though she almost offered to do the dishes as repayment for him cooking the meal, she stayed seated. Maybe she should give him a bit more information. “Would you like to know how much I’m paid to train a horse?” she asked, eyeing his back. “Though it depends on the situation, and the problem, naturally.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she named her usual price range. “Though that might be outdated now, since it’s been a couple years.”

  When he turned, he met her gaze. “Do you still think you could ask those prices? Even though you clearly haven’t worked with horses while you were incarcerated?”

  Slowly, she nodded. “All it takes is one horse, one success story. I’m good,” she told him, merely stating a fact. “Once word gets out, people will be lining up to secure a spot with me.”

  “I’m going to be blunt,” he warned. “Half this town is convinced you’re a murderer. I’m not sure even the best reputation can survive that.”

  The statement was a blow to her stomach. Sucking in her breath, she straightened, determined to continue. “Again, that’
s why I plan to clear my name. Since the sheriff’s office didn’t, I’m determined to find the real killer. As for my reputation? It might be shot here in Getaway—though I have to believe I still have a few friends here who know me well enough to have faith—but outside of this town, it won’t matter. My name has been linked to enough success stories that anyone who does their research would welcome my help.”

  Trace continued to watch her, his expression kind. “Maybe so.” He shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot. Though you might reduce your rates at first to draw people in.”

  Almost afraid to be optimistic, she nodded. “Does that mean we have a deal?”

  “Sure, why not. Admittedly, the ranch has been struggling. I could use the extra income. And no one is using that guest room anyway, so you’re welcome to have it. I would ask that you agree to help me out around here, at least until you get up and running.”

  “Definitely,” she agreed, once again perilously close to tears. Giving in to impulse, she jumped up and hugged him, just once, quick and tight, before taking off for her room, where she could allow herself to cry unobserved.

  * * *

  After Emma hugged him and rushed off, Trace didn’t move. The instant she’d wrapped her arms around him, he’d battled the urge to tip her head back and cover her mouth with his. Knowing that this would be wrong on so many different levels didn’t do anything to help with his sudden, fierce arousal. He could tell himself several different excuses, ranging from the knowledge that he’d been celibate too long—truth—to the fact that Emma McBride was still one of the most beautiful women he’d seen—also truth.

  In the end, what mattered was that she was extremely vulnerable right now and he wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage. He’d have to work to move past his attraction to her. Surely over time, he’d begin to regard her as a business partner, nothing more, if her plan to start training horses again became a success.

  Right now, though, he could definitely use some help around the place. He’d been spreading himself thin trying to do it all alone since he couldn’t afford to hire any help yet.