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  Sitting in the interview room, it dawned on Dawson just how much trouble Autumn might be in. She had, after all, confessed to arson. The who, how and why remained to be seen. He would ask routine questions and try to determine why she would volunteer to be charged for a crime she didn’t commit.

  There had to be more to the story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it. His mind snapped to self-defense. She was a beautiful woman who might’ve gotten involved in a bad situation. It happened.

  Nothing could prepare him for the shot he took to the heart at seeing her again. She had changed a lot in the past year. Her shiny wheat-colored hair fell well past her shoulders in waves. Even with her eyes cast down to the white tiled flooring, he could almost see their violet hue. Her lips seemed fuller, pinker. Maybe it was the fact she had on no makeup and her hair looked natural, but this didn’t seem like Autumn at all.

  Maybe too much time had passed, and he wasn’t remembering her very well. They’d had a whirlwind courtship before an even faster wedding.

  She’d gained a few curves that made her even sexier. Hell, he didn’t need to be thinking about those right now. He took in other differences, too. She no longer had bangs or wore designer clothing from head to toe.

  Of course, those were cosmetic changes. He knew firsthand how a few little changes could make a person look completely different. He’d hidden enough witnesses in his day to know the value of a hat, scarf and pair of sunglasses.

  Still, it struck him as odd that she wouldn’t want to make eye contact with him. She had to know who was waiting in the room to talk to her. She would’ve been given the name of her visitor and even if she hadn’t, that would give her even more reason to want to find out who would be sitting in the chair across the table from her.

  Keeping her eyes cast down made her look guilty of something.

  He cleared his throat and when she finally did glance up, the fear in her eyes was a second punch. What was she so afraid of? Him? Of his reaction to her walking out with no real explanation? He’d nursed a bruised ego longer than he cared to admit.

  Dawson waited until the jailor instructed her to sit and then moved to the corner. Arms folded across his chest and feet apart in an athletic stance, he waited.

  Autumn didn’t sit. She stared at Dawson for a long moment and didn’t speak, like they were playing a game and the person who spoke first lost. Her cheeks flushed, a telltale sign her body still reacted to him whether she wanted to admit it or not. Physical attraction had never been their problem. There was something different about the way she stood that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. The oddities were racking up.

  Even so, seeing her was a lightning strike in the center of the chest.

  “Go away. You shouldn’t be here.” Hearing her voice again shouldn’t send a shot of warmth through his heart.

  “Really? Because I was about to say the same thing about you.” He clasped his hands together on top of the table and leaned forward. “What’s going on, Autumn?”

  That question could go way back to their past but that wasn’t what he was referring to right now.

  “I don’t know what you mean, and my life is none of your business.” Her shoulders tensed and the lines on her forehead appeared like they did when she was concentrating. Her defensive posture spoke volumes about how she felt at seeing him again. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. She’d been clear about her intentions when she’d walked out and then had divorce papers served.

  Those violet eyes threw darts at him. “Why are you here?”

  “I came to return a few things you left at the ranch and to see if I can help you get yourself out of this...” he glanced around “...mess.”

  “You don’t care about me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Autumn. I do care.” He wanted to add that he wished like hell that he didn’t. He’d known seeing her again was going to be hard on him. He just didn’t know how bad it was going to get.

  Chapter Two

  “I’ll sign whatever you need to let her go,” Dawson said to the jailor who was standing quietly in the corner.

  “You can’t do that.” Summer pushed off the desk and started pacing. Nothing prepared her for being in the same room with Dawson O’Connor. She’d recognized her sister’s husband from the pictures Autumn had sent of their wedding day. There’d been two. One of the couple standing next to each other. Dawson’s arm had been around the waist of his bride, who’d been dressed in all white. For some reason that one burned into Summer’s memory. Could it have been the only time her sister had seemed remotely happy? And then there’d been one of Dawson that had been taken on the same day. His face was turned toward a wooded area. He didn’t seem to care that a camera phone was aimed at him. He was strong, like the muscles-for-days type of body. But, it was his smile that struck her the most.

  In the pictures, he’d been seriously good-looking. Tie loosened, top couple buttons on his shirt undone, he’d been leaning against a fence post looking all relaxed. Happy. Seeing him in person, she realized the snaps hadn’t done him justice. There was a magnetism about him that drew her gaze and made it stick. His looks came through loud and clear on the digital files, but he was sinning-on-Sundays gorgeous in person.

  “Like hell I can’t. Just because we’re divorced doesn’t mean I can’t help you.”

  Summer didn’t bother to hide her shock. “Hold on. What did you just say?”

  “I said I wanted to help—”

  She waved her arms in the air, stopping him midsentence. “Not that part. We’re divorced?”

  A dark brow went up and she realized her mistake. Her sister never mentioned anything about a divorce.

  Dawson O’Connor had that whole tall, dark and handsome bit nailed down. It was easy to see why Autumn would be attracted to a man like him. His rough, masculine voice traveled over Summer like warmth and sex appeal and temptation.

  Summer folded her arms tightly across her chest. She turned toward the door. “I want to go back to my cell now.”

  “Go ahead and do that.” There was something foreboding in Dawson’s tone that stopped her in her tracks. “Call the cop over and have me kicked out of here. Then what? What’s your next play?”

  She didn’t immediately answer, and he must’ve taken that as a sign she was hearing what he was saying and willing to keep listening.

  He continued, “I sure hope you have a next move in mind because this one seems like an act of desperation.”

  She couldn’t argue. She didn’t have it in her to put up a fight. Plus, he was speaking the truth. In fact, no truer words had ever been spoken. She’d been desperate. Desperation caused her to pose as her sister. Desperation caused her to confess to a crime she didn’t commit. The only reason she’d confessed was to escape the bad guys on her trail. And it was desperation that had her needing Dawson O’Connor to be as far away from her as possible.

  And, no, she hadn’t figured out her next move. Plus, she was starving. Her stomach growled, picking that time to remind her that she hadn’t even figured out her next meal.

  His tone softened when he said, “Allow me to get you out of here. We both know you didn’t commit the crime you’re confessing to and so do they. I don’t know what you’re up to and I don’t know why this seemed like a good option.” He waved his arms in the area. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk and see if I can help you get back on your feet.”

  His unexpected kindness tapped into a long-forgotten place buried deep inside. A place that had no business seeing the light of day.

  “I appreciate your willingness to help me after what I put you through.” Summer had no personal knowledge of exactly what that meant but knowing her sister it was a lot. Based on the look in his eyes, it was far more than this man deserved. “I can’t accept your help. We’re divorced. What happens to me doesn’t concern you anymore.”

&n
bsp; “Is that what you think? I’m the kind of person who could walk away from someone I cared about once? Because if that’s true you clearly did us both a favor by walking out last year.” He threw a hand up before she could answer. “Never mind. The past is the past. We both moved on. And now you find yourself here. You don’t want my help. There’s not a whole lot I can do about that. But let me ask you this. How long do you really think it’s going to take for whomever you’re running from to find you here?”

  Those words were the equivalent of a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head. He was right. Hearing him say those words as plainly as he had brought home the fact that she wasn’t safe anywhere anymore. The cops were onto her about the lie and she figured they’d boot her out soon anyway.

  Autumn had gushed about life on the ranch. A remote location far away from Austin sounded pretty good right about now.

  Summer took in a deep breath meant to fortify her nerves and prepared to shock him. “Fine. I’ll let you pay my bail, but you have to take me home with you.”

  * * *

  SUMMER WAS STILL surprised Dawson had agreed to her terms as she walked into his home on an expansive ranch property. Mental images of him sharing this place with her sister slammed into her—images she didn’t like for reasons she didn’t want to explore. An attraction was so out of the question.

  She glanced around the room and was initially shocked to realize there were no photographs of the two of them. Then, it dawned on her that her sister had filed for divorce last year. Of course, any pictures that had been hanging on the walls would’ve been taken down.

  The place was decorated in a surprisingly masculine style. Or, maybe it shouldn’t be such a surprise. Again, he might’ve redecorated. Thinking her sister had walked in this very room not that long ago struck an emotional chord.

  Summer tucked her chin to her chest and blinked her eyes, trying to clear away the tears threatening. For the sake of Autumn’s memory, Summer needed to hold it together. For the sake of the investigation, she needed to continue the lie even though after meeting Dawson it was increasingly difficult to hold the line. For the sake of her own sanity, she needed to keep her distance from him on both an emotional and physical level.

  Getting too close to her sister’s ex would only add to both of their heartbreak. Despite the tough exterior, one look in his eyes told her that his feelings had run deep for Autumn.

  A sound in the next room caused her to jump over the back of the couch and drop to her knees. It took a second to register the fact that Dawson’s eyes were on her, studying her. Analyzing her.

  Of course, she should’ve realized her extreme reaction would draw his attention. She also shouldn’t let it warm her heart that Dawson still cared enough about her sister to drive all the way to Austin to bail her out of jail.

  “It’s just Laurel. She’s probably finishing up cleaning for the day.” He didn’t so much as blink.

  “You have a housekeeper?” The raised eyebrow he gave her in response to her question told her she’d just made another mistake. She needed to keep the questions to a minimum. Lay low for a few hours until she could figure out her next move, grab a meal and definitely not talk to him more than she had to.

  There was no way she would stick around and put Dawson or his family in danger. Was that the reason her sister had divorced him? Had she known trouble was coming and wanted to protect him? Cut all ties to save him from her fate? Had she married a US marshal thinking he could keep her safe?

  “You know we did. I still do. Even though I’ve told Laurel a hundred times I don’t need the help. She’s stubborn that way. You remember that about her.” From everything she could tell about the man so far, her sister was right. He was good-looking beyond a casual description. Carved-from-granite jawline. Check. Thick, dark hair—the kind that her fingers itched to get lost in. Check. Serious brown eyes with a hint of sadness. Check. He was kind. It was the only explanation for him going out of his way to help her after being served papers. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who took divorce lightly. In fact, he seemed like the type who put family above all else.

  A middle-aged woman padded into the room. She had a kind face and a stout build. In one hand, she white-knuckled the handle of a pail. In the other, she gripped a white cleaning rag.

  Summer scrambled to her feet. The woman—Laurel—gasped. Her chin practically dropped to her chest. Mouth agape, she released her grip on the bucket. It tumbled onto the tile, crashing against the flooring.

  “I’m sorry.” Summer glanced around, desperate to find something to help contain the spill. She ran toward the open-concept kitchen and made it to the counter with the paper towel roll at the same time as Dawson.

  He gave her a small look of approval, like she remembered something because she was home. That look nearly cracked her heart into two pieces. Getting out of there and out of Katy Gulch just jumped up her priority scale. She hadn’t found paper towels because this was her home. Their location had been intuitive. They’d been placed next to the kitchen sink—an obvious place. All she’d done was follow a line across the counter until she saw the paper towels.

  It dawned on her that Dawson must’ve loved her sister and the divorce had to have been hard on him. Autumn had ended their marriage without explanation or ceremony.

  This close, she could easily see the dark circles cradling his honey-brown eyes. She could almost feel the toll that caring for Autumn had taken on him, because the feeling was so familiar to her it was palpable. Caring for Autumn was hard. Draining at times. Still the question burned. What had Autumn gotten herself into?

  Happiness had always been fleeting for a Grayson. It was beyond Summer’s comprehension how her sister could’ve found it with this man and then walked away. She grabbed the paper towels off the counter and turned toward the mess. In all the commotion, Summer didn’t notice the small black-and-white dog that had run behind Dawson.

  She dropped to the floor and used half the roll of paper towels, trying to mop up the spill.

  Laurel smiled nervously at her. She had kind eyes and what Summer was certain would be an equally kind heart.

  Dawson joined them, the little dog by his side, which she could now see was a puppy. Since the dog was probably a safe topic, Summer decided to start there.

  “Who is this little guy?”

  “My shadow,” Dawson said. “Hence, his name is Shadow.”

  “You should’ve seen this little guy when Dawson first found him.” Laurel made a tsk-tsk noise. “It’s impossible to imagine what kind of person could just dump a little guy like this all alone in the country, leaving him unable to fend for himself.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Dawson said, looking embarrassed by the attention. “He got into a tangle with something—”

  “Dawson’s being modest. Shadow was attacked by a coyote. Dawson heard what was happening and hopped off Mabel—” she flashed eyes at Summer when no recognition dawned “—you remember his horse.”

  “Oh. Right. Mabel. Yes.” Lying to this sweet woman made Summer feel awful. There was no way she could keep up the charade. Telling Laurel, exposing the truth, might just put the woman in danger. Summer couldn’t do that, either. This woman was all s’mores and campfires and the kind of person who probably baked cookies on a chilly day.

  “So, Dawson here literally forced open the jowls of the coyote and ripped this little guy from its teeth.” Laurel was clearly proud of him, not that Summer could blame the woman. “Never mind that the coyote’s mouth then closed on Dawson’s elbow. Tore him up pretty good before he managed to get free.”

  Summer didn’t notice his left elbow until then. A pretty gnarly scar ran a solid four inches across his skin.

  “Wild things are dangerous. It was really brave of you to take on the coyote.” She tried to stifle the admiration in her voice. It was dif
ficult. She also realized the statement covered more than just his coyote encounter.

  “Laurel is making too big of a deal out of what happened. All I know is that helping this little guy out of trouble gave me a shadow I can’t shake around the house.” He nodded toward the black-and-white pup that had yet to grow into his oversize paws. The hint of annoyance in his tone seemed clearly just for show. Dawson scratched the dog behind his ears.

  If the little guy had been a cat, he would’ve purred. She could think of worse problems than to have the adoration of an adorable puppy. And Summer figured little doggies weren’t the only things willing to follow Dawson O’Connor around, eyes filled with admiration. With sex appeal in buckets, she suspected half the women in town would do the same thing. The other half were either married or dead.

  Summer also couldn’t help but notice how Laurel kept a tentative eye on her. The kind housekeeper looked like she’d seen a ghost. Based on her expression and reactions, the woman Laurel assumed was Autumn was the last person she expected to see. More proof that Summer’s sister had left a mess in her wake. Autumn could be like a volcano. Mesmerizing to see and experience until she erupted. Then, it was pure devastation for anyone who got too close or landed in her path.

  “The mess is all cleaned up now. Can I drop Shadow off at the barn on my way to the main house?” Laurel asked.

  “He’d like that. Wouldn’t you, little guy?” Dawson picked up the pup in one sweeping motion and brought him nose to nose.

  “Having another dog to play with might be good for him.” Summer could’ve sworn the puppy smiled.

  “He loves playing with Apollo and it’s good for him since he lost Daisy. Apollo has been moping around for weeks. The only time I’ve seen him perk up in the slightest is when Shadow comes around.” Laurel walked over to Dawson, who handed over the sweet pup.

  “Be nice to Apollo. No biting his ears with those sharp puppy teeth.” Despite the warning, his voice was low and warm as he scratched the pup behind the ears. “Will you let me know when I need to pick him up?”