Page 3 of Captive at Rescue Ridge

“I sure can try.”

Those words weren’t exactly reassuring. Something else had struck Archer as odd a few seconds ago, but he was just now realizing what it was. When he’d retrieved his cell from his pocket, it had been otherwise empty. He checked again as Travis fired off a few texts to his team so they could investigate.

No key fob.

Archer muttered a curse as he turned tail and gaited across the vestibule, out the door, and into the parking lot. Travis was a couple of steps behind him.

The sheriff caught up. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“My truck is here, but my key fob is missing.”

“Missing or lost?” Travis asked.

“Missing.”

“Are you sure it didn’t fall out of your pocket?” Travis continued.

“I’m certain.” He was figuratively scratching his head because his truck hadn’t been stolen. “Wouldn’t the person who took my key also take my truck?”

“Not necessarily.” Travis’s gaze shifted to the ground. “Someone might have wanted to get inside to steal something. Do you keep your wallet inside?”

“No.” Archer joined the sheriff in the search. He understood the logic of someone wanting something inside the truck. Once the person got what they wanted, they would toss the key fob.

Side by side, they covered the ground from the front door to his vehicle.

“Any other keys on the ring with the fob?” Travis asked.

“Yes.” Archer cursed. “To the guest cabin on ranch property where I’m staying.”

Travis had his cell out in a second flat, calling for a deputy nearest Rescue Ridge Ranch to meet him there. His gaze immediately shifted back to Archer. “Want a ride home?”

Goingto see Archer Sturgess had been a huge mistake. Annalee Copeland realized the fact a little too late, considering the deed was done. Worse yet, he’d seen her. She was certain he’d spied her from across the room. Turned out, there wasn’t a hat brim large enough to keep him from spotting her. Had he recognized her? Annalee would bet yes, but she wasn’t certain one way or another. One fact was clear; her skin had sizzled the second his gaze had landed on her, just like old times. The intensity of their emotions had scared the hell out of her at seventeen, and that was a big part of the reason she’d left Saddle Junction for a fresh start. Or should she sayanotherfresh start? Wiping the slate clean had seemed like the way to go, but then she’d been running all her life. It was what she knew how to do, and she was good at it. Sticking around and putting down roots had sounded like punishment. Prison-level punishment.

She’d never forgotten Archer, though, and no one had measured up since. Even at a young age, she’d known the kind of relationship she’d had with Archer only came once in a lifetime. She’d spent all the years between now and then trying to chalk it up to innocence and young love instead.

Annalee didn’t want to think about the other part of her life—a part that caught up to her too often and still haunted her to this day, no matter how many times she escaped. Becca Copeland. The problem wasn’t exactly with Annalee’s mother—it was the company she kept. The names might change, but the dudes were carbon copies of each other. Abusers. Control freaks. Ex-cons. Becca’s boyfriends and, sometimes, husbands were bad news. It was the only constant in an ever-changing world.

No matter where Annalee hid, Becca and her latest disaster/crisis weren’t far behind. Becca was always on the verge of “getting her life together,” as she so often said, but real change seemed to end up just out of reach.

Still, Annalee never gave up hope that one day her mother would find the magic answer that would allow her to pluck up the courage to stand on her own two feet instead of being dependent on the opposite sex. Being alone wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a person. Annalee should know. She had expert-level experience in keeping a healthy distance.

This time, Becca was in real trouble and had dragged her daughter down with her. Annalee had disappeared with the evidence that would get her mother’s latest boyfriend locked up for the rest of his lifeifthe justice system worked like it was supposed to. Annalee knew better than to trust the legal system. After all, she’d been moved from foster home to foster home as a young child, but she’d been returned to her mother every time Becca had temporarily cleaned up her act and promised to get a job so she could take care of her daughter.

Taking the evidence and running had been the only way to ensure nothing bad happened to her mother, too.

The picture of Archer, unconscious and tied up, had been enough to bring her back to Saddle Junction to see for herself if he’d been abducted or if the image in the text had been some kind of artificial intelligence trick. It had to be the latter because Archer was fine—a little too damn fine if you asked her. He’d filled out his six-foot-three-inch frame with stacked muscles. An improbable V formed at his waist where slacks hung low on his hips. The term “Adonis” applied to his sculpted physique. The man could be the poster child for any fitness program, except he’d earned every one of those muscles working a ranch instead of on a machine. Thick dark hair cut short with a few curls contrasted with perfectly straight white teeth and clear blue eyes the shade of a spring sky.

Damn.

Archer still caused her heart to batter the inside of her ribcage and her stomach to free fall. What could she say? The man was perfection and probably had a long list of women who could attest to the fact. Or one special lady who’d stuck around, unlike her. Her gaze had almost instantly shifted to his ring finger. Relief she had no right to filled her when there was no sign of a gold band.It didn’t mean he wasn’t married. Not everyone wore a wedding band,she reminded herself.

What mattered most was that he was fine. The picture in the text must have been altered. But why?

To drag you out of hiding and back to Saddle Junction.

She bit back a curse. If that was true, the trick had worked. She’d come to town with the handgun in a bag, tucked at the bottom of her backpack. Fingerprints and a murder weapon were powerful tools for a district attorney. Would her mother be implicated and treated as an accomplice?

This evidence was the only leverage Annalee had to protect her mother. Becca might be many things, but she wasn’t a hardened criminal. In panic mode, her mother had stuffed the gun inside Annalee’s backpack and told her to disappear. And then, Becca had ditched Annalee before she could get any further information about who the current boyfriend was or who he’d killed.

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