Montana Refuge
HER RANCHER PROTECTOR
The last person Montana rancher Tyler Hunt expected to see on his ranch was his soon-to-be ex-wife. True, he had yet to sign the divorce papers, but Julie had sworn never to return. One look in her eyes, however, and he knew why she was back. Julie was in desperate need of his help.
She’d left Tyler, fearing the loss of her identity. But that desire for independence had caused her life to be put in jeopardy, and Tyler was the only man she could trust. Yet even as the mystery surrounding her new life brought them back together, a secret from Tyler’s own past was threatening their reunion. Would they ever have the chance to recapture the bond they’d once shared?
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“I’m…I’m in trouble,” she stammered, trembling now from a vast array of emotions too complicated to name. “I…I shouldn’t have involved you. I just…I just didn’t know where else to turn. I’m afraid, Tyler. Someone is trying to kill me and I’m…I’m scared.”
His hands dropped. “Who’s trying to kill you?” he said at last.
“What do you care?” she managed to say.
It took him a long minute to respond, and when he did, his voice sounded almost resigned. “I just do,” he said, reaching out for her again, tugging on her sleeve, pulling her gently against his rock-solid chest.
His hands holding her head, he whispered against her hair. “Heaven help me, Julie, I just do.”
Alice Sharpe
Montana Refuge
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.
Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her c/o Harlequin Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279. An SASE for reply is appreciated.
Books by Alice Sharpe
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
746—FOR THE SAKE OF THEIR BABY
823—UNDERCOVER BABIES
923—MY SISTER, MYSELF*
929—DUPLICATE DAUGHTER*
1022—ROYAL HEIR
1051—AVENGING ANGEL
1076—THE LAWMAN’S SECRET SON**
1082—BODYGUARD FATHER**
1124—MULTIPLES MYSTERY
1166—AGENT DADDY
1190—A BABY BETWEEN THEM
1209—THE BABY’S BODYGUARD
1304—WESTIN’S WYOMING‡
1309—WESTIN LEGACY‡
1315—WESTIN FAMILY TIES‡
1385—UNDERCOVER MEMORIES†
1392—MONTANA REFUGE†
*Dead Ringer
**Skye Brother Babies
‡Open Sky Ranch
†The Legacy
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Tyler Hunt—
Devastated when Julie left him, he’s getting on with his life until the moment she shows up again. She arrives with a story he doesn’t want to hear, asking for things he doesn’t want to give. It isn’t long before he finds the life he made without her is as fragile as a sandcastle at high tide.
Julie Chilton Hunt—
She left Tyler to find herself and landed in a dream job. Things seemed to be going well until she agreed to help a federal agent get the dirt on her boss. Now someone is trying to kill her and she’s forced to seek help from the one person she has no right to ask.
Rose Hunt—
Tyler’s mother and the heart of the Hunt Ranch, this widow is tough as nails—usually. So what’s got her on edge now?
John Smyth—
This likable, helpful guy is a guest on the Hunt Ranch. So why is he always asking questions and why, when deadly things happen, is he usually missing?
James Killigrew—
Julie’s boss fires her in outrage when she admits she was duped. Now he’s apparently looking for her. What are his intentions?
Andy—
This wrangler’s idea of home is a saddle atop his favorite horse. Add a thermos of coffee and now it’s heaven…which he could end up visiting soon if a gunman has anything to say about it.
Nora—
Julie’s friend is convinced Julie has gone off the deep end. Instead of worrying about Julie, perhaps she should watch her own back.
Roger Trill—
What is this lawman’s goal and how many people is he willing to sacrifice to accomplish it?
Meg Petersen—
A real-estate agent tickled pink to visit a genuine ranch. She’s got a pretty good opinion of her skills. Is a murderer going to push them to the limit?
Red Sanders—
This Boston lawyer seems to enjoy the sauce a little too much. Or does he?
Dr. Robert Marquis—
An emergency-room doctor is a handy man to have along on a cattle drive. Chances are good that before this trip is over, he’ll have earned his keep.
This book is dedicated to Lucy Arlene with much love.
Contents
Chapter One
Julie Chilton wiped damp palms against her skirt and took a deep breath. When she spoke, her voice wavered as her vocal cords struggled with the words. “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said.
Her boss, Professor James Killigrew, gestured at the chair on the far side of his glass desk. “You look upset, Julie. Please, sit down.”
He was a tall man with a scholarly look enhanced by glasses and tweed jackets. His high forehead ended in a shock of wild white hair but it was his voice, above all, that commanded attention. Like a fine wine holds nuances of sun, fruit and earth, his voice held intonations of wisdom, confidence and curiosity. No wonder he was so successful at supplementing his political science professor’s salary with speaking engagements or that television news shows sought his on-air commentary.
That’s the part of his life Julie had been hired to manage and she loved her job. Well, she had until two weeks ago....
“I don’t know where to start,” she confessed.
He folded his hands together and smiled encouragement. She would have given practically anything if she could have avoided this moment, but there was no choice.
Stop stalling.
“Two weeks ago a man sat down next to me on the bus during my commute home,” she began. “He showed me some identification and then started talking, his voice so soft I had to strain to hear. It was clear he knew who I was and who I worked for.”
“A bus? How prosaic. And what did he say?”
“He said he was a federal agent heading a special department devoted to investigating racketeering.”
Killigrew’s white eyebrows shot up his forehead. “He what?”
“He showed me identification and everything. Then he told me...well, he said you were under investigation.”
Killigrew’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, sir. And he said because of my part in the business side of your career, I would be vulnerable for prosecution as well. Unless—”
Killigrew flattened his hands on the desktop and leaned forward. “Unless what?”
“Unless I helped him.”
“Helped him what?” he said, his voice as cold as liquid nitrogen.
Julie cringed. “With his investigation. He wanted details about your upcoming trip next month, the one to Seattle. All I was supposed to do was pass along your itinerary and report incoming calls originating from there.”
“And you agreed?” he said, obviously aghast. “You did this?”
Miserable, Julie nodded. “I know everything you do is on the up-and-up, Professor Killigrew,” she explained. “I felt certain the agent would find that out for himself if I cooperated.” She took another deep breath and added, “Okay, honestly, I was afraid your reputation would be destroyed if even a whisper of this got out, so if it could be disproven quietly, that would be best. On the flip side, what if I was wrong, what if you’d done what he said? I’d wind up in jail. And that’s the ugly, selfish truth.”
The next part was the hardest to admit and it required another steadying breath. “This morning, I looked in your private notebook and found a photograph.”
“You looked in my notebook,” he repeated, glancing down at the slender volume sitting beside his computer. He was a little old-school that way, keeping private reminders in written form and taking them with him. But this morning he’d left the book on his desk when he went to teach a class and she’d taken the opportunity to look in it.
Lot of good it had done her. Not only was his handwriting hard to decipher, but he also seemed to use some kind of shorthand code and he doodled. How many rectangles with red and yellow chevrons did one man need to draw? She hadn’t even gotten to July, the month in question, when a photograph had fallen out from between the pages. One glance at that, and she’d stopped dead in her tracks.
Now she slid it out of her pocket and across the desk toward James Killigrew.
The photo was of four men in a sea of many people. They didn’t even look like they were together. One was full face on, one turned to the side, another seemed to be in motion and a fourth had his mouth open as though speaking to someone off camera. One was Killigrew, two were people Julie didn’t recognize and the fourth was the man who had introduced himself to her as Special Agent Roger Trill.
As her boss stared at the photo, Julie continued on. “Trill told me he’d never met you. Obviously, that’s a lie. That photo was taken earlier this year. See, you still had a beard. You shaved it off after Washington, D.C., you know where you spoke to a bunch of people about—”
“I know what I spoke about,” he said coldly.
Julie swallowed. “Yes, of course you do. I called Trill’s office to ask why he’d lied to me and to tell him I wasn’t cooperating anymore and in fact was going to warn you about him, and that’s when I found out the department he claimed to run doesn’t even exist. Sir, he used me to get to you for some unexplained reason.”
“Am I supposed to be grateful for this eleventh-hour spurt of candor?” Killigrew asked as he put the photo back in the book and then folded the book into the inside pocket of his tweed jacket.
“No,” she said softly. “Of course not. I betrayed your trust and for that I’m sincerely sorry. In my defense, it all seemed to make sense at the time, but now I see it doesn’t. I had to tell you so you could protect yourself. I’d give anything if I’d used my head to begin with.”