Free Nighthawk & The Return of Luke McGuire by Justine Davis, Rachel Lee Page A

chest even though she was trying to yank away. “That isn’t what he says.”
    “Well, I don’t believe him! I stopped believing him before I was five. He lies about everything.”
    “Okay. He lies about everything. Did he really kill your mother?”
    This time when she pushed away from him he let her go. With clenched fists she glared up at him. “Do you think I’m lying? The man went to prison for second degree murder! Now he’s out and wants to find me. He’s going to kill me. I know it!”
    “But maybe he’s learned something, Esther. Maybe he really is sorry now.”
    “No. No way.”
    “But why would he want to kill you? It’s been a long time.”
    She shook her head almost wildly, her hair flying. “Not long enough. It’ll never be long enough. It was my testimony that sent him to prison!”

Chapter 4
     
    C raig forgot about his horse and dog tethered to the fence post. He forgot about sheep and ranching and his sister and her kids and all his financial worries. All that mattered was this small, emotionally battered woman and her fear that her own father wanted to kill her.
    He didn’t doubt her. The man was a convicted murderer so it was obvious he was capable of it. And if her testimony had been what put the man away, he might well be harboring a grudge.
    He coaxed Esther back into the kitchen and got her settled at the table. “I’ll put the groceries away while you talk,” he told her. “Just tell me where everything goes.”
    It was nuts, he thought, but it was the only safe thing to do right now because he’d made the mistake of holding her. Now he knew how she felt in his arms—and how very much he wanted to hold her even closer. How very much he wanted to taste her and touch her. His reaction embarrassed him a little because it was so inappropriate. He had thought he’d gotten himself under control a long time ago.
    Her directions about where to put things were mechanical, as if she had withdrawn and only a superficial part of her mind was involved in the task. Guinevere, still hitched to the newel post, whined as if she sensed her mistress’s distress, but Esther didn’t seem to hear her.
    Craig began to feel uneasy. He’d had his share of hard times, but nothing had prepared him to deal with an emotional crisis of this type. There wasn’t a thing he could possibly say to her that would ease her fears. All he knew was he couldn’t leave her alone.
    “I was going to get a gun,” Esther said suddenly.
    Craig turned from putting the last of the food away and waited expectantly.
    “I figured that if I got a gun I could protect myself. Sheriff Tate talked me out of it.”
    That was probably wise, he thought. He didn’t know this woman at all, but somehow he couldn’t imagine her as Annie Oakley.
    She looked at him from hazel eyes that had gone flat and empty. “So how do I protect myself?” she asked him. “Just what am I supposed to do? Wait for him to show up in the middle of the night and strangle me? Or shove me down the stairs the way he used to?”
    “He shoved you down the stairs?”
    She nodded. “Once he even threw me.” She touched her leg. “That’s when my leg got messed up.”
    “The doctors couldn’t do anything?”
    “I didn’t get to them soon enough. He was on a binge and wouldn’t let my mother take me. Or maybe she didn’t want to take me.” She shrugged. “They didn’t have any money, so they probably couldn’t afford it.”
    “And no one investigated? No one tried to take you away from them?”
    She shook her head slowly. “This was over twenty years ago. Twenty-five years ago. Nobody interfered in a family. My parents said I fell down the stairs, and I didn’t dare say otherwise.”
    “My God.”
    “But I remember. I was just four, and he picked me up and threw me as hard as he could.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I was crying about something. I don’t remember what. What I do remember is him saying he wouldn’t have thrown me if I