After and eleven year absence Janna Kincaid inherits a ranch and is forced to return to a town she only remembers with unhappiness, a man to whom she was briefly married and never wants to see again, and someone is trying to kill her.

 

Kye Hawkins has loved Janna since he first met her. They were married but a few weeks later she ran away, without an explanation. He still hasn’t figured out why. Now she’s coming back. Does she still love him? Can he rekindle the romance and also prevent her from being killed.

 

Janna doesn’t want Kye’s help in anyway, yet he always seems to be there when she’s in trouble. Can they work together to find a killer, save the Native burial ground and home of the spirits, and find romance again?

Kye filled the doorway, standing there looking regal and completely self confident. Tall and good looking, eyes that could always see right through her and that shy smile she’d felt was reserved mostly for her. She’d fallen in love with him soon after they’d met. She’d been about five at the time. He was smart, and there was something about him, an unfathomable depth, like he’d been here for many centuries. She remembered thinking at the time, I’m going to marry him when I grow up.

She felt that same pull, even after all these years.

No, I’m not going back there. Yes, I’d married him, like I’d said, but it hadn’t worked the first time. No way would she open herself to that pain again.

“Is there anyone else living here?” Janna asked.

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“For one thing, the house isn’t covered in dust and cobwebs. For another, I thought I saw a shadow heading upstairs.”

“You saw someone upstairs?”

“It was probably my imagination.”

“We don’t want to take any chances. I’ll check upstairs.”

“No, its okay. I can do it later.”

“I’m checking it now.” Kye strode by her, brushing her arm as he past. He climbed the stairs two at a time.

At his touch, the electric current sent synapses through her body, which responded, but her mind said ‘same old Kye, always taking charge.’

She headed toward the kitchen and found a kettle. By the time he came back down, she had her emotions under control and bit her tongue to refrain from commenting on taking orders from him.

“There’s no one up there, and no sign of anyone. There was an open window upstairs. I don’t remember leaving it open when I was here. Anyway, I closed it and locked it.”

“Thanks for checking. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. As for the house, Duke’s been gone for several weeks. The place was tossed when he was killed. No one’s been out here since. When I heard you were coming back, I came out and straightened up a bit. I didn’t want you to see what a mess they’d left.”

“Who left the mess?”

“They said it was an intruder, the one who shot Duke.”

“But you don’t believe it?”

“I think someone killed Duke and then tossed the place looking for something, probably his Will.”

“You think someone killed him because of the ranch?”

Kye nodded.

Janna met his eyes and saw real concern there. He knew how she would have felt if she’d walked into the mess. She wondered where Duke’s body had been found.

“Here, in the kitchen, by the stove. He was shot three times in the chest.”

It was like he’d read her mind.

 

Hawkins Ranch Series: Book 1

 

 

Hawkins Ranch Series: Book 2

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Cody felt like he’d been sucker punched.

Clutching his Stetson in front of him he glanced from Maggie to the bathroom. “What the hell are you talking about?”

This dark haired boy with intense blue eyes, a missing front tooth and an infectious grin looked like a nice enough kid, but… “You want me to what?”

Maggie lowered her voice. “Shh, not so loud, I need you to take Matt back to the ranch and keep him safe.”

“Have you lost your mind? Why would you want me to do that?”

“Because I need someone I trust to keep him safe. If Matt stays with me, he’s in danger and could be killed.”

“You don’t just send your kid away with a stranger.”

“Sometimes you do, but you’re not a stranger. You protected me growing up. I just need you to protect him, now. I’m sure my parents will help look after him.”

“Protect him from what?”

“Here, Mommy.” Matt handed her a glass. The water sloshed onto Maggie’s shoes and the carpet.

“Thank you, honey.” She took the glass and gave him a squeeze. “Why don’t you turn the TV on? You can watch cartoons for a few minutes.”

“Yippee.” He raced across the room to the bed, bouncing onto it.

Cody stared at her as she watched Matt grab the remote and turn on the TV. When the TV screen came into focus, Matt flopped down on his stomach and clicked until he found a cartoon channel. His chin on his hands, he stared intently on the program.

“Okay, Maggie, give. What the hell is this all about?” Cody lowered his voice.

She sipped the water. “Can I get you a drink? There’s a mini bar.”

“Beer, please.”

Placing her glass on the dresser, she bent down and opened the door, exposing her well-formed butt.

He jammed his hands into his jean pockets to keep from placing them on her provocative posterior. She was driving him crazy with her sexy body and her refusal to explain why she wanted him to take her son back to the ranch. Protect him from what?

“Have a seat.” She indicated one of the antique chairs with arms and she handed him the beer.

He continued to stand, downed half the can in one swallow and wiped his mouth.

God, she looked terrific. When he’d finally noticed her in her late teens, she’d always looked exactly like a woman should look; great smile, slim figure with nice breasts and butt, and long sexy legs. She’d gained a few pounds in all the right places, which only made her sexier. Her jeans emphasized her adorable bottom, and the low-cut t-shirt showed off the tops of well-rounded breasts. She looked more sensuous and desirable with clothes on than that last time he’d seen her lying naked on his bed with all that red hair fanned out on his pillow.

And she wanted him to take her kid. What part of this wasn’t he getting?

“So spill it. Why do you want me to take your son back to the ranch?”

“You want the long version or the short one.” She sat. The sunlight that shafted through the window made the highlights in her hair light up like fire.

“Don’t be cute. Just cut to the bottom line.”

“Someone is trying to kill me. I don’t want Matt to get hurt, or maybe killed, because he’s with me.”

Cody felt like he’d been thrown by a horse and then stomped on. In the last few minutes, this woman had sent him reeling in all directions. He had no idea what she was talking about.

Killers were after her and Matt?

Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.
 
Mac is has been responsible for training women in special ops techniques so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.
 
Sara graduates and now she and her team have to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?

 

 

“Ohmigawd,” Diane groaned. “I had no idea you guys were all nuts. You see people’s past, see ghosts and talk to ghosts. This is all a big hoax. I didn’t realize I signed on with a bunch of nut cases. Let me out of here.”

“Diane, please sit down. It may be difficult for you, but please respect your teammates.”

Diane slouched back in her chair.

“So you can hear the ghosts talk?” Mr. Mogee asked.

“Like I said, sometimes. I don’t hear anything right now.”

“You’ll need to work on being more open and receptive so the ghosts can find you easier. How often do you see them?”

“It depends. I didn’t used to see them at all. Then occasionally, maybe every few months or more one would come up to me. I see them more often now.”

“Ah, it means your gift is becoming stronger. Do you sense anything, like Sara?”

“Nope, suddenly they’re there, in a room or on the street. They come up to me and usually ask me to help them get a message to a friend or family member.”

“That’s good. Stay open and continue to help them. The more you help them the stronger you will become. Now Diane, let’s see what talent you have.”

“I don’t have any stupid talents and seeing ghosts or reading palms isn’t a talent. It’s a damn freak show.”

“Nothing?”

“No,” Diane snapped.

“Ah, what are you feeling right now?’

“What do you mean? Diane glared at him.

Mr. Mogee smiled. “In your gut, what are you feeling right now?”

Diane stared at him. “Nothing.”

“Diane?”

Diane crossed her arms over her chest, sank her chin down and glared at the man. “Something’s upsetting Sara. She’s afraid for someone.”

“Good, very good Diane. Sara?”

Diane continued to glare at the man. “Big deal, it’s a gut reaction,” she mumbled. “Anybody can tell when a person’s worried. Read their damn body language.”

Sara stared at Diane. She wanted to deny it, but if they were a team, honesty was important. “You’re right, Diane. I’m worried about my daughter. I’m afraid she might be in danger.”

“Thank you, Sara. You see Diane, you sense what people are feeling or seeing. We’ll work on it so you understand it better. What about the other thing?”

“What other thing?” Diane shot him an angry look.

“I understand you’re a witch.”

“Aw, shit.” Diane tried to slide farther down in her chair.

“You’re a witch? I mean a real honest to gosh witch?” Sara stared at her.

“Okay, I’m a witch. I can cast spells, big friggin’ deal.”

Mr. Mogee smiled. “Yes, Diane, it is a big deal. It could come in very helpful for your friends. Maybe you can explain to them how it works over dinner tonight. You know how you don’t wear the hat and use a broomstick?”

“Okay, I get it. I don’t understand any of this, but I’ll try and explain how spells work and that there really are witches out there.”

“Good and don’t forget to get in touch with your gut as well. We’ll work on that. Diane comes from a long line of witches. You might get her to talk about her family. Okay ladies, your assignment is to work on your talents by taking these items. See if you get any message or information from them. Share them, pass them around. Do you have any questions?” Mr. Mogee handed each woman an item.

They glanced at what they had received.

“This looks like a man’s glove.” Sara looked up.

Mr. Mogee had disappeared.

“We’ll figure it out.” Maggie stared around the room.

“Sometimes you can use a spell. It causes people to see, or not see, what is really there. I’ll check it out.” Diane offered.

 

 

 

Sara’s emotionally abusive husband dies unexpectedly. She’s struggling to reclaim the intelligent, independent person she was before she married. She vows never to let a man take over her life again. Now she’s part of a special team, training to help other women.
 
Mac is has been responsible for training women in special ops techniques so they are prepared when they are challenged to save other women. When he meets Sara sparks fly between them. He wants her to quit the training and let him take care of her.
 
Sara graduates and now she and her team have to save Sara’s daughter from a serial killer. Can Mac step back and trust her in a dangerous situation? Can Sara and Mac resolve their issues, or will they go in opposite directions?

 

 

The four shadowy forms in black crouched low, inching closer to the Shiraz prison wall. Darkness blurred the outline of the prison and its towers. Dense clouds blocked any shard of moonlight from slipping through the ebony night, providing cover for the four. The fall rain had stopped.

The corner search lights swung slowly in a circle, cutting through the darkness. The first form held up a hand. The rest flattened onto the dry terrain. The lights swung back across the area. The total rotation took three minutes.

Two uniformed guards marched past. They followed the perimeter toward the far corner of the tower.

Several seconds after the guards past, the shadows raced toward the main road. Two dived to the ground by the side of the road. The other two raced across the road and disappeared into the bushes against the outer prison wall. They slumped down onto the Iranian soil.

After a quick survey of the area, Fareeda, the taller, sturdier figure, stood up. She checked her shoes and adjusted her harness before shooting a light-weight hook, specifically designed by The Foundation, to the top of the wall.

A thud echoed through the silence when it landed. Both women held their breath. There was no response from inside. They exhaled slowly.

Fareeda grabbed the rope attached to the hook and began her climb up the stone surface.

At the call of a heron from the other side of the road, Fareeda paused and flattened herself against the structure. Below her Assif dropped face first to the ground.

Two more guards advanced. They continued past on another trip around the perimeter and disappeared around the corner.

Seconds later Fareeda resumed her upward climb. She stopped briefly when the lights swept past. Three more minutes and it would be back again. She scrambled the last few feet to a small ledge where she swung a second large, grappling hook over the barbed wire. The hook locked onto the edge of the wall. The prisoner could slide down, once Assif rescued her from her cell.

Fareeda grabbed the ropes, swung out from the wall and rappelled down quickly. At the bottom, the shorter, smaller framed person grabbed the rope.

“Your turn, Assif. Be careful,” Fareeda whispered into her headphone. “There are more guards on they said, and the search lights are shorter than reported. Our information isn’t

accurate. If she’s not in the cell, rappel down quickly. We can come back later if we have to. We don’t want to get caught in this country.”

Fareeda watched Assif grab both ropes and began her upward scale of the wall. She paused at a small window fifty feet above and peered through the bars.

Another heron cry broke the night.

Four guards marched into the escape area. Searchlights flashed on, focusing on the area.

“Assif, abandon the project! Get down here now!” Fareeda whispered into her headset.

A man’s voice shouted in Arabic. They ran toward Fareeda.

Assif rappelled down in two or three long jumps. She started to run as soon as her feet hit the ground. Over her shoulder Fareeda saw two guards grab Assif. They hit her over the head. Her last view was Assif being pulled toward the prison gate.

Shots rang out.

“Shoot them!” She yelled as she raced toward the road. “Shoot them!”

The two women on the far side of the road responded with their own fire. Flashes of light from their weapons shot through the darkness. Fareeda heard the bullets whiz by as she raced across the road toward her companions.

At the next volley of shots she felt a burning pain in her leg. She grabbed her leg and collapsed to the ground. Warm fluid seeped through her fingers. She crawled across the road, dragging her leg.

“Here! Over here!” Sabhita and Marley, her teammates stood up and grabbed her. With Fareeda supported between them they raced into the darkness.

Behind them more voices shouted in Arabic. Bursts of light from their guns briefly illuminated the night.

“They got Assif when she hit the ground. We can’t help her. We’ll do her more good if we escape. Fareeda, can you make it?” Sabhita whispered. They pulled her forward.

Sweat dripped down her back. Her pants stuck to her leg. Fareeda nodded. Nausea swept over her. “I’ll need help.”

“No problem. We’ve got you.” With one woman on each side of her, they hauled her into the blackness.

Rifles blasted through the air behind them. Men shouted. More search lights flashed on. Crashes grew louder. The guards raced after them.