"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
She took one sniffling, shuddering breath. Cord wanted her to walk. Where to?
He leaned to the side to look out the window and then got out of the line of sight. "He's still sitting out there. The sheriff's on his way, but it's going to be a few minutes."
She knew what kind of damage Toby could do in minutes.
Cord took her hand. Whistled for the dog, who came padding to him. "Come upstairs with me."
Upstairs was farther from the back door, farther than her truck. It would be harder to escape from up there.
Where could she run if Toby'd found her here on the No Name?
Cord didn't wait for her swirling thoughts to stop. He tugged her hand until she fell in step with him. Hound Dog's nails clicked on the floor as he followed up the stairs.
The familiar hallway was shadowed, and menace slipped over her like a suffocating blanket.
She needed... She needed…
Cord dragged her into his room.
He let go of her hand and pulled the curtains to cover the window, but not before she'd glimpsed Toby's car at the road.
"Sit down, if you want." Cord threw the words over his shoulder, already moving to the closet.
His bed was meticulous, the covers tucked in with military precision.
Her brain kept getting snagged on superfluous details.
She didn't want to sit on the bed. She wanted to hide. To run.
Cord reached into the back corner of the closet. And pulled out a rifle. Quickly, he reached one hand up to the top shelf. A box of shells rattled as he reached inside.
He shot a glance over his shoulder at her. "You okay?"
"I'm scared."
"I'm scared."
The tremble in Molly's voice made Cord want to pull her close. He'd felt the full body shakes, and even now she was so pale that he was afraid she was going to pass out. The dog had moved to lie in the corner at Cord's terse command.
He forced himself to focus on his task. Bullets cool against his fingers as he loaded them into the magazine. Mackie had kept it for varmints like coyotes or cougars that might threaten the cattle. He'd never before considered pointing the weapon at another human being.
No one was going to get to Molly.
He loaded one into the chamber with a flick of the wrist and held the rifle loosely by the stock as he moved next to the window. He was careful to keep the rifle pointed at the floor.
He brushed the curtain aside just a fraction. He didn't want to give away their location in case Molly's stalker had a high powered weapon.
"He's gone," he said.
The red Mustang was nowhere in sight. Cord pushed aside the curtain to make sure the car hadn't come up the drive. Surely he would've heard the engine approaching.
The car had disappeared.
He looked back to Molly. She was swaying back and forth, her eyes unfocused.
He unchambered the bullet and put the safety on, then leaned the weapon against the wall in the corner. When he turned to the room, Molly was gone.
"Mol?"
He strode into the hall just as she disappeared into West's bedroom.
He stepped into the doorway and watched her pull her duffel bag from the bottom drawer. She opened it on the bed and returned to the chest of drawers, where she pulled out a small stack of T-shirts.
"Mol, what're you doing?"
"I can't—I can't stay here. I know I promised about the tractors, but—"
"Forget about the tractors for a second."
She shook her head, frantic. "He found me. I have to go."
Cord stepped into her room, blocked her when she tried to return to the dresser. Her eyes were wild as she looked up at him. She was panting.
She reminded him of a wild critter, trapped and about to bite.
He wanted to rip Toby's throat out.
"The sheriff's on his way," he reminded her gently. "Nothing's going to happen to you."
You can't run. His entire body wanted to revolt at the thought of her leaving, unprotected. She belonged here, with him.
She shook her head, that wildness in her eyes increasing. "He said… he said…"
She was still shaking so badly that the words wouldn't come.
He folded her in his arms. He'd held her passionately in the kitchen earlier. Now, somehow, she felt slighter, as if a stiff wind could blow her down.
He let one hand come up behind her head and held her close.
"He said he'd kill m-my roommate. Or any g-guy I tried to date. W-we're not dating, but you h-hugged me. And he saw."
Oh, Molly.
"He's gone," he whispered into her hair. "He left. We'll let the sheriff pick him up."
Cord had no intention of letting that creep close enough to hurt Molly. He wasn't worried for himself. He could take care of himself. In his experience, bullies were bluffing.
"The sheriff'll take care of this."
But twenty-two minutes later, he was doubting his statement.
Because it had taken that long for the lawman to show up. And he offered no apology as he took Molly's statement from where she sat on the couch.
She looked so small, tucked in on herself.
One deputy had walked out to the road, and Cord could see him using his boot to scrape the ground. What was he looking for? Tire tracks?
"I didn't see a gun," Molly said to the officer's line of questioning.
"Doesn't mean he wasn't packing," Cord muttered.
The sheriff shot him a quelling look. He scratched something on a small notepad before stuffing it in one of the pockets of his vest.
"I'm real sorry, miss, but there's not a lot we can do."
Cord stopped watching the deputy out by the road and whirled to the room. "What're you talking about? She's got a protective order against this guy."
The sheriff was stone-faced. "It looks like he didn't break the order. From here to the road is what... four or five hundred yards?"
"You've got to be kidding me!" Cord burst
