Showdown!

If this woman really was his long-lost cousin, Uncle Nick would be in high alt, as the old man liked to say.

But what if she wasn’t? What if she was playing some game with them, hoping to cash in somehow? Huh, she’d refused the money he’d offered, so what could she want? And he’d been doing all the pursuing, so it was unlikely she’d planned it all. And let’s face it, con artists weren’t likely to target Idaho ranchers or deputy sheriffs!

He weighed the evidence. She had the scar, her parents were gone, her birth certificate was questionable, so there was the possibility that she was legitimate. For Uncle Nick’s sake, he had to take that chance.

At five-thirty on Sunday morning, Honey left all her worldly possessions, which were crammed into two suitcases and one duffel, behind the supervisor’s desk in the office that adjoined the employee lounge. No one was in at the moment, since it wasn’t time for a shift change.

She didn’t want any of her co-workers to spot her, dressed as she was in baggy pants, a tank top and a long-sleeved shirt, her hair hidden under a baseball cap with a skimpy dark-haired fake ponytail attached. She thought she looked enough like a boy to pass a casual glance, but she wasn’t sure about a direct perusal from those who knew her.

Keeping her head low, she left the lounge and hurried to the elevators. At Zack’s room, she slipped a note under the door.

It opened at once. “What is it?” he asked.

Startled, she could only stare up at him for a second, then she ducked her head. “I was told to deliver a message to this room, sir,” she said in a deeper tone than her normal one. She gestured toward the letter.

“Wait,” he ordered.

She froze in place.

He picked the letter up, tore open the envelope and read it, a suspicious frown on his face. Finished, he handed her two casino tokens worth a dollar each.

“No reply,” he said, and closed the door.

She let her breath out slowly, then returned to the elevator. After leaving her employee badge and a note telling her supervisor she had to leave town due to a family emergency, she carried her luggage to the service door.

Zack appeared right on time. “Where is she?” he asked.

“I’m to take you to her,” Honey told him. She pulled her baseball cap a little lower when he tilted his head and tried to study her face.

“Uh, this is her luggage,” she added.

He nodded, hoisted the duffel and left her to deal with the two bags. She followed at his heels, taking longer steps in an insouciant and masculine—she hoped—manner.

They stored the bags in the back of a black SUV. She climbed in the passenger side, fastened her seat belt and slipped on sunglasses. She noted the protective bullet-proof glass and chain-link-type divider between the front and back seats. For a second she wondered if he would order her into the rear of the vehicle, where prisoners rode.

The deputy got in, started the engine, then eased into the sparse traffic along the strip.

Honey breathed a sigh of relief. Surely no one would expect her to leave Vegas in a vehicle emblazoned with the badge of a sheriff’s department on its sides.

“Okay, where is she?” Zack demanded.

“Here,” she said. She removed the sunglasses.

Zack stopped at the red light and turned to his passenger. The youngster he’d taken for a boy gave him a defiant grin.

The silvery-blue eyes met his. The lashes and eyebrows were golden brown. A tiny mole dotted the corner of her mouth, which was totally bare of makeup, as was the rest of her face. She looked fresh and young and entirely foreign to the waitress from the casino.

“What’s going on?” he asked, feeling he’d been set up.

“Nothing,” she said innocently.

Too innocently. He knew a scam when he saw one. “That getup is certainly different from your usual.”

“I had to wear the casino costume. It was part of the job. Now I can dress in my own clothes.”

The light turned and he drove on. “Those are your usual clothes? Tell me another one before that one gets cold.”

Fury washed over him, but he wasn’t usually a hot-tempered person. An effective cop had to consider the facts from a cool distance. He reached a logical conclusion.

They were on the highway now. The Sunday-morning traffic was heavier as people went to work in the resort town. He pulled off the road onto the shoulder just before an exit ramp and stopped. With the engine idling, he said, “What are you running away from?”

He had to give her credit for control. Her clasped hands tightened slightly, but that was her only reaction.

“I’m not,” she said.

“Okay. Who are you running from?”

“No one.”

“Either tell me, or I’ll put you out right here and you can walk back to the casino.”

The hands tightened again, then relaxed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We made a deal—the rest of the month at your uncle’s ranch. That’s what you said.”

He locked eyes with her. If it hadn’t been for that ever-so-slight tremor in the luscious mouth, he would have called off the whole thing. However, he felt a warning was called for. “If you try to bring any harm to my family, I’ll ship you out so fast your head will spin.”

“How could I do that? I don’t even know them.” She glared at him. “If you’ve changed your mind, the least you can do is take me back to my apartment before my landlady finds the note telling her I’m gone.”

“You don’t plan on coming back here?”

“It’s a big world. I’ve only seen California and Nevada so far…and maybe Idaho if what you say is true.”

This hard-edged, fresh-faced person was certainly at odds with the heavily made-up waitress who’d been concerned about him last night. More contradictions.

He put the police SUV in gear and headed north once more. Home was a sixteen-hour journey away. He planned to make it before midnight.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Honey mocked her morbid thoughts as the miles peeled away under the tires. Other drivers, upon realizing the SUV was a sheriff’s vehicle, slowed noticeably. It was evident they weren’t sure of the authority of an out-of-state cop, but they weren’t going to take any chances.

At midmorning they stopped for gas and picked up coffee and rolls at a fast-food drive-through. She watched the passing scenery, fascinated with the desert and colorful mountains.

When she asked about their travel plans, he told her they would follow Highway 93 to Twin Falls, pick up I-84 until they reached Boise, switch to state roads 55 and 95, then the county roads, which would take them to the ranch. He handed her a map from the door pocket.

Curious, she asked questions about the remote ranch. He answered each of them, painting an idealistic picture of his life with a stern but loving uncle and cousins galore. By the time she ran out of questions and his replies were growing shorter, she was filled with an envy that fueled the loneliness she felt as she traveled with the handsome deputy into the unknown.

For the rest of the day, she traced their route on the map as they drove north. They pulled into truck stops for gas and meals, first lunch, then dinner. As time passed, she couldn’t help but feel she was on some grand adventure that would take her to…where?

Glancing at her companion, a tremor rippled through her like the warning quiver of an earthquake ready to roar up from the bowels of the earth. His perusal said he didn’t quite trust her. She didn’t blame him.