Whispering Springs. Amanda Stevens
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waited until she was out of sight and then exited the store with a nod to the curious shopkeeper. He moved down the street, keeping to the shady side until he caught a glimpse of her. She was getting into a white SUV with the Whispering Springs logo on the side. Leaning his back against a building, he watched the vehicle pull out of the gas station and onto the road. After the dust cloud settled, he walked back to his own car, following at a discreet distance, although it didn’t much matter if he was spotted. He’d already checked into his room at the ranch, and his client would make certain the others bought his cover.
As he navigated the winding road, he rolled down his window, allowing the scents and sounds of the rugged countryside to settle over him. It had taken a long time after three tours of duty in the Middle East to silence the noise of war in his head. When he first came back, he’d had no plan beyond finding a little peace and quiet. With his undergrad degree and service record, he’d had no shortage of opportunities, but for a while, he’d used the money left to him by his grandmother to hibernate.
For nearly a year, he’d done nothing but camp and hike and read. Then dinner with an army buddy had brought him to Houston and to an informal interview with Ezra Blackthorn, the founder and CEO of the Blackthorn Agency, a global security firm. Dylan had turned down the offer of overseas assignments despite the generous bonus incentives. He’d had his fill of foreign chaos. The domestic side of the agency was more to his liking, in particular surveillance where he could blend into the woodwork.
He’d settled quietly into his new life in Houston. He completed his assignments, kept to himself and that was that. Then one day he’d walked into Ezra Blackthorn’s office and been confronted by his past. Blair Redding had heard about his work at the agency through a friend of a friend. She was in need of protection for her CEO husband who had received a series of threats in the wake of a rumored merger.
Tony Redding had refused to take the threats seriously, but for Blair, a line had been crossed when someone had broken into their home and scribbled a troubling message across the bathroom mirror. She wanted to hire the Blackthorn Agency and Dylan in particular to provide covert protection during their upcoming stay at Whispering Springs.
Dylan had received a list of guests and staff, and he’d noted with relief the absence of Ava’s name. Would he have backed out of the assignment if he’d known she would come? He couldn’t answer that question and it didn’t matter anyway, because he was here now and he had a job to do.
Pulling off the main road, he drove through the arched entrance to the ranch and slowed his vehicle as he took stock of his surroundings. Nestled against a verdant hillside of wildflowers and rushing creeks, Whispering Springs was bordered on one side by a line of rugged live oaks, cedars and Texas pinions and on the other side by a natural barrier of arroyos and canyons carved from the walls of limestone bluffs.
The white SUV was parked on the circular drive when Dylan arrived at the house. He pulled to the rear and grabbed his backpack before heading up into the hills. According to Blair, her husband was due to arrive at the ranch around dinnertime that evening. As far as Tony Redding and the others knew, Dylan was just another invited guest. But instead of mingling or relaxing, he’d spent the last few days getting the lay of the land. He’d explored the ranch house and outbuildings, the walking trails, the creek beds, the ravines and outcroppings—anywhere a perpetrator might hide.
Leaving the trail, he continued to climb until he had a panoramic view of the area. He lifted his binoculars, trailing his gaze along the tree line, peering into the evergreen thicket before zeroing in on the ranch house, a sprawling limestone structure with rough-hewn beams and outside arbors. No one was about. The chairs and gliders placed strategically around the property for sunrise and sunset viewings were all empty and the porches sat forlornly deserted. It would be dinnertime soon. Maybe everyone was inside getting ready for the evening meal.
As he turned to store his gear, something flashed in his peripheral vision. He turned back, scouring the valley with a naked eye before once again lifting his binoculars. He didn’t see anything at first, but he’d long ago learned the value of patience.
After a moment, the flash came again from one of the upstairs windows. He made note of the location even though the glare seemed nothing more than sunlight bouncing off glass. But the longer he lingered, the more convinced he became that someone stood just beyond his line of sight, watching him back through binoculars.
* * *
AVA LEANED AGAINST the balcony rail of her second-floor bedroom and surveyed the breathtaking scenery. The sun was just setting, gilding the jagged ridges that rose beyond the tree line. A breeze ruffled her hair, and she absently tucked back the wayward strands as her gaze lit on a lone hiker making his way toward the ranch. He was still some distance away, too far to make out his features, but his confident gait seemed familiar.
Recognition mingled with unease as Ava stepped back into the shadows. As he drew closer, she could see that he was tall and lean with close-cropped brown hair. She even imagined a slight auburn tinge to his five o’clock shadow. He had on sunglasses, but she knew behind those dark lenses his eyes were a piercing blue.
A memory came to her now of those electric eyes peering down at her intently as she held fast to her determination.
“Please don’t look at me that way. We both know it’s over.”
“It’s not over for me, Ava. I still love you. I still want us to be together. Nothing’s changed.”
“Everything’s changed! When we’re together, all I can think about—”
“Don’t. You’re hurt and confused and you feel guilty. But what happened wasn’t our fault. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why are we still keeping secrets?”
He was crossing the grounds now, and for a moment, Ava had the strongest urge to step out of the shadows and call down to him. I loved you, too, Dylan. I was wrong about us. It doesn’t matter now, of course, but I thought you should know.
She held her ground and in the next instant, he paused as if sensing her scrutiny. His right hand dropped to his side as he turned casually to observe the path behind him. Then he scanned the woods, the canyon and finally the house. His gaze slowly lifted. Ava was certain he couldn’t spot her in the shadows, and yet she could have sworn their eyes connected a split second before he crossed the grounds and entered through one of the side doors.
Her head fell back against the wall as she let out a shaky breath. Crazy to feel so stunned by the mere glimpse of an old boyfriend, but the sight of Dylan Burkhart had caught her completely off guard. He was the last person she’d expected to see here. Ava didn’t really care about the how or the why of his presence at the ranch. Her only concern was her reaction to him.
She took several calming breaths, trying to quiet her racing pulse. This wasn’t her. She was not that woman. She didn’t live in the past or carry torches. She didn’t dwell on what might have been. She’d moved on. Forged ahead. There’d been no one really serious since Dylan, but that had nothing to do with unrequited love and everything to do with ambition. She simply had no time for anything more than a casual relationship. No strings, no commitment, no expectations.
Her reaction meant nothing. She could handle this. Already she felt steadier. Soon she would get dressed and go downstairs for dinner, where she would spend a pleasant evening reminiscing with old friends.
But first, she’d have a long soak and a good stiff drink.
The great room was empty when Ava came downstairs a little while later. She milled about for a bit, studying the William B. Travis portrait over the fireplace and the framed photographs on either side before moving through the French doors to the terrace. The sun had set by this time and the sky over the treetops had deepened to lavender. She could smell mountain laurel on the breeze and a hint of rain in the distance.
The feeling of disquiet that had descended