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Someone wants her dead... But why?
When Amanda Vanderbilt is attacked at a party, she hides in a cowboy’s horse trailer to elude the masked man suddenly stalking her relentlessly.
Bruce
Palmer is on a mission to pick up horses for his boss across country in
Seattle. A loner, he wants nothing to do with the pretty blonde he
finds stowed away.
But like it or not, he’s been lassoed into the mess, and it’s now his duty to protect her.
Who is the masked man and why is he chasing them in a semi?
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EXCERPT
Copyright 2015 © Georgina Sellwood
Run! Get away!
The
man’s hands bit into Amanda Vanderbilt’s upper arms as she struggled
and spat at his face, to no avail. The man wore a ski mask, but the
opening around his eyes let her see the shape and color of them and
how his thick, black eyebrows met above the bridge of his nose.
“Shut up and come with me,” her attacker growled. Her face stung where he’d hit her.
At
the back of the garden, no one at the party would hear her. To scream
was useless. Tears of frustration ran down her face as dance music
floated on the wind.
“Let
me go,” she yelled in desperation. What else could she do? She’d tried
all the defensive moves she knew—kicking, biting, spitting, and there
was only one thing left. She would have to hurt him.
She
lifted her knee high and hard. The man fell like a stone, groaning and
holding himself. Her blouse ripped as he grabbed at her on his way down.
“I’ll find you, Amanda. You can’t hide. I know where you and the doctor lived and I know you are living with your mother now,” he yelled.
The
light from a street lamp shone through a gap in the hedge. She dove and
crawled through the hole on hands and knees. Branches scraped her arms
as dew from the grass ruined her clothes. She hobbled out of the hedge
and struggled to cross the dark lawn on her broken shoe.
Was he coming? The hedge shook behind her. She gained her balance and hobbled on.
When
she made it to the sidewalk, the broken heel of her Italian sandal
clattered on the pavement. Her hand trembled when she raised her arm as
she hailed an approaching New York cab. Thank heavens, it’d just pulled out of a driveway two doors away.
Footsteps pounded the ground behind her.
When
the car stopped, she dove into the sanctuary of the backseat, holding
the ripped pieces of her yellow silk blouse together. “Go,” she
screamed, slamming the door and locking it.
Her
breath came in ragged gasps while her head spun. The scent of citrus
cologne lingered in the enclosed space, making her want to gag.
She met the cabbie’s wide-eyed stare in the rearview mirror. “Are you all right, lady?”
All right? Far from it. Who
was that man who’d attacked her at the party? Kneeing him had given her
the seconds she’d needed to get away. Her heart thudded against her
ribs, and terror still gnawed at her nerves.
A week ago, she’d received the party invitation from a friend.
“Who’s that from?” her mother had asked, nodding at the scented, pink paper Amanda held in her right hand.
“Karin Rockefeller.”
“Well,
surely you’re not going to refuse another one. You have to stop sitting
around here moping and start getting out again. Brad was killed two
years ago, and it’s time you get over it.”
Pain
had stabbed Amanda’s heart after her mother’s insensitive remark.
Depression had descended like a shroud, enveloping her. Didn’t her
mother realize how much it hurt to lose her husband and move into her
parent’s house with her three-year-old toddler, Monica? She had felt
like a dog coming back with its tail between its legs. Did anyone her
age return home to their mother?
She’d been in a fog of pain for—was it really two years?
She
knew she had to make the effort. Get out and be active again. Karin’s
party would be a good place to start. She wouldn’t know too many people
there, and she wouldn’t have to put up with the gazes full of pity that
she hated so much.
“You’re right, Mother. I’ll e-mail her today and accept.”
“Good. We’ll leave Monica with Consuela and I’ll take you to Fifth Avenue to shop after lunch.”
They’d found the perfect outfit, a yellow silk blouse and a matching skirt with a ruffle at the hem.
The
party happened to fall on the staff’s day off and Mother was at an Arts
Culture meeting, so she’d left Monica with a new babysitter. Monica had
clung to her hand when Amanda dropped her off. For the last two years,
she’d been by Amanda’s side almost constantly. Amanda had to pretend she
didn’t see the tears gathering in her sweet baby’s eyes as she closed
the door and walked to the waiting cab.
The driver sent another concerned glance over his shoulder, bringing her back to the present. “Lady, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
The quiver in her voice made her sound far from convincing. “Go. Just
go.” She swallowed, tamping back the tears that stung her throat and
intensified, threatening to overwhelm her. As she bit her lip, fear beat
in her chest and wouldn’t be controlled as easily as her urge to cry.
She looked back. A shadowy figure broke through the hedge.
The
gearshift clunked as they pulled away from the curb into the overcast
night. The man, still bent over and holding himself, staggered after
them. He chased the car a few steps, then stumbled and fell.
“Where to, miss?”
Where should she go? Certainly not home. The attacker knew where she lived. His last words haunted her. I’ll find you, Amanda. You can’t hide. I know where you and thedoctor lived, and I know you are living with your mother now.
Who wanted to hurt her? Obviously it had to be someone who knew her if he knew her address.
Her
stomach rolled—she was going to be sick. She clutched at her chest and
tried buttoning her blouse. It didn’t help, it was ruined. Ripped and
stained. Anyone who saw her would know there’d been a struggle.
The cabbie’s hard gaze met hers in the rear view mirror. “Miss, I need an address. Where do you want to go?”
What
should she do? Where could she go? Anywhere but to the police. When her
husband had died, they’d put her at the top of the list of suspects,
grilling her for months until her nerves nearly shattered. They still
hadn’t found his killer, and if she brought this attack to their
attention, they might resume interrogating her. As far as she knew, no
one at the party had seen it happen, and the police were unlikely to put
out an all-points bulletin for an unknown man wearing a ski mask.
She
let out a frustrated sigh, trying to clear her confusion. She wouldn’t
impose on her friends and relatives. What if she put them in danger? She
couldn’t go home or stay in town. The attacker might be anyone, and he
was coming after her. She clasped her hands to control their trembling.
She wanted her toddler, Monica, with her, but that would be selfish and
dangerous.
Amanda
hadn’t been at the Rockefellers’ party long when a man had bumped into
her. He’d bent to pick up her clutch and apologized for knocking it out
of her hand. When he’d handed it back, his dark, empty eyes had set
alarm bells ringing, but she’d ignored them.
She
had thought her friends would be interested in reconnecting with her
after her extended absence, but when she walked to the edge of several
groups, they’d ignored her and kept talking amongst themselves. They had
seemed indifferent to her wanting to reintegrate. It hurt. Maybe she
had been out of their circle too long, or they were just too
self-centered and spoiled to notice her.
The
realization had hit her hard. She’d needed to get away before someone
noticed the tears that were gathering and close to spilling. She walked
to the end of the garden where she knew there was a three-person swing
with a bench seat.
It’d
turned out to be a bad decision, because that’s when the masked man had
pulled her into the bushes. Thank goodness, she’d thought to use her
knee.
She needed to get away to safety so she could make a plan.
“Do you want me to just drive around, or are you gonna give me an address?"
What
about Monica, her little three-year-old angel? Much as she would have
loved Monica to be with her, it was better to leave her where she was
safe. No one would think of her being with her friend, Kate’s,
babysitter. Monica had never stayed with Barb before. Not even Amanda’s
mom would know to search for her there. Kate let Barb watch her children
all the time, so she must be loving and reliable.
“Okay. Take me…umm, to the hotel on the highway,” she murmured, tasting the salt of her tears.
“It’s a bad time of night to be goin’ there and it’s gonna take a while.”
Amanda
brushed at her expensive clothes, trying but unable to remove the dirt
and grass stains. “Yes, but I have to get out of here. Will you drive me
somewhere out of town?”
“Lady, it’s almost midnight. My shift is over soon. I can’t.”
Fresh
tears stung the back of her eyes. An impossible situation. “Then,
please…drop me at the nearest hotel out on the interstate.”
“Okay, miss, but that’ll cost you. I hope you know what you’re doin’.”
To
pay the cabbie, Amanda peeled off a couple of bills from the meager
cash in her diamond-studded clutch purse. She’d only taken
enough money to get home.
“Stay safe. Don’t do nothin’ stupid.” The cabbie shook his head one last time before driving away.
Stay safe. It wouldn’t be easy. Gravel
pelted her legs as he gunned the engine and sent the yellow cab
streaking out of the lot and down the highway, leaving her alone in the
hotel’s parking lot.
Opening her wallet again, she counted the bills. Not enough for the hotel. What was she going to do?
The
sound of rumbling engines caused her to turn. Fear hitched her breath
as she faced a multitude of parked tankers and semis. They appeared
monstrous in the tinted lights of the truck stop next door. The echo of
their engines and the stench of diesel brought to mind the scary,
shape-shifting toys from her childhood.
Through
the window, she saw two truckers sitting at the counter in the café.
She shivered in the cold. Though tempted to order something hot to
drink, she decided against it, not wanting to face their reactions to
her torn and soiled clothes. Glancing in the direction of town, Amanda
wondered if the masked man had recovered enough to hunt for her.
Would he look here? No, of course not, but she needed to find a safe way out of the area.
A
truck with a horse trailer stood at the card-lock gas pump at the edge
of the lot next to the hotel. She hobbled toward it on her broken
sandal. She loved horses. Dreamed of living outside the city and having
one of her own to ride someday. She thought if she could just pet one…
When she drew near, she saw there were no horses inside. Disappointment saddenedher.
A
hunky cowboy with tanned skin and a handsome face started washing the
windshield of the truck. She ducked along the far side of the trailer
where he wouldn’t notice her.
Darkness
shrouded this side of the animal carrier. She slipped along beside the
horse stalls. This one—the type owners took to competitions, staying in
them while they showed their horses—had living quarters at the front.
Unable
to stop her body shaking and teeth chattering, she looked to the RV
part of the trailer as a warm place, out of the chilly night air. She
tried the handle and it clicked open. A wave of relief washed over her.
Just
then, the cowboy, his black Stetson slung low shadowing his eyes,
sauntered to her side of the truck to finish washing the window. Amanda
tore the door open wider and dove inside.
It
was hard to see in the dim light. Her left hand rested on a
three-burner stove. She had grabbed the corner of it to hoist herself
inside. The dark space on the counter next to it was probably a sink.
Across from her, a sofa sat along the far wall.
Footsteps
shuffled in the dirt along the side of the truck. He was coming her
way. In a panic, she scrambled up into the double bed on her right, at
the front of the trailer.
Her
breath came in ragged gasps as boots scuffed the concrete outside. She
burrowed into the untidy mess of covers on the bunk, to hide if the
cowboy entered. The scent of the man clung to the sheets, and she tried
to regulate her breathing.
He
stopped a moment then continued. Kicking the tires on his way by, he
made a circuit of the truck and trailer. She took a second to catch her
breath.
The truck rumbled to life and she grabbed at the sheets for support. Should she jump out or stay?
While
she debated, they bumped onto the highway. They moved far too fast for
her to escape. Wherever this handsome man was going, she was going, too.
She hoped she hadn’t put herself in more danger by stowing away in this cowboy’s trailer.
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