Texas Holiday Hideout Read online

  He shook his head and cleaned up. “No, we’re not, but we’re going close enough that a Dallas ID won’t stand out as unusual.”

  He cleaned up his clippings and she glanced at another document, this one hidden beneath a notebook with only the corner sticking out. She pulled it out and saw the words Certificate of Marriage with both hers and Miles’s first names but different last names for each of them.

  “What’s this?”

  “We’re going deep undercover. The best way for me to protect you is to be with you twenty-four-seven and the best way to do that is to pretend to be your husband.”

  She nodded. It made sense. Whoever was after her was looking for a single mom and child, not a family. “Okay.”

  He gave her a look of surprise. “You don’t object?”

  It was obvious that he’d expected her to argue, but she was too weary for that. And too determined. At this point, she would do whatever it took to keep her child safe. “Why should I? After what we’ve been through and what I’ve seen, I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect Dylan. If that means pretending to be your wife, then I’ll be your wife. It’s not like you’re asking me to really marry you, right?” She chuckled and looked at him. She saw something flash in his expression before he concealed it.

  “No, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make good husband material.”

  She wondered why he would say that. He seemed like a kind and decent man, and so far, he’d been nothing but protective of them. That may have been his job, but it was the job of anyone who chose to be a marshal—and he’d definitely treated them better than the last three marshals who had been assigned to her case.

  “I guess I’ll have to tell Dylan to start calling you Daddy.” She sighed as she looked at her son. “This entire experience is going to do a number on him, isn’t it? I just hope it doesn’t scar him for life.”

  “Once you get somewhere settled, he won’t even remember this, more than likely.”

  “How could he ever forget something like this? The running, and changing names?”

  “You did—and you were already a few years older than Dylan.”

  She hadn’t even thought of that. The only reason her mother had been able to keep this gigantic secret from her was because Melissa had no memory of it. “I guess I did.”

  “Kids are resilient that way. He’s fortunate to have a mother who loves him so much.” She stared at her son and tears filled her eyes. She wanted so much for him, so much more than a life on the run.

  “Can I ask what happened to his father?”

  “You mean it’s not written down in my file?”

  “No, it is, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

  She pushed away a stray tear that had gotten loose. “His name was Vick. We were high-school sweethearts, married right after graduation. He was driving home from work one evening and was hit by a drunk driver. The police said he died on impact.” She glanced at her son. “Dylan was only four months old. If I hadn’t had my mom there to help me, I don’t know how I would have handled it.” A swell of grief filled her as she thought about her mother and the terrible way she’d died. She wanted her mother with her now to help their family work through this. She reached into her pocket and fingered the chain of her mother’s necklace. It helped soothe her having that tiny bit of her mom with her.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” His words were quiet and kind, and she nodded, thanking him as several more tears slipped from her eyes. “We’ll stick as close to the truth about his death as possible, but if anyone asks about him, try to avoid many details. Just say he died in a car wreck.”

  She understood his reasoning but the details were what made Vick’s death real to her. Miles was taking away Vick’s identity by denying them.

  “I know it’s hard, but the more details you give, the easier it is for someone to be able to look Vick up and figure out his identity—and then connect that back to you.”

  “Why bring him up at all? If we’re going to pretend to be married, why can’t we pretend Dylan is your child?”

  He grimaced then shook his head. “That’s not going to work where we’re going. You’ll understand once we get there.” He stood and picked up his gun holster, clipping it to his belt. “I’m going to do a sweep of the area. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She locked the door behind him, suspecting he was doing this only to give her the space she needed to grieve. She appreciated that gesture.

  She picked up the marriage license with her name on it and stared at it, looking specifically at Miles’s name. She’d only had one marriage license in her life and it had been with Vick. That had been a special bond, a dream of hers since tenth grade. This was a necessity and she hated every minute of it.

  But she was determined to get herself and her son through this experience. And if that meant becoming Mrs. Miles Avery, then so be it.

  * * *

  Miles was quiet as they drove for hours the next day. She wasn’t familiar with the area, so she had no idea where they were going or how much longer it would take to get there, and she knew better than to ask. But she was ready to be out of this car and so was Dylan. He’d gotten whiny and restless as the hours rolled on. Thankfully, a toy from a fast-food restaurant where they’d stopped for an early lunch had calmed him for a bit, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before he was restless once again.

  Eventually, Miles pulled the car to the side of the road and cut the engine. Melissa saw no buildings in sight, only open land and fields for as far as she could see.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  He pulled out the wedding ring he’d purchased from a pawn shop an hour ago and handed it to her. “You should probably put this on.”

  She glanced at it then nodded and slipped the ring onto her finger. “I nearly forgot. We’re supposed to be married.”

  “There’s something else you should know before we arrive. This place where we’re going is my family’s ranch. I know you’ll be safe there. No one has any reason to suspect you’d be here, and if anyone does come for you, my brothers will be there to help me protect you and I trust them with my life.”

  She liked the idea of a ranch, a place where Dylan could get outside and have some fresh air instead of being cooped up inside a motel room. “Okay, but then why the name change? Won’t your family find it strange that you’re using an assumed name?”

  “That’s the other thing. Ackerman is the name I use for witnesses to protect my real identity. Miles Avery is my real name.”

  “I see.” She didn’t know how to process that but she supposed it made sense that even the marshals had false identities.

  “There’s something else. My family knows I work for the marshals service, but they don’t know about the WITSEC part. They think I protect judges and track down fugitives for a living.”

  She sighed and leaned back in her seat. She saw what he was hinting at. “You have a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

  “Secrecy has to be a part of my job. It protects everyone.”

  “So what did you tell your family about me and Dylan?”

  “Nothing yet, but the story will be that I met a woman who had a child and we got married last week.”

  “So you want me to lie to your family?”

  “Telling them the truth would just put them in danger. I’m taking a huge risk by bringing you here, Melissa. I truly believe this is the safest place for both you and Dylan. But my job and my ability to keep you safe depend on secrecy. Can you do that?”

  She didn’t understand how he could keep a secret like that from his family, but that wasn’t her business. She had her own family to think about—her and Dylan. If playing a charade with people she didn’t know was the best option, then that was what she’d do. And after all, wasn’t that what her life would be from now on, anyway? One big charade? Even if she hadn’t real
ized it, wasn’t that what her life had been all along?

  She nodded her agreement and he restarted the car and drove a little bit farther, turning onto a dirt road and through an entrance that read Silver Star Ranch. He steered down the long driveway and stopped the car in front of a white farmhouse with a wraparound porch. She noticed a barn and horses on one side and a garden on the other.

  “Mama, look! Horses!” Dylan shouted with glee, causing both her and Miles to laugh at the excitement in his voice.

  “That’s right, buddy. We’ve got horses,” Miles said. He got out and walked around the car to unbuckle Dylan as Melissa unfastened her seat belt and got out.

  The front door of the house opened and a group of people emerged.

  Miles took her hand then leaned in and whispered to her, “Remember to breathe,” before pulling her toward the crowd.

  She spotted the looks of surprise on their faces and calmed herself by counting. There was an older couple, probably his parents, three men around Miles’s age and two women approximately her age.

  “Hey, Mama. Hey, Daddy.” His parents walked over to greet them. He gave his mother a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, then shook his father’s hand before turning to Melissa. “Melissa, this is my mom and dad, John and Diane Avery.” He pointed at the others on the porch. “These are my brothers, Josh, Paul and Lawson, as well as Lawson’s wife, Bree, and my sister, Kellyanne. I have another brother, Colby, who isn’t here. Everyone, I’d like you all to meet Melissa and her son, Dylan.”

  “How do you do,” she said, addressing them, and they all nodded and returned her greeting.

  He slid his hand into hers and a shiver of electricity snaked up her arm as he pulled her closer to him. “Melissa is...my wife.”

  * * *

  He’d expected an uproar when he dropped his bombshell, but he hadn’t been prepared for the one that occurred. Hurt riddled his family’s eyes as they descended on him.

  “What do you mean wife?” his sister demanded, stomping down the porch steps and toward him until she was right in his face. “You got married? Without inviting any of us? How could you do that, Miles?”

  The rest of the family echoed her comments, making him glad they lived out in the country, where the neighbors couldn’t hear such an uproar. He didn’t like seeing the anger and sadness in their faces, but he reminded himself that this deception was necessary to keep Melissa safe. Still, he could see Melissa was horrified and moved closer to him.

  His father took charge and stepped forward, pulling away Kellyanne. “Stop it, stop it, all of you. You’ll make this young lady believe we’re a family of naysayers.” He reached for Miles’s hand to shake it again. “Congratulations, son.” Then he pulled Melissa into a hug. “Welcome to the family.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  His mother followed suit and gave them each a big hug. “Yes, congratulations. Forgive us for not saying that right away. This is just such a shock. Miles never tells us anything. Getting any information out of him is like getting water from a stone.” She turned to Dylan, who was still in Miles’s arms and looking a little skittish as he clung to Miles’s neck. “And who is this?”

  “This is Dylan. He’s Melissa’s son from her first marriage. Her husband was killed in a car accident two years ago.”

  “Hello, Dylan.” Her eyes lit up at the prospect of having a little one around and Miles hated the deception all over again because he knew they’d have to tell them the truth at some point. His mom would be devastated to learn that he’d deceived her, especially when their cover story gave her a grandson she wouldn’t be able to keep. But she would eventually understand. Besides, this might be her only opportunity to enjoy the pleasure of having a grandchild, at least where he was concerned. His brothers and sister may one day give her all the grandkids she longed for, but he doubted he ever would. His last girlfriend’s words to him reverberated in his mind. He would never have a normal family life with kids and a wife because his life would never be normal. His job required secrets and what kind of a relationship could he ever build with the secrets he hid?

  He carried Dylan inside and could tell the boy was overwhelmed by his family.

  “Why don’t I take Dylan into the kitchen?” his mother suggested. “I just made a fresh batch of chocolate-chip cookies. Would you like one, Dylan?”

  He nodded and took her hand as she led him into the next room. He saw the concern on Melissa’s face at having her son out of her sight, but he pulled her to him, to reassure her. “He’ll be fine. He’s just right there.”

  She nodded and accepted it, but her eyes kept flitting toward the kitchen. He was impressed at how strong she was. She met every challenge better than most of the witnesses he worked with. He’d seen people in a lot less danger fall apart at the thought of change, but she was rising to the occasion impressively.

  “So where did you and Miles meet?” Kellyanne asked, sidling up to Melissa and crooking an arm through hers.

  Thankfully, they’d gone through a cover story, but Miles still listened close to see if she stayed on script.

  “A friend of a friend introduced us. She said Miles was a great guy.” She turned and smiled at him. “Obviously, she was right.”

  After the obligatory get-to-know-you phase with his family, he pulled her aside then went after Dylan, who had already taken a shine to his mom.

  “Josh said we could stay at his cabin. It’s a quarter mile down the road, but we’ll still be on the property.”

  “You’re not staying at the main house?” his mother asked, her voice full of hurt.

  “They need their privacy,” his father stated. “Go ahead, Miles, but be sure to come back here for supper with the family.”

  He nodded and ushered Dylan and Melissa back outside to the car. He then buckled Dylan into his car seat as Melissa settled herself up front. Once he’d started the car, turned around and headed toward the cabin, she slumped over. “I hate lying to your family. They seem like nice people.”

  “They are nice.”

  “You don’t trust them then to keep the secret?”

  “I trust every one of them with my life.”

  “Then why all the lies?”

  “It has to be that way, Melissa. Don’t you see? Being honest with them about what I do would only place them in danger. As long as they don’t know about WITSEC, they won’t ask questions about what I’m doing or worry about the risks I face.”

  “I’m sure your mom worries about you no matter what.”

  “Yeah, well, trying to stop my mom from worrying is like fighting a bull.”

  She glanced into the back seat and gave a small smile, and he could see worrying about your children was something she could relate to. “I guess you’re right.”

  He sighed and opened up to her. “There are other factors involved, too. Not every witness I relocate is an innocent victim like yourself. In fact, most of them are criminals, testifying against their bosses in exchange for leniency. If they knew my real identity or about my family, they could use that info as leverage against me.”

  “Then why do you do it? Why take so many risks to protect people like that?”

  He gave her a small shrug and tried to sound nonchalant. “It’s what I do.” But when he saw the disbelief in her face, he decided to be honest with her. He parked the truck in front of Josh’s cabin and put it in Park, but didn’t get out. “When I was fourteen, there was this gang that took up residence in town. My dad was sheriff back then and I spent a lot of time at the sheriff’s office. One day, a call came in about an old man, a rancher named Robert Bullock. He was eighty years old and he’d been found beaten nearly to death. He’d had a run-in with the gang the day before and they’d bragged about beating him up and taking his truck. My dad tried to arrest those men, only no one who heard them bragging about it would come forward to testify against t
hem.”

  “How awful.”

  “People were scared. I remember the fear everyone felt. I also remember how frustrated my dad was at the whole town. He was trying to put away bad guys, violent men, only everyone involved was too scared to help him. It only would have taken one person stepping up, and the whole town would have been safer—but no one was willing to take that risk. When I joined the marshals service, I knew I wanted to see people brought to justice, people like those men, and sometimes that means making a deal. It’s my job to protect those people who risk their lives to come forward so that we can put away the really bad guys.”

  He turned to look at her and saw tears pooling in her eyes. “People like my mom.”

  He reached out to touch her arm, sending a spark of electricity between them. The cab of the truck filled with tension and he saw in her face that she felt it, too. He broke their connection by opening the door and getting out. As he walked around the car, he took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. His attraction to this woman would do nothing but put her life in danger. It was clear that nothing could ever happen between them. She hated secrets, and keeping secrets was his way of life.

  She took Dylan’s hand and they walked into Josh’s cabin. He’d built it intending to marry his high-school girlfriend right out of college, which he’d done, but their marriage had lasted barely two months before she’d been murdered in this very cabin. Afterward, Josh had poured himself into his work at the sheriff’s office, eventually winning election as sheriff once their dad retired.

  Miles opened the door to the spare bedroom. “You and Dylan can stay in here. I’ll take the other room.”

  She glanced around, then turned back to him. “Are you sure we’re safe here?”

  “Absolutely. No one knows you’re here. Even my office doesn’t know we’ve come here and, I promise, my brothers are the best backup we could ask for.”