Page 25 of Silent Threat
Bags of food for various animals stood piled against the wall. Running the menagerie must cost a pretty penny just in feed.
The llamas and the donkey stuck to their corners and showed no inclination to get to know Cole better. He reached in with his good hand and scratched the pig behind the ears. If there were delighted squeals, he didn’t hear them. He went to pet the cat, but the cat swiped at him.
The raven gave him a squinty-eyed look that saidDon’t even try. He couldn’t reach the bird anyway. He went back to Annie.
He found her half-asleep.
“What’s up with the llamas?”
She blinked at him. “People moved and left them behind.”
He glanced back, but that end of the garage was too dark to see the animals. She had saved them in the nick of time. They looked like they were still pretty close to starvation.
“What was the worst you ever had?”
“A tarantula that lost a leg.” A delicate shiver ran through her. “I hate spiders.”
“Did you save it?”
A tragic look came over her face. “A goat ate him.”
A strangled laugh escaped him. “What happened to the goat?”
“Adopted.”
“Do you ever turn anything away?”
She rubbed the head of one of the baby skunks with the back of her crooked index finger. “Not anything, not ever.”
That people like her lived in the world scared Cole a little. Too softhearted, too easy to take advantage of, too vulnerable. Annie Murray needed a keeper. Not that he was volunteering.
He watched as she slid down into the hay, flat on her back, her head on the folded comforter. The skunks were all over her instantly, like love-smitten kittens, snuggled into every nook, a different baby tucked against every curve.
She closed her eyes, the picture of peaceful bliss.
Cole stood against a nearly irresistible pull to lie next to her and be part of the magic she was weaving.
He never thought he’d be jealous of a skunk, but he wanted to be tucked against her breast. She had generous breasts to go with her generous mouth. She was murmuring something to her little charges that he didn’t catch, a soft half smile on her lips.
He wanted to sink into Annie Murray’s earth-mother goodness, dissolve in her peace.
She was the most wholesome person he’d ever known.
He was the opposite—too damaged in too many ways. He was deaf, and his right arm might never fully function again. He had nightmares ...
He wouldn’t wish waking up next to him on his worst enemy.
In his dreams, either he was killing someone, or someone was killing him.
Hewasa killer. He’d been a damn good sniper before his right arm had been rendered useless. Maybe as punishment for his sins.
He didn’t care about the arm. He didn’t care about his lost hearing. He would gladly give more, give anything, if it brought back Ryan, his spotter, his best friend.
Since Ryan and the others had died, screaming in pain, Cole hadn’t been the same.
Sono, he could not have the peace Annie Murray was offering.
She could barely keep her eyes open. She must have realized she was falling asleep, because she shook it off and came to her feet.
