Page 13 of Dusty
At the dinner table, surrounded by the warmth and laughter of the Boudreau family, he watched Sharon slowly relax, saw genuine smiles break through her careful facade as Destiny told embarrassing stories about Dane when she’d told him she was pregnant. He noticed how she listened intently to each conversation, how she sidestepped questions about herself with practiced vagueness, deflecting attention back to others with the skill of someone used to remaining unnoticed.
When their eyes met across the table, something passed between them—a tentative understanding. Or maybe just mutual recognition of two people carrying burdens they weren’t ready to share.
Douglas caught his eye and gave a slight nod. The message was clear: he would help, but Dusty needed to be cautious. He took a deep breath, even as he felt himself sliding further down a slope he wasn’t sure he could climb back up.
Because the truth was, he’d already made his choice. Whatever secrets Sharon Elliott hid, whatever danger followed in her wake, he would stand between her and harm’s way. Not just because it was his job to protect the people of Shiloh Springs, but because something about this woman—this stranger with wariness in her eyes—called to him in a way he couldn’t explain and wasn’t ready to examine too closely.
As the afternoon bled into evening, and the sun cast long shadows through the windows, Dusty wondered which was moredangerous: the unknown threat hunting Sharon, or the growing certainty that he would risk everything to keep her safe.
Sharon sank intothe plush cushions of the Boudreau family sofa, a glass of sweet tea sweating in her hand. The Big House, as everyone called it, lived up to its name—a sprawling ranch home with high ceilings, exposed beams, and enough room to comfortably host the entire Boudreau clan plus guests. The scent of Ms. Patti’s pot roast and fresh-baked rolls still filled the air, as the women worked in the kitchen putting away the leftovers after dinner. Jill’s German chocolate cake for dessert had been the perfect finale to a wonderful meal. Though she’d wanted to help with cleanup, Ms. Patti insisted she head into the living room and spend a few minutes getting to know the rest of the Boudreau clan. Of course, keeping all the names and faces straight would take more than this one meeting, because there were a lot of Boudreaus. Add in their wives and fiancées, and it was enough to make her head spin.
The only one of the Boudreaus she hadn’t met today was Nica, the family’s sole daughter, who was away at a medical conference with her doctor husband.
For these few precious hours, she’d been able to breathe with the threat of Cooper’s men tracking her. They wouldn’t dare approach her here, not with so many witnesses around. Especially not a family as powerful as the Boudreaus, who seemed to be beloved fixtures in Shiloh Springs.
“More tea, honey?” Ms. Patti appeared at her elbow, pitcher in hand.
“No, thank you. Everything was delicious.”
Douglas Boudreau, patriarch of the family, regaled her with stories of the ranch’s early days and his boys dealing withworking on a ranch, his deep laugh infectious. She’d learned all the Boudreau sons were foster kids in their younger years. They’d all come to foster at the ranch, boys who had troubled lives and ended up in the system. Rafe, the sheriff of Shiloh Springs, had been their first, but with their big hearts, Douglas and Ms. Patti had opened their home to the most troubled boys, and helped turn them from ruffians to respectable, upstanding men. Their rough starts ended up blessings, and each son legally changed their last name to Boudreau as a show of respect and love for the people who gave them their best chance at life. Those who could be legally adopted by Douglas and Ms. Patti were, though there had been a couple of boys who hadn’t been for various reasons, but they were no less members of the ever-enlarging Boudreau clan. Sometimes biological parents put up roadblocks, but all the boys ended up Boudreaus anyway. Every single one of them, except Lucas, had legally changed his last name to Boudreau. She knew there was a story in there somewhere, about Lucas maintaining his birth name, and she hoped she was around long enough to hear it. Honestly, she found everything about the family fascinating. Maybe, if she stuck around long enough, she’d meet their only daughter, Nica.
She’d never met a woman like Ms. Patti, and already she loved her. How could she not? Who else would see somebody sitting on a bus bench and realize how much they needed help, give them a roof over their heads, plenty of good homemade meals, and arrange a part-time job at the local diner?
Dusty sat nearby, occasionally glancing Sharon’s way with a smile that made her heart flutter traitorously. These people were nothing like the cutthroat businessmen she’d grown accustomed to in Chicago. Nothing like Cooper Madison and his sociopathic cronies who’d move heaven and earth to silence her. The Boudreaus were genuine, their welcome warm and seemingly without agenda.
“So, Sharon,” a voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Dusty tells me you’re new to town.”
The man who addressed her was seated in the pub chair angled beside the sofa, his posture giving him away even before Ms. Patti had introduced him as her son Antonio. Law man, through and through. She could spot members of law enforcement from a mile away now. There was something in his eyes—calculating, assessing—that reminded her too much of the people she was running from.
“Yes,” she said carefully. “Just passing through, really.”
Antonio nodded, but she recognized the look. He didn’t believe her.
“Antonio works for the FBI in Austin,” Ms. Patti said proudly, patting her son’s shoulder. “He and his wife live in Shiloh Springs, and he commutes to the Austin office several days a week.”
Sharon felt her blood turn ice cold.A fed.Here. In this room. She’d pegged him for some kind of lawman, but figured he might work for the sheriff’s department like Dusty.
She forced a smile. “How interesting.”
The after-dinner conversation proceeded with jovial remarks and more tales of things going on in their lives, but Sharon couldn’t shake the awareness of Antonio’s occasional glances and pointed stares her way. When she stood to take her empty tea glass to the kitchen, she noticed the huge back patio outside the back door and stepped out, breathing in deeply. There was a sense of calm here on the ranch, unlike anything she’d ever experienced living in Chicago.
“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” She jerked at the sound of a male voice and found Antonio leaning against the porch railing beside her.
Sharon nodded, searching for an escape route.
“You know,” Antonio continued conversationally, still staring out at the distant skyline, but Sharon knew he was aware of her every move. “Dusty doesn’t usually bring friends to family dinner.”
She shrugged. “Ms. Patti was kind enough to invite me.”
“My mother has a soft spot for strays,” he said, then quickly added, “Not that you’re—I just meant people who might need a little kindness.” A soft smile curled his lips. “I should know, I was one of them.”
Sharon’s knuckles whitened around the railing, her feet preparing to run. But where would she go? Ever since she’d left Chicago, her first instinct was always to run. “Is there something you want to ask me, Agent Boudreau?”
His eyebrows rose slightly at her directness. “I notice things. It’s my job. And I couldn’t help but notice that you’re scared of something or maybe someone.”
“I’m not—”
“Please,” he interrupted softly. “I’ve interviewed enough witnesses to recognize fear.” He lowered his voice. “You scan every room when you enter. You watch the doors. You rarely turn your back to a window. Even here, where nobody is getting on the property without my family knowing about it, you’re on guard.”
