Chapter 10

When Chase walked into the kitchen the next morning, Lauren stood at the large window taking in the sunrise, with a cup of coffee in her hand.

He smirked when he saw the coffee already made, admiring the woman's headstrong and stubborn ways. He poured a cup and leaned his back against the counter. He took a sip. "Coffee's good. You got up early this morning. Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes, I sure did." She carried her cup to the counter for a refill and stood beside him.

He tightened in response to her closeness. His arms yearned to pull her against him. The cup in her hand trembled, and when he looked at her, her gaze dropped to his mouth. A potent hunger filled him, starving for a taste of her.

He put his cup down and took her seductive face in his palms, for a moment relishing the softness of her skin. He stroked his thumbs over her cheeks, slid his hands into her hair, cradled the back of her head, and tugged her closer. "You look beautiful this morning," he whispered against her mouth as he brushed his lips over hers. His mouth slanted over hers. He groaned low in his throat, a sound of need too long denied.

He pressed into her, his arousal thick and hard. He gave way to his hunger and changed his tender kisses into more demanding sips and tastes. His lips explored hers, unhurried.

The backdoor opened, and Amos stuck his head inside. "Ahemuhsorry, boss, but we got ourselves a little problem, and I need to talk to you right away."

Chase jerked away from Lauren faster than a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I'll be right out," he said, staring at her while Amos backed out and closed the door. "I've gotta go. Maybe later we can pick up where we left off."

"Maybe." She cocked her head with a mischievous smile. "I'll ring the bell for lunch."

He gave her one last kiss, then moved toward the door. "I'm sure you'll ring my bell when the time is right," he teased, picking up his hat from the peg, and headed out the door.

* * * *

Lauren kept smiling, her heart filled with happiness. She felt rejuvenated. She hurriedly cleared the dishes from the table, loaded the dishwasher, then headed upstairs to straighten up her room.

With her bedroom chores finished, she lay on the bed to catch her breath. She touched her lips. Chase's taste still lingered on them. Would life on his ranch be the fresh start from her volatile past? She closed her eyes and the violent night she thought was behind her flooded her mind.

* * * *

Clint's retreating footsteps and the slam of the screen door vibrated in her ears.

That night. She'd held her breath until the engine of his truck came to life and she heard stones from the gravel driveway flying up and hitting the fenders. When the tires finally squealed on the street's pavement, she relaxed. The farther away he got, the safer she felt.

She crawled over to the phone, which Clint had knocked from the table onto the floor during his rage. She dialed the number she'd known since the eighth grade. "Jan?" she croaked when her best friend, Janelle, from down the street, answered on the second ring.

"Lauren? What's wrong? You sound funny."

"It'sit's Clint. I'm really hurt, Jan," she rasped, hoping Janelle could understand her words. She tried to sit up, but it hurt too much to breathe.

"Clint? That bastard! I'll be right there, hon. Don't move," Janelle said and the line went dead.

She laid her head on the cold tile floor and continued to cry until she heard the sound of a vehicle in the driveway. Terrified it might be Clint back for more, she cringed on the floor until she heard soft footsteps come through the front door.

"Lauren? Sweetie, where are you?" Janelle hollered from the front of the house.

"I'm in thekitchen," she tried to answer, but her throat was too raw, and the words only came out in a distorted croak.

Janelle finally found her and fell to her knees beside her best friend on the floor. She carefully turned Lauren over and surveyed the damage on her face. "Oh my God, Lauren. What'd he do to you?" Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up and grabbed a tea towel from the kitchen counter, reached in the freezer, and retrieved a bag of frozen peas. She wrapped the bag of peas in the towel and placed it on Lauren's face.

"This will relieve some of the pain and swelling until help comes. Lie still now, hon. I already called the police, and they're on their way. This is the last time he's going to get away with this."

"Is itbad?" Lauren whispered.

"Hell yeah, it's bad. It's worse than the last time. You'll be okay though. Don't worry. You've just got to get away from him this time. He's done this to you before. He apologized just to get you to take him back, and then the jerk does it all over again. You can't go on like this. You deserve better."

"Not this time. This is it, the last time. That son-of-a-bitch will never hit me again. I'll move away and change my name if I have to," she whispered, gasping to catch her breath after every other word, her lips puffy.

When the doorbell rang, Janelle left Lauren's side, opened the door to find two police officers, and ushered them into the kitchen. "It's my friend," she said. "Her asshole boyfriend used her as a punching bagagain."

"It looks like it all happened right here in the kitchen," said one officer, as he viewed the surrounding disarray.

After one look at Lauren's broken and bleeding face, the police called the paramedics. While waiting for the EMTs to arrive, the police had asked a bevy of questions and noted numerous bruises on her face, neck, and torso. They also took pictures of the disarrayed kitchen.

* * * *

When the ambulance arrived, she remembered being put on a stretcher and taken to the emergency room for stitches and much-needed pain medication. With Janelle to help her pack up her clothes and toiletries, she'd left town two days later when she was released from the hospital. She'd called Janelle once since being on the road to make sure she was okay, that she hadn't implicated Janelle in her escape. She was assured Clint had not contacted Janelle. Both were relieved.

Her body shook from reliving the nightmare. That was then and this is now, she reminded herself. She was in Wyoming with Chase, a good man who cared about her as a human being. Not in Michigan with Clint, who only wanted her around to release his power and control.

She scooted off the bed, her lips pursed firmly together with determination. No one would abuse her again. Never. Lauren raised her chin and went downstairs.

After she switched the clothes from the washer to the dryer, she headed to the barn to visit with her best friend, Lucy. She hoped she could convince Amos to give her another riding lesson today.

Lauren dodged the puddles left by the light rain that had fallen earlier. The sun was out and the grass was rich and green with nourishment. She gazed at the horses in the corral beside the barn, their forelocks hanging in their eyes and their long tails sweeping the ground and catching in the breeze. Lucy, out of her stall, came over to her by the fence. She stroked the horse's warm nose and chin. The horse put her head over the rail and tried to rub on her.

"Such a lovely girl," Lauren said, admiring and adoring the animal who kept all her secrets.

It was unusually quiet and Lauren wondered where everyone was. The ranch wasn't as hustling and bustling as it normally was at this hour. She strolled to the barn and past Midnight's empty stall. She hadn't noticed him in the corral but knew he could be anywhere on Chase's acres of property. Since she saw no sign of Amos, she wandered back to the corral and leaned on the fence.

A moment later, a car came screeching down the dirt lane and she turned around in time to see the Sheriff pulling in. Another man she didn't recognize was with him in the cruiser. With a simple wave to her, the sheriff and his friend made their way into the barn, started up the four-wheelers, and headed to the eastern pasture.

Her gaze followed them until they were out of sight. A feeling of dread swept over her, but she'd have to be patient to find out what had happened. Waiting without worrying was not one of her virtues.

Back in the house, anxious and worried about Chase, she kept busy. She got her laundry out of the dryer and folded it. Carrying her things upstairs, she put them away, glad to have enough clean clothes for another day or two. She was headed down the stairs when she heard the hum of the four-wheelers returning to the barn. She hurried to the kitchen window and saw Chase and Amos on horseback, with another horse in tow. The unfamiliar horse had something wrapped in a blanket and draped over its back.

Lauren ran out of the house and toward the men. Chase dismounted and held the reins of the towed horse while the Sheriff and his partner untied the cargo from the saddle. As the object slid free, an arm appeared from the bulk, its hand flopping back and forth as though waving. They laid it on the ground.

She was staring at the body of a man.