He held her as tightly as he could. There had to be a mistake. Her parents—they were fine, weren’t they?
“Please,” Ava begged him. “Help my parents. Help them!”
* * *
BUT THERE WAS nothing he could do. When Mark and his men went to the McGuire ranch, they didn’t see the attackers. They just saw the blood.
Mark and his men made it to the ranch before the cops did. He was the first one in that place—and he would never forget the terrible sight that greeted him.
“Who would do something like this?” Ty Watts, Mark’s ranch foreman, demanded as he stared at the brutal scene. “And why?”
There was no sign of the attackers. They were long gone. Mark stood there, the scent of blood heavy in the air around him, and he knew that he would be the one telling Ava that her parents hadn’t survived.
He would be the one to give her the devastating news.
Mark bent down next to Ava’s father. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
* * *
AVA STAYED AT his ranch for two days. During that time, she barely spoke. Her skin was too pale, her eyes far too wounded. She jumped at the slightest sound and during the night, she woke screaming. Again and again.
Mark didn’t think he’d ever forget the sound of Ava’s screams. He hated her pain and her grief, and he wished that he could do something to comfort her.
“I should have helped them.” Ava’s low voice had his head whipping toward her. They were on his porch, waiting, because Mark had gotten word that Ava’s oldest brother had finally made it back to town. He’d learned of the slaughter at his family’s ranch, and Grant McGuire had rushed home, flying back from some covert mission that had taken him to the other side of the world.
“Ava...” Mark sighed her name, and deliberately keeping his voice gentle, he told her, “The attackers had guns. What could you have done? You went for help!”
She shook her head, sending the dark locks sliding over her shoulder. “I left them to die.”
She was breaking his heart. Ripping it right out with her quiet words.
“If you’d stayed,” Mark forced himself to say, “then you’d be dead, too.”
At first, Ava didn’t speak. She stared down at her hands. Her fingers fisted. “I feel dead.”
He strode toward her to pull her close. When she wouldn’t look at him, he tipped back her chin. “Ava.”
She flinched.
“You aren’t dead.” The thought of her dead—the thought of finding Ava... Ava with her slow smile and her warm green eyes...dead...that notion chilled him. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
He heard the sound of a car approaching. He didn’t let Ava go, but he glanced over his shoulder. Grant McGuire had arrived. He’d come to take Ava away.
I don’t want to let her go.
Because when Ava stayed with him at the ranch, he knew she was safe. He had his men on alert. They were patrolling constantly. But when Ava left...how was he supposed to watch out for her?
A car door slammed. Footsteps approached. But Ava was still staring up at Mark. He found that he couldn’t look away from her.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
So am I. And very little scared him in this world.
“Ava!” That was Grant’s voice. And suddenly Grant was charging up the steps. He pulled Ava into his arms and held her tight.
The guy’s arms seemed to swallow Ava as she stood there, and Mark knew that Grant would be taking her away. The guy had flown halfway across the country in order to come home to Ava.
Grant turned toward him. “Thanks for watching my sister.”
He forced his gaze to meet Grant’s green stare. Green, like Ava’s, but different. Colder. Harder. Fierce.
“I won’t forget what you did.” Grant shook Mark’s hand. Then he looked back at Ava. “It’s time to leave.”
A tear slid down Ava’s cheek, but she didn’t make a sound. Mark’s chest ached. He wanted to reach out to Ava and comfort her.
But Grant was the one to do that. Grant wiped away her tears before he pulled her close once again. “We’re going to find the men who did this,” he promised her. “They won’t ever hurt anyone again.”
And in that moment, Mark made a vow of his own. No one would ever hurt Ava again.
Because her tears tore him apart.
Ava McGuire didn’t have a lot of safe havens. And, outside of her family, there weren’t exactly a lot of people she trusted.
In fact, only one person came to mind...
Mark Montgomery.
Ava slammed her car door and turned to the house. It was the middle of the night. Not the right time to be paying a visit to Mark’s ranch, but she wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with options.
I need to see him.
She straightened her shoulders and she marched toward his front door. She didn’t let the memories swamp her as she climbed up the steps of the big wraparound porch. If she thought too much about the past, it would hurt. Those memories always did.
So she shoved the thoughts into the recesses of her mind, and she climbed those front steps. She reached for the doorbell but then the door opened.
Mark was there.
Tall, handsome, strong—Mark. His blond hair was tousled, and the light shone behind him, glinting off his shoulders. Very broad and bare shoulders because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just a pair of low-slung jeans.
“Ava?” He reached out to her. As always, he seemed warm. His touch chased away the chill she’d felt since she’d first climbed into her car and begun the drive that would take her from her place in Houston to Mark’s ranch in Austin. “What are you doing here?”
I needed to see you. I had to talk with someone...with someone who wouldn’t think I was crazy.
Those words wanted to tumble out of her mouth, but she was trying to play things cool and not come across as the insane one. At least, not right away. She knew there were plenty of folks who already thought she was nuts or, much worse, a cold-blooded killer.
The rumors about her had persisted for years.
But...Mark had never seemed to believe those stories. He’d always stood by Ava and her family.
“I need your help,” she told him quietly. She looked over his shoulder, hoping that no one else was there. The ranch house was huge, sprawling, but normally his staff stayed in separate quarters. She really didn’t want anyone to overhear the confession she was about to make.
He pulled her into the house and shut the door behind her. “Ava, I’ll give you anything you need.”
Right. Because that was true-blue Mark. The guy who was always there to save the day. Or at least, that was the way she thought of him. Lately, though, her brothers had been acting differently when they spoke of Mark.
Her brothers had been friends with Mark for her whole life. And she, well, she’d been the tagalong. The little girl who bounced after the boys. And who had always been in love with Mark Montgomery.