No One Needs to Know. Debbi Rawlins
About the Author
DEBBI RAWLINS grew up in the country with no fast-food drive-throughs or nearby neighbors, so one might think as a kid she’d be dazzled by the bright lights of the city, the allure of the unfamiliar. not so. She loved westerns in movies and books, and her first crush was on a cowboy—okay, he was an actor in the role of a cowboy, but she was only eleven, so it counts. it was in houston, texas, where she first started writing for Mills & Boon, and now, more than fifty books later, she has her own ranch…of sorts. instead of horses, she has four dogs, five cats, a trio of goats and free-range cattle keeping her on her toes on a few acres in gorgeous rural utah. And of course, the deer and elk are always welcome.
No One Needs
to Know
Debbi Rawlins
1
FROM HER PERCH ON THE PORCH railing at the Sundance ranch, Annie Sheridan took what she called a memory shot. If she’d had her beloved old Nikon she’d have pulled it out and centered the lens on the familiar faces of her hosts, but the spectacular sunset against the Rocky Mountains would have been the star. Only to the casual observer, though, which Annie most definitely was not.
She’d become an expert at the art of watching from a distance. It didn’t even bother her that much, not anymore. Two years into exile, she’d grown used to being the strange woman who ran the Safe Haven large-animal sanctuary, the one who never came to parties unless there was something her shelter needed—a favor, a donation, an adoptive home. Of course everyone in Blackfoot Falls knew who she was, and it would have stunned her if the residents of the small town hadn’t made up at least a dozen stories to explain her hermit ways.
No one, she was sure, would ever come close to the truth.
She sipped from her glass of white zinfandel, a rare treat along with the scrumptious steak and baked potato she’d had earlier. The last time she’d eaten at a party was…in another life.
That sobering thought had her off the railing and heading toward Barbara McAllister and the cluster of family that surrounded the Sundance matriarch. If Annie let herself yearn for anything these days—outside of more money for Safe Haven—it was the friendship of this clan. The three brothers—Cole, Jesse and Trace—were always willing to lend a hand during an emergency. Jesse had saved many a poor animal’s life, or given a horse or a llama or a potbellied pig a new home with his rescue airlifts.
Then there was Rachel and her boyfriend, Matt, so giddily in love. In the past six months two of the three McAllister brothers had hooked up. And now with Rachel taken, that only left Trace on the loose. Something the Sundance dude ranch guests, all of them single women in their twenties or early thirties, were trying to remedy.
Rachel had made several attempts at befriending her, though Annie had kept her distance. But boundary lines that had once been set in stone were becoming more flexible.
“Are you getting ready to leave?”
Annie smiled at Jesse’s girlfriend. The whole reason Annie was socializing at all was due to unassuming, crazy-generous Shea. Taking a break from her high-security job as a computer programmer, she’d come to Montana over the Christmas holidays to help at Safe Haven. But she’d come back to Blackfoot Falls because of Jesse. That she’d turned out to be the sanctuary’s most influential volunteer and backer was a miracle.
Annie sighed with real regret as she nodded. “I have chores.”
“Need help?”
“Not from you, although thanks for offering. You stay right here and enjoy yourself with that man of yours.”
Shea blushed as she slipped her hands into the pockets of her dark gray trousers. “I’m glad you stayed so long. Jesse said you’ve never had dinner here before.”
“You know how things are. Always something to do, what with every female animal at the shelter pregnant.”
Shea laughed. “Not every one.”
Annie set her glass on a big tray, knowing no one would mind that she didn’t stay to clean up. “It’s been a nice party.”
“It has,” Shea said, with more than a little surprise in her voice. “I usually hate parties. Never know what to say. But with the McAllisters it’s different.” She leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice. “Yesterday, I talked to Sadie from the Watering Hole for almost half an hour.”
“Whoa, look at you, Shea. You haven’t even lived here a full month yet and you’re already one of the in crowd.”
“Jesse tries to include me in things because he knows I’m oblivious,” she said in that matter-of-fact tone that still made Annie smile. “Not with gossip, though. He doesn’t do that.”
Perhaps because he’d heard his name, the man in question sidled up to Shea and snuck his arm across her shoulders, but kept his gaze on Annie.
“I’m flying out to Missoula on Tuesday,” Jesse said, “so you might want to put together a shopping list.”
She perked up because it was about a hundred miles to Missoula, and she could get things there that weren’t available in a small town like Blackfoot Falls or even the bigger Kalispell. Northwestern Montana was gorgeous, but it was mostly land and lakes and mountains. “I’ll get on that tomorrow.”
“With all that loot you two have been raking in,” Jesse said, “it’ll be hard to decide what to buy first.”
Annie smiled at his teasing. He was the only other person who knew how much of the influx of money had come either directly from Shea or from donations she’d wrangled. Annie pulled her keys out of her pocket. “Trust me, most of it is spent and we had no trouble doing it. Unbelievable how many things need replacing or fixing at that sorry shelter.”
“Your cabin, for instance?” Shea said.
“My cabin is fine, thanks.” Annie addressed Jesse again, wanting to change the subject quickly. “I’ll send a list home with Shea.” She looked at her. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”
“Of course.”
Annie fiddled with her keys as she backed up in the direction of her truck. “Great. See you then.” She said quick goodbyes to most of the McAllisters along with many thanks, but before they could even try to convince her to stick around for dessert she climbed into her old green pickup.
No matter what she did or how long she left the windows open, the cab always smelled like horses. She didn’t mind. Horses had been a comfort to her all her life, and even though they were an amazing amount of work, especially this time of year, she couldn’t have wished for better company.
Horses didn’t care that she was on the run, that she’d messed up her life beyond repair. They loved her, anyway.
It didn’t take long to reach Safe Haven, and the first thing she did was check on the animals in the stable. She had an abandoned stallion that was starting to pick up some weight and get a little shine to his coat, and she added some grain to his feed trough. She spent longer checking on the mares, both of them with full teats but only in the prep stage of foaling, so there was time.
An hour later, she was finished with the barn chores and walked the couple hundred feet to the cabin everyone was so obsessed with. Inside, the overhead light sputtered to life, giving her a shadowed view of her home.
No, it wasn’t much, but it served its purpose. She could run her computer, plus she had a coffeemaker, a microwave, a toaster oven and a minifridge. Hell, she’d lived for years with less at the Columbia University dorms. The tiny claustrophobic bathroom