Lizzy's attacker had warned her to get out of town. Why? Why would her leaving town be important enough to somebody for him to attack her? What would happen if she didn't heed the warning and remained here?
She would be the first woman in his house since Janice had died, and the idea of having Lizzy beneath his roof, albeit in one of his guest rooms, both excited and terrified him.
He'd offered to take on the responsibility of her for safety reasons and certainly had no intention of offering her anything more than room and board, his protection and friendship.
But, he had nothing more to offer her. No matter how much he wanted to taste her lips, no matter how much he wanted her in his bed, he wasn't about to do anything that might make her believe there was a future there with him, not that she'd given any indication that she wanted one.
He just wanted to keep her safe, and he hoped he was doing the right thing by bringing her home with him. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible in any way for another woman's death.
* * *
Half an hour later, Lizzy followed behind Daniel's truck in her own car. She had no idea if she was doing the right thing or not by going home with Daniel. His offer had shocked her, and the fact that she'd accepted his offer had equally stunned her. But, there was no question that she was afraid, and the only people she truly trusted in this town were her waitress buddies, Mary and Daniel.
She kept telling herself she needed distance from Daniel, that he was the first person in her travels who held a threat to her plans, to her promise to her mother. He had the potential to be the right man, but it was definitely the wrong time in her life to entertain any kind of romantic thoughts.
Don't be silly, she told herself. He was still tightly bound in love to the wife he'd lost. He'd given her no indication that he was ready to move on. Rather, to the contrary, he'd made it clear that he had no desire to move on with anyone.
He'd offered her a safe haven, and right now that's all she wanted. If she'd had to stay in that cabin, she would have never slept again. She wasn't worried about Rusty, who was a tough older man, but she was grateful that Sheriff Evans was making other arrangements for Courtney and Garrett.
Get out of town, bitch. The words thundered in her brain, and she clutched the steering wheel with tightened fingers. Who would want her out of town, and why? She wasn't a threat to anyone. She didn't know anything that might harm anyone. She had no secret knowledge that could destroy a marriage or wreck a business. Even though she had discovered Candy's body, she certainly had no information that could point a finger to her killer.
It didn't make sense, and when something didn't make sense it worried her. It also didn't make sense that on some level she was eager to see Daniel's home, to see the things he surrounded himself with every day, things that might tell her more about the man.
And even though she'd be leaving there in a couple of days or so, she wanted to know more about Daniel the man. There was no question that in the week she'd been spending time with him, some of the dark shadows in his eyes had abated.
Mary had warned Lizzy not to break his heart, but what Lizzy feared would happen was that if she wasn't cautious, she'd be the one leaving there with a broken heart.
By the time they pulled up in front of Daniel's house, not only was Lizzy exhausted by the adrenaline that had finally dissipated from her since the attack, but she was also tired of overthinking everything.
She got out of her car at the same time Daniel got out of his truck. He walked with her to the trunk of her car, where she'd stashed three hastily packed suitcases.
She grabbed the smaller pink toiletry bag while he lifted up the two larger suitcases. They didn't speak as they left her car and walked to his front porch.
He set the suitcases down, unlocked his door and then ushered her inside. She wasn't sure what she'd expected of Daniel's living room, but the homey atmosphere created by overstuffed furniture and dark wood end tables atop a huge braided rug that complemented the gleaming hardwood floors wasn't it.
There was a bookcase against one wall holding a variety of books about ranching and several small bronze sculptures of cowboys. The couch was situated in front of a beautiful stone fireplace, and it was easy to imagine stealing some of the throw pillows from the sofa to lie on the floor in front of a roaring fire. A flat-screen television hung above the fireplace mantel, and Lizzy knew that Daniel probably spent most of his spare time sprawled on the sofa watching TV.
What surprised her more than anything was the absence of photos. She'd expected to walk into a shrine of sorts to Janice, but there was nary a photo of the woman in the room.
"Daniel, this is lovely," she said as she set down her cosmetic suitcase.
He dropped the two suitcases he'd carried in to the floor. "Come on, I'll show you the kitchen."
She followed him in and nearly caught her breath at the size of the room. It was built to be a family kitchen, a place to gather to eat and do homework and connect with each other.
It was painted a cheerful yellow, with yellow-and-white gingham curtains hanging over the windows that allowed the sun to play on a small breakfast nook.
"Cook much in here?" she asked, noticing that both the stovetop and oven had the cleanliness of little use.
He pointed to the microwave and the toaster next to it. "If it can't be toasted, zapped or grilled, then it's not being eaten in this house."
"This is a kitchen meant to be used for family gatherings and big meals," Lizzy said. She turned to look at Daniel, unsurprised to find his eyes dark and enigmatic.
"I'll take you upstairs and we'll get you settled for the night," he said, an obvious dismissal of her observation.
As they walked back through the living room, she grabbed her small suitcase and he once again lifted the two larger ones. He led her up a flight of stairs to the second floor. "Two guest rooms on the right, one on the left along with the bathroom," he said when they reached the landing. "The master suite is at the end of the hall."
He showed her each of the three guest bedrooms, and she took the one on the left next to the hall bathroom. All of them were lovely rooms, but this one made her feel instantly at home with its petal-pink spread and gauzy white curtains at the windows. The furniture was blond, fashioned years ago with the stability of solid craftsmanship.
"This will be fine," she said as she set down the cosmetic bag. He dropped the suitcases just inside the bedroom door.
"You'll find fresh towels and anything else you might need in the linen closet in the bathroom."
She nodded. It was close to midnight and she was sure he was eager to get to bed. A wealth of gratitude swelled up inside her. This man owed her nothing. She was nothing more than a piece of flotsam drifting through his life, and yet he'd stepped up for her, a virtual stranger, who was in need.
She took a step closer to where he stood in the threshold. "Daniel, I can't thank you enough for letting me stay here temporarily." Unconsciously, a hand rose to her neck as she remembered those horrifying moments of not being able to breathe.
His eyes darkened and he took a step toward her. "When I think of somebody hurting you, it makes me sick to my stomach." He balled his hands into fists at his sides. "Honestly, it makes me angry as hell."
Lizzy moved even closer to him and smiled up at him. "I don't believe in anger."
He frowned. "What do you mean, you don't believe in anger?"
She shrugged. "It's just been my experience that anger is an emotion that masks the real emotion beneath it. A wife says she's angry with her husband, but the truth of the matter is she's feeling either frustrated or betrayed. A mother is angry with a child, but it's usually disappointment she's really feeling. Life would be much easier if anger was taken out of the mix altogether and people could be in touch with their true emotions."
He frowned, as if trying to take in what she was saying. "The workings of your mind absolutely fascinate me," he finally said. "So, what is it that I'm feeling right now if not anger?"
She stepped forward again, moving close enough to him that she could feel his body heat radiating outward. "You're afraid for me, and maybe part of what you feel is puzzlement about who would try to hurt me or warn me to get out of town."
"It's a nice theory, Lizzy, but I've got to be honest with you. When I think of somebody wrapping their arm around your neck and squeezing the air out of you, when I allow myself to feel what you must have felt at that moment, I'm just plain pissed."