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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.
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.
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Trouble was, he couldn’t be sure that the woman, identified simply as Annie, was Leanna Warner. If she’d only turned a little more toward the camera…Besides, this woman looked as if she’d been born in Western gear.
He ran one of the old videos and froze it when he had a decent view of her profile. He pulled up the two images so they were side by side on his monitor. For a long time, he just flicked his gaze from one to the other, and dammit, there were similarities. The odds were not high that he’d found the missing Warner, but it would drive him crazy not to know for sure. More importantly, he owed this to Christian.
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