"I make furniture."

She glanced around, realizing that while they stood inside what was once a barn, it had been converted into a studio of sorts. Long workbenches ran the length of the place, each scattered with tools, wood and partially put-together projects, including the shelving unit he'd been working on when she'd burst in.

"I thought you were a rancher."

"My brothers are." His voice, so warm and friendly only a minute before, seemed brusque now. He shifted away and moved back to his bench, running a loving hand along the wood that even her untrained eye could see was beautiful, bare oak. He gave the wood a gentle pat that conveyed his feelings better than words ever could. "Ranching seems like too much work for me."

"Too much work?"

He shrugged. "I'd rather do this. It's… easier. More fun."

This was something Haley couldn't understand. She'd been bred to work, and had loved it with a passion she could hardly explain-especially to a man such as this. But she'd never thought of anything she'd done as remotely "fun." "So you let your brothers work the ranch?"

If he sensed her disapproval, he didn't show it. Or no longer cared. "They love it."

She asked him the question that had flitted about in her mind since she'd arrived. "You all live together. Why?"

"We're family," he said simply. Though he remained alert, he again relaxed. "The house and the land are mine legally, but that doesn't mean anything. We work it together."

"You mean, they work it. You-" She gestured around her. "You do what's easier."

Still smiling, he leaned against the nearest bench, crossing his booted feet. "Whatever," he drawled.

That cavalier attitude annoyed her, especially since she had a feeling he was putting it on for her benefit. Had her lie annoyed him or the interruption of his work? She had a feeling it was the former. "Do you do that on purpose?"

"Do what?"

"Put on that good-old-boy act."

"How do you know it's an act?"

Oh, yeah. She'd annoyed him. He was watching her intently now. She frowned and dropped her gaze from his. There was only one problem with that. Her eyes then settled on other parts of him; like those strong, broad shoulders stretching his flannel shirt in interesting ways across his chest, or those snug, faded jeans that fit his long, lean legs so nicely. Her frown deepened when she raised her gaze back to his and realized she'd been blatantly staring, and that he was fully enjoying the fact.

Which didn't explain the funny way her breath had caught in her throat. She couldn't be… No. There was absolutely no way that she was experiencing lust.

At the thought, a pain erupted in her belly so fast and so sharp, she couldn't contain her small gasp. Cam straightened immediately and was by her side before she could blink.

"What is it?"

Just as quickly, the pain passed. She wouldn't have felt it at all, except that she hadn't taken her pills last night or this morning. "Nothing." She pulled her shoulders back and yanked on the door. "Just nothing."

He reached around her to help. "It's something," he insisted.

"I'm fine, just fine. Really. And I've got work." She walked out into the bright, crisp October day. The blue, open Colorado sky loomed overhead, blending into a picture-perfect hilly landscape. In the distance, Aspen trees tossed in the wind, their round, flat leaves creating a unique rustling sound.

He waited until she'd gotten a few steps away. "Don't work too hard."

She stopped and turned. "That's an unusual thing for an employer to say to an employee."

"Things are different here than wherever you came from."

"That's the truth." How surprised he'd be to know she'd headed a team of five of the world's most brilliant geologists, some twice her age, leading them to the exciting discovery of a system of volcano-and-earthquake prediction and prevention. How shocked he'd be to know that at least two of them were dead because of that discovery. Not to mention the thousands who had been killed in the earthquake that had been purposely created as a test.

"Maybe someday you'll tell me about it," he said seriously.

Haley thought about how good it would feel to tell someone about the horror her life had become. But trust didn't come easily for her in the best of times, and certainly not now.

"Haley?" He took one step toward her. "I'm a good listener."

She shook her head and found herself, for the second time that day, inexplicably close to tears. Far too close, she realized, as her next breath shuddered through her. "I've got work" was all she could manage as she turned and ran the entire way to the big house.

Cam watched her go, standing there for a long moment before turning back to the barn. That had been the strangest interaction he'd ever had. She'd slammed into his studio, and, for a moment, he couldn't believe his luck. It had been so long since he'd let a woman get to him, it had taken him a minute or two to see the terror in her eyes.

And when he had, it had stirred something deep within. Standing there now, with the light wind sliding over him, he had to admit that those feelings had been fiercely protective. Yes, he always felt that way about anyone or anything in pain or in need, but this had been different.

Then she'd lied and everything inside him had gone cold. He knew nothing about Haley, and he'd do well to remember that. All he felt for her was empathy. No different from when he'd given that old cowboy, Joe, a job for the winter because he had nowhere else to go. No different from when he'd taken Max in. No different at all.

He smirked. Right.

"Whatcha staring at?"

Cam let the unaccustomed tension drain out of him and faced his oldest brother. "Our new housekeeper."

"Oh, yeah?" Zach turned, watched as Haley ran the rest of the way into the house. "She's nice," he said cautiously. "And she can cook breakfast."

"But?" Cam asked, looking at him. "There's always a but when you talk in that attorney voice."

"You like her."

At Zach's flat statement, Cam sighed, never having gotten used to his brother's unerring ability to sense things others couldn't. "I like a lot of people."

"She's different," he countered.

"No," Cam denied, but caught his brother's long, solemn look and relented. "I've only known her for a day, Zach."

"Yeah, but you've got that look in your eye. That 'protect the victim' look with a whole helluva lot of lust added in."

"Don't you have to go feed your cattle or something?" So he was a sucker for a victim, he couldn't help it. Having Zach point it out only annoyed him.

"I don't want to see you hurt."

Cam wanted, quite badly, to laugh his brother off, but he couldn't quite manage it. "I'm a big boy now, you know."

"It's been a long time since Lorraine died."

Cam let the air whoosh out of him as his good humor completely faded, to be replaced by that sense of… unbalance that had plagued him for what seemed like years now. "And you think I'm looking for another wife?"

"No, of course not."

"Haley Williams is our housekeeper, and that's it," Cam said firmly. "Stop worrying. You sound like Mom used to."

"Do I?" Zach asked evenly, pulling off his hat and swiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Lorraine was bad for you."

"She's dead, Zach."

"She lied to you, hurt you."

Unreasonable temper surged. "Back off."

"There was no Haley Williams on board Nellie's plane yesterday."

Tension seized him instantly. "What do you mean?"

"I checked."

"Why?"

They stared at each other for a long moment before Zach relented.

"I'm an ex-cop," Zach said with an apologetic shrug. "Bad habit."

At the clear concern in Zach's gaze, Cam closed his eyes. But all he saw was the image of Haley in the barn, clearly terrified, also clearly willing to lie to cover that fact. Not again. Please, God, not another liar. "What did you find out?"

Slowly, Zach put his hat back on, slid his thumbs into his back pockets and studied the sky. "She did come from South America. But no Haley from Los Angeles to here. She must have paid cash and used a different name."

"You haven't even passed the bar, and already you're acting like a lawyer." Cam sighed. Dammit. "Okay, you're not going to let it alone, so let's hear it."

"Either she wanted someone to think she stayed in L.A., or she's not who she says." Zach looked at him. "I could have dug further, but it didn't feel right. Do you want me to?"

"No." That wasn't what he wanted. What he did want no longer surprised him. He wanted Haley to tell him the truth herself, wanted her to take away this terrible wariness and suspicion. He'd been down this road before and couldn't face it again.

"What do you suppose is going on?"

"I don't know." Cam rubbed his chest, not understanding the ache that had settled there. Why did he care?

"You've been there, done that," Zach warned. "Another woman who can't be honest."

"Which is your kind way of saying she's a liar."

Zach raised a brow. "Are we talking about Haley or Lorraine?"

"I'm not in the mood for this, Zach."

Zach lifted his bands in a gesture of surrender.

"I can't explain it, but she's all right," Cam insisted. "I just know." He hoped.

"Which leaves only one thing."

They looked at each other.

"She's running," Zach said.

"Yeah." But from what?


* * *

Haley ran directly into Cam's den, closed and locked the door and lifted her shirt. There against her hip, attached to her jeans, was the pager, vibrating with a chilly evilness.

With shaking hands, she lifted it, pressed the button to get her message. Again from an unknown number in South America. Fear sucked the oxygen right out of her lungs at the printed words.

"Haley, I'll find you."

Suddenly the pager went off yet again, this time from Alda.

"Haley, where are you? Who's done this to us?" The typed words continued across the screen. "Lloyd's dead. He died in the explosion. That's what the police said, and now they're looking for you. Bob's missing. Haley, where are you?"

Haley stared at the pager as a possible betrayal whipped the heels of her fear. Everyone gone or missing except Alda. Was it possible? It had been Alda who insisted that the team and EVS not go public with their discovery. Haley had always believed Lloyd and EVS would sell it to the U.S. government so that the USGS could continue the study. But Lloyd had agreed with Alda to wait, to keep the public ignorant, until after the final test. Those tests had never taken place.

And now they were looking for her. Haley could only hope they wouldn't find her-at least not until the real killer made a mistake and showed himself.

Chapter 3

Haley kept busy for the rest of the day because she had to. If she didn't, the humiliation of the barn scene would kill her. And if that didn't, then the horror of what she'd learned would.

Lloyd dead. Only three of them left now, assuming Bob was indeed still alive. The pain in her gut made her decide not to think about it.

It seemed all her life there had been things from her past she'd needed to avoid thinking about. Losing her father before she'd known him. Being shunned by a high-society mother who couldn't handle the burden of raising a "special" child. Being responsible for the deaths of too many people to count, when all she'd ever wanted was to make the world a safer place.

She needed to forget, just for a little while, or she'd self-destruct. Besides, she'd been bred to work, and without it, she felt useless.

The big house was lovely but, as she quickly discovered, clean only on the surface. She found someone's stiff, dirty socks under a cushion on the couch, a stack of long-forgotten mail behind a potted plant in desperate need of water, and a half-eaten tortilla, crisp with age, in a far corner of the patio. She cleaned it all, and shocked herself by how much she actually enjoyed doing it.

But even with the peace and solitude, there was the knowledge that all this was temporary. Soon, she'd have to come up with a better plan. Such as how to get help without getting herself extradited to South America.

Even sooner, she'd have to figure out what she could manage for dinner; but one worry at a time. She took a stack of rugs outside to shake out the dirt, and spotted the wooden-raid fence in the side yard. She decided to throw the rugs over it so she could shake the dust loose with her broom.