Lone Rider by B.J. Daniels

“Unfortunately, I can’t remember, so I have no idea why I would do such a thing.”
    Russell suspected something had happened to trigger her suicide attempt other than postpartum depression. He was betting Senator Buckmaster Hamilton was behind it. But Sarah didn’t believe it. Or didn’t want to believe it.
    Russell didn’t want to fight with her, though, so he said, “He wants you to come stay on the ranch. He suggested I bring you late at night to avoid the press.”
    â€œHe can’t be serious,” she said, meeting his gaze.
    Russell had said the same thing to the senator. “Apparently he is very serious. But you wouldn’t be staying in the big house with his other wife. You’d be living in the bunkhouse complex he built for the girls. He said it’s like a condo, and you would be comfortable and safe there.”
    â€œ
Safe?
Does he know the woman he’s married to at all?” She shook her head, looking miserable. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Moving onto the ranch with him married to another woman? Can you imagine what the press would make of it?”
    Russell couldn’t help his relief. “Are you going to tell Buckmaster about your visit to the neurologist?”
    â€œWhat would be the point? Buck wants answers. The doctor didn’t give me any.” She let out a small, bitter laugh. “Buck won’t accept that I might never recall the past twenty-two years. That those years might be gone forever.”
    Russell wondered if Buck might surprise her and be just as glad she couldn’t remember. He could see that a part of her
hoped
she wouldn’t remember the past. But he knew those years weren’t entirely gone. He’d seen her look startled on occasion, her eyes growing dark and cloudy, her hands balling into fists. But it was her expression that told him she
was
remembering. Wherever she’d been,
whatever
she’d been, the memories terrified her. Who she might have been terrified her.
    â€œFor Buck’s sake, I need to disappear again so I’m not such an issue with him running for president. But I want to have a relationship with my children. They already expect me to desert them again. The media has already made me out to be some flighty airhead who abandoned her husband and children, returning only because of my husband’s political success.”
    â€œYou could remarry,” Russell said and then bit down hard on his tongue.
    * * *
    H ER HEART THUDDING against her ribs, Bo looked at the knife in the man’s right hand. Her arm ached from the grip of his fingers digging into her skin. She could feel his dirty fingernails biting into her flesh. Her attempts to talk him into letting her go had fallen on deaf ears.
    Now his gaze followed hers to the knife and back to her face. “That’s right, sweetheart. Unless ya want this blade plunged into yer belly, ya do what I say.”
    His words sent terror shooting through her. She fought to breathe as she met his eyes. Instantly she recoiled at the cold hatred she saw there. She didn’t need a reminder of who this man was and what he was capable of. A man who’d already killed once. A violent criminal.
    â€œWe’re goin’ to walk down to my camp,” he said and tugged on her arm.
    All her instincts told her she had to think of a way to get away from this man. But he was big, a good six foot four or more, and solid as a new barn. Even if she could break free and avoid the knife, she doubted she could outrun him.
    Looking around, she saw that her horse had stayed where the man had dragged her from it. If she could reach her horse—
    â€œAin’t going to happen, so ya might as well put it out of yer pretty little head. You ain’t goin’ nowhere. Yer mine now.”
    She swallowed, terrified at the thought. “They’ll be looking for me. You would have a better chance without