Dakota Sunrise Read online

  

  Dakota Heat 6

  Dakota Sunrise

  A victim of abuse at the hands of her husband, Deanna Olson suddenly had a way out.

  Once at the ranch in North Dakota, she learned that her uncle had not only sold the ranch to them, but had also given them control of the money he’d left her.

  She hated being dependent on them and learning that her ex-husband headed toward them, she planned her escape.

  Sam Taylor and Carson Wells had no intention of letting her leave.

  They’d heard her uncle’s suspicions about her abuse, but seeing it enraged them and they vowed to not only protect her, but keep her and her daughter at the ranch where they belonged.

  Falling in love with her was easy, but teaching her to trust in that love proved difficult, especially when she’d known only the pain from a man who still posed a threat.

  A threat Sam and Carson wanted very much to meet head-on.

  Genres: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 55,387

  DAKOTA SUNRISE

  Dakota Heat 6

  Leah Brooke

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Dakota Sunrise

  Copyright © 2019 by Leah Brooke

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-626-6

  First Publication: January 2019

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  When Leah’s not writing, she spends time with family and friends and spoils her furbabies.

  For all titles by Leah Brooke, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/leah-brooke

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DAKOTA SUNRISE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  DAKOTA SUNRISE

  Dakota Heat 6

  LEAH BROOKE

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  Deanna Olson reread the letter from her attorney again, her heart pounding furiously.

  Her divorce was final.

  She was free.

  She tucked the letter into her purse and tossed the rest of the mail on the table.

  The bills weren’t her problem anymore.

  She picked up the other letter she’d had to sign for, looking up when her four-year-old daughter came into the room. “Hurry up, baby. Bring your shoes to Mommy so I can help you put them on you.”

  She took precious time to read it again, her eyes burning with tears.

  Her only living relative, her Uncle Don, who’d passed away the previous week, had made her his sole heir.

  She hadn’t known about her uncle’s death until only that morning because Jimmy had showed up when she wasn’t home, taken the call and kept it from her, spitting out the information like venom only that morning.

  He’d waited until after the funeral was over to tell her about it, getting pleasure at knowing that he’d hurt her.

  Her uncle owned a ranch in North Dakota—a ranch she’d apparently inherited.

  She had a place to go, and with the money she’d managed to steal from Jimmy’s wallet over the last several months and the few things she’d managed to sell at the consignment shop, she finally had enough for bus tickets and could escape.

  The sound of squealing tires had her spinning abruptly and rushing to the front window, her heart in her throat when she saw that it was Jimmy.

  Shoving the certified letter into a hidden pocket in her purse, she watched Jimmy get out of his car, which he’d driven onto the front lawn, gulping when she saw the look on his face.

  He was furious.

  Not bothering to close the car door, he staggered around the car toward the front door, obviously more drunk than usual.

  “Mommy?”

  Spinning toward her daughter, Deanna fought to keep her voice calm. “Casey, go to your room and stay there.”

  “I thought we was yeaving, Mommy.”

  Rushing to her daughter, she turned her and nudged her toward the hallway. “Daddy’s here. Go to your room.”

  Casey paled, once again filling Deanna with guilt. “Is he mad, Mommy?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry about it.”

  “I wanna yeave, Mommy.”

  “We will, but later. Hurry.”

  Deanna gave her daughter another nudge just as the front door burst open. “Hurry!”

  It saddened her even more that her daughter knew what to do when Jimmy came home drunk.

  She rushed to the kitchen, hoping that if it looked as if she was cooking dinner, he would go watch television, but she knew as soon as he staggered through the doorway, his eyes narrowed with rage, that not much would stop him.

  She could run away, but it would mean leaving Casey behind, something she would never do.

  “So, bitch, you think a divorce means you can get away from me?”

  He moved faster than she’d expected and grabbed her wrist, twisting it as he punched her, knocking her to the floor.

  She heard her wrist snap a second before searing pain raced up her arm and, unable to break her fall, hit the floor hard.

  She’d tried to hold back her cry of pain, but it proved too intense and sudden, his kicks to her side even more surprising.

  She strongly suspected he’d broken her wrist as every jarring movement sent sharp pain—excruciating pain—through it and up her arm.

  Stunned, she could do nothing more than lie there while he kicked her several more times, struggling to come to grips with the pain in her wrist.

  From her position on the floor and partially under the table, she saw Casey standing in the doorway holding on to her stuffed bear.

  The sight of her daughter gave Deanna the courage she needed.

  “Stop it, Jimmy. The judge told you to stay away from us!” She made her voice as strong as possible, but it came out breathless from the pain and the fact that he’d knocked the breath from her.

  “I don’t care what that fucking judge says. You’re not gettin’ away from me!” He kicked her already sore side again, thankfully not even noticing their daughter standing behind him.

  Breathing a sigh of relief when she saw through swollen eyes that her daughter took off to her hiding place, Deanna bit back the screams and cries of pain that she knew Jimmy wanted.

  “I divorced you, Jimmy
!”

  “Bitch! You’re not divorcing me. You’re mine, and you’re staying mine!”

  Deanna couldn’t hold back a cry when he kicked her in the side again, his kick jarring her wrist and sending pain shooting up her arm.

  “No. Jimmy. I’m not yours. Not anymore.”

  She hated the tears in her voice and hoped Casey couldn’t hear her.

  She focused on the certified letter and the hope it promised, holding on to the promise of escape like a lifeline as he kicked her again.

  “You’re mine! You’re stayin’ mine!”

  I can finally escape.

  He was too drunk to beat her for long and had apparently worn himself out.

  He stumbled, grabbing the countertop for support. “Wake me up when my dinner’s ready.”

  Not bothering to remind him that he no longer lived there, she stayed on the floor until he left the room, knowing from experience that if she got up, he would just knock her down again.

  He never left while she was standing.

  He stumbled down the hallway, cursing despite the fact that their daughter could hear him.

  Using her good arm for leverage, she slowly got to her feet, mentally tracking his progress past Casey’s bedroom and to the room she hadn’t shared with him in more than a year. Dizzy, she held on to the overturned chair, taking several deep breaths to clear her head before gripping the edge of the table.

  Holding her wrist to her chest, she went to the sink and wiped her face as gingerly as she could with a dish towel, not wanting to scare Casey with her tears and the blood she felt trickling from the corner of her mouth from her cut lip.

  She gingerly touched the dish towel to her eye where he’d punched her, fighting back a whimper at the pain.

  More worried about her wrist and her ribs, she moved slowly, quietly, from the kitchen, wincing at the sound of her bedroom door being slammed.

  Knowing Casey wouldn’t come out until she went to get her, Deanna crept unsteadily down the hallway, one eye on the door to the master bedroom as she made her way as quickly as she could to her daughter’s bedroom.

  She found Casey just where she’d expected to—hiding under the comforter Deanna left in a heap in the corner of her daughter’s closet.

  Her heart breaking at what her daughter had endured, Deanna silently vowed to give her daughter a better life.

  She finally had the chance, and she would let nothing stop her.

  Forcing herself to keep her voice at a calm whisper, Deanna held back a moan as she bent low and used her uninjured hand to uncover her daughter. “It’s okay, sweetie. Come on out. Be really quiet. Mommy needs your help.”

  Her daughter’s wide, red-rimmed eyes met hers. “Did Daddy go away?”

  Shaking her head, Deanna kept her injured wrist held protectively in front of her and helped her daughter out of the closet.

  The movement jarred her wrist, sending more pain shooting up her arm.

  Stiffening with the effort of holding back the pain, Deanna struggled to keep her voice at a low whisper. “He’s sleeping. We have to be real quiet so we don’t wake him up. Can you be a big girl and put your shoes on for me?”

  After helping her daughter as much as she could using one hand, Deanna dragged the bag she’d packed from under Casey’s bed. “Stay with Mommy and be as quiet as you can. Hold on to Pookey Bear.”

  Her daughter tightly gripped the stuffed bear and held on tightly to Deanna’s pant leg.

  After silently making their way back toward the living room, Deanna slung the bag over her shoulder, ignoring the pain as she grabbed her purse and led her daughter out the front door and to freedom.

  Once they stopped at the hospital and she made a police report, she stuffed all the papers in the small plastic bag they’d given her, along with the pain medication she didn’t dare take, and walked past the admission desk and toward the exit.

  She’d spent hours in the emergency room and getting her wrist x-rayed, set, and casted, and darkness had already fallen.

  She was tired. Shaky. Nervous. Excited.

  She had her whole life ahead of her. All she had to do was get away.

  She dreaded sitting at the bus station all night, but she didn’t have enough money for gas and food to make the journey in her car.

  Jimmy’s car.

  Hearing her name spoken in a deep, masculine voice, she sucked in a breath and gripped Casey’s hand tighter, turning to see the two men standing at the desk—men she didn’t recognize.

  Panicked at the knowledge that the two large men, each larger than Jimmy, appeared to be looking for her, Deanna hurried her steps, keeping a tight grip on Deanna’s hand.

  “Mommy! That hurts.”

  “There she is!”

  Both men turned toward her, and only then did she see the true size of them and the fact that both carried cowboy hats held at their sides.

  One had shoulder-length dark hair and dark piercing eyes that, even from a distance, seemed to see into her soul.

  The other man, with dark blond hair and glittering green eyes, started toward her, his powerful stride appearing so threatening that she found herself hurriedly stepping back.

  His eyes widened, and to her surprise, he stopped abruptly. “Deanna? Deanna Olson? Don Baker’s niece?”

  Deanna shifted her gaze to the other man as he approached, shifting back to the other man as she pressed against the wall behind her. Wrapping her good hand around Casey, she kept her daughter pulled back against her. “Yes. Who are you? What do you want?”

  He smiled at Casey and lifted his hands slightly as if to show that he was no threat. “My name is Sam. Sam Taylor.” Not taking his eyes from hers, he gestured toward the other man. “This is Carson Wells. We were both friends of your uncle’s.”

  Although he no longer moved forward, Deanna got the distinct impression that he desperately wanted to.

  The anger in his eyes when he let his gaze rake over her bruised face and broken wrist had her stiffening painfully.

  She played the names over and over in her mind, suddenly remembering. “Yes. My uncle told me about both of you.”

  You can trust Sam and Carson, Deanna.

  Okay, Uncle Don.

  I mean it.

  I know that, but when would I ever see them? When would I need to trust them?

  Who knows? But I want you to promise me that when the time comes, you’ll trust them. Both of them. They’ll do the right thing by you.

  I don’t understand. Trust them with what?

  Everything, and you’ll understand when the time comes. Promise me, Deanna.

  I promise.

  “Good. Are you ready?”

  Deanna blinked. “Ready for what?”

  “To leave Mississippi. Your home’s in North Dakota now.”

  Glancing down at Casey and unsurprised at how intently her daughter watched Sam and Carson, Deanna sighed. “I don’t know what you’re doing here. I was going to take a bus to the ranch. I missed his funeral. I’m sorry. I didn’t find out until this morning.”

  Sam glanced at Carson. “We figured that. When I called to tell you about your uncle, he answered and wouldn’t put you on the phone.”

  Carson spoke for the first time. “So we came to get you.”

  “How did you know where to find me?”

  His eyes narrowed as if daring her to argue about it. “Stopped by the house.” He glanced at Casey. “Lots of flashing lights. Apparently the police you talked to here went out there. Once we explained things, one of them told us where to find you.”

  He took a step closer and crouched in front of Casey. “Hey, Lil’ bit. You ready to go for a ride?”

  Casey backed up, pressing against Deanna’s legs. “No. I stay wif Mommy.”

  Carson’s tender smile transformed his features from hard and cold to breathtaking affection. “I would never take a little girl away from her mommy. Your mommy’s coming with us.”

  Casey hugged her bear tighter and str
aightened. “Where we goin’?”

  Surprised that Casey spoke to him and had actually moved closer, Deanna slid a hand over her daughter’s hair. “We’re going to a ranch, sweet pea.”

  “What’s a ranch?”

  Carson gave Casey another smile that made Deanna’s pulse trip. “It’s a big place with lots of land and horses. It’s getting ready to snow there, so we’d better get moving.”

  “Snow?” Casey turned to look up with wide eyes at Deanna, inadvertently gripping her hand below the cast. “Mommy! I wanna see snow!”

  Unable to hold back a gasp, Deanna gently worked her daughter’s fingers from hers. “We will, sweetie.”

  Sam stepped forward abruptly, holding her forearm over her sling, his eyes dark with concern. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Carson got to his feet, giving another smile to Casey, his own gaze concerned. “We have to be careful with Mommy.”

  Nodding, Casey gently touched Deanna’s cast. “Mommy has a boo-boo. The doctor took a picture and then put a bandage on it. The nurse gave me a wowipop.”

  Carson chuckled. “A grape one.”

  Casey’s eyes went wide again. “How did you know? Are you magic?”

  “I have my moments.” Carson turned to Deanna. “You look like you’re in pain. Didn’t they give you any painkillers?”

  Deanna forced a smile, exhaustion making her legs shake. “The doctor gave me a prescription, but I didn’t want to take anything.”

  Sam scowled, his expression making him appear even more intimidating. “Why the h—” He glanced at Casey. “Why not?”

  “Because I’d planned to spend the night in a bus station and then on a bus filled with strangers. I have a four-year-old to look after, and I’d rather stay alert.”

  Sam inclined his head. “Understandable, but that issue no longer applies. Where’s your prescription? In here?”

  Deanna nodded, frowning when he took the plastic bag containing her hospital paperwork and a copy of the police report she’d made. “Yes. I’ll—”