Millionaire in a Stetson by Barbara Dunlop

what?” Reed challenged. “For another lie? I don’t think so.” He turned on his heel and stomped from the room.
    Katrina looked distressed and confused. But she quickly followed her husband.
    Niki clenched her jaw, determined not to cry. She gripped the arm of the sofa, preparing to rise, hoping her legs would hold her. She wished she could walk straight out the front door. But her purse was upstairs in one of the bedrooms. She needed that at the very least.
    She stood. She wasn’t sure how she’d get the rest of her things from the Terrells’ ranch, but she’d have to work that out later. Right now, getting herself out of here was as much as she could manage.
    “What are you doing?” Seth demanded as she took a step toward the formal staircase.
    “I am so sorry,” she managed, her voice cracking ever so slightly with the effort. “I need my things.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “Upstairs.” She didn’t know what she’d do if he threw her directly out the front door.
    “Sit down,” he told her.
    She hesitated.
    “I don’t care how angry Reed gets. This is my house, and you’re welcome here.”
    Her knees wobbled. “But…” She gazed into Seth’s face. “I don’t understand.”
    His voice went soft, his expression turning patient. “And neither do I. And that’s why you’re going to explain it to me.”
    Niki had no idea what to say. “You’re not angry?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t yet know what you did.” He gestured to the sofa behind her. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me?”
    Her glance went reflexively to the archway where Reed and then Katrina had disappeared.
    “Don’t worry about them,” said Seth.
    “I’m very worried about them.”
    It didn’t matter how much more she explained to Seth. The damage was done. Reed wasn’t going to get over this. He was never going to forgive her for lying.
    “Sit,” Seth told her gently.
    She did so.
    Seth took the other end of the sofa.
    She waited for a question, but he seemed to be waiting for an answer.
    She cracked first. “My name is Niki Gerard,” she began a little shakily. “My mother was Gabriella Gerard. She did just die, and I found out about Wilton and Reed and Caleb from her papers, exactly as I said. But it was in D.C., not Boston. And I came here.” A soft sob escaped from her throat, and it took her a minute to recover. “I came here because I was afraid to stay in D.C.”
    The words began to pour out of Niki, her mother’s affairs, the danger of the secrets the men had apparently revealed, judges, politicians, millionaires. She told him about the missing diary and her growing fear for her own safety.
    “When I first met Reed and Caleb,” she said, “they were strangers. I knew people were after me, people with the resources to comb the world if they wanted. I didn’t dare use my passport, my driver’s license, my credit cards. I couldn’t board a plane or rent a car or get a hotel room. I couldn’t tell anyone, anyone, who I was.”
    Her throat was aching, and her voice fell away.
    “Why now?” asked Seth.
    “Why now?” came a second voice overtop.
    Niki glanced up to find Katrina standing in the archway.
    “Why tell us now?” she repeated.
    “I felt guilty,” said Niki. “I’ve felt guilty for a very long time. But when the truck washed away tonight, and I thought I might die, I knew you had to know. You have the right to know what I’ve done, who I am.”
    “Who’s after you?” came Reed’s deep voice, and he emerged from the shadows.
    He still looked angry, every six-feet-four, muscle-bound inch of him.
    Niki had to force herself to speak. “I don’t know. I couldn’t find the diary and my mother didn’t speak about her private matters. I don’t know even know what the secrets were. If I could find the diary, at least I could narrow it down.”
    “You’ve searched your mother’s house? All the obvious places?” asked Seth.
    Niki nodded.
    “Could someone have stolen