Julia hugged her denim jacket to her chest. The daytime temperatures reached a comfortable seventy-two degrees today, but the nights dropped to the forties…and she hadn’t planned on being outside during the night.

The red lights from the fire engines played across the hotel guests’ shocked faces. People in various stages of undress scattered along the sidewalk across the street from the hotel, which had black smoke billowing out of one side.

The side where she and Ryder had their rooms.

Ryder snaked an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him for warmth. She said, “I’m glad you woke up. I was sound asleep. I didn’t even hear the fire alarm.”

She covered her mouth. She did hear the fire alarm, but she’d incorporated it into her dream. The dream of a small house exploding and a man rushing out of that house to drag her back inside. Jeremy. She couldn’t see his face in the dream, either. Under hypnosis she’d recalled a fight. Was that fight between her and Jeremy? She shivered, but not from the cold this time.

“Are you all right?” Ryder squeezed her closer. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Since Ryder couldn’t be thinking about her dream, she shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“That we’ll have to find another place to sleep tonight.” He patted the back pocket of his jeans. “At least I had time to grab my wallet and ID.”

Clutching Ryder’s arm, she coughed at the smoky air filling her lungs. “That’s not what you meant. You think someone set this fire on purpose. The same someone who slashed your tires.”

“The thought crossed my mind when I heard one of the firemen mention arson. The fire started in the laundry room, which was beneath our room. Dr. Brody knew we were spending the night. Maybe he followed us here.”

“That’s crazy.” She shrugged out of the arm encircling her. “Jim might have a small crush on me, but he’s not a lunatic.”

“Julia, psychologists are not supposed to have crushes on their patients, small or otherwise. How come the guy hasn’t been able to help you recover one memory in over three years? Think about it.”

“Do you think he’s running over to Silverhill to leave me flowers and paw through my underwear, too?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, that’s enough. No more talk about Jim being a crazed stalker. I’m cold, I’m tired and I want to go home.” She clenched her jaw to stop the flow of childish complaints. Ryder had suffered as much as she.

And she hadn’t wanted to go home as long as she’d snuggled next to him on the bed scarfing up jelly beans and laughing at silly pratfalls. She hadn’t wanted to move one inch until this latest catastrophe.

Did her secret admirer plan to pull her and Ryder apart with this fire? She hugged herself. Secret admirers didn’t slash tires or set fires. His actions today catapulted him from secret admirer to scary stalker. How much farther would he go?

“I’m sorry.” Ryder took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m not here to try and convict Brody, and the fire could be a coincidence. Let’s check in with the desk clerk. He’s on his cell phone finding rooms for all the guests.”

Julia stood close to Ryder as the clerk made arrangements to book them into two rooms a mile away. She surveyed the people on the sidewalk, faces distorted by the revolving red and blue lights, gathered to watch the firemen extinguish the last of the flames.

Was one of them responsible for the fire? Did the crowd conceal her stalker? She curled her fingers around Ryder’s belt loop as a scary thought flashed through her mind, giving her goose bumps.

What if she didn’t even know her stalker?

What if he was a stranger?

“I GOT SOMETHING for you on Dr. James Brody.”

Ryder gripped the cell phone, his pulse quickening. “Hold on just a minute, Wade.”

The din of his father and older brother, Rod, arguing in the kitchen assaulted his ears, and his stepmother’s voice on the phone arguing with a member of her charitable committee made him cringe. So much for a relaxing leave in the bosom of his family.

Ryder pushed up from the sofa and headed outside so he could hear what Wade Parker, his FBI buddy, had to say about Dr. Jim Brody.

He leaned against the front porch railing, hitching his boot up on the ledge. “Whaddya got? Does he have a record?”

“No, he has a censure.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“The American Board of Professional Psychologists censured Dr. Brody for exhibiting inappropriate behavior with a patient.”

“What did he do?” Ryder clenched his jaw. If Brody turned out to be Julia’s tormenter, he’d personally make sure he couldn’t practice his “talking profession” for a long time.

“He allowed a patient to spend the night at his house when she left her husband.”

Ryder exhaled. Brody may be unethical, but that didn’t mean he sliced up women’s panties for kicks. “Did he advise his patient to leave her husband? No conflict of interest there.”

“I don’t know anything else, man. Those psychologists have a lot of rules governing them, and Brody broke this particular rule. I don’t know if he went on to have a relationship with this woman or not.”

“Okay, I appreciate it, Wade.”

“I can tell by your voice you expected deeper, darker deeds from this guy, but that’s all he’s got on his record. Is he someone we need to watch?”

No, Brody was someone he needed to watch. “I was just curious. He’s my…friend’s therapist and seems a little too invested in her welfare.”

Ryder ended the call and drilled the mountain landscape with his gaze. Could it be that simple? One overly enthusiastic psychologist with a loose grasp on ethical conduct? It sure as hell didn’t feel simple to Julia, but the alternatives sucked the air out of his lungs.

Who murdered Jeremy and did the killer know Julia witnessed it? Maybe her amnesia saved her life. Would regaining her memory endanger it?

He glanced at his watch. He’d invited Julia and Shelby to the ranch to give Shelby a riding lesson. Ever since the incidents in Durango two days ago, he’d set himself up as Julia’s protector. She didn’t seem to mind. She used their time together to pepper him with questions about her past, and he filled her in…up to a point.

He didn’t want to spring Shelby ’s paternity on Julia just yet. She needed time. Oh hell, he needed time. Was he ready to be a father? Was Julia ready to give Shelby a father? She’d admitted to him that she felt a guilty relief at the news that she was a widow. She didn’t want to share Shelby with a stranger.

By the time he told Julia they had a daughter together, he wouldn’t be a stranger anymore. He’d make sure of that.

A car’s engine buzzed in the distance, and he saw the cloud of dirt rise at the end of the drive before he spotted Julia’s little silver car.

She pulled up behind his truck with the four new tires and hopped out, waving. She opened the back door of her car, and Shelby scrambled out of her car seat. Shelby ’s small legs churned, propelling her up the wooden steps of the porch.

“Am I going to ride a pony?” She tugged at his hand while she planted one foot on his boot.

He lifted her high and shook her back and forth. “You sure are, and I know just the pony.”

“Silverbell.” The screen door banged behind him, and his father stepped onto the porch. Dad chucked Shelby under the chin. “Hey there, little lady. Ready for your first riding lesson?”

“Skipper.” The screen door banged again, and Rod joined them on the porch, folding his arms across his chest. “Skipper’s a better choice for Shelby. She’s only what, four years old?”

Ryder rolled his eyes at Julia, leaning against her car grinning. His father and Rod would argue about the color of the sky.

“Three and a half.” Shelby snatched the hat from Ryder’s head.