Duncan was spying on her.

The cold, clutching feeling in her stomach was one she'd come to know well in the months since Duncan had filed for custody of Daniel. Although the divorce had been no picnic, she'd never been afraid, not then. Only relieved. But that had been before she'd had to consider the unthinkable: the possibility that she could lose Daniel.

I can't lose Daniel. Duncan Grant is not taking my son.

She wouldn't have thought such a thing could happen, never in a million years. She was a good mother. She owned her own ranch—twenty-five acres' worth, tiny by Texas standards, but at least it was paid for—and thanks to the untimely death of her parents in a freeway pileup two years ago, she was also independently well-off. But this was still a good ol' boy's county, and Duncan being a deputy sheriff, he had powerful allies. And now, thanks to that idiot at the feed store who'd lost her order, Duncan might actually have that ammunition he'd been looking for in his battle to win custody of their son.

Because of the delay at the feed store, she was late getting home. Daniel would have been home alone for at least an hour, and although Brooke knew he was an exceptionally responsible child and q