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his voice, she immediately stilled, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Don't let him take me away - please. You promised, remember? I can't--"
"No one's taking you anywhere you don't want to go." He breathed in her scent, wondering how she could still smell so sweet under the sweat and worry she'd been through tonight. Knowing he still had to deal with her father, he stepped back, holding her arms when she would have followed him. "I have to go," he said, regretting the fear that came into her eyes. "Betsy's going to take you to my house. You'll be safe there - he doesn't know where it is."
Monica shook her head, trying to pull out of his grasp. "No. He won't listen to you you can't stop him. I have to get away..."
"You are away, hon." Betsy stepped in, curving an arm around Monica's shoulders and meeting Harley's eye with a slight nod. "You just let my big brother go handle this for you. I know your dad's strong, but Harley here, he's stronger and tougher. He'll take care of you, but he needs to know you're safe." She pulled Monica out of his grip, and Harley watched as Monica looked his sister in the eye, then turned back to pin him with an anxious stare.
"I don't know what to do," she said in a low, even tone. "I want to trust you..."
He glanced over her shoulder. Time was running out. Who knows what other tricks Mr. Burns had up his sleeve? "Just give me a chance," he said, leaning down to place a light kiss on her lips. "If I'm not back in an hour, Betsy will help you get off the ranch without being seen. I promise you'll be safe, no matter what happens."
"One hour," she said, reaching a hand out as if to touch him, then pulling it back. "I-be careful." She turned to Betsy and followed the other woman into a nearby alley, both figures quickly disappearing in the darkness. Exhaling slowly, Harley strode up the street to make sure his lawyers had something to do tomorrow.
* * *
    Fighting the urge to look back, Monica allowed Betsy to pull her between two buildings and down another side street. She wondered what time it was, and automatically looked down at her bare wrist. Saloon girls didn't wear watches. Had it only been hours since Braden had found her? It felt like a lifetime, and a sudden weariness seeped into her bones, slowing her pace with each step. The long train of her gown was draped over her arm, and it felt like it weighed a million pounds.
    "Hey, are you okay?" Betsy's voice startled Monica, and she looked up, surprised at the concern wrinkling the other woman's brow. Why did these people care so much about someone they barely knew, she wondered. She managed to lift her lips in what she hoped looked more like a smile than a grimace.
    "Fine - I'm fine. I think it just finally hit me how tired I am." She forced herself to move a little faster, hoping it wasn't far. Her head was starting to spin a little, and it would be nice to sit down for a few minutes.
Betsy grasped her hand a little more tightly, tugging her forward. "We're almost there..."
    Monica resisted the urge to count the steps as she followed Harley's sister up what looked to be a marble staircase. As they reached the top she finally looked up and stopped, blinking as she tried to take in the enormous mansion before her. Betsy grinned and pulled her toward the heavy wooden door. The slab swung inward and they stepped through the opening into a large, lavish entry hall with burgundy carpet, black brocade walls, and a huge bouquet of fresh flowers on the round table in the center.
"Welcome home, sis."
    Monica stood, slowly turning her head from left to right as she tried to take it all in. Between the dark walls and under a large cut-glass chandelier a massive double staircase with dark wood railings dominated the room. "You live here? For real?"
    Betsy giggled, placing one hand on her hip and swept the other hand out in a dramatic curtsy. "Technically, I work here as a French maid for the guests. This particular building is set up to mimic a palace,