Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Bestselling and award-winning author Beth Wiseman has sold over two million books. She is the recipient of the coveted Holt Medallion, is a two-time Carol Award winner, and has won the Inspirational Reader's Choice Award three times. Her books have been on various bestseller lists, including CBA, ECPA, Christianbook, and Publishers Weekly. Beth and her husband are empty nesters enjoying country life in south-central Texas. Visit her online at BethWiseman.com; Facebook: @AuthorBethWiseman; Twitter: @BethWiseman; Instagram: @bethwisemanauthor

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Need You Now

Thomas Nelson

Chapter One

Nearing the door, she stretched her arm behind her, searching for the knob. She turned it quickly, and at the click of the latch, her trespasser rushed toward her. In one movement, she jumped backward, across the threshold and into the den, slamming the door so hard the picture of the kids fell off the wall. She looked down at Chad, Ansley, and Grace staring up through broken glass, then hurried through the den to the kitchen. Her hand trembled as she unplugged her cell phone and pressed the button to call Brad. Please answer.

It was tax time, so every CPA at her husband's office was working long hours, and for these last weeks before the April deadline, Brad was hard to reach. She knew she wouldn't hear from him until after eight o'clock tonight. And she couldn't go back in her bedroom. What would she have to live without until then? She looked down. For starters, a shirt. She was later than usual getting dressed this morning and had just pulled on her jeans when she'd noticed she wasn't alone.

She let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead. Brad answered on the sixth ring.

"Bradley ..." She only called him by his full name when she needed his full attention.

"What is it, babe?"

She took a deep breath. "There is a snake in our bedroom. A big black snake." She paused as she put a hand to her chest. "In our bedroom."

"How big?"

She'd expected a larger reaction. Maybe her husband didn't hear her. "Big! Very big. Huge, Brad."

He chuckled. "Honey, remember that little snake that got in your greenhouse when we lived on Charter Road in Houston? You said that snake was big too." He chuckled again, and Darlene wanted to smack him through the phone. "It was a tiny little grass snake."

"Brad, you're going to have to trust me. This snake is huge, like five or six feet long." A shiver ran down her spine. "Are you coming home or should I call 9-1-1?"

"What? You can't call 9-1-1 about a snake." His tone changed. "Darlene, don't do that. Round Top is a small town, and we'll be known as the city slickers who called in about a snake."

"Then you need to come home and take care of this." She lifted her chin and fought the tremble in her voice.

Deep breath on the other end of the line. "You know how crazy it is here. I can't leave right now. It's probably just a chicken snake, and they're not poisonous."

"Well, there are no chickens in our bedroom, so it doesn't have any business in there."

"Chad can probably get it out when he gets home from school. Maybe with a shovel or something, but tell him to be careful. Even though they're not venomous, it'd probably still hurt to get bit."

Darlene sighed. "Our girls are going to freak if they come home to find a snake in the house." She turned toward a sound in the entryway. "I'll call you back. There's someone at the door, and I'm standing here in my bra. I'll call you back. Love you." She clicked the phone off, then yelled toward the door, "Just a minute!"

After finding a T-shirt in Ansley's room, she pulled it over her head as she crossed back through the den toward the front door. This was the first visitor she'd had in the two months since they'd moved from Houston. She peeked around the curtain before she opened the door, realizing that her old city habit would probably linger for a while. Out here in the country, there probably wasn't much to worry about, but she was relieved to see it was a woman. A tall woman in a cowgirl hat. She pulled the door open.

"Your Longhorns are in my pasture." The woman twisted her mouth to one side and folded her arms across her chest. "This is the second time they've busted the fence and wandered onto my property."

Darlene thought this cowgirl could have walked straight off the set of any western movie. She was dressed in a long-sleeved denim shirt with her blue jeans tucked into brown boots. She was older than Darlene, possibly midforties, but she was gorgeous with huge brown eyes and blond hair that hung in a ponytail to her waist.

"I'm so sorry." Darlene shook her head. Brad should have never gotten those Longhorns. Neither she nor Brad knew a thing about cows, but Brad had said a move to the country should include some Longhorns. Although it didn't make a lick of sense to her. She pushed the door wide. "I'm Darlene."

The woman shifted her weight but didn't offer a greeting in return. Instead, she stared at Darlene's chest. Darlene waited for the woman to lock eyes with her, and when she didn't, Darlene finally looked down. Her cheeks warmed as she sighed.

"Oh, this is my daughter's shirt." Don't Bug Me! was scrolled across the white T-shirt in red, and beneath the writing was a hideous picture of a giant roach. Darlene couldn't stand the shirt, but twelve-year-old Ansley loved it. "Do you want to come in?" She stepped back.

"No. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to round up your Longhorns and head them back to your pasture. I'll temporarily repair the fence." The woman turned to leave, and it was then that Darlene saw a horse tethered to the fence that divided their property. She stifled a smile. This woman really was a cowgirl.

"Know anything about snakes?" Darlene eased onto the front porch, sidestepping a board she knew was loose. The porch was on their list of things to repair on her grandparents' old homestead.

"What?" The woman turned around as she held a hand underneath the rim of her hat, blocking the afternoon sun.

"I have a snake in my bedroom." Darlene shrugged. "Just wondering if you had any ... any experience with something like that?" She padded down two porch steps in her socks. "I'm not sure I got your name?"

"Layla." She gave a quick wave before she turned to leave again. Darlene sighed. Clearly the woman wasn't interested in being friends. Or helping with the snake. Darlene watched her walk to her horse and put a foot in the stirrup. Then she paused and twisted her body to face Darlene. "What kind of snake?"

Hopeful, Darlene edged down another step. "A big black one."

Layla put her foot back on the ground and walked across the grass toward the porch. Darlene couldn't believe how graceful the tall blonde was, how out of sync her beauty was in comparison to what she was wearing.

"Only thing you really have to worry about around here are copperheads." She tipped back the rim of her hat. "Was it a copperhead?"

At five foot two, Darlene felt instantly inferior to this tall, gorgeous, horse-riding, snake-slaying blonde. She wasn't about to say that she couldn't tell one snake from the other. "I don't think so."

"All I've got is a .22 with me." Layla pointed back to her horse, and Darlene saw a long gun in a holster. "But a .22 will blow a hole through your floor," Layla added. A surreal feeling washed over Darlene. She thought about their previous home in a Houston subdivision, and a woman with a gun on a horse wasn't a sight they would've seen.

"Do you have a pellet gun?" She stopped in front of Darlene on the steps. Darlene was pretty sure that was all they...