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“I’m sure you were,” she retorted, a faint, sad smile touching her lips. “But I had a lot on my mind right then, and I was in a touchy mood. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Race you to that boulder?”

  Without waiting for a reply, she nudged her horse and took off, her long, shimmering hair flying behind her as her horse thundered down the path.

  Jasper danced in place, impatient to follow, until Josh gave him his head and let him fly.

  By late evening, Josh knew two things: that he’d be willing to empty his bank account for a good, hot shower, and that he couldn’t wait to put on his removable leg brace.

  Tessa had been right.

  Twelve hours of herding cattle over rough country was nothing like a leisurely ride in Central Park. Maneuvering cattle through boulder-strewn pastures and keeping them together across lush, inviting meadows involved speed, agility and endurance, and he was pretty sure that every single muscle he owned was strained to the limit.

  But he would’ve done it all over in a heartbeat.

  No matter what she said, he couldn’t imagine Tessa being able to handle all those cattle without any help. And now, her cattle were on the summer range, and two dozen market-ready steers were in one of the pastures close to the barns, ready to be hauled to auction.

  At the barn, Tessa dismounted lightly. Josh eyed the ground with some trepidation, then eased carefully out of the saddle to avoid landing on his injured leg.

  “I’ll take care of him for you,” she called out as she lugged her tack into the barn.

  He unsaddled Jasper on his own, dropped the saddle on the hitching rail, and led the horse into the corral. As soon as he was free, Jasper circled with his nose to the ground, then rolled vigorously, sending clouds of dust into the air.

  Josh knew exactly how he felt. Smiling, he turned, then stopped.

  Tessa stood in the doorway of the barn, her face pale, and her cell phone at her ear. And given her agitated gestures, something was terribly wrong.

  It wasn’t just the sense of violation at finding her tack room in disarray, with bridle leather slashed and saddles damaged and the phone jerked from the wall. It was the sheer waste of it all. Beautiful equipment, destroyed.

  And then there was her beloved saddle. It had been a gift from Uncle Gray that she’d lovingly preserved, and rarely used. It was the one she’d sacrificed for the ranch, by selling it online, and it was to be shipped tomorrow.

  Only it was gone—stolen by the vandals who had ruined almost every other piece of equipment in the tack room.

  Michael had arrived several hours later to take her statement and write up a report, though that had seemed like yet another exercise in futility. There were far bigger cases to pursue in the county. Arson and burglary and domestic abuse, and she could hardly expect him to be at her constant beck and call.

  What was that report, but just another document that would just sit in a file cabinet? Nothing would change.

  “I don’t understand,” she said bitterly as she and Josh arrived back at the ranch after the cattle auction on Wednesday night. “I’ve done nothing underhanded to anyone. I try to be a good neighbor, and I couldn’t work any harder. Yet every time I turn around, something else happens.”

  Josh reached across the bench seat of the pickup and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to end. Sooner or later, this guy is going to slip up, and he’ll be caught. It’s going to take him a long time to pay restitution, while sitting behind bars. Have you heard anything more from Michael?”

  “Nope. I did an Internet search of tack stores, commercial stables and sales barns in a six-state area, though, and faxed a description of my saddle to every one of them. And, I’m monitoring the online auction sites for saddle listings.”

  “What did your saddle buyer say?”

  “He e-mailed back and said not to worry, but I still have to refund his money. And if the saddle does turn up, it would only be fair to offer it to him again.” She stared out the front window at the dizzying flash of road signs illuminated by the headlights. “At least the cattle sold high enough that I can pay off that bank note tomorrow. Good news, right?”

  It was good news. She ought to be happy. But today, a motorcycle shop in Jackson had called Josh with the news that his Harley was ready to roll…which meant he was closer to leaving.

  Leigh had come out again to check on the pack horses, and one of them had gone into liver failure. If things didn’t improve by tomorrow, it would have to be euthanized rather than to let it suffer. And Danny was still refusing to talk about where he’d been on the day of Edward’s murder.

  So really, what else could possibly go wrong?

  FIFTEEN

  Tessa glanced at her watch, then stepped out of her truck and strode to the Wolf Creek Bank. Five minutes to spare, before her appointment with the loan officer. Then she needed to hurry back to the ranch and get ready for an overnight pack trip with six customers from New Jersey.

  It was an unexpected booking and a welcome, big-ticket sale, and she couldn’t afford to say no.

  After spending a half-hour on the phone yesterday, she tracked down one of the girls who’d worked for her last summer. Kelsey Sanders, a ranch girl with common sense and a lifetime of experience in the area, had just arrived home from her junior year in college, and was more than happy to come back for a summer job.

  Hiring her again was a true blessing, because it was proving nearly impossible to lead trail rides and pack trips, while keeping up with the chores at the ranch. And though Janna hadn’t said anything, it had been over two weeks since Tessa had been able to pick up Claire for a day, to give Janna a breather.

  This afternoon, once Kelsey and the clients were on their way, Tessa could catch up on that responsibility, too.

  “Going somewhere in a hurry?”

  She looked over at the row of pickups diagonally parked along the sidewalk and found Arlen Foreman standing at the door of a smoke-gray Ford, with Whiskey River Outfitters emblazoned on the side. He usually wore an arrogant, self-satisfied smile, but today he looked anything but pleased.

  “Just errands.”

  “I was planning to call you.” His eyes narrowed and he slammed the door shut, then came to stand in front of her on the sidewalk. “Don’t think I’m unaware of what you did, McAllister.”

  A few passersby slowed and gave them both curious looks.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Arlen. Is something wrong?”

  He swore under his breath and took a step closer, so she had to tip her head up to look at him. “Friendly competition is one thing.” His voice grew harsh, and louder, and now people across the street stopped to stare. “But stealing customers—good, long-term customers—is something else.”

  She stood her ground, rather than back away. “Again—I don’t know what you’re talking about. So if you’ll excuse me?”

  She moved to go around him, but he stepped in her way. “I had a group scheduled this week. Six people, for their annual trip. Then I get a call yesterday and they cancel, saying they could get much better guides and a better rate through you.”

  “I did get a call—and I did book a group of six. But they contacted me, not vice versa, and it’s a free country, Arlen. If they were willing to give up their deposit, then they do have a right to change. Maybe they just started cruising Web sites, or something.”

  “You really don’t want me for an enemy, Tessa,” he said, his urbane facade dissolving before her eyes. “I hadn’t been too worried about your little hobby, but when you start pulling this sort of thing, you’re just asking for trouble.”

  Trouble—as in what she’d been having during the past month?

  “Tell me, Arlen,” she lowered her voice and fixed her eyes on his, feeling her anger rise. “What do you know about yellow star thistle?”

  “What?”

  “And what about nice old custom-made saddles—got any extras?”

  He took a half-step back. “I have no idea what you mean. Bu
t believe me, I’m not done talking to you about those customers. You can expect to hear from my lawyer by tomorrow. No underhanded cheat of a—”

  “Stop. Unless you want to hear from my lawyer about slander?”

  The tone always worked on dogs, and it tended to work on men, too. Arlen’s mouth snapped shut, and he glanced around at the growing number of people who were watching them with open curiosity.

  “Your lawyer can visit with me all he wants, because I’ve done nothing wrong.” She lowered her voice even further, for his ears only. “And you can expect a visit from the sheriff, because I think you’ve just made his job a lot easier.”

  This time, she did step around him. Glancing at her watch, she hurried up the steps of the bank and pulled to a halt in front of the receptionist’s desk. “Ellen Miller?”

  The woman looked toward an open office door, where Ellen could be seen standing at her desk with her purse in hand. “I’m not sure. I think she’s just leaving for lunch. Can you come back?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t…and this has to be done today.”

  With a wave of her fingertips, Tessa strode to the office, rapped on the door frame, and walked in.

  Ellen’s automatic smile faltered when Tessa took a chair and sat down. “I’m leaving, Ms. McAllister. You’re late. And I really don’t have any time to discuss loans extensions with you. I think you already have the bank’s answer?”

  “And this is mine—payment in full, and on time.” She rose halfway and handed an envelope across the desk. “It’s a cashier’s check for $14,768.00, from the Salt Creek Sales Barn. I’d like the rest deposited in my savings account.”

  “W-what on earth did you sell?” The other woman fumbled for the backrest of her desk chair and sat down before opening the envelope.

  “Cattle—including a couple of top cows that we were going to use as embryo transfer donors. They went for around $5,000 apiece.”

  Ellen blinked. “Well. This is certainly a surprise.”

  She reached for her phone and punched a button, then talked quietly to someone, twisting a strand of her curly auburn hair around her index finger as she spoke.

  Tessa settled back in her chair, feeling a rush of relief. One problem down, a hundred to go—but with every small victory, the future of the ranch was more secure…

  She idly glanced at the framed college degrees and awards certificates on the walls, and on a bookshelf by the door, the usual display of family photos that seemed to be standard issue in every office. The kids. The dog. Rows of relatives lined up in front of a fireplace, looking stiff and awkward, ready to flinch when the camera flashed.

  In a photo of children playing, she recognized the old Wolf Creek Elementary School in the background. In another, the same kids were on the swings at the town square…

  The receiver of Ellen’s phone dropped noisily in its cradle. “Toni has the loan documents in her files,” Ellen said. “I’m sure you’d like to get this done quickly and be on your way, and I need to leave. Come with me.”

  Ellen ushered her to the other office and made the introduction, then handed Toni the cashier’s check and left.

  The young woman smiled and waved Tessa to a seat next to her desk. “Do you have your checking account number?”

  “I—oops, I left my purse in the other office. I’ll be right back.” Tessa turned on her heel and went next door to Ellen’s office, grabbed her purse from the floor and turned to go…

  She blinked as she passed the bookshelf, then looked back.

  The photos of those children were missing.

  At the sound of tires crunching on gravel, Josh saved the file he was working on and closed the lid of his laptop.

  He was nearly done with his article for the magazine, and now he had only to sort through the hundreds of digital photos he’d been taking. With the deadline just two days away, it would be a relief to get it all finished and e-mailed…and then, maybe, he could try to finagle Tessa into finding some time away from the ranch, just the two of them.

  Here, there were constant interruptions and endless chores, and the stress had to be overwhelming. But away—even if just into town for a quiet dinner—maybe they could sit down and really talk, finally. To settle the past, once and for all, and maybe even set the groundwork for building a deeper relationship.

  Was there any chance, with her?

  With each passing day, he found himself drawn to her all the more. There couldn’t be another woman on the planet as unique as her—so pretty, but without artifice. Intelligent, and driven, and insightful—yet with a tender, sentimental side that she carefully tried to hide.

  He’d seen it in her deep regret over her beloved saddle. Her worries about her mother’s old horse, and the welfare of those pack horses. If someone helped shoulder her burdens and brought love into her life, would she be a happier person?

  Maybe there wasn’t even a chance of becoming a part of her life. He still sensed her wall of reserve and had noticed her veiled expression at times when he caught her looking at him.

  She was probably just counting the days until he could climb on his Harley and head East.

  The sound of women’s voices drifted in through his open windows. Sofia and Claire, he realized as he hobbled to the door of his cabin and stepped outside to say hello.

  Janna was behind the wheel of her truck visiting with them, but drove off a moment later, leaving Claire behind.

  Sofia looked toward him and waved. “I’ll be here all day,” she called out. “Be sure to come over for lunch at noon. And supper, too—I’ll be making enchiladas.”

  “Thanks!” He went back to his laptop to finish the article, but found himself looking out the window, lost in thought.

  Since her husband’s heart attack, Sofia had been welcoming and friendly, though Claire had become increasingly distant—even surly—whenever she saw Josh.

  He understood Alzheimer’s and how it could create such hardships for family members trying to keep their loved ones home. He knew that she must have been a fine woman in her day, and he could handle her narrow-eyed stares and her silence toward him.

  But the sharp, critical way she spoke to Tessa set his teeth on edge. He wanted to defend Tessa. Shelter her from her mother’s behavior. Yet what could he do? It was the older woman’s mental deterioration talking, not the woman she was inside.

  At the sound of footsteps on the porch he looked up. And there was Claire herself, glaring at him through the screen door, as if she’d heard his thoughts and was zeroing in on her newest prey.

  Where was Sofia?

  He set his laptop aside once more and rose. “Um…hello, Claire. Would you like me to walk you back to the house?”

  She silently jerked the door open and came inside, an eerie expression glittering in her eyes. “You think I don’t remember.”

  He tried for a friendly smile. “Remember?”

  “But I do remember—all of us do.” Her voice was flat, oddly monotone, as if she were reciting something from a script. “You’re not welcome here, and you need to leave.”

  He kept his smile in place. “I do plan to leave soon, Claire.”

  “It’s not soon enough!” Her voice rose, and she started across the floor toward him, her face contorted with sudden rage. “You thought you could come here, and ruin things again? Hurt my daughter?”

  He edged over to the coffee table and picked up his cell phone. Holding it at his side, he flipped it open, then he glanced down and speed dialed Tessa’s house. Please Sofia…answer the phone…

  It rang…six, seven times, then the answering machine kicked in. He left a brief message and snapped the cell phone closed, without taking his eyes off Claire. Would Sofia even check messages on Tessa’s phone? Probably not.

  “I’ll be gone very soon,” he said in a low, soothing tone, extending his hands palms up. “I’m only here by accident. I don’t want to harm anyone. Tessa is a friend.”

  He eyed the room for anything she cou
ld use as a weapon, unsure of her intentions. He’d been in a lot of tight situations and could hold his own in a fight. But dealing with an elderly, fragile woman was something else entirely, and he only wanted to keep her from hurting herself.

  “You don’t treat friends like trash.” Her voice turned bitter and her eyes took on a faraway look, as if she were seeing something painful from the past. “You don’t use them and throw them away like garbage.”

  “Of course not, Claire. No good friend would ever do that. And I wouldn’t think of it.” He nodded toward the oak rocking chair in the corner. “Would you like to sit down? I could get you some tea or water.”

  From outside came the distant sound of Sofia’s voice, calling Claire’s name over and over.

  Her attention riveted on Josh, she didn’t appear to hear the housekeeper. “You preyed on my girl,” she snarled. “My innocent daughter.”

  He relaxed a little at that. “Is that what this is about? She and I dated in college. I loved her, Claire, but we broke up.”

  “Loved her? You say you loved her?” Claire’s fists clenched at her sides. “You got her pregnant, and you walked out on her, you lousy excuse for a man.”

  He felt the blood drain from his face. “No…I didn’t.”

  Sofia appeared at the door, her face a mask of worry. “Claire,” she whispered, reaching for the other woman’s arm. “It’s time to go. You’re tired.”

  Claire twisted away and stumbled against the wall, her eyes darting between them. “Tell him,” she ground out. “Tell him what he did.”

  Sofia lifted her pain-filled gaze to meet Josh’s, and in that moment his blood turned to ice and he knew what she was going to say. “I…had no idea.”

  “Claire and Tessa both tried for months to find you. But the college couldn’t give out your information, of course. And apparently you left no forwarding address, because Tessa’s letters all came back.”

  “See! It’s true—and now here you are. Did you think you could use her all over again?” Claire angrily shook off Sofia’s gentle touch. “It won’t happen.”