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“It’s going to be all right, Cassie. I promise you I’m going to catch the person who killed Sam. You just have to stay strong.”
“I’m so tired of being strong.” Her breath was a warm caress in the crook of his neck. “I should just sell out and go back home.”
Dillon dropped his arms from around her and took a step backward. “I wouldn’t make any life-altering decisions right now, Cassie.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and stared up at him. “I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like this town, this land, is telling me to get out.” She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Get some rest and I’ll be back out here in the morning.”
Minutes later Dillon was in his car and headed to the Breckenridge ranch to talk to Butch Cooper, but his thoughts remained on Cassie.
It had been years since he’d been drawn to a woman by some magnetic pull he didn’t understand, but that was how he felt where Cassie was concerned.
Something drew him to her in spite of all the warning signals that went off in his head. He’d given away his heart once. He’d planned his future with his high school sweetheart, Stacy, and had begun to build dreams. However, life in Bitterroot—life with him—hadn’t been exciting enough to keep her happy.
Dillon had a feeling Stacy and Cassie were cut from the same cloth and the last thing he wanted or needed in his life was a new heartbreak.
He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel and attempted to consciously shove thoughts of Cassie away. He had a murderer to catch and an old mystery to solve in order to finally silence the seven souls who haunted his dreams with the need for justice.
* * *
He leaned against the side of the house, his chest tight and his heart beating a hundred miles a minute. It was only natural that Dillon would give Cassie a hug under the circumstances. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything because Cassie belonged to him.
She didn’t know it yet, but she’d belonged to him since the moment she’d arrived on this ranch. She was his angel, a woman who embodied everything he’d ever dreamed about.
In the months since she’d taken over the ranch she hadn’t dated anyone. It was as if she was keeping herself pure and untouched just for him, and sooner or later he’d speak of his love for her, but not yet.
Thank God Dillon hadn’t kissed her. He didn’t know what he’d have done if the lawman’s mouth had taken what belonged to him.
His heart slowed its beat and he left the side of the house, using the night shadows to stay concealed.
He’d loved and protected Big Cass Holiday when she’d been alive. His love for Cassie was different than the maternal love he’d had for her aunt. It was the love of a man for his mate and he intended to protect Cassie from anyone who might wrong or disrespect her.
That was why Sam had to die. He’d made a crude comment about wanting to get Cassie alone and naked in the hay. Sam had gotten what he deserved, as had all the other teenagers who’d come to work on the ranch, boys whom he’d had to kill so long ago.
The only thing that bothered him now was hearing Cassie say that she should sell the place and leave. Surely she was only feeling that way because of Sam’s murder. She wouldn’t really follow through. It would be a betrayal to her dead aunt, but more important it would be a betrayal to all the men who worked for her.
He refused to believe that she would make such a decision. She belonged here and eventually she’d realize that her future was with him right here on the Holiday ranch.
Chapter 3 (#u09018034-5341-5974-b3a2-1c1ab375afc1)
Cassie sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of her. Dawn light was just peeking over the horizon and she’d been awake for hours.
It had been about three when she’d awakened from a horrible nightmare. An ax-wielding dark shadow had been chasing her around the house and she’d jerked awake just before he caught her.
For the next couple of hours she’d tossed and turned in an effort to go back to sleep, but she’d finally given up and gotten out of bed. She’d showered quickly, and then had dressed in a pair of jeans and a light pink sweatshirt and had come downstairs.
Now, instead of ax murderers, her head was filled with thoughts of Dillon. Despite her sadness over Sam’s murder, she’d liked the feel of Dillon’s arms around her the night before. The scent of his cologne had become familiar to her and as she’d buried her head against him, the fragrance had comforted her. And stirred more than a little bit of desire in her.
She’d wanted him to kiss her, and yet she knew it was foolish even to think about a romantic relationship with anyone here in Bitterroot. She didn’t know if she intended to stay here or go back to her old life and her dreams in New York City.
She leaned forward and took a sip of her now-cold coffee. The big two-story house was silent and she’d never felt so unsettled and so alone.
She’d arrived on the ranch in the spring with her best friend and partner, Nicolette Kendall, and her young son. Nicolette and Sammy had taken to ranch life as if they’d been born here.
It hadn’t taken Nicolette long to catch the eye of Lucas Taylor, one of the cowboys who worked for Cassie. They were now happily married and Cassie was miserably alone.
It wasn’t that Cassie wasn’t happy for her friend. She was thrilled that Nicolette had found true love and happiness. Cassie just wished she knew where she belonged in the grand scheme of life.
Was it here on this ranch in this small town, or did her destiny lay in New York City where she could pursue her dreams of being a famous artist?
She’d love to pick up the phone and call Nicolette, but she knew her friend would be busy with her family. Cassie wished she had the kind of relationship with her mother where she could pick up the phone and get her guidance. Her parents had pretty well written her off when she’d dropped out of college and refused to go to law school and join the family legal firm.
She cast her gaze out the window, unsurprised to see Adam walking toward the house as the sun rose above the horizon. He’d be startled to find her up and dressed and with the coffee already made.
It was their habit that he let himself inside in the mornings, made the coffee and then waited for her to join him for the daily ranch update. Apparently, even a brutal murder didn’t change the routine on a ranch.
Morning greetings were exchanged and then Adam joined her at the table with a cup of coffee. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess,” she replied. “Although I’m still horrified and saddened by Sam’s death.”
“We all are. Dillon said he’d be back here around eight this morning to talk to some more of the men. He’s wasting his time. He won’t find his answers here.”
“I told him as much yesterday.” She got up from the table to get a fresh cup of coffee, fighting against the memory of being held far too briefly in the lawman’s arms.
“I still think he’d better be looking hard at Butch Cooper,” Adam said when she was seated once again. “Amanda was flirting pretty hardcore with Sam at the party and Butch might be an easygoing guy, but he didn’t look all that happy.”
“I’m sure Dillon is going to explore all the possibilities.”
“Yeah, I just wish he’d stop focusing so much attention on us.” Adam took a sip from his cup and then guided his attention out the window. “Anything that happens around here, he’s always quick to interrogate all of us.”
“He’s just doing his job, Adam.”
He focused his gaze back on her and smiled. “I know. It’s just frustrating. He’s had his eye on us since those skeletons were discovered. Whatever happened to those teenagers happened before we all got here. All the men who grew up here on the ranch are good, solid people. You should know that by now.”
She returned his smile. “Believe me, I do.”
For the next twenty minutes he filled her in on the ranch business. Over the past six months Cassie had learned more about cattle than she’d ever wanted to know, but this was her life at the moment.
As Adam droned on about plans for the upcoming winter months, Cassie’s mind remained on the murder and what it meant for her future.
There was no way she could sell the property and leave for New York right now. Legally she was as much a suspect as anyone else that had attended the party, although surely nobody would really believe she’d had anything to do with Sam’s murder.
“Cassie?”
Adam’s voice pulled her out of her own head. “Sorry, what did you say?” she replied.
“I know you have a lot on your mind, so I’ll just get out of your hair and get to work.” He stood, drained his coffee cup and then carried it over to the sink. “I’ll check in with you later in the day after Dillon has conducted the rest of his interviews.”
“Thanks, Adam.” She didn’t bother getting up. Once Adam was gone she remained at the table until Dillon’s car appeared in the drive by the back door.
As he stepped out of the car, the hint of heat she always felt when around him whispered through her. He approached the house and knocked on the back door.
“It’s open,” she yelled. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said when he stepped into the kitchen.
“Then stop having murder victims on your property,” he replied.
“Trust me, I’d love to stop.” She motioned to the coffeepot. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks, but I’m good. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be around here most of the day.”
“Did you find out anything yesterday that might help you solve this?”
His eyes were steel-gray and troubled. “Cassie, we aren’t going to solve this in a day. We have a barn full of people to interview and little physical evidence.”
“I know.” She blew out a sigh. “People were already talking about this land being damned because of the seven skeletons that were found here.”
“Your land isn’t damned and you know I’ve been working as hard as I can to solve the mystery of those skeletons. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to solve a fifteen-year-old crime where I only have one potentially important clue.”
Cassie straightened in her chair. “An important clue? Tell me, Dillon, what is it?” Was it really possible that he could solve the crime? Could he finally give peace to the seven young men who had been murdered?
Dillon frowned and shifted from one foot to the other, obviously contemplating whether to tell her or not. “You can’t share this with anyone,” he finally said.
“I promise,” she replied.
“It’s a man’s ring. When we were excavating the graves, in the bottom of one was a gold ring with an onyx stone. I believe it slipped off the killer’s finger when he was burying one of the bodies.”
“Was there any DNA on it?”
“Whatever was there was so contaminated nothing was usable.” He took a step toward the back door. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll talk to you later this afternoon.” With that he turned and left the house.
Through the window Cassie watched him walk toward the barn. She couldn’t help but notice how good his butt looked in his uniform pants. He was definitely hot.
She’d never heard any gossip about who he dated, and this was a small town that loved their gossip. All she really knew about Dillon Bowie was that he was well respected by everyone in Bitterroot and lived on a small farmstead on the other side of town. And she had the hots for him.
Restless energy surged up inside her. She got up from the table and put the coffee cups in the dishwasher. The ring of the doorbell whirled her around.
Who on earth could that be? She didn’t think anyone had ever come to the front door since she’d moved in. Everyone used the back door when they visited.
She hurried through the great room and into the smaller, more formal living room, where she could see through a side window that Raymond Humes stood on the porch.
She stifled a groan. That man was the last person on earth she wanted to see this morning. She opened the door and greeted him through the screen. “Good morning, Mr. Humes. What can I do for you?”
The silver-haired thin man smiled, the gesture doing nothing to warm the cold of his close-set dark eyes. “It isn’t what you can do for me. It’s about what I can do for you. May I come in?”
Cassie hesitated. She knew why he was here. The seventysomething-year-old man was like a vulture sensing death and waiting to capitalize on any weakness. She finally opened the screen door to allow him inside.
She refused to lead him into the heart of the house and instead gestured to the small floral sofa just inside the front door. She sat on the edge of the wing-backed chair facing him.
He swept his dusty brown cowboy hat off his head. “I was sorry to hear about poor Sam’s unfortunate demise,” he began. “You do realize this is only going to add a new blight on this ranch that will make it even more difficult for you to sell.”
“I’ve told you several times I’m not ready to sell at this point in time,” she replied.
“You aren’t going to get a better offer than mine,” he said with a confidence that irritated her.
“I’m not interested in any offer right now and did you know some of your ranch hands crashed my barn dance the other night?”
Raymond chuckled. “Hardly a crime. I found it hard to believe that you wouldn’t invite me and my men to the shindig being that we’re neighbors and all.”
“Your men and mine aren’t really friendly,” she replied as she stood.
“I’ve never understood that,” he said in bemusement.
She understood. According to her men, Humes’s ranch hands had stolen cattle, set malicious fires and done sundry other things to her ranch.
“I’ve got a lot of things going on right now, Mr. Humes. I appreciate you stopping by, but I’m not interested in any offer you might make me on this place.” She glanced pointedly at the door.
Raymond laughed once again as he rose from the sofa. “Sooner or later you’ll be interested. I’m the only person around these parts who has the kind of money you’ll want to rid yourself of this one-horse town and get back to New York City, where those fancy jeans of yours belong.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied.
She breathed a sigh of relief when he walked out the door. He was probably pleased that another murder had taken place on her property. He probably thought this newest tragedy would make her desperate to sell out to him and leave Bitterroot.
She had to admit there was a part of her that would like to cut and run. However, selling out to Raymond Humes would be such a betrayal to Aunt Cass, who had left her the ranch.
More important, it would be a huge betrayal to the men who worked here, men who embraced her as their own the minute she’d stepped into her aunt’s very large shoes.
And one of them might be a killer.
The words jumped unbidden into her head. No, there was no way Dillon or anyone else could ever make her believe that. She refused to believe that for the last six months she’d been living here with a vicious killer. Her cowboys were good, kind and hardworking men.
Still, a faint chill accompanied her as she locked the front door and then returned to the kitchen.
* * *
It was just after four when Dillon finished interviewing for the day. He’d spent most of the morning inside the barn with a couple of his best men, seeking anything that might be a clue. It had been a fruitless search.
Finally, after noon he pulled in three of the last six cowboys to talk to. He’d hoped to get something, at least a little nugget of information that might move the case forward, but that hadn’t happened.
Over and over again he heard that Sam had fit in with them all just fine, that nobody had seen anything at the party indicating a problem between the dead man and anyone else other than Butch.
There were still many avenues to explore, but Dillon felt in his gut that the answers not only to Sam’s murder, but also to the murders that had taken place years ago, lay right here on the Holiday ranch.
As he headed to the house a weariness weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was the same disillusionment that had been with him since the day the seven bodies had been unearthed.
Dillon considered himself a good lawman, but the seven unsolved mysteries had left him feeling inadequate. It was an emotion that brought up old, bad memories. He shoved them aside as he reached the back door.
He’d been kicking himself all day for sharing with Cassie the information about the ring that had been found in the grave. He should have never confided in her. While he trusted that she would keep the information to herself, it had been unprofessional of him to tell her.
