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She was tough. And independent and brave, she reminded herself as she reached for the handle of the door. But before she could close her fingers around the knob, it turned and the door opened.
A dark shadow loomed in the doorway above her. There was a light burning in the house behind him, but the dim glow only cast his face more in shadows as his wide shoulders filled the doorway.
Remembering River’s advice to use the pepper spray next time, she fumbled with the canister, but it slipped through her grasp and tumbled down the steps. Then she lost her footing, as well. Arms swinging, she began to fall backward just as that shadow reached toward her.
She must have screamed herself out earlier because even though she opened her mouth, no sound emanated from her hoarse throat. She could only gasp as she fell.
Chapter 3 (#uc4f71e6a-1e93-580d-849c-83f28c2e0100)
From the bottom of the stairs, River saw it happening—saw her falling. He saw the dark shadow at the top of the stairs, saw it reaching for her. Or pushing her?
He rushed forward, but before he could catch her, the woman’s hand closed around the railing and she steadied herself. But he wrapped his arm around her small waist and pulled her aside, stepping between her and that threatening shadow.
She clutched at him as she tried to find her footing on the steps again. She wasn’t going to fall, though. He had her in his one arm while he swung his other toward that shadow.
Just before his fist connected, the other man stepped into the light. And River jerked his arm back, exclaiming, “Mac! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Mac replied. “That damn horse came back without you. I thought it threw you. That you might be hurt.” His dark gaze skimmed over River. “But you look fine. What are you doing here?”
“I was out riding—”
“Not you,” Mac said. He gestured behind River. “What are you doing here, Edith? When I was looking for him, I noticed your car parked out front by the fountain.”
The woman tugged free of River’s grip and leaned around him. “Hi, Uncle Mac.”
And now River realized why she looked so familiar. He’d seen pictures of her in Mac’s house. Of course, she’d been younger then—much younger. Just a little girl with thick braids and her front teeth missing. She’d certainly grown up since those old photos.
She must have been at Thorne’s wedding, though, since they were cousins. River had made himself scarce at the ceremony. He hadn’t stood in the receiving line, and he’d skipped the reception. He hadn’t wanted to draw any attention away from the bride and groom. And since he’d been back, people tended to stare at him. And ask intrusive questions about what had happened.
He didn’t want to think about what had happened, let alone talk about it.
“What are you doing here?” Mac asked his niece again.
“I—I stopped by the ranch earlier,” Edith replied. “But you weren’t there.”
“I was out with Evelyn,” Mac said. “But that doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing here—at La Bonne Vie?”
“You don’t know?” River asked. He knew Mac wasn’t particularly close to his niece; he had lost touch with her for years and felt bad about it. But River thought they’d reconnected during those ten years he’d been gone. Mac had written about her in some of the letters he’d sent River.
“No,” Mac said, and a muscle twitched along his tightly clenched jaw. “Edith, what are you doing here?”
“I told you I’m moving out of New Orleans, that I’m moving to Texas.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But you didn’t tell me you were going to move here, to La Bonne Vie.”
She shook her head, and her long hair bounced around her bare shoulders. She stood so close to River on the stairs that a few tendrils brushed across his cheek. It was so soft—so silky. “I’m not going to stay here. Not for long, anyway, just until...”
“Until what?” Mac asked. “What business do you have with La Bonne Vie?”
River turned toward her now, studying her beautiful face as she stared up at her uncle. “The business I work for—it bought the estate. My job is to get it ready.”
“Ready for what?” Mac asked. “Ready for who? I don’t even know who you work for.”
Hearing the pain in the other man’s voice, River turned toward him now. He felt as if he were intruding on a family moment. He’d often felt like that in his own home, though. In this home. But it had never really felt like home. Not when he’d been growing up here and certainly not now.
“This isn’t the time or the place to discuss this,” Edith said, and there was a coolness in her voice now that was nearly as chilly as the damp air in the basement.
“Why not?” Mac asked. “Your company owns this place now, right?”
“The company I work for,” Edith said. “Not me.”
“We’re trespassing,” River said. “At least that’s what she told me when I came inside here to see why she was screaming.”
Mac hurried down a few steps and reached out toward his niece, like he had been earlier. “You were screaming? Why? What happened?”
She shook her head. “It was nothing...”
“She spooked my horse,” River said.
“I—I thought I saw something—someone inside.” Her fingers skimmed over River’s arm. “Did you find anyone? Anything?”
He shook his head. Of course he hadn’t had time to do a thorough search. He’d heard the footsteps overhead—had heard the basement door creak open, and he’d rushed back to make sure she was safe, just as she’d been about to fall. “I didn’t see anything. But even with the power on, most of the lights are out down here. I couldn’t search thoroughly tonight. I can come back in the morning.”
“You’re not staying here,” Mac told Edith.
“Of course not,” she agreed. “I have a room booked at the local B and B.”
“Why?” Mac asked. “Why would you stay there and not with me?”
She uttered a soft sigh that River felt brush across his cheek. “I didn’t want to invite myself.”
“You’re family.” Mac turned around and headed up the stairs. “Come on, you two, let’s head back to the ranch.”
Edith clutched River’s arm now, tugging him back around to her. “You’re staying there?”
He’d had no place else to go.
“Of course,” Mac answered for him before he had the chance. “He’s family, too.” Only Thorne was his son. But Mac was the only father figure any of the Coltons had ever really known. Even before finding out Wes Kingston wasn’t his dad, River had never been close to the man—not like he was with Mac.
But Mac wasn’t really his father. He needed to find out who was. If the secret was anywhere, it was probably inside this house—in one of Livia’s hidden lairs.
“Why don’t you ride back with Edith,” River suggested to Mac, “and I’ll take another look around here before driving your truck back.”
“You just said you can’t search thoroughly until morning,” Edith reminded him, and there was suspicion in her voice now, like she was beginning to question his motives.
He couldn’t have that—not if he wanted to get back inside the house.
“You can ride with Mac in the truck,” she said, “and I’ll meet you both back at the ranch after I lock up.”
“You’re not staying here alone,” River said.
“I told you I’m coming back to the ranch—”
“Something could happen to you while you’re locking up,” River pointed out. Something to make her scream again like she had—with such terror it echoed inside River’s mind yet.
At the top of the steps, Mac turned back around and gestured for them to come up, too. “We’re all leaving together.”
Edith sighed, but she obeyed her uncle, heading up the stairs ahead of River. He couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips beneath that long, gauzy skirt. And when she stepped into the material and nearly tumbled forward, he caught her around the tiny waist again and helped her up the rest of the way.
Her breath audibly caught and she pulled away from him as she reached the top. He couldn’t blame her. With the way he looked, he could understand why she wouldn’t want him touching her.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “I just didn’t want you to fall.” Not wanting to see her revulsion, he turned back toward the stairs. So he didn’t see her face.
He only heard her murmur, “Thank you...”
But he did see something—maybe—at the bottom of the stairs. A glint in the darkness. Was that what she’d seen? What she’d thought might be human? He stepped closer and peered down, but the glint was gone.
And he couldn’t be certain what he’d seen—if anything. Hell, since losing his right eye, he didn’t quite trust his vision anymore.
“Come on, you two,” Mac urged them. “Let’s get the hell out of here and head back to the ranch.” It was no secret that he’d always hated coming up to the main house when he’d worked for Livia. And she had probably actually had more respect and affection for Mac than she’d had for the other men in her life—hell, even her own sons.
Just before he pushed shut the basement door, River glanced down those stairs again. The glint was back. It could have been eyes. Or maybe something shiny gleaming in the darkness. He couldn’t be certain.
But whatever it was unnerved him like it had Edith. He barely suppressed a shudder. There was something else inside this house, something that felt almost sinister.
* * *
Mac glanced across the truck console at where River sat quietly in the passenger’s seat. “Are you really okay?”
The wounded Marine had been quiet since he’d stepped out of the house. Not that that was unusual for River. He had always been a quiet kid. And since he’d been injured, he had become even more withdrawn.
River nodded, then snorted derisively. “Can’t believe you thought that horse threw me.”
“You haven’t been on a horse in years,” Mac reminded him. And he was still recovering from whatever had happened on that last deployment, but Mac didn’t have to remind him of that. He doubted it was ever far from River’s mind.
“Doesn’t matter,” River said. “I haven’t forgotten what you taught me.”
Mac had taught all the Colton kids to ride. River was nearly as good a rider as Thorne, who was probably second only to Jade.
“I wasn’t questioning your abilities,” Mac assured him. “It’s that damn stallion. He’s skittish and unpredictable.”
“So is your niece.”
Mac snorted now. “You don’t know Edith.” She was one of the strongest, most determined and driven women Mac had ever known. Not that he’d known her that long. Thanks to the nightmare that Livia Colton had made of his life, he’d lost track of his sister and his young niece. But that was his fault. He should have made time for Merrilee and Edith as well as Thorne and the other Colton kids. He’d always known his sister was fragile. He just hadn’t realized how fragile, however. Edith was nothing like her mother. But he wasn’t certain she knew that. While they had reconnected once she’d become an adult, she was still quite guarded with him. So guarded that he hadn’t even known the company for which she worked had bought La Bonne Vie.
“No, I don’t know Edith,” River admitted as he turned in the passenger’s seat and leaned slightly over the console. “Why don’t I know her?”
“You’ve been gone for ten years,” Mac said.
“But why don’t I know her from before then?” he asked. “I remember the pictures you had of her as a little girl, but I don’t remember her ever coming to visit. She’s from Louisiana, right?”
Mac uttered a sigh, but it didn’t ease any of the heaviness in his chest, any of the guilt. “Yeah, she grew up in New Orleans. I lost touch with my sister and her for a long time. I didn’t know...”
“Didn’t know what?” River asked.
“Didn’t know my sister had lost her husband and that she’d been struggling...”
“Financially?” River prodded when he’d trailed off.
Emotion choked Mac, and he could only shake his head. Even now he couldn’t talk about it—couldn’t think about it without the guilt overwhelming him.
Was that why River couldn’t talk about whatever had happened to him? Did he feel some form of guilt, as well—for surviving when others hadn’t?
Mac was glad the ranch was close, because he pulled into the driveway behind Edith’s car and cut the engine and the conversation.
But River wasn’t fooled. “Guess I’m not the only one who has things he’d rather not talk about.”
Mac sighed. “I can’t change the past,” he said. “So there’s no point in discussing it.”
“Exactly,” River agreed.
But Mac wasn’t as convinced that was true for River. Maybe he needed to talk about it, to work through it and get beyond it. Before he could suggest that, River opened the passenger door and slipped out. He didn’t stop, either—he headed straight for the barn. Hopefully he didn’t intend to take that damn horse out for another ride.
“Hey,” he called after him. “Aren’t you coming inside?”
River didn’t even turn back—just shook his head and continued to walk away.
“Where’s he going?” Edith asked as she stared after his broad back. “I thought he was staying with you.”
“He’s staying in the apartment in the barn,” Mac said. “I tried to get him to stay in the house...”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
Mac shrugged. “He said he might disturb me.”
“How?” she asked.
Mac glanced down at his niece’s face, her dark gaze locked yet on River. She seemed awfully fascinated with the ex-Marine. While Mac loved River like a son, he wasn’t sure the man would be good for anyone right now. He’d been through so much and probably had more than physical wounds.
“I think it’s the nightmares.” Even with River in the barn, he heard him sometimes—heard the shouting. It sounded like he was trying to warn someone.
Edith shivered.
“Let’s get inside,” he said.
She turned toward him now and shook her head. “I really can’t stay. I have that room in town—”
“It would make more sense for you to stay here,” he said. “So you’ll be close to the estate, if you really intend to go back there.”
