About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author BJ DANIELS wrote her first book after a career as an award-winning newspaper journalist and author of thirty-seven published short stories. Since then she has won numerous awards, including a career achievement award for romantic suspense and many nominations and awards for best book. Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels, Spot and Jem. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards, camps, boats and plays tennis. To contact her, write to BJ Daniels, PO Box 1173, Malta, MT 59538, USA or e-mail her at bjdaniels@mtintouch.net. Check out her website at www.bjdaniels.com.

Branded
BJ Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I wanted to kick off this new series with a dedication to

a good friend who has been in my thoughts.

This one is for Debra Webb, one of the strongest, most

determined women I know and one heck of a writer.

Chapter One

Emma Chisholm heard the ruckus from clear back in the ranch kitchen. She wiped her hands on her apron as she walked toward the front of the sprawling house to peer out over the wide porch to the yard.

After a whirlwind courtship and marriage, she hadn’t been prepared for her new home. Hoyt had warned her that his ranch was in the middle of Nowhere, Montana, but she hadn’t been able to imagine anything this isolated or this huge.

She remembered thinking that day two weeks ago, when they’d driven north for three hours after picking up one of his ranch trucks at the airport in Billings, that she didn’t really know what she was getting into—not with her new life. Or her new husband. After all, what did she really know about Hoyt Chisholm?

And what did he know about her? Very little since she had purposely skimmed over the past. It was a given that both being over fifty, they had things in their pasts they wanted to forget.

The thought that Hoyt might also have something in his past he wanted to hide had never occurred to her. That was an unsettling thought, she realized as she headed for the front of the rambling ranch house.

Even through the cloud of dust they were kicking up, she recognized the two young men brawling by the corral. Emma sighed, shaking her head as she watched two of her stepsons fighting. When Hoyt had told her that he had six sons, she’d been shocked. Funny how that hadn’t come up when they met in Denver and found themselves flying to Vegas for an impromptu wedding.

She’d expected them to be boys, since that was what he called them. To her surprise, they were six grown men from twenty-six to thirty-three years old. But they definitely behaved like boys. Her six, big, strapping stepsons were typically involved in one squabble or another on a daily basis and she’d come to realize that Hoyt was usually the reason. The boys, all adopted, had apparently been raised without a woman in the house to give them any guidance and Hoyt dang sure wasn’t providing any.

Emma saw her husband standing in the shade at the other end of the porch watching two of his sons rassle in the dirt.

“You just going to stand there, Hoyt Chisholm?” she asked as she stepped out on the porch.

He shot her that grin that had stolen her heart and clearly her senses, as well. How else could she explain marrying a man she barely knew to come to this ranch so far from civilization?

Hoyt took off his Stetson and scratched the back of his neck. She could tell that he wasn’t going to do a darn thing about this. Just as she could see that he wanted her to accept the way things were on the Chisholm Cattle Company ranch. By now he must be realizing that wasn’t going to happen.

Stepping off the porch, she walked around to the water faucet at the side of the house, snatched up the hose and turned the faucet on full force.

Hoyt, seeing what she was up to, quickly abandoned the porch as if he just remembered he had something to do in the barn.

Emma was tempted to turn the water on him, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. He’d just laugh and hightail it out of range.

His two sons were still rolling around in the dirt as Emma dragged the hose over and sprayed them.

“What the hell?” Colton said as he leaped to his feet.

“Don’t you be using that kind of language around me, Colton Chisholm,” Emma snapped and sprayed him again.

Tanner was on his feet, same as his brother, both now soaked to the skin, the dust on their clothes turning to mud.

Emma shook her head as she looked at the two of them and their hangdog expressions. Both were handsome to a fault.

“This is all your doing, Hoyt Chisholm,” she called after her husband. “You’re the reason they’re always squabbling, each of them trying to win favor with you.” She’d seen that within the first twenty-four hours of moving into the main house even though the “boys” had their own houses on the huge ranch that was Chisholm Cattle Company.

Of course, Hoyt pretended not to hear, but she could tell by the way he ducked his head as he stepped into the barn that he’d heard just fine. His sons were brought up wild. And he thought that was a good thing?

She turned her attention back to the two young men standing before her. They had both retrieved their hats and stood looking sheepish and wet and worried about what she might do next.

“I’d best not catch you fighting like tomcats again,” she said, scowling at the two of them. “Now get on out of here before I give you another good soaking.”

They tipped their hats and took off in the direction their father had gone. But within a few feet she could hear them arguing again.

She shook her head. It was time for Hoyt’s “boys” to grow up, and she knew exactly what each of them needed. A woman.

Not just any woman. It took a special woman to domesticate a Chisholm man, she reflected, thinking of Hoyt.

As she turned off the water and coiled up the hose again, she told herself the hardest part would be finding the right woman for each of them. Since marrying Hoyt, she’d been thinking about how to bring this family together. It was clear that her stepsons had been more than surprised when their father had brought home a wife—and less than pleased. But she was determined to change all that.

She’d have to be careful, though, Emma thought, as she turned back to the kitchen and the apple pies she was helping the cook make for supper. If Hoyt or her stepsons got wind of what she was up to, there would be hell to pay.

But she was willing to take that chance. She smiled, thinking of her husband. The key was gentling a man, not breaking him. Love could accomplish the most amazing things, she told herself, hoping that was true.

She set her mind to which of her stepsons would be first to have his life changed forever with her help—and possibly a cattle prod.

COLTON CHISHOLM WIPED BLOOD from his split lip as he limped to his pickup. He told himself he’d gotten the best of the fight, but as he slid behind the wheel, he felt the pain in his ribs and wasn’t so sure about that.

As he started the engine and roared down the road away from the ranch, he thought about just striking out and leaving Whitehorse and the Chisholm Cattle Company behind. He had plenty of reason most days.

But when he glanced in his rearview mirror, he knew he could no more leave this land than he could quit fighting his brothers for it. He was as much a Chisholm as the rest of them and he wouldn’t be pushed out.

Not that his father didn’t have him thinking twice about it, though. Everyone in six counties was talking about how Hoyt Chisholm had gone to the cattleman’s convention in Denver and brought home a wife. And not just any wife. Emma McDougal Chisholm—a fifty-something buxom redhead with green eyes and a temper.

“The damn fool,” Colton said to himself. What made it worse was that his father was plainly head over heels in love with the woman. And Emma … well, she seemed set on changing things on the ranch. He shook his head. Emma McDougal Chisholm had no idea what she’d signed on for. If she did, she’d be hightailing it out of town before sundown.

As Colton neared the highway on the long dirt road out of the ranch, he saw the postman, Albert Raines, pull up to the huge mailbox marked Chisholm. Albert waved to him and Colton slowed, pulling alongside as the postman got out and walked toward his pickup.

“Got a bunch of mail as usual,” the tall, skinny postman said. “I was told to see that you got this personally, though.” He handed Colton an envelope from the Postal Service.

At first he thought the postman was joking with him. “This about some new stamp designs?”

“Nope,” Albert said with all seriousness. “It’s a letter addressed to you that got lost. I brought it special.”

“Thanks.” He tossed it on the seat. He’d gotten other mail that had been caught in some machine and mangled and had ended up in an envelope just like the one Albert had handed him. No doubt it was a bill of some sort, since Colton rarely received anything else.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Albert sounded disappointed. “I heard it’s been lost for fourteen years.”

Colton chuckled. “I’m sure it will keep if it’s been lost that long.” He waved goodbye as he left and headed down the road to his house. He’d taken over one of the houses when his father had purchased a neighboring ranch a few years back. The house needed work, but Colton had needed space.

While the Chisholm ranch house was huge and rambling, it wasn’t big enough for him and his brothers. All of them had moved out when they’d heard about their father’s marriage, but they all still returned to the main ranch house for meals. Emma had seen to that.

After cleaning up, Colton headed into Whitehorse, anxious to get his errands done and get back for dinner. Emma had announced that she and the cook were baking apple pies. The way his brothers put away food, the pies wouldn’t last long. Emma demanded that they all sit down to dinner each evening at the huge log dining room table at the ranch.

Crossing Emma had proved to be a bad thing, he thought, smiling at the memory of her turning the hose on him and Tanner. Emma wasn’t very tall, but she was feisty as a badger—and just as dangerous when she was riled up. He figured that was one reason his father had fallen for her—and the reason this marriage didn’t stand a chance in hell.

It wasn’t until later, after picking up supplies, stopping to see if his saddle was fixed yet and having a cup of coffee while he waited at the local café, that Colton climbed back in his pickup and saw the envelope.

He thought about just tossing it. What was the point in looking at a bill that had gotten lost in the mail years ago? Hell, fourteen years ago he’d been eighteen, too young to have bills and who would have sent him a letter?

Curious now, he tore open the envelope and dumped out the contents.

A once-white small envelope tumbled out on his pickup seat. The moment he saw her handwriting, his heart stuttered in his chest and he found himself heaving for breath, the effort almost doubling over from the pain of his banged-up ribs. He stared at the handwriting, the return address and finally the postmark. The letter had been mailed fourteen years ago in May—right before Jessica left Whitehorse without even saying goodbye and he’d never seen her again.

He felt the heartbreak as if it had been only yesterday as he carefully eased open the back flap and took out the handwritten letter inside.

Colton,

I’m sorry we fought. But I can’t stay here at the house any longer. It’s only getting worse. I’m running away. I hope you’ll come with me. I’ll be waiting for you at our special place Friday night at midnight. If you love me, you’ll meet me there and we’ll go together. I have a surprise for you and can’t wait to tell you.

Love,

Jessica

Colton felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest all over again. He let out a howl of pain as he reread the words. Jessica hadn’t just taken off without a word. She’d sent this letter. Only he hadn’t gotten it.

They’d had a fight the day before she left school, left Whitehorse, left him. He had been beside himself. He’d even braved going over to her house, knowing the reaction he’d get from her father.

Sid Granger had answered the door, his wife, Milli, behind him. “What the hell are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough, you son of a—” His wife had grabbed his arm, trying to hold him back, but she was no match for her husband.

Sid had grabbed a baseball bat and chased him out to his pickup. “Jessica’s gone and if I ever see your face around here again, I’ll kill you.”

In the days following, Colton had called the house, begging Sid to tell him where Jessica had gone. But the phone calls had ended with angry words and the slamming down of the receiver. They blamed him for Jessica leaving? He couldn’t understand why. She’d loved him. It was whatever was going on at home that had made her run away.

A few weeks later, he’d seen Mrs. Granger coming out of the Whitehorse Post Office.

“Please. Tell me where she’s gone,” Colton had pleaded.

“Go away.” Millie Granger had glanced around as if she was afraid Sid would find out she’d talked to him. “Jessica’s gone. She isn’t coming back. And even if she was, she wouldn’t want anything to do with you.”

Colton hadn’t believed it at first. He’d been inconsolable for weeks.

“She obviously wasn’t the right woman for you,” his father finally said after watching him mope around. “Trust me, her leaving is the best thing that could have happened. You both were too damn young to be so serious.”

As weeks had turned into months, Colton had been forced to accept that the first woman he’d ever loved no longer wanted anything to do with him.

Now he stared at the letter and understood what had happened, why she’d never tried to contact him. She’d reached out to him, gone to their secret spot that night, only to have him fail to show.

How long had she waited for him, thinking he would come for her? The thought of her alone there that night, waiting for him, broke his heart all over again. He couldn’t bear that she’d gone away believing he hadn’t loved her, that he wouldn’t have been there for her. He had promised to take care of her, look out for her, and when she’d needed him, he hadn’t been there.

I never got the letter.

He hadn’t been to their special place for fourteen years—not since their fight and her disappearance from his life. As he drove out of town toward the ranch, he remembered the times they’d met there in secret. He would spread a blanket out for them beneath a stand of huge old cottonwood trees alongside the creek.

Even after all these years, he could remember the sound of the breeze in the leaves overhead, the sweet scent of the wild grasses, the cool coming up off the creek, the heat of her body against his.

It was in the shade of those trees that he’d first told her he loved her. They’d both been seventeen the first time they’d made love under that tree. It had been the first for both of them. Jessica had cried afterward and told him he would always be the only one for her. He’d told her he’d never let anyone hurt her again.

Colton drove past the Granger place, glancing in the direction of the house, as he had done for the last fourteen years. The house was set back off the road, almost hidden in a stand of trees. He never passed it without thinking of Jessica.

As he drove by the barbed-wire fence that marked the end of the Granger property and the beginning of Chisholm land, he slowed. Seeing no other vehicles coming down the road from either direction, he pulled in, stopping short of the barbed-wire gate.

The gate into this part of the Chisholm ranch property was seldom if ever used. The barbed wire had cut deep into the wooden posts, a sure sign that no one had been back in years. Once opened, he drove through the gate, then got out and closed it behind him.

The way in could hardly be called a road. It was a dirt path through some rugged terrain. Grass grew up between the two ruts, scraping the underside of his pickup as he drove until he reached the creek and the path petered out.

Parking in a gully where his pickup couldn’t be seen from either the road or the Granger property, he walked the rest of the way, following the creek—just as he’d done as a teenager on his way to meet Jessica.

That night Jessica would have sneaked out of her parents’ house and taken the back way, along the creek and through the barbed-wire fence onto Chisholm property, following the creek to the secret meeting place.

It had been Jessica who’d found the spot one night after a fight with her father. She’d wandered down the creek bank for half a mile to an oxbow surrounded by tall trees. She’d crawled through the barbed-wire fence onto Chisholm land—and realized she’d found the perfect place for them to meet in secret, her father being none the wiser.

Colton slowed his steps as he saw the tops of the trees in the distance and remembered the anticipation he’d felt each time he was to meet her all those years ago.

When he saw their secret spot, he stopped short. Jessica Granger had been his first real girlfriend, although they’d been forced to keep it secret because of her father. Sid Granger didn’t want his daughter having anything to do with those wild Chisholm boys and no matter what Colton did, he couldn’t convince him otherwise.

The spot didn’t look as if anyone had been here in the past fourteen years since the land was posted and no one else had reason to come here. As he walked to the trees, stopping in the cool shade, he realized that the last person to stand here had probably been Jessica. His heart lodged in his throat at the thought.

For a moment he swore he caught a whiff of her perfume. The scent took him back. He could close his eyes and feel her in his arms as they lay entwined in the shade of these cottonwoods after making love.

I have a surprise for you and can’t wait to tell you. Whatever it had been, he would never know, he thought as he looked around.

What the hell are you doing here? He pulled off his Stetson and raked his fingers through his sandy-blond hair. Did he think he was going to find Jessica waiting for him here? He laughed at the absurdity of it.

Hell, he couldn’t even be sure she ever came here that night. Maybe she’d changed her mind, sorry she’d written him the letter, and had taken off on her own.

With a start, he remembered that Sid Granger had called the ranch that night.

“It’s Granger,” his father had said after answering the phone in the middle of dinner all those years ago. “He wants to know if you’ve seen his daughter.” Colton had given his father a miserable shake of his head. “He hasn’t seen her. They broke up.”

He’d never seen Jessica again.

If only he’d gotten the letter, he thought angrily. He would have run off and married her in a heartbeat.

Colton took one last look at the spot under the trees. “I’m so sorry, Jessica,” he whispered on the warm spring breeze rustling the leaves on the branches over his head.

A part of him ached for what could have been. They would have run away together. He could have gotten a job on a ranch. She could have gotten a job cooking for the hired hands. Or maybe he would have made enough that she didn’t have to work, especially if they’d gotten a place to live along with his job.

He sighed, realizing that they had both been kids back then. The chances of his getting hired on some ranch would have been slim. Not only that, Jessica didn’t know how to cook and she would have gone crazy living on a ranch. She’d always yearned to kick the dust of Montana off her heels and live in some big city. She had this idea that she would be a model. Or even a movie star.

“I’m going to be famous someday,” she used to say. “You’ll look back and say, ‘I knew her when she was a girl.’“ It used to make him sad when she talked that way because he knew he would never leave Montana.

What would he have done if he’d gotten the letter?

He would have figured something out, he told himself. He’d have had to. With her family being the way they were, he was all she had. She depended on him.

As he started to turn away, his boot toe caught on something. At first he thought it was a small root from the new growth at the base of one of the cottonwoods.

But as he reached down to free his boot, he saw that it wasn’t a root but a leather strap protruding from the dirt. It was attached to something buried under one of the exposed roots.

He pulled on the strap and a small leather shoulder bag came up out of the dirt. The leather was discolored, the design faded over the years, but he recognized it at once.

His heart pounded against his injured ribs. Jessica’s purse.

Chapter Two

Emma had just put the pies in the oven when the phone rang. She stared at it a moment, not sure she wanted to answer it after the last time.

“You want me to get that?” the cook asked. Celeste was a thirty-something woman, robust, flush-faced and tireless. What she lacked in a sense of humor was made up by her work ethic. At least that’s what Emma told herself.

“No, I have it.” Emma wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the wall phone in the kitchen. She picked it up on the third ring, praying it wasn’t a repeat of the two other calls she’d gotten since arriving here.

“Chisholm Cattle Company,” she said into the phone.

A beat of silence, then, “Mrs. Hoyt Chisholm?” The voice was a woman’s. She sounded elderly and according to the caller ID, a local number.

“Yes.” Emma held her breath, hoping the woman was someone from the nearby town of Whitehorse who’d called to welcome her to the area and wish her well on her marriage.

“You need to get out of that house before you end up dead, too. Your husband is cursed when it comes to wives.”

“I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?” Emma asked.

“The Chisholm curse. You’ve been warned.” As the woman slammed down the phone, Emma jerked the receiver away from her ear.

“Something wrong?” Celeste asked.

“Wrong number.” She hung up hoping the cook didn’t see the way her hand was shaking. Emma wasn’t ready to confide in either Celeste or the housekeeper, Mae. She’d seen how shocked they’d been that Hoyt had remarried. While neither of them had said anything, she’d noticed that they stayed to themselves, rebuffing any attempts she made to gain their trust—let alone their friendship.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Chisholm?” Emma asked Celeste now. She hadn’t want to ask too many questions, hoping to gain the employees’ trust by being helpful and pleasant and find out more about each of the women—and more about Whitehorse and how Chisholm Cattle Company fit into the scheme of things—as time went on.

That, she’d come to realize, wasn’t going to happen.

“Just over a year,” Celeste said.

“And Mae?”

“About six months.”

Emma felt her brow shoot up in surprise.

“Not a lot of people want to work out here,” Celeste said.

“Why is that?” She knew the wages were good and Hoyt was congenial and easy to work for, from what she’d seen.

The cook seemed to search her gaze, as if she wondered if Emma was joking. Or testing her. “It’s a long drive.”

She could tell there was more, but that the woman wasn’t going to tell her for some reason. “Surely someone lasted longer.”

Celeste shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

Emma wondered if it had anything to do with the Chisholm Curse. She hated to admit that the phone calls had shaken her a little.

“Those women who have been calling you, they’re just jealous,” her friend Debra had said when she called Denver later that afternoon. Celeste had left for the day and it was Mae’s day off. Emma had the house to herself until supper when Celeste would return to help her cook for her large new family.

“Hoyt Chisholm must have been the most eligible bachelor in all of Montana,” her friend said. “Don’t let some old biddies get to you. He picked you. He loves you.”

Yes, Emma thought. And she loved Hoyt. “Still, it seems odd.” The last elderly neighboring ranchwoman’s call hadn’t sounded malicious. She’d sounded scared for her.

COLTON WAS WAITING BY THE ROAD when he finally saw the Sheriff’s Department patrol car approaching. His mind was reeling from the letter—and what he’d found under the cottonwood tree.

Inside Jessica’s purse he’d discovered her wallet with her driver’s license, $200 in cash and a bus ticket out of Whitehorse.

One one-way bus ticket? She’d said she wanted them to run away together. While she didn’t have a car of her own, she knew he had his own pickup. Did she have so little faith that he would show up that she’d gotten the ticket just in case? He felt confused. The ticket had been for the 4:00 a.m. bus that would have left just hours after they were to meet at their secret spot.

Why had she thought she’d be leaving Whitehorse alone?

But if her purse was buried under the tree root, then how could she have left town? And why would she bury her purse? It made no sense. It made his blood run cold because he knew she wouldn’t have buried it—just as he couldn’t see how she could have left without it.

A terrible dread had settled into his bones by the time the sheriff’s deputy pulled up next to his pickup and a female deputy stepped out.

She wore jeans, cowboy boots and a tan uniform shirt with a Whitehorse County Sheriff’s Department patch on the sleeve. Colton felt his heart drop like a stone off a cliff as he recognized her. He swore under his breath. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Halley?”

DEPUTY HALLEY ROBINSON had told herself after moving back to Whitehorse that sooner or later she was going to cross paths with Colton Chisholm. When she’d left Whitehorse after junior high school, hadn’t she sworn that one day she would return and make Colton sorry?

But that had been a young girl’s dream of revenge. Halley was no longer that young, impressionable girl.

Lucky for Colton, she thought, since here they both were again, and oh, how the tables had turned.

“Colton,” she said, secretly enjoying the fact that he’d remembered her.

“You’re the new deputy?”

She smiled in answer. When the call came in, she’d been the only one on duty in the area. The county was a large one, stretching from the Missouri River to the south and all the way to Canada on the north.

“So, why don’t you tell me what the problem is,” she said, all business again. “You told the dispatcher you’d found Jessica Granger’s purse and you believe something might have happened to her?”

He nodded, looking as if he now regretted making that call to the sheriff’s office. Reaching into the cab of his pickup, he lifted out a weathered leather purse and handed it to her.

“It’s Jessica’s. I found it at a spot we used to meet.”

She raised her gaze to his. “A secret spot, the dispatcher said.”

He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment. “That’s right.”

“And there was something about a lost letter?”

Colton rubbed the back of his neck. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, but back in junior high, his father had taken clippers to all six of the boys, giving them buzz cuts. That was probably why she hadn’t remembered the color, a combination of ripe wheat and sunshine that brought out the gold flecks in his blue eyes.

She felt that old quiver inside as her gaze me his. Colton Chisholm had been adorable in grade school.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d grown into a drop-dead good-looking man.

He reached into his jean jacket pocket and brought out a worse-for-wear looking, age-yellowed envelope. He held it as if not wanting to relinquish the letter to her, then finally handed it over.

Halley noted the postmark and the return address before opening the envelope. She quickly read what Jessica had written on the single sheet inside. The writing was young, girlish. She remembered Jessica Granger only too well. Jessica had been one of those annoyingly silly, all-girl girls while Halley had been a daredevil, tree-climbing, ball-throwing, horse-riding tomboy.

The letter, she noted, had been mailed fourteen years ago—only a few years after Halley had left Whitehorse brokenhearted because of Colton Chisholm.

Her gaze slid up to his again. He looked damn uncomfortable. Guilt? “What was it she had to tell you?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t get the letter until today.”

“You’re saying you didn’t meet her that night?”

“No. How could I since I never got the letter?” He sounded both angry and upset and she could see that he was more than a little shaken by this. He turned to get a United States Postal Department manila envelope from the pickup cab. He thrust it at her. “You can check with Albert if you don’t believe me.”

Halley wasn’t sure what she believed. She was having a hard time separating the boy he’d been from the man standing before her. As a boy, he’d been too cute for his own good. Now he had a rough, sexy look about him that was enhanced by what was clearly a strong, worked-hard, ranch body.

She was sure women found him irresistible and wondered how many hearts he’d broken. It made her think of her own fragile, small one that had taken a beating all those years ago because of him.

“Jessica didn’t phone you when you didn’t show up? Didn’t try to contact you?”

His golden gaze met hers and held it. “I never saw her again. I was told that she left town, just like she said she was going to do in the letter. I tried to find out where she’d gone, but …” He wagged his head and looked down at the toes of his Western boots. “Her family wouldn’t tell me anything. Her dad didn’t like me.”

Imagine that. “You have a fight?”

He looked away toward the foothills, his face filled with a pain that could have been guilt. Or she supposed it was possible he’d really cared about this girl. It amazed her that the thought could still hurt.

“It was just a stupid disagreement,” he said finally.

“Over … ?”

“Nothing, just dumb high school stuff.”

He was lying. Halley wondered what the fight had been about and whom he was trying to protect. Jessica Granger? Or himself? Jessica had said in the letter she wanted to tell him something that night.

“Would you have gone away with her?”

He swung his gaze back to her as if surprised by the question. “I was in love with her. I would have done anything she asked.”

Halley nodded, unable to hide her surprise by his impassioned response—or her quick flash of jealousy. There’d been a time she would have given anything to have the boy Colton had been feel that way about her.

“Why do I get the feeling there is a whole lot more to this?” Maybe she just wanted to believe it because this was Colton Chisholm she was dealing with.

He didn’t answer. The look he gave her said he feared she was incapable of believing anything he told her. He could be right about that. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who remembered their history. Call it puppy love, kid stuff, whatever, those old hurts lasted a lifetime.

“Why a letter? Why didn’t she just call you and ask you to meet her?”

Colton hung his head, studying his boot toes again. “I don’t know. Maybe her father wouldn’t let her call.”

“Or maybe she thought you wouldn’t take her call.”

He shot her an angry look. “We had an argument. Her dad didn’t want her seeing me. It was complicated. None of that has anything to do with anything.”

Halley lifted a brow, unconvinced.

“Look, I don’t care what you think about me, I just need to know what happened to her.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

Colton shifted, anger making his broad shoulders appear even broader. He looked ready to take her on, just as he had when they were kids. Except that he appeared to have already been in a fight. He was favoring his ribs and there was discoloration around one of his eyes. This time it hadn’t been some skinny, spunky tomboy in the school yard who’d given him the shiner, though, she suspected.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “Jessica wouldn’t have left without her purse that night.”

“So you think she’s still out there,” Halley said and felt a chill snake up her spine. “I think you’d better show me this secret place of yours and I’m going to have to keep this letter—at least until we get this cleared up.”

COLTON DIDN’T WANT TO come back to the spot on the creek. It had been tough enough earlier. Now it was pure hell. He felt sick to his stomach as Halley parked the patrol SUV in the clearing and cut the engine. She’d insisted that he ride with her. He could feel her watching him, looking for … what? Proof that he was everything she thought he was and worse?

Hell, he’d never felt more guilty in his life. He’d let Jessica down. Hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him the most. Because in his heart, he knew what they were going to find here. In his heart, he knew Jessica had never left their secret spot that night.

The sun pounded down with a heat that stole his breath. The quiet was deafening as they climbed out of the SUV and walked along the secluded path toward the stand of cottonwoods. It was as if every living thing had deserted the area. Even the water in the small creek fell silent.

“This is where I found the purse,” he said when they finally reached the grove of trees. “I tripped on the strap.” He could feel her gaze on him before she glanced around. He could imagine what she was thinking. He felt anger rise in him again, but swallowed it back. “I didn’t kill her.”

Halley’s brow quirked up. “You’re that sure she’s dead?’

“Can we please stop playing games here? We both know she’s dead. She wouldn’t have left without her purse and she damn sure didn’t bury it herself under that tree root.” His voice broke. “You have to find her so she can get a proper burial.”

“Where would you suggest we look for a body?” the deputy asked, clearly baiting him.

“Do you have any idea how hard this is on me?” he asked through clenched teeth. He had taken a step toward her, but now stopped, suddenly aware that her hand was resting on the butt of her gun. Did she really think he’d killed Jessica?

The heat, the quiet, the sickness in the pit of his stomach made him slump down on the edge of the creek bank. He put his head in his hands and fought back all the emotions warring inside him. “Please, just find her.”

HALLEY PULLED OUT HER CELL PHONE, all the while keeping an eye on Colton. He hadn’t moved from the creek bank. She got the number for Sid and Mildred Granger’s house. A woman picked up on the third ring.

“I’d like to speak with Jessica Granger,” Halley said and saw Colton lift his head. He frowned, the look he gave her appeared to question whether she’d lost her mind.

There was a beat of silence, then, “She isn’t here. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Can you tell me where I can reach her?”

Another beat of silence. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Is this Mrs. Granger?”

“Yes.”

Halley heard the hesitation in the woman’s voice. “I’m Sheriff’s Deputy Halley Robinson. I know this is unusual, but can you tell me when you last heard from your daughter?”

“A week ago. We got a letter. Has something happened to her?” The woman sounded scared.

“No, I’m sorry to upset you. But I would like to stop by and ask you a few questions. Something of your daughter’s has been found. I’d like to return it.”

“Something of Jessica’s?”

“I’ll come by now if that’s all right. Is your husband home as well?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll see you shortly.” She snapped the phone shut and looked at Colton. “I talked to Jessica’s mother. She says she got a letter from Jessica just last week. I’m going over there now to—”

“I’m going with you,” Colton said, shooting to his feet. “She’s lying. Jessica couldn’t have written her last week.”

A shaft of ice ran up her spine, even though the heat at the edge of the cottonwoods was intense. Why was he was so adamant that Jessica was dead unless … he’d killed her? She suddenly felt the isolation of this secret place where he used to meet his girlfriend. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stood face-to-face with a killer. But it would be the first time it was a killer she’d once loved.

“Why would her mother lie?” Halley managed to ask.

“I don’t know, but she’s lying. If Jessica was alive …” His voice trailed off, anguish twisted his handsome features into a mask of pain. “I want to see the letter she supposedly sent last week. I knew Jessica better than anyone.”

Was that so? She had no doubt that Colton had known Jessica intimately if this secret spot under the cottonwoods was any indication. But if he’d known her so well, then why didn’t he know what Jessica couldn’t wait to tell him that night?

One thing was clear. Colton was going to the Granger house. Better he go with her.

“Okay, you can come with me. But if you cause any trouble, you’ll be leaving their house in handcuffs, understood?”

He nodded and she couldn’t help but notice how pale he looked. She’d never seen Colton Chisholm this vulnerable. She’d thought it would give her some satisfaction. It didn’t.

EMMA FOUND HER HUSBAND IN THE BARN. He hadn’t gone to move cattle with all of his sons except for Colton, which wasn’t like him. She worried that he wasn’t feeling well. Or that something was bothering him. Probably her. Maybe he was regretting his impulsive rush to the altar.

She’d noticed that he’d been spending more time in the barn with his horses lately. Apparently, this is where he went when he was upset about something. She stopped just inside the door to watch him as he curried a palomino mare. Hoyt was in his late fifties, just a few years older than she was. He was a big, physically fit man with a thick head of blond hair that made the gray in it hardly noticeable. But what had stolen her heart like a thief was his penetrating blue eyes and self-deprecating charm.

She wondered about the other women who’d passed through his life and this curse her latest caller had mentioned. Had those women only known the Hoyt who laughed a lot and lived hard? Or had they stuck around long enough to know this Hoyt, the quiet, gentle rancher who Emma loved and worried about?

At breakfast she’d noticed that he was quieter than usual. Now she was sure something was eating at him and wondered how long it would take before he confided in her. Or if he would.

She was sure the other women who’d been in his life had been younger, slimmer and no doubt more beautiful than she was. She couldn’t help but wonder what had made him fall in love with her.

But whatever those other women had been like, Emma didn’t think Hoyt realized yet that he had a woman strong enough that he could lean on her.

He turned as if sensing her presence. His face lit up at the sight of her and sent her heart racing and her pulse drumming in her ears. It amazed her that this man had the ability to do that to her. She didn’t doubt that Hoyt Chisholm would be able to fill her with this same desire when she was ninety.

“Coming out here will only get you in trouble,” Hoyt said as he reached for her. He pulled her to him, nuzzled her neck, making her skin tingle. She felt his fingers slip under her Western shirt and skim across her bare midriff.

As he drew back, his gaze met hers, desire burning like a hot, blue flame.

“Have you ever made love in a hayloft?” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Never,” she whispered back when she was able to catch her breath. Clearly he had something else in mind other than talking about what was really bothering him. If he thought he could distract her … Well, he was right.

“But you’ve secretly wanted to, haven’t you?” He was grinning at her and she knew she would have given him anything.

“How is it you always seem to know my secret desires, Hoyt Chisholm?”

Without another word he took her hand and led her through the barn to the foot of the hayloft ladder. “Ladies first.”

She saw the dare in his gaze and had a feeling no other woman had been up this ladder with him. Emma kissed him and began to climb.

“WHAT THE HELL is he doing here?”

Halley studied the man standing framed in the Granger house doorway. She vaguely remembered Sid Granger. She’d seen him around town when she was a girl because he’d worked for the city and probably still did.

“I need to speak with you and your wife,” Halley said flashing her badge. It had little effect on Sid, though. He stood glaring at Colton, looking as if he wanted to kill him. “Mr. Granger, I have something of your daughter Jessica’s.”

She held up the purse, finally getting his attention.

“That’s not my daughter’s.”

“It has Jessica’s driver’s license in it. I believe it is her purse.” Behind him a small woman appeared in a housedress and long apron, the quintessential home-maker. Millie Granger? When the woman’s eyes lit on the purse, her expression changed instantly. Suddenly she looked worried.

“Why don’t you ask your wife if it’s Jessica’s purse,” Halley said.

“It’s Jessica’s,” Millie said in a small voice. “Let them come in.”

Sid seemed surprised, but stepped back.

Halley shot Colton a look and said under her breath, “What did you do to make him hate you so much?”

Colton shook his head. “The son of a bitch was crazy when it came to Jessica.”

They followed the Grangers inside the house.

The interior of the house came as a surprise. Given the way Millie Granger was dressed, Halley had expected a lot of doilies, ruffled curtains and crocheted pillows. Instead, the feel was more masculine, including the huge stretched and dried rattlesnake skin that hung over the fireplace. She shivered. She’d never liked snakes, but she shouldn’t have been that surprised that Sid Granger did.

Sid turned abruptly the moment they were inside. “I don’t want him in my hou—”

“Colton found your daughter’s purse,” Halley said, raising her voice over his. “As I said, her driver’s license is in it along with a bus ticket from fourteen years ago and $200 in cash.”

Sid shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“That’s what we’d like to know. Did your daughter mention losing her purse?” she asked the mother.

Millie was a petite woman who looked as if she might blow away in a strong wind. The word mousy came to mind and, Halley noticed, Millie Granger was also clearly nervous. She was wearing a faded print apron. She kneaded the hem of it in her fingers, worrying at a hole in the fabric as she looked at her husband, as if fearful of what he might do.

Halley was wondering the same thing. Sid Granger’s jaw was set, his body practically trembling with anger.

“There must be some mistake,” Millie said in a small voice, her gaze still on her husband.

“You say you heard from your daughter last week?” Halley asked. Neither answered. “Is there a problem?” Clearly, there was, since Millie seemed to be waiting for her husband to say something.

“It’s a family matter,” Sid said through clenched teeth. “We don’t discuss family matters with—”

“She ran away fourteen years ago,” Millie blurted out, finally dragging her gaze from her husband. Sid shot her a lethal look.

Halley already knew from the letter Colton had received that running away had been Jessica’s plan. “Was there an argument?”

Sid Granger had his lips clamped shut. He was still glaring at his wife.

“We didn’t hear from her for a while,” Millie said timidly. “But then we got a letter from her.”

“So you’ve been in contact with her?” Halley asked. Again the Grangers exchanged a look. “You’ve talked to her?”

“She writes every year on her birthday, but there is never a return address and she mails the letters from different places. She doesn’t want us to know where she is.” Millie’s voice broke.

“It’s not us she is trying to get away from,” Sid bellowed. “It’s him!” He thrust a finger at Colton. “We lost

our daughter because of him!” He took a menacing step toward him. “I want this man out of my house. Now.”

“Let’s all settle down,” Halley said, giving Colton a warning look as she stepped between the two men.

“Jessica got away from him and I won’t have him—”

“You’re the reason she was leaving,” Colton snapped. “She would have done anything to get out of this house and away from you.”

“Maybe it would be better if you left,” Halley said, turning to glare at Colton. He was only making the situation worse.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see the letter from Jessica.”

Halley would have liked to haul him out of the house in handcuffs just as she’d warned him. “If we could all just calm down.”

“Not until that bastard is out of my house!”

“Sid, let the deputy tell us why she’s here,” Millie Granger said loudly, then quickly lowered her voice. “Please.” She kneaded again at the tear in her apron, her voice again as tiny as she was.

The tension in the room dropped a notch.

“Could we all sit down?” Halley asked.

Sid grudgingly took a chair, scowling the whole time at Colton, who sat down on one end of the couch, Halley on the other. She wondered what he’d done to Jessica that warranted this much hatred from the girl’s father. Was Colton right and it was just a father’s love of his only daughter? Or something more sinister on either of the two men’s parts?

“We need to be sure that Jessica is all right,” Halley said. “Finding her purse raises questions, as I’m sure you realize. Could I see the letters from your daughter?”

This time Millie didn’t look to her husband for guidance. She rose and, avoiding his gaze, went to a bedroom off the living room. She returned a few moments later with a small bundle of letters tied with a red ribbon.

She handed them to the deputy. As Halley undid the ribbon, she noted that there were over a dozen letters.

Before she could react, Colton stood and leaned over to snatch the top envelope from the pile.

Sid Granger shot out of his chair. Halley quickly took the letter back. But not before Colton had let out a cry that sounded almost like a sob.

“That isn’t Jessica’s handwriting,” he said, his voice breaking, as he snatched another envelope from her hand, opened it and pulled out the short letter. He looked devastated. “These letters aren’t from Jessica.”

Chapter Three

Colton felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. All these years her parents had believed she was alive because of letters that weren’t from her at all?

“How could you believe the letters were from Jessica?” he demanded.

Millie was crying and wringing her hands in the cloth of her apron. Her husband looked as if he was trying to restrain himself. Colton was glad he hadn’t opted to come here without the deputy because he was having the same problem not going for Sid Granger’s throat.

“A person’s handwriting can change,” Millie was saying through her tears.

“If she was alive, why wouldn’t she call?” Colton demanded. “Why was Jessica so afraid to let her own family know where she was unless she hated you so much—”

“You punk!” Sid Granger sprang to his feet. “It was you she was trying to get away from.”

“Why would Jessica send me a letter asking me to run away with her if I was the problem?” Colton demanded, not backing down as he, too, shot to his feet.

“Colton,” the deputy warned as she stepped between them again. “Mr. Granger, I need to know why you’re so angry at Mr. Chisholm.”

Colton narrowed his gaze at her. Clearly, she was looking for just one more reason to hang him, but he stepped back, raising his hands in surrender.

“What was it you thought Mr. Chisholm did to your daughter?” Halley asked again.

Sid Granger seemed to have trouble speaking. He swallowed several times, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Tears filled his eyes. He hastily brushed them away with his shirtsleeve. Anger reddened his face. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“He got her pregnant,” Millie said from the rocker where she’d been sitting crying.

Colton took the news like a blow. He lowered himself to the couch. Looking up, he saw the deputy’s face. She’d obviously been anticipating something like this. Was this the news Jessica had wanted to tell him that night?

“He knocked her up and refused to marry her,” Sid finally managed to get out.

“No!” Colton bellowed. “That’s a lie. I didn’t know. She never …” His voice broke with emotion as it sank in. “I didn’t know,” he said more to himself than to the people in the room. He could feel Halley’s gaze on him. He doubted she believed him any more than Sid Granger did.

“As Mr. Chisholm said, your daughter wrote him a letter before the night she was to leave,” the deputy was saying. “That letter was lost and only delivered today. In the letter, she said she wanted him to run away with her. Do you know if she met him that night?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sid snapped. “He’s sitting right there.”

“I’m asking you. When was the last time you saw your daughter?”

Millie spoke up from where the rocker. “I saw her that afternoon. She said she needed to run an errand. I wouldn’t let her take the car so she had her friend Twyla pick her up.”

“Twyla?” Halley asked.

“Twyla Reynolds.” Millie looked to Sid. He had sat back down again and now had one arm over his face. “Sid, when was the last time you saw Jessica?”

“That evening after she came home,” he said, his words muffled. “She said she was going to bed. I just assumed …”

“You have to understand,” Millie said. “The letters … We wanted to believe that she was alive. If I noticed something different about the way she wrote, I just thought it was because she’d changed over the years.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder what she’d done with the baby?” Colton asked, still angry because something had been wrong in this house or Jessica would never have been at their secret spot that night. She would never have needed to run away. She would still be alive today.

He could see that Deputy Halley Robinson was asking questions as if she still thought Jessica might be alive. She was the only person in this room, though, who believed that now.

“I’d hoped that she had the baby and was raising our grandchild …” Millie looked away.

“I’d like to have a handwriting expert look at the letters that were sent to you,” Halley said. “If you get any more, please try not to handle them so we can dust them for prints.”

Millie nodded distractedly. “We weren’t due to get another one for almost a year. I would imagine they will stop coming now.”

Only if the killer finds out that Jessica’s disappearance is being investigated, Colton thought. But the way news spread in this county, if the killer was still around, he would know soon enough.

“Do you have anything Jessica wrote before she left that we could compare it to?” Halley was asking.

Millie pushed herself to her feet. “I’m sure there is something in her room. It’s just as she left it.”

Colton started to rise to follow the deputy and Millie upstairs to Jessica’s room, but Sid Granger stopped him.

“You aren’t going in her room,” Sid said, blocking his way. “If you hadn’t gotten her pregnant …”

“Why don’t you wait outside,” Halley suggested to Colton.

He could have put up a fight, but he didn’t have any fight left in him and there was nothing more to accomplish in this house, even if he could stand another moment in it. All he could think about was Jessica. She had been pregnant with his baby. But they’d been so careful. Not that any of that mattered now.

She must have been planning to tell him about the baby that night. Hadn’t she realized that he would have been excited about the prospect of being a father? He would never have deserted her. Never.

As he left the house, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat at the realization that if he was right and Jessica had never left the spot under the trees that night, then his baby had died with her.

“I think I have everything I need for now,” Halley said a few moments later as she and Millie came out through the screen door to the porch and started down the steps to where Colton was waiting.

As she headed for her patrol SUV parked in the yard, she shot him a look. He could tell that she’d found more of Jessica’s handwriting and it matched the letter he’d received fourteen years too late—not the ones someone had been sending her parents in the interim.

“I’ll let you know what we find out,” the deputy promised Millie who’d followed them as far as the vehicle and stood looking even smaller and even more terrified.

Colton saw her glance back toward the house. Sid stood in the doorway. Millie Granger visibly shuddered at the sight of her husband. As Colton looked toward the man in the doorway, he thought of the man’s temper, his obsession with Jessica, his hatred of Colton. What if Sid had followed his daughter that night and caught her at the secret spot on the creek?

“You all right?” the deputy asked as she started the SUV.

He could feel her gaze on him as he suppressed a chill at the thought of what Sid Granger might have been capable of when it came to his daughter—was still capable of doing when it came to his wife.

“You didn’t know she was pregnant.”

It wasn’t a question but he answered anyway. “No.”

“I assume the baby was yours?”

He looked over at her, anger hitting him again with sudden heat. “Why would you even ask that? You saw the letter. She wanted me to run away with her.”

Halley nodded, but said nothing until they were back at his pickup parked at the edge of the road where he’d left it earlier. As he started to get out of the patrol car, she said, “I’m going to need a sample of your handwriting.”

EMMA WOULD HAVE SAID she was the luckiest woman in the world if anyone had asked her just three seconds ago.

Moments before she’d been lying on the soft warm blanket on the pile of hay beside her husband, his arm around her, trying to catch her breath after their love-making. She’d been wondering if other people their age still felt like this, and felt bad for them if they didn’t.

But then Hoyt’s cell phone had vibrated on the blanket beside him and he’d snatched it up, checked to see who was calling, then he’d seemed to hesitate as if wanting to take the call and yet—

“Go ahead,” Emma had said, sitting up to stretch. She knew how he was about business. Running this ranch was what kept him young.

“I really need to take this.” He rose stark naked and walked down to the end of the hayloft.

Any other time Emma wouldn’t have paid any attention, but something in the way Hoyt was standing, his back to her, his shoulders slumped over slightly, his voice low …

Her heart suddenly took off at a gallop as she noticed something that hadn’t fully registered before. This wasn’t the first time he’d checked to see who was calling and said, “I need to take this,” and hurried out of the room. Or taken the call out on the porch. Or rushed downstairs. Or, like now, moved to the other end of the hayloft. These calls weren’t about ranch business.

Ice-cold fear moved through her. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but she could read his body language. There was secrecy in the way he spoke into the phone.

Emma tried to fight the terror that clutched her heart like a fist. She told herself that she was being foolish. Hoyt loved her. Only her. She had no reason to question his love.

He snapped the phone shut, turned toward her and she saw his face and knew. Her husband looked guilty as hell.

Emma had never thought she’d be one of those women who didn’t want to know the truth. But right now, she felt too vulnerable, lying naked on a horse blanket in a hayloft after making love to the man she loved.

Quickly she hid her own face so he couldn’t see her fear as she reached for her clothes.

HALLEY CALLED SHERIFF MCCALL CRAWFORD, who was in Great Falls tied up on a federal case, to update her on the Granger case.

“Sheriff Winchester, I mean, Crawford,” McCall said with a small laugh.

The sheriff wasn’t the only one who was having trouble getting used to her married name. Most everyone in town still referred to her as Sheriff Winchester. When Halley filled the sheriff in, McCall told her to let the state crime investigators take the case from here on out—and to wait for their arrival.

When the team arrived by small plane that afternoon, she drove them to the crime scene, which a deputy had cordoned off, and waited to make sure nothing was disturbed.

Earlier, she’d told Colton to go home, warning him not to leave town.

He’d actually pulled himself together enough to chuckle at that on the drive back to his pickup from the Granger house.

“You must think I’m an idiot. You probably already suspect I’m a murderer. But do you really think I’m going to make a run for it?”

“I don’t know, are you?” He’d given her an impatient look and she’d had to ask, “So tell me about Jessica.”

“What do you want to know?” He’d sounded despondent.

“What was she like?” Halley remembered Jessica Granger, the girl Colton had started chasing at the end of junior high. Shortly after that Halley had talked her father into moving away from Whitehorse. “You were in love with her, right? There must have been a reason.”

He had looked out the side window for so long she’d thought he wasn’t going to answer. “You’re not going to understand because she wasn’t like you.”

She’d shot him a look, not sure how to take that, but taking it badly, just the same.

“Jessica wasn’t strong. She needed me.”

“That was the appeal?” Halley asked in surprise.

He had finally looked in her direction. “Jessica needed someone to take care of her, to protect her from her old man. But I failed her.”

“She needed protection from her father?” Halley couldn’t help thinking about how she herself had needed someone to protect her from Colton Chisholm. She’d had to learn to fight her own battles. No one had come to her rescue. The thought drove the arrow even deeper in her heart and made her all the more angry that Colton, when he’d finally fallen for a girl, had fallen for one who he said himself was nothing like her.

“You met Sid,” was all he said before climbing out of the patrol car.

She’d watched him go, seeing the toll this was taking on him, telling herself that a murderer might act the same way, especially if he couldn’t take the guilt anymore.

Now, as Halley watched the crime techs begin the search for a body, she told herself her suspicions about Colton had nothing to do with how she felt about him today or all those years ago when he’d broken her tender heart.

The breeze stirred the cottonwoods as the creek whispered past. It seemed too beautiful a spot for the crime techs to be looking for a young woman’s remains, but there was little doubt in her mind now that Jessica Granger was dead, that she’d died here.

Whether or not they would find Jessica, though, was another story. Halley suspected it would have been a shallow grave somewhere along this creek bottom. Which meant animals could have dug up the grave and carried away the bones years ago.

“I MIGHT NEED A LAWYER.”

Emma had been picking at her supper but looked up now as everyone else at the table turned toward Colton. Like her, he’d hardly touched his food and he’d passed on apple pie. That wasn’t like him. Hoyt hadn’t eaten much, either. There was almost a full piece of pie on his plate.

“A lawyer?” she repeated. Since Hoyt’s call in the barn, she’d tried to keep busy and think about anything but her own horrible suspicions.

“Why would you need a lawyer?” Hoyt asked.

Colton rubbed a hand over his jaw. “To make a long story short, there’s at least one law enforcement officer in the county who thinks I killed Jessica Granger.”

Hoyt froze, fork in hand. “What? I thought she left town.”

Emma noticed that her husband had gone very pale.

“Apparently, she planned on leaving but I don’t think she made it. Neither does the deputy now scouring a spot not far from here for her remains,” Colton said, pain in his voice.

“I don’t understand why they would think someone killed her,” Hoyt said and Emma found herself studying her husband. Of course he’d be upset about such an allegation against his son, but when he set down his fork, she saw that his hand was shaking.

A bad feeling lodged itself in her chest as Colton proceeded to tell them about a lost letter, finding Jessica’s purse buried under a tree root and calling the Sheriff’s Department.

“Halley Robinson?” his brother, Tanner, asked with a smirk. “Isn’t that the girl that you used to—”

“She’s the new deputy,” Colton said, shooting his brother a warning look.

Emma waited for Hoyt to jump in. When he didn’t, she felt as if her world had suddenly shifted on its axis and nothing was as it had been just hours before.

“Isn’t it possible the girl isn’t even dead? They haven’t found anything yet, right?” she asked.

Colton shook his head. “She wouldn’t have left without her purse.”

“What does the sheriff have to say about this?” Hoyt asked.

“From what I’ve been able to find out, the sheriff is busy in federal court on another case. This one has been turned over to the state crime team, but a fourteen-year-old possible murder isn’t going to be at the top of their list of investigations. Even if the sheriff was in town, I’m not sure it would keep Halley from trying to railroad me.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to change this Halley person’s mind,” Emma said and saw her husband give her a sympathetic smile at her naiveté.

“Emma’s is one approach,” Hoyt said. “We’ll also get you the best lawyer money can buy, just in case you can’t convince this woman that you’re innocent. I take it the two of you have some kind of history?”

“You could say that,” Tanner said.

His other brothers had been feeding their faces, but now joined in. “Wait a minute,” Zane said. “That’s not that little dark-haired skinny girl—”

“She isn’t so little anymore,” Dawson said, laughing. “I saw her but didn’t realize she was Halley Robinson. She’s gorgeous.” He let out a whistle.

Emma could see that Colton was at the end of his rope as Logan and Marshall chimed in with similar remarks.

“Let’s take our dishes into the kitchen and let your father and Colton talk about this alone,” she suggested, then stood and gave them each a look that sent the bunch of them quickly to their feet.

Colton shot her a thankful glance as she marched them all to the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

“Okay,” she said once they were out of hearing range. “Tell me about this Halley Robinson.”

HALLEY FOUND HER FATHER out in the south forty. He looked up as she came riding in. His face crinkled into a smile at the sight of her and she knew she’d made the right decision coming back to Whitehorse, Montana, with him.

He’d missed ranching and she knew the only reason he’d left here was because she’d been so unhappy. They were the only family they had.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Geoff Robinson said as he finished tightening the top strand of barbed wire, then pulled off his gloves and turned all his attention to his daughter. “Everything all right?”

“I tried to call you on your cell,” she said, swinging down from her horse.

“Oh, hell,” he said feeling in his pocket. He grinned. “Guess I forgot it on the kitchen table. Sorry.”

“It’s all right. I needed the ride anyway.” She’d been worried about him when she couldn’t reach him and hadn’t even thought to check to see if he’d taken his cell phone. He hated the damn thing and said one of the reasons he’d wanted to come back to Whitehorse was so he didn’t have to carry it.

Still it worried her, him being out here alone, even though she could see how happy he was working on this old place.

“Should be able to get some cattle soon,” he said now, smiling at her. “Just a big enough herd to make a little profit and keep us fed.” His smile fell. “Rough day?”

“Had to go out to the Chisholm place,” she said.

“Chisholm, huh.”

“Colton Chisholm called the Sheriff’s Department because he found his former girlfriend’s purse buried in a spot the two of them used to meet fourteen years ago. There’s a crime tech team searching for her remains as we speak.”

“Is that right?”

She shot him a warning look.

“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “I know that boy drove you crazy but you held your own and quite frankly, I think—”

“I know what you thought,” she said, cutting him off. Her father had told her she had to learn to fight her own battles. And she had. She knew he believed it had made her stronger, being raised like a son instead of a daughter.

But then he’d also thought that Colton Chisholm was just trying to get her attention all those years ago. Well, he certainly had her attention now.

Chapter Three

Colton felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. All these years her parents had believed she was alive because of letters that weren’t from her at all?

“How could you believe the letters were from Jessica?” he demanded.

Millie was crying and wringing her hands in the cloth of her apron. Her husband looked as if he was trying to restrain himself. Colton was glad he hadn’t opted to come here without the deputy because he was having the same problem not going for Sid Granger’s throat.

“A person’s handwriting can change,” Millie was saying through her tears.

“If she was alive, why wouldn’t she call?” Colton demanded. “Why was Jessica so afraid to let her own family know where she was unless she hated you so much—”

“You punk!” Sid Granger sprang to his feet. “It was you she was trying to get away from.”

“Why would Jessica send me a letter asking me to run away with her if I was the problem?” Colton demanded, not backing down as he, too, shot to his feet.

“Colton,” the deputy warned as she stepped between them again. “Mr. Granger, I need to know why you’re so angry at Mr. Chisholm.”

Colton narrowed his gaze at her. Clearly, she was looking for just one more reason to hang him, but he stepped back, raising his hands in surrender.

“What was it you thought Mr. Chisholm did to your daughter?” Halley asked again.

Sid Granger seemed to have trouble speaking. He swallowed several times, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Tears filled his eyes. He hastily brushed them away with his shirtsleeve. Anger reddened his face. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“He got her pregnant,” Millie said from the rocker where she’d been sitting crying.

Colton took the news like a blow. He lowered himself to the couch. Looking up, he saw the deputy’s face. She’d obviously been anticipating something like this. Was this the news Jessica had wanted to tell him that night?

“He knocked her up and refused to marry her,” Sid finally managed to get out.

“No!” Colton bellowed. “That’s a lie. I didn’t know. She never …” His voice broke with emotion as it sank in. “I didn’t know,” he said more to himself than to the people in the room. He could feel Halley’s gaze on him. He doubted she believed him any more than Sid Granger did.

“As Mr. Chisholm said, your daughter wrote him a letter before the night she was to leave,” the deputy was saying. “That letter was lost and only delivered today. In the letter, she said she wanted him to run away with her. Do you know if she met him that night?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sid snapped. “He’s sitting right there.”

“I’m asking you. When was the last time you saw your daughter?”

Millie spoke up from where the rocker. “I saw her that afternoon. She said she needed to run an errand. I wouldn’t let her take the car so she had her friend Twyla pick her up.”

“Twyla?” Halley asked.

“Twyla Reynolds.” Millie looked to Sid. He had sat back down again and now had one arm over his face. “Sid, when was the last time you saw Jessica?”

“That evening after she came home,” he said, his words muffled. “She said she was going to bed. I just assumed …”

“You have to understand,” Millie said. “The letters … We wanted to believe that she was alive. If I noticed something different about the way she wrote, I just thought it was because she’d changed over the years.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder what she’d done with the baby?” Colton asked, still angry because something had been wrong in this house or Jessica would never have been at their secret spot that night. She would never have needed to run away. She would still be alive today.

He could see that Deputy Halley Robinson was asking questions as if she still thought Jessica might be alive. She was the only person in this room, though, who believed that now.

“I’d hoped that she had the baby and was raising our grandchild …” Millie looked away.

“I’d like to have a handwriting expert look at the letters that were sent to you,” Halley said. “If you get any more, please try not to handle them so we can dust them for prints.”

Millie nodded distractedly. “We weren’t due to get another one for almost a year. I would imagine they will stop coming now.”

Only if the killer finds out that Jessica’s disappearance is being investigated, Colton thought. But the way news spread in this county, if the killer was still around, he would know soon enough.

“Do you have anything Jessica wrote before she left that we could compare it to?” Halley was asking.

Millie pushed herself to her feet. “I’m sure there is something in her room. It’s just as she left it.”

Colton started to rise to follow the deputy and Millie upstairs to Jessica’s room, but Sid Granger stopped him.

“You aren’t going in her room,” Sid said, blocking his way. “If you hadn’t gotten her pregnant …”

“Why don’t you wait outside,” Halley suggested to Colton.

He could have put up a fight, but he didn’t have any fight left in him and there was nothing more to accomplish in this house, even if he could stand another moment in it. All he could think about was Jessica. She had been pregnant with his baby. But they’d been so careful. Not that any of that mattered now.

She must have been planning to tell him about the baby that night. Hadn’t she realized that he would have been excited about the prospect of being a father? He would never have deserted her. Never.

As he left the house, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat at the realization that if he was right and Jessica had never left the spot under the trees that night, then his baby had died with her.

“I think I have everything I need for now,” Halley said a few moments later as she and Millie came out through the screen door to the porch and started down the steps to where Colton was waiting.

As she headed for her patrol SUV parked in the yard, she shot him a look. He could tell that she’d found more of Jessica’s handwriting and it matched the letter he’d received fourteen years too late—not the ones someone had been sending her parents in the interim.

“I’ll let you know what we find out,” the deputy promised Millie who’d followed them as far as the vehicle and stood looking even smaller and even more terrified.

Colton saw her glance back toward the house. Sid stood in the doorway. Millie Granger visibly shuddered at the sight of her husband. As Colton looked toward the man in the doorway, he thought of the man’s temper, his obsession with Jessica, his hatred of Colton. What if Sid had followed his daughter that night and caught her at the secret spot on the creek?

“You all right?” the deputy asked as she started the SUV.

He could feel her gaze on him as he suppressed a chill at the thought of what Sid Granger might have been capable of when it came to his daughter—was still capable of doing when it came to his wife.

“You didn’t know she was pregnant.”

It wasn’t a question but he answered anyway. “No.”

“I assume the baby was yours?”

He looked over at her, anger hitting him again with sudden heat. “Why would you even ask that? You saw the letter. She wanted me to run away with her.”

Halley nodded, but said nothing until they were back at his pickup parked at the edge of the road where he’d left it earlier. As he started to get out of the patrol car, she said, “I’m going to need a sample of your handwriting.”

EMMA WOULD HAVE SAID she was the luckiest woman in the world if anyone had asked her just three seconds ago.

Moments before she’d been lying on the soft warm blanket on the pile of hay beside her husband, his arm around her, trying to catch her breath after their love-making. She’d been wondering if other people their age still felt like this, and felt bad for them if they didn’t.

But then Hoyt’s cell phone had vibrated on the blanket beside him and he’d snatched it up, checked to see who was calling, then he’d seemed to hesitate as if wanting to take the call and yet—

“Go ahead,” Emma had said, sitting up to stretch. She knew how he was about business. Running this ranch was what kept him young.

“I really need to take this.” He rose stark naked and walked down to the end of the hayloft.

Any other time Emma wouldn’t have paid any attention, but something in the way Hoyt was standing, his back to her, his shoulders slumped over slightly, his voice low …

Her heart suddenly took off at a gallop as she noticed something that hadn’t fully registered before. This wasn’t the first time he’d checked to see who was calling and said, “I need to take this,” and hurried out of the room. Or taken the call out on the porch. Or rushed downstairs. Or, like now, moved to the other end of the hayloft. These calls weren’t about ranch business.

Ice-cold fear moved through her. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but she could read his body language. There was secrecy in the way he spoke into the phone.

Emma tried to fight the terror that clutched her heart like a fist. She told herself that she was being foolish. Hoyt loved her. Only her. She had no reason to question his love.

He snapped the phone shut, turned toward her and she saw his face and knew. Her husband looked guilty as hell.

Emma had never thought she’d be one of those women who didn’t want to know the truth. But right now, she felt too vulnerable, lying naked on a horse blanket in a hayloft after making love to the man she loved.

Quickly she hid her own face so he couldn’t see her fear as she reached for her clothes.

HALLEY CALLED SHERIFF MCCALL CRAWFORD, who was in Great Falls tied up on a federal case, to update her on the Granger case.

“Sheriff Winchester, I mean, Crawford,” McCall said with a small laugh.

The sheriff wasn’t the only one who was having trouble getting used to her married name. Most everyone in town still referred to her as Sheriff Winchester. When Halley filled the sheriff in, McCall told her to let the state crime investigators take the case from here on out—and to wait for their arrival.

When the team arrived by small plane that afternoon, she drove them to the crime scene, which a deputy had cordoned off, and waited to make sure nothing was disturbed.

Earlier, she’d told Colton to go home, warning him not to leave town.

He’d actually pulled himself together enough to chuckle at that on the drive back to his pickup from the Granger house.

“You must think I’m an idiot. You probably already suspect I’m a murderer. But do you really think I’m going to make a run for it?”

“I don’t know, are you?” He’d given her an impatient look and she’d had to ask, “So tell me about Jessica.”

“What do you want to know?” He’d sounded despondent.

“What was she like?” Halley remembered Jessica Granger, the girl Colton had started chasing at the end of junior high. Shortly after that Halley had talked her father into moving away from Whitehorse. “You were in love with her, right? There must have been a reason.”

He had looked out the side window for so long she’d thought he wasn’t going to answer. “You’re not going to understand because she wasn’t like you.”

She’d shot him a look, not sure how to take that, but taking it badly, just the same.

“Jessica wasn’t strong. She needed me.”

“That was the appeal?” Halley asked in surprise.

He had finally looked in her direction. “Jessica needed someone to take care of her, to protect her from her old man. But I failed her.”

“She needed protection from her father?” Halley couldn’t help thinking about how she herself had needed someone to protect her from Colton Chisholm. She’d had to learn to fight her own battles. No one had come to her rescue. The thought drove the arrow even deeper in her heart and made her all the more angry that Colton, when he’d finally fallen for a girl, had fallen for one who he said himself was nothing like her.

“You met Sid,” was all he said before climbing out of the patrol car.

She’d watched him go, seeing the toll this was taking on him, telling herself that a murderer might act the same way, especially if he couldn’t take the guilt anymore.

Now, as Halley watched the crime techs begin the search for a body, she told herself her suspicions about Colton had nothing to do with how she felt about him today or all those years ago when he’d broken her tender heart.

The breeze stirred the cottonwoods as the creek whispered past. It seemed too beautiful a spot for the crime techs to be looking for a young woman’s remains, but there was little doubt in her mind now that Jessica Granger was dead, that she’d died here.

Whether or not they would find Jessica, though, was another story. Halley suspected it would have been a shallow grave somewhere along this creek bottom. Which meant animals could have dug up the grave and carried away the bones years ago.

“I MIGHT NEED A LAWYER.”

Emma had been picking at her supper but looked up now as everyone else at the table turned toward Colton. Like her, he’d hardly touched his food and he’d passed on apple pie. That wasn’t like him. Hoyt hadn’t eaten much, either. There was almost a full piece of pie on his plate.

“A lawyer?” she repeated. Since Hoyt’s call in the barn, she’d tried to keep busy and think about anything but her own horrible suspicions.

“Why would you need a lawyer?” Hoyt asked.

Colton rubbed a hand over his jaw. “To make a long story short, there’s at least one law enforcement officer in the county who thinks I killed Jessica Granger.”

Hoyt froze, fork in hand. “What? I thought she left town.”

Emma noticed that her husband had gone very pale.

“Apparently, she planned on leaving but I don’t think she made it. Neither does the deputy now scouring a spot not far from here for her remains,” Colton said, pain in his voice.

“I don’t understand why they would think someone killed her,” Hoyt said and Emma found herself studying her husband. Of course he’d be upset about such an allegation against his son, but when he set down his fork, she saw that his hand was shaking.

A bad feeling lodged itself in her chest as Colton proceeded to tell them about a lost letter, finding Jessica’s purse buried under a tree root and calling the Sheriff’s Department.

“Halley Robinson?” his brother, Tanner, asked with a smirk. “Isn’t that the girl that you used to—”

“She’s the new deputy,” Colton said, shooting his brother a warning look.

Emma waited for Hoyt to jump in. When he didn’t, she felt as if her world had suddenly shifted on its axis and nothing was as it had been just hours before.

“Isn’t it possible the girl isn’t even dead? They haven’t found anything yet, right?” she asked.

Colton shook his head. “She wouldn’t have left without her purse.”

“What does the sheriff have to say about this?” Hoyt asked.

“From what I’ve been able to find out, the sheriff is busy in federal court on another case. This one has been turned over to the state crime team, but a fourteen-year-old possible murder isn’t going to be at the top of their list of investigations. Even if the sheriff was in town, I’m not sure it would keep Halley from trying to railroad me.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to change this Halley person’s mind,” Emma said and saw her husband give her a sympathetic smile at her naiveté.

“Emma’s is one approach,” Hoyt said. “We’ll also get you the best lawyer money can buy, just in case you can’t convince this woman that you’re innocent. I take it the two of you have some kind of history?”

“You could say that,” Tanner said.

His other brothers had been feeding their faces, but now joined in. “Wait a minute,” Zane said. “That’s not that little dark-haired skinny girl—”

“She isn’t so little anymore,” Dawson said, laughing. “I saw her but didn’t realize she was Halley Robinson. She’s gorgeous.” He let out a whistle.

Emma could see that Colton was at the end of his rope as Logan and Marshall chimed in with similar remarks.

“Let’s take our dishes into the kitchen and let your father and Colton talk about this alone,” she suggested, then stood and gave them each a look that sent the bunch of them quickly to their feet.

Colton shot her a thankful glance as she marched them all to the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

“Okay,” she said once they were out of hearing range. “Tell me about this Halley Robinson.”

HALLEY FOUND HER FATHER out in the south forty. He looked up as she came riding in. His face crinkled into a smile at the sight of her and she knew she’d made the right decision coming back to Whitehorse, Montana, with him.

He’d missed ranching and she knew the only reason he’d left here was because she’d been so unhappy. They were the only family they had.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Geoff Robinson said as he finished tightening the top strand of barbed wire, then pulled off his gloves and turned all his attention to his daughter. “Everything all right?”

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