Praise for New York Times Bestselling Author Carla Cassidy

“Solid storytelling and sympathetic, genuine characters will draw readers in from the start … this is one amazing read.”

—RT Book Reviews on A Real Cowboy

“Carla Cassidy has made this an extremely hard book to put down. The pages just flew past! A very talented and colorful author!”

—Fresh Fiction on Mercenary’s Perfect Mission

“Cassidy delivers with a one-two punch of intriguing suspense and tantalizing romance. A sure bet, this romantic read will have readers rooting for a reunion.”

—RT Book Reviews on Scene of the Crime: Baton Rouge

“[An] action-packed romantic suspense starring an amazing female and her deceiving beloved.”

—The Best Reviews on Deceived

“[A] taut, fast-paced romantic thriller … romance shines.”

—Publishers Weekly

Cowboy at Arms

Carla Cassidy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CARLA CASSIDY is a New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one hundred books for Mills & Boon. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.

Contents

Cover

Praise

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Man up, Dusty Crawford commanded himself as he stared at the front door of the Bitterroot Café. It was almost nine o’clock on Friday night and the summer sun just barely skimmed the horizon in its downward descent.

As darkness slowly fell, the interior of the brightly lit café became more visible. He’d waited to arrive until late enough in the day that the dinner hour would be over and the popular eatery would be less crowded.

He’d wrestled stubborn cattle and faced more than one marauding cougar over the years, and yet the thought of the beautiful blonde waitress inside the café had him nearly shaking in his boots.

He turned his head at the sound of several doors slamming nearby. He narrowed his gaze as he watched three cowboys amble from the parking lot toward the café’s front door.

Zeke Osmond, Greg Albertson and Shep Harmon all worked on the ranch next to the Holiday spread where Dusty had worked and lived since he was fourteen years old. For the most part all of the men who were part of the Humes ranch were mean and liked nothing more than to stir up trouble wherever they went.

The Humes men were suspected of all kinds of mischief on the Holiday land, including tearing down fencing, setting nuisance fires and the occasional cattle disappearance.

As they went inside the building, Dusty shoved thoughts of them out of his head. He needed to focus on the reason he was here. After a little over six months of small talk whenever he ate at the café, tonight he was here to ask Trisha Cahill out on an official date.

He took off his black cowboy hat and set it on the passenger seat and then raked his hand through his hair. Drawing a deep breath for courage, he finally left his pickup truck and headed for the café door.

When he stepped inside, his nose was immediately assailed by the scents of fried potatoes and onions, a variety of simmering meats and a faint whiff of apples and cinnamon.

Even though it was late for dinner there was still a crowd at the tables and booths. This wasn’t just a place to eat in the small town of Bitterroot, Oklahoma; it was also a place where folks came to visit with neighbors and catch up with the local gossip.

His gaze instantly found Trisha, who was taking an order from Steve Kaufman, a widower who lived alone and spent most evenings in the café sipping coffee and reading a book.

Dusty headed toward an empty booth that he knew was in Trisha’s area and sat. He grabbed one of the plastic menus propped up between squeeze bottles of mustard and ketchup. He opened it even though he’d long ago memorized everything that the café had to offer.

Nerves jangled in the pit of his stomach. You’re being ridiculous, he told himself. The worst thing that could happen was that Trisha would tell him in no uncertain terms that she had no interest in going out with him. He could live with that. He’d certainly survived much worse in his twenty-nine years on earth.

He closed the menu and returned it to its place and then looked up and smiled as Trisha approached his booth. “Hi, Dusty. You’re a little later than usual tonight,” she said. Her eyes were the color of a clear summer sky and filled with her casual friendliness.

“Yeah, I decided to skip Daisy’s Friday night meat-loaf dinner and I ate at the ranch instead,” he replied. Her pale blond hair was pulled up into a slightly messy ponytail, and Dusty’s fingers itched with the desire to release all of it from its confinement.

“So, what can I get for you?” she asked.

“I’ll take one of Daisy’s apple dumplings and a cup of coffee.”

“I’ll have it to you in just a jiffy.” She turned and left his booth.

Dusty released a pent-up sigh. He’d ask her out after he’d eaten his dessert. Maybe by then a lot of the people would be gone and she’d be less busy.

Within minutes Dusty had his dumpling and coffee and Trisha had hurried to another table after serving him. As he ate he watched her taking care of her customers. She had a cheerful smile for everyone and she looked totally hot in her slim-fitting blue jeans and the red T-shirt with gold lettering advertising the café.

Despite the fact that he’d been interested in her for months, he really knew very little about her other than she lived in the Bitterroot Motel and had a young son and she was one of the most popular, well-liked waitresses at the café.

By the time he’d finished his dumpling and was nursing a second cup of coffee, the crowd had finally begun to thin out. He motioned to Trisha and she hurried over to his booth. “Ready for your check?” she asked.

“Actually, I was wondering if you had a minute to sit with me,” he replied.

She looked around at the diners remaining in her area and then nodded. “Sure, I can take a few minutes.”

It wasn’t uncommon for her to occasionally sit and visit with Dusty when things were slow in the café. She slid into the opposite side of the booth and smiled at him once again. “It feels good to take a little break and get off my feet. We’ve been fairly swamped since about five o’clock. It seemed like everyone in the entire town decided to eat out tonight. Speaking of people in town, I heard through the grapevine that Forest Stevens moved away.”

“Yeah, he found true love with Dr. Patience Forbes, the forensic anthropologist who was at the ranch examining the bones in the pit that were found. He moved with her to Oklahoma City a week ago.” And every day of the past week, Dusty had missed the big cowboy who had been his best friend since he was a scrawny, homeless thirteen-year-old.

“Good for him,” Trisha replied. “I hope they both get their happily-ever-after.”

Ask her, a little voice niggled in the back of his brain. For the first time in your life, step up and go after what you really want. “Trisha, I was wondering if maybe tonight after your shift you’d like to go to the Watering Hole and have a drink with me?”

Her eyes widened and darkened and she quickly looked down at the tabletop. Dusty’s heart sank into his boots. He should have known better. Why would a gorgeous woman like her be interested in a cowboy like him? Besides, he knew that plenty of other men had asked her out and she’d rejected all of them. Why would he be any different?

She was silent for a long moment and just when Dusty was about to tell her never mind, to forget that he’d even asked, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Dusty. I couldn’t possibly go tonight. My son is with his babysitter and she’s expecting me home right after work.”

“No problem,” he replied hurriedly. He was just grateful that he’d already eaten his dumpling and could now make a quick escape.

“Maybe I could work something out with her for tomorrow night after work.” Her cheeks flushed a charming pink. “I mean, if you’d still want to.”

“Sure, I’d love to,” he said as his heart once again lifted buoyantly in his chest.

“I work until ten tomorrow night. I could meet you at the Watering Hole around ten thirty or so.”

He sat up straighter and smiled at her. “That sounds perfect. Why don’t I give you my cell phone number in case it doesn’t work out with your babysitter?” He grabbed a napkin and then used her pen to write down his number, and she wrote hers down for him, as well.

She scooted out of the booth, took the napkin with his number from him and stuffed it into her back pocket. “Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night.” She tore his tab off her ordering pad, slid it onto the table and then scurried away from the booth.

A wave of excitement swept through him. He’d done it. He’d not only gotten up the nerve to finally ask her out, but she’d actually accepted. He got up and walked to the cash register, where the owner of the café, Daisy Martin, greeted him with a wide grin.

“I saw you passing notes with Trisha. Are you trying to make time with one of my best waitresses?” she asked.

“Definitely trying to,” he replied. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

Daisy’s smile fell and she glanced over to Trisha, who was pouring coffee for the three men from the Humes ranch. She looked back at Dusty. “I hope you have the right intentions where she’s concerned. She’s a good woman and she deserves only the very best.”

“Daisy, I didn’t know you were such a protective mama bear,” he said teasingly as he tucked his change into his back pocket.

Daisy swept a strand of her flaming red hair behind an ear. “I am when it comes to the girls who work for me. They’re closer to me than most of my family.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Daisy. Besides, I didn’t ask her to jump into my bed or anything like that. I just asked her to have drinks at the Watering Hole with me,” Dusty replied.

“Whatever—you just make sure you treat her right. Like I said before, she deserves only the best.”

Minutes later Dusty was in his truck and headed back to the Holiday ranch. There was no question that he was eager to spend some time with Trisha away from her work. He’d been drawn to her for a long time. But he couldn’t help thinking about what Daisy had said, that Trisha was a good woman who deserved only the best.

You’re nothing but a sniveling punk.

The very sight of you makes me sick to my stomach.

You’ll never amount to anything.

The hurtful words exploded in Dusty’s head and he gripped the steering wheel more tightly as he battled to shove the deep, gravelly voice back into his past where it belonged.

It’s just drinks, he reminded himself. He certainly hadn’t proclaimed his undying love for Trisha. He didn’t know what his intentions were toward the attractive woman. He didn’t know her well enough yet.

The truth of the matter was that he didn’t know if he was strong enough, smart enough or good enough to be with a woman like Trisha.

He reached up and touched his left ear, where he hadn’t heard a sound since he was thirteen and had climbed out of a bedroom window to escape the man he’d feared would eventually kill him.

Nobody, not even his best friend, Forest, knew that Dusty was deaf in one ear.

He knew with confidence that he was a good cowboy. Cass Holiday had seen to that. But Cass was dead now, and Dusty was left with the sinking feeling that he really wasn’t good enough for any woman.

* * *

It was just after ten o’clock when Trisha got into her car and headed to the Bitterroot Motel, where she and her son had been living for a little over two and a half years.

As she drove the short distance, her thoughts were filled with the cowboy who had asked her to have drinks with him.

There was no question that she was physically attracted to Dusty Crawford. He had hair the color of sun-kissed wheat and eyes the hue of a cobalt bottle. Deep dimples flashed charmingly with his smiles that warmed her as no other man’s had in a very long time.

They’d chatted often enough at the café that she knew she also liked his sunny disposition and easygoing attitude. Despite their interactions at her workplace, she only knew him superficially, and an excitement she hadn’t felt in a very long time fluttered inside her at the thought of finally getting to know him better.

Is it safe?

Has enough time passed?

The troubling questions flew into her head unbidden and sent a new tension churning in the pit of her stomach. Surely after a little over three long years she was finally safe here and didn’t have to worry about her past reaching out to torture her or anyone else ever again. Surely it was finally safe for her to believe that a happy future was possible for her and her son.

Any disturbing thoughts she might have momentarily entertained disappeared as she pulled up in front of unit 4 at the motel. The units were small but also had full kitchenettes, and the weekly rent was low enough that between her wages and her tips she’d been able to sock away some savings.

Still, she knew it was past time to make a move. It wasn’t right to be raising a three-year-old little boy in the confines of a motel room. She was hoping that in the next couple of weeks or so she would find a small house to rent, a house where Cooper could play in the yard and have his very own room.

With thoughts of her son filling her heart, she left her car and hurried toward the motel room door. She unlocked and opened it to see Juanita in the chair next to the bed where Cooper slept soundly. Juanita closed the tabloid she’d been reading and got out of the chair.

She joined Trisha at the door. “As usual he was a good boy today,” she said softly. “We played outside on the swing set and then spent the hot hours of the afternoon playing games and watching movies inside. He ate a good dinner and then took a bath before he went to bed.”

“Thanks, Juanita. I was wondering if maybe tomorrow night you could stay a little later than usual. Maybe until around midnight?”

Juanita’s broad face wreathed in a smile and one of her thick dark eyebrows danced upward. “Does Cinderella have a ball to attend?”

Trisha bit back a laugh. “No, nothing quite as elegant as that...just drinks with a cowboy.”

“And who is this lucky cowboy?”

“Dusty Crawford from the Holiday ranch.”

Juanita quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Something evil walked on that land.”

Trisha knew she was referring to the seven skeletons that had been found on the property...skeletons who had once been young men who had been murdered over a decade ago.

“Hopefully, Chief of Police Bowie will find out who was responsible for that evil,” Trisha replied.

Juanita nodded soberly and then smiled once again. “Staying late tomorrow night is no problem. It’s about time you did something for yourself.”

“Thanks, Juanita. I don’t know what I would do without you. Now, go home and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

Trisha watched from the doorway as the older woman got into her car and then left the motel parking lot. Juanita Gomez had been a godsend since Trisha had begun working at the café.

The older Hispanic woman had lost her husband five years before to a heart attack, and with all of her children grown and living in different towns, Juanita had suffered from empty-nest and had wanted a babysitting job.

She was a kind, loving person and Trisha was grateful to have her taking care of her son. She closed and locked the motel room door and then gazed at the little boy in the king-size bed.

Cooper’s white-blond hair was in boyish disarray, reminding her that he was way overdue for a haircut. A small smile curved his lips, as if his dreams were good ones. She hoped he always had wonderful dreams. He was her heart and soul and she would do anything necessary to keep him happy and safe.

She went into the bathroom and stripped off her clothes and threw them into a hamper. It took her a few minutes to take a quick shower and then change into a clean nightshirt.

It was only when she was in bed in the dark room that her thoughts once again filled with Dusty Crawford. During her time working as a waitress, plenty of men had asked her out and she’d always declined the offers.

But as much as Cooper filled her life, over the past couple of months she’d found herself hungering for something more. Dusty had always created a little sizzle of electricity in her.

Was he the right man for the rest of her life? She couldn’t know for sure. What she did know was that he was the right man at the right time to ask her out tonight.

Is it safe?

The three words thundered in her brain. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shoved away the fear that tried to take hold of her.

She’d lived in fear for the past three years. Surely she could finally let go of it now. Surely after all this time, after all the measures she’d taken, she wasn’t in any danger anymore.

With a tentative hope for a brighter future, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. She awakened to little hands on either side of her face. “Mommy, it’s time to wake up.”

Trisha opened her eyes and gazed into the beautiful blue eyes of her son. “Says who?”

“Says Cooper!” he exclaimed.

“Cooper who?”

“Cooper Cahill.”

It was a silly conversation they had almost every morning when he awakened her. She sat up and grinned at him. “And the tickle bug is about to attack Cooper Cahill.” She proceeded to tickle Cooper until his childish giggles filled the room where the early morning sun drifted in around the edges of the gold curtains at the window.

Minutes later the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air and Cooper sat at the small kitchen table eating a bowl of cereal. Between bites he told her everything he wanted to do before she went to work at two that afternoon.

“We can swing and then we can play cowboys. You can be a bad guy and I’ll be a good guy.”

“Why do I always have to be the bad guy?” Trisha asked in amusement.

“’Cause I’m always a good guy,” Cooper replied as if that made perfect sense.

Thankfully, the only bad guys Cooper knew were little action-figure cowboys he deemed to be bank robbers and cattle rustlers. She could only hope that he would never know the kind of true evil she’d once experienced.

The morning passed far too quickly as she and Cooper played outside on the motel playground and then moved inside when the heat of the day began to build. As usual when they played cowboys, his good guys put her bad guys in jail.

At one thirty Trisha donned a clean pair of jeans and the red T-shirt that identified her as one of the waitresses at the Bitterroot Café. She then stared into the closet at her meager wardrobe.

New clothes for herself hadn’t been a priority over the past couple of years. She joyously bought for Cooper, but she’d rather tuck any spare money away in her savings fund to get them out of this motel room than buy anything new for herself.

She finally pulled out a royal blue sleeveless cotton blouse to change into later that night for her date with Dusty. She knew the blouse fit her well and brought out the color of her eyes.

She’d managed to get through the morning and early afternoon without thinking about meeting him after work for drinks, but now doubts began to plague her.

The doubts continued and followed her into work. Maybe she should just call him and cancel, she thought as she took dinner orders. What had sounded like a nice idea the night before now filled her with a nervous energy.

You deserve to spend some time with a handsome man who makes your heart flutter more than a little bit, she told herself firmly. Even Juanita said you deserved it. It’s only one night...a couple of hours at the most.

Luckily, on a Saturday night, the dinner rush was busy enough that she didn’t have much time to focus on her warring thoughts where meeting Dusty was concerned.

It was just after six o’clock when Zeke Osmond, Greg Albertson and Lloyd Green walked through the door and grabbed a booth in her section. Trisha swallowed a sigh.

She hated waiting on these men, who were not only rude and often lewd, but also pigs who didn’t tip worth a darn. Greg wasn’t too bad, but both Zeke and Lloyd made her skin crawl.

She gripped her order pad tightly in her hand and walked over to the booth were they were seated. “Good evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you all?”

“Trisha, honey, if you were on the menu I’d order you up in a hot minute,” Zeke said, his dark eyes gliding over her from head to toe. “In fact, I’d make it a double order to go.”

Lloyd elbowed his younger buddy and offered Trisha an apologetic smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Trisha. You know he’s just a dumb knucklehead.”

Daisy ambled over to the booth and smiled at Trisha. “Trisha, why don’t you go ahead and take your break now? I’ll take care of these rascals.”

With a sigh of relief, Trisha headed for the break room in the back of the café. Once inside the small room, she sat in one of the chairs and stared at her blouse hanging on a nearby coatrack. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and gazed down at the keypad.

She’d already put Dusty’s phone number into her list of contacts. All she had to do was punch a couple of buttons and she would be connected to him.

Desire battled with the old fear that had become so familiar. Was she a complete fool to believe that she could really have a normal life? A life that included going on dates with handsome cowboys and hopefully someday finding a special man who would love not only her but also her son?

She slid her phone back into her pocket. She wasn’t going to cancel meeting Dusty. She had no idea if he might be that special man, but she’d never know if she didn’t take a chance.

Is it safe?

She could only hope that she was truly free of the evil of her past.

Chapter 2

Dusty stood in front of the mirror above the sink in his tiny bathroom and gazed at his reflection. Hair neatly combed...check. Light blue dress shirt buttoned and tucked into his jeans...check.

He grabbed a bottle of spicy cologne and splashed it on both sides of his neck and beneath his jaw and then left the bathroom. He was ready ridiculously early. It was only a few minutes before nine.

Nerves bounced around in the pit of his stomach. He’d drive himself crazy if he cooled his heels alone in the small bunk room he called home.

He stepped out the door and gazed down the length of the motel-like units where the cowboys who worked on the Holiday ranch lived. None of the other men were anywhere in sight.

He began the walk around to the back of the building where the cowboy dining room and a recreation area were located. Most of the men would be in town on a Saturday night, but there were always a few who preferred hanging out together in the rec room.

“Whoa, we could smell you coming from a mile away,” Adam Benson, the ranch foreman, exclaimed as he waved a hand in front of his nose when Dusty walked in.

“And he’s nice and cleaned up, too,” Tony Nakni, another ranch hand, added. “Hot date?”

“I don’t know how hot it’s going to be, but I’m meeting Trisha at the Watering Hole after she gets off work at the café,” Dusty said and sank down on a chair next to Tony.

Tony clapped him on the back. “So, you finally got up the nerve to ask her out.”

“Yeah, and even more surprising is that she actually agreed to meet with me.” Nerves once again kicked up in the pit of Dusty’s stomach.

“Well, it’s about time,” Adam replied. “You’ve been half-crazy about her forever.”

“You’re one to talk. Everyone knows you have a thing for Cassie. When are you going to ask her out on an official date?” Dusty asked.

Cassie Peterson had inherited the ranch from her aunt Cass, the woman who had taken in a bunch of dysfunctional, lost young boys and turned them into not just cowboys, but also strong and capable men.

There had been a lot of speculation as to whether the pretty blonde would stay and work the ranch or sell it and return to New York City, where she had a store that sold her original oil paintings, among other things.

The crime scene that had been discovered on the property had temporarily halted any plans she might have entertained of selling the ranch, but none of them knew what Cassie’s next move might be now that the skeletons had been removed.

“Yeah, maybe if you cozied up to her a little bit more then you could convince her to stick around here,” Tony said to Adam.

“You all know that the last thing I want is for her to sell out and leave us all not only jobless but homeless and separated, as well,” Adam replied.

They were all silent for a long moment. With the help of social worker Francine Rogers, Cass Holiday had taken in a dozen runaway boys to work her ranch. As they’d grown and matured, they had formed a family unit and Dusty had considered each one of the other men a brother.

As the others continued to speculate on Cassie’s future plans for the ranch, Dusty was far more concerned about his own imminent future and his date with Trisha.

He’d dated several women in town over the past couple of years, but he’d never made a real connection with any of them. Sometimes he wondered in the darkness of the night if his childhood had made it impossible for him to ever trust...to ever really love anyone.

He remained talking with the other men until nine thirty and then stood. “It’s time for me to head out,” he said.

“Good luck,” Tony said. “I hope you both have a great time.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Adam added.

Dusty laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

He left the building and headed for the large shed where the men parked their personal vehicles and stored other big ranch equipment.

In the brilliant moonlight, the blue tent that covered the crime scene rose up like an alien entity. He grimaced as he thought of the skeletons. They had been found under the floorboards of an old shed the men had taken down after the spring storm that had killed Cass.

The discovery had been shocking, and even more shocking was that Chief of Police Dillon Bowie suspected it was possible that one of the men working the ranch might be responsible for the seven murdered young men.

Dusty would never believe that one of the men he considered his brothers was responsible for the murders that had occurred around the time the twelve young men had first begun working for Cass.

She had been a good judge of character and surely never would have kept anyone around who showed any kind of violent tendencies, somebody who was capable of slamming a meat cleaver or an ax into the skull of another human being.

If there was a killer in Bitterroot, then the odds were much better that he worked on the Humes ranch. Raymond Humes liked his ranch hands mean and on the edge, and many of them had been around for years or had been born and raised here.

As Dusty drove the short distance from the ranch into town, all thoughts of the murders fled his mind as he once again thought about the night to come with Trisha.

He had no idea if she was a potential long-term match for him or not. All he knew for sure was that he was attracted to her. For months she had invaded his thoughts and dreams. There was also a growing well of loneliness deep inside him.

Maybe his loneliness was more apparent lately because three of his fellow cowboys had found their love matches in the last couple of months. They had been a dozen single men working and living together, and now they were only nine. Dusty wanted to find the same kind of happiness that they had all found.

The Watering Hole was the only official bar in town. It was housed in a large wooden building and on a Saturday night the parking lot was nearly full.

He wished that there had been someplace to meet that was a little quieter, but this was basically the only game in town at this time of the night other than the café where Trisha worked.

Hopefully, he could snag a table away from the dance floor, where the music would be softer and they could actually carry on some kind of a meaningful conversation without too much difficulty.

He found an empty parking space and pulled in. The dog days of August were upon them. The stifling night air slapped him in the face as he hurried from his pickup toward the cooler air that would greet him inside the bar.

The place was definitely jumping. Dozens of couples moved across the dance floor to the beat of the jukebox playing a rousing country western song. Bottles and glasses clinked as drinks were poured and delivered by the waitresses, and laughter rang out from all four corners of the huge room.

Dusty waved to Brody Booth, Sawyer Quincy and Jerrod Steen, all fellow cowboys from the Holiday ranch. They sat together at a table near the back room, where there were two pool tables and a dartboard.

Dusty smiled inwardly. It was a good thing Brody and Jerrod were with Sawyer. The copper-haired cowboy was a lightweight when it came to drinking. It didn’t take much beer for him to have to be carried out of the place.

Dusty wove his way through the crowd and spied an empty two-top table not far from where the three men sat. At least the jukebox wasn’t quite as loud here, although the noisy click of pool balls and triumphant shouts drifted out of the back room.

He sat and once again tamped down the nerves that kicked in the pit of his stomach. He had never been so nervous before meeting or picking up any woman for a date.

It was just drinks, he reminded himself. If they weren’t into each other by the end of the night, they would each go their own separate ways and there would be no harm and no foul.

“Hey, Dusty.” Janis Little, one of the waitresses, greeted him with a friendly smile. “What can I get for you?”

Dusty looked at his watch. It was just ten minutes after ten. Trisha should be arriving within the next fifteen minutes or so. “I’ll have a beer,” he said. “But I’m waiting for Trisha Cahill to join me in the next few minutes.”

Janis raised one of her thin brown eyebrows. “Ah, and here I thought your heart belonged only to me.”

He grinned at the attractive woman. “You know I have to keep up my appearances as a womanizing cowboy who secretly loves and trusts only my horse.”

She laughed. “I’ll be back with your beer in a jiffy.”

He watched her as she worked her way toward the long, polished bar on the opposite side of the room. Janis was pretty and single, but he’d never considered asking her out. She’d never created the edge of excitement in him that Trisha did.

Janis delivered his beer and he’d only taken two sips of it when Trisha walked through the front door. He immediately jumped to his feet and waved to her.

She smiled and waved back. He remained standing as she went around the tables and people to approach him. His heart quickened as she drew nearer. She looked ridiculously hot. Her pale blond hair was loose and flowed to her shoulders in soft waves. Her tight jeans showcased her long, slim legs and the blue blouse skimmed her full breasts and tapered in at her slender waist.

“Trisha, I’m so glad you could make it,” he said when she finally reached the table.

“Me, too.” Only after she sat at the table did Dusty return to his chair opposite of her.

Was she as nervous as he was? She didn’t appear to be. She looked cool and collected. “What can I get for you?” he asked and motioned to Janis.

“I really don’t drink too often, but a beer sounds wonderful. It’s so hot outside.”

“There’s nothing better than a cold beer on a hot summer night,” he replied.

“We’ll be wishing for these hot nights when the snow starts to fly.”

Janis arrived and took the drink order, and once it had been delivered the conversation turned to Trisha’s night working at the café. “Saturday nights are always the worst,” she said. “I swear nobody in the entire town cooks on Saturday nights.” She gave him a rueful grin. “Oh, wait, didn’t I say that to you last night about Friday nights?”

“I believe you did. But that’s small-town living. Weekend meals aren’t just about the food, but also about community ties and, of course, the gossip,” he replied dryly.

She laughed, a pleasant, musical sound. “That’s for sure,” she agreed. “I now know more personal information about some of the people in this town than I ever wanted to know.” She sobered slightly. “And despite how good the gossip mill is and that you and I have talked fairly regularly at the café, I really don’t know that much about you. Did you grow up here in Bitterroot?”

“No, I’m a transplant. I grew up in Oklahoma City. What about you? Where are you from originally?” The last thing he wanted to talk about was himself and his past.

“I’m from back east,” she replied and took a drink of her beer.

“Then how did you wind up here in Bitterroot?” he asked curiously. He was aware that her answer had definitely been vague. Back east could include a million different places when you lived in Oklahoma.

She gazed down into her glass and then looked at him once again. The blue of her eyes was slightly darker than a moment before.

“When I was three months pregnant, my boyfriend, the father of my unborn child, was killed in a terrible motorcycle accident. When my son was born, I decided that I needed a fresh start, someplace new. So, I packed up my bags and my baby and took off.”

“Wow, that was incredibly brave of you,” he replied.

She smiled and picked up her glass once again. “I don’t know if it was incredibly brave or completely foolish, but at the time I knew it was definitely what I needed to do. I spent the next six months or so drifting from town to town, and finally we wound up here in Bitterroot. So far it’s been a good fit.”

She took another drink of her beer and when she set her glass back on the table, Dusty noticed that her hand trembled slightly and her gaze went to some point just over his head.

Interesting, he mused inwardly. Were her hands simply trembling from the nerves of a first date? Or was it something more?

Rather than being put off, he was more intrigued by her than ever. He certainly didn’t know her well at this point, but he had the distinct impression that Trisha Cahill just might have a barn full of secrets.

* * *

Trisha fought against the ghosts from her past and the fact that she was telling lies. They left a bad taste in her mouth. She didn’t want to lie, but she had to. It was far too early to bare her soul to Dusty. Besides, she’d never hope to have a normal life if she told the truth and chased anyone who might be interested in her away.

“I know you have a young son. Tell me about him,” Dusty said.

Instantly the nerves that had danced inside her as she’d talked briefly about how she’d come to be here in Bitterroot calmed. “Cooper is a little over three years old and he’s the absolute love of my life. He adores blueberry pancakes and playing cowboys and old John Wayne movies.”

Dusty laughed and raised a blond eyebrow. “Really? Old John Wayne movies?”

She nodded and grinned. “The motel doesn’t get many television channels, but one of them plays old Westerns, and Cooper has already decided he’s going to be the cowboy who arrests all of the bad guys and saves the town just like the Duke.”

“He sounds pretty special.”

“Oh, he is...of course I might be slightly prejudiced.”

“Mothers are supposed to be prejudiced when it comes to their children,” he replied firmly. “What about other family?”

“None,” she replied. “I’m an only child, and my father passed away when I was in high school and my mother died when I was pregnant with Cooper.” She ignored the pang of guilt...the pain of enormous grief that shot off in her stomach and filled her heart.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said with genuine empathy shining from his gorgeous eyes. “That’s something we have in common. I don’t have any family, either.”

For the next hour or so the conversation flowed comfortably between them. With each minute that passed she found herself drawn to him more and more.

Not only did she find him crazy handsome and sexy, but he was also easy to talk to and had a wonderful sense of humor. Thankfully she managed to steer the conversation away from her and focused on him and his work at the Holiday ranch.

He talked about his fellow cowboys and regaled her with stories about them that brought laughter to her lips again and again. It felt good not just to have something to laugh about but also to see the warmth in his eyes as he gazed at her, to feel the tingling excitement of her incredible attraction to him.

It was just a little after eleven thirty when he asked her if she wanted to take a whirl out on the dance floor. The jukebox had begun to play a slow song and she suddenly wanted to know what it would feel like to have his big, strong arms around her. It had been so long since she’d been held by anyone.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Although I have to warn you that it’s been years since I’ve danced with anyone, so I’m sure I’m pretty rusty.”

“I’ll take rusty anytime,” he said with a charming smile and jumped up from his chair. She also stood and he took her by the hand and led her toward the edge of the dance floor, where other couples clung together and danced to the music.

With one hand at her waist and the other one holding her hand, he pulled her to within an inch or so of his body and they began to move to the slow beat.

His shoulder was big and strong beneath her hand and the clean male scent of him coupled with a spicy cologne threatened to dizzy her senses. He led with confidence and moved with an unexpected grace for a cowboy.

This short night had only confirmed what she had suspected for months...that she was ridiculously drawn to Dusty Crawford. It wasn’t just because she could drown in the depths of his beautiful blue eyes or because the flash of his dimples warmed her deep inside. It wasn’t that he had a sexy taut butt and shoulders that appeared wide enough to carry any burden.

She was also drawn to the man she sensed he was beneath his handsome outer wrapping. There was a warmth to him, and an aura of a good man with a big heart.

She was vaguely disappointed when the music finally ended because she knew it was time for her to call an end to the night and head back to the motel. She’d told Juanita that she’d be home by midnight, and no matter how much she was enjoying herself she wouldn’t take advantage of the situation by being late.

They walked back to the table, but she didn’t return to her chair. She picked up her purse from the floor beneath the table. “I’m sorry, Dusty, but I really need to get going,” she said.

A flash of disappointment shone from his eyes. It was there only a moment and then gone. “I’m sorry, too, but I understand. Just let me pay for the tab and I’ll follow you home.”

“Oh, that isn’t necessary,” she protested.

He waved to Janis. “But it is necessary,” he replied. “A real gentleman always sees a lady home safely.”

A wealth of unexpected emotion welled up inside her. It had been a very long time since any man had wanted to see her safely anywhere.

He paid for their drinks and then the two of them left the bar and stepped out into the warmth of the night. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said when they reached her car. “We can say our final good-nights at your door.”

Minutes later she glanced in her rearview mirror and was oddly comforted by the lights of his bright red pickup truck just behind her.

The night had been far too short. Would he ask her out again? Did he even want to spend more time with her? She was surprised by how much she wanted him to.

Would he kiss her? A fluttering shot off in the pit of her stomach. Goodness, she felt like a silly schoolgirl with her very first crush.

She parked her car in front of her motel unit and Dusty pulled his truck up just behind her car. Before she had shut off her engine he was at her door.

She turned off her car and unfastened her seat belt as he opened the door for her. He stepped aside to allow her to get out.

“Trisha, I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.” The neon lights from the motel sign flickered red and yellow on his strong, handsome features.

“I enjoyed it, too,” she replied. Her heart beat a little faster as he took a step closer to her.

“I’d like to spend more time with you. Does your son like to fish?”

She looked at him in surprise. “He’s never been fishing before, but I’m sure he’d love it.”

“Then what if we plan a day of the two of you coming out to the ranch? We can do a little fishing in the pond and maybe have a picnic?”

Her head told her it was far too soon to introduce Cooper to Dusty, and yet as she thought of her son enjoying a day outside and learning how to fish, she couldn’t resist the invitation. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d just met Dusty. She tamped down any reservations she might have. “That sounds like fun.”

He took another step toward her. “When is your next day off?”

“Tomorrow.” Once again the fluttering was back in her stomach.

“Then can we plan it for around three tomorrow afternoon? I can pick the two of you up here and I’ll arrange it all so you don’t have to do a thing.”

“That would be wonderful,” she replied.

His eyes glittered with pleasure. “Then it’s a date. And now, the most important question of the evening. Can I kiss you good-night?”

She was surprised that he’d asked her and even more surprised by just how badly she wanted him to kiss her. “Yes, I’d like that.”

She barely got the words out of her mouth before he took her into his arms. Unlike when they had danced, this time there was no space between them. She was acutely conscious of his firm, muscled body against hers as he lowered his head to capture her lips with his.

Soft and warm, he moved his mouth against hers. Fire leaped into her veins and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She parted her lips to allow him to deepen the kiss and he did, his tongue swirling with hers.

What had begun as a simple, soft first kiss quickly flared into something hotter, something far more intense than she had initially anticipated.

Reluctantly, she pulled her arms from around his neck and broke the kiss. He immediately dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back from her. “Whew,” he said with a grin.

She gave a breathy laugh. “I second that. And now I really should get inside.” She had to escape before she lost her head and threw herself into his arms once again for another kiss...and another.

They had only taken a couple of steps toward her motel room door when she spied something odd. Directly in front of her door on the ground was a bright yellow coffee mug with a little bouquet of wildflowers spilling out of the top.

A wail began in the center of her brain and she froze, unable to think, unable to even move as a distant but familiar terror rocketed through her.

“What’s this?” Dusty’s voice slowly penetrated into her head. She stared wordlessly as he bent down and picked up the mug. “It looks like there’s a note, too.” He retrieved a white piece of paper that had been tucked beneath the mug.

He held the paper out to her. With trembling fingers she took it from him. Her mouth was dry with fear as she opened it. In the light from the blinking neon motel sign and the bright moon overhead, the words written in red marker practically leaped off the page: “YOU BELONG TO ME.”

Horror clutched her throat, momentarily closing it off so that she could scarcely draw a breath of air. No, her mind screamed. No, please.

Is it safe? It isn’t. Dear God, it isn’t safe at all.

“I’ve got to go. I need to pack up and leave town. We need to get out of here.” The words fell from her lips as she continued to stare at Dusty.

“Whoa.” He set the mug down on the ground next to him and reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders. “Trisha, slow down. I think maybe you’re overreacting. I’m the one who should be worried here. It appears that you have a secret admirer and I have some competition.”

A secret admirer?

Was that all that it was?

She tried to staunch the sheer terror that had momentarily clutched at her very soul. Was she really overreacting? She continued to stare at Dusty and then looked down at the mug on the ground next to her.

“Trisha, are you all right?” Dusty asked with concern.

A touch of embarrassment swept over her and she gazed up at him once again. “I’m fine. I...I just don’t like surprises.”

“This surprise just makes me wish I’d thought to bring you a dozen roses,” he said dryly. He dropped his hands from her shoulders.

She drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Dusty, I don’t need roses, or flowers in a coffee mug from an unknown person.”

“Then we’re still on for our fishing date tomorrow?”

“Of course we’re still on,” she replied. “Would you do me a favor?” She crumpled up the note into a tight ball and shoved it into his hand. “Would you throw this and the mug into the Dumpster for me?”

“Are you sure? The flowers are kind of pretty.”

“I’m positive. I don’t want them. Like I said, I don’t like surprises.”

“Then it would be my pleasure.” He reached down and picked up the mug and then frowned at her with concern. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” All she wanted to do now was get into the motel room.

“Then I’ll just say good-night, Trisha.”

She murmured a good-night and then escaped into her room. She held it together as she told Juanita good-night. She even managed to remain somewhat calm as she went into the bathroom and changed into her nightshirt.

It was only then that the fear returned and once again sizzled inside her. She walked to the window and moved the heavy gold curtain aside just enough that she could peek outside.

Who on earth had left the note and the flowers for her? Was there somebody out there watching her right now? The parking lot appeared empty of any human presence, but there were so many places to hide.

The large trash Dumpster at the back of the parking lot now looked like a perfect place for somebody to conceal himself from her view. The line of mature trees and thick bushes appeared equally malevolent in the darkness of the night.

A secret admirer? Who could it be?

She let the curtain fall back into place and checked the door, making sure that both the dead bolt and the security chain were in place.

She finally slid into the king-size bed next to her sleeping son. She stared up at the dark ceiling, her thoughts racing a hundred miles a minute.

Was it safe? There had never been any notes or flowers before. Were they really just the result of some lonesome cowboy or some man in town who had developed a crush on her? Were they from a harmless secret admirer, as Dusty had suggested?

Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, she tried to still the frantic race of her heart. She didn’t want to pack up her things and run again. She loved living in Bitterroot and tonight with Dusty had been all kinds of wonderful.

Did she take the chance and stay here in town and see what happened next? Was this nothing to be afraid of, or had the evil from her past finally caught up with her?

Chapter 3

Sundays at the Holiday ranch were fairly laid-back. The chores were divided so that half of the men worked one Sunday and the others were off, and the next weekend the men who’d been off worked. The system assured that every other week the men got a full day off without having to do any of the daily chores required to keep the ranch running smoothly.

Thankfully, it was Dusty’s turn to have the entire day off. He slept later than usual but was still up not long after dawn. His first thought when he awakened was of Trisha and the time he’d shared with her the night before.

Bright and fun, she’d been everything he’d dreamed about and more. She’d been so easy to talk to and with each minute that had passed he’d only grown more attracted to her.

As he showered his thoughts continued to be consumed by his date with her. He’d loved the way she’d felt in his arms as they’d danced, and kissing her had been nothing short of amazing.

But the night had definitely turned a little strange when she’d seen the note and the flowers that had been left for her at the motel door. Her initial reaction had seemed a little bit over-the-top with her saying that she needed to leave town and the crazy fear radiating from her wide blue eyes.

He wondered what might have happened to her in her past to cause her to react that way. He also wondered who in the hell had left the unexpected gifts for her. Someplace out there was a man trying to make time with her, too. Still, he knew that all he could do was focus on his own relationship with Trisha and see where things went from here.

He left his room and headed to the dining room, where breakfast would be in progress. As always, Cord Cully, aka Cookie, stood next to a long table where warming buffet servers held scrambled eggs, crispy strips of bacon and hot biscuits with sausage gravy. There was also fresh fruit and hearty oatmeal. Breakfast and dinner were the two big meals of the day, with lunch being lighter.

“Just the man I wanted to talk to,” Dusty said to Cookie after he’d filled his plate and before he took a seat at one of the long picnic tables with the other men.

Cookie grunted, his dark eyes glowering as he looked at Dusty. Dusty wasn’t put off by Cookie’s countenance. The man looked as if he wanted to punch something most of the time. “Talk to me about what?”

“A picnic lunch.” Dusty quickly told the man what he wanted for later that afternoon. When he was finished, Tony Nakni motioned for Dusty to sit beside him.

Tony was half Choctaw Indian and something of a mystery, although he and Dusty had always shared a good relationship. “How did it go last night?” he asked once Dusty had gotten settled.

“Really good,” Dusty replied. “In fact, we’re having a picnic down by the pond this afternoon and I’m going to teach her three-year-old son, Cooper, how to fish.”

Tony raised a dark brow. “You must have made a good impression on her if she’s letting you meet her son already.”

“I hope I made a good impression, because it appears that I have a little competition.” He told Tony about the note and the flowers.

Tony shook his head. “I’ve never understood that kind of approach. I mean, if you want a woman, then don’t play silly games, just go after her.”

Dusty looked at his friend in open amusement. “And exactly when are you going to decide to go after a woman?”

“When and if I ever find somebody worth pursuing,” Tony replied.

The dining room suddenly fell silent. Dusty looked up to see that Cassie Peterson stood in the doorway. She was clad in a pair of designer jeans and a bright pink blouse and her blond hair looked as if it had been styled by a professional hairdresser only minutes before. She was definitely a little bit of big city in the room.

It was rarely a good thing when she appeared in the cowboy dining area, especially first thing in the morning.

“I’m sorry to bother you all while you’re eating breakfast,” she said. “But I wanted to let you know that Chief Bowie is planning to interview you all again and I want you to make yourselves available to him. You all know how important it is to cooperate with him so that he can get answers as to the mystery of the skeletons that were found on the property.”

“He’s already interviewed us once,” Brody Booth said.

“I’d like to know if he’s looking at the ranch hands on the Humes ranch as carefully as he’s looking at all of us,” Flint McCay added.

Cassie held up her hands. “I’m sure Dillon is conducting interviews with everyone he thinks necessary to get to the bottom of the murders. Again, I would appreciate your cooperation in this matter. Thanks in advance.”

“She probably wants this all cleared up so she can sell the ranch,” Tony said darkly once Cassie had left the building. “I’m sure it would be hard to sell a ranch where seven unsolved murders took place.”

“Raymond Humes would buy this place in a minute,” Dusty said. “I heard that he’s already contacted her about buying her out.”

Tony’s black eyes flashed with annoyance. “If she sells to him, then Cass’s spirit will never rest peacefully. She hated that man.”

Nobody knew what had happened between Raymond Humes and Cass Holiday that had created such bad blood between them. Dusty only knew that thoughts of the tough woman who had taken them all in still caused a piercing ache of loss deep in his heart.

A half an hour later, he left the dining area and went back to his room. He fought the impulse to call Trisha to make sure she really hadn’t packed up her son and all of their belongings and left town sometime during the night. He still couldn’t make sense of her dramatic reaction to the flowers and the note, but he hoped maybe when he saw her they would be able to have a conversation that would shed a little light on it.

In the meantime he had plenty of things to do to keep him busy until it was time for him to pick up her and her son for the afternoon of fun.

The last thing he wanted to do was entertain thoughts about the murders on this land and the fact that Dillon Bowie would interview him once again.

Dusty wasn’t worried about having another conversation with the lawman. He had nothing to hide and he was certain that none of his brothers had anything to do with the horrendous crime that had taken place around the time they had all been brought to the ranch.

At just a little after nine o’clock, Dusty headed into town. He wanted to pick up a few things so that the day with Trisha and her young son would be a complete success.

The first place he stopped was Bob’s Bait Shack just off the main drag. The weathered wooden building held not only an array of hunting and fishing equipment, but also different kinds of bait.

He got what he needed for the afternoon fishing date and then headed to the café for a midmorning cup of coffee. He had a feeling that the hours were going to drag as anticipation and a touch of anxiety pooled inside him when he thought of Trisha.

Surely she would have called him by now if she’d done something crazy like packed up and left town, he thought as he entered the café.

“Hey, Dusty,” Daisy greeted him and pointed him to an empty two-top, where Julia Hatfield took his order and then delivered his coffee.

Even if Trisha hadn’t called him, surely she would have contacted Daisy by now to give her a heads-up if she was no longer going to work at the café. Daisy had said nothing to him about that happening when he’d come in.

He sipped his coffee and watched customers arrive and depart, and instead of thinking about Trisha, he found himself thinking about her son.

He’d never spent much time around kids. He certainly hadn’t ever really considered whether he wanted children or not. He didn’t know how to be a father. He definitely hadn’t had a stellar role model where parents were concerned.

A knot of tension fisted up in his stomach and a phantom pain fired off in his left ear. He’d lied to Trisha when he’d told her he didn’t have any family. As far as he knew his parents were still alive and well in Oklahoma City, but they’d both been dead to Dusty since he’d left home and them far behind.

He hadn’t wanted to share any part of his nightmarish past with Trisha on their very first date.

Only Forest Stevens had known the full extent of what Dusty had gone through in his childhood. The big cowboy had been not only another runaway on the streets but had also become Dusty’s best friend and protector during those dark and frightening days before they’d finally landed at Cass’s ranch for a second chance at life.

Dusty knew in his very gut that he would have died on the streets without Forest watching over him. He mentally made a note to call his friend soon.

He was working on his second cup of coffee when Zeke Osmond walked into the café. The dark-haired, wiry man spied Dusty and immediately headed toward him. Dusty sat up straighter in his chair and wondered what Zeke might want with him. The two of them certainly didn’t share any kind of a friendship.

“I heard through the grapevine that you were out with Trisha last night,” he said as he stopped next to Dusty’s chair. The man smelled of body odor, cigarette smoke and cow manure.

“You heard right,” Dusty replied. “You have a problem with it?”

“I just didn’t know that she was stupid enough to waste any of her time on a snot-nosed, no-account cowboy who had a social worker and a crazy old broad as his parents.” Zeke rocked back on his heels and narrowed his eyes as if anticipating some kind of violent response.

Dusty wouldn’t give him the pleasure despite the swift bite of anger that roared up in his chest. “Are you done here?” He held Zeke’s gaze for a long moment and then looked down at the table and picked up his coffee cup, as if the man warranted not another second of his time or attention.

He sensed when Zeke walked away from the table and he looked up again to see the creep joining another group of men at a booth on the other side of the café.

Why on earth did Zeke Osmond give a damn about him seeing Trisha...unless Zeke wanted her for himself? Was it possible that Zeke was responsible for the mug of flowers and the note that had been left at her doorstep the night before?

Could Zeke be her secret admirer?

The very thought made Dusty slightly sick to his stomach. He didn’t know if he was the man Trisha wanted or needed in her life, but he’d sure as hell do anything in his power to make sure somebody like Zeke didn’t become that man.

* * *

It had been one of the longest nights of Trisha’s life. She’d tossed and turned for hours as she’d wondered what she should do. Just after three in the morning, she finally made the decision to do nothing for now.

Once she’d decided to stay in Bitterroot and not immediately gather her things and leave, she’d fallen into a sleep tormented by nightmares of dead wildflowers and a big, ominous shadow man chasing her through the night.

Cooper had awakened at his usual early time, and as he ate breakfast Trisha drank a cup of coffee and thought about the afternoon to come.

Despite her concern about the “gifts” that had been left for her, she was looking forward to spending more time with Dusty, which had ultimately made her decide to hang around.

Hopefully he’d been right when he’d immediately declared that she apparently had a secret admirer, and hopefully it was somebody from town and not a certain someone from her past.

Before she’d finally gone to sleep, a dozen names of men who could potentially be the mystery man had jumped into her brain. They were men who always chose to sit in her section when she was working at the café, or who had asked her out in the past. She supposed that any one of them could have left her the flowers and the note.

After breakfast as she and Cooper headed outside to the small motel playground, she shoved all thoughts of the troubling situation out of her head. She simply didn’t want to think about it today.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said to her son as he took a seat on one of the faded red swings.

“A surprise?” His eyes lit up in anticipation.

“How would you like it if a cowboy picked us up this afternoon and took us fishing on the ranch where he works?”

Cooper’s eyes widened. “A real cowboy and fishing?” He kicked his little legs with excitement. “What’s the cowboy’s name? Is it the Duke?”

Trisha laughed. “No, honey, it isn’t the Duke. His name is Dusty and he’s really nice.”

“And he’s gonna tell me how to catch a fish?” Once again Cooper wiggled in the swing seat with barely contained happiness. “I can’t wait. I want to go now. When will he be here?”

“After your nap this afternoon,” she replied. “Now, hang on tight so that I can give you a push.”

Later that day when Cooper was napping, Trisha took a long shower and considered the fact that she was introducing her son to a man. She didn’t know if it was a good idea or a bad one to introduce the two so quickly. She had no rule book to study to find the correct answer in this situation.

All she did know was that Cooper would love the plans for the day and it would be good for him to have a little male interaction.

Over the past couple of months he’d occasionally asked why he didn’t have a daddy. She’d told her son the same lie that she had told Dusty—that his father had died in a tragic accident. She had no other choice, for the truth was so much worse than the lie. How did you tell a little boy that his daddy was a monster?

Besides, maybe it was a good thing to see how Dusty interacted with Cooper right from the get-go. If Cooper didn’t like Dusty, or she sensed that Dusty didn’t like her son, then that would definitely be the end of things between them.

She dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a sleeveless denim blouse that had pearly white snaps up the front. She couldn’t help the surge of excitement that winged through her as she anticipated spending more time with Dusty.

She wanted to let herself go, to be happy and carefree. Was that really too much to ask of life after all she’d endured in the past?

While Cooper continued his nap, she sat at the table and looked at the house rentals listed in the Bitterroot newspaper.

Today there were a total of five listed. The first two were too big and expensive. One was too far out of town, but the last two had promise. She circled the two ads with a red pen, determined to check them out within the next couple of days.

Although she’d told herself that she would make a move in the next month or two, as she gazed at her son sleeping in the center of the motel room bed they shared, she knew it was way past time that she found them a more permanent home. Cooper deserved so much better than the living conditions they had now.

She awakened Cooper at two. Normally if she woke him up before he got his complete nap, he was a little cranky bug. But today he got up with a huge smile on his face and cowboys and fishing on his mind.

She dressed him in a clean pair of jean shorts and a red T-shirt and then slathered a liberal dose of sunscreen over any exposed skin. She topped his head with a red ball cap that would keep the sun off his tender scalp.

By two forty-five they were ready for Dusty’s arrival. The only last-minute thing they would have to do was move Cooper’s child seat from her car to Dusty’s truck. Thankfully, he had a king cab and the seat could be easily fastened into his backseat.

“I see a red truck,” Cooper exclaimed from his perch at the window. “Is that him, Mommy? Is that Dusty?”

“He has a red pickup truck, so that must be him,” she replied as butterflies took wing in her stomach.

Cooper scrambled out of his chair at the window and raced to the motel room door. “Come on, it’s time to go,” he said exuberantly.

Trisha laughed with an exuberance of her own. She was determined not to think about any negative things for the rest of the day. She was just going to embrace spending time with a handsome cowboy and her beloved son.

* * *

Chief of Police Dillon Bowie had never been so frustrated in his thirty-five years of life as he’d been since the skeletal remains had been unearthed on the Holiday ranch.

August would soon become September and then October, and he couldn’t imagine not having the heinous murders solved before the first snow began to fly.

The problem was that as good as Dr. Patience Forbes had been when she’d removed and studied the bones, as efficient as the Oklahoma City crime lab had been in conducting all kinds of tests, nobody had come up with any real clues that could help in solving the crime that had taken place over a decade ago.

Even Francine Rogers, the social worker who had been responsible for bringing street kids to Cass Holiday for a second chance at life, hadn’t been much help. Her old records were spotty, and at seventy-two years old her memory wasn’t as good as it might have once been.

The one concrete piece of evidence that had come to light was a masculine gold ring with an onyx stone that had been found at the bottom of the burial pit. Dillon didn’t know if it belonged to the killer or to one of the victims. He hadn’t told anyone about the find. He preferred keeping it close to his chest for now.

What he did know was that the skeletons had belonged to boys between approximately fourteen and eighteen years old. One of the skeletons had been missing finger bones and another had been absent the skull.

All of the victims had been killed by a single blow to the back of the head with a sharp instrument. They hadn’t been murdered all at the same time but rather over the course of several months.

Dillon got up from his desk and buckled on his gun belt. One thing was for sure, he wouldn’t find the answers sitting in his office and stewing.

Although he had no real evidence to prove that the person responsible for the murders was still in the town he served, his gut told him otherwise.

Something bad had happened on the Holiday ranch years ago around the time when the cowboys who now worked and lived there had first arrived to begin their new lives.

Despite his attraction to new owner Cassie Peterson, his number-one job was to make sure that she wasn’t unknowingly harboring a man capable of such evil.

Chapter 4

Dusty had just gotten out of his truck when the motel room door flew open and a pint-size little boy in jeans and a red T-shirt and ball cap came barreling out with Trisha just behind him.

“Howdy, partner,” he said to Dusty in a surprisingly deep voice.

“Howdy. You must be Cooper. My name is Dusty.”

Cooper grinned, his blue eyes so like his mother’s and sparkling with obvious excitement. “I know, and you’re going to take us fishing.” His voice was no longer deep, letting Dusty know that his initial greeting was probably his idea of a John Wayne imitation.

“Hi, Dusty,” Trisha said. “I guess I don’t have to make official introductions between the two of you.”

Dusty grinned at the little boy and then looked back at Trisha. “I think we’re good, right, Cooper?”

“We’re good,” Cooper echoed. “Let’s go.”

It took several minutes to actually get going as Dusty transferred the child seat from her car to the backseat of his truck. Finally, they were all buckled in and on their way.

“I’m going to catch a great big fish,” Cooper said. “Maybe even a whale.”

Dusty exchanged a glance of amusement with Trisha. “I don’t think you’ll find any whales in the pond, but you might manage to catch a big old catfish.”

“A catfish? Do they meow? I can meow.” Cooper proceeded to make cat sounds. “I can bark, too. You want to hear me bark, Dusty? I bark real good.”

“Honey, you might want to keep the animals all quiet for now,” Trisha said.

Once again Dusty shot a quick glance in her direction. She looked as amazing as he’d ever seen her. She was definitely born to wear denim. Her eyes had taken on the hue of her blouse and her shorts displayed long shapely legs.

Her hair sparkled in the sunshine and was caught up in a ponytail that emphasized the delicate bone structure of her lovely face.

A wave of heat rushed over him as he thought about the kiss they had shared the night before. As much as Dusty wanted to taste her lips once again, there would be no kisses today, not with Cooper present. This afternoon wasn’t just about the two of them, but rather the three of them.

Cooper kept up a steady stream of chatter on the short drive from the motel to the ranch. He asked a hundred questions of both Dusty and his mom.

Dusty certainly didn’t know anything about three-year-olds, but he was surprised by how bright Cooper appeared, how eager he was to learn things. Why was definitely one of his favorite words as he asked why trees grew up and why did cows have four legs? These were among other questions of seemingly great importance to Cooper.

When they reached the ranch, Dusty parked his truck in the shed and then they all transferred to one of the motorized carts that were used occasionally to get around the place without horses.

Trisha sat in the passenger seat with Cooper in her lap and Dusty took off for the cowboy dining room to retrieve the picnic food Cookie had prepared for them.

“I’ve already got the fishing equipment down by the pond,” he said as he drove slowly, aware of his precious cargo. “We just need to stop and pick up the food.”

“Mommy and I had a picnic once at the motel,” Cooper said. “But we ate inside ’cause it was too hot.”

“There are several nice shade trees down by the pond, so we can eat outside,” Dusty replied and was rewarded by Cooper’s hoots of excitement.

They pulled up in front of the dining room door and before Dusty could step out of the cart, Cookie appeared with a medium-size cooler in his hands.

Dusty made the introductions and Cookie gave them his usual taciturn grunt.

“I think he must be a bad cowboy,” Cooper said once the cooler had been loaded and they were on their way toward the pastures and the pond in the distance.

“He’s okay, Cooper,” Dusty replied. “He feeds all of us who work on the ranch, so in my book that makes him a pretty good cowboy.”

“He has bank-robber eyes,” Cooper said, obviously not completely convinced. “Look, there’s lots of cows!”

They had crested a ridge and in the distance the huge herd of Black Angus cattle grazed on the grass and jostled each other for shade beneath several large trees. Dusty raised a hand and waved to a man on horseback riding among the herd.

“That’s Mac McBride. He’s our singing cowboy,” Dusty said. “On most evenings he pulls out his guitar and plays and sings for us.”

“Do you sing?” Trisha asked him.

Dusty shot her a quick grin. “Only in the shower, and only if I’m alone,” he replied.

“I can sing. Do you want to hear me sing ‘Bingo’?” Cooper asked.

“Maybe later after we fish,” Trisha replied smoothly. “Maybe then we can all sing some songs together.”

“That would be fun,” Cooper replied.

Was this what families did? They fished and ate a picnic dinners, they sang and laughed together? It was all so alien to Dusty. He’d spent every minute of his childhood that he could remember dodging fists and being afraid.

The pond was some distance from where the cattle grazed. It was a nice drink of water stocked with plenty of fish. A wooden dock stretched out about eight feet and made a perfect place to sit and dangle a pole.

“I’m gonna have such fun,” Cooper exclaimed as Dusty pulled the cart to a halt.

“We’re all going to have fun,” Dusty replied.

It took only a few minutes for him to carry the cooler and a navy blue blanket into the shade of a nearby old oak tree. Together he and Trisha spread out the blanket and placed the cooler to one side while Cooper danced around them with an excitement that was contagious.

“And now, the main event,” Dusty said and motioned for them to follow him to the edge of the dock where he had fishing poles and foam cups of night crawlers awaiting them.

When he’d been in Bob’s Bait Shack earlier he’d picked up two things especially for Cooper. The first was a child’s fishing pole and the second was a bright orange life jacket.

“You’ve gone to so much trouble,” Trisha said soberly. “I’ll be glad to reimburse you for anything you bought.”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “It was my pleasure.” He picked up the life jacket and then crouched in front of Cooper. “And now, my little buddy, if you want to fish you have to wear this.”

“Why?” Cooper held his gaze intently.

“Because only the very best fisherman in the whole wide world wears this special orange vest,” he replied. “Can I put it on you?”

Cooper nodded. Dusty helped him into the vest and fastened it. The last thing he wanted for today was any kind of a tragic accident.

When he stood and looked at Trisha, a burst of warmth that had nothing to do with the sun overhead filled him. She gazed at him with a softness that almost took his breath away.

He cleared his throat and picked up a rod and thrust it into her hands and then handed Cooper his shorter, bright yellow rod complete with a red bobber already on the line.

“How do you feel about worms?” he asked Trisha as he picked up his own rod. “Are you the squeamish type?”

“I’ve changed dirty diapers. I think I can handle worms,” she said with a small laugh.

“Dusty, I don’t wear diapers anymore. I’m a big boy.” Cooper looked up at him with pride.

“That’s good, Cooper. But I could already tell that you’re a big boy. And now I think we’re ready to hit the dock and catch some fish.” Dusty placed a hand on Cooper’s shoulder and they all walked out onto the floating wooden structure.

For the next hour and a half Dusty gave lessons to Cooper about how to bait his hook and cast out and then the absolute importance of watching his bobber in the water.

They sat on the dock with Cooper between them and as the little boy focused solely on the task of waiting for a fish to bite, Dusty and Trisha talked about everything from their favorite foods to what crazy things people ordered at the café.

He discovered that she loved Chinese food and that her favorite color was purple. She confessed that she enjoyed watching reality television and was afraid of spiders. Each and every tidbit that he learned about her only made him like her more.

She caught the first fish, a crappie no bigger than his fingers. Cooper wanted to keep it, but Dusty explained that it needed to grow a bit more and the little boy helped him release it back into the water.

“How about we set down our poles for a while and see what Cookie packed for us to eat?” Dusty suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Trisha agreed and began to reel up her line.

“But I want to catch a fish.” Cooper’s bottom lip began to tremble ominously.

“We’ll take a break and eat and then we can fish some more,” Dusty said. He was rewarded by Cooper’s bright smile.

“Okay, and then I’ll catch a fish,” he replied happily.

The kid was definitely a little charmer. Trisha took off Cooper’s life jacket and when they sat on the blanket, Cooper planted himself nearly in Dusty’s lap. It was a strange feeling for Dusty, to feel Cooper’s utter trust in him, to know that the boy liked him.

It was equally heartwarming to see the approval in Trisha’s eyes. She obviously liked the interaction between him and Cooper.

“Let’s see what we have,” Dusty said and opened the top of the cooler. “Why don’t you help me unpack this thing, Cooper?”

“I can do it. Mommy says I’m a good helper,” he said eagerly and began to pull out the containers of food and set them on the blanket in front of them.

As he set them down, Dusty removed the tops to reveal fruit cut up in bite-size chunks, cubes of cheese, ham and cheese sandwiches, and three fat slices of chocolate cake. There was also bottled water and juice.

“Cake!” Cooper exclaimed.

“After a sandwich,” Trisha quickly replied.

They ate and talked and laughed and Dusty couldn’t remember the last time he’d known such easy joy. Just as Trisha had tackled the worms for bait, she ate with a gusto he found refreshing.

Even with Cooper’s presence, Dusty couldn’t help the small burn of physical desire she wrought in him. As she slipped a slice of strawberry into her mouth he wanted to chase it with his mouth against hers.

His fingers fought the need to loosen her hair and rake through the silky strands. When she threw her head back to laugh, he wanted to rain kisses down the length of her slender neck. The pearly snaps on her blouse seemed to beg him to pop them open and explore.

Thank goodness Cooper is here to keep you in line, he thought. The last thing he wanted to do was move too fast with her and frighten her away. Still, he couldn’t control the hot images that continued to dance in his head.

He also regretted the fact that the day probably wasn’t going to yield any answers as to why she had reacted the way she had the night before to the flowers and note that had been left for her. But this obviously wasn’t the time or the place to discuss the topic.

All he knew for certain was that he liked Trisha...he liked her a lot. He admired the way she mothered Cooper and that the three-year-old was obviously secure and happy in his mother’s love. That was the way it was supposed to be, that was something Dusty had never known.

He knew she must be a hard worker, otherwise Daisy would have let her go. The brassy red-haired woman was known to be a demanding boss.

She was well liked among the people she served at the café, and he’d never heard a whisper of gossip about her that would send up any red flags in his head.

She was obviously a strong woman. She had no family to depend on and had taken off from her familiar home to build a new life for herself and her son after the tragic death of her boyfriend.

He hoped that this was the beginning of something special between them. And more than anything, he hoped that he could be the man she wanted, the man she could depend on in her life.

The phantom pain shot off in his ear and he fought the impulse to raise his hand to cover it. The only sound he ever heard in that ear was the echo of voices telling him that he would never be good enough for anyone.

* * *

If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then the way to a single mother’s heart is definitely through her child, Trisha thought as Cooper and Dusty talked about the life of a cowboy.

Dusty had shown infinite patience throughout the afternoon. He hadn’t spoken down to Cooper or shown any kind of irritation at the boy with his million questions and abundant energy.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that Dusty was definitely a piece of eye candy with his white T-shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders and emphasizing his slim waist. And she’d never seen a man who wore a pair of faded jeans better than him.

He watched her lips when she spoke, as if he were contemplating another kiss. Far too many times the memory of the kiss they’d shared the night before intruded into her thoughts.

As the two of them snapped lids back on the food containers and returned them to the cooler, Cooper rolled over on his back and within seconds he was sound asleep.

Dusty gazed at Cooper and then grinned at her. “Ah, the action of a true cowboy who has indulged in the three major Fs of life,” he said softly.

“The three major Fs,” she repeated curiously.

“Fresh air, fishing and food,” he replied. With the last of the food put away, he stretched out on his side and propped his elbow up beneath him.

She smiled and mirrored his position on the blanket. “Add in a shortened nap in the afternoon and you get a little sleeping buckaroo.”

“He’s a great kid, Trisha.”

“Thanks. He’s definitely the magic in my life,” she replied.

“Are all kids his age as bright as he is?”

Trisha laughed. “I don’t know about all kids. I only know about Cooper, and I believe he’s incredibly smart for his age. I think a lot of it has to do with my babysitter, Juanita.”

“Juanita Gomez?” he asked. She nodded and he continued, “Her husband, Richard, worked on the Swanson ranch before he died of a heart attack. He was a good man.”

“Juanita has been a real gift to me. She’s been babysitting Cooper for the last year and a half, ever since I started working at the café.”

“The only kid I’ve ever spent any time around is Nicolette Kendall’s boy when she lived here at the ranch with Cassie.”

“Sammy,” she replied. “Nicolette, Lucas and Sammy come into the café occasionally. Lucas was one of the cowboys here before he met Nicolette and they moved to the ranch where they live now, right?”

“That’s right. Now that they’re married, Lucas told me they’re starting the legal proceedings so that he can adopt Sammy since his father is dead.”

“That’s nice. I hope that someday Cooper will have a father figure in his life.”

“Lucas was the first of us to find love. Then Nick Coleman wound up falling for Adrienne Bailey and Forest fell for Patience.”

“She had a pretty rough time here, didn’t she?”

Dusty nodded. “Yeah, her assistant wound up throwing her in the top of a corn silo in an attempt to kill her. It was a case of professional jealousy at its finest.” He shook his head. “Thank God Forest figured out she was in the silo and managed to get her out and in the process the two of them realized how much they loved each other.”

She eyed him with open speculation. “Tell me, Dusty, why don’t you already have a special woman in your life?” It had been something she’d wondered about for a while. He was handsome and sexy and kind, but she’d never heard any gossip about him and any woman. In fact, she’d never heard any negative gossip about Dusty at all.

His gaze held hers steadily. “I guess part of the reason is that for months I’ve had a secret crush on you and didn’t want to pursue anyone else.”

Her heart fluttered and a wave of warmth swept through her at his words. “Then why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

“You don’t exactly have a reputation around town for being a dating fiend,” he replied dryly. “I know a lot of men have asked you out before and you’ve turned them all down. It took me forever to get up my nerve and brace myself for what I figured would be an instant rejection. So, why did you agree to go out with me?”

She gazed at her son and then looked back at Dusty. “For the past couple of years my focus has been exclusively on working hard and raising Cooper. It’s only been in the last couple of months that I realized I was ready for more in my life.” She offered him another smile. “I guess the easy answer is that you were the right man at the right time.”

“I’m glad. And speaking of secret crushes, last night you reacted pretty violently to those flowers that somebody left for you.” There was an unspoken question in his voice.

The warmth that had suffused her dissipated. She had reacted badly the night before and he deserved some sort of explanation. She also needed to assure him that she wasn’t a crazy drama queen.

“When I was younger I had a stalker,” she finally replied. “It was one of the most frightening things I’ve ever experienced. When I saw the flowers and the note, I guess I had a kind of flashback to that time.” It certainly wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the complete truth, either.

His gaze softened. “I’m sorry you went through something like that, but I want you to promise me something.”

“What?” She eyed him cautiously.

“I want you to promise me that if you get another mystery gift, before you freak out and do something impulsive like leave town, you’ll call me. I don’t want you to be afraid, Trisha, but I also don’t want you to go away.”

The inner cold that had threatened to grip her never took complete hold as she saw the strength, the sweet possibilities that shone from his eyes. “Okay, it’s a deal,” she replied.

The blond-haired, blue-eyed man was definitely getting beneath her defenses far more quickly than she could have ever imagined. For the next few minutes the conversation turned to her desire to move out of the motel.

“I’d really like to buy a house, but right now it just isn’t feasible,” she explained. “I did find two rentals in the paper this morning and I think I’m going to check them out before I go in to work tomorrow. I want to make a move out of that motel room soon.”

“I’d be glad to go with you to check them out,” he said. “You know, kick the foundation and check out the roof.”

“I wouldn’t want to take you away from your work here,” she replied, although she wouldn’t mind having a second pair of eyes to see any potential issues that might arise.

“Our work schedule here is fairly flexible. Cassie doesn’t care how many hours we work or when we work them, all she cares about is that the daily chores get done.”

“Then I’d love to have you tag along. I’m planning on heading out around eleven. I have to be at work at the café by two.”

“Then I’ll meet you at the motel at eleven,” he replied with an easy smile.

Trisha was slightly surprised by her pleasure at the idea of spending more time with him the next day. Things were definitely moving fast between them, but she wasn’t at all sure that she wanted them to slow down.

“Is it time to go fishing again?” Cooper asked as he popped up from his prone position and rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists.

Dusty laughed and sat up. “Yeah, I think maybe the fish are especially hungry by now.”

“Good, ’cause I ’specially want to catch a big fish,” Cooper replied.

“Before we go let me hit you with some sunscreen again,” Trisha said and pulled a tube of cream out of her purse.

Minutes later Cooper once again wore his life jacket and the three of them were back on the dock with fishing poles in hand. Trisha watched in amusement how Cooper imitated not only Dusty’s stance but his facial expressions and actions, as well.

There was definitely a little bit of hero worship going on. Did she worry that Dusty might break her son’s heart? Absolutely, but she also wouldn’t take this wonderful experience away from Cooper for the world.

As they waited for a bite, Cooper asked a hundred more questions. Did fish have ears? Did they play games in the water? Did Dusty like fish sticks? Did he like fish sticks with ketchup?

Dusty answered each and every question with thoughtful consideration. And then it happened... Cooper’s bobber took a dive. He squealed and vibrated with excitement as Dusty hurriedly set down his own pole and helped Cooper reel in his catch.

Cooper whooped and hollered until they had the tiny perch on the dock. “I catched a fish! I catched a fish!”

“You sure did,” Dusty replied and crouched down next to the dancing boy.

Cooper grabbed Dusty by the face and kissed him on the cheek. Trisha didn’t know who was more surprised, herself or Dusty. He looked up at her with a stunned expression and then quickly gazed back down at the flopping fish on the dock.

“Ah, it’s just a baby,” Cooper said with disappointment. “It wouldn’t even make one fish stick, so I guess we’d better put it back and let it grow bigger.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Trisha said.

“Now I wanna catch a bigger one,” Cooper said once the fish had been returned to the water and his hook was once again baited and ready.

For the next half an hour nobody got any bites and Cooper showed all indications of becoming bored. Trisha had been surprised by how attentive he’d been throughout the day, but now that focus had been lost.

A glance at her wristwatch let her know it was almost seven. She was surprised by how quickly the hours had flown by. She was just about to tell Dusty that it was probably time for them to head back to the motel when he ripped up his pole and his line went taut.

“You got a fish, Dusty?” Cooper asked excitedly.

“I think so.” Dusty began to reel in with effort. Trisha couldn’t help but notice how his biceps popped with his exertion. Sunlight danced in his hair and she wondered how those golden strands would feel against her fingers.

Get a grip, she told herself even as the memory of their kiss played provocatively in her head once again. They were still early in their courtship—or whatever they were doing together.

“Is it big, Dusty? Is it a big fish?” Cooper asked.

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think it’s a fish after all,” Dusty said with a frown. “It feels like I’m reeling in a tree branch or a big stick.” He continued to reel in a little more easily.

Ripples appeared in the water and suddenly something bobbed to the surface. Smooth and covered with algae, the object shot a wave of horror through her. Was it...was it really...?

“Trisha, take Cooper over to the blanket.” Dusty’s voice registered a terse alarm.

“But I wanna see the big stick,” Cooper protested.

“Come on, son,” she said and grabbed him by his shoulder. “You’ve seen plenty of sticks before.” She hurried him away from the dock.

It wasn’t until they were seated on the blanket that she fully processed what had been on the end of Dusty’s line...a human skull.

Chapter 5

“I’m sorry about the way the day ended,” Dusty said two and a half hours later when they were finally in his truck and headed back to the motel. Cooper was sound asleep in his car seat and the deep shadows of night had moved in.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she replied easily. “I’m sure you didn’t plan for this to happen.”

He grimaced. No, there was no way in hell he would plan to fish up a human skull from the depths of the pond. The horror of the unexpected catch still rose up in the back of his throat.

“Thank goodness Chief Bowie was already on the property,” Trisha said.

Dusty didn’t reply. He knew why Dillon had been at the ranch. He’d been conducting more interviews with the men. If the skull turned out to be the one missing from one of the skeletons, it would only make the lawman look more closely at the cowboys on the Holiday ranch. And Dusty couldn’t imagine that the skull didn’t belong to the skeleton from the burial site.

“I’m just glad Dillon spoke to me away from you and Cooper and removed the...uh...item before Cooper got a glimpse of it,” he finally said. “I’d hate to be responsible for him having nightmares.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, surprised by the surge of protectiveness that rose up inside him as he thought of the little boy.

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