trying to break up the lump of dread lodged firmly inside it. Anger, too, that he’d let himself be suckered. Allowed himself to believe that, against all odds, some part of his brother had survived.
He cranked the big pickup’s engine and listened to it roar to life. How stupid can you get? The Ian he knew and loved never would have kept a child secret, never would’ve failed to see to Eden’s support or named her as a beneficiary in the event of his death, either. Sure, their father would have cursed him for a fool for fathering a child out of wedlock, but like Zach, his younger brother had used the military to put distance between himself and the harshness of the old man’s judgment.
To put distance between himself and the legacy of dust and duty that was all Zach had left now.
He was pulling up to the corral when a call came through on the satellite phone he’d purchased to keep in touch with his cowboys anywhere on the ranch.
“Zach, this is Sheriff Canter,” said the caller as soon as he had answered.
Hearing the agitation in the man’s voice, Zach guessed, “That reporter stopped by your office to see you, did she? I figured she might, after we told her we hadn’t seen her sister.”
“Not exactly, she didn’t. She had a little run-in with ole Hellfire over by Tumbleweeds.”
“Danny McFarland?” Zach swore under his breath. Unwelcome visitor or not, he should’ve warned the Layton woman about tracking down and questioning Frankie’s ex-con brother. Probably, that would have only made the mule-headed reporter more eager to find and question the man, but still... “He didn’t hurt her, did he?”
An image of her pretty face, bruised and bloodied, flashed across his vision. He swallowed hard, jaw stiffening, though he couldn’t say for certain why it was any of his business.
“Nah,” said Canter, the casual contempt in his tone reminding Zach why he hadn’t liked him years before and still didn’t. “Hellfire looks big and bad, but he’s toned down his act these days, now that he’s a man of bidness. Just made her mad enough to call and insist on pressing charges. Waste of time was what I told her. Sooner she heads home and forgets about this nonsense, the better. From what your mama told me months ago, the sister skipped rent and skipped town with her lowlife boyfriend. Which suits me just fine, I can tell you. I was gettin’ mighty tired of driving out there to make sure they weren’t at each other’s throats again.”
Zach rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache of his own coming on. “So Frankie was violent with her?”
“Hell, when those two got to drinkin’, they were violent with each other. I had to put ’em both in separate cells one night to cool off after they got into a knock-down drag-out over at the Prairie Rose.”
Despite the sweetness of its name, the century-old saloon perched on the town’s outskirts was as famous for its rowdy brawls as its watered-down liquor. Zach remembered a handful of fights he’d taken part in back in the day, burning off his restless energy and frustration in the weeks before he’d left home. In fact, it had been George Canter—still a deputy at that time—who’d advised him to get your sorry ass off the ranch and out of this town before it completely ruins you.
“Hellfire was tryin’ his best to reform him, but the rest of the Prairie Rose crowd had been layin’ odds on how long it would be till Frankie finally up and killed her.”
What if he had, Zach wondered, then taken off for parts unknown? Could Jessica Layton, with those green eyes that looked so uncomfortably like Eden’s, be looking for a living sister when she should be searching for a corpse? It would certainly explain why Frankie had suddenly skipped town, and possibly why his mother had been so quick to react—or overreact—when Haley’s twin showed up asking questions.
“What I don’t understand,” Zach said as another thought struck him, “is why’re you calling me about this.” Had the reporter said something to Canter, something that might raise the sheriff’s suspicions about his mother?
His gut twisted with the thought—and with the certainty that a third loss would utterly destroy her. Especially the loss of a child as sweet and full of life as Eden.
“I’m calling to find out a little more about Jessica Layton’s visit out to your place this afternoon.”
“Mama told her on the phone that Haley had moved on,” Zach said, struggling to sound casual, “but Jessica had to come see for herself, I guess, make sure we weren’t hiding her twin under a cow pie or something.”
“I guess you know as well as anyone how these reporters are, always smelling a conspiracy,” Canter said, his pointed look reminding Zach of the incident that had cost him his wings. “And that young woman—I’m thinkin’ that she’s not finished sniffing around here yet.”
“You’re sure? You said that Hellfire knocked her down, and you warned her yourself to move along.”
“I didn’t warn her.” Canter sounded testy at the suggestion. “I just gave her a little friendly advice. But when she and that sawed-off excuse for a man she’s got with her rolled out of town, I noticed that she didn’t take the road toward Dallas. Best that I can figure, she’s headin’ straight back to your ranch.”
The hell she is, Zach decided, intent on heading her off and sending her packing before she had the chance to bother his mama again—or get a closer look at his supposed niece.
Chapter 4
The light was almost gone by the time the dusty blue Prius followed the power lines that led them to the old bunkhouse.
“You sure this is it?”
Jessie peered past Henry and nodded. “Has to be. Nancy Rayford said herself the place was on the East Two Hundred—and you saw what I brought up on the satellite map.”
During their long wait for the sheriff’s arrival, Jessie had taken full advantage of a nearby cell tower, using the connection to pore over the area surrounding the Rayford ranch. Sure enough, there was a large parcel to the east of the ranch house, and she’d been able to zoom in on the only rooftop, which appeared to belong to a small outbuilding. Some days, she absolutely loved technology.
Despite her show of confidence, however, she hadn’t been entirely certain whether they would come across the bunkhouse or a half-collapsed barn—not until her headlights skimmed the front porch of the narrow structure. Putting the car in park, Jessie took note of the boarded windows, the sagging roof and the tall brush. Piles of spindly tumbleweeds had blown up against the west side of the narrow building, mounding like a snowdrift. As sad and lonely as the place looked, she was almost certain it had served as someone’s living quarters. But had her sister and her boyfriend lived here recently?
“Looks like it’s been empty for a while,” she said, pointing out the unbroken yellow stalks of grasses that had come up in front of the steps. “Months, at least.”
“If I didn’t know better,” said Henry, “I’d say the place has been abandoned for years.”
Jessie nodded, speechless as she took in the warped, unpainted wood and the air of desperation. Despite the presence of electricity and what she thought might be a well house, Jessie ached imagining her twin living in a shelter that barely looked fit for animals.
If their father could have seen
