frowned, trying to recall. “No, I think it’s been more like ten months. Last I remember, he was still on the road following the rodeo circuit. We talked about meeting up in Oregon this summer to go white water rafting and fly-fishing on the Rogue River.”
“Damn.” Cade’s disappointment carried clearly over the line, as if he were standing in the tent with Zach instead of thousands of miles away. “I was hoping you’d talked to him.”
“We’ll find him, Cade,” Zach said. “None of us ever goes a year without checking in. If he and Eli haven’t called you before I reach Indian Springs, I’ll have Angela start searching, too.” His assistant was as reliable as a bloodhound at tracking down information. “I’ll head out as soon as I can. First, I have to get off the mountain and there’s a storm kicking up so just leaving Nepal might take a while.”
“All right. Let me know if you need a ride from the airport. And Zach …” Cade paused, his voice rougher, deeper when he continued. “I’m glad you’re coming home.”
“It’ll be good to see you, Cade,” Zach told him, his voice quiet. “It’s been too long. And don’t worry about Eli and Brodie—we’ll find them.”
“Right. See you soon.”
And Cade hung up.
Zach switched off the satellite phone and frowned, staring unseeingly at the black plastic. He hadn’t seen his father since he and his brothers left the Triple C ranch thirteen years earlier. He hadn’t had any contact at all with Joseph Coulter—and he’d been fine with that, relieved even. So why did he feel a wave of sadness at the news that his father was gone?
A swift mental image of Joseph’s furious face the morning he’d left was quickly replaced by the same face, warm with affection, before Zach’s mother died.
That’s why I feel sad, Zach thought. Because there was a time when life on the Triple C was good.
But the good times ended for her family when Melanie Coulter died. Joseph became a different man—a man who hated his sons and blamed them for her death.
Zach shoved the painful emotions deep and forced himself to focus. He couldn’t do anything to change the past. He had to deal with the present. His mind raced as he considered the logistics necessary to leave the Asian continent and return to Montana.
And the home he’d left behind years ago.
“What’s the weather report for tomorrow, Ajax?” he asked, turning to the team leader. “I need to get off the mountain. Now.”
Chapter One
Indian Springs, Montana
A week later, Zach stepped out of the Billings, Montana airport terminal at just after 1:00 p.m. and was welcomed by warm spring weather.
Normally he enjoyed the adventure of travel, but for once he was damn glad to have solid ground under his feet. Swinging his loaded duffel bag over his shoulder, he raised a hand to hail a taxi.
He left the lot at Haagensen’s Auto Rentals driving a new pickup truck an hour later, the leasing documents tossed on the passenger seat beside him as he headed north toward Indian Springs and the Triple C Ranch, where he’d grown up. He hadn’t been in eastern Montana for thirteen years—not since he and his brothers, Cade, Brodie and Eli had left the Triple C the day after Eli, the youngest, graduated from high school. They’d all sworn they’d never come back, and Zach had mixed feelings about returning even now. But Cade had said he needed him and his brother rarely asked for anything.
In fact, Zach thought as he slipped sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, he couldn’t remember the last time Cade had asked him for a favor.
He made good time, even making a quick stop for a much-needed cup of coffee. When he was fifty miles south of Indian Springs, his cell phone rang. A quick glance at caller ID made him smile.
“Yo, Cade, what’s up?”
“Zach, glad I reached you. Where are you?”
“About fifty miles out. I should be there in less than an hour.”
“Can you stop at Ned Anderson’s law office in town first?” Cade asked. “He has documents for you and the keys to the Lodge.”
“Can I see him tomorrow? I’d rather come straight to the Triple C.”
“You could—but it would be better if you talked to Ned first.”
“All right. But you owe me, and as soon as I sleep for about forty-eight hours and can function again, I’m collecting.”
Cade’s deep chuckle sounded over the connection. “Just as long as it’s food or a bed, you’ve got it. Anything else and you might be out of luck.”
“Works for me. See you in a couple of hours.”
Zach disconnected before he remembered he hadn’t asked Cade why he wanted the lodge keys picked up. And why Cade hadn’t collected them himself.
Oh, well, he thought with a mental shrug. I’ll see the attorney, then head out to the ranch. Then I’ll find a bed and sleep until tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.
He rubbed his eyes; the inside of his lids felt as if they’d been sifted with sand. He’d lost track of time somewhere during the endless round of waiting for trains and planes, and he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d slept more than a couple of consecutive hours. Weariness dragged at him.
He rolled his shoulders, picked up his coffee and swallowed the barely drinkable brew. Caffeine had kept him going this far, he reflected. It would have to do for a few hours more.
He reached the outskirts of Indian Springs and within minutes was driving down Main Street in the center of the small town. He scanned the businesses, locating the attorney’s sign halfway down a block, and angled his truck into a parking spot.
He yawned, scrubbed a palm over his face and stepped out of the pickup and onto the curb before he stopped abruptly, riveted by the sight of the petite blonde standing a few yards away with her back to him. Tired though he was, testosterone fired off rockets, sending adrenaline racing through his bloodstream and erasing his weariness as if it had never existed.
He was so focused on the gleam of sunlight in silky blond hair and the slim, curved body in snug jeans and red sweater that he paid little attention to the man she was talking to.
But then the pretty blonde moved to walk on and the older man shifted to stop her.
Her shoulders moved in a faint shudder before she lifted her head, her body tense.
Oh, hell, no. A surge of protectiveness had Zach stepping forward as he heard the woman’s clear feminine voice ask the man to step aside.
Cynthia Deacon left the small but well-stocked department store on Main Street and stepped out into the warm afternoon sunshine. A shopping bag holding a new pair of crimson lace bikini panties dangled from the fingers of one hand.
Slipping sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose,
