held up his hands. “I didn’t say that. It just occurred to me that Blue Boy could have been spooked by a stranger on the property the night he threw Cassie.”
“My sister grew up around horses. She wouldn’t have been thrown easily.”
“I agree with you, and I’ve thought about that quite a bit. She managed Blue Boy, and he’s a handful. It never made sense to me why your sister took off riding at night.”
Though she was relieved to have someone else voice her suspicions, the idea of bringing it all up to law enforcement fanned the anxiety in her gut. There was no other choice. If she wanted the police to look more closely at Cassie’s death, she needed to tell them what had happened. “I guess I’ll talk to the cops.”
He put down his coffee mug. “I’ll drive you to town right now.”
“You don’t need to drive me. I can…”
He pointed to her ankle. “I’ll drive.”
Before she could fire off a retort, Tank got to his feet and barked, pressing his wide face to the window. Logan pulled back the curtain. “Well, there’s one bit of good news, anyway.”
Isabel hopped over as Logan opened the front door.
A stocky man in jeans and a flannel shirt was dismounting Blue Boy. Two other people on horseback hopped down from their saddles, too.
Isabel couldn’t suppress a cry of joy at the sight of the horse. “Blue Boy. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
The stocky man shrugged. Isabel guessed him to be somewhere in his midthirties.
“Found him running loose on our property. I know he’s Miss Cassie’s horse.” He extended a hand. “I’m John Trigg.”
“Isabel Ling. My sister mentioned that you worked for her.”
He tipped his cowboy hat. “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve been taking care of things. I figured if Cassie had any family they would more than likely sell the property.”
Isabel didn’t miss the hint of petulance in his words. Instead of answering, she smiled at the other two people. A heavy-set man with a florid face stroked his mustache and stepped up onto the porch. “Hello, Ms. Ling. I’m Carl Trigg, John’s father.”
“And the mayor.” Isabel shook his hand. She smelled a trace of whiskey on his breath. “My sister told me you helped her a number of times. You own the adjoining property.”
He chuckled. “Sure do. It’s been our oasis from the political storm for years. Nothing like being out in nowhere to make you remember what’s important. This is my wife, Sheila.”
A blonde lady with shoulder-length hair extended a hand and clasped Isabel’s palm in hers. “Pleased to meet you. We were so fond of your sister.” Her eyes shifted to Isabel’s foot. “What happened? Have you had an accident?” She turned to Logan. “And this handsome soldier came to your rescue, I suppose?”
Soldier? That might explain Logan’s arsenal of rescue skills. Isabel invited them in, and the mayor and his wife settled next to her on the couch. Logan leaned against the door. John excused himself to return Blue Boy to the barn.
Mayor Trigg cleared his throat. “So tell us what happened, young lady.”
Isabel gave them a quick overview.
Mr. and Mrs. Trigg’s eyes grew increasingly wider until the mayor leaned forward.
“Somebody pushed you? Who would do that?”
Sheila frowned. “And why?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “That’s the question of the day. I’m going to drive to town so Isabel can talk it all out with the police.”
The mayor nodded thoughtfully. “Absolutely. Mountain Cloud is a pretty quiet town and we like to keep it that way. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Sheila caught Isabel by the arm. “I’m going to have John bring over some supper later. You shouldn’t be standing in the kitchen with a bum foot.”
“Oh, please don’t go to any trouble. I’ll be fine.”
Sheila laughed. “It’s not trouble, it’s being neighborly. That’s what people do here.” She pulled a card from her purse. “And here’s Carl’s business card. He never remembers to hand them out himself, even now that he’s running for the Senate.” She took a pen from her small waist pack and scribbled on the back. “Our home phone and my cell number, just in case you need it. We’re about a half hour east of here as the crow flies, but the road is twisty and steep.”
The overflow of concern made Isabel flush. She’d tried and succeeded at keeping to herself since her disastrous marriage had ended a decade earlier. Ten years of hiding in shame. It felt strange to be thrust into the middle of a community that returned lost horses and made dinners for others. She took the card and thanked them again.
When the rattle of hoofbeats died away, Logan helped Isabel to his truck. He stopped Tank from careening into her lap.
“Hey, buddy. You’re riding in the back this time.”
Logan started the engine and they drove off the property. As they did so, Isabel caught a glimpse of John closing the corral gate. The hostility on his face was clear in the look he gave them.
Cassie may have trusted the man, but something in his look told her to be careful.
Very careful.
THREE
Logan eyed Isabel as she sat on the hard-backed chair at the tiny police station, waiting to talk to an officer. When her turn came, he gave her a reassuring nod. “I’ve got to pick up an order. Tank and I will meet you back at the truck when you’re done. You okay to walk?”
She nodded. “Yes, my ankle’s better. I think the swelling’s gone down.”
He felt reluctant to leave, but he forced himself out of the building. Tank fell into step next to him. Logan could not shake the instinct that told him something was wrong. The watcher in the trees? His own unease when he’d started working on Cassie’s ranch?
Maybe, just maybe, it was the result of being close to a lovely woman again. Could a woman still have the power to unsettle him? As he quickened his pace toward the print shop, he felt the familiar pain build to a wall inside, stoked by the thought of how gullible he’d been, how stupid. It was as if he could hear Nancy’s revelation about the baby word for word in his mind. The baby that wasn’t his. The marriage that had never been enough. The world tilted in that moment, throwing off his equilibrium. He’d stumbled through months, years, after that, never quite recovering his balance. He ignored the pain in his ankle, aggravated by his effort to help Isabel, and moved quicker down the hot sidewalk, Tank panting behind him.
He wondered what the police would make of Isabel’s story. Stay out of it. She can fight her own battles.
Carl Trigg pulled to the curb and got out of
