someone?” he challenged.
Abbie shook her head. “I didn’t see his face.”
He studied her, his glare getting even harder. “So why accuse me then?”
Now, here’s where she had to lie. “I was scared. Talking out of my head. I’ve never come that close to dying.”
And that, too, was a lie. A whopper, actually.
Oh, she’d come close all right.
The seconds crawled by, and even though her teeth were still chattering and the goose bumps were crawling all up and down her, that didn’t seem to give Mason any urgency. Even though he was no doubt cold, too.
That no-shirt part caught her attention again.
She didn’t want to look at him. Okay, she did. Once more she was intrigued by how the Ryland genes could have created this puzzling mix of danger and hotness. Under different circumstances, she might have been attracted to Mason Ryland.
Abbie mentally groaned at that thought. Not good. Thoughts like that could only make this situation worse. And she was already at worse. The trick now would be to stop the damage from escalating into a full-blown nightmare.
“I have to get out of here,” she blurted out. “I can’t stay.”
Still no urgency from Mason, and when she tried to move, he snapped her back in place. “You honestly believe someone tried to kill you tonight?”
Abbie thought about her answer. “Yes,” she said, even though she dreaded what he would ask next. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Why would someone want to kill you?”
Mason’s question hung in the air and was just as smothering and as potentially lethal as the fire and smoke had been. Abbie tried to shrug. “Since I’ve been here at the ranch, I’ve had the feeling someone’s watching me.”
Also the truth.
Without warning, Mason released the grip on her, but he continued that ruthless stare. “Did you tell anyone about this?”
Abbie settled for a head shake.
“Well, you should have,” he growled. “We have surveillance cameras all over the ranch, but they’re not monitored unless I’m aware there’s a problem. I wasn’t aware. Plus, there’s the part about me being a deputy sheriff. I would have been very interested in knowing that you thought someone might be watching you.”
“I’m sorry,” Abbie mumbled. But there’s no way she could have told him about her suspicions without making Mason and his brothers suspicious. “I’ll pack my things …” Except her things had all burned. She was literally wearing everything she owned. “I have to leave,” she repeated.
“Not a chance. If the fire was arson, there’ll be an investigation. Grayson will need to interview you. There will be paperwork. And I hate paperwork,” he added in a gruff mumble.
Grayson, the sheriff. Another set of cop’s eyes. Just what she didn’t need right now. But she couldn’t very well break into a run and expect to get away.
No.
Her best bet was to pretend to cooperate so she could get out of there as fast as possible. Then she could regroup and figure out what to do.
Abbie glanced down at her gown to make sure the pendant was still hidden. It was. “Could I maybe borrow some clothes?”
Mason didn’t jump right on that with a resounding yes, but he finally grumbled one under his breath. What he didn’t do was stop the staring, and he sure as heck didn’t move.
“For the record, I think you’re lying about something,” he informed her. “Don’t know what yet, but I will find out. And if you set that fire, so help me—”
“I didn’t set it,” Abbie snarled back.
“You’re willing to have your hands and clothes analyzed for traces of gasoline or some other accelerant?” he snapped.
The question stopped her cold. Under normal circumstances, no, she wouldn’t mind. She would even volunteer. But these were far from normal circumstances. She obviously needed to get out of there.
Still, Abbie nodded. “Of course.”
Mason stared at her. And stared. Before he finally hitched his shoulder in the direction of the fire and the other ranch buildings. “Come on.”
Not exactly a warm and fuzzy invitation, but Abbie was thankful they were walking. Not easily and not very quickly. After all, she was barefoot, and Mason seemed to be as uncomfortable as she was.
“Tell me why you came here,” Mason tossed out. A demand that almost caused her heart to stop. Until he added, “Why did you want to work at the Ryland ranch?”
“You asked that in the interview,” she reminded him, but Abbie paraphrased the lie to refresh his memory. “You have one of the best track records in the state for cutting horses. I wanted to be part of that.”
Mercy, it sounded rehearsed.
He made a gruff sound to indicate he was giving that some thought. Thought smothered with suspicion. “You knew a lot about the ranch before you applied for the job?”
Abbie nodded—cautiously. The man had a way of completely unnerving her. “Sure. I did a lot of reading about it on the internet.”
“Like what?” he fired back.
She swallowed hard and hoped her voice didn’t crack. “Well, I read the ranch has a solid reputation. Your father, Boone Ryland, started it forty years ago when he was in his early twenties.”
Mason stopped and whirled around so quickly that it startled her. He aimed his index finger at her as if he were about to use it to blast her into another county. Then, he turned and started walking again.
“My father,” he spat out like profanity, “bought the place. That’s it. He didn’t even have it paid off before he hightailed it out of here, leaving his wife and six sons. A wife who committed suicide because he broke her spirit and cut her to the core. He was a sorry SOB and doesn’t deserve to have his name associated with my ranch that I’ve worked hard to build.”
The venom stung, even though Abbie had known it was there. She just hadn’t known it would hurt this much to hear it said aloud and aimed at her.
“You don’t look as much like your father as your brothers do,” she mumbled. And before the last word had left her mouth, Abbie knew it had been a Texas-sized mistake.
Mason stopped again, so quickly that she ran right into him. It was like hitting a brick wall. An angry one.
“How the hell would you know that?” Mason demanded.
Oh, mercy.
Think, Abbie, think.
“I saw your
