None of his business—just like the lights he sometimes saw down by the river and the muffled sound of horse hooves that often accompanied them. None of his business—just like the occasional gunfire he heard echoing down the canyon. None of it was his business.
But as he pulled his pickup truck into the last open spot on Main, Cole found himself looking around, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He knew she was still in town—half a dozen people had told him she was asking around for another guide. She was looking for trouble, he thought, just begging for it. His gaze went up the street then down. The black Blazer was nowhere in sight, and the tightness in his chest let up slightly.
Opening his door, he eased out of the vehicle and stepped down into the street with relief.
The feeling was short-lived.
He saw her almost immediately. She was inside Pearson’s, the general store located directly in front of Cole’s pickup, and a stack of camping gear was piled beside her. Through the shimmering plate glass window, Cole noted a sleeping bag, a camp stove, a backpack, and various other small packages and boxes. He swore under his breath. Unless she had developed some skills he didn’t know about in the past two years, Taylor Matthews was about to do something incredibly stupid.
He didn’t stop to think—he went directly inside the store and walked up to her. “What are you doing?”
Her eyes jerked to his. They were light green, the exact same color as the leaves of the cypress tree, the one that grew by the springs out at the ranch. “I’m taking a trip,” she said slowly. “A camping trip.”
“Where?”
“To Diablo.”
“I don’t think that’s a very smart thing to do.”
She tilted her head, the morning sunlight picking out reddish glints in her hair. “I’m a grown woman, Mr. Reynolds. I can take care of myself.”
“Like you did two years ago?” Her eyes widened at the bluntness of his words, but he didn’t back down. He couldn’t. She had no business going out there alone. She was totally incapable of dealing with the land and its dangers. “I would think you’d know better by now.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly. “I’m well aware of the risks, but I’ve found another way to accomplish my goals. A way that doesn’t include you.”
“And that would be?”
“With Charles Karnet.”
“Karnet’s a helicopter pilot, not a tracker.”
“I know that. He’s going to fly me into the ranch and drop me off by the canyon.”
“And leave you alone?”
She nodded.
A nearby movement suddenly caught Cole’s eye, and he turned his head to see Earl Pearson. Hovering near them, beside a stack of used paperbacks, the owner of the general store was listening to every word they said. The man was harmless, but Cole didn’t like anyone hearing his business. He took Taylor’s elbow and led her a few steps away. Beneath his fingers, her skin was smooth and cool. He dropped her arm as soon as he could.
“You’re making a mistake. You shouldn’t go out there.”
Her expression became guarded, a shadow coming into her eyes he didn’t quite understand. “What are you saying?”
He ignored her question. He wasn’t sure he knew how to answer it. “Why do you want to go there so badly?”
“I explained that already,” she said. “I need closure. I can’t go forward until I put what happened behind me—”
“Can’t you do that from here? Why would you want to go back to the place your husband died? The place that holds so much of your own blood?”
Her eyes turned a darker shade of green. Behind the color was pain. “You don’t understand. If Jack had gotten some kind of justice, I might have put it to rest, but he never did. I’ve tried to forget about it, but I can’t and it’s getting worse. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I have nightmares—” She stopped abruptly and took a very deep breath. “I have to go out there. I don’t have a choice.”
Cole stared at her, his gut churning. The hell of it was—he did understand what she was saying. He understood perfectly. For some crazy reason, he’d had to visit Rancho Diablo as soon as he could after the shooting. It’d been pointless, though. The “closure” she sought wouldn’t be discovered in the desolate stretches of the ranch any more than his had. The only difference between them was he knew it. She didn’t.
He tried once more. He had to. “You shouldn’t go out there by yourself.”
When she spoke, her voice was fierce. “Then come with me. Let me say my goodbyes the way I want to. After that, I’ll never ask you to do anything for me. I’ll leave here, and you’ll never see me again. I promise.”
If he turned his back on her and she went alone, she probably wouldn’t return alive. If he got involved and they went together, God only knew what would happen. He’d been fighting off his memories for so long, the reality of actually being with her might be too much.
One way or the other, Cole was doomed.
He glanced outside to the mountains and wondered just what kind of mistake he was making. He was afraid he knew but there was nothing that could be done about it. He didn’t have a choice, either. Gesturing toward the pile of camping equipment at her feet, he met her gaze once more. “Be at my place at five in the morning. We’ll drive as far as we can, then pack in. Count on two days, one night.” He paused. “And get rid of this junk. I’ve got everything we’ll need.”
Her emerald eyes turned warm all of a sudden. “Thank y—”
He stopped her, his callused palm held out between them. “Don’t thank me for this, Taylor. Believe me, I’m not doing you any favors.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SURPRISED BY COLE’S sudden capitulation but too happy to question it, Taylor watched him climb awkwardly into his beat-up truck a few seconds later. Through the window, she stared as he pulled away, red dust rising in a cloud thick enough to obscure his departure. When she turned around, the owner of the store was looking at her. He was a strange little man with a rounded face and eyes that didn’t quite match. As she watched, the left one twitched violently.
“I’m afraid I won’t be needing these things after all,” she said apologetically. “My plans have changed.”
The man tilted his head toward the street. “You going to Diablo with him?”
His question surprised her, but then she reminded herself that High Mountain wasn’t Houston. Everyone knew everyone else. “Yes,” she answered. “Cole will be guiding me in. He has his own equipment. You know who I am?”
He nodded. “Everybody knows who you are. We got long memories ’round here.”
“Then I guess you know I’m selling the ranch.”
His
