Cowboy At Arms. Carla Cassidy

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Cowboy At Arms - Carla  Cassidy

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about to tell Dusty that it was probably time for them to head back to the motel when he ripped up his pole and his line went taut.

      “You got a fish, Dusty?” Cooper asked excitedly.

      “I think so.” Dusty began to reel in with effort. Trisha couldn’t help but notice how his biceps popped with his exertion. Sunlight danced in his hair and she wondered how those golden strands would feel against her fingers.

      Get a grip, she told herself even as the memory of their kiss played provocatively in her head once again. They were still early in their courtship—or whatever they were doing together.

      “Is it big, Dusty? Is it a big fish?” Cooper asked.

      “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think it’s a fish after all,” Dusty said with a frown. “It feels like I’m reeling in a tree branch or a big stick.” He continued to reel in a little more easily.

      Ripples appeared in the water and suddenly something bobbed to the surface. Smooth and covered with algae, the object shot a wave of horror through her. Was it...was it really...?

      “Trisha, take Cooper over to the blanket.” Dusty’s voice registered a terse alarm.

      “But I wanna see the big stick,” Cooper protested.

      “Come on, son,” she said and grabbed him by his shoulder. “You’ve seen plenty of sticks before.” She hurried him away from the dock.

      It wasn’t until they were seated on the blanket that she fully processed what had been on the end of Dusty’s line...a human skull.

       Chapter 5

      “I’m sorry about the way the day ended,” Dusty said two and a half hours later when they were finally in his truck and headed back to the motel. Cooper was sound asleep in his car seat and the deep shadows of night had moved in.

      “You don’t have to apologize,” she replied easily. “I’m sure you didn’t plan for this to happen.”

      He grimaced. No, there was no way in hell he would plan to fish up a human skull from the depths of the pond. The horror of the unexpected catch still rose up in the back of his throat.

      “Thank goodness Chief Bowie was already on the property,” Trisha said.

      Dusty didn’t reply. He knew why Dillon had been at the ranch. He’d been conducting more interviews with the men. If the skull turned out to be the one missing from one of the skeletons, it would only make the lawman look more closely at the cowboys on the Holiday ranch. And Dusty couldn’t imagine that the skull didn’t belong to the skeleton from the burial site.

      “I’m just glad Dillon spoke to me away from you and Cooper and removed the...uh...item before Cooper got a glimpse of it,” he finally said. “I’d hate to be responsible for him having nightmares.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, surprised by the surge of protectiveness that rose up inside him as he thought of the little boy.

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