drumming of his heart. “Who was Smiley with?”
Her brow furrowed. “Ain’t seen him before. Evan somethin’ or another.”
“Evan, or Everett?”
She shrugged. “Could be either, though now that you say it, I think Everett sounds right. Tried not to pay him no mind. A dangerous-looking man. Cold. Real cold.”
In a flash, the room receded, the walls, the floors, the roof, as he peered backward to the night his brother lost his life. He saw the two men who’d concealed their appearance with hoodies and scarves on that cold winter night. Pictured the names of the strangers listed on a local hotel registry that night. One in particular, Everett Ridland, had been a suspect in connection with another murder. The name, an alias, turned out to be another dead end.
“Where’d you bring them?”
“Shawnee.”
“What’s there?”
“Smiley works at Mountain Sky Dude Ranch sometimes. Could be he intended on asking them for money...” Her voice trailed off like the last air from a deflated balloon.
Jack straightened. He’d gotten everything out of her he needed...and more. The chances he’d finally locked onto his brother’s killers rose. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.” He handed her his card. “You call me if he turns up, now.”
Her hands shook as she snatched the card from him and backed away. “I told him. I said, ‘Smiley, I don’t want no part of any of your shenanigans. Leave me out of it.’ So you’re saying I’m going to lose my house?”
Jack shook his head. “Not if I get him first.”
“Good luck,” she called after him, then she shut the door fast, before he’d even stepped off the porch.
A couple of hours later, he drove through a darkened Shawnee and kept on going until his headlights illuminated the stone pillars holding up an arch that read Mountain Sky Dude Ranch. He glanced at his dash. Midnight. A good time to scout the property. The season wouldn’t have started yet, so no one should be up and about. He didn’t want to explain his presence to anyone in case Smiley or Everett—if it was Everett—got tipped off. His phone call to the owners had gone straight to voice mail.
Leaving his truck, he vaulted over the gate and slipped through the trees. A crescent moon hung low in the star-studded sky. Moving quickly but stealthily, he skirted a pasture of horses, careful not to get too close and spook any. When a number of them lifted their heads and neighed, he froze. Could Smiley and his partner hear that?
After a moment, he glided through shadows and headed for a hay barn. When he grabbed the latch, the unmistakable metallic slide and click of a bullet being chambered behind him sounded.
Reacting on instinct, he ducked, whirled and pointed his gun directly between the prettiest hazel eyes he’d ever seen.
DANI CRAWFORD NEARLY dropped her rifle when the lethal-looking prowler turned. Their eyes met, a dark promise in the depths of his, and her heartbeat thudded in her ears at his intent, hard-bitten expression. A scar snaked from the top of his left eyebrow, reappeared below his lower lid, slashed his high cheekbone and dipped to his full mouth.
A deadly badge of dishonor, by the look of it.
Some vicious fight he’d survived.
What’d the other guy look like?
Probably rotting in a grave.
A shiver slithered down her back at her fanciful imagination. Strands of hair blew in her face as the wind whistled across the hilly land and coyotes yipped in the distance.
“Hands up!” she ordered, sounding as tough as a gal could while standing barefoot in a tank and sleep shorts. Hopefully her rifle was doing the intimidating.
To her relief, her intruder placed his pistol in the grass and slowly straightened to a goliath height. His muscular, tattooed arms, revealed by a fitted black T-shirt, pointed at the new moon. His predator eyes never left hers and bumps rose on her exposed skin.
She should have grabbed a robe and sneakers. Searched out one of the ranch’s rare cell phone signals since she didn’t have a landline.
The moment she’d heard the horses and spotted someone moving on her employer’s property, she’d grabbed her gun and pursued, her cell phone shoved in her pocket. She would not—could not—let anything jeopardize the ranch that’d become a second home to her, a haven from her troubled past.
And now she stood alone with the most dangerous-looking man she’d ever seen. Her employers were hundreds of miles away, buying a new horse for the stable she managed. Her staff didn’t arrive for the new season until tomorrow. Would he know that? Was that why he’d come? She should have listened to her friend Ray’s admonishments to stay in town when she’d stopped at his bar earlier. Her tongue darted out and licked her dry lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered, then rose again.
“Didn’t mean to disturb you, ma’am.” His husky baritone seemed to move right through her skin, wrap around her chest and squeeze the air out of her like a python’s embrace.
“What’s your business here?” she asked, her heartbeat and her breath running wild.
He shrugged broad shoulders, something in the deceptively casual move making her even more fearful. His long, denim-clad legs suggested speed and agility; his flat abdomen, wide chest and lean waist screamed strength. Still. She had the gun. Was in charge of the situation. Yet his calm, relaxed demeanor raised doubts about who was really in control.
He acted like having a gun pulled on him happened every day.
Maybe it did. She studied the hard planes of his face.
“Just passing through.”
“You should have called if you wanted a tour,” she said evenly. Her pulse throbbed at the base of her throat.
The right side of his mouth curled, the easy expression putting her on the defensive just as much as his gun had. Maybe even more. “Prefer doing things on my own.”
“That right,” she drawled, weighing her options, fear making her bones shake.
Calling 911 wasn’t an option, even if she could get a signal. She’d avoided law enforcement since running from her Oklahoma-issued arrest warrant six years ago. Officers asked too many questions. Might connect her to the worst mistake of her past. Were within their rights to extradite her... She tamped down the horrible, nightmare thought.
He gazed at her steadily. “So. Are you shooting me? My arms are getting tired.” He rolled first one, then the other shoulder. Didn’t look bothered a bit.
And that bothered her a lot. Time to throw this fish back in the stream, much as she’d like to get to the bottom of his visit. Since an access road to the Pike National Forest crossed the property, sometimes disoriented stragglers turned up. It’d be naive of her to think a man like him would get lost, though. An armed man...
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