The Rancher's Return. Karen Whiddon
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“Good thing we hightailed it out of town, then.”
“Especially since your house will be the first place he’ll look.”
Startled, he realized she was right. The history she and his brother had shared made him the obvious choice. “It’s okay. We should be safe.”
“What about your ranch? If the deed is in your name, it’s a matter of public record. Alex will find it.”
“Then it’s a good thing it’s not in my name. Since I was in prison when my uncle learned he had terminal lung cancer, he had his lawyer set up a corporation. Just in case I never got out. So there’s no way to trace it to me.”
Clearly relieved, she smiled again.
After they passed Fort Worth, she fell asleep, which told him she must have been exhausted. He let her doze, enjoying the time to think.
Once again, everything in his world had been turned upside down. He wasn’t sure what to make of any of this and had long ago given up on the idea of knowing who really killed his brother. In prison, he’d had plenty of time to wonder. All signs had pointed to Kaitlyn, for so many reasons.
She’d left Reed in her bed and had gone to Tim. Reed had suspected this, though he hadn’t known for certain. Her claim that she’d planned to break things off with his brother made sense, and if things had gone differently, he’d have been overjoyed. And guilty. Especially since he’d been the one in bed with his own brother’s girlfriend.
Reed didn’t blame her—he knew it took two to tango. He’d let it go on, even though he’d known better. The lingering looks, the electricity that coursed through him with every accidental touch, the way he’d burned for Kaitlyn, despite knowing he had no right.
But somehow he’d gone from sleeping with his brother’s girlfriend to being accused of murdering that same brother in cold blood. Kaitlyn had disappeared, despite the fact that she was his only alibi.
He’d been railroaded, he realized that now. The men who’d arrested and questioned him most likely worked for Alex. The district attorney who had indicted him on no evidence had been in Alex’s pocket, too. The judge definitely had been.
Reed had spent nearly three years locked away in that horrible place before his lawyer finally filed an appeal and got him a new trial. This time, the judge clearly hadn’t been on Alex’s payroll since Reed was now a free man.
Though his name had been forever blackened.
When he’d gotten out and returned home to Anniversary, he’d searched for Kaitlyn, of course. He’d intended to make her tell him why she hadn’t come forward, why she’d let him rot in prison, why, why, why. So many unanswered questions.
Damn it all to hell. Even though he had to admit her explanation made sense, in a twisted sort of way.
He had to question how Alex had gotten away with keeping a woman hostage for three years. Then he remembered the guy in Ohio or Indiana who’d kept three women prisoners in his basement for far longer than that. Such a thing definitely was possible, especially for a man with lots of money and influence.
As he drove, the land became flatter, the trees more sparse and twisted. He’d always liked the beginning of west Texas, because it was hardscrabble and tough.
The sun sank beneath the horizon, a fiery ball of orange and red, trailing rosy tendrils in its wake. Darkness settled over the land in increments, deeper and more velvety now that they’d left the city lights behind.
When he left the pavement for the rutted, gravel road that led to his ranch, Kaitlyn woke up. She yawned and stretched while he tried not to notice the way her T-shirt strained against her curves.
“Are we there yet?”
“Just about. We’ve got a few more miles on this gravel road and then we go off road and up.”
“Off road?” She sounded concerned.
“Yeah. It’s a path, sort of. That’s why I said that fancy car you were driving wouldn’t do well here. This truck can make it, no problem. So could a Jeep or an ATV. That’s about it.”
Nodding, she squinted into the darkness. “I like that. It makes me feel safe.”
He grinned. “I enjoy coming out here. I always feel more alive. Like I’m free. I’ve even been thinking of selling my house in Anniversary and moving out here permanently.”
“Really?” She didn’t sound surprised at all. “I can see that.” Giving him a quizzical look, she appeared to be considering asking him something.
“Go ahead,” he prompted. “We’ll be spending a fair bit of time together, so you might as well ask whatever it is that’s bothering you.”
“Okay. I know you said you could work anywhere. Back before all this craziness happened, you were VP at the bank. What do you do now?”
“The bank didn’t want me back,” he said quietly. “And who could blame them? Not many people are willing to hire a felon, even though my murder conviction was overturned. The ranch brings in a nice income, which I supplement with my own business.”
“Which is?”
He found himself hesitating, not sure exactly why. He was proud of what he’d accomplished, and the way his orders had grown so much he’d had to hire a couple of guys to help him out, precutting forms in bulk. “I make custom bird feeders and birdhouses. I sell them from my website.”
“Really?” The surprised pleasure in her voice washed over him. “That’s amazing. You’ll have to show me the website later, assuming you have internet way out here.”
“We do. I purchased mobile Wi-Fi, so I’m never without internet access.” Slowing the truck down, he squinted into the darkness. “Brace yourself. We’re fixing to go off road.”
There—the fence post with the three boards nailed to it, making a small triangle, with a letter W in the middle. Putting on the brakes, he let his headlights point out the marker. “See that? Pyramid W Ranch.”
“W for Westbrook?”
He grinned, pleased. “Yep. Are you ready?”
At her nod, he turned the truck toward the gap in the fence. “Hang on.” The tires rattled as they crossed the metal crossing guard. “The road’s kind of rutted in places, so get ready to bounce.”
He’d barely gotten the last word out when they hit the first of many crevices. Once they were over, he turned to glance at her. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” One hand gripped the door handle, the other the dashboard in front of her. “My teeth are clattering, but I’ll be fine.”
“Good. Because we’ve still got a ways to go.”
By the time they reached the turnoff that wound up the hill to his small ranch house, Kaitlyn appeared