would you suggest we look for a body?” the deputy asked, clearly baiting him.
“Do you have any idea how hard this is on me?” he asked through clenched teeth. He had taken a step toward her, but now stopped, suddenly aware that her hand was resting on the butt of her gun. Did she really think he’d killed Jessica?
The heat, the quiet, the sickness in the pit of his stomach made him slump down on the edge of the creek bank. He put his head in his hands and fought back all the emotions warring inside him. “Please, just find her.”
HALLEY PULLED OUT HER CELL PHONE, all the while keeping an eye on Colton. He hadn’t moved from the creek bank. She got the number for Sid and Mildred Granger’s house. A woman picked up on the third ring.
“I’d like to speak with Jessica Granger,” Halley said and saw Colton lift his head. He frowned, the look he gave her appeared to question whether she’d lost her mind.
There was a beat of silence, then, “She isn’t here. She doesn’t live here anymore.”
“Can you tell me where I can reach her?”
Another beat of silence. “May I ask who’s calling?”
“Is this Mrs. Granger?”
“Yes.”
Halley heard the hesitation in the woman’s voice. “I’m Sheriff’s Deputy Halley Robinson. I know this is unusual, but can you tell me when you last heard from your daughter?”
“A week ago. We got a letter. Has something happened to her?” The woman sounded scared.
“No, I’m sorry to upset you. But I would like to stop by and ask you a few questions. Something of your daughter’s has been found. I’d like to return it.”
“Something of Jessica’s?”
“I’ll come by now if that’s all right. Is your husband home as well?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ll see you shortly.” She snapped the phone shut and looked at Colton. “I talked to Jessica’s mother. She says she got a letter from Jessica just last week. I’m going over there now to—”
“I’m going with you,” Colton said, shooting to his feet. “She’s lying. Jessica couldn’t have written her last week.”
A shaft of ice ran up her spine, even though the heat at the edge of the cottonwoods was intense. Why was he was so adamant that Jessica was dead unless … he’d killed her? She suddenly felt the isolation of this secret place where he used to meet his girlfriend. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stood face-to-face with a killer. But it would be the first time it was a killer she’d once loved.
“Why would her mother lie?” Halley managed to ask.
“I don’t know, but she’s lying. If Jessica was alive …” His voice trailed off, anguish twisted his handsome features into a mask of pain. “I want to see the letter she supposedly sent last week. I knew Jessica better than anyone.”
Was that so? She had no doubt that Colton had known Jessica intimately if this secret spot under the cottonwoods was any indication. But if he’d known her so well, then why didn’t he know what Jessica couldn’t wait to tell him that night?
One thing was clear. Colton was going to the Granger house. Better he go with her.
“Okay, you can come with me. But if you cause any trouble, you’ll be leaving their house in handcuffs, understood?”
He nodded and she couldn’t help but notice how pale he looked. She’d never seen Colton Chisholm this vulnerable. She’d thought it would give her some satisfaction. It didn’t.
EMMA FOUND HER HUSBAND IN THE BARN. He hadn’t gone to move cattle with all of his sons except for Colton, which wasn’t like him. She worried that he wasn’t feeling well. Or that something was bothering him. Probably her. Maybe he was regretting his impulsive rush to the altar.
She’d noticed that he’d been spending more time in the barn with his horses lately. Apparently, this is where he went when he was upset about something. She stopped just inside the door to watch him as he curried a palomino mare. Hoyt was in his late fifties, just a few years older than she was. He was a big, physically fit man with a thick head of blond hair that made the gray in it hardly noticeable. But what had stolen her heart like a thief was his penetrating blue eyes and self-deprecating charm.
She wondered about the other women who’d passed through his life and this curse her latest caller had mentioned. Had those women only known the Hoyt who laughed a lot and lived hard? Or had they stuck around long enough to know this Hoyt, the quiet, gentle rancher who Emma loved and worried about?
At breakfast she’d noticed that he was quieter than usual. Now she was sure something was eating at him and wondered how long it would take before he confided in her. Or if he would.
She was sure the other women who’d been in his life had been younger, slimmer and no doubt more beautiful than she was. She couldn’t help but wonder what had made him fall in love with her.
But whatever those other women had been like, Emma didn’t think Hoyt realized yet that he had a woman strong enough that he could lean on her.
He turned as if sensing her presence. His face lit up at the sight of her and sent her heart racing and her pulse drumming in her ears. It amazed her that this man had the ability to do that to her. She didn’t doubt that Hoyt Chisholm would be able to fill her with this same desire when she was ninety.
“Coming out here will only get you in trouble,” Hoyt said as he reached for her. He pulled her to him, nuzzled her neck, making her skin tingle. She felt his fingers slip under her Western shirt and skim across her bare midriff.
As he drew back, his gaze met hers, desire burning like a hot, blue flame.
“Have you ever made love in a hayloft?” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her.
“Never,” she whispered back when she was able to catch her breath. Clearly he had something else in mind other than talking about what was really bothering him. If he thought he could distract her … Well, he was right.
“But you’ve secretly wanted to, haven’t you?” He was grinning at her and she knew she would have given him anything.
“How is it you always seem to know my secret desires, Hoyt Chisholm?”
Without another word he took her hand and led her through the barn to the foot of the hayloft ladder. “Ladies first.”
She saw the dare in his gaze and had a feeling no other woman had been up this ladder with him. Emma kissed him and began to climb.
“WHAT THE HELL is he doing here?”
Halley studied the man standing framed in the Granger house doorway. She vaguely remembered Sid Granger. She’d seen him around town when she was a girl because he’d worked for the city and probably still did.
“I need to speak with you and your wife,”
