lost.
After she gave Misty a hug, Tab made her way through the sage and dried prairie grass to where Shua was nibbling at a shrub. Aiden strode toward her. “Leaving so soon?”
“Not that it hasn’t been fun,” she said. “The sheriff can contact me later for a statement.”
“I’m glad you’re heading out while there’s still enough light to see where you’re going. You haven’t lived around here for a couple of years. Things change.”
As far as she could see, the change was minimal. The local landmarks—rolling hills, ridges and the river—were much the same as when she was a kid. On the opposite side of the Little Big Horn, she saw the sandstone cliff and the familiar arch above Half-Moon Cave. The land was eternal; the people were different.
She glanced over her shoulder at Misty’s little nest on the striped wool blanket. Though Clinton had his arm around her, Misty’s shoulders slumped, and her head drooped. “I’m worried about her,” Tab said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, call me.”
“Sure.”
His hand rested on Shua’s neck, and he stroked along the line of the horse’s mane. The gesture was completely natural, like the absentminded way you might pet a cat that jumped on your lap. This casual attitude around livestock said a lot about Aiden.
Unlike most of the men she’d dated in Billings and Missoula, he’d grown up on a ranch and was 100 percent cowboy. Right now, he was wearing a baseball cap instead of a Stetson, but he still looked the part with his long, lean body, his scuffed boots and his well-worn jeans. His hands were calloused. His wrists were strong. And his gray eyes had that cool awareness that came from hours of staring across the wide prairies, watching over several hundred head of cattle.
Had he changed? She wasn’t sure.
Though she wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was still a little bit blinded by her crush on him. When she looked at him, her pulse rate quickened. She had to swallow hard before she trusted herself to speak without stammering.
“I’m serious about having Misty call me,” she said. “She needs a friend.”
“You got that right. The girls she used to pal around with in high school are off at college, joining sororities and having all kinds of fun.” A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I wanted that for her. Misty’s a smart kid.”
“You make it sound like her life is over.”
“She wanted to be a lawyer, talked about it all the time. She was planning to take on injustice and set the world straight. She’d sent off her application to a couple of universities, and she’d gotten accepted.”
“A lawyer, huh? That’s terrific.”
“Now, she’s going to be stuck on the ranch.”
Tab didn’t like his attitude and all that it implied. “She doesn’t have to give up her dreams. Having a baby isn’t the end of the world for Misty.”
His gaze met hers, and she braced herself for a bullheaded argument about how womenfolk are supposed to stay home and tend the young. Instead, Aiden said, “You’re right.”
“You’re damn right that I’m right.” She’d gotten herself all puffed up for no reason. “Right?”
“I’m not fighting you, Tab.”
“Well, good.”
“Misty needs to hear that she’s still got opportunities. She can still go to college and to law school.” His expression warmed. “It’d be good for her to spend time with you.”
Being close to Misty meant also being near him, which might be the very definition of a win-win situation. She cleared her throat and reached for her saddle. “I should mount up.”
“Not yet.”
When he lightly touched her shoulder, she spun around to face him. He was standing so close that she could see the prisms and facets in his eyes. “What is it, Aiden?”
“If you’ll wait a bit before you get up on your horse, I’d like to walk with you.”
“Suit yourself.”
Taking the reins, she stepped in front of Shua and made a clicking noise. The horse ambled along behind her as she and Aiden strolled along a path that followed the winding course of the river.
“To tell you the truth,” he said, “I’d like to escort you all the way back to your grandma’s place and make sure you get home safely.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Can you? If Misty’s story is true, the shooter might still be in the area.”
She looked up at him. “That hadn’t occurred to me.”
“It’s unlikely he’s still around, but it’s something to keep in mind. At that meeting in Crow Agency, nobody actually said we might be facing a serial killer. But it’s possible.”
She remembered the serious tone of the meeting and the warning to be on the lookout. “I thought the meeting was about two missing girls from Henley who were last seen on the rez.”
“There’s more to the story,” Aiden said. “A couple of months ago, at the end of the summer, the sheriff in Billings found the body of a tourist who had been camping. She was raped and murdered. Since then, three other girls have disappeared. All the victims are blonde, like Misty.”
Tab touched her long, black braid. “I guess that means I’m safe.”
“You can’t make that kind of assumption with a crazy person. His M.O. might change in a flash.”
Fear nibbled at the edge of her mind. “I’ll keep my rifle handy. And I won’t dawdle.”
“Call me when you get home.”
Her cell phone wasn’t much protection. Not only was the reception spotty but nobody would reach her in time if she called for help. “He used Misty’s rifle. Does that mean he doesn’t have his own gun?”
“I don’t know,” Aiden said.
“Have you been working with the police? You seem to know a lot about the murdered tourist and the girls from Billings.”
“I volunteer my chopper to look for missing persons, keeping an eye on things from the sky. I like to go up as often as possible.”
“You enjoy flying?”
“From the first time I rode in a chopper, I loved it—swooping through the skies, leaving gravity behind and soaring free.” The tension in his face relaxed as he looked heavenward and grinned. “It’s the freedom. No restraints. No regrets.”
“And no responsibilities,” she said.
“That, too.”
Aiden had been forced to take on a lot after his father died.
