style="font-size:15px;"> She’d been dreaming about people. Luke had been in one of them but she wasn’t sure in what way. The most vivid had been of her grandmother who had been baking. She’d offered Kate a taste of cookie batter from a long spoon. Kate had stared at her, tears running down her cheeks, mumbling over and over again, Gram, you’re like you used to be! You’re okay. And her grandmother had laughed. Of course I’m okay.
Kate swallowed a knot. “Where are we?” she asked as she glanced at Frankie.
“We just ran over the cattle guard that is the ranch’s unofficial welcome mat. Did you have a nice snooze?”
“I think so,” she said. “I’m sorry I keep falling asleep.”
“It’s no problem,” he said. “When you live out this far, you get used to time alone behind a wheel.”
She looked out the window. The waxing moon illuminated nothing but fields. Maybe there wasn’t a whole lot else to see. They traveled a couple of miles down a dirt-and-gravel road before cresting a hill. Below, Kate saw a large house and a scattering of dark buildings, but her gaze went to the winding path of the river. Her heart jumped into her throat. The Bowline River...the real reason she was here. She tore her attention from that tantalizing U-bend and concentrated on the house instead lest Frankie sense the direction of her thoughts.
“That’s my family’s house,” he said.
“Does everyone live there?”
“No. Gerard, Chance and Pike all built homes scattered about on ranch land.”
“But not you?”
He shrugged. “The only people who live full-time in this house are my father and his wife, my brother Chance’s fiancée, Lily, and her little boy, Charlie. They’ll move out after the wedding. I’ve talked to Grace and she says you’re welcome to stay with them.”
“What about you?”
“I have a room at the house for when I’m here or once in a while I stay with Pike.”
“Then you don’t live on the ranch?”
He cast her a quick glance. Dashboard lights illuminated part of his face and the dazzling white of his eyes. “I like my privacy, too,” he said.
“Touché,” she muttered.
Three dogs greeted them when they got out of the car. They all had dark fur though two also sported patches of white. Though difficult to tell in the semidark of the night, one looked like a Labrador retriever and the others like some kind of shepherd mix. Kate hadn’t had a dog since she was fifteen and she knelt to pat them and accept welcoming licks across the cheek. Frankie handed her the backpack. “What did you pack, rocks? This thing weighs a ton.”
She’d meant to grab the pack herself and gotten distracted by the dogs. She didn’t respond to his remark, just took the pack and moved off while he retrieved a small suitcase from his trunk.
As she approached the house, she heard the sound of moving water and unable to resist, walked along the path to a point where she could glimpse the moonlit river below. Its banks could be her salvation if she kept her mind on her priorities and goals.
“Kate?” Frankie said.
At the sound of his voice, she jumped about two inches into the air.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Huh? Oh, yes. It is,” she said and hoped he couldn’t hear her heart hammering in her chest.
“Do you like rivers?
“Why do you ask?” she said, startled.
She sensed as much as saw the rise and fall of his shoulders. “Oh, you know. Some people are into mountains and forests, others crave the desert sun, some like the water.”
She thought of Luke and the icy Bering Sea. “I guess I appreciate different things in all of them,” she said, looking up at his face. There was just enough light to see the curiosity at play in his eyes, curiosity she had no desire to arouse.
Or did she? When was the last time she’d felt as alive as right that moment? All day she’d been fighting a bone-weary fatigue except for the few hours spent in numb shock after discovering Dave Dalton’s body. Now, however, she was wide awake and most of that was because of what this river signified if she accomplished what she’d agreed to try. But she also knew that some of the way she felt was because of Frankie’s shoulder grazing her own.
Was she unconsciously soliciting his attention? Was this part of that urge she had to level with him? Why had this plan been so much easier in theory than it was turning out to be in reality? She stepped away from him, her backpack held in front of her chest like a shield. If he’d had X-ray vision what would he make of its contents?
“It’s getting late,” he said, touching her arm and sending a shiver straight to her spine. “Let’s see if anyone is still awake.”
She turned away from the river and from Frankie.
Tomorrow she’d get started. With any luck, she’d be gone by the day after.
And Frankie? He was an obstacle, yes, but he was also an illusion. There was no room for fantasy when a pack of hungry wolves howled at the door.
* * *
“YOU TWO MUST be exhausted,” Harry Hastings said. His gaze traveled from Frankie to Kate. “Young lady, how are you holding up?” This demand was made in his usual take-no-prisoners style.
Beside him, Kate kind of bristled. Frankie had called his family after he spoke to the police to report the hanging death of Dave Dalton so they could alert Gary Dodge and Pat Lowell, but he hadn’t told them that Kate required kid glove treatment.
“What do you mean?” she said.
“That horrible suicide, of course,” he replied, reaching for her backpack. “Hell of a thing for a young woman to come across.”
He was dressed in his pajamas and robe and explained that Grace was spending the night over at Kinsey and Gerard’s place. The baby was technically overdue and Grace spent as much time over there as she did here.
Kate tightened her grip on her backpack. “I’m fine,” she said. “Mr. Dalton’s...death...was tragic, of course. I feel bad for his family.”
“I’ve never understood suicide,” he replied. “Anyway, let me take that pack for you. Grace fixed up the downstairs room...”
“No, thank you,” she said firmly, her grip on her pack growing tighter. “I’ve got this.”
He held up both hands and laughed.
“Sorry,” she said and smothered a yawn. “It’s been a long day.”
“Of course,” his father said. “Frankie, get our guest settled. I’m off to bed. I know you have your hands full,” he added, “but I was hoping you’d have time to help me tomorrow morning. Pike and Chance rode out yesterday to the high pastures
