Colton Cowboy Hideout. Carla Cassidy
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“May I help you?” a disembodied male voice replied.
“Hmm, I’m Josie Colton and I believe I’m expected.”
The gates opened as if by magic and Josie pulled through. She glanced in her rearview mirror to see them closing behind her.
At least there didn’t appear to be anyone following her. For the past couple of weeks more than once a creepy-crawly feeling had suffused her, making her look over her shoulder for some phantom bogeyman.
“No bogeyman,” she said firmly and shoved the thought out of her head.
When she’d spoken to her distant cousin, Eldridge Colton, the night before, she had told him exactly what she wanted and why she needed his permission to be on his land. He hadn’t hidden a touch of amusement at her request, but had agreed to allow her access to the property.
Now here she was, and despite all she’d been through in her twenty-three years of life, nerves jumped and bubbled in the pit of her stomach.
She parked in the driveway and got out of her car. A light, hot breeze sent her long dark hair flying into unruly disarray and before she rang the doorbell she reached up to smooth the strands.
She was still finger-combing her hair and gathering her nerve when the door opened to reveal a tall, thin older man. Clad in a dark suit, crisp white shirt and gray tie, he sported a gray mustache and a bald head covered with a few thin wisps of gray hair.
“Eldridge?” she ventured tentatively.
“No, ma’am, I’m Aaron Mansfield, the butler.” He opened the door wider to allow her entry. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll see if Mr. Eldridge is available to see you.”
He turned and disappeared down a hallway as Josie gazed around at her surroundings. The huge foyer not only sported gorgeous marble floors, but there were also twin curved staircases that swept down from the second floor and nearly stole her breath away with their grand beauty.
She had been raised in a foster home and was most recently suspected of being a serial killer like her father. After spending seven years in the witness protection program in the small town of Excelsior Springs, Missouri, it would have been easy for her to be overwhelmed and intimidated by the opulence that surrounded her.
But Josie was a survivor and she was on a mission. She’d already been through more difficult times in her life than most people suffered in an entire lifetime. She refused to be cowed by anything or anyone. For the first time ever her family was depending on her to do a job and she didn’t want to blow it. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin as Aaron Mansfield approached her once again.
“Mr. Eldridge is still sleeping, but his wife, Mrs. Whitney, has agreed to see you in the parlor. Please follow me.”
He led her to a set of ornate double doors off the foyer. He opened them and gestured for her to enter. Josie swallowed a small gasp of surprise as she got her first sight of Eldridge’s wife.
Whitney Colton was clad in an emerald green dressing gown and lounged on a white chaise. Her shoulder-length blond hair was perfectly coiffed and her makeup was impeccable, enhancing her delicate features and bright green eyes. Josie knew Eldridge was seventy-five years old. His wife was at least two decades younger than him.
“Don’t dawdle. Come in,” Whitney said and waved a hand airily toward a nearby chair.
Josie quickly walked across the room to the chair and sank down. “Hello, I’m Josie Colton and I’m here to—”
“I know why you’re here,” Whitney interrupted. “My Dridgey-pooh told me all about you last night after you called him.”
Dridgey-pooh? Josie inwardly groaned.
“It’s so nice to meet a part of the family we don’t know,” Whitney said with a warm smile.
Josie relaxed against the back of the chair. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too. I really appreciate you all allowing me access to your property.”
“Dridgey-pooh said it was okay, so I suppose it’s okay. He told me all about your family. He said your father spent some time here when he was younger.”
“Yes, although it was about twenty years ago or so,” Josie replied.
Whitney leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a sudden hardness. “Tell me, Josie, how does it feel to be the daughter of an infamous serial killer? Oh, I probably shouldn’t have asked that. It was rude, wasn’t it? Please don’t be upset with me.”
The question might have been rude, but it was obvious the woman wanted an answer. And how on earth did one answer a question like that?
“It’s been rather difficult,” Josie finally replied.
Whitney’s mouth pursed in a slight pout. She was obviously not pleased with the shortness of Josie’s response. Her eyes suddenly widened and she leaned back against the chaise, her perfectly arched eyebrows raised in an unmistakable expression of fear.
“I certainly hope you don’t share any crazy homicidal tendencies with your father.” Her voice was suddenly breathy.
“You don’t have to worry—” Josie didn’t get the entire sentence out of her mouth before Whitney interrupted again.
“I don’t really like the idea of you being here at all, but the very last thing I want is to make you mad at me.”
Josie’s brain ping-ponged in her head with Whitney’s mercurial mood swings. Did the woman have some kind of mental problem? What was her deal? Before she could respond Aaron appeared in the doorway once again.
“Tanner is here to see you.” He no sooner got the words out of his mouth when a tall, blond man in worn tight jeans and a white T-shirt swept past the butler and into the room.
An unexpected butterfly took flight in the pit of Josie’s stomach as he gazed at her with the blue eyes of a cloudless Texas sky.
He gave a curt nod in greeting and then turned to Whitney. “I’m sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to let you know that Clementine birthed her foal early this morning and both are doing well.”
“Thank you, Tanner, and I am so glad you’re here.” She pointed to Josie. “This is Jodie Colton, one of Eldridge’s very distant cousins. She’s here to find a watch or something that is buried on the property. You can see to it that she gets what she needs as quickly as possible.”
There was still a touch of breathless distress in Whitney’s voice and it was obvious by her words that she wanted Josie gone sooner rather than later. So much for the warmth of her initial greeting, Josie thought.
The man walked over to Josie and held out a hand. “I’m Tanner Grange, the ranch foreman.”
Josie rose and shook his hand, the butterfly turning dizzying somersaults at the brief physical contact with his warm, slightly calloused hand. “Hi, I’m Josie Colton and it’s nice to meet you.”
“Jodie... Josie.” Whitney released a musical burst of laughter. “All I know is that it’s a beautiful Monday morning and