he came alone, Dawson Chisholm was a dead man.
Jinx studied him as he led her across the wide meadow, trying to decide how much to tell him. The cattleman had coal-black hair and the darkest eyes she’d ever seen. She guessed he had some Native American in him. He was also handsome as sin—not that she would admit to noticing.
What worried her was why he’d shown up when he had. Either his timing was just his bad luck or it was no coincidence. It had been her idea to hit the Chisholm Cattle Company, because she’d thought it was big enough that they wouldn’t be coming across anyone. But now she wondered if Rafe hadn’t gone along with it too easily.
“So what’s your real name?” Dawson asked, glancing back at her again. “I like to know who I’m dealing with.”
“Jinx is all you get, Chisholm,” she said.
He shook his head as if she was the most contrary woman he’d ever known. Clearly he hadn’t known many women, if that was the case. “The sheriff will get your name out of you.”
Jinx groaned. If he thought he could scare her with threats of the sheriff, he was sadly mistaken. She was far more worried about the killers she’d been riding with—and the dark-haired cattleman who had her tied and bound.
“I didn’t check to see if you had some sort of identification on you,” he was saying. “We might be able to settle this a whole lot quicker than waiting for the sheriff.”
“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to carry identification on me?” she snapped.
“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe anything you say? At this point, you don’t have a lot of credibility with me.”
Neither did he with her. “How is it you just happened to show up when we were about to rustle your cattle, Chisholm?”
“Just luck, I guess,” he said without turning to look at her.
She saw that they had reached the other side of the meadow and he was now leading her horse through the trees and up the mountainside to an outcropping of rocks. Did he think he could hold off seven men from there?
“These men I’m riding with are dangerous. When they come back for me—”
“What makes you so sure they’ll be back for you?” he asked. “I’m surprised they even let a woman ride with them to begin with. A woman would be a liability. Especially one named Jinx.”
Her temper flared from the insult. “I can ride with the best of men.”
He chuckled. “I noticed. But I would imagine it took more than that to get into a group of men like this one.”
She knew what he was insinuating and wished she could kick him where it would hurt the most. It hadn’t been easy getting in with the rustling ring. She’d had to lie, cheat and steal. Fortunately that was as far as she’d had to go once she caught Rafe’s attention at a bar down in Big Timber.
Rafe wasn’t the ringleader. He got his orders from someone else. But he was the one the others listened to. He’d put up a fight for her. The other rustlers riding with him hadn’t wanted a woman along, so she’d had to prove herself in their eyes. It wasn’t enough that she could ride a horse and shoot. She had to have something they needed—information. She’d given them Chisholm Cattle Company.
Jinx grimaced at the realization that she was the one who was responsible if Dawson Chisholm got killed—and the way things were going there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Unless there was a chance Dawson was working with Rafe. That would explain why he was here. She wouldn’t let herself worry about that right now. She had to keep her eye on her goal. Nothing could stop her. Not Rafe and all his men or this good-looking cattleman. When she got what she’d wanted, it would have all been worth it.
But as she stared at the determined set of Chisholm’s broad shoulders, she wondered how high the price was going to get before this was over.
Chapter Three
Emma finished the sandwich. Her mind had been racing since Aggie left her alone in the small room of the abandoned old farmhouse. She’d listened, wondering if the woman was also staying here in this house. Where else could she be staying with every law enforcement officer in the state looking for her?
Glancing toward the window, Emma considered using the tray the next time Aggie left it to try to pry off the boards. It would be no easy task, since someone—probably Aggie—had nailed them on with large nails that would be hard to remove even with a claw hammer.
Not to mention what Emma would do after that. It was a two-story house. Was she going to throw out the mattress, then throw herself after it?
Thinking of ways to escape was better than considering why Aggie had left her alive. What was she waiting for?
Emma’s first guess would have been Hoyt making bail. Once he was out, if Emma ended up dead, that would pretty much seal his fate. Somehow Aggie would plant evidence, as she had with Hoyt’s third wife’s body, to make him look guilty of her death, as well.
But Hoyt hadn’t been able to make bail. Did Aggie have something planned to get him out?
And what was her motive for any of this? If Aggie had fallen in love with Hoyt, as Emma speculated, then why send him to prison for murder? It didn’t make any sense unless … With a start, she realized why. What if they weren’t dealing with a sane woman? Stalking Hoyt to the point where she’d lost her job certainly made Aggie look more than a little crazy.
From what Emma had been able to find out, Aggie had become obsessed with the insurance investigation into the death of Laura Chisholm, Hoyt’s first wife. It had been ruled an accidental drowning, but since the body was never found …
When Hoyt’s second wife had died, that must have been enough to make Aggie reopen the first wife’s case.
So was that the problem? She was dealing with an insane woman bent on proving Hoyt was a killer—no matter the cost?
Her head still ached from the drugs and she was glad Aggie hadn’t seen fit to drug her again. Which meant there were no other houses nearby, no chance of anyone just happening by, no one to hear her calling for help. So she would save her breath. Not that she was a screamer anyway.
Emma had learned early in life to accept things the way they were, good or bad. Wasn’t that why she hadn’t wanted to know Hoyt’s past—because she hadn’t wanted to tell him about her own?
THE CAVE WAS ON THE SIDE of the mountain, but few if any people knew about it. Dawson had found it on one of his trips up to the summer range when he was a boy. He’d been following a buck deer that had disappeared near the entrance. He’d almost missed seeing the opening for the overgrown brush. He’d put some of the brush back after he’d explored the cave, wanting to keep it a secret even from his brothers.
As he led the horses up into a stand of pines below the hidden cave entrance, he kept his eyes and ears alert for any sign of the rustlers. The sun had dipped behind the trees, forming deep shadows beneath them. The air had turned colder, as it did up here in the mountains.
“This is a mistake,” Jinx said as
