looking into store windows. She’d had on white shorts and a blue tank top. The sight of her long, gorgeous, deeply tanned legs had made him forget all about being behind the wheel of his prowl car and he’d come dangerously close to running into a light pole.
He’d hit the siren and taken off so fast that his tires had squealed, but he was pretty sure Jenna hadn’t seen his embarrassingly narrow miss with that pole.
It was a memory Bram actually hated, for invariably it was followed by sexual contemplation of how it would feel to have those incredible legs wrapped around him, which led to other erotic thoughts that never failed to cause him more misery than he believed he deserved.
Sucking in a ragged breath, he forced himself to think about something else. The first topic to come to mind was the odd events occurring around town—the fire at the courthouse, for one, and the burglary of the local newspaper office for another. It appeared the fire had been arson, which made little sense, for why would anyone want to destroy Comanche County’s courthouse? Of course, arson was usually senseless to everyone but the person who actually lit the match. It was too bad Jared and Kerry hadn’t gotten a look at the arsonist that night. It was almost inconceivable that they had been in the very next room when the perpetrator had lit those candles. Thank God they’d seen the glow of the fire once it had gotten started, or there wouldn’t even be a shell of the courthouse left. But the whole thing was as disturbingly mysterious tonight as it had been from the start.
And why in hell would someone break into the newspaper office and then leave without taking anything, when there’d been computers and other costly items throughout the place? That reporter had been right to question the motivation for that seemingly senseless crime.
There was one more thing nagging at Bram. He’d heard rumors about two different strangers asking questions about the Colton family. They had to be connected to the courthouse fire and possibly the Chronicle break-in, but why didn’t they simply contact him? Or his grandmother? No one knew Colton history better than Gloria, or Great-granddad WhiteBear. But there were plenty of Coltons to confront if someone wanted to know something of their ancestry. Even so, Bram couldn’t make heads or tails of the whole thing, for why would any outsider give a whit about any of the Coltons, none of whom had anything to hide? It was a damn weird mess, Bram decided again, having reached that conclusion quite a few times in the past few weeks.
Then, even through that maze of thoughts, Jenna’s image threatened again, and Bram groaned and sought another subject to dwell on until he fell asleep. Fishing was a good nerve-settling topic, and Bram grasped at it, pondered it for a while and then decided to ask Will if he could go fishing this coming weekend. They had a couple of favorite fishing spots, and Bram never cared if Will took one or more of his sons with them. Maybe they could leave on Saturday and camp out that night. He would check his work schedule at the sheriff’s station in the morning, and if he was free this weekend, he’d give Will a call or stop by his place.
The next day Bram checked the duty roster and saw that he had the weekend off. Feeling good about it, he drove by Will’s house on his way home from work that afternoon. Will’s three boys, nine-year-old Billy, eight-year-old Stevie and six-year-old Hank came running from the backyard yelling, “Bram! Bram! Daddy, Bram’s here!”
Bram grinned. Dressed in cutoff jeans and T-shirts, the trio were barefoot and dirty. Before bed Bram knew that their mother, Ellie, would see to baths and fresh pajamas, but during the day there was no keeping her wildcats clean.
“Didja shoot your gun today, Bram?” Hank asked.
“Not today, Hank.”
“Aw, heck,” the youngster said.
Will had come out of the house and approached the group. “Hi, Bram. How’re tricks?”
Will Mitchell was as fair as Bram was dark. Will had straw-colored hair, pale hazel eyes and skin that never tanned. The two had been friends since high school.
“My tricks are nonexistent,” Bram said dryly. “You’re the man with the tricks…three of them, to be specific.”
Will grinned. “Boys, your mother asked me to tell you to go in and wash up for supper.”
“Aw, heck,” Hank said again. But he raced to the house only a step behind his older brothers, shouting, “Bye, Bram. See ya later.”
“Want to come in and eat with us?” Will asked.
“Thanks, not tonight. I’ve got this weekend off and I was thinking about a fishing trip. With two days, we could go to Ridge Reservoir and camp out overnight. The boys would like that.”
“Hey, they sure would. So would I. Let me talk to Ellie and see if she’s got anything planned for the weekend. I’ll give you a call. Two days at the reservoir would be great, wouldn’t they?”
“Yeah, they would.”
“I wish Ellie liked camping and fishing.” Will paused, then grinned again. “She said to not say a word to anyone until she’s certain, but I don’t think she meant you. Bram, she’s pretty sure she’s pregnant. She says this time it has to be a girl. You know how she longs for a daughter.”
Bram looked at his friend’s excited face and felt the strangest ache in his gut. He covered it with a teasing wisecrack. “You’re just full of tricks, Mitchell.”
“You could be, too. There isn’t a gal in the county who wouldn’t jump at the chance to marry you and you know it.”
“Bull,” Bram exclaimed. “No one’s pining to marry me. Hell, I can’t even get dates for the Saturday night dances at the Grange Hall.”
“You’re so full of it, it’s coming out of your ears, Colton. You don’t have a girlfriend only because you don’t want a girlfriend. You’re afraid she’ll rope and hog-tie you, and you’re scared spitless of commitment and a wedding ring.”
“Will, blow it out your ear.” This was a common conversation for them. Will thought Bram—at thirty-seven years of age—should be married, and when Bram got tired of the subject he ended it with that one directive—“Blow it out your ear.” Will always laughed and that was the end of it…until the next time.
Ellie called from the front door of the house. “Supper’s on the table, hon. Hi, Bram, come on in and eat with us.”
“Thanks, Ellie, but can’t do it tonight. Some other time, okay?”
“Anytime, Bram.”
Will said, “I’ll call as soon as I know about the fishing trip.”
Bram nodded and climbed into his car. “Great. Talk to you then.”
As he drove away he thought about Will and Ellie having another child and Will being so thrilled about it. Bram wanted kids, too, but not with just any woman. And since he couldn’t have the one woman he wanted, he’d probably never have kids.
He muttered a curse, then told himself to cool down. What made him think he needed kids of his own? When his parents were killed in that plane crash in 1987 he’d been twenty-two and had taken over as head of the household. He’d seen to it that his four siblings—Ashe, Jared, Logan and Willow—finished their education and continued to live as good, decent citizens, just as their mother and dad had taught them.
No, he didn’t
