The Lawman's Noelle. Stella Bagwell
to know?”
“Actually, you should know. A few weeks ago, a body was discovered just a few miles from your place. I was following up on some leads regarding that case.”
Her brows lifted slightly. “I read about it in the newspaper. But I didn’t think it was that close—and the article didn’t say anything about it being a homicide.”
“I’m not saying it was a homicide, either. That detail hasn’t been determined yet. But it’s a fact that gangs sometimes meet out in the area not far from your property. To avoid the law coming down on them, we think. Have you ever seen anything suspicious? Especially around the dry gulch where you found me?”
“No. Never. Sometimes when the weather is nice, there might be a few teenagers sitting around smoking and drinking beer. Not far off the county road, on the property next to mine, there’s a rock formation with a cave beneath. The kids use it as a place to hang out.”
Feeling the need to caution her, he said, “Those might not be innocent teenagers, Noelle.”
She turned a hard look on him. “I might’ve known you’d say something like that. A group of kids, cigarettes and beer. That instantly makes them gang members, thieves or murderers, doesn’t it?”
There was more than sarcasm in her voice. There was downright anger. Her reaction made him wonder whether, as a teenager, she’d been targeted by the law. Though the notion hardly seemed likely, it was clear that something had hardened her toward police officers.
“No. I’m only saying it would be wise of you to use caution. A woman alone is—”
“No different than a man alone,” she finished briskly. “Now, do you think you can get to the door under your own steam or do I need to help you?”
In his line of work, Evan was used to dealing with belligerent people. Some reacted out of fear, others out of downright meanness. No matter the reason, he’d been trained to keep his patience and let the barbs and jabs hit the invisible armor he always kept around him. But in Noelle’s case, he found her unfounded resentment hard to take.
“I think I can manage,” he said stiffly, then reached for his wallet. “Let me pay you for bringing me home and tending to my horse. I’d like to believe the rest of your help was a Good Samaritan act.”
“I don’t want your money. And as for being a Good Samaritan, I don’t walk away from wounded animals. Or humans.”
“Fine.” He opened the truck door and climbed out. “Thanks again. Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime. I know that would make you happy.”
“Deliriously so,” she muttered, her eyes focused on the windshield in front of her.
“Goodbye, Noelle.”
She didn’t reply, so he simply shut the door to the truck and started walking toward the house. But halfway there, he glanced over his shoulder at her disappearing taillights and wondered why it even mattered that she hadn’t told him goodbye.
During the long drive home, Noelle cried so hard the flood of tears made it difficult to see the road. She’d always prided herself on being emotionally stable. Not once since she’d moved to Nevada to start a new life had she shed a tear. Not for the death of her beloved aunt and uncle. Nor for the divorce, the break with her parents or even the loss of her brother. None of those things had melted her resolve to stay strong and in control.
So, damn it, why was she crying tonight? Why had a lawman with a lump on the side of his head and a goofy grin on his face turned her into a ball of jumbled emotions?
She was ashamed of herself for many reasons. If she was half the woman she wanted to believe she was, she would turn the truck around, drive back to that big mansion and apologize to the man. But tonight she was discovering she wasn’t nearly as strong as she thought, and that jolted her. Whether he knew it or not, Evan Calhoun was forcing her to look at parts of herself she didn’t want to see. Tonight or ever.
When she finally arrived home, she left her truck and walked straight to the barn. The horses were hanging their heads over the top rail of the corral, waiting impatiently for their supper. Earlier this evening, before she’d driven Evan to the emergency room, she’d turned his paint into the corral with her horses, and so far they weren’t trying to kick or bite each other to death. Which was a relief. If his horse came up lame or injured while under her care, Evan’s family would no doubt hold her responsible.
The fact that she’d asked him about selling the animal stung her cheeks with embarrassment. She’d recognized the horse was from good bloodstock, but she’d never imagined he’d come from a ranch like the Silver Horn. A horse of Lonesome’s quality would carry a hefty price tag. One that would never fit into her budget.
At one time, she could’ve bought dozens of horses like the paint and never made a dent in her bank account. Money had been at her fingertips to buy anything she’d desired. But the cost of living the same sort of lifestyle as her parents had been too high for Noelle. Especially when she’d learned that her father, Neal, had earned a portion of his millions by not-so-honest business practices.
The best decision Noelle had ever made in her life was to turn her back on all that wealth, and the phoniness, and move here to Nevada. Even if it meant she ate canned tuna for dinner instead of beef steak and wore work boots instead of stilettos.
At the barn, she wasted no time pouring grain for the horses and filling their hay manger. The cow she’d penned next to the horses had been recuperating from a respiratory infection. Noelle injected her with a shot of antibiotics, then spread hay for her and the calf.
Once her chores at the barn were finished, she returned to the house and went straight to the bathroom to shower. It wasn’t until she was standing in front of the vanity that she caught sight of her image in the medicine-chest mirror. The reflection shocked her. Her eyes were swollen, and tears had marked tracks down her dusty cheeks.
Disgusted by her unreasonable attitude toward Evan and her emotional breakdown, she pulled a washcloth from the vanity and stepped into the shower. But even after her face was drenched clean from the warm water, she still couldn’t shake the memory of Evan’s wounded expression.
He’d been not only offended by her sharp retorts but also hurt. Why had she said all that to him? Why had she deliberately set out to make him dislike her?
You know why, Noelle. Just when you’d started thinking he might be different, he’d talked about teenagers as if they were all potential criminals. He dug up those painful memories you’ve been trying so hard to bury. You might as well face it now. Evan Calhoun is no different from the officer who shot and killed Andy. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.
Trying to shut out the terrible voice in her head, Noelle finished her shower, then wrapped herself in a heavy robe and walked out to the kitchen to fix something to eat.
Tomorrow would be a new day, she told herself as she shoved a piece of bologna between two pieces of bread. And she was going to do her best to put this one behind her.
* * *
The next morning when Evan opened his eyes, he was shocked to see daylight seeping through the curtains and the digital clock on the nightstand clicking to 7:35.
He was going to be late for work!
He bolted upright in the bed before the ordeal of yesterday had time to creep into his sleep-fogged brain. The sudden movement sent pain crashing from one side of his skull to the other, causing him to grab his head with both hands and curse.
“Oh, hell!”
Evan was still waiting for the ache to subside when a light knock sounded on the door, but he dared not go open it. Instead, he called in a strained voice, “Whoever you are, come in. Just walk softly.”
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