Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch. B.J. Daniels
Dana. She drove him away. The same way you did Hud.”
She wasn’t going to discuss this with him. Especially today. Especially with Hud back. “I have to go, Jordan.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “At least I have someone to warm my bed at night. Can your precious ranch do that?”
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Dana snapped. “Jill will be long gone once you don’t have anything else you can pillage to appease her.”
She knew at once that she’d gone too far. Jordan had never liked to hear the truth.
Dana smacked herself on the forehead, wishing she could take back the angry words. He’d always known how to push her buttons. Isn’t that what siblings were especially adept at because they knew each others’ weaknesses so well?
“Jordan, I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it.
“I’ll have Dad pick me up. But, dear sister, I will deal with you when I see you. And at least buy a damned answering machine.” He slammed down the phone.
She felt dirty, as if she’d been wrestling in the mud as she hung up. She hadn’t wanted the conversation to end like that. It would only make matters worse once he hit town.
She told herself that with luck maybe she wouldn’t have to see him. She wouldn’t have to see any of her siblings. The only one she’d been even a little close to was Clay, the youngest, but she wasn’t even talking to him lately.
And she didn’t want an answering machine. Anyone who needed to reach her, would. Eventually. She could just imagine the kind of messages Jordan would leave her.
She shuddered at the thought. As bad as she felt about the argument and her angry words, she was relieved. At least Jordan wasn’t staying at the ranch, she thought with a rueful smile as she went into the kitchen and poured herself of a glass of wine.
As she did, she heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the road to the house and groaned. Now what?
Glancing out the window she saw the marshal’s black SUV barreling toward her.
This day just kept getting better.
Chapter Four
Across the river and a half mile back up a wide valley, the Cardwell ranch house sat against a backdrop of granite cliffs and towering dark pines. The house was a big, two-story rambling affair with a wide front porch and a new brick-red metal roof.
Behind it stood a huge weathered barn and some outbuildings and corrals. The dark shapes loomed out of the falling snow and darkness as Hud swung the SUV into the ranch yard.
He shut off the engine. Out of habit, he looked up at Dana’s bedroom window. There was nothing but darkness behind the glass but in his mind he could see her waving to him as she’d done so many times years before.
As he got out of the patrol car, ducking deep into his coat against the falling snow, he ran to the porch, half expecting Dana’s mother, Mary Justice Cardwell, to answer the door. Mary had been a ranch woman through and through. No one had ever understood why she’d married Angus Cardwell. He’d been too handsome and charming for his own good, with little ambition and even less regard for ranch work. But he’d also been heir to the C-Bar Ranch adjacent to the Justice Ranch.
When the two had married, so had the ranches. The combined spread became the Cardwell Ranch.
No one had been surprised when the two divorced. Or when Angus gave up the ranch to Mary.
People were just surprised that the two stayed together long enough to have four children.
And Angus and Mary had certainly produced beautiful children.
Jordan, the oldest, was almost too good-looking and had definitely taken after his father. Clay was the youngest, a slim, quiet young man who worked in local theater groups.
Then there was Stacy, two years older than Dana, cheerleader cute. Stacy had cashed in on her looks her whole life, trading up in three marriages so far. He didn’t like to think about Stacy.
There was no comparison between the two sisters. While Dana also had the Justice-Cardwell good looks, she had something more going for her. She’d been the good student, the hard worker, the one who wanted to carry on the family tradition at the ranch, while the others had cut and run the first chance they got.
Dana, like her mother, loved everything about ranching. It and breathing were one and the same to her. That’s why he couldn’t understand why Dana would be selling the place. It scared him.
He couldn’t stand the thought that he’d come back too late. Or worse that he’d been carrying a torch for a woman who no longer existed.
As he started to knock, he heard a dog growl and looked over to see a gray-muzzled, white-and-liver springer spaniel.
“Joe?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. He knelt as the dog lumbered over to him, tail wagging with recognition. “Joe, hey, old boy. I didn’t think you’d still be around.” He petted the dog, happy to see a friendly face from the past.
“Was there something you wanted?”
He hadn’t heard the front door open. Dana stood leaning against the frame, a glass of wine in her hand and a look that said she was in no mood for whatever he was selling.
He wished like hell that he wasn’t going to add to her troubles. “Evening,” he said, tipping his hat as he gave Joe a pat and straightened. “Mind if I come in for a few minutes? I need to talk to you.”
“If this has something to do with you and me…”
“No.” He gave her a rueful smile. There was no “you and me”—not anymore. Not ever again from the look in her brown eyes. “It’s about what we found in the well.”
All the starch seemed to go out of her. She stepped back, motioning him in.
He took off his hat and stepped in to slip off his boots and his jacket before following her through the very Western living area with its stone and wood to the bright, big airy kitchen. Joe followed at his heels.
“Have a seat.”
Hud pulled out a chair at the large worn oak table, put his Stetson on an adjacent chair and sat.
Dana frowned as Joe curled up at his feet. “Traitor,” she mouthed at the dog.
Hud looked around, memories of all the times he’d sat in this kitchen threatening to drown him. Mary Justice Cardwell at the stove making dinner, Dana helping, all of them chatting about the goings-on at the ranch, a new foal, a broken down tractor, cows to be moved. He could almost smell the roast and homemade rolls baking and hear Dana’s laughter, see the secret, knowing looks she’d send him, feel the warmth of being a part of this family.
And Dana would have made her mother’s double chocolate brownies for dessert—especially for him.
Dana set a bottle of wine and a glass in front of him, putting it down a little too hard and snapping him back to the present. “Unless you think we’re both going to need something stronger?” she asked.
“Wine will do.” He poured himself some and topped off her glass as she took a chair across from him. She curled her bare feet under her but not before he noticed that her toenails were painted coral. She wore jeans and an autumn gold sweater that hugged her curves and lit her eyes.
He lifted his glass, but words failed him as he looked at her. The faint scent of her wafted over to him as she took a drink of her wine. She’d always smelled of summer to him, an indefinable scent that filled his heart like helium.
Feeling awkward, he took another drink, his throat tight. He’d known being in this house again would bring it all back. It did. But just being here alone with Dana, not being able to touch her or to say all the things he wanted to say to her, was killing him. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. Hell, clearly