Sheltered By The Cowboy
Sheltered By The Cowboy
Carla Cassidy
A rugged rancher to depend on!A man who keeps his secrets to himself, rancher Brody Booth is used to life being tough. The last thing he expects is for a beautiful woman to come his way and Mandy Wright's as unpredictable as the snowstorm that traps them together.Mandy is independent and trusts no one. When it comes to relationships, she's always the first to walk away. Letting Brody close enough to protect her from a killer feels strange – and thrilling. Having feelings for him is risky. Can she find a way to outrun danger and fall in love?
In New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy’s latest thriller, a loner cowboy meets his match!
A man who keeps his secrets close to his chest, gruff rancher Brody Booth is used to things being complicated. The last thing he expects is for a beautiful woman to be his undoing. But Mandy Wright’s as unpredictable as the snowstorm that traps them together.
Mandy is independent and trusts no one. When it comes to relationships, she’s always the first to walk away. Letting Brody close enough to protect her from a killer feels strange—and thrilling. Having feelings for him is as risky as surrendering to the threat. Can she find a way to outrun danger and fall in love?
“I hope you don’t mind the candles. I always light a couple before I go to sleep.”
“I don’t mind,” he replied. Hell yes, he minded the candles that painted her face in beautiful shadows and light. Hell yes, he minded the candles that made the room feel so much smaller and much more intimate.
He walked over to the sofa and found a bed pillow and a soft, hot-pink blanket. He placed his gun on the coffee table, unfolded the blanket and then stretched out.
“Brody?”
“Yeah?” He answered without opening his eyes.
“Somehow, someway I’ll make this all up to you.”
Visions instantly exploded in his head, erotic visions of the two of them making love. He jerked his head to halt them. “You don’t have to make anything up to me.”
He couldn’t be her friend. She was too much of a temptation and he couldn’t be friends with a woman he wanted. He didn’t want to be friends with anyone.
He’d see her through this threat and then he had to walk away from her and never look back.
* * *
Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting series:
Cowboys of Holiday Ranch—Where sun, earth and hard work turn men into rugged cowboys…and irresistible heroes!
Sheltered by the Cowboy
Carla Cassidy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one hundred and twenty novels for Mills & Boon. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.
Contents
Cover (#u509b2ae7-b46a-5518-8fe2-07e5a573a72e)
Back Cover Text (#uddc19d3b-8a01-59cc-89bb-2328965a56cd)
Introduction (#ue488d12b-be09-590f-9957-24c35ff4305e)
Title Page (#u44ba93c2-2a7d-5ea8-976a-015cb748d978)
About the Author (#u460a2ac0-f8b7-527d-afbf-e629caf99d71)
Chapter 1 (#uaeb5dd59-2d3f-5c92-a004-58900081f146)
Chapter 2 (#u8051a478-d230-538b-906f-ba843274d8b3)
Chapter 3 (#u6c0fe5a6-c680-5c74-9c82-41d54773b914)
Chapter 4 (#u6416b825-b5af-55de-804f-b0397a3777cc)
Chapter 5 (#uae352d21-9c1f-5c37-8a8c-1235a20eaddd)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
Amanda Wright hummed the tune of “Let It Snow” under her breath as she stamped her feet in an effort to get warm.
The short red Mrs. Santa costume she wore with the white faux fur around the bottom, the neckline and at the cuffs looked cute but did little to provide any real warmth. Wearing flesh-colored tights was almost like being bare-legged, and the short black leather boots on her feet were fashion-forward, but definitely not keeping her toes warm.
She could always step into the small wooden booth’s tiny back room, where an oil heater spewed out a bit of warmth, but it was almost time for her to pack it in for the day and she didn’t want to miss her last chance to help make a difference.
Darkness had fallen an hour before, and yet the streets of Bitterroot were aglow with the merry lights of the Christmas season. Illuminated red-and-white candy canes hung from every light pole and shoppers still scurried along the sidewalks, trying to get in last-minute supplies before a predicted big snowstorm struck.
Mandy loved this time of year, when the air smelled of evergreen wreaths and cinnamon sticks, and Christmas carols spilled out of every store doorway. Even though the holiday was still a little over two weeks away, Bitterroot was already in the spirit.
She smiled as she saw Butch Cooper approaching the booth. She had dated Butch for about a month and had only recently broken up with him. Thankfully, despite the breakup they had remained good friends.
“Buy a kiss for a dollar,” she said. “All proceeds go to the youth program.”
Butch pulled his wallet out of his pocket and withdrew a five-dollar bill. “I’ll just donate this to the cause,” he said and handed her the money.
“Thanks, Butch,” she replied. He was such a nice guy, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize he wasn’t the Prince Charming she was waiting for. Although she’d enjoyed his company, there just hadn’t been any real romantic spark with him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m getting by. What about you?”
“The same. I’m keeping busy between the café and this booth,” she replied.
“You’d better think about getting yourself home soon,” he said. “There’s freezing rain moving in and then it’s supposed to snow like the devil.”
“I’m planning on packing it up in just a little while. I’m hoping to make a little more money before I close down for the night.”
“Just don’t wait too long. You know Seth wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk for a couple more dollars.”
“I know. Thanks, Butch.” She watched as the tall, nice-looking cowboy walked away. She released a deep sigh, her breath coming out in a big, frosty puff.
The old saying was that you had to kiss a lot of toads before finally finding a prince. She’d dated most of the single men in town but had yet to find that special toad.
When Seth Richardson had asked her to donate her spare time in a kissing booth for charity, she’d instantly agreed. She knew how important the youth program was in town. She only wished there had been some kind of a youth program when she’d been growing up.
For the past couple of days, when she wasn’t working as a waitress at the café, she’d been in this booth. There were two other young women who worked the booth, as well. At least the red-and-white-painted booth was located between the feed store and the mercantile, which meant it got a fair amount of foot traffic.
She stamped her feet once again and mentally cursed the cold. Yes, she loved this time of year and she especially loved to watch it snow, but at the moment, with her fingers and toes half-frozen, she wished it was seventy degrees.
Thoughts of the cold faded away as she saw another handsome cowboy approaching her. The Christmas lights on the buildings flickered and highlighted his strong, bold features in shades of green and red. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders, and wore his black cowboy hat pulled down as if to warn people away.
Brody Booth.
Just seeing him warmed her a little bit even though they’d scarcely ever exchanged more than a handful of words. He was definitely one sexy cowboy.
“Hey, Brody. How about a kiss for a dollar?” she called out to him. “It’s for charity.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “No, thanks, Mandy. I kind of like being the only man in town you haven’t kissed.” He turned and continued on his way.
She stared after him in stunned surprise. “You’re a jerk, Brody Booth,” she called.
His words stung with their implication. She knew her reputation in town was for being fast and loose, a reputation that had begun in high school and had haunted her ever since. Of course, she hadn’t helped matters by kissing so many toads.
Brody was one of the best-looking jerks she’d ever seen, but she told herself now that she didn’t give two hoots about what he thought of her.
What she’d better start thinking about was getting home. The ping of sleet against the wooden booth was a definite warning that it was time to get out of Dodge.
She closed the awning, stepped into the back space and turned off the heater and the battery-operated light that cast a dim glow. Her coat hung on a small hook next to the back door, and she quickly pulled it on. Then she shoved the small metal money box into her purse, locked up for the night and left the booth.
The sleet stung her face as she hurried to her car. The icy mixture was piling up fast. She probably should have left half an hour before.
The scent of snow whirled on the wind that had picked up, and she was suddenly aware that the streets were virtually deserted.
She hurried to her car and got inside, rubbing her hands together as she waited for the heater to blow hot air. Ice already glazed her windshield, making it impossible for her to see out and drive. Hopefully, between the wipers and the defrost, she could get it cleared off as soon as possible.
Still, by the time she finally crept out of her parking space, the sleet had turned to snow. It wasn’t a fluffy, pretty event. Rather, the snowflakes were small and icy and wind-driven.
Visibility was almost nonexistent and the back tires slid each time she tried to accelerate. She was going to be far later getting home than she’d told her father.
Although she lived in a small apartment above the detached garage on the property, when she could she cooked and cleaned for her father.
Of course, he had probably prepared for the snowstorm by buying plenty of liquor. If she was lucky he’d already be passed out by the time she got home. At least she’d thought ahead and had brought home a meatloaf dinner from the café. It sat on the passenger seat in a foam container inside a white bag. When she did get home, if her dad was waiting for her she could have his dinner ready in mere microwave magic minutes.
At the moment his meal wasn’t her concern. Just getting home in this mess was her main issue. The snowflakes were now bigger, but coming down at an alarming pace. Her muscles tensed as she hunched over the steering wheel and squinted to see the road ahead.
She hadn’t even made it out of town when she felt the disheartening slide of her tires against the pavement. The car was moving sideways. Frantically she turned the wheel first left and then right to straighten out. In horror she realized she was no longer in control.
She knew better than to apply the brakes, but she was sliding on pure ice and headed for a ditch. Her heart hitched in her chest and she braced.
She squealed as the car hit the ditch and came to a dead stop. She tried to move forward and the tires spun impotently. She threw it into Reverse with the same results.
“Darn, darn!” She hit the steering wheel with her palms. She was good and stuck.
She’d have to call for a tow. She unfastened her seat belt and pulled her purse onto her lap, rummaging around inside it until she grabbed her cell phone.
Before she could dial a number, she glanced in her rearview mirror and gasped in renewed horror. Twin headlights were careening toward the back of her car, and she couldn’t move out of the way. Objects in this mirror are closer than they appear. She read the words on her passenger mirror just before she squeezed her eyes tightly closed.
Bracing once again, she expected a crash, but it was more like a hard bump. The pickup truck hit her hard enough to throw the meatloaf dinner off the passenger seat and onto the floor, but thankfully not hard enough to injure her.
She looked in her rearview mirror once again and saw Brody getting out of the truck that had hit her. Great, just what she needed to make a bad situation even worse.
She rolled down her window and heard his muttered curses as he made his way to her driver side. “Sorry,” he said. “That patch of road is pure ice. Are you okay?”
“Tell me about it. I didn’t exactly drive into this ditch on purpose,” she replied drily. “And I’m fine, but frustrated.”
“It looks like I’m going to owe you a bumper.”
“Right now I’m not worried about a bumper. What I need is a tow out of this ditch.”
“That makes two of us. Mind if I get in?” He gestured to the passenger seat.
“Knock yourself out,” she replied. She rolled up her window as he left the driver side and walked around the front of the car to get into the passenger seat.
“What’s this?” he asked as he maneuvered his feet so he didn’t step on the bag on the floor. Once he was in, he moved the seat back to accommodate the length of his legs.
“Oh yeah, you owe me a bumper and a meatloaf special from the café,” she replied.
He filled the small interior of the car with the scent of the outdoors mingling with a woodsy cologne. Snow clung to his slightly shaggy dark hair and sinfully long dark eyelashes. He also wore the same frown she always saw on his face.
“I’ll call for a tow truck and we’ll worry about the bumper and meatloaf dinner later. The snow is really starting to pile up.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a series of numbers.
“Larry, it’s Brody Booth. Amanda Wright and I are stuck in a ditch just past the turnoff to the motel. We need a tow.”
It was obvious by his deepening frown that he wasn’t happy with whatever he was hearing, and a ball of anxiety unfurled in her chest.
“Okay, I understand. Yeah, I’ll be waiting for your call.” He hung up and pocketed his phone. “Larry and every other tow person in town is busy working the highway, which he said looks like a skating rink, so basically we’re on our own.”
“On our own?” She echoed his words as she stared at him in horror. “For how long?”
“It might be morning before somebody can finally get to us.”
“Morning? We can’t stay out here all night. I don’t even have a blanket in the car,” she said.
“You’re right. We can’t,” he agreed. “I suggest we walk to the motel. We can get rooms for the night and be out here first thing in the morning when help finally comes.”
She stared over her shoulder, where the motel sign blinked faintly like a red heartbeat through the haze of the falling snow. The snow. A shiver swept over her. It was deep enough now that it would swallow her little boots with the first step.
“Do you have some pants you can put on?” Brody asked. Was there a slight hint of disdain in his voice or was she only imagining it?
“Nope, just these sexy flesh-tone tights,” she replied flippantly. “Don’t worry about me, Brody. I’m used to taking care of myself.” She buttoned up her coat and mentally prepared for the cold trek to the motel.
“Wait for me. I need to lock up my truck.” He left the car and a gust of frigid air blew in.
She should have left the booth earlier. She should have been smart enough to keep a survival bag with blankets and bottled water and protein bars in the car. Sometimes she could be so stupid.
It didn’t take long for Brody to come back. He pulled open the driver’s door, and precariously she stepped out of the car. The icy wind instantly stole her breath, and she slid unsteadily with her first step.
He must have noticed because he grabbed her firmly by the upper arm, and together they made their way out of the ditch and back to the road.
It was impossible to speak with the howling wind in her ears and the driving snow hitting her in the face. She was just grateful for Brody’s strength as she slipped more than once and would have landed on her face or her butt if he hadn’t steadied her.
She was an icicle, frozen from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. All she could think about was a nice warm room, a very hot shower and then a bed to snuggle down in to wait out the storm.
She might have sobbed in relief when they reached the motel office but she was too frozen to cry. Brody immediately released his hold on her as he greeted Fred Ferguson, the owner of the motel.
“Heck of a night,” Fred said, his gaze behind his dark-rimmed glasses drifting from Brody to Mandy.
“The road is definitely treacherous tonight,” Brody replied.
“So are you both stuck?”
“Yeah, we’re both in a ditch down the road. We each need a room for the night,” Brody replied.
“That’s going to be a problem,” Fred replied.
Every frozen muscle in her body tensed. What now? “A p-p-problem?” she managed to stutter through her chattering teeth.
Fred nodded. “I’ve only got one room left.”
Brody visibly stiffened. “Only one?”
A wave of dread swept through Mandy. Apparently she would be spending the night with a man who didn’t like her and definitely didn’t respect her. Could this night get any worse?
“A double?” Brody asked hopefully.
“Nope, it’s a single with a queen bed.”
The night just got worse. She watched, dumbfounded, as Brody slowly pulled his wallet out of his pocket and released a deep, audible sigh. “I guess we’ll take it.”
* * *
Brody had had a long, rough day and the idea of being locked in a motel room with the voluptuous, beautiful Mandy Wright was a candle on the top of a crap cake.
He grabbed the key Fred placed on the counter and then headed out the door with Mandy trailing just behind him. There was no way he was going to crawl into bed with her tonight. Hopefully there would be a comfy chair in the room where he could sprawl until morning.
He had a feeling if he found himself under the sheets with Mandy, something would happen and they would wind up having sex, and he refused to be another cowboy she’d bedded and then tossed aside.
At room four he unlocked the door and opened it, reached inside to turn on the overhead light and then stepped aside so she could go in before him. She walked into the center of the room and turned to face him.
Her full lips were blue and her dark hair hung in wet strands around her shoulders. She shivered uncontrollably, and he shut the door more forcefully than he intended. “Go get in a hot shower,” he commanded. “You’re soaking wet.”
“But... I... I don’t have anything else to put on,” she replied, her lips barely moving.
Brody frowned, then walked over to the bed and yanked off the blue-and-gray spread. “Use this to wrap up in until your clothes can dry.” He thrust it into her arms.
As she turned and disappeared into the bathroom, he released another deep sigh. He shrugged out of his own coat and then turned up the heat in the room.
The room was one of the smaller ones the motel had to offer, and the chair, which he’d hoped would be big and comfortable enough for a night’s sleep, wasn’t. It was a spindly straight-backed chair in front of the window that would assure no sleep at all for the night.
He held his hands over the heat that had begun to blow from a vent. He could still smell her, a scent of brown sugar and vanilla that was intensely appealing.
At the sound of the shower running, he tried hard not to visualize a naked Mandy. Far too often in the past he’d fantasized about a naked Mandy. Jeez, this was going to be tough.
A glance out the window showed him that the snow was still coming down. The snow wasn’t so bad, but the icy mixture that had preceded it would have the whole town at a standstill.
He sat down on the edge of the chair and pulled off his boots. The bottoms of his jeans legs were wet, but there was no way in hell he intended to strip down. It was bad enough that Mandy was going to wear only a bedspread when she got out of the bathroom. A wave of warmth swept through him at the very thought.
Of all the women in town he could have been snowbound with, why did it have to be the one woman he was attracted to? A woman who, rumor had it, ate men for breakfast and spit them out by dinner? Not that he would care. He didn’t ever want a relationship with a woman.
At least she hadn’t moaned and groaned on the miserable trek to the motel. She’d soldiered up, lowered her head and had done what needed to be done without a single complaint, although she had to have been miserable.
He looked at his watch. It was just six thirty. What were they going to do to pass the rest of the evening? His stomach growled and he almost wished he’d picked up that meatloaf dinner from the floorboard and brought it to the room. He’d not only skipped dinner but also missed lunch. He wondered if she’d eaten dinner.
Maybe he’d check out the motel vending machines and see if he could grab something there. With that thought in mind he pulled his boots on once again.
A vision of Mandy clad in a red, white and blue sparkly bra exploded in his mind. It wasn’t just a fantasy. It was what she’d worn at the Holiday Ranch barn dance the month before. She’d been a sizzling sight as she’d danced and laughed and stirred something inside him that had been dormant for years...desire.
It had been a costume party and she’d come as a patriot, and since that night he’d had a hard time getting her out of his head.
As the sound of the shower stopped, his entire body tensed with an uncharacteristic anxiety. He quickly moved back to the chair and picked up the television remote from the table. She’d be coming out of the bathroom at any minute. At least the television would provide a welcome distraction from her. He punched the on button and stared at the message that danced across the screen.
No Signal Detected.
The bathroom door opened and she walked out, a vision wrapped in a bedspread.
This was definitely going to be a long night.
Chapter 2 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
The hot shower had been heavenly. Of course, she would have liked to have her own shower gel and a hair dryer and all the comforts of home, but she’d been grateful that her purse had contained a hair brush, lip gloss and a little bottle of her favorite body spray.
She wrapped the spread around her like an oversized towel, leaving her shoulders bare, but hiding anything that shouldn’t be shown.
Of all the men in the town, why did she have to be stuck here with Brody? The other women at the café called him the brooding one. He might be hot and handsome, but he didn’t seem to possess a glimmer of a sense of humor or even the ability to smile...at least, not at her.
Still, she’d been oddly attracted to him for a long time, despite his stern countenance and the fact that she felt like he somehow judged her and found her lacking.
Her heart beat just a little more quickly than usual when she walked out of the bathroom. He looked at her, and for just a moment, as his gaze slowly swept up and down her, she felt completely naked.
“The television isn’t working,” he said and stood, his gaze shifting to some point over her right shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get hungry before this night is over. I’ll check out the vending machines. Do you want something?”
“Whatever you can get. I haven’t eaten since just before noon,” she replied.
He pulled on his coat and flew out the door as if the very devil himself was chasing him. Mandy drew a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. This whole situation was definitely awkward and would probably only get more so as the night wore on.
She jumped up, went into the bathroom, grabbed her wet Santa costume and carried it into the main room. She draped it and her wet tights over one of the heater vents.
Maybe she and Brody both could relax better once her clothes were dry and she was dressed again. They just had to make the best of things for the night.
Instead of sitting on the edge of the mattress, she plumped up the pillows on what she decided was going to be her side and then stretched out.
She considered calling her father to tell him she was stuck for the night, but then decided against it. The last thing she needed right now was for him to tell her she was stupid and a huge disappointment to him. She’d heard that song from him enough times to last the rest of her life.
Besides, when she didn’t make it home, surely he would realize she might be stuck somewhere. The last thing George Wright would ever think to do was worry about his only daughter.
She tensed as Brody came back into the room, his shoulders and hair once again snow-covered. “I got one of everything the vending machine offered. I figured we can each pick what we want.” He set two sodas on the dresser and then began pulling goodies out of his coat pockets. “I hope you like cola.”
“Cola is fine...thanks,” she replied.
By the time they finished picking at the snacks, Mandy had scored a chocolate cupcake, a bag of corn chips, roasted peanuts and a cherry pie. She placed all the goodies and one of the sodas on the nightstand next to her and then patted the other side of the bed.
“You might as well get comfortable and relax, Brody,” she said. “It’s going to be a long night.”
He scowled and placed his snacks on the other nightstand. He then shrugged off his coat, pulled off his boots and stretched out next to her on the very edge of the bed.
“If you take a deep breath you’re going to fall right off the side,” she said.
“I’m fine,” he replied curtly.
She propped herself up on one elbow to face him. “Are you going to be in a bad mood the whole night?”
He looked at her in surprise. “What makes you think I’m in a bad mood?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Since you scowl all the time, it’s hard to tell when you’re in a good mood.” She consciously ignored the crazy warmth that swept through her at his nearness. His body heat radiated toward her and the scent of him was so pleasant.
“I’ve just been thinking about all the things I should be doing around the ranch. I’m acting as foreman right now and I should be there.” He leaned over and grabbed a package of potato chips off his nightstand.
Mandy knew Brody worked on the Holiday Ranch, and the local gossipmongers had been buzzing about everything that had taken place there over the past month.
“I still can’t believe Adam Benson killed all those people,” she said. “He seemed like such a nice guy...always with a pleasant smile,” she said pointedly.
Seven unsolved murders had taken place on the Holiday Ranch fifteen years ago and Chief of Police Dillon Bowie had been determined to solve the crime. It wasn’t until ranch foreman Adam tried to kill ranch owner Cassie Peterson that Dillon was finally able to solve the crimes and make sure Adam would never hurt anyone again. Adam had been killed when Dillon saved Cassie. Since then, Dillon had moved in with Cassie, and there was talk about a wedding in the near future.
“All of us were surprised. None of us had any clue how dangerous and sick Adam was.” He ripped open the bag of chips and offered it to her.
“So, you’re now the new foreman there.” She plucked out a chip and popped it into her mouth. It was vaguely irritating to her that he hadn’t really looked at her since he’d returned to the room with the goodies.
“Temporarily,” he replied. “Cassie offered me the position, and I took it for now with the understanding that I might not be the best man for the job.”
“Other than your obvious lack of people skills, why wouldn’t you be the best man for the job?”
“I do fine with most people,” he replied with a touch of irritation.
“So then it’s just me you don’t want to be nice to.”
He finally really looked at her, his dark brown eyes perfectly matching the brown in his plaid flannel shirt. Dear heaven, the man was so hot. His broad shoulders filled his side of the bed and his jeans fit tight on his slim hips, flat abdomen and long legs.
“Mandy, I don’t really know you.”
“Then tonight is a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better. Maybe we could even walk out of here in the morning as friends. I could always use a new friend. I don’t have many.”
“And why is that?” He gazed at her curiously.
Warmth swept into her cheeks. “I’m sure you know why most women don’t like me. With my reputation, I wouldn’t like me, either.” There, she’d mentioned the elephant in the room.
“Your reputation?”
She released a small, slightly bitter laugh. “Don’t play dumb with me, Brody Booth. I know what people say about me behind my back, that I’m fast and loose and wild, but you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
“I’m just wondering how Butch Cooper is going to feel in the morning when word gets out that we spent the night together.” He returned his gaze to some point just over her shoulder.
“Butch is old news. We broke up soon after Cassie’s barn dance. I’m not seeing anyone right now. What about you? Is somebody going to be upset with you about tonight?” She’d never heard anything about his personal life.
“I don’t have anyone in my life and I don’t want anyone.”
“And why is that?” she asked curiously. “Don’t you want to get married and eventually have kids?”
“Nope.”
“Are you gay?”
He released a small laugh. “Nope.”
For a moment she couldn’t remember what they’d just been talking about. All she could think of was that low, slightly husky and very sexy sound that had escaped him. She turned and grabbed her corn chips off the nightstand and then faced him once again.
“Why do you date so many men?” he asked.
She looked at him in surprise. “I’m twenty-nine years old, I’m single and I’m looking for the toad who will become my Prince Charming. So far, they’ve all just been common toads.”
“Maybe your standards are too high,” he replied. Once again he wasn’t looking at her but rather peering someplace over her head.
“Probably,” she agreed easily. “But why would I lower my standards as to who I want to spend the rest of my life with? I want a man who loves me desperately, somebody who will always have my back no matter what. I’ve never, ever had anyone like that in my entire life.”
“What about your family?”
She masked that particular pain with a small laugh. “My mother died when I was ten. A month after her death, my older brother ran away and never came back. My father pretty much hates my existence and only keeps me around so I can cook and clean for him.”
Afraid that she had sounded too harsh about her father, she continued, “Dad hurt his back nine years ago and had to go on disability, and he never got over my mother’s death. He needs my help and I’m glad to do it. All I want is to be good enough that he’ll be proud of me and love me.”
Jeez, what was she doing baring her soul to him? She really didn’t know him at all. She grabbed a chip from her bag, not wanting to think about how alone she’d felt for most of her life.
“You never heard from your brother again?” he asked.
She shook her head. “When Graham left he never looked back. I think maybe it helped break my father’s heart even more and that’s what made him so hard and bitter. So, what about you? What’s your family story?” She didn’t want to think about her brother or her father anymore. It hurt too much.
He stared up at the ceiling, as if contemplating whether to share anything with her or not. “You’ve probably heard that all of us cowboys at the Holiday Ranch were throwaway kids. Cass Holiday took us in when we were all in our early teens.”
“Everyone in town has heard the story,” she replied.
“I was fourteen when my father threw me out of the house because he caught me smoking a cigarette. It was almost a relief to be forced to leave. Like you, I lost my mama when I was young. My father was a brutal man with an uncontrollable rage inside him and that rage was usually focused on me.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I was fairly lucky. I’d only been out on the streets about a month when Francine Rogers, a social worker who was friends with Cass, offered me the chance to work on a ranch and brought me to Cass.”
“I didn’t know Cass well before she died, although I’ve heard all kinds of wild stories about her.”
His lips curled up in a beautiful smile that stole her breath away. “She was quite a character...tough as nails, yet she made all of us feel valued and wanted. Most of us probably would have died on the streets if not for her.”
“It’s so nice she gave you all a second chance.”
“She gave us hope and while we were all a little worried when Cassie, her niece, took over, everything has been different, but fine.”
Mandy released a small sigh. “I’m hoping someday I can get to a really good place with my father.”
Brody’s smile disappeared. “And what if that doesn’t happen?” he asked.
“Then I’ll just have to be content with the knowledge that I did everything I could for him,” she said with more assurance than she felt. “See?” she added with a wide grin. “We’re getting along just fine. We have a lot in common.”
He quirked a dark eyebrow upward. “Bad childhoods don’t necessarily make us good friend material.”
She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her, but she wanted him to come away from this night seeing her as so much more than her crummy reputation.
“Do you like pizza?” she asked.
“Who doesn’t?” he replied easily.
“What about Mexican food?”
“There isn’t much I don’t like to eat,” he said.
“That’s great. You like to eat and I love to cook. That’s something else that makes us potential friend material.”
For the next couple of hours they talked about all kinds of topics. They both enjoyed country and western music and disliked hard rock. Autumn was her favorite season and he liked spring the best. The more time that passed with light conversation, the more they relaxed with each other.
She told him about her dream to someday open a little restaurant of her own, and he talked about his life and work on the ranch. But she knew her attraction to him would go nowhere. He didn’t seem to be drawn to her in that way at all.
They had just finished eating all their goodies when the conversation returned to her reputation.
“You didn’t go to Bitterroot High School,” she said.
“No, Cass decided it was best to homeschool all of us.”
“You were lucky. It was a seething pool of gossip and drama, and that’s when my bad reputation started. I was dating Richard Herridge when we were both juniors. He was on the football team and real popular.”
“He works on the Humes ranch now,” Brody said, his scowl back.
“He’s just another creep like all the rest of the men who work for Humes,” she replied. The Holiday Ranch hands and the Humes men didn’t get along. The entire town knew about the ongoing feud between the neighboring ranches.
“Anyway, we’d been dating for about a month and he started pressuring me to have sex with him. I finally said it wasn’t going to happen and I broke up with him. The next morning everyone at school was talking about how I had sex with him, and then he broke up with me because he’d gotten what he wanted. And that’s when it all began.”
She couldn’t begin to speak of the depth of the anguish that had chased her through the last of her high school years. Girls scorned her and lots of the boys dated her and then lied about having sex with her.
Even now there were women who were reluctant to have anything to do with her, but her dance card was always filled. She’d never figured out a way to change people’s perception of her, and she’d finally stopped trying long ago.
“You haven’t exactly gone out of your way to try to change people’s view of you,” Brody said.
“What’s the point? People expect provocative behavior from me and so that’s what I give them. I’m kind of like a cow that has been branded, and once that brand is done there’s no way to get rid of it.”
She shrugged and then grabbed at the bedspread before it could slip downward. “Every town needs a bad girl and I guess I play that role in Bitterroot.”
He gazed at her for a long moment and then released a deep sigh. “It’s getting late. I suggest we both get some sleep. Hopefully the tow trucks will be out here early in the morning.”
“My clothes should be dry by now.” She got up from the bed, careful to keep the bedspread in place, and grabbed her clothing from the heater vent. “I’ll be right back.”
It took her only minutes in the bathroom to redress in the now warm and dry Santa costume. When she returned to the room, together they put the bedspread back on. Then he turned out the light and they got into bed. She snuggled under the covers and he remained on top.
Even in the dark she was acutely aware of him so close to her, close enough that she could swear she heard the steady beat of his heart. It was slightly thrilling even though she knew it shouldn’t be so.
“Brody?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being so nice to me tonight.”
“Go to sleep, Mandy.”
“Okay.” She turned over and tried not to think about how much she wished that he would pull her into his arms, hold her for just a little while against his broad chest until she drifted off to happy dreams.
But if they walked out of here tomorrow morning and could be real friends, she’d be happy with that...because she suspected she’d have to be.
* * *
Something tickled at his nose. Something...fuzzy. No...furry. Brody opened his eyes to early morning light seeping in around the edges of the blue draperies at the window. Mandy’s fur collar was right under his nose and he was spooned around the back of her as if he belonged there.
Move, a small inner voice urged him, but he ignored it. For just a brief moment he remained perfectly still, enjoying the sensation of a warm, shapely female in his arms. It was a rare moment for him as it had been a very long time since he’d been in a position to hold a woman.
Amanda Wright was nothing like he had expected her to be. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but she’d been far more likeable and with a soft vulnerability that had surprised him. She was more like a beautiful playful puppy dog than a femme fatale.
Was her reputation overblown? Possibly. It was easy to be labeled in a small town, although she’d admitted she could be provocative in keeping with her role as the bad girl.
It had been obvious she loved her father and longed for a better relationship with him. A tight ball of tension filled his chest as he thought of his own father.
It had been Cass who had tried to make him understand that his father’s brutality and inability to love was his fault and not Brody’s. Still, Brody knew himself to be dangerous damaged goods, and that was why he would never marry or have children. He was a bad risk for any woman.
A distant growl of a snowblower replaced the silence of the room. He quickly rolled away from Mandy and stood, grateful that she didn’t awaken.
The last thing he wanted her to know was that in sleep he had cuddled with her. It had been bad enough last night when they’d talked and he’d tried so hard to keep his gaze away from her creamy naked shoulders and the spill of her long, dark, slightly wavy hair. He’d been on a slow burn for most of the night.
He raked a hand through his hair and walked over to the window. Moving one of the heavy blue curtains aside just a bit, he peered out.
The sun shone bright on the snow that had fallen the night before. There was less snow than he’d anticipated. Still, the ground was covered by about three to four inches of the white stuff.
Fred Ferguson manned the snowblower and was in the process of clearing off the walkways. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before Larry Jerrod called to say his team was on their way to pull Mandy and him out of the ditch.
In the meantime there was a coffee machine next to the sink and he definitely needed a jolt of caffeine to clear his head. Within minutes the scent of the fresh brew filled the room.
He’d just poured himself a cup and sat in the spindly chair near the window when Mandy stirred. She stretched like a contented kitten and then offered him a sleepy smile. “We survived,” she said, her voice slightly husky.
“We did,” he agreed. He stood and opened the curtains, hoping to get her out of the bed. She was far too much of a temptation in the bed, wearing that damned Santa costume that showcased her full breasts, small waist and long, shapely legs.
He heard the rustle of the sheets, and when he turned back around she was up and at the sink, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Hell, she was a temptation out of bed, as well.
She walked over and joined him at the window. “It looks a lot better out there this morning than it did last night.”
“I’m hoping it won’t be long before we can get on our way.”
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the ranch. Thank goodness today is my day off at the café so all I have to do is get home.” A tiny frown danced across her forehead. “I guess I should probably call my dad.”
She set her cup down, went over to the nightstand and dug in her purse. She retrieved her cell phone and then sat on the edge of the bed and punched in numbers. She turned slightly to face away from him. “Dad, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m waiting for a tow. I slid into a ditch last night and had to stay at the motel.”
Brody wasn’t trying to listen in, but although he couldn’t make out her father’s specific words, he certainly heard the loud, rough tone.
“Yeah, Dad, I know it was stupid of me to wind up in a ditch and I’m sorry you had to make your own dinner last night. I’ll make it all up to you when I get home. I’ll fix you a terrific breakfast.”
Apparently her father hung up on her. She dropped her phone back into the depths of her purse and then turned and gave Brody a sheepish smile. “He isn’t much of a morning person.”
Brody had a feeling George Wright wasn’t much of a noon or night person, either. From what little gossip he’d heard about George, the man was a drunk who had more enemies than he had friends.
“What are you planning to make for breakfast?” he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Her thick-lashed, caramel-colored eyes took on a sparkle and her lips curved into a smile. “I make this great peach French toast casserole with pecans and lots of cream and spices.”
“Hmm, sounds good.”
“Want to come over for breakfast?” she asked eagerly. “You know, just as a friend.”
Brody cast his gaze back out the window. “I don’t think this morning would be a good time.”
“Well, of course it wouldn’t,” she replied agreeably. “I can be such a dunce sometimes.”
At that moment Brody’s phone rang. It was Larry telling him that he’d be at their cars within fifteen minutes. When the brief call ended they both abandoned their coffee cups for their coats and then stepped outside for the trek to their vehicles.
“Whew, it’s still cold out here,” Mandy said and pulled her coat collar up closer around her neck.
“Wait here,” Brody told her. “I’ll be right back.” Before they left here there was one thing he wanted to do. He approached Fred Ferguson, who cut the engine on the snowblower.
“You taking off?” he asked.
“We are,” Brody replied. “I just wanted to tell you that if I hear any gossip about Mandy and me spending the night together I’ll hold you personally responsible.”
“You know I’m not a gossip,” Fred blustered, his eyes wide behind his dark-rimmed glasses.
Brody knew no such thing. In fact, Fred loved to indulge himself in juicy gossip. “I’m just giving you a heads-up.” As he returned to Mandy, the snowblower roared back to life. The last thing he wanted was for the night to further stain Mandy’s reputation.
“Ready?” he asked Mandy when he reached her.
“Ready,” she replied.
The ground was still slippery and Mandy’s little boots were about as useful as a pig in a poker game. He took her by the arm and she leaned into him as they trudged forward.
When they finally reached her car, he released his hold on her. She peered up at him. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
“Right,” he agreed easily.
“Thank you, Brody.”
“For what?”
Those winsome eyes of hers gazed at him intently. “Thank you for being nice to me and for being such a gentleman.”
Thank God she hadn’t been privy to his lustful thoughts throughout their time together. “It was no problem,” he replied easily.
Once again her eyes sparkled with liveliness. “Hey, maybe we should exchange phone numbers. It would be nice to be able to talk to each other occasionally.”
He couldn’t very well say no to her, not with her lips curved into such a wide smile, not with her eyes gleaming so brightly. It took only a minute for them to put their numbers into each other’s cell phones, and then he encouraged her to get into her car and warm it up.
He climbed into his truck and looked down at her number in his phone. Would he ever call her? It was doubtful. She was a temptation he definitely didn’t need in his life.
He was just grateful their night together was over and he could get back to his solitary life, where he could work hard and sleep without dreams.
Since Cass had died in the spring storm, there was really only one woman he now believed in, and he saw her about once a week. He trusted her with the secret that had haunted him for years, and she was the only woman he’d ever allow to have a place in his life.
Chapter 3 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
“Hey, handsome,” Mandy greeted Sawyer Quincy with a smile. The copper-haired cowboy was from the Holiday Ranch. “What are you doing in here for lunch all by yourself?”
He swept off his brown cowboy hat and placed it on his lap. “I came in to pick up some supplies and got a hankering for some of Daisy’s chicken noodle soup,” he replied. “How are you doing, Mandy?”
“Good, especially since some of the snow has finally melted. I’m getting off early today and I’m planning on spending the whole evening drifting from store to store and doing some Christmas shopping.”
“That sounds like fun for you,” he replied.
“How about a couple of thick slices of Daisy’s homemade bread with butter to go along with that soup?” she asked.
“That sounds great...and a cup of coffee.”
“Got it,” Mandy wrote on the order pad and then turned to head to the kitchen pass to turn in the ticket.
It had been three days since the overnight snowstorm, and during those days the temperatures had crept above freezing and the sun had shone, making muddy soup out of the snow and ice.
The café was busy. It was as if everyone in Bitterroot had decided it was time to get out of their house to have lunch.
She placed the ticket, poured Sawyer his coffee and then turned in time to see Fred Ferguson being seated at one of her tables. He offered her a small scowl as she approached the table.
“Afternoon, Fred,” she greeted him brightly. “What can I start you off with to drink?”
“Before I order anything, I just want to say I didn’t appreciate your boyfriend threatening me the other morning.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Brody? He isn’t my boyfriend, and what did he threaten you about?”
“He told me if he heard any idle gossip about you and him being in that room together for the night he’d consider me personally responsible. I don’t gossip about what goes on in my motel and I definitely don’t need a big, burly cowboy trying to intimidate me. Now, I’d like to start off with a cup of coffee and then I’ll take the special of the day.”
“Got it,” Mandy replied. She left the table with her thoughts whirling. Why had Brody talked to Fred about keeping their night together a secret?
Had he been trying to somehow protect her reputation? That was almost laughable. Maybe he’d been attempting to protect his own.
This thought hurt more than a little bit, especially considering the fact that the night before she’d called him just to chat for a few minutes and they’d wound up talking for almost half an hour.
It had been nice to have the sound of his deep voice still ringing in her head when she’d finally drifted off to sleep. She now shoved thoughts of Brody away as she hurried to deliver food and take more orders.
She’d worked as a bank clerk until just after Cassie’s barn party. She suspected she’d been let go because she’d worn a red, white and blue sparkly bra to the party. It had been a costume party and she’d gone as a patriot superheroine. The president of the bank, Margery Martin, had not found it amusing.
Mandy’s termination had wound up being a godsend. She belonged working with food. Right now she just delivered it up, but she was hoping she could work her way up to Daisy allowing her to be in the kitchen and then one day owning her own place.
She put every tip in jelly jars under her bed and hoped eventually to have enough to start her own restaurant. What she envisioned wouldn’t compete with Daisy’s café. She’d like to open another café, but knew the competition with Daisy wouldn’t be good. She might decide to open a restaurant that offered more of a fine dining experience.
A dream. That was all it was right now, along with her dream of eventually finding her prince. In the meantime there were orders to be taken and diners to be served.
It was just after six when she went into the back room and took off her apron. She was looking forward to an evening of wandering through the stores and looking at Christmas goodies.
Since her phone call with Brody the night before, she’d wondered what might be good friend etiquette. Would it be too forward for her to buy him a little gift? And if she did, what on earth would it be?
She pulled on her coat, left the back room and headed toward the café’s front door. “Don’t spend too much money on a Christmas gift for me,” Daisy said with amusement. “I’ve got everything I want except a husband and I’m not sure I want another one of those.”
Mandy laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “I’ll see you at eleven tomorrow.”
“Enjoy your night,” Daisy called after her.
Mandy left the café. It had been an exhausting day and her feet were killing her, but the cold night air and the sight of the cheery red and green lights filled her with a new burst of energy.
It would be nice to have company while she shopped, but she was accustomed to being alone when she wasn’t dating anyone. At the moment she didn’t even feel like dating.
At least she’d taken care of her father’s dinner. Last night she’d made chicken and dumplings and there had been enough leftovers for him to warm himself up a plate this evening.
She had nothing on her mind as she headed for the mercantile store. She went inside, and a bell tinkled merrily overhead. The store smelled of spiced apple candles and evergreens and a variety of scents that spoke of the holiday. She drew in a deep breath. Christmas carols played softly from someplace overhead and Mandy was immersed in the holiday.
The mercantile store always dedicated shelf space not only for Christmas decorations but also for all kinds of gift sets and items that never appeared any other time of year.
She knew her father wouldn’t buy her anything. He even refused to have a tree put up in his house. But tonight Mandy intended to go home to her own apartment and put up and decorate the three-foot tabletop tree she’d gotten a couple of years ago.
She always bought a Christmas present for her mother and her brother. She’d wrap them and put them under her tree, and then a couple of days before Christmas she donated them to charity.
While they were under her tree she’d remember her love for her mother and her older brother, and she’d mourn the fact that her family had fallen apart when Regina Wright had passed away after battling cancer.
She rounded an aisle with her shopping cart and nearly bumped into Dillon Bowie and Cassie Peterson. “Hey, guys. Christmas shopping?”
“Just getting some ideas,” Cassie replied. She leaned into Dillon with a happy smile. “He won’t tell me what he wants, so I’m trying to find out if anything we see sparks his interest.”
“So far she’s told me at least a dozen things that she’d like to have,” Dillon replied with a teasing grin at the petite blonde next to him. “Besides, I keep telling her that I’ve got all I want. I have her.”
“Ah, that’s so sweet,” Mandy replied. Dillon and Cassie were the newest happy couple in Bitterroot. Through all the drama that had taken place at the Holiday Ranch, they had come together in love. Mandy thought it was all wildly romantic.
“Thank goodness most of the snow is gone,” Cassie said.
“It definitely makes it easier to get around,” Mandy replied.
“How’s the kissing booth going?” Cassie asked.
“I think once it’s over Seth is going to be pleased with the money raised,” Mandy replied. “We have some generous people in this town.”
“Bitterroot has always been a charitable town,” Cassie agreed.
The three of them visited for just a few more minutes and then Mandy continued her quest for perfect Christmas gifts. By the time she made her way home, she’d bought a beautiful eternity scarf for her mother, a bottle of cologne for her brother and a black leather wallet for her father. He’d probably hate it, but at least she’d tried.
She’d also picked up a pair of earrings in the shape of reindeer that lit up for Daisy. The flamboyant café owner would get a hoot out of them. With Mandy’s packages in a large shopping bag, she headed home.
The studio apartment above the detached garage had originally been rented out to make extra money, but four years ago the last tenant had moved out and Mandy had convinced her father to rent it to her.
It wasn’t huge, but there was a living room space with a sofa, a chair and a small kitchenette. There was still enough room left over for her queen-size bed shoved against a wall, a dresser and the bathroom.
The Wright ranch was relatively large, with lots of good pasture and a wooded area with beautiful shade trees. But it had been years since her father had actually worked the ranch. Now he preferred either sitting in his recliner and complaining about his life, or heading to the Watering Hole, where he could try to drink away those complaints.
As she prepared to wrap the silky scarf in shiny silver paper, her thoughts turned to her mother. Mandy had only a few memories of the woman who had given birth to her, and all of them were pleasant ones. Her mother had loved music and often sang as she cleaned or cooked. She had also been a beautiful woman and Mandy had been told by people in town that she looked just like her.
Her brother, Graham, had been a terrific big brother until the day he’d left. At first she’d thought he’d come back to get her, but she’d given up on that belief years ago.
By nine o’clock the tree was up on a small table in the living room area and all the presents were wrapped and under the tree. She sat on the sofa for a few minutes and admired the way the little white lights shone on the silver-and-red ornaments.
Christmas could be a little depressing for her since most of the time she celebrated alone. But she always tried to focus on positive things to keep the blues away.
With the tree up and the presents wrapped, she ate a chicken salad sandwich and changed into her pajamas. Finally she got into bed with her cell phone and considered calling Brody.
It would be nice to end the pleasant night as she had the night before, with Brody’s deep voice the last sound she heard before falling asleep. She decided not to call him. She didn’t want to seem too forward and wind up pushing him away.
She slept without dreams and awakened to the sound of her alarm. It was six fifteen. She would have loved to linger in bed, but her father was usually an early riser and liked his breakfast around seven.
She showered and dressed in the yellow T-shirt and black slacks that were her café uniform, then grabbed her purse and headed toward the big two-story house in the distance.
Over the past couple of years she’d tried to convince her father to sell the ranch and move closer to town. He didn’t need the land or the huge house, but he’d refused to consider it. She’d thought about moving into an apartment in town but knew her father depended on her rent money to help pay the bills.
The eastern sky was just starting to light as she unlocked the back door and stepped into the large kitchen. The sound of the television drifting in from the living room let her know her father was already up.
She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of a chair at the table, then moved to the coffee maker on the counter. Before greeting him she needed to get the coffee going. George Wright without his morning coffee was definitely an irritable bear.
As she waited, she looked around the kitchen, remembering the old days when they sat at the table as a family, the old days when her mother had been alive and Graham had been home.
When there was enough fresh brew, she filled a cup and left the kitchen. “Morning, Dad,” she said cheerfully as she entered the living room.
She could see the back of his head above the black leather recliner chair that faced the television, but he didn’t answer her.
Great, he wasn’t speaking to her...again. He was probably mad at her for going shopping the night before and leaving him to warm up his own dinner.
“Dad?” She rounded the chair and froze in horror.
Her father’s brown eyes stared blankly forward. His slashed throat gaped wide and blood had splashed down the front of him. There was no question that he was dead.
“No.” The cup of coffee slipped from her hand and crashed to the hardwood floor as a scream released from her.
* * *
Brody lingered over a cup of coffee in the cowboy dining room, listening as Sawyer and Mac McBride discussed the weather and the forecast for a dryer winter than usual.
If it had been springtime the men would already be out of here and doing morning chores in the field, but in winter the schedule was far more lax.
Aside from providing feed and water for the cattle and taking care of the horses, they spent most of their time repairing and maintaining equipment.
He tuned out their conversation and instead found himself thinking about Mandy. He’d been surprised when she’d called him two nights before just to chat. Brody didn’t just “chat” with anyone, but he’d found it impossible to remain stoic and distant with her. She was so bubbly and happy, and he found her remarkably easy to talk to.
They’d discussed the people they knew and their love of the small town of Bitterroot. He’d told her about the latest movie he’d seen and she talked about how many people loved ketchup on their scrambled eggs.
“Earth to Brody,” Sawyer said, pulling Brody out of his thoughts.
“Sorry. What did you say?” Brody asked.
“We want you to talk to Cassie about putting up a new shed first thing in the spring,” Mac said.
“You know we had plans to replace the old one when we pulled down the storm-damaged one, but discovering those skeletons put everything on hold,” Sawyer added. “And as you also know, we need the extra storage space.”
“We can’t do anything before spring, but I’ll mention it to her,” Brody replied at the same time his cell phone rang.
He frowned and dug it out of his pocket, surprised to see Mandy’s number. Why would she be calling him this early in the morning? He didn’t mind her calling him occasionally, but not during work hours. He excused himself, got up and walked away from the men at the table. He then answered.
“Brody, my father is dead.” Her voice exploded over the line, a combination of horror and tears. “He’s...he’s in his chair and somebody murdered him...they slashed his throat and...and blood...there’s so much blood.”
Every muscle in his body tensed. “Mandy, have you called Dillon?”
“I... No, not yet.” There was a long moment of her weeping.
“Mandy, call Dillon and when he arrives, don’t say anything to anyone and don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.” Brody hung up and hurried over to Sawyer and Mac. “I’m heading out and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“What’s going on?” Sawyer asked.
“Mandy Wright’s father has been murdered.” Brody didn’t waste time saying another word. He hurried out the door and ran to the shed that held the cowboys’ personal vehicles.
The cold air was biting, but not as cold as the thoughts that flew through his head. George Wright murdered? There was no way in hell Brody believed Mandy was responsible for her father’s death.
Others would say she had opportunity and some would believe she had motive. Brody certainly wasn’t a lawyer, but she would be the first suspect unless the killer had left a specific calling card.
He knew what it was like to be a suspect. He and all the other men who worked the Holiday Ranch had been suspects first in the seven murders that had taken place so long ago and then more recently when one of their own ranch hands had been murdered. It was easy to appear guilty of a crime even if you had nothing to do with it.
He drove like a bat out of hell, the sound of Mandy’s horrified weeping echoing in his head. He never wanted to hear another woman crying with that kind of pain and terror.
Terror... Oh God, was the murderer still in the house with her? Was she in danger right now? Damn, he should have told her to get out of the house.
He slowed long enough to turn in to the long driveway that led to the Wright home. The morning sun shone bright on the white paint of the two-story house.
He recognized both George’s and Mandy’s cars and realized he had beaten Dillon and his men to the scene of the crime. He parked and hurried out of the truck. He raced to the front door and knocked. It opened and Mandy flew into his arms.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck as deep sobs wrenched through her. He held her tight and stroked her back in an effort to calm her.
“It’s going to be okay, Mandy,” he murmured.
“No, it’s not,” she cried. “He’s gone and now I’ll never have the chance to have a better relationship with him. Nothing is ever going to be okay again.” She cried even harder and there was nothing Brody could do to comfort her other than hold her while she wept.
He was still holding her when Chief of Police Dillon Bowie arrived along with two other patrol cars and three of his men. As they parked and then approached the house, Brody finally released Mandy.
“Brody,” Dillon greeted him with a touch of surprise in his gray eyes and then turned toward Mandy. “Where is he?”
“In the family room,” Mandy replied and began to cry again.
The four men went into the house, and Brody led Mandy through the small living room and into the kitchen. “Sit,” he said and gently pushed her down into one of the chairs at the table.
He noticed the nearly full coffeepot on the counter and searched the cabinets until he found two mugs. He poured them each a cup and then sat next to her.
Tears clung to her long lashes as she wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug. “I don’t believe this is happening.” She gazed up at him, her eyes dark and pain-filled. “Please tell me this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and everything will be fine.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he replied with a gentleness he hadn’t even known he possessed.
She stared down into the mug for several long minutes. The only sounds in the room were the low male voices drifting in from the family room.
“Tell me what you did last night.”
Once again she looked up at him, this time with a tiny frown line etched across her brow. “I worked at the café until about six and then went shopping. I got home about eight, wrapped some presents and went to bed.”
“Alone?”
He regretted the question the minute it left his lips. A flash of new pain radiated from her eyes. “Yes, alone,” she replied curtly.
At that moment Dillon walked into the kitchen. “Mandy, I’m so sorry for your loss. We’re waiting now for Teddy to arrive. In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?” Teddy was Ted Lymon, the medical examiner.
Mandy nodded and Dillon sat in the chair opposite her. “Why would somebody do that to my father? Who would do something like this?” she asked, the words laced with pain.
“That’s what I’m going to try to figure out,” Dillon replied. “Tell me exactly what happened this morning.”
Mandy’s pale face and shaking fingers spoke of her despair as she told Dillon about getting up that morning, dressing and then coming into the house to fix her father breakfast.
“Were any of the doors unlocked?” he asked.
“I know the front door wasn’t because I used my key to get in, and I can see from here that the back door is still locked,” she replied.
“I’ve got Ben looking at all the windows to check if entry was gained through one of them,” Dillon said.
“Do you have an idea of the time of death?” Brody asked.
“Teddy will have to make the official call, but I’d guess sometime in the middle of the night,” Dillon replied. “Which brings me to my next question. I know you were shopping yesterday evening, but what did you do after that?”
“I came home and wrapped some presents...” she began.
“And then I came over and spent the night with her.” Brody was grateful Mandy didn’t look as surprised as he felt as the alibi fell from his lips.
Jeez, what had he just done?
Chapter 4 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
The next four days went by in a haze for Mandy. She made her father’s funeral arrangements and kept in close touch with Dillon about the progress of the investigation. She didn’t know how she would have gotten through it all without Brody as a calm and steady presence beside her.
She’d been shocked when he’d told Dillon that he’d been with her on the night of her father’s murder. He’d gone even further and told the lawman to check with Fred Ferguson, who would attest to the fact that he and Mandy had also been together on the night of the snowstorm.
She now stood at the front door of the house, waiting for Brody to pick her up for the funeral. It was a beautiful afternoon in the midforties. The sun shone brightly and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Grief had also been a big part of the time that had passed since her father’s murder. She wasn’t sure she grieved for the man himself as much as for the relationship she’d wanted—she’d needed—from him and now would have no opportunity to ever gain.
There were still so many things she had to take care of. She’d been shocked to learn her father had a will on file with an attorney in town and he’d left her everything. In the event of her death her brother would be the beneficiary of what little estate there might be.
Brody had advised her not to make any decisions about things until she’d given herself time to fully grieve, but she’d already decided to clear out the house and put it on the market to sell. She would move to someplace in town, maybe a small house where she could build a life that didn’t include the memories of a father who had been so hateful, a man she’d desperately wanted to love her.
She had no idea how many people might attend the funeral this afternoon. She’d been shocked in the last couple of days to realize how many people disliked her father. She knew how he’d treated her, but she hadn’t known that he’d carried that same hateful attitude outside the house.
As Brody’s truck came up the lane toward the house, she couldn’t help the way her heart beat just a little faster. Although he hadn’t touched her in any way since the day she’d discovered her father dead, he’d been the best kind of friend she could ever ask for, and surely that was why her heart quickened at the sight of him.
She turned and hurried to the kitchen to retrieve her purse from the table. By the time she returned to the front door, he was out of his truck and approaching the porch.
Brody Booth in jeans and a flannel shirt was sexy, but Brody in a dark suit coat and slacks was off the charts. She stepped out on the porch, then closed and locked the door behind her.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked as they walked to his truck.
“I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to be. At least I’ve finally stopped crying all the time.”
He opened the passenger door and she slid inside. The truck interior smelled like him...the pleasant scents of sunshine and the outdoors and his woodsy cologne.
“What have you heard from Dillon?” he asked once he was in the truck and had started the engine.
“He called me last night to ask if I knew anything about a pushing and shoving fight my father had last Saturday night at the Watering Hole.”
“Who was he pushing and shoving with?”
“Lloyd Green. Apparently Dad owed Lloyd some money and Lloyd tried to collect.”
“So, did Dillon say that Lloyd was a suspect in the case?”
“Dillon seems to be playing things close to the vest, but I would assume Lloyd is a suspect.” Lloyd worked for Raymond Humes, but that was about all she knew about the older man.
They fell silent and she stared out the window at the barren winter landscape. What would happen after today? When the ceremony was over, would Brody go his own way?
He hadn’t exactly signed up for all this. Of course, when he’d offered up the alibi to Dillon, he had to have known that he’d bound them together, at least for a little while.
She was shocked by the new piercing pain that shot through her as she thought of going on without Brody in her life. She’d felt so alone before the night of the snowstorm and his friendship was definitely what was helping her get through these horrible, difficult days.
As he turned in to the Bitterroot Cemetery entrance, she was surprised to see a number of cars parked in the lot. There had been no visitation so this was the one and only opportunity people would have to say a final goodbye to George Wright.
They got out of the truck and were greeted by Dillon and Cassie. “Mandy, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Cassie said and took one of Mandy’s hands in hers.
The warmth and compassion in her voice made tears spring to Mandy’s eyes. “Thank you, Cassie.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Cassie added as she released Mandy’s hand.
Mandy looked at Dillon. “All anyone can do for me now is to help catch the person who’s responsible for my father’s murder.”
“The investigation is ongoing,” he replied.
Julia Hatfield, a waitress at the café, hurried over and pulled Mandy into a tight hug. “Oh, honey, I can’t stay long because I have a shift in a little while, but I wanted you to know I’m so sorry, and you come to me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Julia,” Mandy replied.
Reverend Wally Johnson walked toward them all, his expression somber and fitting the occasion. “Are we ready to begin?”
Mandy drew in a deep breath and released it, then nodded. It was a bit of a walk to the actual gravesite. Mandy, Brody and Wally led the small crowd over the top of a small rise and then to the place where Mandy’s mother rested.
George would be happy resting next to the woman he’d loved. When she’d died she’d taken so much of what little goodness he’d had with her.
They were trailed by several neighbors, a couple of waitresses from the café, Butch Cooper and two men from the Humes ranch.
Mandy assumed the Humes men might have been her father’s drinking buddies. At least Lloyd Green wasn’t here. Still, her father probably would have opened the door to Lloyd. Heck, her father would have opened the door to most anyone he knew on the night of his murder. There had been no signs of a break-in or robbery and no hard evidence that anyone had been in the house. The killer must have relocked whatever door he’d entered when he was finished slashing her father’s throat.
She glanced up at Brody, so tall and stoic next to her. His very presence helped to calm the tension that had balled up tight in her stomach.
This was it. This was so final. She was now an orphan and she would never, ever be able to get the kind of relationship she’d longed for with her father.
She’d thought she’d cried all the tears in her body, but she’d been wrong. The moment Wally began to speak, tears chased each other down her cheeks.
She would have broken down altogether had Brody not reached out and took her hand in his. The warmth of his hand around hers, the silent support he offered were enough to keep her somewhat in check.
The official ceremony didn’t take long. There were no good friends to speak of George in glowing terms and Mandy had declined to speak. When it was over, she told everyone that they were welcome at the house, where sandwiches would be served.
She didn’t expect anyone to come. Most of these people who had come had done so to show support for her, which she appreciated.
They were about to leave when Aaron Blair and his wife, Sadie, walked over to the two of them. Aaron was a big man with dark hair, and his wife was a willowy blonde who looked as if she could use a good meal. They owned the ranch next to the Wright place, but Mandy barely knew them.
“Brody... Mandy,” Aaron greeted them. “Mandy, I’d tell you I was sorry for your loss, but your father was a mean, spiteful man who nobody will miss.”
Mandy took a step backward in stunned shock. “Aaron,” his wife replied in surprise.
“Well, it’s the truth,” Aaron said firmly, raising his square jaw. “George accused me of stealing land from him for years. He accused me of putting up my fencing three feet on his property despite the three surveys I paid for to prove him wrong. He was nothing more than a miserable bastard.”
“And I think that’s enough,” Brody replied in a stern voice. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to air your grievances.”
“Come on, Aaron. Let’s go home,” Sadie said. She jerked on her husband’s arm and the two of them headed away from the gravesite.
“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Brody said softly.
Grief once again tightened Mandy’s throat. “It doesn’t matter if my dad was mean or not. He still didn’t deserve to have his throat cut while sitting in his recliner chair in his own home.” She swallowed hard against the emotion that rose up in the back of her throat.
“I just hope Dillon is aware of the bad blood between your father and Aaron,” Brody replied.
She looked at him in surprise. “Surely you don’t think Aaron had anything to do with the murder. I can’t imagine it.”
“None of us could imagine Adam being a serial killer,” he reminded her. He looped his arm through hers. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Together they headed back toward the parking area, but before they got there a man appeared in the distance. Mandy froze at the sight of him.
Was it? Could it be?
She pulled her arm from Brody’s, every muscle in her body tensed. “Graham?” The name whispered from her.
As he drew closer and smiled at her, joy exploded in her heart. “Graham!”
She ran toward her brother, half laughing and half crying. She had no idea how he had heard about their father’s murder. She didn’t care where he had come from. The only thing that mattered was that he was here now.
* * *
Brody didn’t like him. He stood in the kitchen with Daisy, who had arrived only moments before with sandwiches, potato salad and baked beans.
Mandy was in the living room, catching up with her brother, and it had taken Brody about two minutes to realize he didn’t particularly like and he damned straight didn’t trust Graham Wright.
There was no overt reason for his dislike or distrust of the man, other than he’d appeared out of nowhere after being gone for years. It was just a gut instinct that was hard to deny.
About ten people had come back to the house following the funeral, including Dillon and Cassie. They were also in the family room, and Brody hoped Dillon was not only visiting with Graham but also interrogating him as to his whereabouts when George had been murdered.
“Darn, I left the tossed salad out in my car,” Daisy said.
“Need some help?” Brody asked.
“Nah, I’ll go get it.” She left the kitchen by the back door, and at the same time Butch Cooper came in from the family room.
“Hey, Brody,” he said and picked up one of the paper plates. “These look good.” He grabbed two of the half sandwiches and put them on his plate.
“Daisy doesn’t make bad food,” he replied. “Even her sandwiches taste better than any I’ve ever eaten.”
Butch nodded and stepped closer to him. “What do you think about the prodigal son’s return?”
Brody glanced toward Graham and then looked back at Butch. “The verdict is still out.”
Butch nodded. “Yeah, mine, too. Mandy sure is happy to see him.”
“I know she’s missed him for a very long time.” Over the last couple of days Mandy had spoken often about her childhood memories of her brother. She’d believed she would never see him again.
Butch stared down at his plate for a moment and then looked back up. “I’m glad she has you.”
There was a softness in the big cowboy’s eyes. Brody stared at him. “Does she know you’re in love with her?” he asked.
Butch looked as if he might protest and then smiled with a shrug of his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter whether she knows it or not. According to her I’m just an ordinary toad and not the prince she’s waiting for. It’s easy to be crazy about Mandy, but all I want for her is happiness, and right now you seem to be making her happy.”
Brody didn’t have a chance to tell Butch that it wasn’t like that, for at that moment Daisy flew back into the kitchen carrying a large salad bowl. “Here we go,” she said.
As Butch continued to fill his plate, Brody moved to the doorway between the kitchen and the family room. The recliner chair where George had been killed had been moved out after Dillon released the house as a crime scene.
Dillon and Cassie sat in straight-backed chairs and Mandy and Graham sat next to each other on the sofa. Graham was telling them about his life in Texas, where he worked as an accountant for a large financial firm.
“I’d stayed in touch with Zeke Osmond over the years, and he called me the minute he heard that my dad was dead,” Graham said, a fact that didn’t do anything to endear the man to Brody. Zeke worked for Raymond Humes and had long been suspected of being part of the nuisance fires, the stolen cattle and other crimes that had taken place on the Holiday Ranch.
“I can’t believe Zeke knew where you were all this time and didn’t tell me,” Mandy replied.
“I asked him to keep it a secret until I felt like it was time to come back here and see Dad and you in person,” Graham replied.
Mandy’s eyes sparkled and despite the somber black dress she wore, she looked beautiful. The last few days had been more difficult for him than he’d ever expected.
While Mandy had grieved, he had lusted. The scent of her stirred him like no other, and no matter what she wore he found her sexy as hell. This wasn’t the way a friendship was supposed to work.
The minute he’d provided her an alibi to Dillon, Brody had known that he’d thrown himself into a relationship with her, at least until her father’s murder was solved.
Maybe now that Graham was back in her life Mandy wouldn’t care if Brody distanced himself from her. Maybe she’d stop calling him late in the evenings just to say good-night. This might be his opportunity to step away from her.
And he needed to step away from her. He’d started looking forward to her good-night calls. He dreamed of capturing her lips with his, of stroking her naked curves and more. He didn’t want or need anyone in his life, especially a woman who was looking for her prince. He was definitely no prince.
“Where were you on the night your father was murdered?” Dillon leaned forward in his chair.
Graham smiled. He had a smile just like Mandy’s...wide and warm. “I was at a company Christmas party. I’ll be happy to give you names of people who were there with me and will corroborate that I attended.”
“And after the party ended?” Dillon’s expression was pleasant enough but his gray eyes were hard and cold. Those same cold eyes had been directed at Brody when Dillon believed one of the Holiday Ranch cowboys was guilty of murder.
“The party didn’t break up until after one or so and then I went to my fiancée’s apartment and spent the night there,” Graham replied.
“I can’t believe you’d think he’s guilty of anything,” Mandy said to Dillon with a touch of outrage.
“Honey, now isn’t the time or the place,” Cassie said softly to Dillon.
“Of course,” Dillon replied and sat back in his chair. “But I would like to speak to you later,” he added to Graham.
“I’ll be glad to,” Graham replied.
Butch and some of the others left and eventually everyone else got up, filled a plate and found places to sit at the table. The talk turned to what Mandy intended to do with the property.
“I need to clean out everything. I’ll donate Dad’s clothes and the furniture, and then I’m going to sell.” She looked at her brother seated next to her. “I’ll split everything fifty-fifty with you, Graham.”
“I don’t need your money, Mandy,” he replied. “I’ve done pretty well for myself. Besides, that’s not why I came back here.”
“Why did you come back?” The words blurted out of Brody.
Graham frowned. “I came back because not a day went by that I didn’t think about my little sister.” He gazed at Mandy. “I was always sorry that I left you behind, but we were both so young.” He looked at Brody. “When I heard about the murder, I knew I needed to see Mandy and make sure she was okay.”
Mandy reached across the table and grabbed one of his hands. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters other than you’re here now.”
“I’m here until just after the first of the year, and then I need to get back to my job and my life in Dallas,” he replied.
“And I can’t wait to hear all about your life in Dallas,” Mandy replied.
Brody glanced at his watch. The day was fading away and he needed to leave. He had someplace he had to be in thirty minutes.
“Mandy, I need to head out,” he said.
She jumped up from the table. “Okay, I’ll walk you out.”
She grabbed her coat from the hall tree and shrugged it on. Together they walked out into the fading light of day. “Brody, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done to support me over the last couple of days.”
“It was my pleasure,” he replied.
“I really don’t know what I would have done without you.” They reached his truck’s driver’s door and she gazed up at him with her gorgeous dark-lashed eyes. “You aren’t going to stop being my friend just because I have a brother now, are you?”
Although that was exactly what he’d intended to do, there was no way he could look into her soulful eyes and tell her that...especially not today of all days. “Of course not,” he replied.
She grinned, suddenly threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips firmly against his cheek. His body immediately responded to her body so close to his and to the warmth of her lips against his skin.
“What’s that for?” he asked gruffly as she released her hold on him.
“That’s for being the best friend I could ever ask for,” she replied. “I’ll call you later?”
“Sounds good,” he said.
He watched while she hurried back into the house. Adrenaline still whipped through him. He needed to lift a car or cut down a tree or do something physical to rid himself of the unwanted surge of desire inside him.
He got into his truck and pulled away from the Wright place, grateful that he was on his way to spend some time with Ellie.
Chapter 5 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
Mandy released a sigh that blew a strand of hair away from her face. She placed a box of books next to the doorway in her father’s bedroom and then looked up at her brother, who was emptying dresser drawers.
“I think we need to take a break,” she said. They had been working nonstop for the past two hours, ever since Mandy had gotten off work at the café.
Graham stopped working and sank down on the edge of the bed. “The last time I was in this room it was Mother’s sewing room,” he said.
“Dad moved down here about a month after you left. I think he couldn’t stand being in the master bedroom upstairs without Mom.”
She scanned the small room. “At least we’ve made some progress tonight.”
“Actually, I’m going to take off in just a few minutes. It’s getting late and I’m supposed to meet Zack and a couple of other guys at the Watering Hole for drinks in about fifteen minutes.”
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Carla Cassidy
A rugged rancher to depend on!A man who keeps his secrets to himself, rancher Brody Booth is used to life being tough. The last thing he expects is for a beautiful woman to come his way and Mandy Wright's as unpredictable as the snowstorm that traps them together.Mandy is independent and trusts no one. When it comes to relationships, she's always the first to walk away. Letting Brody close enough to protect her from a killer feels strange – and thrilling. Having feelings for him is risky. Can she find a way to outrun danger and fall in love?
In New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy’s latest thriller, a loner cowboy meets his match!
A man who keeps his secrets close to his chest, gruff rancher Brody Booth is used to things being complicated. The last thing he expects is for a beautiful woman to be his undoing. But Mandy Wright’s as unpredictable as the snowstorm that traps them together.
Mandy is independent and trusts no one. When it comes to relationships, she’s always the first to walk away. Letting Brody close enough to protect her from a killer feels strange—and thrilling. Having feelings for him is as risky as surrendering to the threat. Can she find a way to outrun danger and fall in love?
“I hope you don’t mind the candles. I always light a couple before I go to sleep.”
“I don’t mind,” he replied. Hell yes, he minded the candles that painted her face in beautiful shadows and light. Hell yes, he minded the candles that made the room feel so much smaller and much more intimate.
He walked over to the sofa and found a bed pillow and a soft, hot-pink blanket. He placed his gun on the coffee table, unfolded the blanket and then stretched out.
“Brody?”
“Yeah?” He answered without opening his eyes.
“Somehow, someway I’ll make this all up to you.”
Visions instantly exploded in his head, erotic visions of the two of them making love. He jerked his head to halt them. “You don’t have to make anything up to me.”
He couldn’t be her friend. She was too much of a temptation and he couldn’t be friends with a woman he wanted. He didn’t want to be friends with anyone.
He’d see her through this threat and then he had to walk away from her and never look back.
* * *
Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting series:
Cowboys of Holiday Ranch—Where sun, earth and hard work turn men into rugged cowboys…and irresistible heroes!
Sheltered by the Cowboy
Carla Cassidy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one hundred and twenty novels for Mills & Boon. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.
Contents
Cover (#u509b2ae7-b46a-5518-8fe2-07e5a573a72e)
Back Cover Text (#uddc19d3b-8a01-59cc-89bb-2328965a56cd)
Introduction (#ue488d12b-be09-590f-9957-24c35ff4305e)
Title Page (#u44ba93c2-2a7d-5ea8-976a-015cb748d978)
About the Author (#u460a2ac0-f8b7-527d-afbf-e629caf99d71)
Chapter 1 (#uaeb5dd59-2d3f-5c92-a004-58900081f146)
Chapter 2 (#u8051a478-d230-538b-906f-ba843274d8b3)
Chapter 3 (#u6c0fe5a6-c680-5c74-9c82-41d54773b914)
Chapter 4 (#u6416b825-b5af-55de-804f-b0397a3777cc)
Chapter 5 (#uae352d21-9c1f-5c37-8a8c-1235a20eaddd)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
Amanda Wright hummed the tune of “Let It Snow” under her breath as she stamped her feet in an effort to get warm.
The short red Mrs. Santa costume she wore with the white faux fur around the bottom, the neckline and at the cuffs looked cute but did little to provide any real warmth. Wearing flesh-colored tights was almost like being bare-legged, and the short black leather boots on her feet were fashion-forward, but definitely not keeping her toes warm.
She could always step into the small wooden booth’s tiny back room, where an oil heater spewed out a bit of warmth, but it was almost time for her to pack it in for the day and she didn’t want to miss her last chance to help make a difference.
Darkness had fallen an hour before, and yet the streets of Bitterroot were aglow with the merry lights of the Christmas season. Illuminated red-and-white candy canes hung from every light pole and shoppers still scurried along the sidewalks, trying to get in last-minute supplies before a predicted big snowstorm struck.
Mandy loved this time of year, when the air smelled of evergreen wreaths and cinnamon sticks, and Christmas carols spilled out of every store doorway. Even though the holiday was still a little over two weeks away, Bitterroot was already in the spirit.
She smiled as she saw Butch Cooper approaching the booth. She had dated Butch for about a month and had only recently broken up with him. Thankfully, despite the breakup they had remained good friends.
“Buy a kiss for a dollar,” she said. “All proceeds go to the youth program.”
Butch pulled his wallet out of his pocket and withdrew a five-dollar bill. “I’ll just donate this to the cause,” he said and handed her the money.
“Thanks, Butch,” she replied. He was such a nice guy, but it hadn’t taken her long to realize he wasn’t the Prince Charming she was waiting for. Although she’d enjoyed his company, there just hadn’t been any real romantic spark with him. “How are you doing?”
“I’m getting by. What about you?”
“The same. I’m keeping busy between the café and this booth,” she replied.
“You’d better think about getting yourself home soon,” he said. “There’s freezing rain moving in and then it’s supposed to snow like the devil.”
“I’m planning on packing it up in just a little while. I’m hoping to make a little more money before I close down for the night.”
“Just don’t wait too long. You know Seth wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk for a couple more dollars.”
“I know. Thanks, Butch.” She watched as the tall, nice-looking cowboy walked away. She released a deep sigh, her breath coming out in a big, frosty puff.
The old saying was that you had to kiss a lot of toads before finally finding a prince. She’d dated most of the single men in town but had yet to find that special toad.
When Seth Richardson had asked her to donate her spare time in a kissing booth for charity, she’d instantly agreed. She knew how important the youth program was in town. She only wished there had been some kind of a youth program when she’d been growing up.
For the past couple of days, when she wasn’t working as a waitress at the café, she’d been in this booth. There were two other young women who worked the booth, as well. At least the red-and-white-painted booth was located between the feed store and the mercantile, which meant it got a fair amount of foot traffic.
She stamped her feet once again and mentally cursed the cold. Yes, she loved this time of year and she especially loved to watch it snow, but at the moment, with her fingers and toes half-frozen, she wished it was seventy degrees.
Thoughts of the cold faded away as she saw another handsome cowboy approaching her. The Christmas lights on the buildings flickered and highlighted his strong, bold features in shades of green and red. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders, and wore his black cowboy hat pulled down as if to warn people away.
Brody Booth.
Just seeing him warmed her a little bit even though they’d scarcely ever exchanged more than a handful of words. He was definitely one sexy cowboy.
“Hey, Brody. How about a kiss for a dollar?” she called out to him. “It’s for charity.”
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. “No, thanks, Mandy. I kind of like being the only man in town you haven’t kissed.” He turned and continued on his way.
She stared after him in stunned surprise. “You’re a jerk, Brody Booth,” she called.
His words stung with their implication. She knew her reputation in town was for being fast and loose, a reputation that had begun in high school and had haunted her ever since. Of course, she hadn’t helped matters by kissing so many toads.
Brody was one of the best-looking jerks she’d ever seen, but she told herself now that she didn’t give two hoots about what he thought of her.
What she’d better start thinking about was getting home. The ping of sleet against the wooden booth was a definite warning that it was time to get out of Dodge.
She closed the awning, stepped into the back space and turned off the heater and the battery-operated light that cast a dim glow. Her coat hung on a small hook next to the back door, and she quickly pulled it on. Then she shoved the small metal money box into her purse, locked up for the night and left the booth.
The sleet stung her face as she hurried to her car. The icy mixture was piling up fast. She probably should have left half an hour before.
The scent of snow whirled on the wind that had picked up, and she was suddenly aware that the streets were virtually deserted.
She hurried to her car and got inside, rubbing her hands together as she waited for the heater to blow hot air. Ice already glazed her windshield, making it impossible for her to see out and drive. Hopefully, between the wipers and the defrost, she could get it cleared off as soon as possible.
Still, by the time she finally crept out of her parking space, the sleet had turned to snow. It wasn’t a fluffy, pretty event. Rather, the snowflakes were small and icy and wind-driven.
Visibility was almost nonexistent and the back tires slid each time she tried to accelerate. She was going to be far later getting home than she’d told her father.
Although she lived in a small apartment above the detached garage on the property, when she could she cooked and cleaned for her father.
Of course, he had probably prepared for the snowstorm by buying plenty of liquor. If she was lucky he’d already be passed out by the time she got home. At least she’d thought ahead and had brought home a meatloaf dinner from the café. It sat on the passenger seat in a foam container inside a white bag. When she did get home, if her dad was waiting for her she could have his dinner ready in mere microwave magic minutes.
At the moment his meal wasn’t her concern. Just getting home in this mess was her main issue. The snowflakes were now bigger, but coming down at an alarming pace. Her muscles tensed as she hunched over the steering wheel and squinted to see the road ahead.
She hadn’t even made it out of town when she felt the disheartening slide of her tires against the pavement. The car was moving sideways. Frantically she turned the wheel first left and then right to straighten out. In horror she realized she was no longer in control.
She knew better than to apply the brakes, but she was sliding on pure ice and headed for a ditch. Her heart hitched in her chest and she braced.
She squealed as the car hit the ditch and came to a dead stop. She tried to move forward and the tires spun impotently. She threw it into Reverse with the same results.
“Darn, darn!” She hit the steering wheel with her palms. She was good and stuck.
She’d have to call for a tow. She unfastened her seat belt and pulled her purse onto her lap, rummaging around inside it until she grabbed her cell phone.
Before she could dial a number, she glanced in her rearview mirror and gasped in renewed horror. Twin headlights were careening toward the back of her car, and she couldn’t move out of the way. Objects in this mirror are closer than they appear. She read the words on her passenger mirror just before she squeezed her eyes tightly closed.
Bracing once again, she expected a crash, but it was more like a hard bump. The pickup truck hit her hard enough to throw the meatloaf dinner off the passenger seat and onto the floor, but thankfully not hard enough to injure her.
She looked in her rearview mirror once again and saw Brody getting out of the truck that had hit her. Great, just what she needed to make a bad situation even worse.
She rolled down her window and heard his muttered curses as he made his way to her driver side. “Sorry,” he said. “That patch of road is pure ice. Are you okay?”
“Tell me about it. I didn’t exactly drive into this ditch on purpose,” she replied drily. “And I’m fine, but frustrated.”
“It looks like I’m going to owe you a bumper.”
“Right now I’m not worried about a bumper. What I need is a tow out of this ditch.”
“That makes two of us. Mind if I get in?” He gestured to the passenger seat.
“Knock yourself out,” she replied. She rolled up her window as he left the driver side and walked around the front of the car to get into the passenger seat.
“What’s this?” he asked as he maneuvered his feet so he didn’t step on the bag on the floor. Once he was in, he moved the seat back to accommodate the length of his legs.
“Oh yeah, you owe me a bumper and a meatloaf special from the café,” she replied.
He filled the small interior of the car with the scent of the outdoors mingling with a woodsy cologne. Snow clung to his slightly shaggy dark hair and sinfully long dark eyelashes. He also wore the same frown she always saw on his face.
“I’ll call for a tow truck and we’ll worry about the bumper and meatloaf dinner later. The snow is really starting to pile up.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a series of numbers.
“Larry, it’s Brody Booth. Amanda Wright and I are stuck in a ditch just past the turnoff to the motel. We need a tow.”
It was obvious by his deepening frown that he wasn’t happy with whatever he was hearing, and a ball of anxiety unfurled in her chest.
“Okay, I understand. Yeah, I’ll be waiting for your call.” He hung up and pocketed his phone. “Larry and every other tow person in town is busy working the highway, which he said looks like a skating rink, so basically we’re on our own.”
“On our own?” She echoed his words as she stared at him in horror. “For how long?”
“It might be morning before somebody can finally get to us.”
“Morning? We can’t stay out here all night. I don’t even have a blanket in the car,” she said.
“You’re right. We can’t,” he agreed. “I suggest we walk to the motel. We can get rooms for the night and be out here first thing in the morning when help finally comes.”
She stared over her shoulder, where the motel sign blinked faintly like a red heartbeat through the haze of the falling snow. The snow. A shiver swept over her. It was deep enough now that it would swallow her little boots with the first step.
“Do you have some pants you can put on?” Brody asked. Was there a slight hint of disdain in his voice or was she only imagining it?
“Nope, just these sexy flesh-tone tights,” she replied flippantly. “Don’t worry about me, Brody. I’m used to taking care of myself.” She buttoned up her coat and mentally prepared for the cold trek to the motel.
“Wait for me. I need to lock up my truck.” He left the car and a gust of frigid air blew in.
She should have left the booth earlier. She should have been smart enough to keep a survival bag with blankets and bottled water and protein bars in the car. Sometimes she could be so stupid.
It didn’t take long for Brody to come back. He pulled open the driver’s door, and precariously she stepped out of the car. The icy wind instantly stole her breath, and she slid unsteadily with her first step.
He must have noticed because he grabbed her firmly by the upper arm, and together they made their way out of the ditch and back to the road.
It was impossible to speak with the howling wind in her ears and the driving snow hitting her in the face. She was just grateful for Brody’s strength as she slipped more than once and would have landed on her face or her butt if he hadn’t steadied her.
She was an icicle, frozen from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. All she could think about was a nice warm room, a very hot shower and then a bed to snuggle down in to wait out the storm.
She might have sobbed in relief when they reached the motel office but she was too frozen to cry. Brody immediately released his hold on her as he greeted Fred Ferguson, the owner of the motel.
“Heck of a night,” Fred said, his gaze behind his dark-rimmed glasses drifting from Brody to Mandy.
“The road is definitely treacherous tonight,” Brody replied.
“So are you both stuck?”
“Yeah, we’re both in a ditch down the road. We each need a room for the night,” Brody replied.
“That’s going to be a problem,” Fred replied.
Every frozen muscle in her body tensed. What now? “A p-p-problem?” she managed to stutter through her chattering teeth.
Fred nodded. “I’ve only got one room left.”
Brody visibly stiffened. “Only one?”
A wave of dread swept through Mandy. Apparently she would be spending the night with a man who didn’t like her and definitely didn’t respect her. Could this night get any worse?
“A double?” Brody asked hopefully.
“Nope, it’s a single with a queen bed.”
The night just got worse. She watched, dumbfounded, as Brody slowly pulled his wallet out of his pocket and released a deep, audible sigh. “I guess we’ll take it.”
* * *
Brody had had a long, rough day and the idea of being locked in a motel room with the voluptuous, beautiful Mandy Wright was a candle on the top of a crap cake.
He grabbed the key Fred placed on the counter and then headed out the door with Mandy trailing just behind him. There was no way he was going to crawl into bed with her tonight. Hopefully there would be a comfy chair in the room where he could sprawl until morning.
He had a feeling if he found himself under the sheets with Mandy, something would happen and they would wind up having sex, and he refused to be another cowboy she’d bedded and then tossed aside.
At room four he unlocked the door and opened it, reached inside to turn on the overhead light and then stepped aside so she could go in before him. She walked into the center of the room and turned to face him.
Her full lips were blue and her dark hair hung in wet strands around her shoulders. She shivered uncontrollably, and he shut the door more forcefully than he intended. “Go get in a hot shower,” he commanded. “You’re soaking wet.”
“But... I... I don’t have anything else to put on,” she replied, her lips barely moving.
Brody frowned, then walked over to the bed and yanked off the blue-and-gray spread. “Use this to wrap up in until your clothes can dry.” He thrust it into her arms.
As she turned and disappeared into the bathroom, he released another deep sigh. He shrugged out of his own coat and then turned up the heat in the room.
The room was one of the smaller ones the motel had to offer, and the chair, which he’d hoped would be big and comfortable enough for a night’s sleep, wasn’t. It was a spindly straight-backed chair in front of the window that would assure no sleep at all for the night.
He held his hands over the heat that had begun to blow from a vent. He could still smell her, a scent of brown sugar and vanilla that was intensely appealing.
At the sound of the shower running, he tried hard not to visualize a naked Mandy. Far too often in the past he’d fantasized about a naked Mandy. Jeez, this was going to be tough.
A glance out the window showed him that the snow was still coming down. The snow wasn’t so bad, but the icy mixture that had preceded it would have the whole town at a standstill.
He sat down on the edge of the chair and pulled off his boots. The bottoms of his jeans legs were wet, but there was no way in hell he intended to strip down. It was bad enough that Mandy was going to wear only a bedspread when she got out of the bathroom. A wave of warmth swept through him at the very thought.
Of all the women in town he could have been snowbound with, why did it have to be the one woman he was attracted to? A woman who, rumor had it, ate men for breakfast and spit them out by dinner? Not that he would care. He didn’t ever want a relationship with a woman.
At least she hadn’t moaned and groaned on the miserable trek to the motel. She’d soldiered up, lowered her head and had done what needed to be done without a single complaint, although she had to have been miserable.
He looked at his watch. It was just six thirty. What were they going to do to pass the rest of the evening? His stomach growled and he almost wished he’d picked up that meatloaf dinner from the floorboard and brought it to the room. He’d not only skipped dinner but also missed lunch. He wondered if she’d eaten dinner.
Maybe he’d check out the motel vending machines and see if he could grab something there. With that thought in mind he pulled his boots on once again.
A vision of Mandy clad in a red, white and blue sparkly bra exploded in his mind. It wasn’t just a fantasy. It was what she’d worn at the Holiday Ranch barn dance the month before. She’d been a sizzling sight as she’d danced and laughed and stirred something inside him that had been dormant for years...desire.
It had been a costume party and she’d come as a patriot, and since that night he’d had a hard time getting her out of his head.
As the sound of the shower stopped, his entire body tensed with an uncharacteristic anxiety. He quickly moved back to the chair and picked up the television remote from the table. She’d be coming out of the bathroom at any minute. At least the television would provide a welcome distraction from her. He punched the on button and stared at the message that danced across the screen.
No Signal Detected.
The bathroom door opened and she walked out, a vision wrapped in a bedspread.
This was definitely going to be a long night.
Chapter 2 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
The hot shower had been heavenly. Of course, she would have liked to have her own shower gel and a hair dryer and all the comforts of home, but she’d been grateful that her purse had contained a hair brush, lip gloss and a little bottle of her favorite body spray.
She wrapped the spread around her like an oversized towel, leaving her shoulders bare, but hiding anything that shouldn’t be shown.
Of all the men in the town, why did she have to be stuck here with Brody? The other women at the café called him the brooding one. He might be hot and handsome, but he didn’t seem to possess a glimmer of a sense of humor or even the ability to smile...at least, not at her.
Still, she’d been oddly attracted to him for a long time, despite his stern countenance and the fact that she felt like he somehow judged her and found her lacking.
Her heart beat just a little more quickly than usual when she walked out of the bathroom. He looked at her, and for just a moment, as his gaze slowly swept up and down her, she felt completely naked.
“The television isn’t working,” he said and stood, his gaze shifting to some point over her right shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get hungry before this night is over. I’ll check out the vending machines. Do you want something?”
“Whatever you can get. I haven’t eaten since just before noon,” she replied.
He pulled on his coat and flew out the door as if the very devil himself was chasing him. Mandy drew a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. This whole situation was definitely awkward and would probably only get more so as the night wore on.
She jumped up, went into the bathroom, grabbed her wet Santa costume and carried it into the main room. She draped it and her wet tights over one of the heater vents.
Maybe she and Brody both could relax better once her clothes were dry and she was dressed again. They just had to make the best of things for the night.
Instead of sitting on the edge of the mattress, she plumped up the pillows on what she decided was going to be her side and then stretched out.
She considered calling her father to tell him she was stuck for the night, but then decided against it. The last thing she needed right now was for him to tell her she was stupid and a huge disappointment to him. She’d heard that song from him enough times to last the rest of her life.
Besides, when she didn’t make it home, surely he would realize she might be stuck somewhere. The last thing George Wright would ever think to do was worry about his only daughter.
She tensed as Brody came back into the room, his shoulders and hair once again snow-covered. “I got one of everything the vending machine offered. I figured we can each pick what we want.” He set two sodas on the dresser and then began pulling goodies out of his coat pockets. “I hope you like cola.”
“Cola is fine...thanks,” she replied.
By the time they finished picking at the snacks, Mandy had scored a chocolate cupcake, a bag of corn chips, roasted peanuts and a cherry pie. She placed all the goodies and one of the sodas on the nightstand next to her and then patted the other side of the bed.
“You might as well get comfortable and relax, Brody,” she said. “It’s going to be a long night.”
He scowled and placed his snacks on the other nightstand. He then shrugged off his coat, pulled off his boots and stretched out next to her on the very edge of the bed.
“If you take a deep breath you’re going to fall right off the side,” she said.
“I’m fine,” he replied curtly.
She propped herself up on one elbow to face him. “Are you going to be in a bad mood the whole night?”
He looked at her in surprise. “What makes you think I’m in a bad mood?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Since you scowl all the time, it’s hard to tell when you’re in a good mood.” She consciously ignored the crazy warmth that swept through her at his nearness. His body heat radiated toward her and the scent of him was so pleasant.
“I’ve just been thinking about all the things I should be doing around the ranch. I’m acting as foreman right now and I should be there.” He leaned over and grabbed a package of potato chips off his nightstand.
Mandy knew Brody worked on the Holiday Ranch, and the local gossipmongers had been buzzing about everything that had taken place there over the past month.
“I still can’t believe Adam Benson killed all those people,” she said. “He seemed like such a nice guy...always with a pleasant smile,” she said pointedly.
Seven unsolved murders had taken place on the Holiday Ranch fifteen years ago and Chief of Police Dillon Bowie had been determined to solve the crime. It wasn’t until ranch foreman Adam tried to kill ranch owner Cassie Peterson that Dillon was finally able to solve the crimes and make sure Adam would never hurt anyone again. Adam had been killed when Dillon saved Cassie. Since then, Dillon had moved in with Cassie, and there was talk about a wedding in the near future.
“All of us were surprised. None of us had any clue how dangerous and sick Adam was.” He ripped open the bag of chips and offered it to her.
“So, you’re now the new foreman there.” She plucked out a chip and popped it into her mouth. It was vaguely irritating to her that he hadn’t really looked at her since he’d returned to the room with the goodies.
“Temporarily,” he replied. “Cassie offered me the position, and I took it for now with the understanding that I might not be the best man for the job.”
“Other than your obvious lack of people skills, why wouldn’t you be the best man for the job?”
“I do fine with most people,” he replied with a touch of irritation.
“So then it’s just me you don’t want to be nice to.”
He finally really looked at her, his dark brown eyes perfectly matching the brown in his plaid flannel shirt. Dear heaven, the man was so hot. His broad shoulders filled his side of the bed and his jeans fit tight on his slim hips, flat abdomen and long legs.
“Mandy, I don’t really know you.”
“Then tonight is a perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other better. Maybe we could even walk out of here in the morning as friends. I could always use a new friend. I don’t have many.”
“And why is that?” He gazed at her curiously.
Warmth swept into her cheeks. “I’m sure you know why most women don’t like me. With my reputation, I wouldn’t like me, either.” There, she’d mentioned the elephant in the room.
“Your reputation?”
She released a small, slightly bitter laugh. “Don’t play dumb with me, Brody Booth. I know what people say about me behind my back, that I’m fast and loose and wild, but you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
“I’m just wondering how Butch Cooper is going to feel in the morning when word gets out that we spent the night together.” He returned his gaze to some point just over her shoulder.
“Butch is old news. We broke up soon after Cassie’s barn dance. I’m not seeing anyone right now. What about you? Is somebody going to be upset with you about tonight?” She’d never heard anything about his personal life.
“I don’t have anyone in my life and I don’t want anyone.”
“And why is that?” she asked curiously. “Don’t you want to get married and eventually have kids?”
“Nope.”
“Are you gay?”
He released a small laugh. “Nope.”
For a moment she couldn’t remember what they’d just been talking about. All she could think of was that low, slightly husky and very sexy sound that had escaped him. She turned and grabbed her corn chips off the nightstand and then faced him once again.
“Why do you date so many men?” he asked.
She looked at him in surprise. “I’m twenty-nine years old, I’m single and I’m looking for the toad who will become my Prince Charming. So far, they’ve all just been common toads.”
“Maybe your standards are too high,” he replied. Once again he wasn’t looking at her but rather peering someplace over her head.
“Probably,” she agreed easily. “But why would I lower my standards as to who I want to spend the rest of my life with? I want a man who loves me desperately, somebody who will always have my back no matter what. I’ve never, ever had anyone like that in my entire life.”
“What about your family?”
She masked that particular pain with a small laugh. “My mother died when I was ten. A month after her death, my older brother ran away and never came back. My father pretty much hates my existence and only keeps me around so I can cook and clean for him.”
Afraid that she had sounded too harsh about her father, she continued, “Dad hurt his back nine years ago and had to go on disability, and he never got over my mother’s death. He needs my help and I’m glad to do it. All I want is to be good enough that he’ll be proud of me and love me.”
Jeez, what was she doing baring her soul to him? She really didn’t know him at all. She grabbed a chip from her bag, not wanting to think about how alone she’d felt for most of her life.
“You never heard from your brother again?” he asked.
She shook her head. “When Graham left he never looked back. I think maybe it helped break my father’s heart even more and that’s what made him so hard and bitter. So, what about you? What’s your family story?” She didn’t want to think about her brother or her father anymore. It hurt too much.
He stared up at the ceiling, as if contemplating whether to share anything with her or not. “You’ve probably heard that all of us cowboys at the Holiday Ranch were throwaway kids. Cass Holiday took us in when we were all in our early teens.”
“Everyone in town has heard the story,” she replied.
“I was fourteen when my father threw me out of the house because he caught me smoking a cigarette. It was almost a relief to be forced to leave. Like you, I lost my mama when I was young. My father was a brutal man with an uncontrollable rage inside him and that rage was usually focused on me.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I was fairly lucky. I’d only been out on the streets about a month when Francine Rogers, a social worker who was friends with Cass, offered me the chance to work on a ranch and brought me to Cass.”
“I didn’t know Cass well before she died, although I’ve heard all kinds of wild stories about her.”
His lips curled up in a beautiful smile that stole her breath away. “She was quite a character...tough as nails, yet she made all of us feel valued and wanted. Most of us probably would have died on the streets if not for her.”
“It’s so nice she gave you all a second chance.”
“She gave us hope and while we were all a little worried when Cassie, her niece, took over, everything has been different, but fine.”
Mandy released a small sigh. “I’m hoping someday I can get to a really good place with my father.”
Brody’s smile disappeared. “And what if that doesn’t happen?” he asked.
“Then I’ll just have to be content with the knowledge that I did everything I could for him,” she said with more assurance than she felt. “See?” she added with a wide grin. “We’re getting along just fine. We have a lot in common.”
He quirked a dark eyebrow upward. “Bad childhoods don’t necessarily make us good friend material.”
She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her, but she wanted him to come away from this night seeing her as so much more than her crummy reputation.
“Do you like pizza?” she asked.
“Who doesn’t?” he replied easily.
“What about Mexican food?”
“There isn’t much I don’t like to eat,” he said.
“That’s great. You like to eat and I love to cook. That’s something else that makes us potential friend material.”
For the next couple of hours they talked about all kinds of topics. They both enjoyed country and western music and disliked hard rock. Autumn was her favorite season and he liked spring the best. The more time that passed with light conversation, the more they relaxed with each other.
She told him about her dream to someday open a little restaurant of her own, and he talked about his life and work on the ranch. But she knew her attraction to him would go nowhere. He didn’t seem to be drawn to her in that way at all.
They had just finished eating all their goodies when the conversation returned to her reputation.
“You didn’t go to Bitterroot High School,” she said.
“No, Cass decided it was best to homeschool all of us.”
“You were lucky. It was a seething pool of gossip and drama, and that’s when my bad reputation started. I was dating Richard Herridge when we were both juniors. He was on the football team and real popular.”
“He works on the Humes ranch now,” Brody said, his scowl back.
“He’s just another creep like all the rest of the men who work for Humes,” she replied. The Holiday Ranch hands and the Humes men didn’t get along. The entire town knew about the ongoing feud between the neighboring ranches.
“Anyway, we’d been dating for about a month and he started pressuring me to have sex with him. I finally said it wasn’t going to happen and I broke up with him. The next morning everyone at school was talking about how I had sex with him, and then he broke up with me because he’d gotten what he wanted. And that’s when it all began.”
She couldn’t begin to speak of the depth of the anguish that had chased her through the last of her high school years. Girls scorned her and lots of the boys dated her and then lied about having sex with her.
Even now there were women who were reluctant to have anything to do with her, but her dance card was always filled. She’d never figured out a way to change people’s perception of her, and she’d finally stopped trying long ago.
“You haven’t exactly gone out of your way to try to change people’s view of you,” Brody said.
“What’s the point? People expect provocative behavior from me and so that’s what I give them. I’m kind of like a cow that has been branded, and once that brand is done there’s no way to get rid of it.”
She shrugged and then grabbed at the bedspread before it could slip downward. “Every town needs a bad girl and I guess I play that role in Bitterroot.”
He gazed at her for a long moment and then released a deep sigh. “It’s getting late. I suggest we both get some sleep. Hopefully the tow trucks will be out here early in the morning.”
“My clothes should be dry by now.” She got up from the bed, careful to keep the bedspread in place, and grabbed her clothing from the heater vent. “I’ll be right back.”
It took her only minutes in the bathroom to redress in the now warm and dry Santa costume. When she returned to the room, together they put the bedspread back on. Then he turned out the light and they got into bed. She snuggled under the covers and he remained on top.
Even in the dark she was acutely aware of him so close to her, close enough that she could swear she heard the steady beat of his heart. It was slightly thrilling even though she knew it shouldn’t be so.
“Brody?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being so nice to me tonight.”
“Go to sleep, Mandy.”
“Okay.” She turned over and tried not to think about how much she wished that he would pull her into his arms, hold her for just a little while against his broad chest until she drifted off to happy dreams.
But if they walked out of here tomorrow morning and could be real friends, she’d be happy with that...because she suspected she’d have to be.
* * *
Something tickled at his nose. Something...fuzzy. No...furry. Brody opened his eyes to early morning light seeping in around the edges of the blue draperies at the window. Mandy’s fur collar was right under his nose and he was spooned around the back of her as if he belonged there.
Move, a small inner voice urged him, but he ignored it. For just a brief moment he remained perfectly still, enjoying the sensation of a warm, shapely female in his arms. It was a rare moment for him as it had been a very long time since he’d been in a position to hold a woman.
Amanda Wright was nothing like he had expected her to be. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but she’d been far more likeable and with a soft vulnerability that had surprised him. She was more like a beautiful playful puppy dog than a femme fatale.
Was her reputation overblown? Possibly. It was easy to be labeled in a small town, although she’d admitted she could be provocative in keeping with her role as the bad girl.
It had been obvious she loved her father and longed for a better relationship with him. A tight ball of tension filled his chest as he thought of his own father.
It had been Cass who had tried to make him understand that his father’s brutality and inability to love was his fault and not Brody’s. Still, Brody knew himself to be dangerous damaged goods, and that was why he would never marry or have children. He was a bad risk for any woman.
A distant growl of a snowblower replaced the silence of the room. He quickly rolled away from Mandy and stood, grateful that she didn’t awaken.
The last thing he wanted her to know was that in sleep he had cuddled with her. It had been bad enough last night when they’d talked and he’d tried so hard to keep his gaze away from her creamy naked shoulders and the spill of her long, dark, slightly wavy hair. He’d been on a slow burn for most of the night.
He raked a hand through his hair and walked over to the window. Moving one of the heavy blue curtains aside just a bit, he peered out.
The sun shone bright on the snow that had fallen the night before. There was less snow than he’d anticipated. Still, the ground was covered by about three to four inches of the white stuff.
Fred Ferguson manned the snowblower and was in the process of clearing off the walkways. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before Larry Jerrod called to say his team was on their way to pull Mandy and him out of the ditch.
In the meantime there was a coffee machine next to the sink and he definitely needed a jolt of caffeine to clear his head. Within minutes the scent of the fresh brew filled the room.
He’d just poured himself a cup and sat in the spindly chair near the window when Mandy stirred. She stretched like a contented kitten and then offered him a sleepy smile. “We survived,” she said, her voice slightly husky.
“We did,” he agreed. He stood and opened the curtains, hoping to get her out of the bed. She was far too much of a temptation in the bed, wearing that damned Santa costume that showcased her full breasts, small waist and long, shapely legs.
He heard the rustle of the sheets, and when he turned back around she was up and at the sink, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Hell, she was a temptation out of bed, as well.
She walked over and joined him at the window. “It looks a lot better out there this morning than it did last night.”
“I’m hoping it won’t be long before we can get on our way.”
“I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to the ranch. Thank goodness today is my day off at the café so all I have to do is get home.” A tiny frown danced across her forehead. “I guess I should probably call my dad.”
She set her cup down, went over to the nightstand and dug in her purse. She retrieved her cell phone and then sat on the edge of the bed and punched in numbers. She turned slightly to face away from him. “Dad, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m waiting for a tow. I slid into a ditch last night and had to stay at the motel.”
Brody wasn’t trying to listen in, but although he couldn’t make out her father’s specific words, he certainly heard the loud, rough tone.
“Yeah, Dad, I know it was stupid of me to wind up in a ditch and I’m sorry you had to make your own dinner last night. I’ll make it all up to you when I get home. I’ll fix you a terrific breakfast.”
Apparently her father hung up on her. She dropped her phone back into the depths of her purse and then turned and gave Brody a sheepish smile. “He isn’t much of a morning person.”
Brody had a feeling George Wright wasn’t much of a noon or night person, either. From what little gossip he’d heard about George, the man was a drunk who had more enemies than he had friends.
“What are you planning to make for breakfast?” he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Her thick-lashed, caramel-colored eyes took on a sparkle and her lips curved into a smile. “I make this great peach French toast casserole with pecans and lots of cream and spices.”
“Hmm, sounds good.”
“Want to come over for breakfast?” she asked eagerly. “You know, just as a friend.”
Brody cast his gaze back out the window. “I don’t think this morning would be a good time.”
“Well, of course it wouldn’t,” she replied agreeably. “I can be such a dunce sometimes.”
At that moment Brody’s phone rang. It was Larry telling him that he’d be at their cars within fifteen minutes. When the brief call ended they both abandoned their coffee cups for their coats and then stepped outside for the trek to their vehicles.
“Whew, it’s still cold out here,” Mandy said and pulled her coat collar up closer around her neck.
“Wait here,” Brody told her. “I’ll be right back.” Before they left here there was one thing he wanted to do. He approached Fred Ferguson, who cut the engine on the snowblower.
“You taking off?” he asked.
“We are,” Brody replied. “I just wanted to tell you that if I hear any gossip about Mandy and me spending the night together I’ll hold you personally responsible.”
“You know I’m not a gossip,” Fred blustered, his eyes wide behind his dark-rimmed glasses.
Brody knew no such thing. In fact, Fred loved to indulge himself in juicy gossip. “I’m just giving you a heads-up.” As he returned to Mandy, the snowblower roared back to life. The last thing he wanted was for the night to further stain Mandy’s reputation.
“Ready?” he asked Mandy when he reached her.
“Ready,” she replied.
The ground was still slippery and Mandy’s little boots were about as useful as a pig in a poker game. He took her by the arm and she leaned into him as they trudged forward.
When they finally reached her car, he released his hold on her. She peered up at him. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
“Right,” he agreed easily.
“Thank you, Brody.”
“For what?”
Those winsome eyes of hers gazed at him intently. “Thank you for being nice to me and for being such a gentleman.”
Thank God she hadn’t been privy to his lustful thoughts throughout their time together. “It was no problem,” he replied easily.
Once again her eyes sparkled with liveliness. “Hey, maybe we should exchange phone numbers. It would be nice to be able to talk to each other occasionally.”
He couldn’t very well say no to her, not with her lips curved into such a wide smile, not with her eyes gleaming so brightly. It took only a minute for them to put their numbers into each other’s cell phones, and then he encouraged her to get into her car and warm it up.
He climbed into his truck and looked down at her number in his phone. Would he ever call her? It was doubtful. She was a temptation he definitely didn’t need in his life.
He was just grateful their night together was over and he could get back to his solitary life, where he could work hard and sleep without dreams.
Since Cass had died in the spring storm, there was really only one woman he now believed in, and he saw her about once a week. He trusted her with the secret that had haunted him for years, and she was the only woman he’d ever allow to have a place in his life.
Chapter 3 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
“Hey, handsome,” Mandy greeted Sawyer Quincy with a smile. The copper-haired cowboy was from the Holiday Ranch. “What are you doing in here for lunch all by yourself?”
He swept off his brown cowboy hat and placed it on his lap. “I came in to pick up some supplies and got a hankering for some of Daisy’s chicken noodle soup,” he replied. “How are you doing, Mandy?”
“Good, especially since some of the snow has finally melted. I’m getting off early today and I’m planning on spending the whole evening drifting from store to store and doing some Christmas shopping.”
“That sounds like fun for you,” he replied.
“How about a couple of thick slices of Daisy’s homemade bread with butter to go along with that soup?” she asked.
“That sounds great...and a cup of coffee.”
“Got it,” Mandy wrote on the order pad and then turned to head to the kitchen pass to turn in the ticket.
It had been three days since the overnight snowstorm, and during those days the temperatures had crept above freezing and the sun had shone, making muddy soup out of the snow and ice.
The café was busy. It was as if everyone in Bitterroot had decided it was time to get out of their house to have lunch.
She placed the ticket, poured Sawyer his coffee and then turned in time to see Fred Ferguson being seated at one of her tables. He offered her a small scowl as she approached the table.
“Afternoon, Fred,” she greeted him brightly. “What can I start you off with to drink?”
“Before I order anything, I just want to say I didn’t appreciate your boyfriend threatening me the other morning.”
She looked at him in surprise. “Brody? He isn’t my boyfriend, and what did he threaten you about?”
“He told me if he heard any idle gossip about you and him being in that room together for the night he’d consider me personally responsible. I don’t gossip about what goes on in my motel and I definitely don’t need a big, burly cowboy trying to intimidate me. Now, I’d like to start off with a cup of coffee and then I’ll take the special of the day.”
“Got it,” Mandy replied. She left the table with her thoughts whirling. Why had Brody talked to Fred about keeping their night together a secret?
Had he been trying to somehow protect her reputation? That was almost laughable. Maybe he’d been attempting to protect his own.
This thought hurt more than a little bit, especially considering the fact that the night before she’d called him just to chat for a few minutes and they’d wound up talking for almost half an hour.
It had been nice to have the sound of his deep voice still ringing in her head when she’d finally drifted off to sleep. She now shoved thoughts of Brody away as she hurried to deliver food and take more orders.
She’d worked as a bank clerk until just after Cassie’s barn party. She suspected she’d been let go because she’d worn a red, white and blue sparkly bra to the party. It had been a costume party and she’d gone as a patriot superheroine. The president of the bank, Margery Martin, had not found it amusing.
Mandy’s termination had wound up being a godsend. She belonged working with food. Right now she just delivered it up, but she was hoping she could work her way up to Daisy allowing her to be in the kitchen and then one day owning her own place.
She put every tip in jelly jars under her bed and hoped eventually to have enough to start her own restaurant. What she envisioned wouldn’t compete with Daisy’s café. She’d like to open another café, but knew the competition with Daisy wouldn’t be good. She might decide to open a restaurant that offered more of a fine dining experience.
A dream. That was all it was right now, along with her dream of eventually finding her prince. In the meantime there were orders to be taken and diners to be served.
It was just after six when she went into the back room and took off her apron. She was looking forward to an evening of wandering through the stores and looking at Christmas goodies.
Since her phone call with Brody the night before, she’d wondered what might be good friend etiquette. Would it be too forward for her to buy him a little gift? And if she did, what on earth would it be?
She pulled on her coat, left the back room and headed toward the café’s front door. “Don’t spend too much money on a Christmas gift for me,” Daisy said with amusement. “I’ve got everything I want except a husband and I’m not sure I want another one of those.”
Mandy laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “I’ll see you at eleven tomorrow.”
“Enjoy your night,” Daisy called after her.
Mandy left the café. It had been an exhausting day and her feet were killing her, but the cold night air and the sight of the cheery red and green lights filled her with a new burst of energy.
It would be nice to have company while she shopped, but she was accustomed to being alone when she wasn’t dating anyone. At the moment she didn’t even feel like dating.
At least she’d taken care of her father’s dinner. Last night she’d made chicken and dumplings and there had been enough leftovers for him to warm himself up a plate this evening.
She had nothing on her mind as she headed for the mercantile store. She went inside, and a bell tinkled merrily overhead. The store smelled of spiced apple candles and evergreens and a variety of scents that spoke of the holiday. She drew in a deep breath. Christmas carols played softly from someplace overhead and Mandy was immersed in the holiday.
The mercantile store always dedicated shelf space not only for Christmas decorations but also for all kinds of gift sets and items that never appeared any other time of year.
She knew her father wouldn’t buy her anything. He even refused to have a tree put up in his house. But tonight Mandy intended to go home to her own apartment and put up and decorate the three-foot tabletop tree she’d gotten a couple of years ago.
She always bought a Christmas present for her mother and her brother. She’d wrap them and put them under her tree, and then a couple of days before Christmas she donated them to charity.
While they were under her tree she’d remember her love for her mother and her older brother, and she’d mourn the fact that her family had fallen apart when Regina Wright had passed away after battling cancer.
She rounded an aisle with her shopping cart and nearly bumped into Dillon Bowie and Cassie Peterson. “Hey, guys. Christmas shopping?”
“Just getting some ideas,” Cassie replied. She leaned into Dillon with a happy smile. “He won’t tell me what he wants, so I’m trying to find out if anything we see sparks his interest.”
“So far she’s told me at least a dozen things that she’d like to have,” Dillon replied with a teasing grin at the petite blonde next to him. “Besides, I keep telling her that I’ve got all I want. I have her.”
“Ah, that’s so sweet,” Mandy replied. Dillon and Cassie were the newest happy couple in Bitterroot. Through all the drama that had taken place at the Holiday Ranch, they had come together in love. Mandy thought it was all wildly romantic.
“Thank goodness most of the snow is gone,” Cassie said.
“It definitely makes it easier to get around,” Mandy replied.
“How’s the kissing booth going?” Cassie asked.
“I think once it’s over Seth is going to be pleased with the money raised,” Mandy replied. “We have some generous people in this town.”
“Bitterroot has always been a charitable town,” Cassie agreed.
The three of them visited for just a few more minutes and then Mandy continued her quest for perfect Christmas gifts. By the time she made her way home, she’d bought a beautiful eternity scarf for her mother, a bottle of cologne for her brother and a black leather wallet for her father. He’d probably hate it, but at least she’d tried.
She’d also picked up a pair of earrings in the shape of reindeer that lit up for Daisy. The flamboyant café owner would get a hoot out of them. With Mandy’s packages in a large shopping bag, she headed home.
The studio apartment above the detached garage had originally been rented out to make extra money, but four years ago the last tenant had moved out and Mandy had convinced her father to rent it to her.
It wasn’t huge, but there was a living room space with a sofa, a chair and a small kitchenette. There was still enough room left over for her queen-size bed shoved against a wall, a dresser and the bathroom.
The Wright ranch was relatively large, with lots of good pasture and a wooded area with beautiful shade trees. But it had been years since her father had actually worked the ranch. Now he preferred either sitting in his recliner and complaining about his life, or heading to the Watering Hole, where he could try to drink away those complaints.
As she prepared to wrap the silky scarf in shiny silver paper, her thoughts turned to her mother. Mandy had only a few memories of the woman who had given birth to her, and all of them were pleasant ones. Her mother had loved music and often sang as she cleaned or cooked. She had also been a beautiful woman and Mandy had been told by people in town that she looked just like her.
Her brother, Graham, had been a terrific big brother until the day he’d left. At first she’d thought he’d come back to get her, but she’d given up on that belief years ago.
By nine o’clock the tree was up on a small table in the living room area and all the presents were wrapped and under the tree. She sat on the sofa for a few minutes and admired the way the little white lights shone on the silver-and-red ornaments.
Christmas could be a little depressing for her since most of the time she celebrated alone. But she always tried to focus on positive things to keep the blues away.
With the tree up and the presents wrapped, she ate a chicken salad sandwich and changed into her pajamas. Finally she got into bed with her cell phone and considered calling Brody.
It would be nice to end the pleasant night as she had the night before, with Brody’s deep voice the last sound she heard before falling asleep. She decided not to call him. She didn’t want to seem too forward and wind up pushing him away.
She slept without dreams and awakened to the sound of her alarm. It was six fifteen. She would have loved to linger in bed, but her father was usually an early riser and liked his breakfast around seven.
She showered and dressed in the yellow T-shirt and black slacks that were her café uniform, then grabbed her purse and headed toward the big two-story house in the distance.
Over the past couple of years she’d tried to convince her father to sell the ranch and move closer to town. He didn’t need the land or the huge house, but he’d refused to consider it. She’d thought about moving into an apartment in town but knew her father depended on her rent money to help pay the bills.
The eastern sky was just starting to light as she unlocked the back door and stepped into the large kitchen. The sound of the television drifting in from the living room let her know her father was already up.
She shrugged off her coat and hung it on the back of a chair at the table, then moved to the coffee maker on the counter. Before greeting him she needed to get the coffee going. George Wright without his morning coffee was definitely an irritable bear.
As she waited, she looked around the kitchen, remembering the old days when they sat at the table as a family, the old days when her mother had been alive and Graham had been home.
When there was enough fresh brew, she filled a cup and left the kitchen. “Morning, Dad,” she said cheerfully as she entered the living room.
She could see the back of his head above the black leather recliner chair that faced the television, but he didn’t answer her.
Great, he wasn’t speaking to her...again. He was probably mad at her for going shopping the night before and leaving him to warm up his own dinner.
“Dad?” She rounded the chair and froze in horror.
Her father’s brown eyes stared blankly forward. His slashed throat gaped wide and blood had splashed down the front of him. There was no question that he was dead.
“No.” The cup of coffee slipped from her hand and crashed to the hardwood floor as a scream released from her.
* * *
Brody lingered over a cup of coffee in the cowboy dining room, listening as Sawyer and Mac McBride discussed the weather and the forecast for a dryer winter than usual.
If it had been springtime the men would already be out of here and doing morning chores in the field, but in winter the schedule was far more lax.
Aside from providing feed and water for the cattle and taking care of the horses, they spent most of their time repairing and maintaining equipment.
He tuned out their conversation and instead found himself thinking about Mandy. He’d been surprised when she’d called him two nights before just to chat. Brody didn’t just “chat” with anyone, but he’d found it impossible to remain stoic and distant with her. She was so bubbly and happy, and he found her remarkably easy to talk to.
They’d discussed the people they knew and their love of the small town of Bitterroot. He’d told her about the latest movie he’d seen and she talked about how many people loved ketchup on their scrambled eggs.
“Earth to Brody,” Sawyer said, pulling Brody out of his thoughts.
“Sorry. What did you say?” Brody asked.
“We want you to talk to Cassie about putting up a new shed first thing in the spring,” Mac said.
“You know we had plans to replace the old one when we pulled down the storm-damaged one, but discovering those skeletons put everything on hold,” Sawyer added. “And as you also know, we need the extra storage space.”
“We can’t do anything before spring, but I’ll mention it to her,” Brody replied at the same time his cell phone rang.
He frowned and dug it out of his pocket, surprised to see Mandy’s number. Why would she be calling him this early in the morning? He didn’t mind her calling him occasionally, but not during work hours. He excused himself, got up and walked away from the men at the table. He then answered.
“Brody, my father is dead.” Her voice exploded over the line, a combination of horror and tears. “He’s...he’s in his chair and somebody murdered him...they slashed his throat and...and blood...there’s so much blood.”
Every muscle in his body tensed. “Mandy, have you called Dillon?”
“I... No, not yet.” There was a long moment of her weeping.
“Mandy, call Dillon and when he arrives, don’t say anything to anyone and don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.” Brody hung up and hurried over to Sawyer and Mac. “I’m heading out and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“What’s going on?” Sawyer asked.
“Mandy Wright’s father has been murdered.” Brody didn’t waste time saying another word. He hurried out the door and ran to the shed that held the cowboys’ personal vehicles.
The cold air was biting, but not as cold as the thoughts that flew through his head. George Wright murdered? There was no way in hell Brody believed Mandy was responsible for her father’s death.
Others would say she had opportunity and some would believe she had motive. Brody certainly wasn’t a lawyer, but she would be the first suspect unless the killer had left a specific calling card.
He knew what it was like to be a suspect. He and all the other men who worked the Holiday Ranch had been suspects first in the seven murders that had taken place so long ago and then more recently when one of their own ranch hands had been murdered. It was easy to appear guilty of a crime even if you had nothing to do with it.
He drove like a bat out of hell, the sound of Mandy’s horrified weeping echoing in his head. He never wanted to hear another woman crying with that kind of pain and terror.
Terror... Oh God, was the murderer still in the house with her? Was she in danger right now? Damn, he should have told her to get out of the house.
He slowed long enough to turn in to the long driveway that led to the Wright home. The morning sun shone bright on the white paint of the two-story house.
He recognized both George’s and Mandy’s cars and realized he had beaten Dillon and his men to the scene of the crime. He parked and hurried out of the truck. He raced to the front door and knocked. It opened and Mandy flew into his arms.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck as deep sobs wrenched through her. He held her tight and stroked her back in an effort to calm her.
“It’s going to be okay, Mandy,” he murmured.
“No, it’s not,” she cried. “He’s gone and now I’ll never have the chance to have a better relationship with him. Nothing is ever going to be okay again.” She cried even harder and there was nothing Brody could do to comfort her other than hold her while she wept.
He was still holding her when Chief of Police Dillon Bowie arrived along with two other patrol cars and three of his men. As they parked and then approached the house, Brody finally released Mandy.
“Brody,” Dillon greeted him with a touch of surprise in his gray eyes and then turned toward Mandy. “Where is he?”
“In the family room,” Mandy replied and began to cry again.
The four men went into the house, and Brody led Mandy through the small living room and into the kitchen. “Sit,” he said and gently pushed her down into one of the chairs at the table.
He noticed the nearly full coffeepot on the counter and searched the cabinets until he found two mugs. He poured them each a cup and then sat next to her.
Tears clung to her long lashes as she wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug. “I don’t believe this is happening.” She gazed up at him, her eyes dark and pain-filled. “Please tell me this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and everything will be fine.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he replied with a gentleness he hadn’t even known he possessed.
She stared down into the mug for several long minutes. The only sounds in the room were the low male voices drifting in from the family room.
“Tell me what you did last night.”
Once again she looked up at him, this time with a tiny frown line etched across her brow. “I worked at the café until about six and then went shopping. I got home about eight, wrapped some presents and went to bed.”
“Alone?”
He regretted the question the minute it left his lips. A flash of new pain radiated from her eyes. “Yes, alone,” she replied curtly.
At that moment Dillon walked into the kitchen. “Mandy, I’m so sorry for your loss. We’re waiting now for Teddy to arrive. In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?” Teddy was Ted Lymon, the medical examiner.
Mandy nodded and Dillon sat in the chair opposite her. “Why would somebody do that to my father? Who would do something like this?” she asked, the words laced with pain.
“That’s what I’m going to try to figure out,” Dillon replied. “Tell me exactly what happened this morning.”
Mandy’s pale face and shaking fingers spoke of her despair as she told Dillon about getting up that morning, dressing and then coming into the house to fix her father breakfast.
“Were any of the doors unlocked?” he asked.
“I know the front door wasn’t because I used my key to get in, and I can see from here that the back door is still locked,” she replied.
“I’ve got Ben looking at all the windows to check if entry was gained through one of them,” Dillon said.
“Do you have an idea of the time of death?” Brody asked.
“Teddy will have to make the official call, but I’d guess sometime in the middle of the night,” Dillon replied. “Which brings me to my next question. I know you were shopping yesterday evening, but what did you do after that?”
“I came home and wrapped some presents...” she began.
“And then I came over and spent the night with her.” Brody was grateful Mandy didn’t look as surprised as he felt as the alibi fell from his lips.
Jeez, what had he just done?
Chapter 4 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
The next four days went by in a haze for Mandy. She made her father’s funeral arrangements and kept in close touch with Dillon about the progress of the investigation. She didn’t know how she would have gotten through it all without Brody as a calm and steady presence beside her.
She’d been shocked when he’d told Dillon that he’d been with her on the night of her father’s murder. He’d gone even further and told the lawman to check with Fred Ferguson, who would attest to the fact that he and Mandy had also been together on the night of the snowstorm.
She now stood at the front door of the house, waiting for Brody to pick her up for the funeral. It was a beautiful afternoon in the midforties. The sun shone brightly and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Grief had also been a big part of the time that had passed since her father’s murder. She wasn’t sure she grieved for the man himself as much as for the relationship she’d wanted—she’d needed—from him and now would have no opportunity to ever gain.
There were still so many things she had to take care of. She’d been shocked to learn her father had a will on file with an attorney in town and he’d left her everything. In the event of her death her brother would be the beneficiary of what little estate there might be.
Brody had advised her not to make any decisions about things until she’d given herself time to fully grieve, but she’d already decided to clear out the house and put it on the market to sell. She would move to someplace in town, maybe a small house where she could build a life that didn’t include the memories of a father who had been so hateful, a man she’d desperately wanted to love her.
She had no idea how many people might attend the funeral this afternoon. She’d been shocked in the last couple of days to realize how many people disliked her father. She knew how he’d treated her, but she hadn’t known that he’d carried that same hateful attitude outside the house.
As Brody’s truck came up the lane toward the house, she couldn’t help the way her heart beat just a little faster. Although he hadn’t touched her in any way since the day she’d discovered her father dead, he’d been the best kind of friend she could ever ask for, and surely that was why her heart quickened at the sight of him.
She turned and hurried to the kitchen to retrieve her purse from the table. By the time she returned to the front door, he was out of his truck and approaching the porch.
Brody Booth in jeans and a flannel shirt was sexy, but Brody in a dark suit coat and slacks was off the charts. She stepped out on the porch, then closed and locked the door behind her.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked as they walked to his truck.
“I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to be. At least I’ve finally stopped crying all the time.”
He opened the passenger door and she slid inside. The truck interior smelled like him...the pleasant scents of sunshine and the outdoors and his woodsy cologne.
“What have you heard from Dillon?” he asked once he was in the truck and had started the engine.
“He called me last night to ask if I knew anything about a pushing and shoving fight my father had last Saturday night at the Watering Hole.”
“Who was he pushing and shoving with?”
“Lloyd Green. Apparently Dad owed Lloyd some money and Lloyd tried to collect.”
“So, did Dillon say that Lloyd was a suspect in the case?”
“Dillon seems to be playing things close to the vest, but I would assume Lloyd is a suspect.” Lloyd worked for Raymond Humes, but that was about all she knew about the older man.
They fell silent and she stared out the window at the barren winter landscape. What would happen after today? When the ceremony was over, would Brody go his own way?
He hadn’t exactly signed up for all this. Of course, when he’d offered up the alibi to Dillon, he had to have known that he’d bound them together, at least for a little while.
She was shocked by the new piercing pain that shot through her as she thought of going on without Brody in her life. She’d felt so alone before the night of the snowstorm and his friendship was definitely what was helping her get through these horrible, difficult days.
As he turned in to the Bitterroot Cemetery entrance, she was surprised to see a number of cars parked in the lot. There had been no visitation so this was the one and only opportunity people would have to say a final goodbye to George Wright.
They got out of the truck and were greeted by Dillon and Cassie. “Mandy, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Cassie said and took one of Mandy’s hands in hers.
The warmth and compassion in her voice made tears spring to Mandy’s eyes. “Thank you, Cassie.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Cassie added as she released Mandy’s hand.
Mandy looked at Dillon. “All anyone can do for me now is to help catch the person who’s responsible for my father’s murder.”
“The investigation is ongoing,” he replied.
Julia Hatfield, a waitress at the café, hurried over and pulled Mandy into a tight hug. “Oh, honey, I can’t stay long because I have a shift in a little while, but I wanted you to know I’m so sorry, and you come to me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Julia,” Mandy replied.
Reverend Wally Johnson walked toward them all, his expression somber and fitting the occasion. “Are we ready to begin?”
Mandy drew in a deep breath and released it, then nodded. It was a bit of a walk to the actual gravesite. Mandy, Brody and Wally led the small crowd over the top of a small rise and then to the place where Mandy’s mother rested.
George would be happy resting next to the woman he’d loved. When she’d died she’d taken so much of what little goodness he’d had with her.
They were trailed by several neighbors, a couple of waitresses from the café, Butch Cooper and two men from the Humes ranch.
Mandy assumed the Humes men might have been her father’s drinking buddies. At least Lloyd Green wasn’t here. Still, her father probably would have opened the door to Lloyd. Heck, her father would have opened the door to most anyone he knew on the night of his murder. There had been no signs of a break-in or robbery and no hard evidence that anyone had been in the house. The killer must have relocked whatever door he’d entered when he was finished slashing her father’s throat.
She glanced up at Brody, so tall and stoic next to her. His very presence helped to calm the tension that had balled up tight in her stomach.
This was it. This was so final. She was now an orphan and she would never, ever be able to get the kind of relationship she’d longed for with her father.
She’d thought she’d cried all the tears in her body, but she’d been wrong. The moment Wally began to speak, tears chased each other down her cheeks.
She would have broken down altogether had Brody not reached out and took her hand in his. The warmth of his hand around hers, the silent support he offered were enough to keep her somewhat in check.
The official ceremony didn’t take long. There were no good friends to speak of George in glowing terms and Mandy had declined to speak. When it was over, she told everyone that they were welcome at the house, where sandwiches would be served.
She didn’t expect anyone to come. Most of these people who had come had done so to show support for her, which she appreciated.
They were about to leave when Aaron Blair and his wife, Sadie, walked over to the two of them. Aaron was a big man with dark hair, and his wife was a willowy blonde who looked as if she could use a good meal. They owned the ranch next to the Wright place, but Mandy barely knew them.
“Brody... Mandy,” Aaron greeted them. “Mandy, I’d tell you I was sorry for your loss, but your father was a mean, spiteful man who nobody will miss.”
Mandy took a step backward in stunned shock. “Aaron,” his wife replied in surprise.
“Well, it’s the truth,” Aaron said firmly, raising his square jaw. “George accused me of stealing land from him for years. He accused me of putting up my fencing three feet on his property despite the three surveys I paid for to prove him wrong. He was nothing more than a miserable bastard.”
“And I think that’s enough,” Brody replied in a stern voice. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to air your grievances.”
“Come on, Aaron. Let’s go home,” Sadie said. She jerked on her husband’s arm and the two of them headed away from the gravesite.
“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Brody said softly.
Grief once again tightened Mandy’s throat. “It doesn’t matter if my dad was mean or not. He still didn’t deserve to have his throat cut while sitting in his recliner chair in his own home.” She swallowed hard against the emotion that rose up in the back of her throat.
“I just hope Dillon is aware of the bad blood between your father and Aaron,” Brody replied.
She looked at him in surprise. “Surely you don’t think Aaron had anything to do with the murder. I can’t imagine it.”
“None of us could imagine Adam being a serial killer,” he reminded her. He looped his arm through hers. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Together they headed back toward the parking area, but before they got there a man appeared in the distance. Mandy froze at the sight of him.
Was it? Could it be?
She pulled her arm from Brody’s, every muscle in her body tensed. “Graham?” The name whispered from her.
As he drew closer and smiled at her, joy exploded in her heart. “Graham!”
She ran toward her brother, half laughing and half crying. She had no idea how he had heard about their father’s murder. She didn’t care where he had come from. The only thing that mattered was that he was here now.
* * *
Brody didn’t like him. He stood in the kitchen with Daisy, who had arrived only moments before with sandwiches, potato salad and baked beans.
Mandy was in the living room, catching up with her brother, and it had taken Brody about two minutes to realize he didn’t particularly like and he damned straight didn’t trust Graham Wright.
There was no overt reason for his dislike or distrust of the man, other than he’d appeared out of nowhere after being gone for years. It was just a gut instinct that was hard to deny.
About ten people had come back to the house following the funeral, including Dillon and Cassie. They were also in the family room, and Brody hoped Dillon was not only visiting with Graham but also interrogating him as to his whereabouts when George had been murdered.
“Darn, I left the tossed salad out in my car,” Daisy said.
“Need some help?” Brody asked.
“Nah, I’ll go get it.” She left the kitchen by the back door, and at the same time Butch Cooper came in from the family room.
“Hey, Brody,” he said and picked up one of the paper plates. “These look good.” He grabbed two of the half sandwiches and put them on his plate.
“Daisy doesn’t make bad food,” he replied. “Even her sandwiches taste better than any I’ve ever eaten.”
Butch nodded and stepped closer to him. “What do you think about the prodigal son’s return?”
Brody glanced toward Graham and then looked back at Butch. “The verdict is still out.”
Butch nodded. “Yeah, mine, too. Mandy sure is happy to see him.”
“I know she’s missed him for a very long time.” Over the last couple of days Mandy had spoken often about her childhood memories of her brother. She’d believed she would never see him again.
Butch stared down at his plate for a moment and then looked back up. “I’m glad she has you.”
There was a softness in the big cowboy’s eyes. Brody stared at him. “Does she know you’re in love with her?” he asked.
Butch looked as if he might protest and then smiled with a shrug of his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter whether she knows it or not. According to her I’m just an ordinary toad and not the prince she’s waiting for. It’s easy to be crazy about Mandy, but all I want for her is happiness, and right now you seem to be making her happy.”
Brody didn’t have a chance to tell Butch that it wasn’t like that, for at that moment Daisy flew back into the kitchen carrying a large salad bowl. “Here we go,” she said.
As Butch continued to fill his plate, Brody moved to the doorway between the kitchen and the family room. The recliner chair where George had been killed had been moved out after Dillon released the house as a crime scene.
Dillon and Cassie sat in straight-backed chairs and Mandy and Graham sat next to each other on the sofa. Graham was telling them about his life in Texas, where he worked as an accountant for a large financial firm.
“I’d stayed in touch with Zeke Osmond over the years, and he called me the minute he heard that my dad was dead,” Graham said, a fact that didn’t do anything to endear the man to Brody. Zeke worked for Raymond Humes and had long been suspected of being part of the nuisance fires, the stolen cattle and other crimes that had taken place on the Holiday Ranch.
“I can’t believe Zeke knew where you were all this time and didn’t tell me,” Mandy replied.
“I asked him to keep it a secret until I felt like it was time to come back here and see Dad and you in person,” Graham replied.
Mandy’s eyes sparkled and despite the somber black dress she wore, she looked beautiful. The last few days had been more difficult for him than he’d ever expected.
While Mandy had grieved, he had lusted. The scent of her stirred him like no other, and no matter what she wore he found her sexy as hell. This wasn’t the way a friendship was supposed to work.
The minute he’d provided her an alibi to Dillon, Brody had known that he’d thrown himself into a relationship with her, at least until her father’s murder was solved.
Maybe now that Graham was back in her life Mandy wouldn’t care if Brody distanced himself from her. Maybe she’d stop calling him late in the evenings just to say good-night. This might be his opportunity to step away from her.
And he needed to step away from her. He’d started looking forward to her good-night calls. He dreamed of capturing her lips with his, of stroking her naked curves and more. He didn’t want or need anyone in his life, especially a woman who was looking for her prince. He was definitely no prince.
“Where were you on the night your father was murdered?” Dillon leaned forward in his chair.
Graham smiled. He had a smile just like Mandy’s...wide and warm. “I was at a company Christmas party. I’ll be happy to give you names of people who were there with me and will corroborate that I attended.”
“And after the party ended?” Dillon’s expression was pleasant enough but his gray eyes were hard and cold. Those same cold eyes had been directed at Brody when Dillon believed one of the Holiday Ranch cowboys was guilty of murder.
“The party didn’t break up until after one or so and then I went to my fiancée’s apartment and spent the night there,” Graham replied.
“I can’t believe you’d think he’s guilty of anything,” Mandy said to Dillon with a touch of outrage.
“Honey, now isn’t the time or the place,” Cassie said softly to Dillon.
“Of course,” Dillon replied and sat back in his chair. “But I would like to speak to you later,” he added to Graham.
“I’ll be glad to,” Graham replied.
Butch and some of the others left and eventually everyone else got up, filled a plate and found places to sit at the table. The talk turned to what Mandy intended to do with the property.
“I need to clean out everything. I’ll donate Dad’s clothes and the furniture, and then I’m going to sell.” She looked at her brother seated next to her. “I’ll split everything fifty-fifty with you, Graham.”
“I don’t need your money, Mandy,” he replied. “I’ve done pretty well for myself. Besides, that’s not why I came back here.”
“Why did you come back?” The words blurted out of Brody.
Graham frowned. “I came back because not a day went by that I didn’t think about my little sister.” He gazed at Mandy. “I was always sorry that I left you behind, but we were both so young.” He looked at Brody. “When I heard about the murder, I knew I needed to see Mandy and make sure she was okay.”
Mandy reached across the table and grabbed one of his hands. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters other than you’re here now.”
“I’m here until just after the first of the year, and then I need to get back to my job and my life in Dallas,” he replied.
“And I can’t wait to hear all about your life in Dallas,” Mandy replied.
Brody glanced at his watch. The day was fading away and he needed to leave. He had someplace he had to be in thirty minutes.
“Mandy, I need to head out,” he said.
She jumped up from the table. “Okay, I’ll walk you out.”
She grabbed her coat from the hall tree and shrugged it on. Together they walked out into the fading light of day. “Brody, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done to support me over the last couple of days.”
“It was my pleasure,” he replied.
“I really don’t know what I would have done without you.” They reached his truck’s driver’s door and she gazed up at him with her gorgeous dark-lashed eyes. “You aren’t going to stop being my friend just because I have a brother now, are you?”
Although that was exactly what he’d intended to do, there was no way he could look into her soulful eyes and tell her that...especially not today of all days. “Of course not,” he replied.
She grinned, suddenly threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips firmly against his cheek. His body immediately responded to her body so close to his and to the warmth of her lips against his skin.
“What’s that for?” he asked gruffly as she released her hold on him.
“That’s for being the best friend I could ever ask for,” she replied. “I’ll call you later?”
“Sounds good,” he said.
He watched while she hurried back into the house. Adrenaline still whipped through him. He needed to lift a car or cut down a tree or do something physical to rid himself of the unwanted surge of desire inside him.
He got into his truck and pulled away from the Wright place, grateful that he was on his way to spend some time with Ellie.
Chapter 5 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
Mandy released a sigh that blew a strand of hair away from her face. She placed a box of books next to the doorway in her father’s bedroom and then looked up at her brother, who was emptying dresser drawers.
“I think we need to take a break,” she said. They had been working nonstop for the past two hours, ever since Mandy had gotten off work at the café.
Graham stopped working and sank down on the edge of the bed. “The last time I was in this room it was Mother’s sewing room,” he said.
“Dad moved down here about a month after you left. I think he couldn’t stand being in the master bedroom upstairs without Mom.”
She scanned the small room. “At least we’ve made some progress tonight.”
“Actually, I’m going to take off in just a few minutes. It’s getting late and I’m supposed to meet Zack and a couple of other guys at the Watering Hole for drinks in about fifteen minutes.”
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Carla Cassidy
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: A rugged rancher to depend on!A man who keeps his secrets to himself, rancher Brody Booth is used to life being tough. The last thing he expects is for a beautiful woman to come his way and Mandy Wright′s as unpredictable as the snowstorm that traps them together.Mandy is independent and trusts no one. When it comes to relationships, she′s always the first to walk away. Letting Brody close enough to protect her from a killer feels strange – and thrilling. Having feelings for him is risky. Can she find a way to outrun danger and fall in love?