had begun to fall in fat, sporadic drops. If they were lucky, it wouldn’t begin turning to snow before they reached their destination.
Jane broke the silence a couple of minutes later. “Were you in love with me?”
Joe tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He had figured this question would come sooner or later, once it became clear she was beginning to remember things about her life before Idaho. He’d just thought he’d have more time to think about it.
“I thought I was,” he admitted.
Just before his brother’s murder, he’d been thinking about asking her to marry him. It had been a big step, emotionally, to let himself think in terms of forever again. His first thirty-odd years hadn’t exactly taught him to believe anything could last a lifetime.
But the woman he’d known as Sandra Dorsey had seemed to understand him. She’d appreciated his love of the land, had been patient with his emotional reserve. Time and again, she’d shown pluck and grit, two traits he admired. She’d been a good friend to Tommy and a tender, passionate lover to Joe. He’d wanted to believe that the secrets he saw in her eyes couldn’t hurt them.
But they had.
“Did I love you?” she asked.
“You seemed to.”
“But I’d told so many lies.” Regret tinted her voice.
“Yeah. You had.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Despite the dangerous circumstances-or perhaps because of them-being with her again had reminded him of everything that had attracted him to her the first time around. Her tough-mindedness. Her quick wit. Her kind heart.
“How far to Canyon Creek?” Jane asked.
“Another hour.” The ranching town nestled in a grassy valley southeast of Grand Teton National Park. Almost everyone in the area raised some sort of livestock-horses, cattle, some sheep. Many of the working ranches surrounding the town had added guest-ranch facilities for tourists looking for the authentic cowboy experience.
“We’re not going to your place, are we?”
“Not unless we want to get caught.” He eyed the thickening clouds overhead. “We’re going to see Canyon Creek’s deputy chief of police.”
“ARE YOU sure we can trust him?” Jane asked as she huddled close to Joe for warmth. The wind had picked up, swirling under Jane’s collar and dotting her flesh with goose bumps, but luckily, the rain had held off so far, leaving them cold but dry on the walk to Riley Patterson’s sprawling ranch house from where they’d hidden the rental car in the woods a half mile down the road.
“With our lives.” Joe slid the key into the backdoor lock and let them into the kitchen. A lone light over the stove shed a soft gold glow over the neat, old-fashioned kitchen. A gas heater hissed softly in the corner, drawing Jane to it like a moth to flame. She warmed her hands in front of it, emitting a soft moan of relief.
Joe rested his hand on the back of her head for a moment, the touch gentle and affectionate. A rush of pleasure moved through her, warming her as surely as the heater. “Get out of that jacket. I’ll see what Riley has in the way of food.”
Over a dinner of microwaved soup, she asked him more about his friend. “You said you grew up together?”
“Our fathers were both members of the same cattlemen’s association. We both worked on our family ranches and took part in cattle drives to the summer grazing lands together. When I decided to be a cop, Riley thought it sounded like a good idea, too.” He chuckled. “His daddy never has forgiven me for that.”
Jane finished her soup and took the bowl to the sink. Joe joined her there, drying while she washed. He put the two bowls on the dish rack by the sink, where they joined a couple of plates and three coffee mugs. His hand rested for a moment on one of the mugs, his brow furrowed.
Jane glanced at the clock on the microwave. Almost 8:00 p.m. “Isn’t Riley working kind of late?”
“He likes working late. Keeps his mind off-”
“What?” she asked when he didn’t continue.
“His wife Emily was a nurse-worked two twelve-hour shifts every weekend at a big hospital over in Casper. She didn’t come back one weekend. The Natrona County Sheriff’s Department found her car still parked in the hospital parking lot. A few weeks later, they found her body in a nearby lake.”
“My God.” Jane’s forehead creased in sympathy.
“They never solved the case. Drove Riley crazy for a while, but he’s back to himself now. Mostly.” Joe folded the drying cloth and laid it on the counter by the sink.
He led her down a narrow hallway to a small room on the right. Joe turned on the light to reveal an iron-spindle bed covered with a colorful wedding-ring quilt.
“I feel like Goldilocks,” Jane murmured.
He looked at her, his lips curving in a half smile. “You remember Goldilocks?”
“I think so. Little blond girl? Three bears? Porridge?” She chuckled when he nodded. “Amazing that I can remember fairy tales but I can’t remember what brought me to Wyoming in the first place.”
He motioned her toward the bed. She sat on the edge and looked up as he turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness relieved only by the faint glow of the kitchen light. He sat next to her on the bed, his weight shifting the mattress, making her slide up against him. He put his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close.
“I think we both know what brought you here.”
She sighed, resting her head against his. “Clint.”
“Clint,” he agreed.
“Do you think he was telling the truth about being my husband?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Marriages can be ended. I should know.”
She reached up to thread her fingers through his where they lay on her shoulder. “At first I thought he was here to take me back with him, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Why?”
“I was thinking about something he said that first day, when he was waiting for me in my apartment.” She shivered, remembering the sight of Angie’s bloody body sprawled across the kitchen floor.
Joe turned his face, brushing his lips against her temple. “What did he say?”
“He said, ‘You have something I need.’”
“You didn’t tell that to Hank Trent when he was questioning you. Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know that it really registered with me until now.”
“What could you have? I saw the police reports from when you first showed up in Idaho. They found you with nothing but the clothes on your back. No identification, only a few bucks in your pocket.”
“What if-” She stopped short as Joe put his hand over her mouth. Then she heard it.
A door opening in another part of the house.
Joe pulled her quietly to her feet and led her into the hallway. They had gotten about halfway to the kitchen when they heard a male voice, answered by another.
Jane didn’t recognize the first voice, but the second voice was as familiar as a recurring nightmare.
It was Clint Holbrook.
Chapter Fifteen
Joe froze, pulling Jane to him, as he heard Clint Holbrook’s voice in the kitchen. “You haven’t even heard from your boss?”
“I told you about the call from Idaho,” Riley Patterson answered. “If I hear from them again, you’ll be the first person I contact.”
Their voices seemed closer. Joe glanced across the hall at the closet door. What did Riley keep in there? Coats?
