If they were in Whitehorse, the town was small enough that any stranger stood out like a sore thumb—especially this time of year. During summer a few tourists would past through on what was known as the Hi-Line, Highway 2 across the top part of Montana. But it was a little early for tourist season.
As McCall locked up and headed for her cabin beside Milk River, she glanced at the vehicles parked diagonally at the curb in front of the bars. None from out of state. Only one from out of town.
She left the mostly sleeping little Western town and headed home, praying neither suspect was anywhere near Whitehorse, Montana.
WHERE WAS JACK? Josey felt a chill as she glanced around the empty room. The door to the bathroom was open, the room empty.
She sat up, listening. The house seemed unusually quiet. Eerily so. She had a sudden urge to get out of there while she had a chance. What was wrong with her?
From the open window next to the bed, she heard one of the horses whinny, then another. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and hurried to the window.
A wedge of moon and a zillion tiny stars lit the black night. She could make out the horses moving around the corral as if something had set them off. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, surprised that the floodlight near the barn was out.
It had been casting a golden glow over the ranch yard earlier when she’d gone to bed. Her pulse quickened.
A breeze rustled the leaves of the cottonwoods, casting eerie shadows in the direction of the lodge.
Among the shadows, something moved.
Jack.
He crept along the dark edge of the buildings like a man who didn’t want to be seen. He had something in his hand that occasionally caught the moonlight. A crowbar?
Josey watched him reach the end of the far wing, the one she’d noticed was older than the rest and had boards over the windows and doors. He disappeared around the corner.
Where was he sneaking off to at this time of the night and why? Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with secrets.
JOSEY WOKE THE next morning to the sound of running water. A few minutes later Jack came out of the bathroom wearing only his jeans and boots. His muscled chest was suntanned and glistening. He smelled of soap, his face was clean shaven, his blond hair was wet and dark against the nape of his neck.
She’d felt a wave of desire wash over her.
“Morning,” he said, seeing she was awake. He seemed to avoid her gaze.
“Good morning.” Well, if he wasn’t going to say anything, then she was. “Jack—”
“I’ll let you get ready and come down with you for breakfast,” he said quickly. “Can you be ready in half an hour?”
She nodded, sensing the change in him. She’d hoped things would go back to the way they were yesterday, when he’d been playful and affectionate. It had been a game, this pretend marriage. But apparently yesterday had changed that after he’d seen the rope burn on her neck. Or did it have something to do with his late-night exploration?
She’d heard him come in just before daylight. He hadn’t turned on a light. She’d listened to him stumbling around in the dark and caught a whiff of alcohol. Had he been drinking?
Now he didn’t give her a second glance as he pulled on a Western shirt and left.
She lay in bed, hating this change in him. She knew he must be regretting picking her up on the highway, let alone proposing marriage, even a fake one. She touched the rope burn on her neck. What he must think of her.
If he only knew.
Well, what did he expect? she thought angrily, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and headed for the bathroom. He didn’t know a thing about her. He hadn’t wanted to know a thing about her. All he wanted was a pretend wife to fool his grandmother. And she’d done her job just fine.
She took a quick bath and was ready when he returned.
He again gave her only a glance, his gaze pausing for a moment on the new scarf she had tied around her neck. She couldn’t wait for her neck to heal enough that she could dispense with the scarves.
As they descended the stairs, Josey missed his warm hand on her back. She missed his touch almost as much as she missed the way he had looked at her.
Jack’s grandmother glanced up as they entered the dining room, her gaze narrowing. The old gal didn’t miss much. She must see that there was trouble in honeymoon paradise.
Josey felt uncomfortable, as if she was under scrutiny throughout breakfast. Even Virginia seemed to pick up on the fact that something was different between Josey and Jack.
“The two of you should take a horseback ride,” Pepper Winchester said as they finished breakfast. “Show her the ranch, Jack. I know how you love to ride.”
Josey started to say that wasn’t necessary, that she didn’t know how to ride, that the last thing the two of them needed was to be alone together, but Jack interrupted her before she could.
“I think that’s a great idea,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll go saddle up two horses and meet you in the barn.”
JACK WAS ALMOST surprised when he turned to find Josey framed in the barn doorway. He wondered how long she’d been standing there watching him. A while, from her expression.
He hated the way he’d been treating her since seeing what some bastard had done to her. He couldn’t help his anger. He wanted to kill the son of a bitch.
A part of him also wanted to grab Josey and shake some sense into her. How could she have
