‘Then I’ll see you in a while,” he said. But instead of leaving, he reached out and brushed his warm fingers over her cheek. “Soot.” He turned and walked away.
Dixie placed a hand on her still-tingling cheek.
“They’re hard to resist, aren’t they?”
Dixie lowered her hand and turned to Reba, who was smiling softly. “Double Diamond bad boys,” Reba repeated. “They’re hard to resist.”
Since there was no use denying it, Dixie nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, he has no problems resisting me.”
And she knew why.
Lincoln’s daddy had left him. His mama had left him. And his wife had left him. He had struck out with love and he wasn’t willing to give it another chance. Dixie didn’t know why the thought made a knot form in her stomach. She wasn’t looking for love. She had a dream to fulfill.
And yet, as she watched Lincoln step into the garden, she felt like her dream was right here.
Chapter Fourteen
“You want another beer, Linc?” Val lifted a bottle from the cooler that sat on the back steps of the boardinghouse.
Lincoln accepted the beer, even though he should have declined it. He’d already had two while Cal looked over the engine of the lawn mower that wasn’t broken and two more with the dinner that Reba had insisted he and Dixie stay for.
It had been about the best chicken potpie he’d ever had in his life. He’d enjoyed sitting at the long dining room table filled with the boardinghouse guests and listening to the steady flow of conversation as the fluffy dinner rolls Val had baked were passed around.
After his mother died, it had been just Lincoln and his grandmother. Granny Hayes hadn’t been much of a conversationalist. Which was probably why he’d learned to eat fast and be excused. It wasn’t until he got to the Double Diamond ranch that he discovered mealtime wasn’t just about eating. It was about sharing thoughts and dreams and laughter with people you cared about and who cared about you. It was about feeling comfortable in a crowd.
Like Granny Hayes, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. But Dixie was. And she had a knack for pulling him into every conversation and making him feel part of the group. It was a good feeling.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Val asked.
“We don’t know who started the fire, but it looks like arson to me,” he said.
“I wasn’t talking about the fire. I was talking about what’s going on between you and Deputy Meriwether.”
“Nothing’s going on.” He took a deep swallow of beer. “We’re just working on Sam’s case together.”
Val shrugged. “Okay, if you want to pretend nothing is going on, that’s up to you. But take it from me, it’s a waste of time. I did the same thing with Reba and the pretense will catch up with you.” He took a swallow of beer and moved on. “So how’s Sam’s case going?”
Lincoln hadn’t told any of the boys about the bone, but it was time to. The forensic report would be back soon and the news would be out. If he didn’t share it now, his friends would be pissed. Although Holden would probably be pissed anyway. He thought Lincoln wanted him to drop Boomer by the ranch because he loved dogs.
“We found a bone on the Double Diamond ranch.”
Val choked on his beer. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. “A human bone?”
Lincoln nodded. “The forensics report isn’t back yet, but I would bet money on it being Sam’s. We also discovered his truck—or a record of it having been towed. It was abandoned out off Highway 281 around the same time Sam was fired.”
“Shit.” Val rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the bottle he cradled between his hands. “You don’t think Chester shot him and then he and Lucas got rid of the truck, do you?”
“I don’t think so, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Lucas and Chester live by the code of the West and sometimes that code can be pretty brutal.” He stared out at the garden for a few moments before he spoke. “Chester did ride back to the ranch the day Sam threatened you. When he saw Sam leaving, he followed him and cut him off on the road. He claims he didn’t try to kill Sam. He just fired some shots at his truck.”
Val blew out his breath. “A jury might see it differently.” He glanced up. “Have you told Holden? He might need to defend Chester.”
“Damn, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Val reached out and placed a hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “I know you feel torn between your duty and your love for those old cowboys.”
Torn didn’t even come close to summing up how Lincoln felt. And the fact that he hadn’t taken Sam’s disappearance seriously made it even worse. “When the forensics report comes back, I’ll have to report what Chester told me. I’m just praying I figure out what happened to Sam before that.”
“And you have no leads.”
“It’s hard to find leads on a sixteen-year-old murder. I’m going to start questioning people in town about Sam.”
“What about Maisy? Have you told her anything?”
“No. And I’m not going to until we find out if the femur is Sam’s.” Then he needed to tell Maisy the entire truth, including the truth about his relationship to Sam. He owed her that. He also owed her an apology for being such an ass to her. She wasn’t Sam. She was just a young woman searching for her father. Which proved that she’d suffered from Sam’s abuse too. Maybe not physically, but desertion was a form of abuse.
“Hey,” Reba peeked her head out the open screen door. “You two bad boys need to call it a night. Dixie’s done in.”
Lincoln wasn’t sure what Reba was talking about until he got
