“We need to win,” Virginia was saying, and Steel immediately knew the topic of conversation.
The Ridley property—otherwise known as Settler’s Ridge—the same piece of abandoned ranch land where he’d tried to grow his pot crop.
Virginia, and everyone else in town, had been obsessed with winning it since the Founder’s Prize was announced in the spring. She wanted to add its land to Thorn Hill—and more importantly in these dry times, she wanted control of Pittance Creek, the small stream that ran between the Cooper and Turner ranches. Of course, the Turners wanted it, too.
Whoever contributed the most to Chance Creek would win the long-abandoned ranch. The announcement of the prize had kicked off a hearty competition between his family, the Turners and others in town.
His family launched an improvement plan for Chance Creek High. The Turners countered by renovating the town library and saving the dialysis unit at the local hospital, which had been slated to be shut down. The Lowmans donated a building to house the town history museum, with suitably low rent for the non-profit organization. That left the Turners in the lead.
Virginia was on the warpath.
“At this point all we can do is tie up the contest, Virginia,” Lance pointed out. Not too long ago, Lance had been as riled up about beating the Turners as Virginia was. He’d mellowed out significantly after he’d married Maya Turner, and they had both secured scholarships to study history in the coming fall semester. Lance seemed happier than Steel had ever seen him, and Steel was proud of what his brother had made of his life.
“You can do better than that if you put your mind to it. We need to create something spectacular for this town. Something that sweeps the competition.”
“What we need is to help the kids around these parts,” Olivia countered. “Did you hear about Rena Klein? She overdosed. I think we should raise funds to expand the detox and stabilization units in town. They don’t even serve teenagers.”
Steel poked his head out, drawn by the content of their conversation, and saw that Jed Turner was heading their way. He pulled back into the shadows as Virginia snapped, “The last thing we need is to associate the Cooper name with anything related to drugs. So come up with a better project than that—fast. You hear me? We can’t let those Turners get their mitts on Settler’s Ridge.”
“Are you forgetting I’m a Turner now?” Olivia teased Virginia. She was married to Noah, after all.
“And so is my wife,” Lance pointed out.
“And I hope you don’t regret it half as much as I regret having to depend on a bunch of do-nothings to win that land!”
Steel withdrew even more, biting back a smile. Virginia was a scrapper, but he had bigger fish to fry than worrying about the Ridley property. He had a killer to catch—
And he had to do it before he forever lost his chance to woo Stella.
Where was Steel Cooper now?
Stella knew she should focus on Eric, who was moving her around to the slow country tune the band was playing, but she found it hard to keep her mind from wandering. The evening was warm, the music good, and a Montana sky’s worth of stars shimmered overhead. A romantic setting for sure—
So why couldn’t she focus on the man in her arms?
When the Coopers moved back to town three years ago, Stella had never thought Steel would take up so much of her thoughts, but lately she couldn’t shake his face from her mind—or his touch from her dreams.
He’d danced with her on a couple of occasions this summer, each time simply to rile up one of her brothers. Those dances meant nothing, but still she could remember the feel of his hands on her waist, the crispness of his shirt against her cheek and the shivers he’d sent down her spine when he’d whispered in her ear.
“Stella?” Eric’s voice broke into her reverie, and she shook off her wayward thoughts. Steel wasn’t a suitable match for her, no matter how she reacted when he was near. “What are you thinking about?” Eric pulled her against him, and she shifted to try to get more comfortable. It wasn’t fair to him to keep wishing it was Steel’s broad shoulders she had her arms wrapped around.
Eric Holden was one of the best men Stella knew. She’d always appreciated his dedication to his job. He was one of the first to get into work in the morning and still there when she clocked off for the day. Several times, driving through town at night, she’d seen his truck in the sheriff’s department parking lot, his office light on. He was steadfast, energetic and good-looking, even if he was a bit older than she was. She couldn’t say why he didn’t rev her up the way Steel did.
“Just… appreciating the music.” It was true as far as it went. The band was competent, and dancing with Eric was nice enough. He was a solid man, still muscular despite his forty-three years. Handsome, too, with a strong jaw and green eyes that were easy to get lost in. She knew other women were watching and envying her, which made it ridiculous that she couldn’t keep her mind off Steel.
Daydreaming about the man was wrong in so many ways she couldn’t count them. She was a Turner. He was a Cooper. She valued honesty, forthrightness and good citizenship, all characteristics Eric possessed in spades. Who knew what Steel valued? She worked for the sheriff’s department as a receptionist—and hoped to move into a different position soon. Steel skirted the law like his father had—and maybe outright broke it.
She needed a man like Eric. A sheriff’s deputy, like she hoped to be one day. A good, forthright, caring man she’d always be able to depend on. She’d never have to wonder what Eric was
