by B. J Daniels
“Christy’s blood alcohol was three times the legal limit,” Hud said.
Again Mike shot a look at his boss before holding up his hands and quickly defending himself. “I cut her off before the fight because she’d been hitting the booze pretty hard. But that doesn’t mean she quit drinking. The place was packed last night. All I know is that I didn’t serve her after that.”
Hud glanced toward the front door. “Her car is still parked outside. You didn’t happen to take her keys, did you?”
The young man grimaced. “I asked for her keys, but she swore to me that she was walking home.” He shrugged. “I guess that part was true.”
Hud had Christy’s car keys in a plastic evidence bag in his patrol SUV. The keys had been found near her body next to the road after she was apparently struck by a vehicle and knocked into the ditch.
“I’m going to need the names of the two men who were involved in the fight,” he said. He wrote them down, hiding his surprise when he wrote Grady Birch, but Chet Jensen was no surprise. Chet seemed to think of the local jail as his home away from home. “What about friends, girlfriends, anyone Christy was close to.”
Mike shook his head. “She hadn’t been working at Lone Peak Perk very long. I’m not sure she’d made any friends yet. When she came into the bar, she was always alone. I think someone said that she was driving back and forth for work from Bozeman where she was living with her mom.”
“Did she always leave alone?” he asked.
With a shake of his head, the bartender said, “No.” He motioned toward the names he’d given the marshal. “It was usually with one or the other of those two.”
Hud thanked Mike and went outside to the car. He’d already run the plates. The vehicle was registered to Christy Shores. Bill came out and drove off, followed by Mike who hopped on his mountain bike.
Christy’s older model sedan wasn’t locked Hud noted as he pulled on latex gloves and tried the driver’s-side door. It swung open with a groan. He looked inside. Neatness apparently wasn’t one of the young woman’s traits. The back seat was stuffed full of clothing and boxes. He’d been told that she was planning to move into an apartment on the second floor of Mary’s building today. The front floorboard on the passenger side was knee-deep in fast-food wrappers and Lone Peak Perk go cups.
He leaned in and took a whiff, picking up the stale scent of cigarettes and alcohol. All his instincts told him that after the apparent night Christy’d had, she would have driven home drunk rather than walk.
On impulse, he slid behind the wheel, inserted the key and turned it. There was only a click. He tried again. Same dull click. Reaching for the hood release, he pulled it and then climbed out to take a look at the engine, suspecting an old battery.
But he was in for a surprise. The battery appeared to be new. The reason the car hadn’t started was because someone had purposely disabled it. He could see fresh screwdriver marks on the top of the battery.
Hud suspected that whoever had tampered with her battery was the same person who had wanted Christy to take off walking down this road late last night.
* * *
When Mary walked across the street to the Lone Peak Perk the next morning, she was surprised to find her favorite coffee shop closed. There was a sign on the door announcing that there’d been a death.
She wondered who had died as she retraced her footsteps to climb into her pickup and head for the ranch. Cardwell Ranch was a half mile from Meadow Village on the opposite side of the Gallatin River. She always loved this drive because even though short, the landscape changed so drastically.
Mary left behind housing and business developments, traffic and noise. As she turned off Highway 191 onto the private bridge that crossed the river to the ranch the roar of the flowing river drowned out the busy resort town. Towering pines met her on the other side. She wound back into the mountains through them before the land opened again for her first glimpse that day of the ranch buildings.
Behind the huge barn and corrals, the mountains rose all the way to Montana’s Big Sky. She breathed it all in, always a little awed each time she saw it, knowing what it took to hang on to a ranch through hard times. Behind the barn and corrals were a series of small guest cabins set back against the mountainside. Her aunt Stacy lived in the larger one, the roof barely visible behind the dark green of the pines.
At the Y in the road, she turned left instead of continuing back into the mountains to where her Uncle Jordan and his wife, Liza, lived. The two-story log and stone ranch house where she’d been raised came into view moments later, the brick-red metal roof gleaming in the morning sun.
There were several vehicles parked out front, her father’s patrol SUV one of them. When she pushed open the front door, she could hear the roar of voices coming from the kitchen and smiled. This had been the sound she’d come downstairs to every morning for years growing up here.
Mary knew how much her mother loved a full house. It had been hard on her when all of her children had grown up and moved out. But there were still plenty of relatives around. Mary had seven uncles and as many aunts, along with a few cousins who still lived in the area.
As she entered the kitchen, she saw that there was the usual group of family, friends and ranch hands sitting around the huge kitchen table. This morning was no exception. Her uncle Jordan signaled that it was time to get to work, giving her a peck on her cheek as he rose and headed out the door, a half dozen ranch hands following him like baby ducks.
Mary said hello to her aunt Stacy and kissed her mother on the cheek before going to the cupboard to pull down a mug and fill it with coffee. There was always a pot going at Cardwell Ranch. The kitchen had quieted down with Jordan and the ranch hands gone. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she asked, “So what’s going on?” She saw her mother glance down the table at the marshal.
“Some poor young woman was run down in Meadow Village last night,” Dana said, getting up from the table as the timer went off on the oven. “It was a hit and run,” she added, shaking her head as if in disbelief.
Mary moved out of the way as her mother grabbed a hot pad and pulled a second batch of homemade cinnamon rolls from the oven.
“You might have known her,” her mother said. “She worked at that coffee shop you like.”
“Lone Peak Perk?” she asked in surprise as she took a vacated seat. “I stopped by there this morning and it was closed. There was a note on the door saying there’d been a death, but I never dreamed it was anything like that. What was the woman’s name?”
“Christy Shores,” her father said from the head of the large kitchen table.
“Christy.” She felt sick to her stomach as she called up an image of the small fair-haired young woman. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, no. I knew her.”
“Honey, are you all right?” her mother asked.
“Christy was going to move into the apartment I had available today. She’d only been working at the coffee shop for a few weeks. I can’t believe she’s dead. A hit and run?” she asked her father.
He nodded and glanced at his watch. “The coroner should have something more for me by now,” he said, getting to his feet.
“Do you have any idea who did it?” she asked her father.
Hud shook his head. “Not yet. Unfortunately, it happened after the bars closed, and she was apparently alone walking along the side of the road dressed in all black. It’s possible that the driver didn’t see her.”
“But whoever hit her would have known that he or she struck something,” Dana said.
“Could have thought it was a deer, and that’s why the person didn’t stop,” Hud said. “It’s possible.”
“And then the driver didn’t stop to see what it was? Probably drunk and didn’t want to deal with the marshal,” Aunt Stacy mocked. “I’ve heard he’s a real—”
“I’d watch yourself
,” her father said, but smiled as he took his Stetson off the hook on the wall, kissed his wife and left.
Mary took a sip of her coffee, her hands trembling as she brought the mug to her lips. It always shocked her, death and violence. She’d never understood how her father could handle his job the way he did. While there wasn’t a lot of crime in the canyon, there was always something. She remembered growing up, overhearing about murders but only occasionally. Now there’d been a hit and run. Poor Christy. She’d been so excited about renting Mary’s apartment, which was so close to her work. It would save her the commute from her mother’s house in Bozeman, she’d said.
As the patrol SUV left, another vehicle pulled in. “Well, I wonder who that is?” she heard her mother say as she shifted in her seat to peer out the window.
Mary did the same thing, blinking in the bright morning sun at the pickup that had pulled up in front of the house almost before the dust had settled from her father leaving.
She stared as the driver’s-side door opened and Chase Steele stepped out of the vehicle.
Chapter 6
“It’s Chase,” Mary said as if she couldn’t believe it. For weeks she had dreamed of him suddenly showing up at her door. She shot a look at her mother.
“Do you need my help?” Dana asked. “If you aren’t ready to talk to him, I could tell him this isn’t a good time.”
She shook her head and turned back to watch Chase stretch as if it had been a long drive. He looked around for a moment, his gaze softening as he took in the ranch as though, like her, he still had special memories of the place. He appeared taller, more solid, she thought as she watched him head for the front porch. Was he remembering how it was with the two of them before he left?
“I can’t imagine what he’s doing here,” Mary said, voicing her surprise along with her worry.
Her mother gave her a pitying look. “He’s here to see you.”
“But why?”
“Maybe because of the letter you sent,” Dana suggested.
She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. This was Chase. She’d known him since they were teens. Her heart bumped against her ribs as she heard him knock. “He could have just called.”
“Maybe what he has to say needs to be said in person.”
That thought scared her more than she wanted to admit. She hadn’t told her mother about the call from Chase’s fiancée. She’d been too embarrassed. It was enough that her aunt Stacy had told her mother about the letter she’d sent him.
“Do you want me to get that?” her mother asked when he knocked. “Or maybe you would like to answer it and let him tell you why he’s here.”
Another knock at the door finally made her move. Mind racing, she hurried to the door. Chase. After all this time. She had no idea what she was going to say. Worse, what he would say.
As she opened the door, she glanced past him to his pickup. At least he was alone. He hadn’t brought the woman who’d called her, his fiancée who could by now be his wife.
“Mary.”
The sound of his voice made her shift her gaze back to the handsome cowboy standing in her doorway. Her heart did a roller-coaster loop in her chest, taking all her air with it. He’d only gotten more handsome. The sleeves on the Western shirt he wore were rolled up to expose muscled tanned arms. The shirt stretched over his broad shoulders. He looked as solid as one of the large pines that stood sentinel on the mountainside overlooking the ranch.
He was staring at her as well. He seemed to catch himself and quickly removed his Stetson and smiled. “Gosh dang, you look good.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He’d picked up the expression “gosh dang” from her father after Hud had caught Chase cussing a blue streak at fifteen out by their barn. The words went straight to her heart, but when she opened her mouth, she said, “What are you doing here?”
“I had to see you.” He glanced past her. “I’m sorry it took me so long. My pickup broke down and... Could we talk?”
She was still standing in the doorway. She thought of her mother in the next room. “Why don’t we walk down to the creek?”
“Sure,” he said, and stepped back to let her lead the way.
Neither of them spoke until they reached the edge of the creek. Mary stopped in the shade of the pines. Sunlight fingered warmth through the boughs, making the rippling clear water sparkle. She breathed in the sweet familiar scents, and felt as if she needed to pinch herself. Chase.
She was struck with how different Chase looked. Stubble darkened his chiseled jawline. He was definitely taller, broader across the shoulders. There were faint lines around his blue eyes as he squinted toward the house before settling his gaze on her.
She felt heat rush to her center. The cowboy standing in front of her set off all kinds of desires with only a look. And yet after all this time, did she know this man? He’d come back. But that didn’t mean that he’d come back to her.
“I got your letter,” he said as he took off his Stetson to turn the brim nervously in his fingers.
“You didn’t call or write back,” she said, wondering when he was going to get to the news about the fiancée.
His gaze locked with hers. “I’m sorry but what I wanted to say, I couldn’t say over the phone let alone in a letter.”
Her heart pounded as she thought, Here it comes.
There was pain in his gaze. “I’ve missed you so much. I know you never understood why I had to leave. I’m not sure I understood it myself. I had to go. Just as I had to come back. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” His blue-eyed gaze locked with hers. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.”
She stared at him. Wasn’t this exactly what she’d dreamed of him saying to her before she’d gotten the call from his fiancée? Except in the dream she would have been in his arms by now.
“What about your fiancée, Chase?”
“Fiancée? What would make you think—”
“She called me after I sent the letter.”
He stared at her for a moment before swearing under his breath. “You talked to a woman who said she was my fiancée?”
She nodded and crossed her arms protectively across her chest, her heart pounding like a drum beneath her ribs. “Wasn’t she?”
He shook his head. “Look, I was never engaged, far from it. But there was this woman.” He saw her expression. “It wasn’t what you think.”
“I think you were involved with her.”
He closed his eyes and groaned again. When he opened them, he settled those blue eyes on her. “It was one night after a party at my boss’s place. It was a barbecue that I didn’t even want to go to and wish I hadn’t. I’d had too much to drink.” He shook his head. “After that she would break into my apartment and leave me presents, go through my things, ambush me when I came home. She found your letter, but I never dreamed that she’d call you.” He raked a hand through his hair and looked down. “I’m so sorry. Fiona was...delusional. She was like this with anyone who showed her any attention, but I didn’t know that. I told her that night I was in love with someone else.” His gaze came up to meet hers. “You. But I didn’t come here to talk about her.”
Fiona? Of course he had dated while he was gone. So why did hearing him say the woman’s name feel as if he’d ripped out another piece of her heart? She felt sick to her stomach. “Why did you come here?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I hated the way we left things too,” Chase said. “Mary, I love you. That’s why I came back. Tell me that you’ll give us another chance.”
“Excuse me.”
They both turned to see a man silhouetted against the skyline behind them. Mary blinked as she recognized the form. “Dillon?”
Chase’s gaze sharpened. “Dillon?” he asked under his breath.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, and then realized
that she’d agreed to a lunch date she’d completely forgotten about because of Chase’s surprising return.
“Lunch. I know I’m early, but I thought we’d go on a hike and then have lunch at one of the cafés up at the mountain resort,” he said as he came partway down the slope to the creek and into the shelter of the pines. “More fun than eating at a restaurant in the village.” He shrugged. “When your pickup wasn’t at your office, I figured you’d be here.” Dillon’s gaze narrowed. “Why do I feel like I’m interrupting something?”
“Because you are,” Chase said, and looked to Mary. “A friend of yours?”
“Mary and I are dating,” Dillon said before she could speak. “I’m Deputy Dillon Ramsey.”
“The deputy, huh,” Chase said, clearly unimpressed.
Dillon seemed to grind his teeth for a moment before saying, “And you are...”
“Chase Steele, Mary’s...” His gaze shifted to her.
“Chase and I grew up together here in the canyon,” she said quickly as she saw the two posturing as if this might end with them exchanging blows before thrashing in the mud next to the creek as they tried to kill each other. “I didn’t know Chase was...in town.”
“Passing through?” Dillon asked pointedly.
Chase grinned. “Sorry, but I’m here to stay. I’m not going anywhere.” He said that last part to her.
His blue eyes held hers, making her squirm for no reason she could think of, which annoyed her. It wasn’t like she was caught cheating on him. Far from it since he had apparently recently dated someone named Fiona.
“If you’re through here,” Dillon said to her, “we should get going before it gets too hot.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Chase said, his penetrating gaze on her. “But we aren’t finished.”
“You are now,” Dillon said, reaching for Mary’s hand as if to pull her back up the slope away from the creek.
Chase stepped between them. “Don’t go grabbing her like you’re going to drag her away. If she wants to go with you, she can go under her own steam.”