A Rancher's Dangerous Affair

by Jennifer Morey

  “I had to stop at the police station.”

  Had something happened? “Why?”

  “I found David’s cell phone in the glove box of the rental. A strange man tried calling him the night before he was killed. The police are looking into it.”

  “What was the man’s name?”

  “I only had a number. He wasn’t in David’s address book.” She looked back, searching the road again.

  Brandon didn’t miss it. “Did someone follow you? Do you think it was him?”

  Her head spun back to him and her lack of response answered for him. He had to quell angry frustration. She’d sneaked away without him and then, just as he’d feared, she’d run into trouble. She’d made it back here, but what if something had gone wrong? Why did he care so much anyway? She was a grown woman. She could take care of herself, and she hadn’t been alone. And she was obviously fine.

  “Who followed you?” he demanded anyway.

  “It was that car.”

  “The one that was parked on the hill?”

  “He passed the turnoff to the ranch, though.”

  Someone was watching Eliza. Did it have something to do with David’s murder? The notes? Or was it his dad? Was his dad responsible for all three incidences?

  “Was it a man?”

  “He was too far behind to tell. It looked like a man, though.”

  His dad. Jack Reed had the personality of someone who could kill his own sons, like what he saw on the news every once in a while. The man who killed his wife and kids and then himself. No rhyme or reason. Just a lethal dose of mental instability. Maybe he’d gotten to David. Maybe the senator and sheriff were involved somehow. But why would he send the notes to Eliza? To make Brandon afraid for her welfare? It was working.

  No matter where his concern came from, he had to protect her. He had to keep it platonic, however. His heart could not be involved.

  “Don’t go anywhere without me anymore, Eliza.”

  “All right. I won’t.” She walked around him and entered the house.

  She was acting strange. As though she was uncomfortable with him. After putting her things down, she veered a wide arch around him on her way to the kitchen. Curious over her seemingly exaggerated distance, he went there with her.

  She opened his refrigerator and took out the milk, then found a glass.

  “One of those nights?”

  “I have a lot on my mind. I just need to let go. Unwind.”

  He chuckled because he’d teased her and she hadn’t caught it. She looked at him, lowering the glass of milk and eyeing him quizzically.

  “I have something stronger for that.”

  “Milk relaxes me.”

  “Wine would, too.” Especially if she wanted to let go and unwind.

  Frowning in reproach, finally catching on, she took her milk to the living room and turned on the television. Avoiding him again.

  He followed, sitting on the chair next to the couch where she switched channels until Entertainment Now played. Milk and celebrity news. It was so like her...and then...not.

  Unable to stave his adoration, he watched her for a while. As the entertainment program led into the latest Hollywood breakup, she leaned back with a sigh and sipped her milk. When her gaze wandered away from the television, he wondered what had made her so tense. She was distracted, and something was keeping her from acknowledging his presence. He should leave her to her quiet mood. He was glad she was home. Before she’d arrived, he was so worried. Now he needed to know why she was stressed, even melancholic.

  “What did you and Aegina talk about? Why did you go there?”

  Her brother, but that didn’t answer all of his questions.

  “Ryker.”

  “She must be upset.” Ryker had been arrested because he’d threatened her.

  “She is,” she answered without taking her eyes off the television.

  Another noncommittal answer. Was it her brother who made her that way or something else? Had she and Aegina talked about something other than Ryker?

  “What did Aegina say?”

  “She doesn’t believe Ryker loves her.”

  There had to be more. “What else did she say?”

  That snapped her head toward him.

  So, she did say something. “Did she tell you something that upset you?”

  She turned away again. “It’s nothing.”

  Now he was certain there was something. “What did she say, Eliza?”

  With another sigh, this one not so relaxed, Eliza turned off the television and moved so that her body faced him more, her legs angled along the couch. “People are saying we’re having an affair.”

  “Us?” Had his ranch hand said something? Or someone else? Jillian? Why would she do that if she was so hell-bent on having him that she’d stalk him?

  “They’re also saying that David knew.”

  He was beginning to understand her melancholy. That didn’t settle well with him, either. He’d slept with his brother’s wife. If he could change that, he would. But murder wasn’t something that had been on his radar.

  “And that I could have killed him to be with you.”

  The last delivery of information caused his mood to plummet down with hers. The David from his childhood, the one not burdened with physical abuse, had been kind and fun-loving. He didn’t deserve to die the way he had, much less believing his own brother was in love with his wife.

  “It could be just rumor,” he said.

  “It’s not.”

  “But it could still be a rumor. No one saw us....” He couldn’t say it.

  “They saw us together.”

  “We aren’t having an affair.” But they had.

  Now it was his turn to want distance. He bent his head, wondering if it was too late to go find something else to do. Why had he followed her in here, anyway? Did he mean to seduce her again? Could he do that to his brother, even in death? A deeper part of him argued he and Eliza had more history than she and David did. David should have talked to him before he ran off to Vegas to marry her.

  “We did, Brandon,” she made it worse by saying. “And it may have killed David.”

  “How could that have killed David?”

  “I didn’t love him. If he thought I did when he married me, he may have been driven to extremes.”

  “Did he love you?” Brandon suddenly doubted that he had.

  “I don’t know. I made a mistake marrying him. That mistake led to his decisions to sleep with other women and gamble more. It’s what kept him away from your ranch. If not for that, maybe he would have been here instead of walking into his death.” Eliza lowered her head as her voice quivered and she struggled with a few rogue sobs.

  The guilt was hard on him, too.

  She wiped her eyes as tears spilled.

  Not going to her didn’t seem like an option. He got up and went to her, sitting beside her and wrapping his arm around her. She leaned against him and cried softly, the tears of real remorse.

  He wished he could do that. Cry. But crying had become something he was incapable of doing. His father had seen him cry once, and he’d vowed it would be the last. His father had taunted him, calling him a crybaby and then hitting him and yelling that no amount of crying would bring his mother back. Crying wouldn’t absolve him, either. The beatings had grown worse and worse, beating the guilt into his sons.

  Until Eliza had shown up and he’d slept with her the day his brother was killed, Brandon had sworn off guilt the same as he’d sworn off crying. Could he swear off guilt where his brother was concerned? His brother had been a victim just like Brandon when they were kids. Victims of their father’s warped abuse. His blame.

  Back then, he was innocent. Now he wasn’t. He’d taken his brother’s wife. And if his brother had known that before his death, Brandon deserved to feel guilty.

  And then, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he shouldn’t feel guilty at all.

  Eliza’s tears eased and she lifted her hea
d, red eyes needy and blotchy, puffy skin wet. “Do you think he would have blamed me if he hadn’t been drunk or in trouble with gambling?”

  It was uncanny that she used that word. “Blamed you for what?”

  She quieted another sob. “Loving you.”

  Eliza’s sincere plea for a reassuring answer kept him from withdrawing from those words. She was a sophomore again. Needing him.

  If his brother had been thinking clearly when he ran into her at the athlete’s party, he wouldn’t have been so reckless. David had confronted Brandon after he broke up with Eliza and told him he thought he was making a mistake, that he and Eliza belonged together. That had puzzled Brandon when David had called to brag about marrying her, something he would have never done when they were teenagers. He and David had always been a team. Something had changed that. Something had pushed David too far. And now that he was dead, Brandon was certain that something went beyond drinking and gambling. His addictions may have triggered what had led to his murder, but David hadn’t meant to alienate his own brother. Brandon was sure of that.

  “I think he would have never married you.”

  Eliza tensed and pushed away from him. He removed his arm from around her, letting her go. Distance was better right now. She’d already told him she loved him when they were teenagers. That had been a guided missile. To hear her talk like that now...

  “I didn’t mean that I love you now.” She stood, hugging herself and moving away from the couch and coffee table. “I was only talking about when we were teenagers. I thought I loved you.”

  Backpedaling.

  Gladness that she’d clarified, regret that she didn’t mean it and doubt that she didn’t all clashed in him. He didn’t dare get up, lest he try and convince her she should love him.

  “I’m going to get a room in town tomorrow.”

  That got him to his feet. “No.”

  “Yes, Brandon. People are talking about us.”

  He went to stand before her. “I don’t give a damn what anyone says. You’re not going anywhere.”

  His father had escaped prison. David’s murderer could be anywhere or anyone. Jillian...

  And something deeper motivated him, something he was reluctant to identify.

  “I can’t stay here.”

  Brandon noticed how she’d picked up on whatever undercurrents were in operation between them. “Yes, you can. And you will.”

  “I’m going to stay in town.” She headed for the hallway. It was much too early for bed, but she was eluding him. He had to let her go.

  But he’d protect her. Even if he had to get his own room wherever she was staying.

  * * *

  Something woke her.

  Eliza sat up on the bed, listening. Her cell phone. Its distinctive chime was muffled inside her purse. She got up and retrieved it, checking the caller ID to see who it was. She didn’t recognize the number. It was after two in the morning.

  She answered.

  “Eliza Harvey?” a man’s voice said. His voice was deep and a little crackly, like he was talking through an apparatus. A little muffled.

  “Who is this?” And why was he calling her Harvey?

  “That’s not important. I need to talk to you. It’s about David.”

  Eliza breathed through her alarm. His voice frightened her, so calm, deep and slow. Sinister. “Tell me who you are.”

  “I can’t. Please. If anyone discovers I’ve called you, I could be in serious danger. Can you come outside to meet me?”

  “Outside?”

  “I’m here, at the ranch. I’ve taken a risk coming here.” The voice was slow and careful. “I’m sorry for the hour. I didn’t know any other way. Whenever I see you in town, you’re always with Brandon.”

  Someone was trying to reach her. In secret. What did this man know?

  “Brandon could help you.”

  “No.” The voice sounded panicked. “I’ll leave if you bring him.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Who was this? They were afraid.

  “Come to the stable. Alone.”

  “What do you know about David? Who are you?”

  “If you want to find David’s killer, come to the stable. Alone.” The caller disconnected.

  Eliza would either go out there alone or the man would leave. What should she do? Wake Brandon? If the caller saw him, would he run? What if this was a ploy? What if the man wanted to get her alone to harm her?

  But what if it wasn’t a ploy? What if the caller was truly afraid? If he knew something about David...

  She moved to the window and looked out. She couldn’t see anything through the darkness and nothing moved in the lights near the stable or driveway.

  Still undecided, she went into the entry and opened the drawer of the table where Brandon kept his pistol. She lifted it out. She had a cursory knowledge of guns and had seen him handle it. Copying his moves, she readied the weapon and went outside, leaving the door open just in case.

  It was a quiet night. Clear sky. Stars speckled the blackness. Seeing an ATV parked alongside the stable, she wondered if one of Brandon’s workers had left it there. At the stable, she saw that one of the doors was open. Stepping inside, she saw no one there. Willow nickered softly.

  Then something hard hit her on the back of her head.

  Chapter 10

  A high-pitched whinny brought Eliza back to consciousness. She coughed. Smoke filled her nose and throat. Where was it coming from? She lifted her head. Flames engulfed the loft of the stable, right above Willow’s stall.

  The mare wasn’t the only one neighing wildly. All four horses skittered frantically in their confinement.

  Coughing and blinking against the sting of smoke and heat, Eliza crawled unsteadily to her feet. Her head throbbed, and she was dizzy. Willow crowded toward one side of her stall, pushing at the gate, eyes flashing white in fear, screaming for help.

  The horse in the stall opposite reared in terror, pummeling the stall door. Flames engulfed the far wall. Eliza had to go there first. She fumbled with the latch before swinging the door open. The horse ran free, charging out of the stable.

  Balls of flame dropped down into the stall beside that. Eliza unlatched the handle. The fire seemed to have been started in the loft, where a lot of hay was stored. The entire stable would go up in an inferno in no time.

  Swinging the stall gate open, she glanced back at Willow. The horse reared and pounded at the gate to her stall. The fire had crept down one of the vertical beams. Soon the hay on the floor would catch.

  The horse in the stall she’d just opened bolted through, pushing the gate and slamming Eliza. She fell to her knees. The smoke was getting thick. She coughed. She crawled toward Willow’s stall. The horse in the one next to it neighed in panic, bucking its hind legs and kicking the stall wall. She had to hurry. Fire dropped from above. Creaking and snapping joined the increasing roar. Smoke and fire began to surround her. It was spreading fast. Almost to Willow’s stall, she managed to get to her feet, coughing, unable to see through heavy smoke and burning eyes. Then a loud crash preceded something falling on her. A flaming beam crushed her.

  * * *

  Brandon heard the horses neighing through his open bedroom window and saw the stable on fire. He hurried into a pair of jeans before rushing downstairs. The front door was open. Had Eliza gone without him?

  Swearing, he grabbed his cell phone and ran. He dialed 911 and told the operator there was a fire and where. Then he dropped the phone before passing through the open gate of the corral. He entered the burning stable, putting an arm across his face to ward off the heat and smoke. He couldn’t see. Coughing, he opened the first stall and let that horse free. Fire was spreading rapidly over the floor, gathering fuel as it devoured hay. Beams lay crossed on one side.

  That’s when he saw Eliza, lying under one of the beams, flames beginning to lick at her legs. Brandon hefted the beam off her and threw it aside. Sparks flew, and the fire heightened.

&nbs
p; Willow neighed in frenzied panic, kicking the stall door. He lifted Eliza and ran with her out of the stable; the sounds of Willow’s screaming haunted each stride.

  Placing Eliza gently on the ground outside the corral, he bent to check for breathing. Worry swallowed every thought and emotion in him. The beam that had fallen on her was big. Had it hit her head or had she been knocked out when she struck the ground? He couldn’t lose her now. He’d already lost her once.

  Warm breath assured him that she was alive.

  Willow’s screams propelled him back to the stable. The flames had grown. The heat was unbearable as he entered the structure. Another beam fell, missing him by inches. Reaching the mare’s stall, he opened the door and jumped out of the way as she ran through, neighing in that frightened way.

  Brandon followed her. She galloped through the corral and didn’t stop running for the pasture.

  Back at Eliza’s side, he knelt beside her, sagging with relief when he saw her eyes open. She tried to sit up, but he stopped her. She saw the stable. It would surely burn to the ground.

  “Willow.” She searched around for the horse. She stared up at him with wide, horrified eyes. “Is Willow dead?”

  Flashing lights appeared over the hill. He hadn’t heard the siren until then. The roar of the fire was intense. His eyes still stung, and his throat was sore.

  “Brandon.” She gripped his biceps to sit up, wincing as she did. He hadn’t put on a shirt.

  Realizing he was tormenting her by not telling her where Willow was, he said, “I let them run.”

  “Willow’s okay?”

  “She’s fine. Scared but fine. Are you all right?”

  While she closed her eyes in relief, she nodded. Lifting her hand, she felt the back of her head. “Someone knocked me out.”

  Brandon helped her to her feet as the first fire truck stopped in the driveway. “What?” Had she gone to the stable because of the fire or some other reason?

  “A man called me. He said he had some information on David and told me to meet him in the stable.”