by Janet Dailey
Restless as a bull in the bucking chute, Will rose to his feet. “Are we finished, Sheriff? I need to get to work.”
“Just one more thing, Will,” the sheriff said. “Last night you told me you’d sent your daughter away because she hadn’t seen anything. That turned out to be untrue. Do you have anything to add in defense of your statement?”
Tori’s eyes were on Will—his tightened jaw, his narrowed eyes. She knew that look all too well. It was the look of a man who’d had enough. As he drew in his breath, she braced for the explosion.
Will exhaled, holding himself in check. “I’m done here,” he said. “Ask my lawyer.”
With that, he strode out of the room. Tori heard the closing of the front door—not quite a slam—and the roar of his pickup as he sped away. She guessed he’d be headed somewhere out of reach, maybe up to the summer pastures on the caprock to check the grass and mend the fences. That had been his way when they were married—in any kind of emotional crisis, Will would simply walk away and disappear into his work.
Abner was staring after him, slack-jawed. Tori rose, speaking into the silence. “Sheriff, I believe you already know the answer to your question. Will didn’t know that Erin had seen the shooting until I told him this morning. You’ve no call to read anything else into the situation. Agreed?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so.” Abner stood, turned off the recorder, and stuffed it into his imitation-leather briefcase. “I guess we really are done here.”
“You said there’d be an inquest.” Beau had risen as well. “Can you give us some idea what’s involved and how long it’ll take?”
“My best guess is ten days to several weeks. We’ll need to get the coroner’s report and schedule the judge. If the judge wants to impanel a jury, that’ll take more time.”
“A jury? Why, for God’s sake?” Beau demanded.
“To decide whether Will should be charged and tried—most likely for manslaughter.”
With that exit line, Abner picked up his briefcase and keys, and headed out the front door.
* * *
That evening, after a long, restless afternoon, Tori stood at the porch rail and watched the last rays of the setting sun fade behind the escarpment. The canyons lay deep in purple shadow, the high buttes above them still bathed in velvety mauve light. Quail called from the cedars along the foothills. Horses, their nostrils testing the wind, nickered and snorted in the paddock. The evening breeze carried the smell of dust and an ominous chill, a warning, perhaps, that the first norther of the season was already sweeping down the distant plain.
She glanced at the luminous dial of her watch. Drew had planned to pick her up two hours from now for an eight o’clock movie and late-night pizza. Either she would need to go home, change, and be there when he arrived, or call now and cancel their date.
The question was, should she stay here with Erin? Her daughter had seemed fine today, but last night she’d had trouble sleeping. Tori had ended up putting an old Disney movie in the DVD player and watching with her until her head drooped and her eyes closed. If Erin was still traumatized tonight, Tori didn’t want to leave her, not even with Will. At times like this, a child needed her mother.
And Will—did he need her, too?
But that couldn’t be allowed to matter. Will was his own man, and she was no longer his wife. It made sense that she’d agreed to be his lawyer. But that was where she had to draw the line. Sympathy wasn’t part of the bargain.
So, if she canceled her date and stayed here, would that be sending Will the wrong message?
A brisk November wind whistled across the porch. Tori shivered beneath her light wool sweater. Either way, it was time to make a decision.
She was about to go back inside when she felt a warm weight settle on her shoulders. As the smells of sage, wood smoke, and horses enfolded her, she recognized Will’s fleece-lined range coat and the strong hands that had wrapped it around her.
“Can’t have you freezing out here, can we?” Will’s husky baritone rumbled in her ear. He stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his breath stirring her hair. A long-forgotten thread of heat uncurled in the depths of her body, recalling the sensual passion that had created Erin and the other baby, the one she’d lost. In those early years their lovemaking had been good. More than good—until the end, when even love hadn’t been enough.
Tori closed her eyes, an ache rising in her throat. “You weren’t here for supper,” she said. “Where’ve you been?”
“Working. Riding. Thinking. Whatever the hell a man does at a time like this. By the time Abner finished with me, I wasn’t fit company for you or anybody else.” His hands lingered on her shoulders. “How’s Erin?”
“Fine. When I last checked, she was doing her homework in the dining room.” The old memory tugged at her, standing in the ranch kitchen, feeling the brush of his stubbled whiskers on the back of her neck . . . She felt the heat rising, her body warming. Even after eight years apart, she wasn’t immune to Will’s raw masculinity.
But there was only one sensible choice here, and Tori forced herself to make it. “I hope you can keep Erin company awhile,” she said. “I was about to leave. I have a date tonight.”
His hands dropped from her shoulders. He took a step backward, widening the space between them. “You had a date last night,” he said.
“Yes, I know.” Turning, she slipped off his coat and thrust it toward him. “My plan is to drive back here afterward, with a bag packed for a night or two. How long I stay here will depend on how Erin is doing. If we agree that she’s better off on the ranch for now, I’ll call the school on Monday and arrange for her lessons. But you can’t keep me here, Will. I’m not a prisoner. I have a life.”
Stony-faced, Will took the coat. “But will that life be safe? Damn it, Tori—”
“I’ll be just fine. And for heaven’s sake, don’t wait up for me. I’m not sixteen anymore.” Sweeping past him, Tori strode into the house to get her purse and say good night to Erin. Was Will more concerned about her safety or about her being with another man? Either way, she couldn’t let his problems dictate her life. She was going on a date with Drew Middleton, and, by heaven, she was going to have a good time.
* * *
The grandfather clock in the front hall struck the hour of twelve. Will counted the chimes from his bed, where he lay on his back, staring up into the darkness. Midnight, and Tori still hadn’t come back from her so-called date. She was out there somewhere with some goody-two-shoes bastard who held the power to change all their lives—Tori’s, Erin’s, and his own. Will had never met Drew Middleton. If he ever did—and it was bound to happen sooner or later—it would take all his restraint to keep from punching the man in the face.
Damn it, Middleton didn’t belong in the picture. He didn’t have a clue about Tori, didn’t even know her. He hadn’t watched her grow up, changing from a coltish youngster who tore around the ranch with Beau and Natalie to a stunning woman, returning home with a brand-new law degree. Her beauty had knocked Will’s socks off back then. It still did.
It wasn’t Drew Middleton who’d driven Tori to the Lubbock hospital in a blue norther the night Erin was born. It wasn’t Middleton who’d walked the floor with Erin when she had the croup. And it sure as hell wasn’t Middleton who’d held Tori in his arms while she sobbed over the loss of their second baby, five months into her pregnancy.
The man was an outsider. He didn’t belong in Tori’s world or in Erin’s. Why couldn’t Tori see that?
Twelve-fifteen. Was Tori in Middleton’s arms right now, or maybe even in his bed?
Stop it! Will forced the image from his mind. It was time he quit agonizing over his ex-wife and opened his eyes to the reality that was staring him in the face. He had every right to be concerned about Tori’s safety. But her romantic life was her own business. The two of them shared a much-loved child. For Erin’s sake, he and Tori kept their connection, talking and meeting often, even sharing Sunday di
nners on the ranch. But that didn’t make her his. Whether he liked it or not, she hadn’t been his in a very long time.
A faint sound shocked him to full alertness—a smooth engine gearing down as it approached the house. Will sat up, ears straining in the darkness. Tori’s aging wagon had a distinctive rumble and a squeak in the chassis. He would know the sound of it anywhere. But this vehicle was almost silent, more like a late-model high-end sedan.
Tires crunched on gravel as it pulled up to the porch. Will was already grabbing for his clothes, yanking them on, shoving his bare feet into his boots. Was it a highway patrol car, its driver coming to tell him that Tori had been in some horrible accident? Or could it be one of Stella’s minions sneaking up to the house to do some damage?
Heart pumping adrenaline, he opened the top drawer in the nightstand and took out the pistol he kept there. By the time he reached the living room, the sound of the engine had stopped. Headlights were shining through the front window. Whoever it was, at least they weren’t trying to sneak up on the place. But this could still mean bad news.
Now Will could hear footsteps and voices—one of them a man’s, one of them Tori’s. At least she sounded all right—more than all right. She was laughing. He stepped back into the shadows of the hallway—not wanting to be seen, but too curious to turn away and go back to bed. Why would Middleton—if that’s who it was—be bringing her here? Why hadn’t she driven herself? Was he about to meet his ex-wife’s new boyfriend?
The parked car’s headlights shone blindingly bright through the plate glass window. As Will’s eyes adjusted to the glare, he could make out a silhouette on the porch—two people, one taller, locked in a passionate kiss. His pulse slammed.
Don’t look, you damnfool idiot! Go back to bed! Will chastised himself. But he was rooted to the spot, fighting emotions he had no right to feel as the silhouette separated and became two people, the taller one leaving. An instant later, Tori’s key turned in the lock. She stepped into the darkened living room.
Will backed into the shadows, but not soon enough. Tori must’ve heard him, or sensed he was there.
“Will?” Clutching her overnight bag, she stood outlined in the open doorway. Her hair fluttered in the night breeze. “Is that you?”
He stepped out of the shadows. Her breath caught in a low gasp. “Good grief, don’t tell me that’s a gun in your hand! Who were you planning to shoot?”
“This isn’t anything to joke about, Tori. I heard a strange car. I thought it might be a prowler.”
She closed the door and locked it behind her. “I told you not to wait up for me. If you’d been asleep, you wouldn’t have heard the car.”
“I’m not exactly sleeping well lately,” Will growled. “Where’s your wagon?”
“Dead in my driveway. Bad starter, I think. Drew drove me here.”
“Too bad he didn’t stick around for an introduction. After seeing how he said good night to you, I wouldn’t have minded meeting him.”
Her chin went up in defiance. “Stop badgering me, Will. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
He stood his ground, his silence asking the unspoken question that hung between them.
Tori’s patience snapped. “For your information, I haven’t slept with the man. If I decide to—which I might—that will be none of your business, Will Tyler. Now get out of my way. I want to check on Erin. Then I’m going to sleep.”
Ignoring the knot in his gut, Will stepped aside to let her get by. Part of him ached to crush her in his arms, sweep her off to his bed, and stake his claim on her all over again. But the time when that might have happened was long past. Tori would never be his again.
As they passed in the entrance to the hallway, something awakened and cried out in him. He reached out and caught her cheek with his hand, lightly cupping her face, lifting it to the pale light that filtered from the front window. The pupils of her eyes were large and dark, her lips moistly swollen. He ached to bend close, to brush those lips with his, but she pulled back with a sharp little breath, shook her head, and fled down the hall toward Erin’s room.
* * *
The next day was Sunday. Although the Tylers weren’t big on church attendance, Sunday dinner on the Rimrock was an honored tradition. It was a time when the family, and those who counted as family, gathered around the dining-room table in relative peace to celebrate their blessings.
Lauren Prescott raised her bowed head after Jasper droned the usual grace over the food. She’d been included since the past summer, when her old family home had gone up in flames and Sky had asked her to marry him. The Tylers always welcomed her, but even after more than three months of being engaged to Sky, she still felt like an interloper.
As family and friends helped themselves to roast beef, potatoes and gravy, salad, and fresh hot rolls, Lauren’s gaze drifted around the table. Beau, seated across from her with his wife, had been her friend and champion since last spring when he’d hired her accounting skills for the ranch. But Natalie, petite and dark-eyed, her pregnancy beginning to show, was so busy with her veterinary practice and her new marriage that Lauren had scarcely gotten to know her.
Tori had become Lauren’s friend after helping her find an apartment in town. But Tori, in her own way, was also an outsider here. Today the tension hung heavy between her and Will. Something was going on between them. It showed in the way they avoided each other’s eyes, the way they spoke not to each other but to their daughter.
Flanked by her parents, Erin basked in the love of everyone at the table. She might not realize it, but Will’s daughter was the glue that held the ranch family together, the bond that brought them here and made them—for this brief time—one.
Bernice sat closest to the kitchen. She’d always been kind and friendly. But her brother, Jasper, had never warmed to Lauren—and Lauren understood why. For three generations the Tylers and the Prescotts had been bitter enemies. Jasper remembered every wrong, every misdeed, every dispute, from the beginning. Trust a skunk before you trust a Prescott, he was known to say, though not to Lauren’s face.
Bull Tyler and Ferguson Prescott, Lauren’s grandfather, had started the feud. Both men were dead now, but the animosity remained. When Lauren’s father, the late congressman Garn Prescott, had died this summer, Jasper had refused to attend the burial service. Though he’d been at the graveside, Will, too, had had his own issues with the congressman. Now, as the only living descendant of Ferg Prescott and his son, Garn, Lauren carried a heavy burden of past family sins. Only time would tell what that burden would cost her.
She felt the light press of a hand on her knee. Seated next to her, Sky gave her his secret smile. She reached under the edge of the tablecloth and brushed the back of his hand in a furtive caress. Her history and Sky’s were intertwined in ways neither of them could have imagined when they’d first met. That hidden bond made her love him all the more. She could hardly wait to become his wife. Maybe then they could start anew and put the old family scandals to rest.
“How’s the new house coming along, Sky?” It was Beau who asked the question. “I’ve meant to ride over and take a look now that the fall roundup’s done.”
“The outside’s finished,” Sky said, “as well as the plumbing, heating, and wiring. Once the Sheetrock’s up and prepped, I can turn Lauren loose on the inside.”
“I’ll be in decorator heaven!” Lauren said. “We’ll have a big housewarming when it’s done!”
Sky had wanted to build his bride an entire house with his own hands, but his responsibilities on the Rimrock had made that impractical. Under his supervision, the crew he’d hired to put in a well and septic tank, run the power line and construct the log house, with its broad, covered front porch, was doing a fine job. The place wouldn’t be big and sprawling like the Tyler home, but with Lauren dipping into her inheritance to decorate the rustic interior, it would be beautifully finished and comfortably furnished.
Will had been uncharacteristically quiet througho
ut the meal. Sky had told Lauren about the shooting of Stella Rawlins’s brother and the possible consequences. No wonder Will looked so troubled. Lauren could sympathize with him. Stella, she suspected, had ruined her father’s reputation and contributed to his death. As always there was no proof against her, but if rumors were true, the woman was as dangerous as a coiled rattlesnake. And now she’d be out to avenge her brother by hurting Will any way she could—starting with the law.
* * *
Will walked into the room that served as the Rimrock office and closed the door behind him. He usually looked forward to Sunday dinners, but today’s meal had been an ordeal of silence and small talk, with everyone avoiding the one topic that was on their minds—the shooting and what was going to happen next.
Will had excused himself at the end of the meal, muttering something about the need to use the office computer; but the truth was, he’d just wanted to be alone and think things out. Until yesterday he’d felt certain that he’d acted in self-defense, and any case against him would be dismissed. But yesterday’s senseless grilling from Abner had changed his mind.
For whatever reason, the sneaky little toad was out to get him.
Sitting, he switched on the computer and brought up a search engine. He spent the next half hour reading up on Texas law, the inquest process, and the precedents for charges that could stem from an incident like the one he’d been involved in. What he found wasn’t encouraging. By pulling the trigger a split second too soon, he might have left himself vulnerable.
With a muttered curse he switched off the machine. Most of what he’d read, he could’ve learned from Tori. But now that she had a new man in her life, he couldn’t expect her to drop everything and come running whenever he needed her. And unless her help involved protecting Erin, he had too much pride to ask.
A new man in her life.
The thought deepened the dark hollow Will felt inside. He and Tori were past history, but even now, the thought of Drew Middleton, or any man, taking her away was like having the earth slide out from under his feet. Tori was a beautiful woman, and sooner or later, this was bound to happen. But why the hell did it have to happen now?