by Cora Seton
“Quilting bee?” Connor repeated, his hand on the doorknob. “They still have those?”
“I forgot all about it! Wait—you said we’d have it here?” Sadie’s eyes widened.
“Why not? We’ve got plenty of room.”
“The place is a mess. Cass would kill me if I let people see it like this!” Sadie ducked around Connor and pushed into the house. “I’ll need everyone’s help. Lena, get Alice and Jo. Right now!”
“Hell, she sounds just like Cass,” Lena said to Connor.
“Lena, I said NOW!”
Lena chuckled. “Now she’s channeling Mom.”
“Is that Grant Kimball again?” Connor watched as a familiar truck pulled in near the carriage house.
“Yep. And that’s Jo—shit.”
Connor wanted to echo Lena’s sentiment as they both watched Jo practically skip up to the truck, climb in to the passenger’s side and drive away with Grant.
“Should we stop her?” he asked.
Lena shook her head. “We can’t. She’s an adult.” But she sounded worried. “She’s been talking about him down in the barn. It’s Grant this and Grant that. We don’t know anything about that man.” She glanced at Connor. “Normally I wouldn’t be like this. We Reeds are independent. But lately…”
She didn’t need to finish her thought. “You’re right; we don’t know anything about Grant. And that’s going to change. Right now.” Connor made up his mind. “Text her. Tell her about the quilting bee. Tell her Sadie needs her help—lay it on thick. Does Jo usually take part in things like that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Get her home again. Meanwhile, I’ll slip out when you ladies get busy and head to town. See what I can find out.” Cab might not have information on Grant, but someone would.
Lena already had her phone out. “I like the way you think.”
Sadie stuck her head out the door. “Have you gotten a hold of Alice and Jo yet? Someone needs to deal with the farm stand.”
“Doing it right now.”
“I need your help, too,” Sadie told Connor with a significant look.
Connor joined her inside, and to his surprise Sadie led him upstairs. “We both need to clean up; figured we might as well do that together. No funny stuff, though.”
“No funny stuff,” he agreed.
There was plenty of funny stuff, but twenty minutes later they were both clean and Sadie was all business as they dressed in the bathroom. “I was lying about needing your help. What I really need is for you to make yourself scarce. Would you mind having dinner in town? I’m going to fix my sisters a snack and then we’ve got to clear the kitchen so we have room to sew.”
“I don’t mind at all. I’ll get a couple of errands done and eat while I’m at it. When I come home, I’ll handle the evening chores. I had no idea people still quilted.” He didn’t bring up Grant—or the way Jo had left with him. No need to get Sadie worried since Lena was already calling Jo home. He didn’t want to spoil her night, either. He’d fill her in on what he found out when he got home and her guests were gone. After all, he didn’t have any specific reason to distrust Grant.
“They do here. We’re all getting together to make a quilt for Jill Winsor’s bridal shower. She asked for one and let us know what colors she likes, so tonight we’ll each sew up a square or two. We’ll put the quilt together soon and get together for another bee to finish it off.”
“I’ll get out of your hair then. Have fun tonight.”
“You, too. See you… later?”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
When Sadie slipped away from the quilting bee late that evening, she headed upstairs, ostensibly to freshen up, but in reality to snatch another moment with Connor. She hadn’t seen him return home yet, but it was nearly ten and he’d left over four hours ago. He should have been home ages ago to do the evening chores. With the area near the carriage house full of their friends’ vehicles, he’d probably parked out front and slipped in the front door.
All night she had thought about their encounter in the maze, and wondered when they might be together again. Just thinking about it made her tingle all over, and made it hard to focus on the chatter of the women around the table. They talked about the usual things: Jill’s upcoming wedding, and the chances the young couple had for happiness—which everyone reckoned were strong. The harvest festival and whether or not the old Revolutionary War re-enactments should continue or be abolished—some women begrudged the time it took their boyfriends or husbands away from them and the emphasis on fighting, others enjoyed the re-enactments themselves, and looked forward to them. The settling of the extensive Cooper family on a ranch that had been left alone for years. Overall, the women at the table agreed it might mean trouble.
Sadie knocked lightly on Connor’s closed door, but there was no answer. She knocked again, but again he didn’t respond. She knew he could be anywhere on the ranch, perhaps still out with the animals. Lena had slipped away some time ago and hadn’t returned, but then she’d never been one for quilting. Probably hiding down in the barn with Connor. Sadie pulled out her phone and called him, turning toward her own room. But when she heard a sharp buzzing sound from behind her, she turned back, and pressed her ear against the guest room door.
Connor had left his phone in his bedroom again. Maybe he was here after all. Sadie hesitated, then curiosity won over common sense, and she turned the handle and opened the door a crack. Connor wasn’t in his bed, and when she opened the door farther she could see he wasn’t at his desk, either. In fact, the room was empty. But his phone lay on the dresser where he’d left it. So she couldn’t call him. She wouldn’t sneak a peek at his messages, either, she decided. She was done with that.
Although she had to admit she was curious… and a little worried. She couldn’t help but think about all of Mark’s lies. At first he’d hidden his exploits with Tracy. Only later did he flirt with her openly… and take Tracy home instead of her.
Sadie’s cheeks burned at the memory and she was glad no one could see her here in the guest bedroom. Maybe she wasn’t as over her past as she thought she was. For the first time she admitted to herself how badly it had hurt when Mark had treated her that way. She’d put up a front for him, pretending she didn’t care, but she had. Every look he’d exchanged with Tracy had felt like a knife in her heart.
Of course, it had been worse after the attack. Bad enough he’d thought so little of her he’d treated her that way, but for him to try to kill her sisters—
She could barely breathe when she thought about what had happened. She loved her sisters more than she loved herself. What if he’d succeeded? What if they’d died and she’d had to go on—
Alone?
Sadie reached for the door frame and steadied herself.
If she chose to be with Connor, she’d leave herself vulnerable to that kind of pain again.
Sadie went down the hall and checked in the bathroom. It was empty, too. On a whim, she called Lena next. “Where are you?”
“I just got back from the barn. Where are you?”
“Upstairs.”
“Get your ass back down here and start sewing. If I have to do it, you do, too.”
“Was Connor still down there when you went to check on the animals?” Sadie held her breath.
“As far as I know, he hasn’t made it back. I went down for some fresh air, but none of the chores had been done, so I did them.”
“That’s weird—he said he’d be back to do them. I wonder where he is?”
“You’ve got it baaaad,” Lena sang.
Sadie cut the call and pocketed her phone. Lena was right; she did have it bad, and that made her anxious. Why hadn’t he called her if he knew he was going to be late? He could have borrowed a phone.
He’s a grown man, she told herself. You don’t own him. He doesn’t have to report his whereabouts to you at every minute. She would hate a relationship like that.
But as she headed bac
k downstairs, she admitted to herself she wasn’t just disappointed. She was worried. Not about his safety, but about what a man like Connor might choose to do when left on his own. She couldn’t help remembering the women he’d been texting before. Couldn’t help remembering the way Mark had played her.
And she didn’t like that feeling one bit.
It was after ten when Connor entered the Dancing Boot, pushed his way through the crowd and angled up to the bar. He’d done his errands, had dinner at DelMonaco’s, waiting a long time for his meal since the restaurant was so crowded, and realized afterward he couldn’t call the ranch to let Sadie know he’d be late because he’d left his phone in his room. He knew Lena would check the animals and do the chores since he wasn’t there, but he’d have liked to call and tell her all the same.
Instead, he persisted in his attempt to learn about Grant, figuring Sadie was too busy with her guests to miss him. He spent a fruitless couple of hours monopolizing a pool table at a dive bar called Rafters before someone told him the real action was going on here.
He ordered a shot of Jack Daniel’s, frustrated by his lack of progress learning more about Grant Kimball.
“It’s on the house,” the pretty bartender said when she placed it in front of Connor.
“Really?” He grinned at the brunette behind the bar. Things were finally looking up if the booze was free; he’d already spent plenty on dinner and alcohol tonight. The bartender was dressed for work in a skintight T-shirt that left little to the imagination and a pair of poured-on dark jeans.
“Really,” she purred.
Too late Connor realized she meant it as an opening salvo in a flirtation. Her smoky eyeshadow and painted lips were a far cry from Sadie’s fresh-faced good looks, and he remembered Cab’s admonition—this was a small town. Just talking to the woman was bound to be trouble.
On the other hand, he’d scored a big goose egg as far as gathering any intel on Grant so far tonight. A bartender could be a gold mine of information. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
Or a free drink at the tail end of a frustrating evening. He’d had more than a few at Rafters, and had left his truck there and walked the few blocks to the Boot. He’d have to take a cab home at the end of this night. If he arrived there empty-handed, he’d really feel like a fool.
“You look like you’ve had a hard day.” The bartender rested her elbows on the bar, her chin in her hands. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Thanks, lass.” He thought he did. Laying on his accent, he continued. “Been a bit of a rough one.”
She nodded. “Tell me about it.”
“Rough one for you, too?”
“You could say that.” For a moment her smile faded, and Connor realized she was older than he’d first thought. She looked like a woman who’d seen too many opportunities pass her by.
“Man trouble?” He asked half because it made a good lead-in to asking about Grant, but also because he felt for her. The world wasn’t kind to everyone. You made a few mistakes and suddenly you couldn’t come back from them.
“What else?” She shrugged. “I seem to have a knack for picking the wrong ones.”
“A common ailment.” He leaned closer. “A friend of mine’s done something like that—picked a man I don’t think is good for her. That’s why I’m here. Need to have a word with him, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
He downed the shot.
The woman poured him another, ignoring the shouts of a bunch of young cowboys at the far end of the bar who wanted another round. She put it in front of him. “This one’s free, too.”
“You’re generous tonight, lass.”
“You’re pretty fucking cute. And you look single. What do you say—will you take me away from all this?”
Connor choked on the shot he’d just lifted to his mouth. Shit. He’d almost dumped the alcohol down his front. Just what he needed; to come home to Sadie smelling like he’d bathed in it. He’d have to walk a fine line with this woman. She was reading far too much into their banter.
The cowboys were beginning to kick up a fuss. “Hold that thought,” the bartender told Connor. “I’ll be back. I’m Tracy, by the way. Don’t run off, now.” She touched his arm and sashayed down the length of the bar to serve the young men. He watched her go, the alcohol giving his tawdry surroundings a pleasant glow.
A hand clamped down on Connor’s shoulder, and he turned to find a cowboy he didn’t recognize behind him. The man was tall, rugged, dressed in jeans and a black shirt, a black hat in his hand.
“Let’s go take a walk,” the man said. He strode off and the patrons in the bar rushed to part around him as he passed.
Connor, taken aback, hesitated and glanced at Tracy’s receding figure again before he pushed off his stool to follow the man. He’d be back for another try before she even noticed he was gone, he told himself.
Outside, the man was waiting for him, his hat on his head, but he set off again when Connor reached him and turned the corner. Only when they were out of sight of the entrance did the stranger thrust out his hand.
“Name’s Steel Cooper.”
“Connor O’Riley.” Connor shook with him, wondering what this was all about, trying to sober up a little.
“You’re staying at Two Willows?”
“That’s right.”
Steel kept his gaze over Connor’s shoulder, scanning the street while they talked. “Tracy Jones is no friend to the women there. If you are, I’d give her a wide berth.”
“I was just having a drink, mister.”
“You were trying to get in her pants.”
Ouch. Was that what it had looked like? And if Steel had noticed, had anyone else? “What’s it to you?”
“Nothing.” The other man surveyed him with a mixture of exasperation and contempt. “Thought you were at Two Willows to help the Reeds.”
“What do you even know about it?” Connor didn’t like the turn this conversation had taken. He knew Brian had opened up to some of the other ex-military men in town when things heated up a few weeks ago. A few of them had helped out the night of the shoot-out. Had they spread their business far and wide? He’d have to have a word with Brian when the SEAL returned.
“More than I want to. Look, the Reed girls practically shut down the supply of drugs in this town. People are pissed. They’re talking. And Tracy isn’t their friend. Do I need to draw you a picture?”
“I think you do. Cut to brass tacks. What the hell are you trying to say?” He felt far more sober than he had just a minute ago. The comment about trying to get into Tracy’s pants still chafed. Couldn’t a man have a minute alone around here? Was everyone going to have an opinion on the way he conducted his business?
He supposed so. Small town and all that.
Steel stepped in closer. “Let me put it this way. That woman you’re chatting up in there? She was Mark Pendergrass’s girl, too. Didn’t like Sadie horning in her action. Doesn’t like the idea of Mark serving time—or being shot.”
Connor’s gut tightened. “Mark Pendergrass? The one who—”
“The very one.” Steel backed off. “That’s all I got to say to you.” He touched his fingers to the brim of his hat.
“Wait.” Connor’s mind was racing. “What’s all this to you?”
The cowboy shook his head, turned on his heel and walked away, melting into the shadows of the narrow street until Connor couldn’t see him.
He looked back toward the Dancing Boot.
Decided it was time to go home.
It was late by the time the women all trooped out onto the back porch to head home. Stars twinkled overhead and it was the kind of soft summer evening that called for a glass of lemonade and an hour or two on the back porch before bed.
Sadie was too busy worrying about Connor to enjoy the stars, however. With each passing minute, her imagination went a little further afield. Had he found someone he liked better than her?
“We should do this more often,�
� Autumn Cruz said. “We can meet at my place next—”
“Hey! Get away from there!” Jo broke from the crowd, clattered down the steps and took off running toward the carriage house, which stood far enough from the house to be shrouded in shadow.
As the other women murmured with shock, Sadie pushed through them to try to see what had riled Jo. Sometimes foxes came to try for the chickens in the coops out behind the carriage house. Even coyotes sometimes made their way onto the ranch, but not very often.
When she heard a man’s angry shout, she took off after her sister. The thought of Jo facing a stranger, alone, after what had happened just weeks ago—
Footsteps pounded behind her and she realized several of the other women had followed her. As she rounded the side of the carriage house she caught sight of a man scuffling with Jo. She couldn’t make out more than his silhouette in the dim light, but before she could reach them, a gun went off, several of the women screamed and Sadie ducked. Inside the carriage house, all the dogs began to bark.
The man swore and took off running.
Sadie couldn’t breathe. Who had fired…?
Lena ran past, her pistol still in her hand. Several other women rushed by in pursuit of the man. By the time Sadie got to Jo, Lena had shoved the pistol into her shoulder holster and helped her up. Spending so much time on the range by herself, Lena tended to be armed.
“What were you thinking?” Sadie screeched at Lena. “You could have killed her!”
“I didn’t aim at them; I pointed into the air. Jo—are you okay?”
“That’s right, run, coward!” Claire Lassiter shouted in the direction the man had disappeared. She and the other women trailed back, obviously discouraged. “He got away, whoever that was.”
“Are you hurt?” Sadie asked Jo again, her heart still beating much too fast.
“No. Just…pissed!” Jo straightened and scrubbed her wrist over her cheeks where Sadie spotted the glint of tears. “I thought I saw something near the carriage house. I thought it would be an animal, and it would run off when it saw me. But it was a man—and he grabbed me!”