The Sheriff of Sage Bend

by Brenda Mott

  Paige sat down again. “Then they don’t know who the woman is?”

  “Not yet. But the sheriff over there is on it.” As sorry as she felt for that woman’s family, Miranda’s thoughts were on Shannon.

  Where was her sister?

  Square one didn’t feel so good, after all. But at least Shannon might still be alive.

  Clinging to that hope, Miranda fixed Paige something to eat. Her own stomach was still too unsettled for her to want anything.

  “Where’s Tori?” she asked.

  “I guess she left when I fell asleep,” Paige said. “She was kind of ticked you hadn’t waited for her.”

  Miranda cringed. She’d have to call her friend and apologize. “Well, I couldn’t wait.”

  “I know. She’ll get over it. But you’re not going to believe who called while she was here.”

  “Who?”

  “Clint Blaylock. Said he wants to help with the search, and to call him the next time the group rides out.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  Paige shook her head.

  “Well, that’s something. I guess another pair of eyes can’t hurt.” Providing Clint could manage to stay sober. She wondered how Lucas would feel about him getting involved.

  After making sure her mom didn’t need anything else, Miranda drove home. Tuck and Smudge greeted her with their usual enthusiasm.

  Miranda grabbed a Coke from the fridge, then dialed Tori’s cell phone.

  “You’re in trouble,” her friend said without preamble.

  “Tori, I’m sorry. But I couldn’t wait one more second to see if it was Shannon.”

  “Okay. You’re forgiven, especially since I already heard through the grapevine that it wasn’t.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe how fast gossip travels around here.”

  “Well, you know how it is. Telephone, text message or tell Fae and Mae.”

  Miranda chuckled. “I thought that went ‘Telephone, telegraph…’”

  “Tele-what?” Tori said. She was three months younger than Miranda, and milked that for all it was worth. “Seriously, I’m so glad it wasn’t Shannon.”

  “No kidding.” Miranda sipped her Coke, sitting back on the couch with the dogs at her feet. “I’m going to go nuts if we don’t find her soon.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tori said. “I wish there was something more I could do to help.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Hey, did your mom tell you that Clint called and offered to help?”

  “Yeah. Maybe Lucas got through a little.”

  “Maybe, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. It’s more likely he’s trying to get on Dena’s good side again. He ought to loan her his horse and let her come out and ride. Give her a break from the kids for a while. I don’t think the poor thing gets to go much of anywhere.”

  “Not that I’ve seen.” Miranda sighed. “I wonder if Lucas found anything on Shannon’s computer yet. He hadn’t the last time I asked.”

  “Well, keep me posted,” Tori said. “I’m always here if you need me.”

  “Thanks, babe.”

  Miranda hung up and made her way to the kitchen. She supposed it was relief that had brought back her appetite, despite her earlier queasiness at the coroner’s office. With Smudge and Tuck eyeing her hopefully, Miranda slapped together a ham sandwich and chips. She munched automatically, tossing the dogs scraps of food as she sat at the table, lost in thought.

  If Lucas couldn’t find Shannon, and Miranda couldn’t find her, what in world were they going to do? She picked up the phone again, this time to call Sissy Spangler. The daughter of one of Fae’s closest friends, Sissy was a slip of a girl who always seemed swallowed up by her saddle as she rounded the barrels on her big quarter-Thoroughbred cross.

  Sissy lived a couple of miles away, and usually rode her gelding over to practice barrels, sometimes daily. She would be a senior when school started back up again in August, and Miranda had the feeling Sissy was going places. She was smart, and one hell of a horsewoman.

  “Sissy, hi. It’s Miranda.”

  “Miranda.” Loud and vivacious, Sissy’s voice and mannerisms didn’t fit her tiny frame one bit. “Omigod, are you doing okay? Any news on Shannon?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I heard the sheriff thought they might’ve found her de…found her over in Cameron County.”

  “It wasn’t her.”

  “I heard. I’m so relieved.”

  “Anyway, Sissy, I was wondering if you’d like to come over and run some barrels. I need to get my mind off…things.”

  “Sure.” Sissy perked right up. She lived to ride, reminded Miranda of herself ten years ago.

  Something in her had changed after Lucas left. She’d turned to rodeo and riding as a means of escape, rather than a source of pleasure. “All right then. See you in a little while.”

  Miranda hung up, then went outside to saddle the roan she’d been training for Shannon. If her sister came back and found her horse out of shape, she wouldn’t be very happy. Miranda saddled the red roan—Sangria—and warmed her up in the arena.

  Miranda was running the barrel pattern at a lope when Sissy trotted up the driveway on Scoot. She wore faded jeans tucked into her gray cowboy boots, a barrel racing bat poking up from the right one. Her teal-colored T-shirt brought out the turquoise in her eyes, and her shoulder-length, pale-blond hair was plaited into a single braid beneath a ball cap that read Barrel Racer, Cowboy Chaser.

  “Hey, Miranda.” Sissy pulled Scoot to a halt outside the arena fence. “Sangria’s looking good.”

  “Thanks.” She swung down from the saddle and led the mare over to the fence. “I thought I’d keep her tuned for Shannon.”

  “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” Sissy met her gaze head-on. “I’ve been riding with the search groups, you know, every chance I get. In addition to the formal search the county had mounted, many neighbors were riding out catch as catch can around their nine-to-five work schedules. We’re going to find her.”

  “I know.” Miranda managed a smile. “Now let’s get started on that big brute of yours.”

  Sissy laughed. “You’re not a brute, are you, baby?” She stroked the neck of the sixteen-hand-plus chestnut, then rode into the arena.

  When the training session was over, Miranda felt relaxed for the first time in days. She was ready for a hot shower. Afterward, she called to check on her mom, who assured her she was hanging in there. Paige turned down her offer to come sleep at the Rocking W.

  “Stay home, honey. I think we both need some time alone with our thoughts. Plus Chet and Sam are out in the bunkhouse if I need them.”

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  Miranda slipped into an oversize T-shirt, put a movie in her DVD player and settled on the couch with a cold beer and popcorn, which she shared with Tuck and Smudge. But the movie could’ve been about anything as far as she was aware of it. The beer made her sleepy, and within minutes she dozed off on the couch. She slept fitfully, too tired to go to bed, yet unable to sleep well.

  It was the dogs who woke her. Smudge ran to the door, and Tuck put his paws up on the living room windowsill. Ears perked, he searched the yard, then suddenly threw his head back and let out an earsplitting bark.

  Instantly, Miranda was alert. She flew to the kitchen in her bare feet and reached into a utility drawer for the loaded gun she kept there. One in the kitchen, one in her bedroom. A woman living alone in the boonies couldn’t be too careful. With the .357 Smith and Wesson in hand, she crept to the living room, sidling up against the wall. Smudge had joined Tuck at the window and the two continued to bark like mad.

  Cautiously, Miranda parted the back side of the curtain then cursed. Lucas stood on her lawn, in plain view beneath her yard light. She lowered the revolver.

  Jerking the door open, Miranda commanded Smudge and Tuck to stay, then stomped outside. “What are you doing lurking out here in the dark? Lucas, you scared t
he hell out of me.”

  “I wasn’t lurking, and I was standing under the light.”

  “Did you ever hear of knocking?”

  “I wanted to make sure those two hellhounds of yours weren’t out here waiting to waylay me. Then I saw one at the window, and I thought it might be wise to make sure he didn’t come through the glass.”

  “Why are you here?” Her gut churned. “Oh—is something wrong? Did you hear something about Shannon?”

  “No,” he said hastily. “I just came by to check on you. You’ve had a hell of a day.”

  “Same one you had.”

  He grunted, then his gaze fell to the pistol she still held, half tucked in the folds of the oversize T-shirt. At the same time, Miranda realized what she was wearing, and tugged at the hem with her free hand, hoping her practical cotton underwear wasn’t showing.

  “What’s that?” Lucas pointed, and Miranda purposely chose to misunderstand.

  “An extra-large T-shirt. I sleep in them.”

  “The pistol!” he said impatiently. “What in thunder are you doing with what I’ll assume is a loaded gun?”

  Miranda looked down at the revolver as though it were an afterthought, just a part of her hand.

  “Well, now, it wouldn’t do me much good if it weren’t loaded, would it?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  LUCAS DID HIS BEST to hold on to what was left of his patience. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about, he now had to contend with an armed, jumpy woman.

  “It’s not going to do you any good when you end up shooting off your own foot with that gun.”

  Miranda glared at him, her face dark red. “I’ve been target shooting since I was in elementary school.”

  “Do you have any idea how many home owners are shot—often killed—with their own guns?”

  “You know what you can do with your statistics,” she snapped.

  “Miranda…”

  “Do you want to come in or would you rather stand out here skulking in the moonlight?”

  “I wasn’t skulking, either.”

  “Whatever.”

  Suddenly, she burst into tears. Lucas couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d spontaneously combusted. Like her mom, Miranda was tough, and he’d rarely seen her cry.

  He wondered if she’d cried the day he’d stood her up.

  “Miranda.” He stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulder, and she let out a sob that had him gathering her against his chest. “Shh,” he soothed. “It’s going to be all right.” He pried the gun from her hand and laid it on the hood of her truck.

  “I can’t take any more,” she said. “I just can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “You’re going to get through this no matter what.”

  More tears squeezed out and slid down her cheeks. “No matter if my sister ends up like that poor woman in Cameron County? I don’t think so.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” But really, he had. He wanted to believe they’d find Shannon alive and well, but the more time that passed, the more he had his doubts. The lawman in him would not let go of statistics. “We’re going to find Shannon, and she’s going to be fine. She’s tough, too.”

  “I feel helpless and useless and furious…and it makes me so damn frustrated!” Miranda struck her fist against his shoulder—not hard, but hard enough.

  “Hey, take it easy.”

  Her blue eyes, now red with tears tore his heart out.

  Lucas kissed her without a second thought. At first he brushed his lips lightly over hers, and she stiffened slightly. But when she kissed him back, it was all over for him. He took her mouth, kissing her deeper and deeper, lacing his tongue around hers. She tasted so sweet, like rainwater after a dry spell. Like a cold beer after a hot ride.

  Lucas grew hard. He wanted Miranda now, beneath him on the grass. Pushing her shirt up, he kneaded her breasts, moaning when he confirmed she wore no bra.

  “Lucas,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Shush.” He smothered her protest with his mouth. She kissed him back, rubbing his shoulders, running her hands up and down his back until he thought he’d lose his mind. He had the wild urge to move her hands much lower. Instead, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her inside to the bedroom, kicking the door shut in the startled faces of her dogs.

  Her gaze met his and he could see a challenging sparkle in her eyes. There was nothing tender in the look she gave him, and there was nothing tender about the way she tore off his clothes when he laid her on her bed in the darkened room.

  Her aggression both surprised and pleased him. This wasn’t the young woman he remembered. Miranda was grown, mature, and she obviously knew what she wanted as she threw her own clothes off, then pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him.

  “I’m going to make you want me like you’ve never wanted anyone, anything, in your life.”

  “Mission accomplished.” He chuckled.

  But his laughter quickly faded when he saw how serious she was. She leaned over him. “Shut up and kiss me.” She locked her mouth over his, their tongues tangling.

  He wasn’t about to argue.

  FIRE COURSED THROUGH HER veins as Miranda kissed Lucas. He felt good beneath her, his muscles solid and as hard as the rimrock they’d explored earlier. She wanted to dominate him…wanted to make him hurt the way he’d hurt her.

  Sitting back, she rubbed against his groin, teasing him, refusing to let him enter her. “Not yet,” she growled. She was going to give him something he’d never forget. Make him want what he couldn’t have.

  With her hands against his chest, she wriggled and shimmied, sending him a saucy look. Leaning down, she kissed him, over and over. She let her tongue tease his, let her lips devour him. Then she worked her way down his body, kissing, nibbling, tickling him with the tip of her tongue, until she reached his erection. He was so hard, she wondered if he would last. Tracing the base with her tongue, she took pleasure in the deep moan she elicited.

  Stroking him, she worked her way upward, then took him into her mouth. As she slid her tongue around the tip of his erection, he moaned and thrust his hips against her. Then he tugged her into his arms and rolled her over on the bed.

  “I wasn’t finished with you,” she protested.

  “Maybe not, but you were about to finish me off.” His lips curved, and he pinned her beneath him. “My turn.”

  Bending, he kissed her neck, licking a path to her ear. Now she moaned as he traced her ear, then took her mouth in a frenzied kiss. She tried to remind herself she’d wanted to make him crazy, not the other way around. But everything he did to her felt so good, it no longer mattered. With a growl, she wrapped her legs around him and allowed him to slide inside of her.

  And nearly cried out with the pleasure of it.

  Lucas felt so good, so wonderfully familiar. And yet different. Her young lover, just a few years past boyhood, had matured into a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And for the moment, that was her.

  They made love twice, then lay in each other’s arms. Miranda draped one hand across Lucas’s chest, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  “That was phenomenal.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve never been called phenomenal before, but I think I’ll second that.”

  She smacked him. “I didn’t mean you were phenomenal, I meant we were.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

  Lucas stroked her hair. “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky, serious. “We are.”

  Abruptly, the room filled with tension. As gently as possible, Miranda extracted herself from his grasp. “I really ought to be getting to sleep,” she said. “Tomorrow’s another long day.”

  He took the hint. “That’s for sure.” Rising, he gathered his clothes.

  Miranda admired his backside as he stepped into a pair of charcoal-colored boxer briefs, then his blue jeans and chambray shi
rt. He turned to face her, and she averted her gaze. She’d already slipped back into her T-shirt and panties.

  Miranda could not bring herself to look up. “I guess we had some pretty hot sex, but that doesn’t mean…”

  “I never assumed it did,” Lucas said. “Good night, Miranda. Don’t forget your gun.” He put on his cowboy hat and stepped out into the hall.

  Immediately, Smudge and Tuck heeled him. Miranda heard him curse, and the sound of boot heels clacked against her hardwood floor in hurried steps. Miranda couldn’t help it. She let out a chuckle, then called off the dogs. Padding barefooted down the hallway, she paused and leaned in the living room doorway.

  But Lucas didn’t look back as he left.

  FOR THE NEXT THREE DAYS, Miranda made herself scarce. Making love with her might have been a mistake, yet somehow it had felt right. Lucas wasn’t sorry about it, so long as he hadn’t hurt her again. Though they’d both gone out with a search party the day before, Miranda had ridden out earlier, taking a different region.

  To Lucas’s surprise, Clint had insisted on coming along. His brother had sworn he was off the booze as of two days ago, and that he was turning over a new leaf. Sadly, it was the umpteenth time Lucas had heard that same story. He’d spent part of the ride trying to talk Clint into counseling, to no avail.

  “I can stand on my own two feet,” he insisted. “I may be a drunken jackass sometimes, but I love Dena and my boys. I’m going to do right by them. You’ll see.”

  Lucas wished he could believe him.

  Now as he answered a call dispatch put through to his desk, he did his best to clear his mind. “Blaylock,” he said.

  “Lucas, this is Carrie Hopkins. How’re things going on your end?”

  Carrie worked for the DA’s office in Sage County and was a whiz with computers. When Lucas hadn’t been able to find anything on Shannon’s computer, he’d turned it over to her.

  “About the same. Did you find anything?”

  “Not much, but there is a deleted e-mail I think you’d be interested in. I’ve already forwarded it to you.”

  “What’s it say?”