by Donna Grant
She slowed until she came to a stop. “Anything is possible. We stayed in touch, even after I left for college. Sometimes, Whitney came to see me, and sometimes, I’d return home. But the last two years have been busy for both of us. She with the rodeo circuit and pageant, and me with my business. But we don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Everyone keeps secrets,” he said.
She looked into his blue eyes and realized he was right. “Have you heard anything about Whitney? Anything that would suggest something happened?”
“Not a word, but that doesn’t mean something didn’t happen. Whitney could just be tired and on edge.”
Naomi looked down at her camera. Whoever had come at her wanted to make sure she couldn’t find out who he was. And in her mind, that meant the creep had done more than follow Whitney around.
Because Naomi knew this involved her friend. After losing Suellen, Naomi wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing. No matter what, she would get to the bottom of things and help Whitney out in whatever fashion she needed.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what you’re thinking,” Brice stated.
She blinked and found him grinning at her. Naomi couldn’t help but return his smile. “You don’t want to know.”
His gaze briefly moved away as the smile disappeared. “Look, I have a sister and a niece. If there is something going on, you shouldn’t be investigating on your own. Find someone to help. Even if it’s nothing more than watching your back. Because if anyone is stalking Whitney, they’ll be examining you now, as well.”
“Thanks for the tip. And the help earlier,” she said and lifted the camera.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save it.”
She swallowed, trying to think of something to say that would keep him talking more. Then someone honked a horn, loud and long.
Brice shook his head as he chuckled. “That’s my brother. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
He tipped his hat and walked away. Naomi watched him go. Brice Harper reminded her of all the things she loved about Texas and cowboys. It was the first time since she had left for college that she wondered why she hadn’t returned for good.
Chapter 4
The drive back to the ranch was as silent as Brice thought it would be. The radio was paired with his phone and played Dwight Yoakam’s “A Thousand Miles from Nowhere.”
He glanced at Caleb, but his brother was slouched in the passenger seat with his hat pulled over his eyes—his way of removing himself from any conversation. Brice turned up the volume and drummed his fingers on the wheel as he stared at the white lines on the blacktop road.
His mind returned to Naomi Pierce. He smiled when he thought about finally discovering the color of her eyes. Chestnut. Warm brown with hints of orange. Stunning, expressive eyes that seized him.
That grin faded when he recalled seeing the man wrestling with her to get her camera. All Brice had wanted was to get the attacker away. He hadn’t thought of the animals or how any one of them could have fallen into the enclosures with the bulls and thus been trampled.
He’d ended up with a busted lip thanks to a lucky hit from the guy’s elbow, but Brice had landed several punches himself. The fact that he hadn’t gotten a look at the man irritated him.
If only Brice would’ve turned him around. But he’d been so intent on yanking the bastard away from Naomi that he had thought of little else. Now, Brice could walk right past this guy and never know it. And that didn’t sit well with him.
Brice pulled into the long drive that led to the ranch. Lights were still on in the house despite the late hour. Apparently, Caleb saw them too because he sat up and adjusted his hat.
As Brice drove past the house to the barn, he and Caleb looked into the windows of the dwelling to see if they could spot who was up, but he didn’t see anything.
He parked near the barns. Caleb was out before Brice turned off the ignition. He blew out a breath and opened the truck door. He was slow to rage, but Caleb was the opposite. He had always been quick to anger. Normally, Caleb cooled down just as quickly, though.
Not so with Brice. It took him a while to reach the point of furiousness. And when he got there, it took a long time for him to let it go.
So he knew the best course was to let Caleb sleep on things and then try to talk to him again in the morning. His brother could never stay mad at him longer than a few hours.
Brice made his way to the back of the trailer. Caleb had already led Jigsaw to the barn, so he got Sullivan and brought him to his stall.
When Brice went into the feed room and tried to get the buckets of food for their horses, Caleb yanked both of them out of Brice’s hand and stalked out. Brice drew in a breath and went to Jigsaw to rub his horse down and settle him for the night.
Caleb was still tending to Sullivan when Brice murmured a goodnight and headed to the house. He was quiet when he walked in through the back door and spotted Clayton putting a blanket over Abby and their two kids who were curled up together on the sofa.
Clayton motioned him to his office. Once there, Brice closed the door to keep their voices from reaching Abby and the kids and waking them.
“There was a thunderstorm,” Clayton said as he poured two glasses of bourbon.
Brice accepted the drink and thought about Wynter, who had feared the storms from the moment she was born seven years earlier. And whenever she got up, her brother, Brody, three years her junior, was always with her.
“How’s Abby feeling?” Brice asked.
It had come as a surprise to everyone, including Abby and Clayton, when she announced that she was pregnant eight months ago. This pregnancy hadn’t been an easy one. There were some medical issues that had Abby staying off her feet as much as possible.
Her first two pregnancies had been easy and uneventful, so when she began having issues and feeling poorly with this one, everyone grew concerned.
“She had a pretty good day,” Clayton said. “She’s ready for the baby to come.”
Brice took a sip of the alcohol and walked to the sofa, where he sat on the edge of the cushion. He looked at the glass he held between his hands.
“Caleb will calm down,” Clayton said as he sank into the chair behind his desk.
Brice lifted his gaze to meet his brother-in-law’s green eyes. “I hope so.”
“You shouldn’t have waited to tell him.”
“I know. I was trying to find a way where he wouldn’t get pissed off.”
Clayton chuckled as he finished his drink and set the empty tumbler on his desk. “This is Caleb we’re talking about.”
Brice smiled briefly. He leaned back on the sofa. “Are you upset?”
“About you going your own way?” Clayton shook his head of dark blond hair. “To be honest, I expected both you and Caleb to leave once you joined the military. This will always be your home, and y’all can stay as long as you want—which would make your sister and my kids deliriously happy. But I know that feeling of wanting to do something on your own. Abby and the kids are sad, but they understand they’ll still get to see you.”
“Sunday dinners. Always,” Brice said with a nod.
Clayton leaned back in his chair, his hands linked behind his head. “Is that all that’s wrong? I’m hoping that split lip is Caleb’s doing, but you would’ve said if you two got into a scuffle.”
Brice reached up and touched the corner of his lip. “I came upon a guy attacking a woman.”
“Attacking?” Clayton said in shocked anger as he sat up and dropped his arms.
“He was trying to get a camera from her. It seems she took a picture of him.”
Clayton frowned and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“The creep had been following the woman, Naomi, and her friend Whitney.”
“Whitney Nolan?”
“Yep.”
Brice wasn’t surprised that Clayton knew Whitney. Everyone knew the rodeo queen in the
ir small town. She was one of their local celebrities.
Clayton drew in a deep breath. “Where was Whitney’s chaperone?”
“Nowhere near them. The guy pushed Whitney down and went after Naomi. I got him off her.”
“I gather you got in your share of hits?”
“Of course,” Brice said with a flat look. “The bastard got the one elbow against my lip. But I never saw his face.”
Clayton drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Did you notice anything? Clothes, smell, anything?”
“He was in Wranglers and a black shirt.”
Clayton grunted. “That could be anyone.”
“He had dark hair. I did see that when I knocked his hat off, but that only narrows things down a little.”
“Did either of the girls see his face?”
Brice shook his head. “The lights were dimmed so the animals could sleep, but Naomi thinks Whitney knows who it was. She said Whitney had been acting apprehensive.”
“Maybe Naomi got a picture of him.”
“The camera broke.”
“Damn,” Clayton said. “With as closely guarded as the pageant girls are, I don’t understand how no one saw anything.”
Brice swirled his glass and looked at the liquid that made him think of Naomi’s eyes. “Yeah.”
“Need help looking into things?”
He lifted his eyes to Clayton and grinned. “You know I’d welcome it, but you need to be with Abby.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Clayton rose and gave him a nod on the way out of the office.
Brice remained for another thirty minutes as he finished his bourbon while watching his brother through the windows. Caleb left the barn and turned out the lights, but he didn’t come to the house. Instead, he rode the ATV out to the bunkhouse.
Which meant that Caleb was well and truly livid.
Brice stood and grabbed his and Clayton’s empty glass and brought them to the kitchen. The lights were off throughout the house, with the only illumination coming from under the cabinets in the kitchen.
Brice glanced into the living room, but the sofa was empty. After checking the door locks, he made his way upstairs to his room and showered before getting into bed.
However, he didn’t rest easy. His mind kept going from Caleb to Naomi with little sleep in between. He was grateful when dawn finally came and he could start a new day.
He dressed and went downstairs to make a mug of coffee when he heard the truck start. Brice turned and looked out the window to see Caleb pulling out with the horses already loaded into the trailer.
“At least he got Jigsaw for you,” Abby said as she waddled into the kitchen.
“I suppose. You look like shit.”
She flashed a sarcastic smile at him. “How about I put a watermelon in your stomach that presses on your bladder so you get up every thirty minutes to pee? Then I can make your boobs swell to three times their size and become so sore that just looking at them makes them hurt. Then there is the constant hunger. Oh, and let’s not forget that moving is normally impossible for the most part.”
“I can attest to that,” Clayton said as he walked down the stairs. “She hasn’t been able to put on her underwear by herself for four months.”
Abby rolled her eyes and climbed onto a barstool. “I have to toss them on the ground and work my feet into the holes.”
Brice shook his head as he dumped three teaspoons of sugar into his mug. “I don’t need to hear this.”
“Then,” Abby continued, ignoring him, “I have to scoot my feet on the floor, careful not to let the panties come off until I can get to the bed. That’s when I lay back and lift my legs up so that my underwear can fall down enough so I can grab them and pull them on.”
Clayton grinned at Brice. “That was the routine for a while. Now that she can’t bend at all, I dress her.”
Brice brought his mug to his lips to hide his smile.
“I hate you both,” Abby grumbled and slid from the stool to walk to the fridge.
“Sit, baby,” Clayton said. “I’ll make breakfast.”
Abby busted out crying as she stood in the open fridge. Brice frowned as Clayton comforted her. After a moment, Abby lifted her face and sniffed loudly. “You mean, I can eat all by myself? Without sharing food with the kids?”
“That’s right,” Clayton said, rubbing her back.
Which only made Abby cry harder.
Brice couldn’t remember his sister acting like this when she carried Wynter or Brody, but maybe he’d just missed those episodes.
While Clayton got Abby comfortable, Brice cooked the eggs and bacon. He managed to snag one slice of salty goodness before Abby devoured the rest.
Once she’d scraped her third serving from her plate, she pushed it away and looked at Brice. “Clayton told me about Naomi and Whitney. I want to help.”
“Abby,” Brice began the same time Clayton said, “Honey.”
She held up a hand to silence them both. “From the house. I’m not an idiot. I have enough trouble getting up and down the stairs. When I was awake last night, I started thinking. The organizers of the rodeo pageant are very strict, but that doesn’t mean things don’t happen.”
“Nothing has been in the papers or news,” Clayton said.
Brice raised his brows. “And there has been no talk amongst those in the rodeo, which you know there would have been.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not out there.” Abby grinned. “It’s all about asking the right people.”
Brice traded a look with Clayton. “If you can find anything, I’d like to know, but I don’t think you will. All I have to go on is that Whitney wanted me and Naomi to drop it, and Naomi said her friend was anxious.”
Clayton pushed a glass of orange juice to Abby. “I’ll do some checking on my own. Discreetly, of course.”
“Thanks,” Brice said, suddenly eager to get back to the rodeo so he could find Naomi.
He hadn’t asked if she was staying, but hopefully, she would be around for a little while.
Chapter 5
Brice Harper was certainly on her mind. Naomi flipped the switch and waited for the red light of the darkroom to flicker on.
She looked around the space, which was significantly larger than the one she had. Then again, this one was for a community college. She had fought all night against opening her camera to see how much was broken, but if there were even a chance that she’d gotten the guy on film, she wanted to take all the precautions.
So she’d driven her rental car to the college early that morning and spoke to the professor, who’d gladly allowed her into the darkroom.
Naomi set the camera on the table and gently opened the compartment with the film. She cringed when she heard the various broken parts falling. She would see to the camera later. Right now, her focus was on the film.
She took her time removing the roll. With methodical purpose, she set about making a contact print of the negatives as a reference to see which images to save.
Bent over the table, Naomi searched the squares until she came to the last set before the camera had been torn from her hands. There were four images she decided to print.
Naomi put the negative on the enlarger and controlled the focus. Then she decided to give additional exposure to the areas of the pictures that were shadowed to, hopefully, better see the attacker. The burning process added another layer to the time it took to print the photos.
Next, she exposed a sheet of photographic paper to the enlarged image before moving the sheet into a tray of chemicals. As she waited for that image to process, Naomi moved on to the next one.
Once all four were sitting in the chemicals, she pulled out the other rolls of film from the day before and made contract prints of each of them, as well. When she found the roll that had the pictures she’d taken of Brice and his brother, Naomi opted to print three more photos.
It wasn’t long before she had the seven photos hanging up to dry.
She checked her phone then and saw that she had missed a call from Whitney and another from a local number.
Naomi sent Whitney a quick text to let her know where she was, then tried a reverse search on the unknown number to no avail. The caller hadn’t left a message. Normally, Naomi wouldn’t think twice about it, but after the previous night, she was on edge about many things.
She remained in the darkroom until all the prints were dry, looking over the photos. Despite the steps she’d taken, she still couldn’t make out the assailant’s face. But Whitney might recognize something about him.
Naomi put the pictures into an envelope and flicked the switch that shut off the red light before she turned on the regular lights. Naomi made sure to stop by the professor’s office to impart her thanks once more.
On the drive to meet up with Whitney, she thought back over the night before. After Whitney’s chaperone, Ms. Biermann, had arrived, Whitney refused to even discuss what had occurred. Even when she and Whitney were alone.
Naomi checked her watch. She had an hour before lunch with Whitney, so she stopped and dropped off her camera for repairs before buying flowers and heading to the cemetery.
She went to her family’s plots first, placing flowers on her uncle’s, father’s, and grandparents’ headstones. Naomi then made her way to Suellen’s grave.
“It’s been a while,” Naomi said as she squatted next to the tombstone and set the flowers down. “I wish you were here. Maybe then, Whitney would listen. Or, at the very least, we could gang up on her. She never did stand a chance when you and I stood together.”
Naomi let out a loud sigh. “I know something is going on with her, but I can’t figure it out. I’m used to being behind the camera, Suellen. I see things differently from that angle. Others look at the world as a whole. I see parts of it at a time. And I’m afraid I’m going to miss something that will help Whit.”
She straightened and put her hands into the pockets of her olive green jacket. “I’ll stop by and see your parents while I’m here. My mom is still a firecracker. The woman doesn’t stop. She takes oil painting classes. And she has a personal trainer. Her schedule is busier than mine will ever be. I swear, I don’t have a clue where she gets the energy.”