by LENA DIAZ,
“That might be fun. I should try that next time.”
The rain was starting to slack off, and he could see the occasional shiver rack her body. He wasn’t doing much better himself. So he motioned for her to get moving and they both headed through the woods again.
“You said you have a sister and a brother?” she asked, her teeth starting to chatter.
He studied her with concern, then took her hand in his, pulling her with him at a faster pace to keep them moving and generating body heat.
“I’ve got an older sister and a younger brother. And more cousins than I can count. My brother Scott’s got a farm not far from my patch of land, just down the road from my mom and dad. Lisa had a thriving estate auction company she’d been building since she graduated high school, if you can believe it. She was a real entrepreneur.”
“Was?” Her gaze shot to his, her brows crinkled with concern.
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that. She’s alive and well. But when she met Joey, everything changed. She sold her business, her house and most of her belongings and moved to Nashville a couple of months ago, all to support her husband’s dream of becoming a singer. Now she spends her days saying, ‘Do you want fries with that?’ and her nights saying, ‘Welcome to Walmart.’”
“She sounds like a wonderfully supportive wife.”
He snorted. “Supportive being the operative word.”
“You don’t approve?”
“Actually, I do. They’re happy. That’s what matters. I just wish she didn’t live so far away. And that she hadn’t given up her own dreams to help her husband chase his. Still, that’s her choice. And like I said, she’s happy.”
“Well, maybe he’ll hit it big and they’ll be able to afford a home back here and one in Nashville and visit a lot.”
He shot her a sideways glance. “The only way Joey’s gonna get a record deal is if his audience is deaf.”
“Ouch. That bad?”
“Trust me. In my sister’s case, love is blind. And hard of hearing.”
She shook her head, smiling. “She sounds like someone I’d love to meet. I always wanted a sister. Can’t say I ever really wanted a brother, though. God didn’t grant the first wish but granted the second.”
“No siblings?”
“Nope. But I can’t really complain. My parents were wonderful. Overall, I was a really lucky girl to wind up with the family I had. I was blessed. And when they passed, Aunt Helen was just like a second mom. So I guess I was twice blessed.”
He squeezed her hand in his. “Sounds like we’ve both been blessed.”
The happiness in her eyes faded and the hollow, empty look that he’d seen in them way too much today was back again. He stopped and pulled her around to face him. She looked up in question, and he couldn’t resist gently wiping her horribly matted hair back from her face. The shiver that swept through her body could have been from the cold. But he couldn’t help hoping part of it was because she liked his touch.
“I know things are pretty bleak right now,” he told her. “And you’re probably thinking all our blessings are in the past. But whatever happens, I just want you to know that I’m feeling blessed today.”
Her eyes widened. “You must have a fever. You’re delirious.”
“No, I’m serious,” he assured her. “This is the most miserable day, and night, that I’ve spent in my entire life. But in the midst of all of that, you’ve made me laugh and smile. I don’t know anyone else who could have done that.” He cupped her face. “Thank you, Piper Caraway. Meeting you has been a true gift.” He pressed a soft kiss against her lips.
A single tear glinted in the moonlight and slid down her cheek as she stared up at him.
He gently wiped it away. “Come on. We have to keep moving.”
They trudged across the muddy ground, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist, both of them helping each other keep moving. The rain finally stopped. But the damage had been done. Both of them were bone-deep cold and shivering.
How long until dawn? Until they’d be able to stop and soak in the sun’s warming rays? Until the temperatures would raise once again and the constant threat of freezing to death would be over? He’d lost all track of time. It seemed like it had been an eternity since they’d begun their trek down this mountain. Was there even a chance now that they could make it long enough to feel the sun on their faces again?
The familiar clicking sound of Piper’s teeth chattering had him looking around the woods in frustration. “There has to be a cave around here somewhere. The Smokies up near Gatlinburg are riddled with them. I don’t expect this part of the Appalachians to be all that different. We need to make that our priority. Finding a cave.”
“Don’t bears use those caves?”
“There’s this amazing thing called hibernation during the winter. Ever heard of it?”
Her cheeks, already red from the cold, flushed even redder. “Give my feeble mind a break. I’m not exactly firing on all pistons at the moment.”
He really hated Palmer and his men right now.
“Change of tactics. Instead of keeping an eye out for caves, let’s listen for waterfalls.”
She frowned. “Waterfalls? How’s that supposed to get us warmed up?”
“The water scoops caves out of the rock. Where there are waterfalls, there are usually caves. Caves mean shelter. Shelter means warmth. Come on. Let’s find a waterfall.”
Chapter Nine
Colby’s tactic of talking to keep Piper from shutting down was running out of steam. He’d told her all about his SWAT team and nearly every funny story from his childhood that he could remember. He was running out of stories and she was asking fewer and fewer questions. It was time to draw her out, make her do the talking.
“Spoiled little rich girl, huh?” He climbed a small boulder to check on a shallow depression above it.
She swayed on her feet below and blinked slowly as if it took more energy than she had left to figure out what he’d just said.
“Spoiled?” she asked. “Wait. Did you just call me spoiled?”
The depression was too shallow for all but the smallest animal to use as shelter, so he jumped back down. He winced when his numb foot came alive at the feel of a sharp twig piercing it. He yanked it out of his soggy sock and threw the stick down.
Piper was looking at him, a hint of curiosity in her dull green eyes. Just enough curiosity to keep her from drifting off into whatever fantasy land she kept disappearing to as they walked along, hunting waterfalls and caves like a drunk searching for unicorns and fairy dust.
He took her hand and tugged her forward again. “Palmer called you spoiled, right? That’s what you said, that he called you a spoiled little rich girl. Why would anyone think that? Are you sure you aren’t rich?”
She snorted, a spontaneous, extremely unladylike snort.
Colby had never heard anything so beautiful. It was proof that the delightful spunky woman he’d met just—what, twelve, fifteen, twenty?—hours ago was still in there somewhere.
“Does that mean yes, of course you’re spoiled and rich, or no, you’re as poor as a field mouse and as grounded as a hibernating bear?”
She gave him an aggravated look. “M-making fun of my bear f-fears again?”
Her chattering teeth drew her words out, but at least she was talking and making sense.
“Of course not. Still waiting to hear about you being spoiled and rich, though.”
“T-told you we were never r-rich. Sp-spoiled in some w-ways, I can buy that, if we’re talking about when my p-parents were still alive. But m-money was always t-tight. Daddy put everything he had back into the r-ranch. He said we owed it to the people counting on us for a living to make the business our number one priority.”
“He sounds like a good man.”
“He was. Ver
y. They both were.”
“Your mom was a man, too?” He held his hands out in a placating gesture. “No judging. Just asking.”
She rolled her eyes. “You need to work on the comedy routine.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me deeply.”
She laughed, a real laugh this time. And her teeth weren’t chattering nearly as violently as before. He held up another low-hanging branch so she could duck beneath it.
“How old were you when your parents died and your aunt Helen took you in?”
A faraway look entered her eyes. “Fourteen. They were killed in a car accident. I lost them and my home at the same time. Aunt Helen didn’t live in Lexington and refused to move to the ranch. Instead, she hired a guy barely out of high school, Billy Abbott, to manage the business. Thankfully he did a pretty good job because the place is still standing. And he didn’t hold it against me when I let him go after taking over the ranch as an adult. I rehired him later on when I realized I needed help with the business end of things.” She waved her hand in the air as if clearing away memories. “Anyway, I had to move to Paducah with my aunt, a few hours from the only home I’d ever known. You could say I took it out on her, both my grief and my resentment. Poor Aunt Helen. I was awful, a brat, rebellious.” A smile curved her lips. “But she loved me as if I were her own. No matter what I did, she was always there for me. Looking back now, I guess I really was spoiled.” Her mouth tightened in a hard line. “That part Palmer got right.”
He stepped over a small boulder in their way and lifted her to the other side. She smiled her thanks and trudged through the rain-slick leaves and pine needles littering the ground.
“Piper. What all did Palmer tell you? I remember him talking about your mom and saying that she was nice to him.”
“She baked him chocolate chip cookies.”
“But you don’t remember him?”
“No. When I try to picture him, I come up blank.”
“How long ago did your mom pass away?”
She looked down at the ground.
“Piper.” He paused and gently tilted her chin up. “It’s important. You said you were fourteen. How many years ago was that?”
“You’re not supposed to ask a woman her age.”
“Piper.”
“About ten, okay. Why?” She started forward again and he hurried to catch up.
“I would have been sixteen,” he said. “And I figure Palmer is a good three or four years older than me. So he’d be around nineteen or twenty. Did he say he knew you back then? That you ever spoke to each other?”
She shook her head. “He only talked about my mom.” She frowned. “The only way I could have known him was if he was at my school or on the ranch. It couldn’t have been school since he’s so much older. And there weren’t any ranch hands named Todd Palmer.”
“Maybe that’s not his real name. Did your mom work outside the ranch?”
“No. She rarely ever left home. Dad went into town when they needed supplies. Cooking and cleaning and trying to keep me from killing myself with all my shenanigans was a full-time job for mom.”
“So if she met him, it would have been at your home. Think hard. Try to picture him younger, probably slimmer, maybe even gangly. Guys take a while to grow into their frames and fill out. He could have been skinny, which would make him seem even taller than he is now. Dark hair. Maybe he wore it longer.” He looked over at her, studied her face. “Anything?”
“No. Sorry. Nothing.” She grabbed his hand, her brow furrowed in concentration as she walked. “Wait. He said that kidnapping us was never about the horse. But if it’s not about Gladiator, what’s it about? The Piper Ann part is really confusing me.”
“Confusing how?”
“My middle name isn’t Ann. It’s Leigh. The only one who ever called me Piper Ann was my father. It was a running joke between my parents because they argued at the hospital over what my middle name should be. Mom felt like Ann was too generic, so she picked Leigh. She liked the uniqueness of spelling it L-e-i-g-h instead of L-e-e. Said it was special. But for Ann, she said all she could do was maybe add an e at the end. They both seem generic to me, but I guess I can see her point.” She waved a hand. “The point is that legally my middle name is Leigh. No one ever called me Piper Ann except my father. If Palmer thinks my name is Piper Ann—”
“Then he heard it from your father.”
“Exactly. He obviously met both of them, spoke to both of them. Maybe he saw me from a distance and knew I was their daughter, because Dad said something about me and called me Piper Ann. That could have happened. That has to be what happened.”
“Did you know all of the people who worked on your ranch? Back when your parents were alive?”
“Absolutely. Mom loved to bake and made cookies and sweet breads for everyone who worked for us. But I was usually the one who’d take them out to the stables or to the barns to hand them out.”
“So Palmer didn’t work on the ranch.”
“I really don’t think so.”
“But he likely had to have been there, at least a few times to have met your mom, since you said she rarely left the ranch. But he wasn’t a regular or he’d have met you and you’d remember him. Thanks, Piper. That helps.” He held up a branch for her to pass under.
“I don’t see how that helps,” she said.
“It gives us some parameters for an investigation. We can focus on your mom mainly, and partly on your dad, which means going back ten-plus years. You’ll have to try to remember their routines and where they went. If we can figure out how they could have met Palmer without you meeting him, that might help us figure out the connection between them. And that could help us determine what his motivation is, why it’s not about the horse.”
She shook her head. “In all this time that we’ve been out here, I haven’t even thought about Gladiator.”
He waved his hand at their surroundings. “You’ve had a few other things to worry about. I think Gladiator would understand.”
She laughed bitterly. “We both have plenty of other things to worry about, for sure. But I hope he and that gelding you took are both okay.”
Colby frowned. “If it wasn’t about the horse, then why did he go to such trouble to steal your prize Friesian?”
She shrugged. “To get me to follow him? He certainly didn’t try to hide the fact that he was traveling the fair circuit. He registered my horse under his real name. He had to know I’d catch up to him eventually. Maybe he wanted me away from the ranch, so he could abduct me?”
He shook his head. “That’s a convoluted way to get you alone. Why go to so much trouble? Do you have incredible security that would have prevented him from sneaking onto your land and grabbing you?”
“Not really. I mean, there’s a fence, but it’s designed to keep horses in, not people out. I hop over it all the time. The house has locks of course, but no alarm. I do have a ranch hand who doubles as a security guard at the stables. His name is Ken Taylor. I hired him a few months ago, after the mishaps started, to ensure that nothing happened to any of the horses.”
The fact that she’d hire a security guard to watch over her horses, instead of worrying about her own personal safety, had him mentally swearing. He respected her love for her animals. But the woman needed to learn to put herself first. He drew a steadying breath rather than lecturing her on personal safety. It wasn’t his place, and it was a moot point given their current predicament. Instead, he asked, “What kinds of mishaps?”
“Things being misplaced or broken, far more than usual. It could all be a coincidence. That’s what Sheriff O’Leary thinks. He’s been out half a dozen times in response to my calls and he’s the one who recommended Ken Taylor to me, for peace of mind. But he’s never found any evidence of true foul play.” She shrugged. “Until this thing with Gladiator, I figu
red we were just having a bad run of luck that was, unfortunately, hurting our bottom line and causing financial trouble. It’s kind of crazy, too. Just three months ago I was planning a major expansion. I was going to add a whole new wing to the stables. Had the plans all drawn up and construction scheduled. Now that’s a pipe dream unless I can turn things around.”
“Can all of the problems with your ranch be traced to a few months ago?”
Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t really thought about the timing before. But yeah, I guess so, pretty much. Right at about two months.”
“Hired any new ranch hands in those two months? Someone who might hold a grudge against you?”
She shrugged. “Why would anyone have a grudge? As far as hiring new people, they come and go all the time. About half are long-term employees. But the rest are part-time.”
“How many ranch hands do you employ?”
“Twenty or so.”
He whistled. “That’s a lot of people. You must have a huge ranch.”
“Big enough. But the profit margin isn’t great these days, so it’s not much of a moneymaker. Honestly, I’d probably sell off half the land and downsize the business tremendously to ease the stress of trying to make ends meet if it wasn’t for the fact that I employ so many people. I can’t just let them go. They need their jobs. They have families to feed. Even the part-timers rely on seasonal work to make ends meet. A lot of them are repeaters, coming back the same months every year.”
He smiled, already hearing the lecture his own father would give Piper if he heard her talking that way. Business was business and his dad would say that you had to make tough decisions to keep from going bankrupt. His father wouldn’t have thought twice about letting people go and downsizing if that’s what would keep the bottom line healthy. His father wasn’t unkind or unfeeling. He’d give each person a generous severance package to tide them over until they found new employment. But his reasoning was that he was saving jobs by not risking the entire operation going under. The fact that Piper was too softhearted to do the same wasn’t a bad thing in Colby’s view. It meant that she was generous and kind, qualities which seemed to be in scarce supply these days.