She disconnected and headed outside to find Sly.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Reelingfrom Dave Swain’s message, Sly stepped outdoors. Tim Carpenter’s accusations and countersuit—all of it was a big load of bull crap, stuff he would deal with when he contacted the attorney in the morning.
What he couldn’t handle was Lana’s off-the-cuff gut reaction to the news. Her expression had clearly revealed she suspected he’d poisoned Carpenter’s cattle. That stung and also made him mad, mostly at himself for breaking his own cardinal rule and trusting her. And for starting to care.
What a damn fool he was. He wanted to head for the barn, jump on Bee and gallop through the darkness until his mind emptied. But he needed his boots for that, and they were in his bedroom. He wasn’t about to return to the house or face her again until he pulled himself together.
Nothing to do but pace the porch in his bare feet. The motion-activated lights kicked on, and he could easily see where he was going. Step around the porch furniture.Thud-thud-thud.Pivot around and don’t think.Thud-thud-thud.
He was starting his third lap and nowhere near calm when the back door opened and Lana slipped outside. Light fromthe kitchen sliced right through the T-shirt he’d loaned her, silhouetting her naked body. The body he lusted after and couldn’t get enough of.
Even now, smarting and angry, he wanted her. Silently, he called himself every name in the book—idiot, lamebrain, stupid jerk, and a few four-letter epithets he wouldn’t use on his worst enemy.
She reached out to him. “Please, can we talk?”
“What for?” He stepped away from her. “You assume I poisoned those cows.”
On the slim hope he’d misread her, he sucked in a breath and waited for her to deny it. She didn’t.
His laugh sounded hollow even to his own ears. “You should leave.”
“Not like this.”
“That’s right—you’re wearing my shirt. Go upstairs and get your clothes.”
“That’s not what I meant, Sly, and you know it. If you want me to go, I will, but not while you’re angry. First, we have to straighten this out.”
“You should’ve thought about that before you assumed I poisoned your cousin’s cows.”
Barefoot or not, if he didn’t get some space, he’d explode. He strode down the porch steps and kept going, wincing as he stepped on pebbles and God knew what else, until he heard the kitchen door close as Lana reentered the house.
Before long she was outside again, in her own clothes, purse slung over her shoulder and keys in hand. She stopped right in front of him, just beyond the reach of the porch light. Even so, he could see the pleading gleam in her eyes.
“You wouldn’t poison anyone’s cattle,” she said. “Neither would Cousin Tim. I just... His countersuit caught me by surprise.”
Nothing she said explained the shock and horror on her face when her mother had told her about the countersuit. That Lana had suspected him, even for a moment, was unacceptable. Unbearable.
His heart constricted painfully. He’d trusted her, but she couldn’t trust him. He gave a terse nod. “Good night, Lana.”
Her mouth trembled, and for a minute he feared she was going to cry. He hoped not. He was already treading on thin emotional ice himself, hurt to the quick and barely holding it together.
But she only raised her chin and walked past him, into the darkness and toward her car.
Sly woke up Wednesday in a bum mood, and things only got worse after he spoke with his attorney. “I didn’t do it,” he told Dave.
“I know that.”
His attorney believed in him. Why couldn’t Lana? He was still kicking himself for letting his guard down last night. For allowing her to get too close.
“The question is, can you prove it to Tim Carpenter?” Dave asked.
“How in hell am I supposed to prove I didn’t do it?” Sly grumbled. “I assume he had an autopsy done on the animal that died.”
“He used the same vet as you. His heifer had arsenic poisoning. The three that are sick have the same symptoms, but they’ll probably survive.”
