Page 75 of The Search

“What’s wrong?” Logan asked as Sarah shooed Monty in the front door. “What did you see?”

“Nothing.”

His gaze narrowed on her face.

“Nothing,” she repeated. “I just felt . . . something wasn’t right. I know it sounds crazy. But I’ve learned to go with my instincts.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy at all. I imagine you’ve developed very good instincts over the years.” He took out his phone. “I’ll call security and ask Franklin to check out the area for any sign of Rudzak.”

“If there’s any threat, it’s more likely that ranchers have found out I’m taking care of Maggie. They might have decided to teach me a lesson.” She made a dismissive gesture. “As I said, it’s probably nothing but maybe I’ll take Monty out after dark from now on.”

“Good idea.” He spoke into the phone. “Franklin, what’s happening up there?”

“Come on, Monty.” Sarah headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get you some fresh water.”

Logan hung up as she finished filling Monty’s dish. “No one’s been sighted but they’re checking.”

“I told you, I didn’t see anything.” She moved toward the back porch and Maggie. “But if it was one of those ranchers, it won’t hurt for them to know they’re not alone out there.”

“Are you letting me win?” Sarah leaned back in her chair and gazed at Logan suspiciously. “I’m good, but you can’t be this bad.”

“Believe me, I am. Poker’s not my game. I’ve never been into instant gratification. I’m better at chess.”

She studied him and then nodded slowly. “I can see it. Strategy and war games. I’ve never gotten into chess. I vote for instant gratification every time.”

“Who taught you to play poker? Someone on the search team?”

“No, my grandfather. When I was a kid, we’d sit here before the fire and play for hours.”

“What about your mother?”

“She lived in Chicago. She didn’t like it here.”

“But you did.”

“I loved it.” She grimaced. “And I loved getting out of the city. It was dirty and crowded and—” She stood up. “I’m thirsty. Want some lemonade?”

“Please.”

“It’s not as cool as it usually is this evening.” She went to the refrigerator. “Maybe we should put out the fire.”

He crossed to the fireplace. “Your mother liked the city?”

“She liked lights and movies and bars and people. Lots of people. She got bored a lot.” She gave him the frosty glass. “She was married four times.”

“Tough for you.”

“I survived.” She sat down and stretched out her legs. “In fact, I was lucky. I got to go to my grandfather for a while every time she got married. I liked that. The third time she let me stay for two years.”

“Why didn’t she just turn over custody?”

“She’d get lonely. She had to have someone around.”

“Nice.”

She looked at him over the rim of the glass. “Look, I’m not complaining. That’s just the way things were. I wasn’t abused. Some people are just needy.”

“But not you.”