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“Welcome home, Mrs. Calder,” he said, then lifted a hand to draw Tara’s attention to Sloan. “You have a visitor. Two of them.”

Surprise flickered across Tara’s flawless features as she recognized Sloan. “Sloan. What are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Tara.” Sloan jiggled the baby as his cries grew increasingly demanding.

“What’s wrong? Is the baby sick?”

“No, he’s fine. It’s Max. He’s looking for me—”

“Max? Max Rutledge? What does he have to do with you being here?” Confusion drew a tiny line across Tara’s forehead.

“Everything. Trey tried to warn me about him, but I wouldn’t listen. I was sure he was wrong and—”

Looking around, Tara broke in, “Where is Trey? Why isn’t he here?”

“I left him. It’s all very complicated, and there isn’t time to explain it all,” Sloan began.

“You argued with him over Max.” The harshness of Tara’s tone made it an accusation.

“We argued over a lot of things, but it turns out that Max was behind all of it. I didn’t know that, though, not until the other day—”

“Are you saying that you sided with Rutledge against your own husband?” Tara demanded in a contained fury.

“It was wrong. I admit that—”

“You fool! You have no idea how wrong you were! Don’t you see, he’ll never forgive you for that. Never. Good God, I should know, I made the same mistake, and it destroyed my marriage. How could you be so stupid?”

Stunned by the outrage and vehemence of Tara’s attack, Sloan had to work to find her voice. “But I can explain.” Although for the first time she wondered whether that would make any difference. “I just need to talk to Trey. If I could use your phone—”

“You don’t really think he’ll speak to you, do you?” Tara said with derision. “Even if he doesn’t hang up when he hears your voice, he’ll never believe anything you tell him. Not any more. You killed whatever trust he had in you when you walked out on him.”

“I won’t accept that. I can’t,” Sloan insisted while still trying to calm Jake’s cries. “Not for my sake, but for our son’s.”

“The baby.” Tara appeared to notice the infant in her arms for the first time. “Yes, that might be your one chance. But not over the phone. That will never work. Hurry.” She grabbed Sloan’s shoulder and gave her a push toward the open passenger door. “Get in the car.”

“But you don’t understand,” Sloan began in protest.

“You don’t realize what you’ve done. Just get in the car,” Tara ordered, then addressed her houseman. “Call the field immediately. Tell them to have my plane fueled and ready when we get there. I’m taking Sloan to Montana.”

Hearing their destination, Sloan slung the bag into the car and climbed in after it with the baby. While the houseman hurried to the front door with as much speed as he could muster, Tara turned and saw the chauffeur standing by the opened trunk, half of her luggage already sitting on the ground.

“What are you doing?” she demanded sharply. “Put those suitcases back in the trunk, and let’s go.”

With haste, he tossed them inside and closed the trunk, then moved swiftly to the driver’s side. Within seconds the car was traveling back down the lane.

Outside the Cee Bar ranch house, Quint listened while his wife’s grandfather, Empty Garner, repeated his story, almost sputtering with outrage. “I’d just pulled onto the road after fixing the fence when this young fella in shirtsleeves flags me down. When I stopped to see what he wanted, I spotted a car parked in the Rigsby’s lane. Suddenly this other fella shows up, and the two of ’em started snooping around my truck like a pair of bloodhounds. Claimed they were admiring it. Called it a classic. Classic, my foot. They were looking for something. Want’a bet Rutledge put ’em up to it?” Empty challenged.

Quint ignored the question to pose his own. “Dallas, and now you. Why? What was he hoping to find?”

“What do you mean Dallas?” The mere mention of his granddaughter shifted the focus of Empty’s attention.

“She had her vehicle searched too.” Convinced that something was afoot, Quint struck out for the house.

Startled by his sudden departure, Empty called after him, “Where you going?”

“To make a phone call and see if I can learn what this is about,” Quint replied as he crossed the covered porch to the back door.

Upon entering the house, he went directly to the corner desk in the kitchen and picked up the phone. Empty followed him inside, spotted Dallas by the sink, and immediately bombarded her with questions, seeking details of her encounter.

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