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“He couldn’t disappear without a trace!” Colton strode out of the stallion barn, ignoring the restless grunts of the other horses. Black Magic was the single most valuable asset of the McLean Ranch. And he’d vanished into thin air. “I knew I should never have agreed to stay here,” he muttered, thinking unkind thoughts of his older brother, Denver, who, with his wife, Tessa, had left Montana three weeks before in order to “tie up some loose ends” of the engineering firm he was moving from L.A. to the nearby town of Three Falls. This ranch was Denver’s business as well; Colton didn’t want any part of it.
Outside, the night was as dark as Colton’s black mood. Rain from the vast Montana sky fell relentlessly, bending the grass in the surrounding fields and turning the ground to muck.
Curtis had to run to keep up with Colton’s long strides. “If ya ask me,” he said, catching his breath, “this is all the doin’ of Ivan Aldridge.”
Jolted at the mention of a sworn enemy, Colton turned on the older man. “Aldridge? What’s he got to do with this?”
“He’s stolen Black Magic, sure as I’m standin’ here!”
“Bah!”
Curtis lifted his chin. “As sure as he stole that horse last spring, he’s taken him again.”
“Last spring? What the devil are you talking about?”
“Didn’t anyone tell you?”
Colton’s patience
snapped. He was cold and wet, and the last thing he wanted to do was stand in the driving rain and discuss Ivan Aldridge. “No one knew where I was last year,” he reminded the older man.
“Well, while you were getting shot up in Northern Ireland, Black Magic disappeared for nearly two weeks.”
Colton didn’t want to think about the bar in Northern Ireland where, six months before, someone—Colton didn’t know who—had witnessed him snapping pictures, taken offense and turned his gun on him. Colton was lucky to have gotten away with his life. “The horse escaped last spring?”
“I think he had help. No one could prove it, of course, but the way I figure it, Ivan Aldridge stole the horse, used him to service some of his mares, then let him go before anyone was the wiser.”
“That’s crazy,”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone told me last year. And then when the horse showed up, everyone got busy again and conveniently forgot that he’d been gone. No one dug very deep. The insurance company and the rest of us were relieved.”
“So what’s this got to do with Aldridge?”
“Old Ivan always swore to get even.”
Colton scowled. He knew better than anyone just how deep Ivan Aldridge’s hatred ran.
“No way. The horse hasn’t been stolen! And as for the feud—let’s not bring it all out in the open again, okay?” Colton suggested, irritated. Just the mention of Ivan brought back memories of Cassie—memories he’d sworn to destroy.
“Suit yourself.” Curtis delved into his shirt pocket for his cigarettes. “But it’s not my neck on the line. When Denver finds out the most valuable stud in the state of Montana is missing, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Maybe he never should have left me in charge.”
“Maybe you never should have agreed.”
“Don’t remind me,” Colton bit out. He needed a drink—a hot drink. Irish coffee.
Curtis cupped his hands around a cigarette and lit up. “You’re the boss,” he said, plucking a piece of tobacco from his tongue. “But if I were you I wouldn’t let my feelings for Ivan’s daughter get in the way.”
Colton took a menacing step toward the older man. “I don’t have any feelings for Cassie Aldridge.”
Curtis shrugged. “Eight years ago—”
“Eight years is a long time,” Colton cut in, closing the subject.
Curtis knew when to quit. “Okay, okay. Forget about Cassie.”
“I have,” Colton lied.
