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“No way!” she sputtered. “You can’t march over here with ridiculous accusations and then start tearing the ranch apart board by board! Your stallion is probably just lost, and I’m not about to let you turn this place upside down just because you ‘suspect’ Black Magic was stolen. If that’s the case, go to the sheriff! If not, just give me five minutes to change.”
He spread his palms, and an ingratiating smile stole across his bearded chin. “By all means . . .”
Goaded, she stomped out of the room and took the stairs two at a time. Her mind was spinning as she tied her hair away from her face and yanked on a pair of jeans. Cassie didn’t believe Black Magic had been stolen—not for a minute. The cut wires were just an accident. Most likely someone had been repairing the ancient fence earlier in the day. As soon as she spoke with her father, the downed fence would be explained. And Colton McLean would have to eat crow!
Smiling at that thought, she pulled a wheat-colored sweater over her head and hurried back to the kitchen.
Colton was leaning against the door, one booted foot propped on the seat of a chair as he stared impatiently through a rain-spattered window. Thick brows converged over his eyes, and his face was a hard, rough-hewn mask. He’d matured in the past eight years. Living a dangerous life as a photojournalist who snapped pictures of war-ravaged political hot spots had stolen any trace of boyishness from his face. Even his coffee-colored hair had a few strands of gray at the temples, and his skin was lined near the corners of his eyes.
“You won’t see anything from here,” she pointed out.
He swung his gaze back to hers, and for just an instant she remembered him as he had been, handsome and warm. He’d smiled often then, his irreverent grin spreading from one side of his tanned face to the other. There had always been a dangerous side to him—his temper was infamous—but there had been a kind side, too, and she’d loved him with all of her naive young heart. There had been a few other boys she’d had crushes on while growing up, but deep in her heart, from the time she had turned fourteen, she’d harbored a love for Colton so deep it had kept her awake at night. But that was years ago, she reminded herself.
“Let’s go,” he said gruffly.
Without a word she swept past him. On the back porch she snatched her faded jacket and a flashlight from the cupboard, then tugged on her boots.
Outside, the wind slashed at her face. Rain peppered the ground and slid down Cassie’s collar as she followed her flashlight’s unsteady beam. She half ran to keep up with Colton’s long strides.
“Don’t upset the horses,” she warned.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good.” She reached for the door. “Several mares are due to foal, and I don’t want anything disturbing them.”
He slanted her a hard glance. “I’m not interested in your mares. I just want to find Black Magic.”
“Then you’re going to be disappointed.”
“It won’t be the first time,” he said, his gaze locking with hers. For an instant she hesitated, lost in his stare. Her throat felt suddenly swollen and hot.
Giving herself a mental shake, Cassie strode inside. The familiar smells of oiled leather, warm animals and horse dung mingled with the dust. She snapped on the lights.
Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and a fine layer of grime covered the windows. Horses snorted and rustled the straw scattered over the floor of their stalls. Inquisitive dark heads poked over the top rails, and a few mares nickered at the sight of Cassie.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, petting each velvet-soft muzzle thrust her way.
Colton’s gaze swept the boxes, taking in every detail, each swollen-bodied mare and shifting, nervous stallion. One wild-eyed gray pawed anxiously in his stall, tossing his head at the unfamiliar scent of Colton. “Friendly guy,” Colton observed dryly.
“Like you,” she shot back.
Colton’s boots echoed against the concrete floor. “Black Magic’s not here,” he muttered under his breath. His face was drawn, his expression clouded.
Cassie felt like smirking. “Satisfied?”
“Not yet.”
“Come on, Colton,” she jibed, unable to hide the sparkle in her eyes. “Admit it. You were wrong.”
“Aren’t there any other barns?”
“Just for the cattle—”
“Let’s check them.”
“No!” She reached for the door, wrenched it open and flipped off the lights in one swift motion. “I put up with this—this stupid idea of yours, just to prove that you were wrong about Dad. But I’m not about to let you rip apart every blasted building on the ranch just to prove my point!”
He moved swiftly, curling his hand around her upper arm. “I’d like to think that your old man is as honest as you claim he is,” he said slowly, his eyes glittering dangerously in the darkness. “But I’ve got to be sure. Your family has a history of lying.”
