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And then what? What if you find out your father’s been lying to you? Her legs threatened to give out on her, and she had to force herself onward.
At the door of the barn she paused, glancing down at her left hand. The diamond ring twinkled in the night, and she wondered if she’d made a gigantic mistake in not telling Colton.
“Too late now,” she whispered pragmatically, and shoved the door to the barn open again.
* * *
Colton didn’t drive back to the ranch. He was too keyed up. That foal—that new little Aldridge horse—had to have been sired by Black Magic. Cassie had seen the resemblance, too. Only a blind man wouldn’t have recognized Black Magic’s genes in the little ebony colt.
“Damn it all to hell!” he ground out, instinctively driving toward the hills. He couldn’t ignore this—act like he didn’t know. Obviously Ivan Aldridge had stolen Black Magic a year ago and bred his mare, Sylvia, to him. He must have stolen him again this year, and this time the horse could’ve died.
The Jeep hurtled off the main highway and up the twisting road leading to Garner’s Ridge and the old ghost town. Once there, he climbed out of his rig and walked the desolate main street. But he didn’t see the decrepit buildings, sagging porches or broken windows. No, each time he looked down that street, he envisioned Cassie. Cassie pointing the barrel of a gun at his chest, Cassie mussed and soiled as she pulled Red Wing’s foal into the world, Cassie laughing, moonlight caressing her face as she rode the feisty little Lamont, Cassie as a girl, seductive and innocent, the lake lapping around her legs, and Cassie now, a woman, her throat clogged as she accepted his mother’s ring, her eyes glittering with tears of happiness.
He kicked at a stone, sending it richocheting along the remains of a boardwalk, and wished he could just leave Montana and forget her. But the thought of chasing stories in war-torn countries held no allure for him. In fact, a life spent searching for the next front-page story seemed like exile. “Oh, Cassie, Cassie,” he murmured, wondering how he’d ever become so maudlin, “what am I going to do with you? Just what the hell am I going to do with you?” He dropped his head into his hands.
By the time he finally left Garner’s Ridge, the night was beginning to disappear as the eastern sky grew light. He turned into the lane of the McLean Ranch and caught a glimpse of cattle, white-faced Herefords, moving slowly through one field. This wasn’t such a bad place, he realized with a jolt that rocked him to his very soul. He could find happiness here—and peace—as long as he could leave when he felt the urge. As long as Cassie was by his side.
He parked near the garage and had barely stepped out of his Jeep when Denver, nostrils flared, blue eyes angry, strode up to him. Still wearing suit pants and white shirt from the party, Denver didn’t mince words. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Out.”
“All hell’s broken loose. Tempest died two hours ago.”
Sickening bile filled Colton’s stomach. He thought of the ornery stallion, and his throat constricted. “No—”
“It happened.”
“Damn, how?”
“Pneumonia.”
“But just yesterday he was better—much better.” He couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t.
“That was yesterday. Last night he took a turn for the worse. By the time Curtis found him, he was too far gone.”
“But the antibiotics—”
“Failed!” Denver’s dark skin was white, the lines near his mouth deep grooves.
Colton’s anger turned inward. He was the one who lost Black Magic, and he’d suspected all along who’d taken the beast. Ivan Aldridge. His soon-to-be father-in-law. “Sweet Lord,” he whispered.
“That’s not all.”
Colton’s head snapped up.
“By the time Curtis got hold of Craig Fulton, it was too late for Tempest.”
“Fulton examined him?”
“That’s right.” Denver’s eyes were dark with rage, though there was a tenderness akin to pity as he stared at his younger brother. “And he made a strange remark—one I think you should hear. He said he’d talked to another veterinarian at the Edwards’s party, and that guy knew someone up here with a horse infected with strangles.”
Every muscle in Colton’s body went rigid. “Go on.”
“Seems Vince Monroe had a horse come down with it right before Black Magic got the disease.”
“Monroe?” God, was it possible? Was he wrong about Aldridge? “The funny thing is, Craig already told Cassie Aldridge about it.”
Colton didn’t move. “When?”
