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So why would Treyton buy it? It made no sense. Or maybe it did. Suspicious, Pickett had put the coordinates into his pickup’s navigation system. He hadn’t gone far when he’d spotted Treyton driving out of town—not in a McKenna Ranch pickup with the logo on the side—but his own truck. He had no choice but to follow him since he had a feeling they were going to the same place. He became even more convinced when he spotted a tarp covering a load of something in the bed of the pickup.
Tailing someone in this part of the country wasn’t easy, though. There was little to no traffic on a normal day on the main two-lane. So Pickett stayed back. He wasn’t worried. According to his navigation system, he and Treyton definitely appeared to be headed for the same place. They had gone quite a few miles when in the far distance ahead, he saw Treyton turn off onto a dirt road heading deeper into the badlands.
Pickett backed way off, catching only glimpses of Treyton’s truck ahead of him. As suspicious as he was, he felt uncomfortable following the oldest McKenna. Holden wouldn’t like it. Worse, Pickett should be at work right now. He’d hardly worked at all since returning from New York.
Worse, he was losing daylight. He caught brake lights flash on the back of Treyton’s pickup in the distance. Almost there, he thought as he checked his nav system and Treyton’s truck disappeared over a rise.
Pickett slowed. He let the truck coast, the growing darkness forming shadows in the rough terrain. This area was rocky, harsh, but beautiful in its own way.
Before the top of the rise, he rolled to a stop, put the pickup into Park and got out quietly. He wasn’t sure how far Treyton had gone past the hill in front of him as he walked toward the crest and peered over.
Treyton had stopped down in the bottom next to a couple of old buildings that looked like mining shacks. He had begun unloading what looked like equipment and supplies into one of the larger shacks. Pickett couldn’t tell exactly what the supplies were from this distance. Maybe Treyton was planning to mine. Maybe Pickett was all wrong about what the oldest McKenna was up to.
It was too dark to take a photo with his phone. Not that it mattered. He had a pretty good idea what was going on.
He walked back to his pickup, debating what to do. Calling the sheriff might have been at the top of his list if Stuart wasn’t in the hospital in Billings. But there was also the fact that unless the supplies incriminated Treyton, Pickett had no proof of anything. There was also the fact that Treyton was Holden McKenna’s son, and Pickett worked for the family. Until he had proof of his suspicions, he had to keep this under his hat.
Climbing into his truck, he started to call Duffy when he remembered that he’d turned his phone off. He turned it back on. No messages from either Duffy or Oakley. He decided he’d rather tell them in person, especially Oakley since they had several things to talk about.
He pocketed his phone, and backing down to the main road, headed into town, hoping she would be at the apartment.
DUFFYHADBEENmentally kicking himself all day. He’d hidden it well from Pickett, but earlier he’d overheard that damned Rusty Malone saying he’d seen Pickett go into Oakley’s apartment. He hadn’t come out until hours later—in the middle of the night.
Any questions Duffy had about what was going on with his two best friends were quickly answered. He wanted to fire Rusty. Instead, he told him to get his ass out on that fence that needed to be mended. By the time he saw Pickett, he’d calmed down and hadn’t said anything.
But it was like a burr under his saddle all day. Pickett and Oakley. It would ruin their friendship. It would leave him out in the cold. He felt betrayed. True, it wasn’t like after one kiss he and Oakley... Hell, clearly, the kiss they’d shared hadn’t meant anything to her. She’d thought he was just goofing around.
He thought about earlier. Oakley had said she would call as soon as she knew the location of the well to be drilled as early as in the morning. It was starting to get dark. Why hadn’t he heard from her? Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she was leaving him out of it. Maybe it was just going to be her and Pickett.
Like hell, he told himself.
He’d find the drilling spot. But he knew he’d better find it before it got too dark. He headed for the stables to saddle up.
Something else was bothering him, he realized as he swung up into the saddle. Earlier at dinner, his father had asked Holly Jo how things were with her. “Everything all right at school?”
She’d looked up as if she, too, had been as deep in thought as he’d been, then quickly dropped her eyes to her plate. “Fine.”
Something was wrong, Duffy had thought. He’d promised himself that he’d get her alone and find out if that boy Gus was still bothering her. If so, he’d take care of it.
PICKETTWASDRIVINGthrough Powder Crossing when he saw Oakley loading something into the back of her pickup. He swung in next to her truck. “Hey,” he said as he put down his window.
He couldn’t believe how glad he was to see her. Not that this was anything new. She was like sunshine for him, always brightening any day he was around her.
She looked surprised to see him, then her face clouded over as she shut the tailgate on her pickup and walked over to his driver’s side window.
“Archibald, right?”
His heart dropped. “Who—”
“CJ with that stupid smirk on his face.”
“I tried to tell you last night.”
“Not hard enough,” she said. “What else haven’t you told me?”
“Let me explain—”
She stepped back. “Was this the surprise you had for me Saturday night?”
