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As he rode closer, he saw Lottie. She had her head down, her shoulders slumped, her face crumpled in pain. It was all he could do not to rush to her as he desperately wanted to take her into his arms and relieve at least some of that horrible hurt. But he’d lost that right a whole long time ago. He knew she must be devastated. She had been devoted to CJ. She’d believed he was the future of the ranch.
Still, he drew his horse up short and dismounted, ground-tied his horse then moved toward the woman. Lottie. Once his Lottie. “It will come back.”
She looked up, straightening, at the sound of his voice. There was such an emptiness in her expression as if she’d lost too much and could no longer feel the pain. “The grass will grow come spring,” he said as he took a step toward her. “New cottonwoods will sprout along the creek bank.”
“It won’t ever be the same,” she said, but not with her usual bitterness, not with her usual conviction, either.
“No,” he agreed as he stopped within a few feet of her. “Things change. It’s the nature of the universe. But not all things, Lottie.”
LOTTIE. HISNICKNAMEfor her stabbed a hole in her already battered heart. She turned away to swallow the bitterness that rose in her throat. She’d known he would come. Wasn’t that why she’d ridden out here today?
But she wasn’t up for a fight. All the fight had been knocked out of her over the past twenty-four hours. Just the sight of this place where her daughter had almost drowned... CJ might not have been holding Oakley’s head under, but he was just as guilty as the man he’d hired—if not more so.
“It will be all right,” Holden said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him step even closer.
She couldn’t bear to look at him for fear that she would reach for him, grab him and pull him to her and never let him go. All the wasted years, all the ache, all the need, all the sleepless nights. All because she had never gotten over this man.
“Why are you here?” she asked, still not looking directly at him.
“Where else would I be? I’m so sorry about CJ. Also, I knew how much this spot meant to you, because it means so much to me.”
She felt hot tears fill her eyes; sobs closed her throat. “Why?” she asked on a sob, knowing that she was asking how they’d gotten to this point. She felt his hand on her shoulder. A part of her screamed for her to shrug it off, to push him away, as she had for years.
But she was no longer strong enough. Instead, she reached up and laid her hand over his. It felt warm and strong, and wonderfully and painfully familiar.
“Does it matter all that much how we got here?” he asked quietly. “We’re here, Lottie. Through it all, we’re here.”
She shook her head, that bitter, blackened part of her still fighting the one thing she wanted more than her next breath. “I don’t know that I can ever forgive you.”
“Let me help you try,” he said and gently pulled her into his arms.
She rested her head against his chest, letting out all her anguish. Even as she cried, she told herself that she’d never be able to face him—or herself—after this. It had been years since she’d let him see her this vulnerable. She had promised herself she never would again.
But right now she could do nothing more than hold tight to him, leaning into him, letting it all come out here in this spot where he’d given her such joy—and such sorrow.
THESHERIFFHADbeen relieved when after searching the Turner Ranch where Rory Eastwood’s pickup had been found in the reservoir, his body hadn’t turned up. He was hoping that the man was alive as he tried to remember what Abigail had said that day in the car.
He couldn’t remember a lot of it. Shock? Trauma? Or just plain old fear? He had trouble recalling her exact words. Once she’d pulled the knife, things had gotten really fuzzy.
That was why the last thing he’d been expecting was a call from a landowner that his kids had been playing by an old well on the neighbor’s property. When he went to make sure it was securely covered, he’d shone a flashlight down in there and he’d found what sure as the devil looked like a human skeleton.
Stuart thought about sending Dodson, but quickly changed his mind. He doubted the deputy would know the difference between canine bones and human. All the way out to the ranch, he kept hoping that the rancher was wrong.
He especially hoped that was the case when he realized how close the Stafford Ranch was to the abandoned well on a neighboring ranch to the south.
He was healing fine according to the doctors, but it was going to take some time to feel steady on his feet again. The cuts would leave scars, but nothing like the scars inside him. He’d almost died. Worse, he’d done something so stupid that not even he could believe it. He wondered how long it would take to trust himself again, as he reached the ranch and saw the rancher.
After climbing out of his patrol SUV, he walked over to where the rancher was waiting for him next to the hole in the ground. The west was littered with old homestead wells, dangerous to animals and humans alike. Because of that, it wasn’t that unusual to find bones in the bottom.
Shining his flashlight down into the well, he saw the pile of bones. Leaning closer, he shone the light around the rocky bottom until he found the one thing that would convince him. The human skull.
He swore under his breath before thanking the rancher, saying, “I’ll take it from here. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this between us.” Even as he said it, he figured it was too late. He thought about calling the coroner, but from the condition of the bones, even he could tell that they’d been there for a while.
Stuart called Deputy Dodson. “I need you to come babysit some human remains.” He gave him directions. “Bring whatever you need for however long it takes. I’ve called state forensics but it’s going to take them a while to get here.”
“You have to be kidding. If they’re human remains, they aren’t going anywhere. Wait, who do you think they belong to?” Dodson proved that he was smarter than Stuart often thought. “Rory Eastwood? Wait, next to the Stafford Ranch in a well? It can’t be. You think it’s the missing husband, Dixon Malone. That’s why you called in the state boys.”
“Let’s not speculate until we have more information,” the sheriff said. “I just don’t want anyone messing with what could be a crime scene.”
