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“With this case, I don’t know if that’ll happen.”
“Oooh. Sounds intriguing. You’ll have to fill me in.”
“I have way more than the case to fill you in on.” Just hearing Harper’s voice burned the desire to spill it all. It was her bestie’s brilliant and extremely annoying gift.
“I’ll be there soon.”
“I’m not at home....”
“Okay. You gave me a key last time. I can let myself in.”
“No. It’s not safe.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“WHAT DO YOU MEANit’s not safe?”
As much as she didn’t want to admit they were in danger, and how much she didn’t want to stay on a ranch with Deckard MacLeod, based on the last twenty-four hours and two attempts on their lives, it couldn’t be denied.
“I’ll explain it when you get here. Let me make a call, and I’ll call you right back.”
She dialed Christian.
“Hey,” he answered. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, clearing any trace of sorrow from her voice. “My friend Harper is surprising me, and she’ll be here in an hour. I hate to tell her to turn around.”
“Tell her to come to the ranch.”
“Are you sure we won’t be imposing?”
“Not at all.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll let her know.”
Calling Harper back, she gave the address and the promise she’d explain when she arrived. She wouldn’t have to explain Deckard. Harper knew it all.
Andi followed Christian up a steep incline, leaving the town in the distance. They continued climbing until finally they turned down a narrow dirt drive winding around the mountain’s top rim, where they reached a plateau, and the driveway grew straight. Shalecliffs stood in the distance, pinions and evergreens dotting the landscape. Soon cattle paddocks came into view, and horses galloped in the distance.
It was beautiful.
A few minutes later, they drove under a sign withSecond Chances Ranchin large black letters against silver metal.
Unique name choice, one that hit a strong chord. She’d gotten a second chance thanks to Grant, but unless she discovered who’d set her up, she couldn’t truly move on. Seeing Deckard and Adam again had drilled that home.
Soon a sprawling adobe house came into view. Its large front porch with exposed wooden beams standing every five feet joined the adobe slab to the stucco roof, windchimes dangling from it. A large horse pen stood to their right, and at least a half dozen horses appeared over the rise, galloping for the fence.
She pulled to a stop parallel to Christian in the oversized dirt driveway and had barely shifted to climb out when Christian opened the door for her.
“Thanks.” She smiled.
He offered his hand, and she took hold of it, stepping down to the running board and then the hard-packed earth below, her hand tingling at his touch.
“Beautiful place you have here,” she said, taking a wide sweep of the pastures and the large ranch house nestled against the mountainside and trying to shake the tingling from continuing up her arm. Man, how did he do it?
“That’s Deck’s house,” he said, pulling her back to the hard present of being at Deckard MacLeod’s home. “Mine’s down this way,” he continued and pointed down the lane. Her gaze followed. In the distance, past a metal barn and a wooden white one, stood what looked like something about the size of the guesthouse she lived in. Windchimes clanged in the morning breeze.
“That’s yours?” she asked, of the quaint dwelling.
