Page 7 of Dark Side of the River

“Why would anyone shoot Oakley?” she demanded.

“I don’t know yet. The investigation has just begun. More than likely it was an accident. Maybe a hunter or—”

“Or one of those ranch hands on the McKenna place,” she snapped. “A hunter? Are you serious? It’s the end of June. There’s no hunting season open.”

He leaned forward. “This is Montana. There is always something to shoot by people who need to kill something.” He sighed. “It would help if we knew what she was doing there in the first place. Do you have any idea?”

She shook her head. “Even if Oakley was trespassing, the McKennas can’t just shoot her and get away with it.”

“Of course they can’t. But we don’t know that they did. We don’t know who shot her, Tilly. But I’m going to find out. Are you sure you don’t know what she might have been doing there?”

She didn’t. Scalding tears suddenly burned her eyes. Her sister was in the hospital fighting for her life, and what hurt was that Tilly had no idea why. She and Oakley hadn’t been close in months. She blamed herself as the older sister, because she should have noticed her sister pulling away from her.

“She’s been secretive lately like she was hiding something,” Tilly said. “I just assumed it was a man she didn’t want me to know about. Probably because I wouldn’t have approved.”

“You don’t know who?”

She shook her head before voicing her greatest fear. “What if she had hooked up with someone from the McKenna Ranch?”

“You mean like Treyton or Duffy?”

Tilly didn’t know which would be worse. The arrogant, angry Treyton, whom she’d passed on the way into the sheriff’s office. Or the youngest male McKenna, Duffy, who at thirty was wilder than Cooper and just as irresponsible. “How long has Cooper been back?”

“He said he just drove in today,” Stu said. “I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

She mugged a face at that. Stuart was Cooper’s friend. He’d always take up for him. Just the thought of Cooper reminded her of his interest in Oakley’s horse. “Was Oakley’s horse returned to the ranch? Cooper said she was worried about it.”

“You saw Cooper?”

Tilly tried not to read anything into the question or what she’d thought she’d heard in it. Was he jealous of her tumultuous history with Cooper? Their wrestling match all those years ago was made famous by that sculptor who’d taken a photo that day. Her mother had threatened to buy the sculpture and destroy it, but the piece had sold before she could get her hands on it.

There was no reason for Stuart to be jealous. The two of them had been dating for only a few weeks. It wasn’t serious. They hadn’t even gotten intimate, although she knew he was hoping that was where they were headed.

“Cooper kept asking about herhorse.” She shook her head, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. There was definitely something wrong with that cowboy.

“The horse is fine. I’m sure it’s already been returned, but I’ll double-check.” As if he could see that she was still thinking about Cooper, he said, “He didn’t shoot your sister.”

She knew that on some level. No matter how many times she’d butted heads with Cooper, she knew he wasn’t a killer.

“Tilly, anything you can tell me about your sister’s recent activities would help.”

“I’ll talk to my brothers and my mother. They might know.”

“I’ll be speaking to them and the McKennas. It would really help if we knew what she was doing on the McKenna Ranch.”

Slowly, she got to her feet. “I’ll be at the hospital. If you hear anything...”

“I’ll call you.” He started to rise to see her out, but she waved him back down and left. If he offered her more sympathy, she feared she wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears any longer.

“Just find out who shot my sister,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

ASHOLDENMCKENNAsaddled his horse, he tried to talk himself out of what he was about to do. The sheriff had said that he hadn’t been able to reach Oakley’s mother because she’d gone for a horseback ride. While he didn’t want to be the person to tell her the news, he felt strongly that it would be better coming from him.

He wasn’t using this tragedy as an excuse to see her, he told himself as he swung into the saddle and rode toward the spot where the two ranches joined. That it was a favorite place that Charlotte Stafford often rode hadn’t been lost on him. He reminded himself that he was probably on a fool’s errand. By now, she could have returned to her ranch, heard about Oakley and was probably on her way to the hospital.

But as he rode through the thick cottonwoods toward the creek that flowed into the Powder River, he spotted her. She’d taken off her boots and socks, rolled up her jeans and was now wading in the warm water. The sight of her made him catch his breath. She was still a willowy beauty even after all these years. Her hair was still long, although there were strands of silver among the gold. She still usually wore it in a braid, one long, thick plait that hung almost to her waist. But today, she had loosened the plait, letting her hair float around her slim shoulders in a golden cascade.

She was a vision, taking his breath away. It made him realize how long it had been since he’d seen her like this, relaxed, in her element, possibly even happy.

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