Page 28 of River Justice

He scoffed and pulled his hand free. “You don’t have to be psychic to suspect that. My scars are still visible.” He motioned to his arms and the pale white lines where Abigail Creed’s knife blade had sliced open his skin as she’d attacked him. Normally, he kept his arms covered, but it had been warm enough this morning that he’d worn a short-sleeve uniform shirt and left his jacket in the patrol SUV. Now he regretted it, since he didn’t need the reminder from well-meaning people of the horror he’d been through not long ago. She was right. He did still have nightmares about it sometimes.

“The nightmares must be terrifying,” Lulabelle said sympathetically. “To see her standing over you holding a knife.”

He corrected her. Abigail Creed hadn’t been standing over him. She’d been in the driver’s seat of her SUV when she’d drawn the knife from the pocket in the door and, screaming, begun stabbing him.

“I wasn’t talking about Abigail Creed,” Lulabelle said. “The dreams start out that way, but it isn’t her face you see.” He watched her eyes fill with tears. “What terrifies you is that it’s your mother holding the knife.”

CHARLOTTELEANEDAGAINSTthe side of the SUV as she watched Holden drive away with a finality that left her feeling pathetic and broken. For so many years, she’d never questioned his love. No matter how awful she’d been, he hadn’t given up on her. Until now?

The thought filled her eyes with tears that quickly ran down her cheeks. She’d done this. She had only herself to blame. She’d kept Brand from him. She’d kept the truth from him. What if he never forgave her? After all these years of pushing him away, what if this was the end?

When he’d married Margie Smith instead of her, Charlotte had been devastated. She’d thought she would die from the pain. She felt that way again now as his pickup disappeared from view.

Opening the door, she crawled behind the wheel. Her hands were shaking. She put the SUV in gear, but didn’t know where to go. Not home. Not back to that empty house. She’d pushed away everyone who loved her—even her own children. Tilly was now married to Cooper McKenna. She’d heard that he was building them a house on the McKenna Ranch. She’d also heard that Tilly might be pregnant.

Charlotte shook her head. Even if she was going to be a grandmother, it would be in name only after the way she’d treated her daughter and Cooper. CJ, the son most like her, would soon be going to trial and probably on to prison. Oakley... She shook her head again. Oakley was the daughter most like her, fiery and stubborn and so independent that she’d never needed her mother and certainly didn’t now that she was married to Pickett Hanson.

All Charlotte had left were Brand and Ryder. The two of them never gave her any trouble, staying clear of her on the ranch, doing what needed to be done and having minimal contact with the rest of the family. That too was her fault.

And now this. How could Brand ever forgive her? He hadn’t come to her after finding out the truth. Instead, he’d reached out to his father.

Realizing just how alone she was and how she’d brought it all on herself, Charlotte couldn’t seem to move. She could drive into town, but there was no one there either. She’d alienated the community as well as her family—and especially Holden and his family—for years.

She’d once had a best friend. But then Margie Smith had betrayed her by marrying Holden. Charlotte knew intellectually that Margie was young. Her father and Holden’s father put her in a position where she had little choice but to marry Holden. Still, Charlotte had never been able to forgive her for stealing her life—even when she’d learned years later that Margie was dying.

And here she was, just as Elaine had predicted, completely alone.

She reached for her cell phone. For a moment, she’d forgotten that she had one friend left in the world, the friendship no one knew about, but someone she could count on and vice versa. The line rang and was immediately picked up.

“Elaine,” she said and burst into tears.

STUARTSWOREAShe left Miles City and headed back to Powder Crossing. He cursed himself for letting Lulabelle get to him. She’d enjoyed his shock and discomfort. Psychic powers. Who knew where she got that crap? He tried to forget it, hating that his reaction had been so telling. The whole incident had left him feeling vulnerable.

His father used to say no one could keep a secret in Powder Crossing. That, at least, Stuart believed. Lulabelle dealt with the bottom-feeders, people who enjoyed digging into other people’s trash. Had Lulabelle heard something from one of them? Or had she just been fishing with what she’d said about his mother?

He knew he should put it behind him, but he couldn’t help being upset. Did she pull these same stunts with other people who came to her looking for answers?

Or did she know more than he thought? Either way, he was still shaken, because she’d hit his most vulnerable sore spot. His mother.

His cell phone rang, dragging him out of his black mood at even the mention of his mother. It was Treyton McKenna, Holden’s eldest son. “I need to talk to you,” the sheriff said. Treyton was the next name on Holden’s list. “Where are you?”

He got the surly answer he would expect from Treyton McKenna. “Why?”

“Have you talked to your father?”

“I’ve been busy. I don’t live on the ranch anymore. I bought a place of my own. So I don’t see the old man.”

“A place of your own? I can come to you. What’s the address?” Stuart heard the hesitation in Treyton’s silence.

“I’m on my way into town.”

He would have liked to see Treyton’s place for a number of reasons. He had been suspicious of the man for some time now, especially after there’d been a meth lab in the area. Whoever was running it had burned down the place, destroying the evidence, before Stuart could bust it. CJ Stafford had definitely been involved, but although they were rivals because of their families, the sheriff suspected Treyton might have been involved. It was just a gut feeling since the lab had actually been in an abandoned ranch building on the McKenna Ranch.

Disappointed, he said, “Fine, my office. Twenty minutes?” He’d pay Treyton a visit sometime in the future and check out his new digs.

“Why don’t you just tell me what this is about?”

“When I see you,” Stuart said and disconnected as he turned on his siren and lights and raced toward Powder Crossing.

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