Page 50 of River Wild

“Norma, I have not been seeing your husband. It wasn’t me.” Had he taken the fudge to Willow? Had it simply been platonic? She reached in, touched the woman’s arm, thinking she could convince her how wrong she’d been, but Norma jerked it back.

“Stay away from my husband, or so help me...” The ranchwoman shifted into gear. “Best step back. Wouldn’t want to run over you.” With that she roared off, leaving Bailey standing in the road, wondering what had just happened.

Walking back to her SUV, she saw that her driver’s side door was open. Had she left it like that when she’d hurried over to confront Ralph Jones, only to find Norma behind the wheel?

Maybe, she thought as she approached the SUV more slowly, all the while looking around warily. Sometimes, for seconds and even minutes, she’d forget that the man who killed Willow was out there. Sometimes, she could even lie and tell herself that Willow’s death hadn’t been a message to her, and the man wasn’t coming for her next.

As time had passed since the murder, she’d even started to sometimes think he’d only wanted the younger version of her.

But then she reached her SUV and looked in, her heart dropping as she saw what he’d left her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

OAKLEYSTOODINthe small bathroom of the ranch cabin where she and Pickett lived while their house was being built. The light was dim, but it was too early to look anyway. She stood there trying not to make deals with God that she knew she couldn’t keep.

“You just need to relax and let it happen,” Pickett always said. “Have faith that when the time is right, we will make a baby.”

Her chest squeezed at the thought of holding their infant in her arms. She wanted this more than she had ever wanted anything—except Pickett. She’d so hoped that by the time their house was finished, she’d be looking like her sister—lumbering around with a big belly, wanting only to talk about babies.

She could feel the plastic stick dangling from the fingers of her right hand but was afraid to look. She wondered if their mother had had difficulty getting pregnant. Apparently not, given the number of children she’d had fairly quickly.

It was too late to call her—even if Charlotte was taking their calls. Her sister hadn’t had any trouble getting knocked up. Oakley hoped having unkind thoughts of her pregnant sister wasn’t going to jinx this pregnancy test.

Time was up. It was now or never. She lifted the stick up to the light and mentally crossed her fingers as her eyes burned with tears.

WHENSTUARTRETURNEDHOME, he saw at once that Bailey’s SUV wasn’t parked in front of his house. She’d said she was headed there. A lie because she hadn’t wanted to tell him what that altercation with Angie had been about?

He swore, aware that he might not see her for days or even weeks now—if she made a point of avoiding him. What was going on with her? More than just having a killer after her, apparently. He shook his head as he parked, got out and headed for his house. He’d thought he’d made some progress with Bailey, that she trusted him. Now he didn’t know what to think. Clearly there was a whole lot he didn’t understand, but apparently Angie Erickson did.

He’d just stepped inside when he heard the sound of a vehicle engine. He turned to see Bailey drive up and park. As she got out, she reached back into the back seat to pull out a twelve-pack of beer. Relief made his heart beat faster. She’d just stopped to get beer.

Their gazes met. She seemed to hesitate, but only for a moment, before she walked toward him. He told himself that the two of them would get through this together even as he doubted it in the next second. As she grew closer, he saw something heartbreaking in her face and almost reached for her.

“Stuart—” There was a catch in her voice before she rushed to him. He grabbed the beer an instant before she threw her arms around him. She clung to him, her body warm, soft in all the right places, before she kissed him. He couldn’t help but respond even as he knew in his heart that something must have happened on her way here, something that had her running scared.

Or this was a ruse to put off telling him the truth.

He didn’t care. She felt so right in his arms. He buried his hand in her wild, dark curls, losing himself in the kiss, in the scent of her, in the taste of her, the feel of her. He wanted this, wanted Bailey, body and soul, even if she broke his heart.

After a few minutes, she drew back, catching her lower lip in her teeth. She looked so young, so vulnerable. He could see the fear in those river eyes. “What is it, Bailey?”

A tentative smile played at her lips before she shook her head. “You know me. Trouble. Only this time...” Tears filled her eyes. She looked away.

“Let me help you.”

“You don’t know how much you already have,” she said before she kissed him hard, then stepped out of his arms. “I found out who’s been following me,” she said, her back to him. “It wasn’t Ralph. It was his wife, Norma. She thinks I’ve been having an affair with her husband.”

He grasped her arm and pulled her around to look at him, knowing that couldn’t be all that had happened since he’d last seen her.

“When I got back from talking to Norma, my driver’s side door was open,” Bailey said, and swallowed. “Heleft me something in the passenger seat.”

“Tell me you didn’t touch it,” he said, instantly in sheriff mode. He looked out at her SUV. “Is it still there?”

She nodded. “It’s unlocked.”

Stuart grabbed gloves out of his patrol SUV and approached her vehicle. Even with the light fading, he could see a bundle on the passenger seat. He carefully opened the side door to find what appeared to be something wrapped in a towel stained with dried blood. Willow’s?

His stomach roiled as he carefully unwrapped the fabric, sick at the thought of what he’d find inside the towel. To his relief, it was only a small horseshoe, not even four inches, the kind used on ponies.

---