Page 11 of River Wild

He wanted the kiss, had dreamed of kissing this woman, just the touch of her lips, the scent of her... Laying his gun aside, he grasped her shoulders and pushed her back to hold her at arm’s length. Shaking his head, he said, “You ever want to do that again, you let me know. But it’s not what you want from me, not tonight.”

Her smile was sad as she shook off his hold, turned and opened the door to leave.

“If you know something about Willow’s murder, you have to tell me, Bailey,” he said to her retreating back.

She stopped to look around at him. He’d never seen her appear more lost than at that moment. “Why would I tellyou? I saw your resignation on your desk. Are you even still sheriff?”

Before he could answer, she was gone. Not that he knew what he would have said. She’d caught him by surprise. But it was what he heard in her voice that stole any chance of sleep the rest of the night.

For years he’d disappointed himself, but to disappoint Bailey? He wasn’t sure he could live with that. Worse, he kept seeing her face when he told her how Willow had died. Just as he’d feared, she’d known.

HOLDENMCKENNASADDLEDhis horse earlier than usual and rode out across his ranch toward the Stafford Ranch. The sun hadn’t yet scaled the mountains to the east but had set the sky aglow in pale pinks. He’d ridden every morning since his doctor had said he could after his gunshot wounds had healed. Each day he told himself Charlotte Stafford would be at the creek where they used to meet to make love.

Those days were apparently long behind them, leaving him both brokenhearted and filled with a deep, aching sorrow. Charlotte had been the love of his life, still was. They’d both made mistakes, but his, he’d come to realize, were the worst. He’d pushed her away—and now she was gone.

He had no idea where she’d gone or if she would ever come back. Still, he rode to a stop along the creek in a place that held the happiest memories of his life. A slight breeze stirred the tall fall dried grasses and golden leaves on the cottonwoods as he dismounted and walked to the large rock where he and his Lottie, as he’d always called her, had last embraced.

Sitting down, he stared into the water that in a matter of yards would join the Powder River. He listened to the breeze for a moment, then whispered, “Come back, Lottie. Please, come back to me.” After a few minutes, he rose and walked back to where he’d ground-tied his horse. He told himself that she was still alive, wherever she was. If she’d died, he would know it in his heart.

For years after he’d betrayed Lottie, she’d been unable to forgive him. They’d become mortal enemies, dragging their children as well as their hired hands into the feud. It broke his heart, all the years they’d wasted. Before she’d left, it seemed they might reconcile their differences. They might find their way back to each other. But he’d pushed her away when he’d learned of the secret she’d been keeping from him for years.

He deeply regretted that soon after, but it had been too late. She’d left town, and no one seemed to know how to reach her. The pain of it had almost laid him out for good.

“I’ve heard of people dying of a broken heart,” Elaine had said recently. More than a housekeeper and head cook, she was his confidant as well as his friend. She knew him better than anyone. He loved her in his way. Elaine was dating his ranch manager, Deacon Yates. Deacon was a good man, and Elaine deserved to have a man in her life—other than him.

Elaine had sighed. “I’m worried about you, Holden. Charlotte will come back. She loves you.”

He’d smiled, grateful that she cared and hoping she was right.

“It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Elaine had said.

“I’m fine,” he’d promised. “I don’t mean to make you worry. It’s just that my kids are all grown, living their own lives. I’m at loose ends.”

She gave him a look that told him she knew better. It had always been about Lottie. No wonder his adult children didn’t need him. He’d spent his life obsessing over a woman he’d lost and feared he would never have again.

“She’ll come back,” Elaine had said. “Stop looking as if you have one foot in the grave. It’s morbid.”

He’d chuckled. “That bad?” She’d nodded, and he’d seen the worry in her expression. He definitely thought he could die of a broken heart if Lottie didn’t come back.

Mounting his horse now, he rode back home, promising his aching heart that one of these mornings, he would find Lottie there, and nothing could keep them apart ever again.

In the meantime, as the daylight peeked through the cottonwoods, he worried about Bailey. It was high time he found out what was going on with his daughter—whether she liked it or not.

THESHERIFFGLANCEDat the clock. Too late to go back to bed. After Bailey’s visit, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. He felt as lost as she had looked. Startled by the sudden pounding at his door, he hurried to it, thinking that Bailey had returned. He was already rehearsing what he’d say to her when he opened the door to find Holden McKenna standing there, face flushed.

Panic filled him. Had something happened to her? “Bailey—”

He’d barely gotten the word out when Holden pushed past him, storming into the living room before swinging around to face him. Holden was a big man who was in good shape for his age, but it was the air of authority the wealthy rancher wore that made most men give him a wide berth.

“What the hell is going on?” Holden demanded.

“What—” He stared at him, confused and terrified that Bailey had been hurt again.

“What are you doing with my daughter?”

Stuart blinked. “I...” He was going to say that he didn’t understand but realized with a wave of relief that Bailey was okay. This was something else. “If you’re asking where she is—”

“I don’t need to. I just saw her leave your house before it was hardly daylight,” the rancher said. “How long has this been going on?”

---