Page 28 of River Wild

He groaned, seeing what she was up to. “Bailey—”

“Be careful. You know what will happen if you and I get too close,” she said, moving closer.

“I know what you’re doing, but what do you think will happen if you and I get too close?” His gaze said that he knew exactly what would happen, that he’d been waiting for her to come to him, but it would mean surrendering all of her, including her secrets and her scarred body.

As much as her fingers itched to cup his strong, bristled jaw, to draw him to her, to kiss him, she didn’t dare touch him right now because she knew he would reject her advances. He would see through her need to be pushed away rather than confide in him.

“I guess you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” Stuart said, turning his back on her.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with Willow’s death or my assault,” she said, fighting the urge to reach for him. She yearned to be in his strong arms. She yearned to bare her soul to him. No more secrets. No more regrets. But all she could do was let him walk away. Once she told him the rest, she was sure he would walk away for good.

STUARTQUESTIONEDWHAThe was doing. He knew how stubborn and independent Bailey was. Just as he knew that she was keeping something from him. She said it had nothing to do with her assault or Willow’s murder? Something more personal?

Whatever it was, he told himself to let it go. Only hours earlier, he’d been ready to hang up his gun and star. Bailey had changed all of that. Now he had to find a rapist killer who, according to her, was one of them.

He turned back to her as he reached for his Stetson. “I’m going to need to see that guest list,” he said, back in sheriff mode. He saw Bailey seem to relax as if she’d been worried that he might change his mind and resign rather than try to find the man who’d assaulted her. Didn’t she know him better than that?

That was just it, he thought. Maybe she didn’t know him any better than he did her. Through the window, he could see that the sun had crested the mountains and now painted the river bottom golden. He loved this time of year when the leaves on the cottonwoods began to turn, when summer heat waned and, with luck, winter was still a few months off.

He told himself that he’d find this man before the first snow and hoped he was right.

“Stuart—”

He cut her off. “My only concern right now is arresting the guy who assaulted you and killed Willow. How did you narrow it down to these four?”

Bailey looked as if she wanted to say more, but reached instead to open the large satchel-like bag she carried around as if it was full of gold. To her, it probably felt like that. This had been her life for so many of those years after the attack—trying to find the man who’d attacked her.

She pulled out her computer and then a notebook filled with papers. He could see her neat handwriting in the notes she’d made to herself. It only took her a moment to find a copy of the guest list.

As she handed it to him, he saw that most of the names had a line through them. All the ones she’d located who’d been at the barbecue that day and crossed off? He saw that it left only a half dozen. He looked up at her. She’d done most of his work for him. “These that are marked out—”

“Weren’t him,” she said. “But I didn’t mark the name off until I’d checked to see if he had a son or nephew or someone visiting who could have been him.”

He saw now why it had taken her years. She’d been thorough. “Why couldn’t you scratch these last six off the guest list?”

She took the paper from him. “This one is dead. Died twelve years ago in a ranching accident. I’ve seen photos of him. I left him on the list because he could have been the man. But after Willow... It’s not him.” Pulling out a pen, she scratched off the name. “There’s one more. He was injured in a car accident last year and is unable to walk.” Bailey looked up at him. “He was a possibility, but not anymore.”

He knew who she was referring to and nodded. “So that leaves four ranchers. What about the catering people?”

“I’ve vetted them all. It wasn’t one of them. They were all women and were busy the whole time they were on the ranch.”

“No one brought a brother or a boyfriend?” he asked.

“No. The man who attacked me had been on the ranch before. He knew about the old abandoned cabin. He knew me.”

Stuart stared at her, knowing it was true. This wasn’t random in any way. The man hadn’t just planned the assault. He’d been after only one young woman—Bailey. It’s why when Willow changed her long, curly hair from blond to almost black, the man had gone after her. She’d looked too much like the young Bailey who’d gotten away.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Stuart said. He knew criminals often followed a pattern. They normally didn’t go twelve years before striking again, especially if Bailey was right—it was only her he wanted—and killing Willow had been a message. “You came back five years after college. You said you knew he’d attack you again. I understand why you returned, but why did he wait?”

“Maybe I’m wrong and it isn’t about me,” she said. “I’m almost thirty. Willow was at least ten years younger, right? She looked like me when I was her age. Maybe he has a type. Maybe I wasn’t even his first.”

He met her gaze. “We’re going to get him. We have you. You’re an eyewitness.”

She shook her head. “He knows I didn’t see his face and can’t identify him or he’d already be in jail. He knows I won’t see him coming until it’s too late.”

That was Stuart’s fear also. He looked at the list again. He didn’t want to believe that Bailey was in imminent danger, yet his instincts told him that she was right. She was. This was about her and only her. This had been personal. The man had taken a huge chance doing what he’d done on the day of her father’s big barbecue.

Had this started because it had always been about her father? Had this been a way to get back at Holden McKenna? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had used one of Holden’s family members to try to hurt him. But then, why Willow? No, the message had been sent to Bailey—not her father. This was about her.

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