Page 37 of River Wild

AJ met his gaze with a steely one of his own. “You’re wrong. It broke my heart. I cared about Willow. I wished like hell that I’d met her when I was closer to her age and not...married.”

“Did you know she was coming off of a heartbreak when she moved to Powder Crossing?” He nodded. “She talk about him?” A head shake. “But you knew she was vulnerable.”

A muscle jumped in AJ’s jaw. “Think of me what you will. Why would I kill her? I was in love with her.” With that he threw some money on the bar, slid off his stool and, picking up his Stetson, walked out.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ITWASLATEby the time Stuart drove home. When he saw Bailey’s SUV parked behind his house in the trees, he felt both relief and concern. She’d said she was staying the night in Billings. Had something happened to change her mind?

She’d been in his thoughts all day. Her attacker was still out there. His worry and exhaustion made him feel as if he would never be able to protect her from the man at this rate. His only hope was that whoever the man was, he wouldn’t strike yet. Stuart needed the time to find him first.

He reached his front door and started to open it, then stopped as he realized he was angry with her for not telling him why she went to Billings. But more than that, what she was keeping from him.

He wished she had stayed in Billings tonight. He wasn’t sure he was up to seeing her without getting into it. Hell, he wasn’t up to anything. He’d been looking forward to kicking off his boots, putting his feet up and having a beer or two before passing out on the couch in front of the television. Anything to make him quit thinking about her, worrying about her, wanting her.

The door he’d left locked was unlocked. He pushed it open, surprised by the smell of something cooking. He didn’t cook much for himself, making do with leftovers from the café or a fried egg sandwich. When he was this tired, he’d often skip food entirely.

As he stepped into his house, he also heard music. He rounded the corner to find Bailey standing at the stove moving with the soft, almost melancholy music playing on her cell phone. There was something so vulnerable about her, her defenses down, that he didn’t speak, couldn’t. Bailey had been a force to reckon with for so long. He realized he’d never seen this Bailey.

The sight of her made him go soft inside. He’d wanted her before, the prickly and hard-shelled woman, but this glimpse of her stole the rest of his heart. He no longer pretended he didn’t want her more than his next breath.

The song ended, and she turned slowly to look at him. “I cooked,” she whispered. “You’d better be hungry—” Unfortunately he’d lost his appetite. “Didn’t think I knew how, huh.” She seemed to see he was enchanted with this unguarded version of her. “Sit,” she ordered, and turned off the music and the food on the stove. That other version of her was gone as if he’d never seen it. He hung up his Stetson and, stepping to the table, dropped into a chair.

Turning back to him, she said, “You look like you had a hell of a day. I made spaghetti. You talk to them?”

“Not Jay Erickson and Richard Cline yet.”

“Dickie,” she said under her breath.

“I called earlier. His wife says he’s out of town—has been for the past three days,” he said.

“She could be lying.”

He began to kick off his boots. “I would never have thought of that.” Silence fell between them as she stood holding a large spoon, looking at him. The rich marinara sauce smelled delicious. But he felt too exhausted to eat.

“Not tonight,” she said, turning back to the stove. “Tonight, we talk about something else.”

He had started to say that he wasn’t up to talking period, but stopped himself. “I thought you were going to Billings?”

“Changed my mind. Took care of it with a phone call.” She put down the spoon. “Go in and sit on the couch. I’ll bring you a beer.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized as he rose stocking-footed from the kitchen chair. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Me neither.” She stood there as if not knowing what to say or do. “Go. I’ll bring the beer.”

He gave her a grateful smile and headed for the couch. A few minutes later, she joined him, handing him a cold one. He noticed she hadn’t gotten one for herself—just as he noticed there was more going on with her. He thought about their last conversation. Didn’t she realize that he knew her, knew when she was holding back something?

She raised her gaze to him, her look almost apologetic as if she knew he couldn’t take too much more today. “Something happened. An SUV followed me after I left town again.”

Her words felt like an anvil dropped on his chest.

“It was the same one that followed me the last time.”

“Ralph Jones’s? You’re sure.”

The last time she thought she’d overreacted when Stuart had told her that he’d run the plates and the vehicle was Ralph’s. She’d actually forgotten about it until she saw the SUV behind her again tonight. “Why would Ralph follow me?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll make a point of asking tomorrow,” the sheriff said. “I have to go out that way to talk to Jay Erickson anyway.” He could see her doubting herself as she rose and headed into the kitchen.

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