Page 23 of The Bull Rider & the Wedding Planner

She drove straight to the sheriff’s office. Could Sheriff Clint Coleville keep her and Presley safe from her monster of an ex-husband? Could anyone?

Easton’s face flashed in her mind’s eye as the dispatcher picked up.

No. Easton took nothing seriously. He might be strong and a wildland firefighter, but he couldn’t protect her and Presley. They weren’t safe in Coleville. They weren’t safe anywhere.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to report to the dispatcher what she’d found and told her she was driving to the sheriff’s office as they spoke.

Please, Heavenly Father, not for me but for Presley. Please find us a safe haven.

Chapter

Nine

Easton was feeding the bulls,wishing he could climb on one of their backs and push all the emotional pain away with an intense physical challenge. He was trying and failing as usual not to think about Cassie. His phone buzzed on his hip. He pulled it out and glanced at a text from Clint.

Get to the Sheriff’s office now. We have a situation.

Abrupt but exciting and totally Clint. His brother wasn’t flowery or effusive for anyone but Lily.

Easton didn’t mind. It would get his brain off of longing for Cassie and Presley, and being frustrated with Cassie as well. He’d been darkly introspective and adrift without purpose again. He’d even called and begged the doctor to clear him. The guy refused to budge, and the NFR wouldn’t let him in without that doctor’s approval. Not with his accident and subsequent coma being reported.

He called one of the ranch hands, Chad, and asked him to finish feeding the bulls as the sheriff had demanded hispresence. He smiled to himself. Somebody needed him. That was good. Cassie certainly didn’t need or want him, and it hurt. It gouged deep.

Hurrying to his own cabin, he washed up quick, grabbed his keys, and jumped in his Ram. He drove ten miles over the speed limit into town. It sounded like the sheriff and his men were all at the office or dealing with this situation. Nobody would give him a ticket.

As he pulled up to the small sheriff’s office, he was surprised to see Cassie’s Jetta parked right up front. His heart leapt, and against his better judgment, he couldn’t wait to see her. Then worry slammed into him. Was Cassie in trouble, in danger, part of this situation Clint needed him for?

Please let Cassie and Presley be safe, he pleaded in his mind.

Jumping out of his truck, he jammed his hat on and raced up to the sheriff’s office door. He flung it wide and stormed inside. Clint’s deputies Mark Garrett and Carlsen Smith were in the front area. Clint’s office door was closed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Easton demanded.

“Good to see you too, Mr. Woman Magnet,” Mark teased him. Mark teased with everybody, and usually Easton enjoyed the guy, but right now he needed answers.

“Cassie and Presley?” he demanded.

“In with the sheriff.” Carlsen’s dark eyes were serious. “We just got back from collecting evidence.” The large and solemn man shuddered. Shuddered! “It’s bad, Easton.”

“But they’re all right?” Easton had no idea what was bad, what was going on, but he needed to know they were all right.

“They’re fine, Romeo,” Mark said. “Cassie’s mama is not. Somebody murdered her.”

“What?” Easton exploded. Their smalltown was safe, with the exception of the cases that were brought into his family’s ranch. Somebody murdering Cassie’s mom made no sense. He stormed toward the office.

“Yes, go on in,” Mark said to his back. “Don’t wait on the sheriff for permission.”

“He’ll forgive me,” Easton flung at him as he threw the door open wide.

He stopped in his tracks. Clint sat behind his desk, staring at him, but it was the two beautiful females gazing at him that stole his breath.

Cassie’s face was tear-stained and pale. She clung to Presley who also looked as if she’d been crying. Both of them looked to him as if he could rescue and protect them. He could, and he would.

“Easton!” Presley cried out, pushing out of her mother’s arms and running across the small space to him.

Easton scooped her up and cradled her close. “Are you all right, my princess?”

“No,” she cried, cuddling into his shoulder like the spot was made for her. Easton thought it had been. He hadn’t spent much time around small children, but this child was the most perfect in creation in his opinion.

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