Page 8 of On His Ranch

“You think it’s…” He let his sentence trail off meaningfully.

“Could be,” he said again.

Senior mulled this over a bit before giving two definitive shakes of his head and spitting on the ground. “Nah. Not a young thing like that.”

“Who knows? Maybe they think they can catch us off guard. Maybe that’s the plan.”

“It’s not just that she’s young. There’s somethin’ about her…”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Doesn’t seem like the hardened criminal type, you know?”

“Do they ever?” His words came out hard, bitter. But he did indeed know what his grandfather meant. There was something about the pretty blonde that screamed of innocence, but he didn’t want to let that cloud his judgment. Maybe the people who sent her expected he would let his guard down, and that possibility made it impossible for him to do so. “I best get back. I need to make sure we’re not missin’ anything.”

“Well, you might wanna hurry. She looked to be on her way out when I saw her.”

Chase’s brow furrowed as he scowled. “I told her to stay put.”

His grandfather shrugged. “Jus’ what it looked like to me.”

“In that case, I better be goin’.” But something held him back another moment. “I know you don’t like hunches…”

“Go on.”

Chase considered his next words carefully before saying, “I can’t swear by it, ‘course, but I think that we haven’t seen the last of those guys, whoever they were. I feel it in my gut.”

His grandfather didn’t answer, but merely followed his gaze out toward the trees.

Chapter 3

Piper had hardly taken three steps into the driveway and was trying to reorient herself when she heard a voice behind her.

“Goin’ somewhere?”

She screeched and jumped what felt like six feet into the air before whirling around. Of course. The cowboy had found her. She supposed she should be grateful it was him and not whoever had shot at them earlier, but seeing his handsome face become an angry mask made her wonder if she might have better odds with the gunman.

“I asked you a question,” he said, every syllable laced with impatience and a southern twang.

“I… I was just… my aunt’s that way.” She pointed, feeling ridiculous even as she did it.

“Uh-huh. That’s nice to know, but I seem to recall tellin’ you to stay put.”

“Well, ah, you did, but…” She reached up and brushed a hand over her blonde hair, trying to think of something to say that would stop him from looking like a bear who was about to make her his lunch.

“But?” he prompted, his brows drawing together as he folded his arms across his big, manly chest, his foot tapping ominously on the ground.

“I just thought… I mean, you seemed busy, so I… just wanted to get out of your hair.” She smiled weakly.

“Out of trouble is more like it.”

Well, she couldn’t deny that one, although it seemed that instead of getting out of it she’d only managed to dig herself in deeper.

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m not far from my aunt’s, so I’m just going to—”

“Not yet you’re not, young lady. You’re not going anywhere until you talk to the police.”

She could feel her tummy knotting itself in worry. “Because I was shot at? Listen, it was scary, sure, but you handled it. Um… I guess I should say thank you. So, thank you. But I’m fine. It’s really not necessary to call the police.”

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