Page 70 of Deadly Evidence
Anna’s expression softened. “I know you’re new out here, and I do know Lacey. She’s quite a free spirit and often pays theconsequences. But please—don’t wander far. You two need to stay within sight of the ranch buildings at all times. I just don’t want anything to happen, okay?”
Chastened but also mystified, Mia nodded. This was new. Anna was skirting an issue that obviously had her worried. And from the brief glance Anna and Brady had shared a moment ago, it was somethingbig.
Excusing herself, Mia wandered to her room, feeling melancholy. Another week, and she’d be on that bus heading for New York, something that should fill her with anticipation.
The new apartment she and her friends planned to share would be available on the first of May, the summer session of school would start in mid-June. Her life would go on as it had before...and this ranch would be just a memory.
Dominga was sweet, and Mia had gone into town to see her several times, but Vicente was still surly and would clearly be glad to see her leave. That part of this whole trip still filled her with sadness.
She had exactly one elderly relative left in the world who even cared if she lived or died, and Dominga lived over two-thousand miles away. How pathetic was that?
Opening her closet door, she dragged her big suitcase out into the center of the room.
Even before Mom died, music had been her escape. Her solace. One consistent thing in a life of moving from one town to the next.
Reaching inside the luggage, she withdrew her violin case and ran a loving hand over the smooth black surface, then grabbed the handle and headed down the hall.
Somewhere outside—maybe beyond the machine shed, in that little grove of trees, she could pour her heart into her music and let the world just fall away.
Dante watched Mia leave the room, then he turned to glare at Anna. “That was rude,” he said. “She didn’t mean anything—and it was Lacey’s fault.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have been so blunt.” Anna glanced at Brady, then cleared her throat. “But think about it. What if those thieves came back for another load and found a couple of young girls on their own?”
The image was all too graphic.
Dante felt a warm flush rise up his neck. Anna was right, and he’d jumped to Mia’s defense way too fast. The thought of any other guy touching her—hurtingher—made his blood pound and his fists clench.
The one at the bus stop, for instance.
Ducking his head in embarrassment, he grabbed his hat from the hook by the back door. “I—I gotta go check the horses,” he mumbled.
“Thanks, Dante,” Anna’s voice followed him out the door.
She wasn’t angry. He heard the friendly tone in her voice. But he was angry at himself for stepping in where he had no business. For being wrong. And even for caring too much about how Mia felt.
Sure, she’d been friendlier lately, but she’d never once flirted with him, and she endlessly talked about going back to New York.
Despite it all, he’d come to like her a whole lot—but she was leaving and he sure didn’t belong in that world of hers.
He tromped over to the barn, but as he stepped inside he heard a sound so foreign, so pure and beautiful that he stopped in his tracks and just closed his eyes to listen.
Then he stepped back outside and followed the sound to the far side of the machine shed.
Mia stood under the trees a dozen yards away, a fiddle tucked under her chin and her eyes closed, playing what had to be the most beautiful song he’d ever heard.
It was so sad, so sweet that it made his heart wrench just to hear her play it. It sounded as if she was laying her soul open—all of her sorrows—to be lifted on each soaring note.
He swallowed hard. Humbled by her talent, he stared at her and realized just how foolish he’d been to think that she could ever like a guy like him. Even a little.
Turning to go, he stumbled over a low, wiry sagebrush and sent pebbles skittering like marbles across the ground.
“Dante.”
He would have kept going, but she called his name again and sounded so forlorn that he couldn’t ignore her.
He pivoted and walked down to the grove of trees, where she was already putting her violin into its velvet-lined case, her silky black hair flowing over her hands like a waterfall.
“That was so cool,” he said. “How come you never played before now?”
