Page 28 of Dangerous Secrets
“Your assessment isastute, as always.And good for Owen, Vance deserves it.Slimybastard,” she said with a huff.The memory of his hands on her madeher stomach roll.
“Slimy is a gooddescriptor.”Then Keeley added smugly, “I’ll also note that Walkeris still into you and definitely has your back, which makes mehappy because I think you two belong together.”
“Keeley.”Delaney closedher eyes.
“I know he hurt you, butcircumstances change.Peoplechange.AndI, for one, would like to see you give him anotherchance.”
“It would kill me if heleft me again.”
“Believe me, I know.Butwhat if he stayed?What if he wants a life with you?Think aboutit.”
Delaney made a noncommittalsound.
“Okay, friend, I knowyou’re busy so I’ll let you go.Oh, but before I do, Mom said totell you the woman from the agency is working out well.Dad likesher.Well, maybe ‘like’ is too strong, but at least he doesn’t hateher.Mom says she doesn’t know how they’d gotten by for so longwithout her.”
“Oh, that’s good news.I’ll talk to you later.Thanks for calling.”
Delaney took a minute to settleherself.She might wish things could be different between her andWalker, but the reality was, with the exception of James, the menin her life she’d truly loved hadn’t loved her enough to care abouther feelings.
She shook off the heavy mood, and hermind shifted to what she’d found on a dirt road that morning.She’dneed a shovel for sure, but also a steel rake.She put both in theback of the electric side-by-side, the utility vehicle she usedaround the farm.Her stomach turned at the thought of the job shehad to complete.
At first light, she’d let Callie outto do her business and make her morning rounds.Delaney’d beenfilling her coffee mug when she’d heard the old dog barking, andnot the usual “I smell a racoon and think I should bark” kind ofbark, but her alarmed “something’s wrong” bark.
A whistle hadn’t brought her home, soDelaney had followed the barking, trudging up the dirt road to theeast orchard where apple trees grew in rows over rolling hills.Shefound Callie near a wooden bridge spanning the small creek thattumbled into the larger Mill Creek.
The old dog had stopped barking whenDelaney arrived, trotting over to greet her and rub against herbefore returning to stand over a dark object on the road.The sunwasn’t up yet, but there’d been enough light to see that what laythere had once been alive.
Offering silent thanks Callie hadn’tdone what dogs generally did when they found something dead, namelyroll in it, Delaney’d put a hand to her stomach and peeredcarefully at the carcass.What had once been a calf was noweviscerated and torn into pieces.Most likely coyotes had gotten toit, maybe dragging it from Lone Pine Ranch.
She’d have to call Shane and let himknow.Flies buzzed, but the stench wasn’t too bad, which made herthink the calf hadn’t been there long.She’d crossed the bridgelate the afternoon before and it hadn’t been there.The calfmust’ve been killed sometime during the night.
Now, Callie was locked in the house,and Delaney needed to bury the poor thing.A vehicle rumbled pastand she glanced up, then did a double take.The back window ofWalker’s pickup looked like it’d been hit with a rock.Then she sawthe pockmark in the tailgate.She knew a bullet hole when she sawone.
In a rush of motion, she hopped in thedriver’s seat of the side-by-side and sped after him.
When she caught up, he was already athis cabin, bending over to lift boxes of nails from the bed of histruck.The little dog, Bud, stood with his front paws braced in theopen driver’s window with a happy grin on his face.
As it had at the funeral, Walker’sshort hair struck her with regret.Gone were the long locks thathad made him look like a sexy pirate.Now shorter, his thick brownhair still skimmed his collar.He’d combed it from the side and hisheavy bangs fell over his forehead.She was sure it wasn’t bydesign, but he’d managed to keep the cool rebel look withoutlooking hipster-ish, even with the beard.
Jumping out of the side-by-side, shestrode over to him.“What the hell’s this?”She gestured to histruck.The hole in the back window surrounded with fractured safetyglass made a knot tighten in her stomach.The passenger window andfront windscreen didn’t look much better, and she could seedaylight through the hole in the tailgate.
Walker ignored her, setting the nailson the porch and returning to the truck.
“Walker.”
He checked his movement, then hefted amanly-looking toolbox, biceps stretching the material of his blackt-shirt.He set it on the porch next to the nails and this timewhen he turned, she’d planted herself squarely in his path.“What’swith the holes in—”
The bloody groove on his right templehad her sucking in a sharp breath.Partially hidden by his hair,the injury looked raw and painful.
“You’re hurt.”
“Go away, Delaney.I’vegot shit to do.”
“You’rehurt.How’d you gethurt?I think you need stitches.”
“None of your business.Idon’t.Now go away.”
She didn’t go away.Instead she movedforward to lift the hair from his forehead.He stilled, not movingeven a fraction of an inch, his gaze guarded as she studied theinjury.
