Page 4 of Montana Mystery

Generally, we didn’t take on cats at Resting Warrior. It wasn’t that cats couldn’t be trained, but the training was much more individualized and dependent on the long-term owner of the animal. But the rescue had been full of cats, and I couldn’t bear to let the pair go to the county shelter. They wouldn’t have lasted.

If I could end the practice of kill shelters, I would. But I was only one man. Instead, I now had a pair of adorable little monsters wrecking my house for the next couple of months. At least.

Snow crunched under my boots on the way to the stables. I focused on the sound to keep myself in the present. Things were jumping at the edges of my vision, and that was never a good sign.

Wait...

It wasn’t in my mind. There was someone on my periphery. Someone I didn’t recognize. A woman. Even from this distance it was clear she was stunning. Hair such a pale blond that it rivaled the color of the snow. She was moving with fervent energy, clearly searching for something.

Frankly, she looked a little like a hectic whirlwind in the way she was storming down the road.

Someone we didn’t know on the property was usually a cause for concern. But this wasn’t. Not because women couldn’t be dangerous, but because I felt nothing. Like the other men that lived and worked here, I’d learned over time to sense danger.

Those instincts had saved my life more than once. They were the reason that I was standing here at all. And this woman, whoever she was, wasn’t a danger. Not physically, at least. But why was she here?

I was nearly at the stables, so I moved quickly, hiding behind a corner of the building where I could observe her. It must have been her car door I’d heard slamming earlier.

The real question was, why hadn’t she gone straight into the main lodge? Most people new to the property stopped there automatically. Big building, the first thing you encountered. It often triggered that instinctual authority that made everyone assume it was where you went for answers. They weren’t wrong.

So either this woman wasn’t the typical person who came to Resting Warrior, or she was already familiar with us and was looking for something specific. I was betting on the latter.

As she explored, I moved with her, keeping myself hidden. Another reason I didn’t think she was a threat. If she had some kind of underhanded agenda, she ought to have more awareness of her surroundings and who could be watching.

She was still a fair ways away, walking past the resident cabins. Not knocking on any doors yet, but with the determination in her step, I wasn’t putting anything past her. Something about the way she was moving, kicking up snow behind her with the force of her steps, made me smile.

When she made her way toward the stables, it was time to stop hiding. As amusing as it was, she was farther into the ranch than someone should be before we knew their reason for being here. Resting Warrior was a sanctuary for both humans and animals, and that meant that we had to keep it sacred.

I stepped out from my hiding place and held up a hand in greeting. “Hi there. Can I help you?”

She froze, startled. For a second I thought she might bolt like a rabbit, but she caught herself and stilled. She pulled herself together and found her courage. The closer I got, the easier she was to read. Her beauty became that much clearer as well.

Her gaze took in all of me as she stood her ground. “You’re Noah Scott?”

“I am.” I wasn’t afraid to reveal my identity. All of ours were public. At least our faces were. Jude kept the majority of our details private. If someone went looking for me, a name and a face were all they got. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

“My name is Kate Tilbeck,” she said. There was rage in her face now. “You should know who I am now.”

Tilbeck. A couple of months back we’d had someone staying on the property named Tilbeck. “Brandon,” I said. “He’s your...”

“He’s my brother.” Her face was both livid and expectant. But right now, even instincts like mine couldn’t put together what it was she wanted.

When I didn’t immediately respond, she seemed even angrier. “Do you know what happened?”

I paused. “I’m sorry, Miss Tilbeck, but I haven’t seen your brother since he stayed here a couple of months ago. Did he say otherwise?”

Her face fell for a second before the anger and strength returned. “Call me Kate. And no, he’s not exactly capable of speaking right now.” She pulled out a worn scrap of paper. “I found this in his things.”

I recognized the piece of paper once she handed it to me. Brandon had written down my name and number—at my insistence—on the day that he’d left. He’d never used it. “Is he all right?”

Kate just glared. What did she think I should know? “No,” she said finally. “No, he’s not all right. He’s in the hospital, beaten all to hell. Unconscious because they have to let the swelling go down in his brain before he can even have a chance to wake up, and your number is the only thing that was in his clothes that points in any direction.”

My eyebrows rose up into my hair. That wasn’t what I’d expected. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“So you had nothing to do with it?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. The last time I saw Brandon was the morning he left the property. When I gave him my number.” I held up the piece of paper. “He only wrote my number down because I insisted. Honestly, I kind of expected him to throw it out the window as soon as he passed through the gate because he seemed less than interested.”

Kate covered her face with her hands. A shudder ran through her, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the fact that we were standing outside in late winter.

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