“A big rush. I walked her to the door, pulled out of her driveway, and headed back toward Main Street. A couple minutes later, she roared past me, going at least seventy. She even ran the red light. I’m just glad she didn’t have an accident.”
He glanced at his watch, a nervous gesture, as if he’d become worried about saying too much. “I’d better be going. I’ve got someplace to be.”
“Sure.” Stella rose, slipped out of the booth, and moved to block his exit for a moment. “Feel free to come back anytime you need a cold Corona and a listening ear, honey. But let me leave you with one thought. If Will Tyler gets off, chances are, your lady will go running right back to him. If he ends up in prison, she’ll be alone—and lonesome.”
Turning away, she sashayed back toward the bar, giving him a view of her swaying rump. He might or might not be back, but never mind—he’d already made it worth her time.
As his car pulled away, Stella found her cell phone and scrolled to Clay’s number. If he was at home, he wouldn’t pick up; but right now, that didn’t matter. She waited for his voice mail, then spoke.
“I’ve found another witness for you. His name is Drew Middleton. Call him.”
* * *
Curled on her couch, with her glasses on her nose and her laptop on her knees, Tori reviewed her opening statement for tomorrow’s trial. How many times had she read through her notes—moving a paragraph here, striking a sentence there, arranging and rearranging her ideas? Having it perfect had become an obsession.
The lamp behind her cast an island of light in the house that was otherwise dark. By now, it was after eleven. What she needed was to put the files aside, get some sleep, and look at them with fresh eyes in the morning. But even then, she could miss something vital, something that might make a difference for Will.
For the past few days she’d spent most of her time at the ranch, but today, needing quiet time to prepare, she’d fled to her house in town. Erin had stayed with Will, who’d made it clear that he wanted an ordinary workday with no fuss and no emotion.
Tori wouldn’t be seeing either of them again until tomorrow’s trial. Beau would be driving Erin and Will into town, leaving Natalie to rest at home. Sky had wanted to support Will at the trial, too, but somebody needed to oversee the ranch work, so he’d offered to stay. Lauren, already in town, would be there and had promised to text him updates as they happened.
Erin was to be a key witness. Tori had hoped to spare her by using the interview she’d taped with Abner, but Clay had insisted on calling her for the prosecution.
Tori lifted away her glasses, cleaned them on the hem of her sweatshirt, and put them on again. She was getting tired, but she had to be sure she was ready. She’d tried hundreds of cases over her career, but none that mattered the way this one did. Will’s freedom, Erin’s happiness, and the future of the Rimrock were all depending on her performance tomorrow.
Heaven help her, what if she failed?
* * *
Will stood alone on the front porch, gazing out across the yard. The house was dark, behind him, and Erin and Bernice long since asleep. Moon shadows, cast by wind-driven clouds, flowed like phantom water across the bare ground. The windmill creaked in the darkness. Coyote calls echoed down from the foothills.
The cold breeze burned his cheeks. If the jury found him guilty, he could be going away for years. Would this be his last night on the ranch before prison gates closed behind him? Would tomorrow morning be the last time he awoke to dawn chores and Bernice’s coffee—the last time he forked hay for the horses and cattle, broke the ice on the water troughs, and watched the sky fade from onyx to silver above the eastern plain?
> Will’s cold hands gripped the porch rail as he pulled himself back to reality. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about the things he’d miss if he went to prison. The jury would find him innocent—he had to keep believing that. After all, hadn’t he done what any good father would do—acted in defense of his child?
Tori would give her all to save him. He could count on that. He could count on her. She might not be his wife anymore, but she’d always been there for him and for Erin.
Hadn’t she?
A picture rose from his memory—Tori sitting in the booth, holding hands with Drew Middleton. For all he knew, she could be with the man right now, and not just holding hands.
Damn! Will cursed himself. This was no time for jealousy. He had to trust Tori, had to believe she wouldn’t let him down. She might be independent to a fault, but she was honest and true to the marrow of her bones and she always gave her best.
The night of the ice storm, their need for each other had broken down the barriers between them. Tonight he needed her again—with a soul-deep ache that had become physical pain. For most of his life, he’d tried to be like his father—tough, closed-off, priding himself on always standing alone. But he wasn’t Bull Tyler. He needed the only woman he’d ever loved—needed to see her, touch her, hold her, just one more time.
He could call her. But no, it was late. By now, Tori would be asleep—and if she wasn’t alone, he didn’t want to know. He would see her tomorrow, in court, at a polite distance, when he put his life into her hands.
Will was about to go back inside when his cell phone rang. His pulse leapt.
“Did I wake you?” Tori’s voice washed through him like a soft spring rain.
“Not even close. Something tells me I won’t get much sleep tonight. What’s up?”
There was a beat of silence before she answered. “Nothing much. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“No need to worry,” Will said. “I’m fine.”
“Are you? Are you really?” she asked.