She huddled on the seat, painfully
aware of her muddy knees, her broken sandal, and the missing button on her dress. Whatever he must be thinking, it couldn’t be much worse than the truth.
He gave her a worried glance as he drove. “What are you doing out here, Erin? Lord, you could have died of heat stroke if I hadn’t come along. There’s water in a cooler behind the seat. Grab yourself a bottle. Then you can tell me what happened.”
Erin reached back and found a water bottle, twisted off the cap, and took a long drink. The cold liquid, spilling down her hot, dry throat, sent a shudder through her body.
“Better?” he asked.
“I think so.” She’d been aware of Hunter Cardwell for as long as she’d been dating Kyle. But they’d never really interacted until now. He was a handsome man, even better looking than his son. But she sensed an almost feral quality about him, an air of unpredictability that set her on edge, especially now.
She did not want to be here.
“So tell me what happened, Erin,” he said. “I thought you were with my son.”
“I was.” No, she couldn’t tell him the whole story. “We . . . uh, had a fight. I told him I could find a ride home. I was wrong.”
“That was foolish, Erin. Alone out here in the heat, anything could have happened to you. What did Kyle do to make you leave him like that?”
Squirming inwardly, Erin looked down at her hands. “Oh, just the usual thing, acting like he’s qualified to run my life. I won’t be treated like a child.”
“So why did you act like a child and run off? You’re a nineteen-year-old girl, Erin. You need somebody to look after you and manage your affairs now that your parents are gone. Kyle is very capable—he even has a degree in ranch management, and he’s been working with me for years. More important, he loves you. All he wants is to make you happy.”
Something clicked in Erin’s mind. The man sounded just like his son—same argument, even some of the same words. Was it a coincidence, or was something darker going on? Whatever it was, she wouldn’t let this man think she could be controlled.
Erin straightened in the seat. “Don’t underestimate me, Mr. Cardwell. I was raised to run the Rimrock. I don’t need a man or anyone else to look after my affairs. I’m quite able to look after them myself. And if I need advice, I have an excellent foreman whose wife handles the ranch books. One thing I don’t need right now is a husband.”
“But you’re a woman. You’ll have needs. And you’ll want a family.”
“There’s plenty of time for that. I won’t be pushed into anything before I’m ready. That’s what I told Kyle—and it’s what I’m telling you. If Kyle’s in such an all-fired rush to get married, I’m sure there are plenty of girls who’d be happy to accommodate him.”
But none with her own ranch.
Erin almost said the words, then stopped herself. She didn’t need to antagonize this man. She only needed to make him understand that she wouldn’t be pushed around.
They had turned onto the graveled lane and were coming up on the spot where her father had been shot. The yellow crime scene tape had been left to sag uselessly between the leaning stakes. Here and there, broken ends fluttered in the light breeze. Erin averted her face as they passed it, struggling against the picture in her mind—Will stopping, getting out of the truck . . . She forced away the rest of the image.
Most people would have driven around the tire in the road. Will had stopped and gotten out to move it aside. The killer had known what he would do. Whoever had murdered her father was no stranger—which likely ruled out a hit. Will’s murder had been very personal.
“I’m sorry about your father,” Cardwell said. “My wife and I will be going to the funeral, of course.”
“Thank you.”
“Does the sheriff have any idea who might have killed him? Any suspects?”
The knot of tension tightened in Erin’s stomach. “None that he can back up with evidence. Right now he’s busy looking for the person who shot Roy.”
“I hear that farrier’s back on the Rimrock.”
The knot pulled tighter. “Yes, he’s back at work.”
“He could be the one who killed your father. How can you trust him?”
“Because I don’t think he’s guilty.”
“If you believe that, you’re a naive young girl. This is exactly why you need someone to look out for you.”
Erin looked at the road. Through the haze of dust and distance, she could make out the barn and the windmill of the Rimrock. “You can let me out here,” she said. “I’ll be fine to walk the rest of the way.”