Chapter Three
Audra worked herself to the bone again. After talking with Norman that morning and having to practically threaten him to give her the truth, he explained the damages he’d found.
He’d even taken a picture of it and assured her that sometimes when the wire got a little lax, and the posts got a little old, a cow could do that kind of damage.
Audra smiled and agreed with him.
Even though she’d felt terrified. Because the picture was blurry, sure, but the way the post was out of the ground didn’t seem like a cow doing damage. Certainly not something she’d seen before in almost thirty years of being alive on this ranch.
It seemed like something a human would do. And she thought Norman would have agreed with her if she shared any of the things she’d been dealing with lately, but she didn’t share. She kept it to herself.
She wanted to believe in coincidences, but they were adding up too quickly to manage.
And she didn’t have time to do anything but let that worry and stress settle in the back of her mind as she went through her day.
She skipped lunch again, but she’d eaten a big breakfast so she told herself it was okay.
When she trudged back to the house, frozen through and so far past hungry she felt a little nauseous, she noted there was a car in her drive.
This time, the visitor wasn’t Natalie—so no food, more’s the pity.
Though she did still have some of what she’d brought over last night that she could warm up for dinner.
Plus, she’d pulled one of her homemade loaves of bread out of the freezer this morning, so it should be thawed enough to make sandwiches.
And there was some cookie dough in the freezer she could bake.
Once she was close enough to make out the fact it was a Bent County Sheriff’s Department cruiser with a man standing in front of it, she slowed to a stop.
Not just any man. Copeland stood there, leaning against his police car, the wind whipping through his jet-black hair.
His gaze was on the mountains in the distance, where the setting sun made them look like golden sentries.
The side of his face that she could see was hidden in shadow, but there was no denying the profile was impressive.
Handsome. All sharp edges and strong lines.
He looked like a movie star. Playing an honorable but gruff police officer in the shadows of a beautiful landscape. If Franny had been here, she’d build a whole story about him. Tragic backstory for the gruffness. A shield to protect a hurting heart.
For a moment, just a fraction of a moment, really, she wondered if that was true. If all Copeland’s sharp, abrasive edges were simply hiding a hurting heart. If that was why he’d left Denver and plopped himself down in the middle of nowhere, where he hadn’t known a soul.
Ridiculous, of course, but the idea of the story of it, the romance of it, cheered her up some anyway, so she started walking again.
“I’ve been waiting,” Copeland called out once he noticed her.
And right there, any romantic inklings were deflated in an instant. Thank you, Copeland, for your terrible attitude, clearly shielding nothing but typical male baloney.
“You could have called me,” she replied once she got close enough not to have to shout. “I left my cell number.”
He shrugged. “I was already out and about.” He turned, regarding her with those dark, direct eyes. “Figured you’d be done mucking out stalls or whatever you do by dark.”
Out and about. Was he going to tell her she was worrying over nothing? Had he figured it all out so quickly that she would now feel like a total idiot? She braced herself for any and all conclusions, except…
“I’m still having trouble getting in contact with anyone at the cemetery. Through the number you gave me or anything online. But I did come across a reason they might have been trying to contact you.”
He held out his phone. She had to scoot closer to him and lean forward to see the screen. Her heart did an uncomfortable jerk in her chest. There on a gravestone was her name. And…
“That’s my birthday,” she managed to say, though she knew her voice sounded affected. Because she was affected. Especially by having a death year, like some kind of threat.
“I figured,” he said. He slid the phone back into his pocket, surveyed her again, but they were closer now. She could smell the faint hint of leather from his coat. “Older than you look.”
She fixed him with a glare. She supposed it was a compliment, but somehow his delivery made it seem anything but. “I guess I look pretty good for a corpse too.”
His mouth almost quirked into a smile, and something very unwelcome fluttered inside her in response to that handsome face showing some humor. Or in response, maybe, to just how close they were standing.
She took a step away. “There’s something else. Maybe. When I got home last night, Mrs. Kirk told me that there’d been some damage to a fence.”
Copeland had helped with the issues at the Kirk Ranch last year, so he knew who all the players were, and how their properties butted up to each other.
“Norman went ahead and fixed it up, because some of my cattle had gotten over onto his side. But… I don’t know. It feels off. Not the normal fence wear and tear.”
“I want to take a look.”
“I’ve got a picture.”
He shook his head. “Sure, I’ll look at that, but I want to see it too.” He gestured out at the ranch. “Show me.”
She scowled at the order. Wanted to argue. God, she was cold and hungry. But he was taking this seriously, which was more than she’d hoped for. She needed to be cooperative. Not grumpy just because she’d had a long day.
But something about the idea of showing him the fence had her hesitating. Had her resenting his entire place in this. Left her with the very uncharacteristic need to needle him.
“You know how to ride?” she asked, smiling sweetly at him. “A horse, that is.” She doubted it very much.
She watched his expression flicker ever so minutely, and only because she’d been looking for it. Irritation. But he didn’t make any excuses.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Then let’s saddle up.”
COPELAND DID KNOW how to ride, no matter how dubious she looked about it.
Knowing how to do something and liking it were two different things though.
Hart had insisted he learn back when he’d first started filling in during Laurel’s maternity leave. Insisted that being a detective in a ranching community meant knowing how to get around in all different ways.
Copeland wasn’t one for having someone insist that he do something, but he trusted Hart.
Hart might be a native, but he hadn’t grown up on a ranch, so Copeland didn’t think he was biased by any cowboy nonsense.
It was a necessary tool he’d need out here in the wannabe Wild West. And Copeland had been bound and determined to make this job work. To make his way up to detective again.
To leave Denver and that life behind.
So he’d learned. Hated every minute of giving up all his control to an animal, but he’d learned. He much preferred the snowmobile Hart had taught him to drive this winter.
Audra led him to a building that was obviously the stables.
Everything was clean, but it all kind of…
sagged. Like the years had worn on it no matter how well kept the whole place was.
Everything about the Young Ranch felt that way, actually.
Especially if he compared it to the Kirk Ranch, which had a newer, more modern feel to it.
But he wasn’t a rancher. Didn’t know a damn thing about ranching. Maybe she liked things kind of old and dilapidated. Maybe it suited whatever kind of operation she ran.
Somehow, he doubted it.
She had two horses inside the building, and she went to each little stall and got the animals saddled. Copeland didn’t allow himself to watch her. He took in his surroundings instead.
Neat. Clean. But there were issues. A rotted gate here, a rusted lock there. “You handle all this on your own?”
She didn’t stop what she was doing, but he saw the way her shoulders stiffened. “Rosalie helps when she can. So does Franny.”
“So, yes, you handle all this on your own.”
She scowled at him, then led one horse out of its stall and handed him the reins. She said nothing. Then she led the other horse out and gestured for him to follow.
He gave his horse a dubious look. “You better cooperate,” he muttered, then pulled the horse out into the fading daylight behind Audra.
“You need any help getting up?” she asked, with that same fake sweet smile. For the first time in all their interactions, she actually reminded him of her annoyance of a sister.
He watched with some satisfaction as her face registered surprise with how easily he mounted the horse. He flashed a grin at her. “What did you expect?”
She made a scrunched-up face but didn’t say anything, just got on her own horse. No doubt her moves were a little more fluid. A kind of gracefulness that spoke to a life around horses and riding them. An innate ease with every move.
Maybe it was kind of hot. Maybe she was hot, and it was hard not to notice. Maybe he had a lot of issues. Well, no maybes there.
She urged the horse into a trot, and he did the same, following her lead as best he could. He couldn’t see himself, obviously, but he was sure the difference in ease and comfort would be clear to even the casual observer.
Her braid streamed behind her, the hat low on her head. The sun was almost completely hidden by the mountains in the distance now. Gold and pastel pinks and oranges streamed up from behind the craggy peaks.
Pretty. Breathtaking, really. He couldn’t deny there was something about all this space that he liked, but mostly his gaze kept going back to Audra.