Chapter 43
It had only been a day since Colette had left, but things were already going downhill. The police had come to question the ranch hands again, slowing their work progress considerably.
The men were talking. Everyone was nervous.
Marshall’s head nearly hit the ceiling when someone dropped a bucket of oats in the stable.
He should have been feeling relieved, knowing that Colette was safe.
If it wasn’t obnoxious, he could reach a hand around and pat himself on the back for being a hero.
But watching her drive away had dulled something in his chest. Going back to the life he had before she arrived at Rosebud Ranch should be simple: Stepping back into a familiar, comforting routine.
He had yet to feel comfortable.
Or happy, for that matter.
“Okay, I’m here, put me to work,” a voice behind him said.
Evan strode purposefully toward him, a serious expression on his face.
Marshall was startled out of his moping.
Yes, he was mooning over Colette.
Pathetic.
How had he gotten used to her presence so quickly? It was ridiculous.
“I’ve got Chip supervising a few guys with the feeding, so we’re covered there,” Marshall considered for a moment.
“Why don’t you help me move the cattle from the eastern slope?
I’ve got about fifty head out there that should’ve been moved days ago.
We can grab some men who have already spoken to police.
” He was relieved at the prospect of a ride, something to do that would keep his mind clear and focused. Not mooning.
“Good idea,” Evan said with a nod. “Keep the cattle safe, you know, from whatever has been going on around here.”
“From the murderer?”
“It gives me chills. Don’t remind me,” Evan said, his body shivering. “I don’t know how you stay here.”
“It’s my home?” Marshall said, his mouth quirking up to the side. “I can’t just leave.”
“That’s too bad,” Evan said, considering with a hum.
“Why don’t you stay at our place for a while?
I can guarantee there have been zero murders there in ages.
Never, if you don’t believe the legend of Two-Gun Mack.
” They walked toward the stalls, Marshall slowly passing the empty stall where Vinny had once been housed.
He hadn’t been able to go back in there since Jack had been found there. The energy was unsettling.
“Didn’t they disprove the possibility of that being true?”
“Yeah, but a guy’s allowed to dream, right?”
Shrugging, Marshall pointed to a camera in the corner of the stables. “Grandpa got some fancy new discreet cameras installed. They’ll alert us if anything strange is happening,” he explained. “I get notifications on my phone.”
“A camera isn’t going to save you if someone wants to hurt you,” Evan said, pulling Marshall to look at him. “You’re all alone in the house. The ranch hands are too far away. I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but it’s what I’m choosing to do right now. I can’t abandon the ranch,” Marshall said, his mouth set in a grim line, then pulled away to find his horse. “I’ve been careful. Locking everything up tight.”
As though sensing his nervousness, Vinny kicked the gate as he approached, eager for a ride.
Perhaps his horse sensed the same haunting energy that trailed Marshall as he attempted to go about his daily routines.
He wouldn’t be satisfied until they figured out what happened to Jack. His friend deserved justice.
With a shake of his head, he gazed at Evan, taking in the sincere worry etched in his brows.
“I know Jack was murdered, and maybe I still don’t believe it, or maybe I’m in denial, but I’m not afraid,” Marshall said, pulling off his hat and running a hand through his sweaty hair. “I feel much better now that Colette is safe in the city.”
The morning air on his face was bracing and nipped his cheeks as he mounted his horse after bringing him near Evan’s, which was tied up outside.
“Have the police come up with anything yet?”
“Jack died of blunt force trauma; no murder weapon was found on the scene. Police searched high and low for anything suspicious the day Jack turned up dead, so they’re kind of at a loss,” Marshall explained, tugging on the lead.
He guided Vinny to go in front of Evan’s horse, since the horses didn’t like walking side by side.
“Have you consulted the town gossips? I bet you the old ladies know something…” Evan’s eyes narrowed as he gazed into Marshall’s.
All Marshall could do was laugh. Evan could be ridiculous sometimes.
“No way. They’re going to wonder where Colette went and get all up in my business. I’m not going down that road,” Marshall shouted behind him.
Nodding, Evan followed him as they headed to join the cowboys who were already leading the cattle along the familiar path.
Things seemed well under control here, but Marshall took the time to breathe the cool morning air and forget, just for a moment, that a murderer was roaming free in Rosebud.
As the sun rose over the hills, the sky turning a soft orangey pink, the soothing energy of the land hummed throughout his body.
There was work to do, and the police were on the case, so he had best get back to ranch business.
After a long, hot shower, Marshall padded downstairs in his clean T-shirt and dark gray sweatpants, checking on Pablo and Hank.
One saving grace of having his useless farm pets was their skills as an early warning system.
Hank rarely barked, but he did make some noises when random guests came to visit.
Marshall hoped the same would apply to anyone walking up to his house.
Hank wouldn’t do shit to defend him, but a warning would suffice.
He shook his head to clear the image of Hank getting his belly rubbed by a murderer.
It definitely could happen. The way the animal slept with his belly up and his legs in the air demonstrated his lack of instincts when it came to predators.
Hank would not survive in the wild, that much was clear.
Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he poured himself a generous dose of whiskey. He inhaled the smoky scent of the drink, admiring the amber tones swishing in his tumbler. His eyes were drawn to the guest house, visible through the kitchen window.
The lights were off.
The house was empty.
Pablo leaped on the counter and rubbed against Marshall’s arm.
With a soft chuckle, Marshall reached out and patted the cat’s fur, satisfied with the purr that ensued.
At least there were some creatures he could love without putting their lives at risk.
With a heavy sigh, he watched the little white house, his thoughts wandering to being wrapped around Colette.
Their skin overheated and sweaty, their pleasure simple and…
perfect. Running a finger along the length of her arm and watching the goosebumps come to life.
Every part of her brought him back to life.
He was simply going through the motions when she arrived and clutched her hand around his heart, refusing to let go.
Now, it was hard to breathe without her.
He was restless, unsettled. His purpose had been straightforward before she came. Things seemed so clear.
Suddenly, his world had tilted on its axis. His future visions were altered. What right did he have to expect her to want to be part of those visions?
Colette didn’t owe him anything.
She had set out the limitations of their relationships before they even went out on their first date. Had he not been paying attention?
Some part of him clung to the possibility of forever, when a moment in time was all she had promised. Curse his foolish heart.
Tipping his glass to savor another soothing swallow of the amber liquid, he leaned his head in his hand and rubbed his forehead. What was he even thinking? His heart was full of feeling for this woman and then what? He would ask her to stay here with him?
Ridiculous.
Would he surrender management of the ranch over to Lachlan and move to the city to be with her?
Marshall shook his head. The idea was preposterous.
What would he even do as a job in the city?
He loved Rosebud Ranch with his entire being.
Well, almost his entire body. There was a part of him reserved for Colette now.
His heart throbbed with longing, and a sick feeling settled in his gut the moment she left.
He hadn’t even had time to present the special project he had begun for her.
Not that he had much to show yet, but his heart was invested in seeing her reaction.
He pictured her face, flush with pleasure as she took in what he had done.
Maybe that sparkle from her smile would reach all the way to her eyes, and he would know he did good.
All he wanted was to make her proud of him.
To impress her. And now, maybe she would work from the city and decide to never return.
Swirling his glass and indulging in a deep sigh, Marshall turned away from the window and rubbed his brow. There was no use dwelling on what might have been. He had to focus on what the hell was going on at the ranch. People’s lives were at stake.
Someone had killed Jack. The motive was a mystery, since his friend had been one of the greatest people Marshall had ever known.
Kind, caring, and always eager to lend a helping hand.
Who could Jack have pissed off enough to warrant being murdered?
So far, all his ranch hands were accounted for, and Marshall was innocent.