Chapter 2
The parking lot at the grocery store was only half-full when Jewel pulled her car into a space near the entrance.
Sylvie had insisted on going shopping with her, claiming she needed to “see what passed for civilization around here.” However, she suspected the real reason she wanted to come was to escape the tension still simmering back at Susan’s house.
All morning, Conrad and Cole had been circling each other like cautious dogs, speaking only when necessary, their words sharp and deliberate.
Susan had retreated to her needlepoint, not really focusing on what she was creating.
Meanwhile, the children had taken their plastic horses outside, thankfully unaware of the tensions in the house.
As soon as she mentioned needing to make a grocery run, Sylvie let out a loud sigh of relief. “Thank God! I’m coming with you. If I have to watch those two glare at each other over their coffee cups one more time, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Now, as they climbed out of the truck, Sylvie stretched her arms overhead, her flannel shirt pulling tight across her shoulders. “Okay, so what’s the game plan? Are we going in and out quickly, or are we doing the full browse?”
Jewel pulled out the list Susan had given her and looked at it. “Probably somewhere in between. We need some staples, plus extra ingredients for a few meals. Susan wants to cook something special for everyone before she goes in for surgery.”
“That makes sense. She’s hoping she can create at least a few good memories.” Sylvie’s voice carried a tone of understanding, indicating she had experienced some tough times herself. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.”
The store was one of those small-town places that tried to do everything for everyone.
Groceries, hardware, and a small pharmacy in the back.
She grabbed a cart with a squeaky wheel, and they strolled the narrow aisles at a relaxed pace, Sylvie reading from the list while Jewel navigated the shelves.
After dropping a bag of flour into the cart, Sylvie looked at her questioningly. “So, how long have you been staying at Cole’s place?”
“For a few months. It started as temporary. I was just helping with Beckett until things were less complicated.” She kept her tone neutral, fully aware that she was being evaluated.
“And now?”
“Now it’s still temporary. Just longer-term temporary. And it’s still complicated.”
Sylvie laughed, her whole face lighting up. “That’s one way to put it. Conrad mentioned you were some kind of investigator?”
She hesitated, her hand hovering over a can of tomatoes. “Technically, I’m what’s called a skip tracer.”
Sylvie’s eyebrows raised in question.
“I find people who don’t want to be found.”
“I see. Sounds interesting. Is it dangerous?”
After adding some tomatoes to the cart, she continued down the aisle. “I guess it can be, sometimes. But mostly it’s just paperwork and persistence. What about you? Conrad said you help run the ranch?”
“Help is a bit of an understatement. I pretty much run everything, while he handles the oil side of things. We’ve got about three hundred head of cattle, plus the horse-breeding program. It’s a lot to manage, but I grew up on a ranch. It’s what I know.” Sylvie added a bag of sugar to the cart.
“Do you like it?”
She paused, her expression softening. “I love it. Even when it’s hard, and when we’re up at four in the morning dealing with a difficult calving or a broken fence in the middle of winter.
There’s something genuinely honest about ranch work.
The land doesn’t lie to you. The animals don’t pretend to be something they’re not.
If you put in the work, you get results. If you slack off, you pay for it.”
Jewel found herself growing more fond of the woman standing beside her. There was no pretense or careful posturing, only genuine honesty.
As they moved through the store, their conversation flowed easily from ranching to horses to Della’s obsession with Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. By the time they’d loaded everything into the truck, Jewel felt like she’d made a real friend. It was something that had been in short supply lately.
She waved toward a small building with a hand-painted sign. “There’s a coffee shop across the street. Want to grab some coffee before we head back?”
Sylvie’s face lit up. “Oh, yes. Please. I love Conrad, but if I have to drink one more cup of his truck stop coffee, I might seriously have to file for divorce.”
The coffee shop resembled those found in every small town.
It had mismatched furniture, local art on the walls, and a chalkboard menu displaying drinks with names like “Mountain Morning” and “Adirondack Afternoon.” Jewel ordered a latte, and Sylvie got a black coffee, then they settled into a corner table by the window.
They sat in peaceful silence for a few minutes, watching the street outside. A few cars went by, followed by a woman with a stroller. An old man walking an even older dog was also passed by.
Finally, Sylvie wrapped her hands around her mug, looking at her with curiosity.
“Can I ask you something? What are you investigating right now? Conrad mentioned you’re looking into something related to Cole.
And I saw how you and Cole have been acting cautious and distant around each other.
It’s almost like you’re afraid to get too close. ”
Jewel took a sip of her latte, buying herself time. “It’s complicated.”
“Most things worth talking about are.”
She looked at Sylvie, observing the open expression on her face, and decided she could be honest with her. “I’ve been investigating what happened to Vivian. Cole’s… Beck’s mother.”
Sylvie’s expression remained unchanged, showing no surprise or judgment, just patient interest. “And?”
“And I found out that before she disappeared, she was having an affair with her ex-boyfriend, Trevor Montgomery. He was back in town recovering from a rodeo injury. She visited him in the hospital and spent time with him after he was out. Beckett even told me that Trevor came to the house and that Vivian told him to keep it a secret from Cole.”
“So you think she ran off with this Trevor guy? Without telling Cole or anyone else?”
“That’s what it looks like. The timeline fits. She disappeared in mid-April, about a month after Trevor was released from the hospital. Plenty of time for him to recover enough to travel. And now Trevor’s back on the rodeo circuit, living the life she missed.”
Sylvie processed this, her brown eyes thoughtful. “And you think Cole knew about it?”
“He knew everything. About the affair, about Trevor being back in town, all of it. He knew about it, and he didn’t tell me. Not until I confronted him with what I’d found.” The words came out more bitter than she intended.
“Did he say why he didn’t tell you?”
“He said he was afraid to tell anyone. That if the police knew he’d found out about the affair, and that they’d fought about it, they’d think he had a motive.
And if he told me, I’d think the same.” She traced the rim of her mug with one finger.
“And he was right. Since I found out he’s been lying to me, I don’t know what to believe. ”
“But you stayed anyway.”
“Susan’s surgery is in three days. Beckett needs stability. And Cole…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.
“You care about him.”
She looked up, meeting Sylvie’s gaze. “I do, which makes this whole thing so much harder. I’m an investigator.
I’m supposed to be objective, look at all the evidence, and follow where it leads.
Instead, I’m living in his house, taking care of his son, and falling for him even though I can’t be sure if he’s being honest with me. ”
For a moment, Sylvie was quiet, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm on her mug. “Can I tell you something my grandmother used to say?”
“Please.”
“She told me that your head will lie to you. It’ll come up with a thousand reasons why something is or isn’t true, why you should or shouldn’t do something.
It’ll twist facts, create scenarios, and drive you half-crazy with what-ifs.
But your gut never lies. It knows things your head hasn’t figured out yet. The trick is learning to listen to it.”
She shook her head skeptically. If only it were that simple. “Okay, so, what’s your gut telling you about all this?”
Sylvie smiled. “Uh-uh. I asked you first. What does your gut tell you about Cole? Not the evidence, not the timeline, not the he-said-she-said running through your head. What does your gut say about him?”
She closed her eyes, choosing to feel instead of think. She pushed past her doubts, fears, and the very reasonable worries about getting involved with a man who might be lying. What did she truly believe deep down where logic couldn’t reach?
“My gut tells me he didn’t hurt her, that he’s a good man who made a mistake by not being honest with me. That he’s scared, protective, and maybe a little broken, but not dangerous.”
Sylvie looked satisfied. “Well then, that’s your answer.”
“But what if my gut is wrong? What if I’m just seeing what I want because I have feelings for him?”
There was a hint of sadness in her expression when Sylvie looked away. “If that happens, then you’ll handle it. But from my experience, when a woman’s gut tells her a man is good, it’s rarely wrong. It’s usually when we ignore our gut and listen to our head that we get into trouble.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
Sylvie sipped her coffee. “Maybe. Conrad’s not an easy man.
He’s stubborn, holds grudges, and can be as cold as ice when angry.
When I first met him, everyone told me to stay away.
That he was too intense, too difficult, too damaged from his childhood.
My head agreed, but my gut said he was worth the trouble. ”
“And was he?”