Harper peeked through the mini blinds to watch Heath the Cowboy march to his big truck with dual wheels in the back.
His jeans and shirt fit nicely. He hadn’t smelled of horses like he had at the river. Instead, she’d caught the scent of soap and musky cologne. He’d been clean-shaven as well. While those scents lingered in the camper, she closed her eyes and drew them in. Broad-shouldered and thoughtful, he filled her mind. His goodness filtered through to a part of her heart, though she had tried to guard it.
She knew to always steer clear of letting herself grow attached. She was much too shattered, too broken already, and couldn’t afford to risk losing someone. Besides, Heath was loyal and trustworthy, and he deserved someone he could count on. Harper wasn’t that person.
Why Heath had triggered these thoughts she wasn’t sure—except the man, this person from her past, had somehow quickly curled around her heart as though he would soften it and step right into her life.
Why couldn’t she follow her own advice to steer clear? She’d accepted the camera, telephoto lens, and tripod. Her mother would have given her a lecture. Shame filled her.
She thought about the reasons he’d given for getting her a new camera. An expensive new camera. She shouldn’t have accepted it. But Heath was such a good guy, and Harper had the strong sense that refusing his gift would have been the wrong thing to do. It would have hurt him. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Heath McKade.
A big cowboy with a big heart who gave big gifts.
She’d hurt him once before when she’d been forced to leave with only a goodbye. They’d had a bond then.
A murder had broken it. Time and distance had sealed the break.
Strange that a murder had brought them back together.
And that drew her back to her question. What was the real reason Heath had given her a new camera?
The reasons he had offered were good, but nobody was that thoughtful anymore. It couldn’t be that Heath wanted to pursue a relationship with her, could it? Sure, they’d been best friends long ago, but that couldn’t possibly translate into something romantic years later.
Even if it could, she wasn’t staying in Wyoming. Eventually, she would go back to Missouri. If he showed up again bearing gifts, she’d have to make it clear she wasn’t interested, even if she hurt him.
The camera rested on the small table, accusing her.
Another glimpse through the mini blinds confirmed that he’d left. Emily was nowhere to be seen, but Harper could trust that her sister had been watching for him to leave and would be back soon. Emily had seemed especially cheerful earlier. Harper suspected that Emily was trying to lift Harper’s mood.
And that meant Harper needed to avoid her for now. So she went to the bedroom and closed the door. She hated sleeping the day away, but she’d been through a lot and was dealing with the pain. She made sure the room was nice and dark before climbing into bed.
Emily would have questions, and Harper didn’t have answers. She would try to persuade Harper it was time to head home as soon as the sheriff released her to go.
But the woman . . . her eyes . . .
God, please let him find something to corroborate my story.
Harper couldn’t think straight. Maybe Emily was right. She’d sleep on it, then decide—that is, if her mind would let her rest.
Witnessing her father’s murder had left her with flashbacks. Nightmares. Insomnia. Childhood trauma victims often dreamed about death. Like she’d told Heath—the grief of the past stood in the way of her healing.
Hence the reason she’d snapped at her captain—on multiple occasions—and that was that. He put her on medical leave.
But what was she supposed to do with her time? Sit home and fold in on herself? Fortunately, her therapist suggested she focus on photographing something other than crime scenes, such as nature, so she decided on national parks instead. She figured after enough time and many images later, she’d be ready to see the park closest to the place where she’d grown up—where the tragedy had occurred. So she left Yellowstone and Grand Teton for last.
As for the old house where she and Emily had grown up, seeing that was on Emily’s list. Her sister had spent time and money renovating the old Airstream and could work from anywhere, so the pieces fell into place and off they went on an adventure. Their last stop before heading to Missouri—to see the old house—Harper could live without that.
After all, she’d witnessed a murder there and had nightmares about the place.
She’d been sleeping better these last few months as they traveled, but the murder across the river had fired all her insomnia neurons.
And the guilt had reared its ugly head again.
She rolled over and tried to get comfortable.
“You’re a survivor, Harper. That’s nothing to feel guilty about.” Heath’s words drifted back to her.
He was right. She should stop feeling guilty and do something this time about the murder she witnessed.