Dawson’s heated kiss was more than Sylvie had bargained for. Yet she couldn’t seem to pull away, despite the warning signals flashing bright red in her head. When Dawson deepened their kiss, she felt herself floating off the ground.
Whoa, what was she doing?
With superhuman will power she managed to break off their kiss. Her legs were wobbly, but she did her best to stand on her own two feet. She barely noticed Kilo bumping into her with his head as if wanting to share in the embrace.
Uh, where were they? What were they doing? She gazed around the kitchen as if she’d never seen it before.
“That was incredible,” Dawson drawled, a grin spreading across his features. “We should try it again.”
Yes. No! She pulled her scattered thoughts together. She’d been married, but Paul hadn’t sent her mind spinning the way Dawson did. She cleared her throat. “Ah, no, we shouldn’t. I was just—” she couldn’t finish because she had no clue what she’d been doing. She never should have kissed him.
“I’m here if you change your mind,” Dawson murmured.
“I’m grateful for your support, but I have work to do.” She forced herself to take several steps back. “And I’m sure you have to get back to the Copper Creek, too.”
Mentioning his father’s ranch caused his brow to furrow. “Yeah, I need to check in with my dad. But I won’t leave you here alone for long.”
“I’m fine.” She put as much emphasis on the words as she could muster. The horror from the barn fire that she knew full well had been set on purpose lingered in the back of her mind, nagging like a sore tooth. She hoped Deputy Rick Holmes would show up, sooner than later. Her cough was better, but her throat was still sore. “I need to get out there and check on the horses.”
“Go ahead, I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
She nodded, then turned away. It wasn’t until she was outside looking at what was left of the barn, that she remembered he was making pot roast. She was torn between going back inside to help—as it wasn’t his job to cook for them—and continuing on to check on the horses.
When she saw Josh riding Storm, she narrowed her gaze and immediately crossed over to the coral. This was the second time she’d noticed him riding the stallion, as if it were his own. “Hey, how is Storm doing? Is he okay after the fire?”
“He’s still a bit jittery,” Josh said. “Good thing I found him in his paddock, I was worried he’d go after the mares.”
He stopped in front of her, and she held his gaze. “Seems as if whoever started the fire made sure Storm and the other horses were safe.”
“I know how this looks, but it wasn’t me,” Josh said without hesitation. “I wouldn’t do something so reckless.”
“Not even to convince me to leave?”
“No! Come on, this is your home, Sylvie. Why would I want you to leave?”
Nice words, but she wasn’t sure she believed the sentiment behind them. In her mind, Josh was still a suspect. Although what he’d hoped to gain was a mystery. It wasn’t like her father would sell him the ranch, even if Josh could afford it, which she knew full well he couldn’t.
Scaring her wasn’t likely to change anything, either. She ducked between the fence rails and strode over to where a group of geldings and mares were huddled together.
“Easy now, it’s okay.” She stroked Alice, another of her favorite mares, then smiled when Fanny nudged her, wanting her fair share of attention, too. Concern for her horses brought tears to her eyes, but she quickly swiped at them before Josh or any of the ranch hands could see. “We are all going to be fine.”
There wasn’t enough time to do a full nose to hoof inspection of every horse, but overall, they seemed unharmed. No signs of burns or other injuries. She’d call the veterinarian and ask him to take a trip out to examine them more closely.
Satisfied for the moment, she headed back over to the charred barn. The damage was mostly focused on the back wall, where the haystack had been. Somehow it looked worse in the daylight making her angry all over again.
Josh had put Storm back in his paddock and joined her. Several of the ranch hands were milling about, too.
“We need to get this repaired ASAP.” She swept her gaze over the group. “I want a team of you to pull the damaged wood down, while Josh and Ace head to town to get new lumber.”
There was a moment’s pause as the ranch hands looked at Josh. She ground her teeth together in frustration.
“You heard the lady. Let’s get it done.” Josh gestured for Ace Abbott to follow him. “We’ll take the Suburban.”
Ace nodded and the rest of the cowboys scattered to get the tools they’d need to get to work. She sighed and eyed the damage again.
As if there wasn’t enough work to do on the ranch.
She was about to turn to head back inside to check on Dawson and the pot roast, when she noticed a police squad coming down the long winding driveway. The squad passed Josh and Ace in the Suburban, but didn’t slow down. A minor point in the deputies favor that he didn’t try to talk to the ranch foreman before meeting with her.
Although she wouldn’t have minded the deputy questioning Josh and Ace, along with the others. As she waited for the deputy to arrive, Dawson and Kilo came out of the house to join her.
“I’m sorry I left the cooking for you,” she began but he waved her off.
“It’s all set. Glad to see the cops have arrived.”
“Me, too.” When Deputy Holmes came to a stop, she moved forward. “Glad to see you, Rick. We had another incident last night.”
“You did?” He looked surprised. “What happened?”
“I’ll show you.” She turned and strode toward the barn. Holmes, Dawson and Kilo followed.
Holmes let out a low whistle when he saw the charred boards and hole in the back wall of the barn. “A fire?”
“Set on purpose. All the horses had been removed from the barn, the stallion, Storm was put in his own paddock to keep him from the other horses.” She arched a brow. “Considerate of the arsonist to take care of the livestock, don’t you think?”
Homes pushed the rim of his hat upward, as he surveyed the damage. “This is serious, Sylvie. He could have started a wildfire.”
“Yes, it’s very serious. Especially when you add in the other attempts to hurt me.” She was glad Dawson stayed back, allowing her to take the lead. “Three, no wait, four attacks in less than twenty-four hours is not a coincidence.”
“Four?” Rick echoed.
She ticked them off her fingers. “Gunshot causing me to be thrown off my horse, boulder sent down the ravine while we were going down lizard trail, the pitchfork that came flying at me in the barn, missing me by inches, and lastly this fire.”
Deputy Holmes let out a breath. “Obviously not a coincidence. We’ll get them all documented, Sylvie.”
She gestured to the hole in the wall. “I believe the source of the fire was here, where it burned the hottest. There were a couple stacks of hay sitting there which are nothing but ash, now.”
“I see that.” Deputy Holmes rubbed the edge of his jaw, before swinging around to look at her. “You must have an idea of who is behind these incidents.”
“My foreman, Josh O’Leary, my ex husband, Paul Griffin, my brother Sean McLane.” She shrugged. “Possibly Max Wolfe, foreman from the Copper Creek Ranch.”
Dawson moved forward as if to protest, but she narrowed her gaze in warning, so he kept his mouth shut. These were her list of suspects, not his.
And she wasn’t about to pull any punches.
“What about you?” Deputy Holmes turned to Dawson.
“I would never hurt Sylvie, but I understand why you would consider me a suspect. However, I pulled Sylvie to safety, was with her when the boulder came crashing down, and was standing beside her when the pitchfork came flying toward us. Kilo here,” he gestured to his yellow lab, “alerted us to the fire. If he hadn’t growled in warning, the blaze may have spread to other buildings, and the rest of the ranch.”
“Okay, that leaves four suspects,” Deputy Holmes said with a nod. “I’ll need to talk to them, and to the others.”
“Any chance we can get a deputy here to keep an eye on things?” Dawson asked.
Rick shook his head. “Sorry, we’re not staffed for that.”
“It’s fine. Josh and Ace just left to get lumber,” Sylvie told him. “But I would appreciate you starting with the ranch hands who are here, now. Any of them could have been hired to do one or more of these attacks.”
“Will do.” Holmes nodded and moved over to the group of guys who lingered nearby. Sylvie wanted to listen to hear what they had to say, but there was too much work to be done.
She had to haul hay out to feed the horses, then help work on the barn repairs. She turned away, but Dawson caught her arm.
“Listen, I told my dad I need to stick around here for a while, so put me to work. What do you want me to do?”
“Are you sure? I feel bad keeping you from helping your dad.”
“He assured me Max has everything under control.” Dawson hesitated, then said, “I really don’t think the Copper Creek foreman is involved.”
“Maybe not.” She couldn’t help but sigh. “But think about it, Dawson. We’re looking at anyone who might have a reason to scare me off. It’s not a secret that your dad has first dibs on the ranch if my dad decides to sell. Max knows that, as do all the ranch hands. That kind of news gets around mighty quick.”
“Yeah, but Max doesn’t have the money to buy out my dad, much less this ranch. And frankly, neither does Josh.”
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t looking for a short cut to owning property of their own. And face it, your dad and mine would likely set up in a will for either of our foremen to inherit the ranch, if you and I were both out of the picture. It’s not as if either one of us has extended family to take over.”
“Except in your case, the ranch would go to your brother, first.”
“Right.” She couldn’t argue. Deep in her heart she knew the two most logical suspects were her ex-husband and her brother.
Two men who had once been so close to her, but who were now apparently willing to ruthlessly stab her in the back, or worse.
Doing whatever was necessary to get what they wanted.
The pain in Sylvie’s green gaze gnawed at him. He hated how vulnerable she was here. Impossible to find one man, or even two hiding somewhere within the fifteen hundred acres that comprised McLane Mountain Ranch.
His plan was to stick to her like glue, but he really needed to get back to the Copper Creek. For one thing, he needed more dog food and other supplies for Kilo. Additional clothes for himself, ones that weren’t borrowed and didn’t reek like smoke, would be nice too. But a big part of leaving was so that he could check on his dad.
“Rick seems to be taking this seriously,” Sylvie said, looking over to where the deputy had pulled one of the ranch hands aside to talk to him out of earshot of the others. “That’s a good sign.”
“It is, yes. I need to head back to the Copper Creek, Sylvie.” He rested his hand on her arm. “I’d like you to stick around the group of ranch hands while I’m gone, don’t go off anywhere alone. I’ll return as quickly as possible.”
“I understand, and I’ll be fine.” Her smile was forced and he knew she was anything but fine.
Maybe he could get back before the deputy finished up. He strode toward the coral where Diamond was waiting. He detoured into the barn to grab his tack, then went out to saddle his horse.
“Come, Kilo.” He figured the dog should be able to keep while he took the most direct route to his dad’s place. It wasn’t scenic, but speed and efficiency were more important.
Kilo loved to run and easily kept up. But when the canine grew tired, he slowed Diamond’s pace. “You okay, boy?”
Kilo looked up at him and wagged his tail.
Dawson swept a keen gaze over the area, searching for signs of anything unusual. But he didn’t see anything on the trip back to the Copper Creek. He headed straight for the barn, expecting to see Max Wolfe, but there was no sign of the foreman.
Because he was hiding somewhere on McLane Mountain? He didn’t really believe Max to be a serious suspect.
After caring for Diamond, he headed up to the house with Kilo at his side. He’d already decided to drive his SUV back to Sylvie’s place. She had plenty of horses he could borrow if needed, and he already had most of Kilo’s stuff stored in his SUV.
“Dad?” Dawson frowned when there was no answer to his call. A niggle of worry ate at him, as he checked the living room, then headed to his father’s master bedroom.
Both were empty. His Dad’s truck was parked next to his SUV, so he hadn’t left the ranch that way.
Was his dad riding so soon? He knew the physical therapists had cautioned his dad to take it slow.
Dawson hurried outside again, Kilo shadowing him. In the distance he could see two riders making their way back from the east pasture. It wasn’t easy to see their features, but he felt certain the two riders were Max and his dad.
He packed his clothes in a large duffel and took it outside to his SUV. Then he stored Kilo’s fifty pound bag of dogfood next to it. He idly rubbed his abdominal muscles that were still achy after rescuing Sylvie and fighting the fire last night.
“Dawg? Is that you?”
Dawson tried not to grimace as Max used his old SEAL nickname. For some reason, it bugged him that the ranch foreman who hadn’t served in the military thought he could call him by the name his SEAL teammates used. Max learned about the nickname when his buddy had called asking for Dawg. Max wasn’t his best friend, but maybe he was letting Sylvie’s suspicions mess with his head.
“Hey, good to see you both. Dad, I’m surprised you’re riding again. That therapist told you to take it easy, didn’t he?”
“Bah,” his father waved a hand. “Been riding my whole life, not going to give it up now.”
Dawson sighed and decided there was no point in arguing, especially since there was no sign of discomfort on his dad’s face. Landon Steele clearly wasn’t going to give up riding, unless the pain got to him.
“Heard there was trouble last night at the Double M,” Max said.
Many of the locals called McLane Mountain the Double M, although that was not the name of the ranch. He kept his gaze on Max. “What did you hear?”
“There was a fire in the barn.” Max looked at him with a frown. “We could smell the smoke all the way out here. I sent a ranch hand to investigate, in case we had a wildfire brewing.”
The foreman’s explanation made sense, so Dawson nodded. “Yeah, there was a fire. Thankfully we were able to douse the flames before they spread.”
“I can’t believe someone was so careless as to start a fire,” his dad said. When his old man dismounted from his horse, a flicker of discomfort flashed across his features. “That could have ended very badly.”
He eyed the two men for a long moment, debating how much to tell them. Then he realized that the truth would get out soon, once Sylvie’s ranch hands were finished being questioned by the deputy.
“The fire was started on purpose.” He watched Max’s expression carefully. “The arsonist was thoughtful enough to take all the horses out of the barn, putting them in various paddocks, including isolating their stallion.”
“What? Who would do that?” His father demanded.
Dawson didn’t look away from Max. “Did you hear anything about that, Max?”
There was a moment’s hesitation before the foreman nodded. “Yeah, you know how these cowboys talk. They gossip worse than a church full of old ladies.”
Maybe, Dawson, thought. Or maybe Max knew more because he was involved in some way.
“That still doesn’t make any sense,” his father said with a frown. “What’s the point of scaring Sylvie? What do they hope to gain?”
Dawson didn’t reply, again watching Max. The foreman swung down from his mount. “Rumor has it that the fire was an attempt to pressure Sylvie into selling the place.”
“What?” His father looked horrified by that. “That’s nuts! Sylvie has been doing a great job in running the place while Connor is being treated for cancer.”
“Hey, I’m just repeating what some of the guys are saying.” Max turned to face Dawson. “What does Connor think?”
“Deputy Holmes is at McLane Mountain down, questioning everyone about the fire.” Dawson didn’t answer Max’s question. “I’m wondering if I should have Holmes come here, too, to talk to your guys since they seem to be a wealth of information.”
A spark of anger darkened Max’s gaze. “That’s not necessary, no one here is responsible for anything that took place at the Double M last night.”
Dawson wished he could believe him. “I’ll leave that decision up to the Deputy.” Then he turned toward his dad. “I’m planning to head back over to Sylvie’s for a couple of days, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure, sure. I’m fine.” Seeing his father riding was somewhat reassuring. “Max has everything under control.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Dawson wasn’t lying, he truly was glad his dad had Max’s help. “Thanks, Max. I appreciate everything you’re doing here.”
“It’s my job.” Max’s tone was curt and he scowled as he reached for the reins of his dad’s horse. “I’ll take care of these rides and check in later.”
Dawson watched him leave, then took his dad’s arm to go inside. “I hope you didn’t overdo the horseback riding.”
“We took a short ride to the east pasture and back. The cattle are looking good, and Max is planning to move half the herd to the south pasture later today.” His dad eased himself into a kitchen chair. “I’m troubled by the fire.”
“Me, too. Which is why I’m heading over there for a few days.” He hesitated, then asked, “Dad, if I decided not to stay in Montana, would you gift the ranch to Max?”
His father frowned. “I’d rather you take over the ranch, Dawson.”
“I know, but if I didn’t want to, what would you do? Max often acts as if he’s a co-owner of the place.”
“That’s only because he’s lived here for the past twenty-five years. But if you’re asking me if I’d sell Max the ranch if you didn’t want it? I can’t do that, the right of first refusal goes to Connor and Sylvie. If they turned it down, then I’d consider Max. Although I’d like you to agree to the terms.”
“I don’t need your money, dad. I’ve done fine for myself over the years.”
“My dad took over from his dad after settling here, nearly ninety years ago.” His father’s expression was serious. “I’m not going to lie, Dawson. It would hurt me to sell the property to someone else. I was hoping you’d settle down here, maybe raise a family of your own.”
Sylvie’s face, flushed from his kiss flashed in his mind. “I understand, Dad. I’ll see how things work out. For now, I need to protect Sylvie. I hope you can understand that.”
“Sure thing. I’ve always liked that gal.” The suggestive look in his father’s eye made it clear his old man would love nothing more than the two ranches to be merged by his marrying Sylvie.
Too bad, Dawson wasn’t necessarily sure he wanted to be a rancher. Just thinking about being stuck in one place for the rest of his life brought a sense of dread.
No way. Uh-huh. He couldn’t imagine it.
“Okay, I’ll check in with you later, Dad. Come, Kilo.” He strode to the door, glancing back at his father one more time. He could tell his dad was trying to figure out where he went wrong with raising Dawson. Why his own son wasn’t interested in his legacy.
Times like this, he wished he had brothers. It was a heavy burden to know he was disappointing his father.
He opened the back of the SUV for Kilo. Once the dog was settled, he slid behind the wheel and took the driveway to the narrow ribbon of highway. The driving route to Sylvie’s was longer than riding across the open fields, giving him way too much time with his troubled thoughts.
It wasn’t fair to flirt with Sylvie if he wasn’t planning on sticking around for the long term. She’d already been through one divorce and was struggling to keep the ranch going in the face of adversity. She didn’t need him piling on more trouble.
His primary goal was to keep her safe. He wasn’t looking for a wife, or a life partner, certainly not someone with roots dug deep into the relentless Montana soil. Which meant, no more cuddling, kissing or generally enjoying her company.
A task easier said than done.
Soon, he pulled up in front of Sylvie’s ranch house. To his dismay, there was no sign of the sheriff’s deputy squad car. He hadn’t passed it along the road, so the deputy must have left a while ago.
Not a good investigative job, in his opinion.
He let Kilo out, and then glanced around for Sylvie. There were several ranch hands working on the horse barn, so he headed in that direction. Then frowned when he noticed the guy on top of the barn roof wasn’t a man at all.
It was Sylvie. He inwardly groaned, knowing he should have figured she’d be the one up top ready and willing to prove herself as capable as any of the other guys.
“Sylvie?” He called out as he approached. She looked up from her work, halting the process of removing a singed board.
“What?” She sounded a bit cranky.
“Come on down, I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes.” He wanted to update her on the conversation he had with Max Wolfe, but not in front of an audience.
She hesitated, then nodded in agreement. She finished removing the board she’d been working on, tossing it to the ground, then moved toward the edge of the roof. A tall ladder was propped along the side.
But before she made it to the edge, the boards beneath her feet creaked loudly. Dawson could tell what was going to happen, seconds before she let out a cry as her feet broke through the roof. Dawson darted through the hole along the back of the barn in time to grab her legs to prevent her from falling the rest of the way.
“I’ve got you.” He ignored the pull of his injured abdominal muscles as he lowered her to the concrete floor.
His earlier lecture to himself vanished in the wake of the near disaster. He pulled her in for a tight hug. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Her voice was muffled against his chest. Then she pushed away to look up at the roof. “I don’t understand what happened. I’d been up there for twenty minutes without a problem.”
He followed her gaze, then frowned when he saw a hole in one of the cross beams where a screw should have been. He stepped back, then found the screw on the floor, along with several others. They’d been loosened, and likely not from the fire.
This was yet another act of vandalism.
How many more of these attempts would take place before Sylvie suffered a catastrophic injury?