Читать книгу Branded - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 6

Emma had just put the pies in the oven when the phone rang. She stared at it a moment, not sure she wanted to answer it after the last time.

“You want me to get that?” the cook asked. Celeste was a thirty-something woman, robust, flush-faced and tireless. What she lacked in a sense of humor was made up by her work ethic. At least that’s what Emma told herself.

“No, I have it.” Emma wiped her hands on her apron and walked to the wall phone in the kitchen. She picked it up on the third ring, praying it wasn’t a repeat of the two other calls she’d gotten since arriving here.

“Chisholm Cattle Company,” she said into the phone.

A beat of silence, then, “Mrs. Hoyt Chisholm?” The voice was a woman’s. She sounded elderly and according to the caller ID, a local number.

“Yes.” Emma held her breath, hoping the woman was someone from the nearby town of Whitehorse who’d called to welcome her to the area and wish her well on her marriage.

“You need to get out of that house before you end up dead, too. Your husband is cursed when it comes to wives.”

“I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?” Emma asked.

“The Chisholm curse. You’ve been warned.” As the woman slammed down the phone, Emma jerked the receiver away from her ear.

“Something wrong?” Celeste asked.

“Wrong number.” She hung up hoping the cook didn’t see the way her hand was shaking. Emma wasn’t ready to confide in either Celeste or the housekeeper, Mae. She’d seen how shocked they’d been that Hoyt had remarried. While neither of them had said anything, she’d noticed that they stayed to themselves, rebuffing any attempts she made to gain their trust—let alone their friendship.

“How long have you worked for Mr. Chisholm?” Emma asked Celeste now. She hadn’t want to ask too many questions, hoping to gain the employees’ trust by being helpful and pleasant and find out more about each of the women—and more about Whitehorse and how Chisholm Cattle Company fit into the scheme of things—as time went on.

That, she’d come to realize, wasn’t going to happen.

“Just over a year,” Celeste said.

“And Mae?”

“About six months.”

Emma felt her brow shoot up in surprise.

“Not a lot of people want to work out here,” Celeste said.

“Why is that?” She knew the wages were good and Hoyt was congenial and easy to work for, from what she’d seen.

The cook seemed to search her gaze, as if she wondered if Emma was joking. Or testing her. “It’s a long drive.”

She could tell there was more, but that the woman wasn’t going to tell her for some reason. “Surely someone lasted longer.”

Celeste shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

Emma wondered if it had anything to do with the Chisholm Curse. She hated to admit that the phone calls had shaken her a little.

“Those women who have been calling you, they’re just jealous,” her friend Debra had said when she called Denver later that afternoon. Celeste had left for the day and it was Mae’s day off. Emma had the house to herself until supper when Celeste would return to help her cook for her large new family.

“Hoyt Chisholm must have been the most eligible bachelor in all of Montana,” her friend said. “Don’t let some old biddies get to you. He picked you. He loves you.”

Yes, Emma thought. And she loved Hoyt. “Still, it seems odd.” The last elderly neighboring ranchwoman’s call hadn’t sounded malicious. She’d sounded scared for her.

COLTON WAS WAITING BY THE ROAD when he finally saw the Sheriff’s Department patrol car approaching. His mind was reeling from the letter—and what he’d found under the cottonwood tree.

Inside Jessica’s purse he’d discovered her wallet with her driver’s license, $200 in cash and a bus ticket out of Whitehorse.

One one-way bus ticket? She’d said she wanted them to run away together. While she didn’t have a car of her own, she knew he had his own pickup. Did she have so little faith that he would show up that she’d gotten the ticket just in case? He felt confused. The ticket had been for the 4:00 a.m. bus that would have left just hours after they were to meet at their secret spot.

Why had she thought she’d be leaving Whitehorse alone?

But if her purse was buried under the tree root, then how could she have left town? And why would she bury her purse? It made no sense. It made his blood run cold because he knew she wouldn’t have buried it—just as he couldn’t see how she could have left without it.

A terrible dread had settled into his bones by the time the sheriff’s deputy pulled up next to his pickup and a female deputy stepped out.

She wore jeans, cowboy boots and a tan uniform shirt with a Whitehorse County Sheriff’s Department patch on the sleeve. Colton felt his heart drop like a stone off a cliff as he recognized her. He swore under his breath. Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse. “Halley?”

DEPUTY HALLEY ROBINSON had told herself after moving back to Whitehorse that sooner or later she was going to cross paths with Colton Chisholm. When she’d left Whitehorse after junior high school, hadn’t she sworn that one day she would return and make Colton sorry?

But that had been a young girl’s dream of revenge. Halley was no longer that young, impressionable girl.

Lucky for Colton, she thought, since here they both were again, and oh, how the tables had turned.

“Colton,” she said, secretly enjoying the fact that he’d remembered her.

“You’re the new deputy?”

She smiled in answer. When the call came in, she’d been the only one on duty in the area. The county was a large one, stretching from the Missouri River to the south and all the way to Canada on the north.

“So, why don’t you tell me what the problem is,” she said, all business again. “You told the dispatcher you’d found Jessica Granger’s purse and you believe something might have happened to her?”

He nodded, looking as if he now regretted making that call to the sheriff’s office. Reaching into the cab of his pickup, he lifted out a weathered leather purse and handed it to her.

“It’s Jessica’s. I found it at a spot we used to meet.”

She raised her gaze to his. “A secret spot, the dispatcher said.”

He chewed at the inside of his cheek for a moment. “That’s right.”

“And there was something about a lost letter?”

Colton rubbed the back of his neck. His hair was longer than she’d ever seen it, but back in junior high, his father had taken clippers to all six of the boys, giving them buzz cuts. That was probably why she hadn’t remembered the color, a combination of ripe wheat and sunshine that brought out the gold flecks in his blue eyes.

She felt that old quiver inside as her gaze me his. Colton Chisholm had been adorable in grade school.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d grown into a drop-dead good-looking man.

He reached into his jean jacket pocket and brought out a worse-for-wear looking, age-yellowed envelope. He held it as if not wanting to relinquish the letter to her, then finally handed it over.

Halley noted the postmark and the return address before opening the envelope. She quickly read what Jessica had written on the single sheet inside. The writing was young, girlish. She remembered Jessica Granger only too well. Jessica had been one of those annoyingly silly, all-girl girls while Halley had been a daredevil, tree-climbing, ball-throwing, horse-riding tomboy.

The letter, she noted, had been mailed fourteen years ago—only a few years after Halley had left Whitehorse brokenhearted because of Colton Chisholm.

Her gaze slid up to his again. He looked damn uncomfortable. Guilt? “What was it she had to tell you?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t get the letter until today.”

“You’re saying you didn’t meet her that night?”

“No. How could I since I never got the letter?” He sounded both angry and upset and she could see that he was more than a little shaken by this. He turned to get a United States Postal Department manila envelope from the pickup cab. He thrust it at her. “You can check with Albert if you don’t believe me.”

Halley wasn’t sure what she believed. She was having a hard time separating the boy he’d been from the man standing before her. As a boy, he’d been too cute for his own good. Now he had a rough, sexy look about him that was enhanced by what was clearly a strong, worked-hard, ranch body.

She was sure women found him irresistible and wondered how many hearts he’d broken. It made her think of her own fragile, small one that had taken a beating all those years ago because of him.

“Jessica didn’t phone you when you didn’t show up? Didn’t try to contact you?”

His golden gaze met hers and held it. “I never saw her again. I was told that she left town, just like she said she was going to do in the letter. I tried to find out where she’d gone, but …” He wagged his head and looked down at the toes of his Western boots. “Her family wouldn’t tell me anything. Her dad didn’t like me.”

Imagine that. “You have a fight?”

He looked away toward the foothills, his face filled with a pain that could have been guilt. Or she supposed it was possible he’d really cared about this girl. It amazed her that the thought could still hurt.

“It was just a stupid disagreement,” he said finally.

“Over … ?”

“Nothing, just dumb high school stuff.”

He was lying. Halley wondered what the fight had been about and whom he was trying to protect. Jessica Granger? Or himself? Jessica had said in the letter she wanted to tell him something that night.

“Would you have gone away with her?”

He swung his gaze back to her as if surprised by the question. “I was in love with her. I would have done anything she asked.”

Halley nodded, unable to hide her surprise by his impassioned response—or her quick flash of jealousy. There’d been a time she would have given anything to have the boy Colton had been feel that way about her.

“Why do I get the feeling there is a whole lot more to this?” Maybe she just wanted to believe it because this was Colton Chisholm she was dealing with.

He didn’t answer. The look he gave her said he feared she was incapable of believing anything he told her. He could be right about that. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one who remembered their history. Call it puppy love, kid stuff, whatever, those old hurts lasted a lifetime.

“Why a letter? Why didn’t she just call you and ask you to meet her?”

Colton hung his head, studying his boot toes again. “I don’t know. Maybe her father wouldn’t let her call.”

“Or maybe she thought you wouldn’t take her call.”

He shot her an angry look. “We had an argument. Her dad didn’t want her seeing me. It was complicated. None of that has anything to do with anything.”

Halley lifted a brow, unconvinced.

“Look, I don’t care what you think about me, I just need to know what happened to her.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

Colton shifted, anger making his broad shoulders appear even broader. He looked ready to take her on, just as he had when they were kids. Except that he appeared to have already been in a fight. He was favoring his ribs and there was discoloration around one of his eyes. This time it hadn’t been some skinny, spunky tomboy in the school yard who’d given him the shiner, though, she suspected.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “Jessica wouldn’t have left without her purse that night.”

“So you think she’s still out there,” Halley said and felt a chill snake up her spine. “I think you’d better show me this secret place of yours and I’m going to have to keep this letter—at least until we get this cleared up.”

COLTON DIDN’T WANT TO come back to the spot on the creek. It had been tough enough earlier. Now it was pure hell. He felt sick to his stomach as Halley parked the patrol SUV in the clearing and cut the engine. She’d insisted that he ride with her. He could feel her watching him, looking for … what? Proof that he was everything she thought he was and worse?

Hell, he’d never felt more guilty in his life. He’d let Jessica down. Hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him the most. Because in his heart, he knew what they were going to find here. In his heart, he knew Jessica had never left their secret spot that night.

The sun pounded down with a heat that stole his breath. The quiet was deafening as they climbed out of the SUV and walked along the secluded path toward the stand of cottonwoods. It was as if every living thing had deserted the area. Even the water in the small creek fell silent.

“This is where I found the purse,” he said when they finally reached the grove of trees. “I tripped on the strap.” He could feel her gaze on him before she glanced around. He could imagine what she was thinking. He felt anger rise in him again, but swallowed it back. “I didn’t kill her.”

Halley’s brow quirked up. “You’re that sure she’s dead?’

“Can we please stop playing games here? We both know she’s dead. She wouldn’t have left without her purse and she damn sure didn’t bury it herself under that tree root.” His voice broke. “You have to find her so she can get a proper burial.”

“Where would you suggest we look for a body?” the deputy asked, clearly baiting him.

“Do you have any idea how hard this is on me?” he asked through clenched teeth. He had taken a step toward her, but now stopped, suddenly aware that her hand was resting on the butt of her gun. Did she really think he’d killed Jessica?

The heat, the quiet, the sickness in the pit of his stomach made him slump down on the edge of the creek bank. He put his head in his hands and fought back all the emotions warring inside him. “Please, just find her.”

HALLEY PULLED OUT HER CELL PHONE, all the while keeping an eye on Colton. He hadn’t moved from the creek bank. She got the number for Sid and Mildred Granger’s house. A woman picked up on the third ring.

“I’d like to speak with Jessica Granger,” Halley said and saw Colton lift his head. He frowned, the look he gave her appeared to question whether she’d lost her mind.

There was a beat of silence, then, “She isn’t here. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Can you tell me where I can reach her?”

Another beat of silence. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Is this Mrs. Granger?”

“Yes.”

Halley heard the hesitation in the woman’s voice. “I’m Sheriff’s Deputy Halley Robinson. I know this is unusual, but can you tell me when you last heard from your daughter?”

“A week ago. We got a letter. Has something happened to her?” The woman sounded scared.

“No, I’m sorry to upset you. But I would like to stop by and ask you a few questions. Something of your daughter’s has been found. I’d like to return it.”

“Something of Jessica’s?”

“I’ll come by now if that’s all right. Is your husband home as well?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll see you shortly.” She snapped the phone shut and looked at Colton. “I talked to Jessica’s mother. She says she got a letter from Jessica just last week. I’m going over there now to—”

“I’m going with you,” Colton said, shooting to his feet. “She’s lying. Jessica couldn’t have written her last week.”

A shaft of ice ran up her spine, even though the heat at the edge of the cottonwoods was intense. Why was he was so adamant that Jessica was dead unless … he’d killed her? She suddenly felt the isolation of this secret place where he used to meet his girlfriend. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stood face-to-face with a killer. But it would be the first time it was a killer she’d once loved.

“Why would her mother lie?” Halley managed to ask.

“I don’t know, but she’s lying. If Jessica was alive …” His voice trailed off, anguish twisted his handsome features into a mask of pain. “I want to see the letter she supposedly sent last week. I knew Jessica better than anyone.”

Was that so? She had no doubt that Colton had known Jessica intimately if this secret spot under the cottonwoods was any indication. But if he’d known her so well, then why didn’t he know what Jessica couldn’t wait to tell him that night?

One thing was clear. Colton was going to the Granger house. Better he go with her.

“Okay, you can come with me. But if you cause any trouble, you’ll be leaving their house in handcuffs, understood?”

He nodded and she couldn’t help but notice how pale he looked. She’d never seen Colton Chisholm this vulnerable. She’d thought it would give her some satisfaction. It didn’t.

EMMA FOUND HER HUSBAND IN THE BARN. He hadn’t gone to move cattle with all of his sons except for Colton, which wasn’t like him. She worried that he wasn’t feeling well. Or that something was bothering him. Probably her. Maybe he was regretting his impulsive rush to the altar.

She’d noticed that he’d been spending more time in the barn with his horses lately. Apparently, this is where he went when he was upset about something. She stopped just inside the door to watch him as he curried a palomino mare. Hoyt was in his late fifties, just a few years older than she was. He was a big, physically fit man with a thick head of blond hair that made the gray in it hardly noticeable. But what had stolen her heart like a thief was his penetrating blue eyes and self-deprecating charm.

She wondered about the other women who’d passed through his life and this curse her latest caller had mentioned. Had those women only known the Hoyt who laughed a lot and lived hard? Or had they stuck around long enough to know this Hoyt, the quiet, gentle rancher who Emma loved and worried about?

At breakfast she’d noticed that he was quieter than usual. Now she was sure something was eating at him and wondered how long it would take before he confided in her. Or if he would.

She was sure the other women who’d been in his life had been younger, slimmer and no doubt more beautiful than she was. She couldn’t help but wonder what had made him fall in love with her.

But whatever those other women had been like, Emma didn’t think Hoyt realized yet that he had a woman strong enough that he could lean on her.

He turned as if sensing her presence. His face lit up at the sight of her and sent her heart racing and her pulse drumming in her ears. It amazed her that this man had the ability to do that to her. She didn’t doubt that Hoyt Chisholm would be able to fill her with this same desire when she was ninety.

“Coming out here will only get you in trouble,” Hoyt said as he reached for her. He pulled her to him, nuzzled her neck, making her skin tingle. She felt his fingers slip under her Western shirt and skim across her bare midriff.

As he drew back, his gaze met hers, desire burning like a hot, blue flame.

“Have you ever made love in a hayloft?” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss her.

“Never,” she whispered back when she was able to catch her breath. Clearly he had something else in mind other than talking about what was really bothering him. If he thought he could distract her … Well, he was right.

“But you’ve secretly wanted to, haven’t you?” He was grinning at her and she knew she would have given him anything.

“How is it you always seem to know my secret desires, Hoyt Chisholm?”

Without another word he took her hand and led her through the barn to the foot of the hayloft ladder. “Ladies first.”

She saw the dare in his gaze and had a feeling no other woman had been up this ladder with him. Emma kissed him and began to climb.

“WHAT THE HELL is he doing here?”

Halley studied the man standing framed in the Granger house doorway. She vaguely remembered Sid Granger. She’d seen him around town when she was a girl because he’d worked for the city and probably still did.

“I need to speak with you and your wife,” Halley said flashing her badge. It had little effect on Sid, though. He stood glaring at Colton, looking as if he wanted to kill him. “Mr. Granger, I have something of your daughter Jessica’s.”

She held up the purse, finally getting his attention.

“That’s not my daughter’s.”

“It has Jessica’s driver’s license in it. I believe it is her purse.” Behind him a small woman appeared in a housedress and long apron, the quintessential home-maker. Millie Granger? When the woman’s eyes lit on the purse, her expression changed instantly. Suddenly she looked worried.

“Why don’t you ask your wife if it’s Jessica’s purse,” Halley said.

“It’s Jessica’s,” Millie said in a small voice. “Let them come in.”

Sid seemed surprised, but stepped back.

Halley shot Colton a look and said under her breath, “What did you do to make him hate you so much?”

Colton shook his head. “The son of a bitch was crazy when it came to Jessica.”

They followed the Grangers inside the house.

The interior of the house came as a surprise. Given the way Millie Granger was dressed, Halley had expected a lot of doilies, ruffled curtains and crocheted pillows. Instead, the feel was more masculine, including the huge stretched and dried rattlesnake skin that hung over the fireplace. She shivered. She’d never liked snakes, but she shouldn’t have been that surprised that Sid Granger did.

Sid turned abruptly the moment they were inside. “I don’t want him in my hou—”

“Colton found your daughter’s purse,” Halley said, raising her voice over his. “As I said, her driver’s license is in it along with a bus ticket from fourteen years ago and $200 in cash.”

Sid shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“That’s what we’d like to know. Did your daughter mention losing her purse?” she asked the mother.

Millie was a petite woman who looked as if she might blow away in a strong wind. The word mousy came to mind and, Halley noticed, Millie Granger was also clearly nervous. She was wearing a faded print apron. She kneaded the hem of it in her fingers, worrying at a hole in the fabric as she looked at her husband, as if fearful of what he might do.

Halley was wondering the same thing. Sid Granger’s jaw was set, his body practically trembling with anger.

“There must be some mistake,” Millie said in a small voice, her gaze still on her husband.

“You say you heard from your daughter last week?” Halley asked. Neither answered. “Is there a problem?” Clearly, there was, since Millie seemed to be waiting for her husband to say something.

“It’s a family matter,” Sid said through clenched teeth. “We don’t discuss family matters with—”

“She ran away fourteen years ago,” Millie blurted out, finally dragging her gaze from her husband. Sid shot her a lethal look.

Halley already knew from the letter Colton had received that running away had been Jessica’s plan. “Was there an argument?”

Sid Granger had his lips clamped shut. He was still glaring at his wife.

“We didn’t hear from her for a while,” Millie said timidly. “But then we got a letter from her.”

“So you’ve been in contact with her?” Halley asked. Again the Grangers exchanged a look. “You’ve talked to her?”

“She writes every year on her birthday, but there is never a return address and she mails the letters from different places. She doesn’t want us to know where she is.” Millie’s voice broke.

“It’s not us she is trying to get away from,” Sid bellowed. “It’s him!” He thrust a finger at Colton. “We lost

our daughter because of him!” He took a menacing step toward him. “I want this man out of my house. Now.”

“Let’s all settle down,” Halley said, giving Colton a warning look as she stepped between the two men.

“Jessica got away from him and I won’t have him—”

“You’re the reason she was leaving,” Colton snapped. “She would have done anything to get out of this house and away from you.”

“Maybe it would be better if you left,” Halley said, turning to glare at Colton. He was only making the situation worse.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see the letter from Jessica.”

Halley would have liked to haul him out of the house in handcuffs just as she’d warned him. “If we could all just calm down.”

“Not until that bastard is out of my house!”

“Sid, let the deputy tell us why she’s here,” Millie Granger said loudly, then quickly lowered her voice. “Please.” She kneaded again at the tear in her apron, her voice again as tiny as she was.

The tension in the room dropped a notch.

“Could we all sit down?” Halley asked.

Sid grudgingly took a chair, scowling the whole time at Colton, who sat down on one end of the couch, Halley on the other. She wondered what he’d done to Jessica that warranted this much hatred from the girl’s father. Was Colton right and it was just a father’s love of his only daughter? Or something more sinister on either of the two men’s parts?

“We need to be sure that Jessica is all right,” Halley said. “Finding her purse raises questions, as I’m sure you realize. Could I see the letters from your daughter?”

This time Millie didn’t look to her husband for guidance. She rose and, avoiding his gaze, went to a bedroom off the living room. She returned a few moments later with a small bundle of letters tied with a red ribbon.

She handed them to the deputy. As Halley undid the ribbon, she noted that there were over a dozen letters.

Before she could react, Colton stood and leaned over to snatch the top envelope from the pile.

Sid Granger shot out of his chair. Halley quickly took the letter back. But not before Colton had let out a cry that sounded almost like a sob.

“That isn’t Jessica’s handwriting,” he said, his voice breaking, as he snatched another envelope from her hand, opened it and pulled out the short letter. He looked devastated. “These letters aren’t from Jessica.”