Yet he knew he couldn’t just throw the book in the trash any more than he could forget. He left it where it was, on the top shelf for the time being. Everything was for the time being, he told himself as he looked around his room. What was he doing back here?

  Maybe more disconcerting was, what was he doing playing detective with Tilly Stafford? If not a recipe for disaster, he didn’t know what was.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TILLY HADN’T SLEPT well after her argument with Stuart. She knew she shouldn’t have gone over to his place in the mood she’d been in. Not that he wasn’t equally responsible for the way things had gotten out of control. Had he really told her to stay away from Cooper as well as stop trying to find out who’d shot Oakley?

  It’s my sister. As long as she was trying to find Oakley’s shooter, she didn’t worry constantly about whether her sister would wake up or not. Tilly just needed to feel like she was doing something to help.

  But she knew her butting into his investigation was only part of the problem. It wasn’t her interfering in the investigation that bothered Stuart as much as her investigating with Cooper.

  Stuart was jealous. Jealous of Cooper McKenna? Was he a complete fool? She and Cooper? Ridiculous. They could hardly stand each other. The only reason they were doing this together was that he was the one who’d found Oakley. He’d been there when she’d needed his help. No matter what Stuart said, she wasn’t going to stop looking into her sister’s shooting.

  But meeting Cooper for breakfast was more out of spite. They had no reason to hide. If Stuart didn’t like it, too bad. Nor was she going to stop looking for the shooter.

  Yesterday afternoon, she’d made a few calls. Her mother had a number for CH4 since they were the company who’d put in the methane well on the ranch. She’d used her “sweet” voice and within minutes had the name of the pilot of the blue-and-white CH4 Piper Super Cub.

  She could have gone to talk to Howie Gunderson alone, but she needed to see Cooper anyway. Also, if Howie’s passenger had been the one who’d shot Oakley, then it might be nice to have the cowboy along for backup.

  His pickup was already parked outside of the café when she arrived. It was early enough that there weren’t many people inside. She found Cooper sitting at a small corner table in the back. There were two menus and two cups on the table. His cup was half-full of coffee.

  He looked up and started to get to his feet, but she was too quick. She’d already pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. “You ordered yet?”

  “I was waiting for you.”

  She tried to tamp down her annoyance. It made it easier to remember why she didn’t like him when he wasn’t being so polite. The waitress arrived with a pot of coffee, filled her cup and asked if they needed a minute.

  “Chicken-fried steak, eggs medium, hash browns and whole wheat toast,” she said in answer. It was going to be a long day, and she wasn’t sure when she’d get to eat again. Also, she’d skipped supper last night. She’d lain in bed thinking about the big bowl of popcorn Stuart had made her and wishing she hadn’t stormed out of there so quickly.

  “I’ll take the same,” Cooper said, and handed the waitress the menus with his thanks as he made eye contact. The woman beamed, her cheeks reddening.

  Tilly wanted to groan. Not that it was anything new, the way women responded to Cooper. “I’ve been dating Stuart.” Why had she said that? She felt her own cheeks redden with embarrassment. It made her sound desperate that she felt she had to tell him she’d been dating someone. Not just someone. His best friend. After her argument with the sheriff last night, she wasn’t even sure it was true anymore. But, she told herself, she’d said it because she didn’t want Cooper to think she’d been keeping it from him.

  “Okay,” he said, showing no emotion.

  “I just thought you should know.”

  “Okay.” He looked confused, which only irritated her more.

  “It’s just that if we keep looking for my sister’s shooter together...”

  He seemed to be waiting to see where she was headed with that thought, as if almost daring her to finish it. If she saw even the hint of a grin, she swore she would dump his coffee over his head on her way to the door.

  “So what’s the name of the pilot we’re going to see?”

  * * *

  COOPER COULDN’T HELP being confused. Had Tilly thought hearing that she was dating his best friend would upset him? He and Tilly had been adversaries from as far back as he could remember. Even in kindergarten he remembered the two of them competing when it came to everything. Even coloring. She had seemed to think that she was the only one who could color inside the lines.

  He’d found himself mentally shaking his head, unsure why she had felt the need to tell him she’d been dating Stuart. Fortunately, he’d hidden his reaction. Tilly and Stuart? Sorry, but he couldn’t see it. Stuart was his best friend, but the sheriff was analytical, approaching everything in life with caution—just the opposite of Tilly. Also, Stuart lived by the letter of the law.

  Tilly was a free spirit, a wild young woman excited about life, willing to try anything, and while she had been able to color inside the lines in kindergarten, she didn’t approach living that way at all. Which was probably why Cooper had always been drawn to her, he realized.

  “Howie Gunderson,” Tilly said, keeping her voice down although there weren’t any patrons close by. He must have frowned as if he couldn’t remember what they’d been talking about, because she added, “That’s the name of the pilot. The plane is his, apparently, but he works pretty much full-time for CH4, flying their executives as well as geologists in and around the area.”

  “Do we know if he had a passenger with him that day?” Cooper asked.

  “Not yet. That’s why we’re going to talk to him.” She was all business again. When food came, she dug in.

  He couldn’t help but wonder why she seemed... What? Disappointed in his reaction about her and Stuart? How had she expected him to react? She’d said they were dating. He started to wonder exactly what that meant but stopped himself. None of his business. In fact, after talking to the pilot, he didn’t see any reason he and Tilly had to see each other again. He thought of it as fraternizing with the enemy. Wasn’t that the way Treyton would have put it, had he known?

  That was another problem with him and Tilly doing this together. It would be hard to keep it a secret. Especially after having breakfast together here in town. It would be impossible for word not to spread throughout the county by noon. This kind of news moved faster than a grass fire.

  His gaze went to Tilly. So why had she suggested meeting here? She wasn’t trying to make Stuart jealous, was she?

  “There’s something else,” she said between bites, as if just deciding to tell him. He braced himself. She and Stuart weren’t getting engaged, were they? The thought hit him hard, harder than he would have expected. He tried to imagine what would be worse. Pregnant?

  She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Stuart let it slip, so it’s just between you and me?” He nodded. She leaned toward him. A teasing pleasant scent crossed the table. Not perfume. Maybe her body wash. Maybe her shampoo? He breathed it in a little deeper. “Oakley was shot with a 270 rifle.”

  That took him by surprise, but no more than how relieved he was that she and Stuart weren’t engaged, let alone having a baby together. It would have just been wrong, not that he had a dog in the fight.

  *

  HOLDEN SAW THE girl’s face at the edge of the curtains as he drove up in front of the house and parked. All he got was a glimpse of large blue eyes, short choppy dark hair and a mouth set in a grim line. He hadn’t seen Holly Jo since she was born—the same day he made her mother the promise that he was now about to keep.

  As he exited his vehicle, he looked up to see if she was still peering out. The face was gone. By the time he reached the front door, it opened.

  An older woman stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. “You’re late.” He started to explain, but she cut him off as she yelled toward the stairway. “Holly Jo, get your scrawny butt down here. Now. Don’t make me come up there after you.”

  She turned back to him. “That’s her bag,” she said, pointing to the single small suitcase on the floor by the door. “She cut up most of her clothes with a pair of scissors, all except a pair of jeans and an old flannel shirt of her mother’s and what I could rescue before she ruined the lot.”

  “I’ll buy her clothing,” he said, wondering who this woman was to Holly Jo. He’d never asked if Holly Jo’s father had family. He knew her mother didn’t. He’d just assumed when her mother had agreed to Holden taking the girl that there wasn’t anyone else.

  “Are you her grandmother?”

  “Good Lord, no! I’m a neighbor. It’s been tough enough the few days I’ve had her. Well, she’ll be all yours now.” She crossed herself and turned to bark the girl’s name but stopped as Holly Jo came down the stairs.

  The girl was wearing a pair of too-short shorts, a tank top and flip-flops. Her expression was sullen and surly, reminding him of a junkyard dog that’d been put on a short chain. Her short dark choppy hair framed her face, making her blue eyes look huge when she wasn’t narrowing them.

  Holden reminded himself that she’d lost her father before she was born and now she’d lost her mother. She’d been apparently pawned off to a neighbor, and now she was being taken clearly against her will by an older man she didn’t know.

  “Hello, Holly Jo. I’m Holden McKenna. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I really doubt that,” she said as she shot her caretaker a sour look. “Can we please go?”

  He picked up her suitcase and motioned for her to lead the way. As an afterthought, he worried that might have been a mistake, letting her go to the truck by herself. What if she took off running? Would he be able to catch her? She was tall for her age, he thought, her tanned legs long. Her head up, back straight, there was defiance in her walk, but there was also something graceful about her as she climbed into his pickup.

  After putting her suitcase in the back, he slid behind the wheel. “You hungry?” She shook her head. “We could stop at a drive-through. Would you like that?” She shook her head again, then turned to look at him.

  “Didn’t she tell you? I’m vegan. I don’t eat that crap.”

  Holden wasn’t sure what vegan meant, but he suspected that meant that she didn’t eat the beef they raised on the ranch. Pick your battles, he told himself, as he started the engine and headed back toward the Powder River Valley.

  He told her a little about the ranch, but his new family member kept her face turned toward the side window away from him, showing no indication that she was listening. He finally gave up and just drove.

  The silent treatment didn’t bother him in the least. He just reminded himself to keep scissors away from her. It was clear from the odd angles of her hair that her clothing wasn’t the only thing she’d chopped.

  * * *

  HOWIE GUNDERSON HAD rented a place not far from the airstrip. The house was small and part of a larger ranch that had sold to a conglomerate from back East. The house was vacant since no one ever intended to live there again. Howie had somehow talked the organization into renting it to him while he was here working. The rest of the time, he lived in Billings with his family, flying home every few weeks or so, Tilly explained as she drove.

  When she’d suggested they take her truck again, she’d thought Cooper might put up an argument. He’d shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him. It surprised her. She’d thought he was one of those men who liked to control everything like her college boyfriend had. Brian couldn’t walk into the room without picking up the remote control—even if she’d been sitting there watching something.

  “Anyone else living here with Howie?” Cooper asked as the house appeared up the road ahead. He hadn’t spoken since they’d left the café. She suspected something was eating at him, but she didn’t ask, telling herself she didn’t care.

  Was it the news about her and Stuart? Probably not. She was mentally chastising herself for telling him. Cooper’s reaction had been even more embarrassing. He couldn’t have cared less, when all she was trying to do was let him know the lay of the land, so to speak. Transparency—wasn’t that a big thing nowadays?

  “I didn’t ask who all lived there.” She saw an SUV and a second vehicle parked in front of the house, a large pickup, and realized that was why he’d asked.

  After parking between the two vehicles, they both got out and walked up to the door. Cooper looked at her as if to ask if she wanted to be the one to knock. She felt herself flush. Was he insinuating that she was pushy? Worse, controlling? She shook her head and bit down on her lip to hold back what might come out of her mouth.

  The door opened almost immediately after his knock. No doubt the occupants had heard them drive up, although there was only one man standing in the doorway.

  “Howie Gunderson?” Cooper asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?”

  “You don’t look like cops,” Howie said, perusing them both before returning his attention to Cooper.

  “I’m Tilly Stafford and this is Cooper McKenna. We just want to ask if you might have seen something the day my sister was shot,” she said, tired of biting her lip. “Your plane was seen in the area.”

  The pilot nodded in understanding and waved them inside. “I have to leave soon for the airstrip, but can I get you some coffee, water?” They shook their heads.

  “Just information,” Cooper said. “Did you have a passenger with you that day?”

  “A geologist. Tick Whitaker. I think his name is actually Alfred, which could explain why he goes by Tick.” He smiled, offered them a seat and sat on the edge of a chair facing them.

  “What were you doing flying over the McKenna Ranch?” Cooper asked, making Tilly cringe. Could he sound any more accusing?

  “I’d just flown over a stretch of land Tick had wanted to see from the air on Stafford land and was turning to head back toward town and the airstrip when I saw what I thought was a cowboy on horseback come racing out of one of the ravines.”

  “Have you told the sheriff this?” Cooper asked.

  “I told the deputy who asked. He was riding so fast it caught my eye. Tick spotted another rider coming out of the ravine. He seemed to be chasing the first one,” Howie said, glancing at Cooper.

  “You did hear that the first rider was Oakley Stafford and that someone shot her,” Cooper said.

  “I did, but when I saw her, she seemed to be fine, so I figured she must have been shot either in the woods or when she came out of them onto the county road.”

  It was clear that Howie had heard who’d found Oakley. The pilot also must have gotten Cooper’s backstory, including the part about his former girlfriend Leann Hayes.

  “Why did you fly so low over my pickup on the county road?” Cooper asked.

  “I guess I was concerned,” he said. “And curious. I had no idea the rider was a woman. I had no idea who you were,” Howie said to Cooper.

  “So you didn’t contact the sheriff’s department?” Tilly asked.

  “I didn’t know for certain what was going on. I could see that she was apparently hurt, but I never would have guessed that she’d been shot. I made a big circle after I saw you, thinking I might come back and check, but then I saw the flashing lights coming up the road from farther downriver. Whatever was going on seemed to be covered. When I heard someone had been asking around about my plane, I assumed it was the sheriff. Figured he’d be talking to me about it. Sorry I can’t be of more help,” he said as he rose from the edge of the chair, “but I really have to get going.”

  Cooper rose as well. “You didn’t see the second rider again?”

  Howie shook his head. “Tick said he thought the rider turned south either toward the McKenna house or the Stafford Ranch. But I didn’t see him.”

  “But you think the rider was male,” Tilly said.

  The pilot chuckled. “Thought they both were. Assumptions, you know.”

  “Where can we find Tick Whitaker?” Cooper asked.

  “He’s staying at the hotel in town,” Howie said as he walked them both to the door.

  “Do you happen to have his cell number?”

  Howie hesitated only a moment before he went to find something to write on. A few moments later, he handed Cooper a piece of lined notepad paper with the word Tick and a number written on it. Cooper thanked him and asked to use his pen.

  Tilly watched him write something on the note, then pocket it and hand back the pen.

  As they stepped outside, she noticed that the other vehicle, the truck that had been parked next to them when they went inside, was now gone.

  It wasn’t until they were in her pickup that Cooper handed her the note with Tick’s number on it and a row of numbers and letters that appeared to be a license plate number—or the call number of a plane.

  She shot him a questioning look.

  “The license plate number of that large pickup that was parked outside the house when we got there,” he said as he leaned back, tilted his Stetson low over his eyes to shade them from the sun. “Maybe your boyfriend can find out who the rig belongs to.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TILLY SHOT A look over at Cooper as she drove him back to his pickup parked in front of the café. His comment about asking her “boyfriend” to run the license plate still annoyed her. Did he have a problem with her dating Stuart? Cooper didn’t get a say as to who she dated. It wasn’t like he’d ever asked her out.

  The thought made her groan inwardly. What was it about the cowboy that had always set her off? She glanced at him again. He acted like he couldn’t care less about anything, maybe especially her. Even when she beat him at some competition, he would just shrug and say, “Nice job.” Nice job? The other contestants she had beaten—even some of the women—stomped off, wanted to argue about the outcome or gave her grudging looks. Cooper seemed to do everything he could to beat her, but if he lost to her, he always acted like he didn’t care.

 

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