In Deep Trouble, page 8
“There might be boot prints,” Andy said.
“Wouldn’t they be the same as the ones you already found?” Cecily asked.
“If they are, that strengthens the case. Plus, the ones we found—that Frank found—weren’t clear. We might find something better here,” Andy said.
Frank and Andy got out of the SUV, inspected the ground and the gate for a moment, then returned. “Nothing,” Andy said.
Bryce waited until Andy drove through, then closed the gate and got into the car.
“Seems like a pain,” Andy said. “Open, close, open, close.”
“Yeah, but there aren’t any stoplights,” Frank said. They bounced around awhile longer, until Frank said, “Stop here. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“I’ll wait in the car.” Cecily turned to Bryce. “You’ve already seen this, haven’t you?”
Did Bryce detect a hint of apology in the way she looked at him? Maybe. Maybe not. “No,” he said. “I’d like to see it for myself.”
Her forehead creased. “A gross dead steer? You do?”
Did she want him to wait in the car? Or think he was crazy? Damn women, anyway.
“You want me to stay here?” he managed to ask.
“If you want to,” she said.
What did that mean?
“We’ve got it covered,” Frank said. “Shouldn’t take long.”
Didn’t answer his question, but solved his problem. He guessed. Frank and Andy took off, and Bryce stared out the window for a moment.
Say something. Anything. Just start talking.
He figured he might as well start with what Cecily wanted to hear. See where it led. “Grady’s doing all right.”
Her eyes lit up. Her smile widened. For a minute, he thought she might clap her hands like a three-year-old.
“I’m so glad to hear it coming from you, since you’ve seen the most of him. Is he doing any better with the horses?”
Bryce grabbed his ponytail and bounced his fingers from band to band.
“That bad?” she said.
“Huh?”
“When you do that bass guitar thing with your hair, I know you’re either nervous or ... stretching the truth.”
“He’s not comfortable around them, but I’m working on it. We don’t have to turn him into a cowhand, do we? There’s plenty of non-horse things to do on the ranch, and he’d still learn responsibility and pick up skills. Derek agreed.”
He waited out her silence while he watched the gears grinding in her brain. So, Derek hadn’t mentioned it to her.
“You’re right. I was transferring what I loved to do on the ranch—and the way Lemuel connected with the horses. My program isn’t designed to be equine therapy. That requires a whole different skill set, and trained therapists.”
“I get it.” Bryce took a breath. He wasn’t sure which of his brains was in charge, but he took her hand. “Can we talk about something else?”
She cocked her head. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
He glanced out the front windshield and saw Frank and Andy still making their way across the pasture toward the steer. Heat crept up his neck. “Nothing.”
Confusion filled her eyes. “Something? Nothing? What do you want?”
“This.” Heart pounding, he scooted across the seat until he was close enough to brush his lips against hers. Would she draw back? Push him away? Why did he feel like this was his first kiss?
Because it’s your first kiss with Cecily.
He felt the tiniest jerk as she startled—but only for a split second. She scooted closer.
He inhaled her scent. The fruity lip gloss. The floral, woodsy aroma of her perfume. Something citrus in her hair. He dared to tease the seam of her lips with his tongue. Soft lips. A tropical taste.
She opened to him—just a fraction. Gently, he coaxed her tongue with his. Minty. She still didn’t pull away. Her free hand—because he wasn’t going to let go of the one he held—wrapped around the back of his neck. Drew him closer. Adjusted the angle of contact.
Her tongue darted deeper, sliding along his. He caressed her between her shoulder blades. Down her spine. He swallowed the sigh that escaped her lips.
A warning niggle rippled up from the farthest, deepest part of his brain. A flicker of motion, a murmur of voices. He released Cecily and slid to his side of the seat. Told that insisting part of him to chill.
Cecily ducked her head, avoiding Bryce’s eyes. He’d yanked away in the middle of one of the sweetest, most tender kisses she’d ever had. Then she heard the voices. Andy and Frank were coming back. She reached over and gave Bryce’s hand a quick squeeze, then hopped out of the SUV and intercepted the men. “You find anything?”
“Maggots,” Frank said.
“Duh,” she said. “Anything useful?”
“’Fraid not.” Andy stowed his kit in the back of the RAV4, then got behind the wheel. “Wish I could pull some fancy detecting out of my hat, but we’ve got nothing but those boot prints. The odds favor the wearer of those boots killed the steer, but it’s not conclusive.”
“Good enough for me,” Bryce said.
“You’re not a judge,” Andy said. “There was a lot of blood, which was to be expected. If there’s any of the killer’s blood intermingled, we’d have to test the entire steer, and that’s not going to happen.”
“You do have the blood from the other site, right?” Cecily climbed into the car and buckled her seatbelt.
“Yes, and once we know whether it’s even human, DNA tests would take three forevers and you’d have to send them to a private lab and foot the bill. Then, if—and it’s a big if—we get a hit in CODIS, we’d know who was in your pasture. It still won’t hold up that he killed your steer.”
“Would for me,” Bryce muttered.
“You’re not talking vigilante justice, I hope,” Andy said. “If so, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Hear what?” Frank said.
Andy started the engine. “You should report this to the branding inspector. More their line of work.”
“We can let Derek know,” Cecily said.
They bumped their way across the pastures back to the ranch house in silence. Frank and Andy went inside to report their findings—or lack thereof—to Derek. Bryce hesitated, gave her a look combining questions, embarrassment, and hope.
“It’s about time,” she said. She smiled and headed toward the paddock. “I’m going to say hi to Ginger.”
As she hoped, Bryce—after a quick glance toward the house—followed. She detoured to the barn, to the little fridge in the feed room, and snagged some carrot chunks. Bryce didn’t follow this time. Damn him. The privacy of the barn would be a perfect place to pick up where they’d left off. With a sigh, she ambled to the paddock. Bryce stood there, one foot on the bottom rail, his arms folded on the top one. Ginger had already come to say hello.
Bryce moved aside at her approach, as if to relinquish his access to the mare. As if he didn’t think Ginger would come to her? Or wanting to put distance between himself and her?
Whatever. They’d crossed a line in Andy’s SUV, and if Bryce was pretending it hadn’t happened, then she’d chalk it up to an impulsive one-off that he wished he could take back.
If that were the case, he’d have gone into the house. Or home. Since he was waiting for her, she ignored Ginger and took a spot next to Bryce. Not touching, but close enough to smell his unique scent. He wasn’t one for aftershave, or fancy hair products, or expensive body washes. He smelled like Ivory soap and Bryce—a mixture of horse, hay, and the outdoors.
Ginger nickered and shoved her head over the rail, waiting for her handout. Cecily palmed a carrot piece. “Here you go, you sweet thing.”
“You okay with it?” Bryce asked.
The kiss? Typical Bryce. When he did say something, it was straight to the point.
“Yes,” she said. He couldn’t tell?
Ginger finished her carrot and lowered her head between the two of them. “Are you playing chaperone, girl? Or doubling the odds of getting another handout?” Cecily gave her another chunk of carrot.
“She could use some exercise,” Bryce said. “A nice walk would do her old joints some good.”
“Are you inviting me to come along?” Cecily asked. Bryce’s straight and to the point didn’t always include the details.
“If you want to. Twenty-thirty minutes.”
She gave Ginger the last piece of carrot and rubbed her between the ears. “What do you say, girl? Want to take a stroll around the ranch?”
Ginger nickered as if she understood. Maybe she did. “I’ll get a lead rope.” Cecily headed to the barn.
She thought about suggesting this as a task for Grady, but decided it might be wiser to leave him out of conversations for a while.
She clipped the lead to Ginger’s halter and Bryce opened the paddock gate. The other horses looked up expectantly, but he told them it was Ginger’s turn. “You’ve all had your workouts today. Enjoy some down time.”
One of them on each side of Ginger, Cecily and Bryce strolled around the barn, down the ranch road toward the pond.
“She’s slowing down.” Cecily knew aging was inevitable, and Ginger had led a long and productive life. But she couldn’t help the way her voice cracked. She took a calming breath. “You have her on senior feed and supplements, right?”
Bryce flashed her a look that said You think I don’t know my job? but his expression melted into one more sympathetic, and he said, “Yes. And she’s blanketed at night.” He stopped and rubbed Ginger’s muzzle, but his eyes were on Cecily. “It’s good you’re here.”
“You’re keeping her comfortable. Not much else you can do. I understand.” She buried her face in Ginger’s mane. “I love you, baby.”
“Hey, it’s not time for goodbye,” Bryce said. “She’s got plenty of life left in her. She perks up when you come by, which is good for her.”
“I’ll try to make it more often.” They’d reached the pond and Ginger lowered her head for a drink. That it was difficult for her was obvious, and it tore at Cecily’s heart.
Needing to change the subject, she said, “What are your theories of who killed the steer? It was deep into Triple-D land, so it had to be someone who knows his way around. A local? Do you know anyone with a grudge against Derek? Maybe an extra hand he hired? Hard to think of it as random.”
Bryce took the lead from Cecily and turned Ginger toward the house. “Been thinking about it. The pasture wasn’t far from McMillan’s old place. The route Frank said the guy took would be an easy way to get from there to here.”
“So maybe the person thought he was killing one of Kenny McMillan’s animals.”
“Can see more people having a grudge against McMillan than Derek,” Bryce said.
She thought it through. “Derek hasn’t retagged Kenny’s herd yet, has he?”
“Nope. Given there’s no McMillan Ranch, it wasn’t a priority. Not like he could accuse us of rustling them.”
Cecily mulled that over. “So if this creep thought he was killing one of Kenny’s steers, he was going by where it was, not how it was tagged.”
“Can’t wrap my head around that. Seems to me he came in, whether he thought he was on McMillan’s land or ours, and killed a handy steer. Might not know what the tags mean.”
“Why kill it at all?”
“We knew that, we might know who to look for.”
“Guess there’s not much we can do,” Cecily said.
Strolling in a comfortable silence, they rounded the last turn before the barn. Bryce led Ginger to a small stand of trees and looped the lead over a shrub.
“What’s over here?” Cecily asked.
“Nothing,” Bryce said in the same tone he’d used right before he’d kissed her. She gazed into his eyes. Same expression there, too. Soft. Warm. The late afternoon sun haloed his face.
She took both his hands in hers. No fidgeting with his ponytail this time. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear you say it.”
He ducked his head. “I—” He lifted his gaze. “I want to kiss you.”
“I’d like that.” She closed the distance between them, rested her hands on his shoulders. Leaned in, lips parted.
Bryce pressed his hands against the small of her back, drawing her against him. He covered her mouth with his. Unlike the first, there was nothing tentative in this kiss. His lips were firm against hers. His tongue probed. Explored. Danced. She draped her arms over his back, pressing closer. Tighter. Her breasts tingled. Sensations shot downward, heat pooling between her thighs. Bryce’s hands moved lower, cupping her bottom. Not breaking the kiss, she wriggled against his hardness.
She reveled in the myriad sensations of a single kiss. The scent of him. Musky and masculine. The taste of him. A hint of coffee. The way his tongue slid along hers. Hot and wet. The way hers found his teeth. Hard and slick. The feel of his stubble-covered jaw against her cheek. Rough and scratchy.
The nudge at her butt. No, that wasn’t Bryce. Smiling through the kiss, she murmured, “I think someone’s jealous.”
A snort and a head shake brought them out of the moment.
“Ginger, next time, I’m tying you up,” Bryce said. “Tight.”
Next time. The words lifted Cecily’s heart.
Chapter 13
So much for moving on, Bryce thought. But Cecily had responded. With passion. Grateful the walk to the barn would, he hoped, get rid of any evidence of his reaction to their shared moment—because that’s all it was at this stage—he took deep breaths, inhaling Cecily’s scent even over that of the mare who shuffled along between them.
Was he supposed to say something now? She seemed to like it if he talked, but what was he supposed to say? Talking to fill dead air didn’t make sense.
You talk to the animals. All the time. Why can’t you talk to a woman?
Okay, not a woman, as in a female person or a female friend, but a woman he cared about. Was it harder with Cecily because the kiss had shifted things? She wasn’t a ranch colleague, or a watch a movie together friend anymore.
He had no answer. Other than when he was interested in a woman, his brain froze, and nothing came out of his mouth. Or if it did, it was something lame. Or something that made things worse.
Maybe she’d like it if he talked about Grady again.
“Trying to work Grady up to walking Ginger solo like this. He acted like it was a grizzly on the lead. Might help if you came by, walked along with him a few times. Until he’s comfortable.”
Her lips curved upward. “I’m on first shift this rotation, so I can be here after work while there’s still enough daylight.”
He nodded. Caught her expectant glance. Right. She liked to hear everything. Out loud. “Good.”
“I can’t make it every day. Would three times a week be all right?”
“Yep.”
They were at the barn now, and Cecily walked Ginger to her stall. After removing the mare’s halter, she said, “I’ll give her a quick brush before I have to go, but I want to check in with Derek.”
Bryce glanced toward the house, noting Andy’s RAV4 was gone. After what had transpired, he didn’t think Andy was in the picture. That didn’t mean he wasn’t waiting in the wings. Bryce toyed with his ponytail as he followed Cecily across the yard and into the house to shed their boots.
Derek wasn’t in the kitchen. Bryce thought about a cup of coffee, or even water, but he didn’t want to lose the lingering taste of Cecily’s kiss.
“Derek?” Cecily called. “We’re back.”
Bryce headed for Derek’s office, the most logical place to find him this time of day. The door was open and Derek sat at his desk, frowning at his computer monitor. His fingers drummed the mouse.
Bryce waited in the doorway, but Cecily breezed right in. Derek shifted his attention to her. “Ginger all right?” he asked.
“The walk did her good,” Cecily said. “What’s with the grumpy face?”
“Not grumpy. Worried. Confused,” Derek said. “Andy stopped by the Sheriff’s Department.”
“Yes, he said he’d have them test to see if the blood we found was human. Did he get results already?”
“I don’t know.” Derek shoved the mouse aside. “There’s another dead steer.”
Bryce cursed under his breath and approached the desk. “Where?”
“Another one of ours?” Cecily gripped Bryce’s hand.
“No, out at the Randall spread.”
Cecily gave Bryce’s hand a quick squeeze and moved toward the desk. “Are you sure it was killed the same way? By an intruder? Maybe a mountain lion got it. There’ve been reports.”
Derek shoved away from the desk. “According to Randall, it was killed by a human. Hacked up, the way mine was.”
“Does he know when it happened?” Cecily asked. “Before ours, or after?”
“He said the scavengers had worked it over good, so maybe before.”
“Sounds to me like someone’s got it in for ranchers,” Bryce said. “If it was just you, why target another spread?”
“Did Randall find any evidence? Like we found boot prints?” Cecily asked.
Derek frowned. “You think there’s more than one person sneaking onto ranch property and killing one steer?”
“Could be a group,” Bryce said. “One idea, one reason, but several people carrying it out.”
Cecily flopped onto the couch. “Did you call Andy?”
“Randall said he reported it to the Sheriff’s Office. I assume the information will get where it needs to go.”
“What you said—” Bryce ran everything through his head “—about killing a single steer. Maybe whoever it is wants to prove he can.”
“Or it’s a warning,” Derek said. “Proving he can get onto a ranch undetected. What’s to stop him from coming back and doing something more nefarious?”
“Nefarious.” Back to ten-dollar words, Bryce noted. D-Man was upset. Which was reasonable.
