Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [6]
"If you must know," she said, "the diamond got caught in my glove, so I took it off to free it and must have laid it down."
His brows shot up again.
Why didn't she just shut up? "I was in a hurry this morning. Not that it's any of your business."
"You're right," he agreed. "Must be a big diamond to get stuck in a glove." Not like the small chip he'd been able to afford for her, his tone said.
"Look, as far as I'm concerned, you and I have nothing to say to each other."
"Sorry, didn't mean to pry into your personal life." A muscle bunched in his jaw and he took on that all-business marshal look again. "I'd appreciate it if you and Warren wouldn't mention what you found in the well to anyone. I know it's going to get out, but I'd like to try to keep a lid on it as long as we can."
He had to be joking. The marshal's office dispatcher was the worst gossip in the canyon.
"Anything else?" she asked pointedly as his hand remained on the door.
His gaze softened again and she felt her heart do that pitter-patter thing it hadn't done since Hud.
"It's good seeing you again, Dana," he said.
"I wish I could say the same, Hud."
His lips turned up in a rueful smile as she jerked hard on the door, forcing him to relinquish his hold. If only she could free herself as easily.
The pickup door slammed hard. Warren got in and started the engine without a word. She knew he'd heard her lie about being engaged, but Warren was too smart to call her on it.
As sun streamed into the cab, Warren swung the pickup around. Dana rolled down her window, flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with the warmth of the sun or the January Thaw. She could see the ranch house down the hillside. Feel the rattle of the tires over the rough road, hear the wind in the pines.
She promised herself she wouldn't do it even as she reached out, her fingers trembling, and adjusted the side mirror to look back.
Hud was still standing where she'd left him, looking after them.
Happy birthday.
Chapter Two
Well, that had gone better than he'd expected, Hud thought with his usual self-deprecating sarcasm.
She was engaged to Lanny Rankin?
What did you expect? It's been years. I'm surprised she isn't married by now. But Lanny Rankin?
He watched the pickup disappear over the hill, listening until the sound of the engine died away and all he could hear was the wind again.
Yeah, why isn't she married?
Lanny Rankin had gone after Dana before Hud had even driven out past the city limit sign. He'd had five years. So why weren't the two of them married?
He felt a glimmer of hope.
Was it possible Dana was dragging her feet because she was still in love with him—not Lanny Rankin?
And why wasn't she wearing her ring? Maybe she didn't even have one. Maybe she wasn't engaged—at least not officially.
Maybe you're clutching at straws.
Maybe, but his instincts told him that if she was going to marry Lanny, she would have by now.
A half mile down the hillside, he could see Warren's pickup stop in a cloud of dust. Hud watched Dana get out. She was still beautiful. Still prickly as a porcupine. Still strong and determined. Still wishing him dead.
He couldn't blame her for that, though.
He had a terrible thought. What if she married Lanny now just out of spite?
And what was this about selling the ranch? The old Dana Cardwell he knew would never put the ranch up for sale. Was she thinking about leaving after it sold? Worse, after she married Lanny?
She disappeared into the ranch house. This place was her heart. She'd always said she would die here and be buried up on the hill with the rest of her mother's family, the Justices.
He'd loved that about her, her pride in her family's past, her determination to give that lifestyle to her children—to their children.
Hud felt that gut-deep ache of regret. God, how he hated what he'd done to her. What he'd done to himself. It didn't help that he'd spent the past five years trying to make sense of it.
Water under the bridge,