Sheriff to the Rescue
Two years after Jessica Fleming’s husband died in a car accident, she’s discovered new evidence that might prove his death was intentional. Despite the heartache of reliving the tragedy, Jessica needs to know the truth—for herself and her five-year-old son. To get to the bottom of it, she’s relying on Sheriff Holden Granger.
Still grieving the loss of his wife, Holden agrees to handle the investigation personally. But when their relationship begins to extend beyond the case, Jessica is confronted with feelings she thought were long buried—and clearly so is Holden. Can solving her husband’s murder lead to a second chance at love?
“Your mother and I want to go for a ride. Will you ride with me on Blackie? I promise you’ll be safe.”
“Where will I sit?”
“Right in front of me.”
It took at least a half a minute before he said, “Okay.”
Victory! A small one, but a victory nevertheless. They were making progress.
After Holden’s gaze connected with Jessica’s, he got out of the truck and opened the trailer for her while he went in the barn for Blackie. Chase stayed by her as he brought his horse out.
“He’s huge!”
“He needs to be in order to hold both of us.” Holden mounted him. “Come on up.”
Before Chase could make up his mind, Holden caught him and helped him settle in. “See how easy that was? You just lean back against me and we’ll start walking. You can’t fall because I’ve got you.”
Dear Reader,
The idea for Home on the Ranch: Wyoming Sheriff came to me in the most unexpected way. One of my married sons is a master mechanic. He told me he’d just escaped a harrowing situation. It seems a truck that he’d put on a hoist so he could work underneath it literally broke in half. The whole back end crashed to the cement where he’d been standing only seconds before. Clearly he would have been killed. An investigation discovered that the owner had loaded the bed too heavily and the frame wasn’t built to handle the weight. I shivered over that accident.
It got me thinking about the safety of the world of the mechanic. The trust between him and the client is imperative. But what if one or the other has evil intentions? Before I knew it, I’d come up with a story about a widow who is investigating the death of her mechanic husband. You’ll have to read what happens when she seeks out the sheriff.
Enjoy!
Rebecca Winters
HOME ON THE RANCH
WYOMING SHERIFF
Rebecca Winters
Rebecca Winters, whose family of four children has now swelled to include five beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. Living near canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favorite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and church.
Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to email her, please visit her website, rebeccawinters.net.
Books by Rebecca Winters
Harlequin Western Romance
Wind River Cowboys
The Right Cowboy
Stranded with the Rancher
Sapphire Mountain Cowboys
A Valentine for the Cowboy
Made for the Rancher
Cowboy Doctor
Roping Her Christmas Cowboy
Lone Star Lawmen
The Texas Ranger’s Bride
The Texas Ranger’s Nanny
The Texas Ranger’s Family
Her Texas Ranger Hero
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my brilliant, wonderful, third-born son, who brings joy to the lives of our family with his happy disposition and can put a car back together better than anyone you’ve ever seen. Ask his wife, who never worries about them getting stranded in their Jeep in the backcountry of Moab, Utah. She knows he’s a genius who will always bring them home.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Excerpt from Home on the Ranch: Texas Wedding by Sasha Summers
Chapter 1
The beautiful Thursday morning beckoned to Jessica Fleming. She walked out the back of the ranch house to the barn with more energy than usual. After deciding to ride bareback, she took her deceased husband’s buckskin for a ride around the fenced-in pasture while her five-year-old son watched. Her own horse she’d had to put down a year ago because of illness.
“Bucky is frisky today, Mom!”
“He sure is. It must be the effect of the sun after yesterday’s rainstorm. I bet he’s hungry. Would you like to help me feed him?”
“No. I’ll put water in the bucket.” He’d taken on that job in addition to filling the hay net in the barn. She left the door open. That way Bucky could come and go from the pasture at will.
Chase’s answer was always the same and discouraged her. He was afraid of horses. Not even her husband, Trent, who’d once been a terrific bull rider, could get him to ride on one. Neither of them could understand his fear, but there it was.
Since her husband’s death two years ago, she’d ridden or exercised Bucky every day in the morning. Chase usually played near the barn.
At Christmas she’d bought Chase a Big League Blaster Gun because he’d begged for it. It had come with twelve foam darts. He’d lost three of them and could shoot it only out here using the fencing for a target. Secretly she’d be glad when he’d lost all the darts.
After a good run, she dismounted. “See you tonight, Bucky.”
She patted his rump and called to Chase. “Want to come and help me clean the garage?”
“I bet there’s a lot of good stuff!”
“I know there is.” It was all getting thrown out.
They worked until lunch, then she drove her son to afternoon kindergarten at Gannett Peak Elementary School in the town of Whitebark, Wyoming.
“See you later, honey.” Once she saw him run onto the playground with the other kids, she returned to the ranch house to finish working on the garage. With summer almost here, she had to make room for Chase’s bike and plastic swimming pool, among other things. She also needed to buy a new car badly and had decided to get a Toyota.
Memorial Day would be on Monday and school would be out for the summer, making it a long weekend. Today was Thursday, her day off from the hair salon her mother owned. Jessica needed to make the most of her free time. Once she’d loaded the boxes of things she’d gone through to discard and take to the dump, she should be back in time to pick up Chase from school.
After Trent’s death, the two-car garage had become a storeroom that needed to be cleaned out completely. Jessica could hardly park their truck inside.
In the beginning she hadn’t been able to throw anything away because most of it had belonged to her mechanic husband. But now it had to be done. Already she’d had a garage sale and had sold his ski equipment, snowshoes and trail bike.
The big items like the truck and Trent’s tools needed to go next. She’d driven over to the auto dealers
hip yesterday where he’d started working soon after graduating from high school. A couple of the guys like Bryan and Eddie who’d been his friends had shown interest in buying both, but were too busy to make an offer right then. She said she’d be back.
Jessica had taken Chase with her. He loved to watch what went on at the shop. Everyone there made a fuss over him that warmed her heart. When her son was born, his hair had come in a light blond like Jessica’s. But in time it had turned dark blond like his dad’s.
Chase had also inherited his father’s lean build and happy smile. All the guys commented on the resemblance. Jessica had hoped to get pregnant again soon so he’d have a brother or sister, but it didn’t happen. After undergoing several tests, she’d learned her body was going through early menopause and she’d never conceive again. That was a revelation she was still dealing with and had made their son Chase a thousand times more precious to both of them.
Remembering her husband caused her to take an extra breath. Keep working, Jessica.
Almost done, she backed up the truck and started loading the last few boxes she’d gone through onto the bed. She couldn’t wait to get busy with the broom. As she looked around, she saw one more carton in the corner partially hidden by the lawn mower and walked over to get it. If it held Christmas decorations, it was in the wrong place. Curious to see what was inside, Jessica opened it.
A gasp escaped her lips when she saw four ball joints. She let go of the box and jumped to her feet as if she’d been burned.
Two years ago Trent had been test-driving her car in the rain in the early hours of the morning and had gone off the road into a ditch. The car had turned over on top of him and he’d been killed. Chase was the only reason she’d managed to get through her grief.
The police investigation had determined that a loose ball joint had been the reason for the accident. The whole wheel had fallen off because the tie rod, steering rod and the axle had snapped, as well.
When she’d told Trent her car was having problems, he’d gone out to take a look. After checking it, he told her he was going to replace all four ball joints to keep her safe and would do it after work. Around seven that evening she drove the truck to the dealership with Chase to take her husband a hamburger and fries for dinner while he worked.
They waited for Trent, who finally lowered the car from the lift and drove it out to the enclosed parking area. He was going to leave it there overnight and take it for a test run in the morning. She remembered him putting some things in the back of the truck before he closed up and they went home.
Was this the box he’d brought with them that night along with his tools?
She knelt down and examined the ball joints. All four were worn and loose. These had to be the ones he’d taken off her car. There’d be no reason for them to be in the garage otherwise. It meant he’d used the four new ball joints from this box he’d purchased from the dealership’s parts department to put on her car.
But if Trent had installed all four new ones, why did the police say that her car had a loose ball joint and it had caused the fatal crash that had left her traumatized, and Chase without a father? It didn’t make sense when she was staring at the four worn ones he’d removed. Or had this box been sitting in the garage a lot longer than two years ago...?
While she was trying to figure it out, a feeling of unease enveloped her. She knew something wasn’t right. By this time it was getting too late to go to the dump, but it didn’t matter. She left the box in the garage.
After closing the tailgate, she climbed in the truck and used the remote to close the garage door before she took off. Once she’d picked up Chase from school, she drove to Style Clips. All the way there, her heart pounded unmercifully with her thoughts growing darker by the second.
She gave her mom a quick phone call to let her know that she was coming. After letting herself in the back door of the four-chair shop with her key, she unlocked another door and hurried up the stairs to the apartment above. Chase led the way.
“Nana?”
“Mom?”
“Well, hi!” A smile broke out on her mother’s face. She’d just turned fifty-two, but didn’t look it. “Don’t those new jeans and emoji shirt look adorable on you!”
“Hi, Nana!” Chase’s brown eyes lit up and he ran to her.
She gave him a kiss. “Come in the kitchen and tell me about school. I just made some doughnuts for the party at the church on Saturday. Ray’s taking me. But you can put some sprinkles on top of the icing and have one.”
“Yum!”
Jessica went to the fridge to pour him a glass of milk, then put the carton away. Chase scrambled over to the kitchen table where a batch of doughnuts was waiting for toppings. Her mother put one on a plate for him, then walked over to the counter. She shot her a glance out of eyes as green as Jessica’s.
“What’s going on?” she asked in a low voice. “I thought this was your day to finish cleaning the garage and didn’t expect to see you. I can tell something’s wrong.”
“It’s about Trent’s accident.”
Her mother frowned. “What do you mean?”
While Chase was still occupied, Jessica told her about the box of four worn ball joints she’d found in a corner of the garage.
“The night before the accident, I was there in the bay when Trent changed all of them and drove my car out to the lot for the night. He’d said he would take a test run in the morning like he always did.
“As you know, I watched him finish up. If he hadn’t done the whole job, he would have told me. But the police said it was a loose ball joint that caused the car to overturn. When I questioned the investigating officer about what they’d found, he said I must have misunderstood because Trent obviously hadn’t changed all of them.
“I was so devastated he’d been killed, I wasn’t thinking clearly and decided that had to have been the case. For two years I haven’t thought about it. But just now I found a box with four worn, loose ball joints. Those have to be the ones he took off and brought home. So how do you explain that?”
“I don’t know, honey. For one thing, why didn’t he just throw them away at work?”
“Trent often brought stuff home with the idea of using it. In fact, you should see the boxes of junk I’m taking to the dump.”
Her mother’s happy expression had turned to one of alarm. “Have you told anyone else about this?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“No. I came straight here.”
“Where’s the box?”
“I left it in the garage. Mom—I don’t like what I’m thinking.”
“You’re not the only one. You need to go to the police and talk to the investigating officer.”
“I don’t remember who it was.”
“Ask to speak to the police chief first.”
“I will, but I’m doing a color on Rachel Bates in the morning. Her appointments are set in stone. Following her, Seth Lunt will be in for a haircut.” She’d appreciated that three of the guys from the dealership had come in from time to time for a trim, but only Seth came anymore.
Lines had marred her mother’s features. “I’ll take over for you. Tell the chief what you’ve discovered. Show him the box. I’d like an explanation myself. Bring Chase over here on your way. I’ll put him to work sweeping the floor of the shop until you get back. He loves that job.”
“You think there’s something wrong, too.”
“Yes, however I suppose there could be a logical explanation we haven’t thought of.”
Jessica nodded. “Maybe Trent decided not to replace one of them after all, but then why would he say that he did?”
Her mom looked as perplexed as she felt. “Did you actually watch him replace every one of them?”
“No. I was watching Chase and he kept wanting to run around. But we were right there the whole time. I’m just not sure
of anything now. What if someone tampered with my car after Trent put it out in the lot?”
They stared at each other as unspoken messages flashed between them. “You need to look into it immediately.”
“I agree.” Out of earshot of Chase, she called the police station and asked to speak to the police chief to make an appointment.
“Sorry. Sheriff Granger won’t be back until Tuesday. Come in to the station then.”
“All right. Thank you.” She hung up disappointed, but there wasn’t anything else to do. She turned to her mother and hugged her hard. “The sheriff won’t be in until Tuesday so I’ll have to wait. Thank you for encouraging me and letting me know I’m not crazy. Thank you for everything. I love you.”
The first year after Trent’s death had come close to destroying her. She had adored her husband and her anguish over knowing she could never have another baby made her feel as if she’d suffered two deaths. Her specialist did say that in some cases, an early menopause diagnosis didn’t mean never. Conception could happen, but it was in the almost miraculous category.
This last year had been a little better and Chase was her everything. She was starting to see light at the end of the tunnel, but the sight of those ball joints had thrown her back to the past in a horrible way.
“Mom?” came her son’s voice.
She turned to him. His mouth was covered in icing and sprinkles. “I sprinkled some doughnuts for you and Nana.”
“Thank you, darling.”
* * *
Early Friday morning, Riverside Cemetery in Cody, Wyoming, was already filling with flowers for Memorial Day on Monday, but the main press of visitors wouldn’t be felt until the actual day.
Thirty-year-old Holden Granger had been vacationing in Cody with his parents and siblings for the last week. He’d been born and raised here where he’d imagined living for the rest of his life. But when his wife, Cynthia, had died of lymphoma three years ago, his entire world had changed forever.
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