Nodding for Taylor to follow him, he offhandedly said, “Morning, Nancy,” before starting down the hallway. Taylor noticed there was no return greeting. Her mother had turned back to face the windows.
Once Will had unlocked the door, Taylor stepped inside and waited for him to retrieve the key from one of the locked drawers.
“Thank you,” she said when he handed it to her across the desk. “I’ll return it as soon as I get back.”
“Fine.” He plopped into the leather chair appearing distracted. Taylor closed the door behind her and returned to her mother.
“Where’s Chelsea? Will you be all right while I’m gone?”
“I’ll be fine. Chelsea had to run to town for something but she’ll be back any time now.” Nancy lowered her voice. “I’ll look forward to hearing if you discover anything at Jamie’s cabin.”
Taylor ran up to her room and tugged on her cowboy boots and jammed the new cowboy hat on her head. She exited the house wishing she didn’t have to keep her investigation a secret from Will, but he’d already told Taylor he believed there was no mistake in the coroner’s final determination regarding Jamie’s death. And it was apparent he and her mother were not getting along. There was no point in making the rift between the two of them deeper.
A small horse of sturdy build, chestnut in color with a pure white mane and tail was tied to the hitching post outside the barn and standing quietly when Taylor got there. Noting she was a mare, Taylor patted her rump and moved her hand over her back to her withers and finally up to her head. “What a pretty girl you are,” Taylor praised, rubbing the mare’s nose. “What’s your name?”
Charlie wasn’t anywhere around, but the sound of jangling spurs from inside the barn caught her attention. Maybe it was Brett. Anxious to see him, she turned and held her breath, only to be disappointed when Dash Bullion approached. In the same instant, she remembered Brett didn’t wear spurs because of his horse’s aversion to them.
“Charlie was going to saddle a horse for me, but I don’t see him around,” she said. “Do you know if this mare is for me?”
“Yep.”
“She’s beautiful. What breed is she?”
“Haflinger.”
“What’s her name?”
“Dusty.”
“It suits her well.” Taylor smiled but received nothing in return from the crabby ranch hand. Instead of wasting time trying to chitchat with a stump, she unhitched Dusty and stuck her foot in the stirrup and threw her weight into the saddle. It felt made for her. When she observed the leather closely, she realized it was her saddle—the one Daddy had bought for her so many years ago.
Without even saying thanks to Dash, Taylor turned the Haflinger in a semi-circle and walked her behind the barn and across the pasture, allowing time for her and the animal to become acquainted. There was another route near the front gate that cars could take to get to the cabin, but Taylor had looked forward to riding a horse again after so many years. Just like riding a bike, she hadn’t forgotten the leg cues. Dusty seemed to be a solid, neck-reined horse with good manners.
Soon, Taylor was on the trail leading to the back forty. The sun gliding across the treetops made the stand of aspens they walked past a trembling field of green, as the leaves would not shimmer golden until the fall. Ahead was the silvery gold of the willows, the russet and bronze of currant shrubs, and patches of green. Meadowlarks sang like they were glad to have company.
The splendor along the trail was eventually relieved by a background of gray-green hills, some of which she’d ridden her pony over years ago.
She and Dusty passed a spring where tall grasses grew around the edge. A fat, young rabbit hopped out of the grass and sprang into the trees. Despite sitting tall and straight in the saddle, Taylor’s body relaxed a little when the mare proved to be a sure mount by not even flinching.
A few moments later, what sounded like the steady beat of hooves behind them drew Taylor’s attention. She wondered if there was a loose cow nearby, but saw no horns when she craned her neck around. When the sound stopped, she disregarded it as woodland animals scurrying about.
After a short climb up a hill, she and Dusty soon came to a place along the path where some logs had fallen. There was no avoiding them. “Are you going to walk over these?” Taylor asked Dusty, holding her back so she wouldn’t be tempted to jump. After calmly walking over the logs, Taylor patted the mare’s neck and said, “Good girl. That’s a fine girl.”
Once she was finally comfortable enough to coax the horse into a trot, Taylor nudged Dusty in the ribs. As she rocked in the seat, she heard the breeze whistle through the trees and felt it kiss her face. Even when several squirrels darted across the trail swishing their bushy tails, Dusty still did not respond, which gave Taylor more confidence.
It was overwhelming to be back in the saddle after such a long hiatus, but in a good way. In her years of living the fast life in Los Angeles, she had forgotten what an amazing and humbling feeling it was to commune with nature and a good animal. And the acres of land making up the Slash Y Ranch were breathtaking. No drug high could be any better than this.
Beyond, the clean, spicy smell of pine assaulted her nostrils. She finally returned the horse to a slow walk. Before long, the pine needles made a soft carpet below Dusty’s feet.
Once again, the undeniable clomp of hooves nearby aroused a feeling of wariness in Taylor. But what happened next gave her no time to prepare or react. There was a movement to her right, and she heard the rustle of something in the trees. Her horse flinched and then the world went black.
When she opened her eyes, she was lying on the ground. Turning her head, she saw Dusty standing nearby. One moment she’d been gazing into the trees to catch a glimpse of cattle, or another horse and rider, and the next, she was on her stomach and tasting dirt between her teeth.
How the hell did I end up down here? Whatever happened had happened so fast. Dusty must have thrown me, she reasoned.
Taylor rolled onto her back and slowly sat up, wincing when a sharp pain shot down her left arm.
Realizing she was hatless, she felt along the crown and back of her head for any bumps or blood. When her hand came away from her hair clean, she took a minute to gather her wits. She couldn’t remember anything after hearing the noise in the trees. After a few moments of trying to piece things together, she concluded she must have been knocked unconscious.
But why? The horse had been doing so well. The answer came a split second later with the hiss of a snake. At the sound, Dusty jumped and bolted, running the opposite direction into the pasture about thirty feet away. Taylor sucked in a deep breath and watched the snake coil itself around her cowboy hat. Without moving a muscle, she squinted and realized it was a common garter snake. Common or not, she didn’t like snakes and apparently neither did Dusty.
Scooting on her backside at a snail’s pace, Taylor inched toward the hat until she was within kicking range. When she kicked at the snake, it slithered off the path and into the thicket of trees to her right. Just as she let out the breath she’d been holding, horse’s hooves galloped up behind her and skidded to a stop.
“Taylor!”
When she turned her head, Brett was sliding off Bill. He ran to her and knelt at her side. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Where did he come from?
“I think Dusty threw me,” she said, surprised but grateful to see him and not be alone. “I must have been out for a few seconds, but I’m okay, except for my left arm. It hurts. I must have landed on it when I was tossed.” She tried to crawl to her knees but he held her back with a gentle hold on her uninjured arm.
“Don’t try to stand yet. Let me see if you’re cut or bleeding.”
“I checked and didn’t feel anything.”
“It doesn’t hurt to have a second opinion.” He gently trailed his fingers through her hair and announced that she was right; there was no blood or cuts on her scalp. “Do you have a headache?”
&nb
sp; “Surprisingly, no.”
“Is your eyesight blurred? How many fingers am I holding up?”
She saw two fingers. “Nothing is out of focus. I can see fine.”
“Do you know who I am?” he asked. The worry in his gaze was genuine and touching.
“Yes, you’re Brett Austin, foreman of the Slash Y. I’m Taylor Young, and that’s Dusty over there.” She pointed to where the Haflinger was standing quiet as a mouse. Brett’s head jerked in that direction.
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“Dusty was doing great. I heard some hooves behind and to the right of us. I thought it was a stray cow or another horse and rider. Then I heard a swishing sound in the trees. It all happened so fast. The next thing I know, I’m here on the ground with a garter snake staring at me. Dusty must have been spooked by it.”
Brett shook his head, apparently unbelieving. “This horse is only spooked by one thing, and that’s snakes.” He reached for Taylor’s hands and gently helped her up from the ground and then bent to pick up her cowboy hat. When he handed it to her, he said, “You heard a swishing sound? What do you mean by that?”
“It sounded like something heavy was whooshing through the trees.”
The furrowing of Brett’s brow was an indication he thought something wasn’t right. “Wait here,” he ordered as he tramped into the patch of trees off to the side of the trail. With his back hunched and his head bent like a hound dog, he walked the way they had come and disappeared. When he reappeared a few minutes later, he strode with purpose toward her holding something in his hand.
“What’d you find?” she asked, noting the scowl on his face.
“There are fresh horse tracks all the way back as far as I went. And this was on the trail.” He held up a cotton sack with tie strings.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a bag, just the right size for keeping a snake in. Whoever was following you must have accidentally dropped it when they hightailed it outta here.”
When it became clear what he was suggesting, Taylor’s mouth dropped open. “Do you think someone flung that snake at us on purpose knowing Dusty would spook?”
“I think it’s highly likely. Nearly any horse would flinch at something unexpected like that, but Dusty is especially shy of snakes.”
“Why would someone want to hurt the horse?”
His mouth stretched into a grimace and she immediately understood his insinuation. “I was the target,” she stated. “You believe someone flung that snake at Dusty knowing she was afraid of them and she’d throw me.” As Taylor was swallowing dizzying nausea at the inference, she could tell Brett was struggling to rein in his temper.
“Who saddled this horse for you?” he demanded.
“I told Charlie I was coming to Jamie’s cabin and asked him to get a horse ready for me. But he’d never…” Her words trailed off.
Brett balled his fists. “Each one of my wranglers is aware of the quirks of every horse on this ranch. Charlie knows Dusty is afraid of snakes. That son of a bitch.”
“Charlie Keller would never hurt me!” Taylor exclaimed. “He watched me grow up. I’ve known him all my life.” She stared at Brett’s broad back as he stalked away and collected the mare. Dusty walked by his side obediently with her tail swishing. When he thrust the reins into Taylor’s hand, she said, “You think someone was trying to stop me from going to Jamie’s cabin, don’t you?”
“That’s my guess. Besides Charlie, who all knows you were coming out here today?” Brett’s face was red, either from exertion or anger, or both.
“Mama and Will. I didn’t talk to anyone else.” Then a question crowded her thoughts. “What are you doing out here, Brett? If Charlie didn’t tell you I was riding to the cabin, who did? Why are you here?”
“I saw your mother’s nurse and she told me.”
“Chelsea? She wasn’t even at the house when I left. How would she know where I was going?”
“Mrs. Banner must have told her.”
Taylor’s mind was working like a well-oiled machine. Why would Mama have told Chelsea her business? “I didn’t see you at the house either,” she noted.
“You must have left right before I stopped in. I had something to discuss with Will. Chelsea was pouring herself a cup of coffee when I came through the kitchen. I asked her if she’d seen you and she told me you were headed to Jamie’s cabin. I finished my business with Will and decided to ride out and join you.”
“How did you know I’d ridden a horse? I could have driven the car.”
“I saw your rental parked at the house. And Dusty was gone when I went to the barn. I’m not a brain surgeon, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”
“Oh.” He had a quick and reasonable answer for everything, which was a relief. She didn’t want to add Brett’s name to her list of suspects. When he finally cracked a smile, her heart fluttered and she apologized for sounding accusatory.
“How’s that arm?” he asked, changing the subject.
Showing his temper just now indicated his concern for her safety and welfare. Taylor was also pleased to see how quick he was able to harness that temper. She moved her arm and said it was not broken. “I’ll take a couple of Motrin later and be right as rain.”
“Then let’s go. I’ll ride back to the house with you. I’m going to question every one of my men, particularly Charlie Keller. I want to get to the bottom of this.”
“I’m not heading back yet,” she said, putting on her hat and shoving her foot into the stirrup without waiting for a hand up. “I’m going to Jamie’s cabin, as I’d planned.” She adjusted her seat. “If you don’t mind waiting to question the men, you can tag along with me if you’d like, since you’re already here.” Despite knowing someone could be out to get her, Taylor’s skin prickled with excitement when Brett nodded and swung into his saddle.
“I’ll go with you. I don’t like the idea of you being alone out here. The men aren’t going anywhere. There’ll be time to talk to them when we get back.”
They each nudged their horse into a walk and the horses touched noses and whinnied. Taylor said, “I think they like each other.”
“Bill more than likes this girl,” Brett said. “He fell in love practically the moment he saw her.” When he winked, Taylor wondered if they were still talking about horses.
Chapter Seventeen
The two of them tied the animals to the branches of a live oak tree standing near Jamie’s cabin. “You still feeling all right?” Brett asked as they strolled along the stone path to the front door.
“Yeah. Just a little sore, but I guess that’s to be expected.”
“You don’t feel nauseous?”
“No.”
“And still no headache?”
“No. It’s a good thing I have a hard head,” she joked, retrieving the door key from her pocket.
His serious gaze delved into her. “Maybe we should postpone this little adventure and get you to the clinic to be checked out, just in case you have a mild concussion.”
“I feel fine. Really. And I’m not leaving until I search Jamie’s cabin.”
“Okay. You’re the boss.”
Taylor stuck the key in the keyhole, but before she turned it, she inhaled deeply. “I’m afraid,” she confessed, gazing into Brett’s eyes.
“Of what?”
“I’m not sure. I feel funny going into her house and snooping around.”
“Don’t think of it as snooping,” he suggested. “You’re here because you want to find out the truth about what happened to her.”
She nodded.
“You’re doing what any caring sister would do.”
She smiled, thankful for his calm encouragement. “You seem to know the right thing to say to make me feel better. Are you so sweet to all your girlfriends?”
“There are no girlfriends, darlin’.” His pointed gaze probed her, causing her to tingle all over. Once again, the idea of spending a hot night with
the sexy cowboy was a tempting proposition.
She turned the key and shoved the door open. As she swiftly moved through the rooms with Brett on her heels, it was clear the police had searched all twelve hundred square feet of the cabin because drawers had been left open, the clothes and linen closet doors stood ajar, and personal items were in disarray.
“I guess your folks haven’t been in here to straighten up,” Brett said.
“I doubt they’ve had the courage to come here, let alone do anything with her belongings.” Taylor sighed and placed her hands on her hips and gazed around the living area. “I don’t know why I came either. I have no idea of what I’m looking for or where to start.”
“You’re looking for clues as to who was here that evening,” Brett said, once again reeling her in as she was starting to feel weighted down.
“Don’t you think the cops would have collected any and all evidence in their investigation?”
“You said yourself they might have missed something important. You look in the bedroom and I’ll check around here and in the kitchen.”
Taylor stepped into Jamie’s bedroom and her gaze instantly flew to the floor next to the bed where Jamie had been found, and then to the nightstand. There were still bloodstains on the carpet and on the bedside table. Turning away quickly and feeling queasy, she squeezed her eyes shut and sat on the edge of the bed. When she felt her dizziness pass, she opened her eyes and Jamie was next to her.
Taylor bolted off the bed as if she’d been scalded by hot water and clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Even though she’d experienced Jamie in apparition form a few times already, it was startling to find her deceased sister sitting right next to her. Hearing Brett rummaging through things in the other room, she caught her breath and whispered, “You scared me. I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect to see you here. I guess you can show up wherever and whenever you please.”
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