Big Sky

by Stacey Coverstone

  “Someone took a potshot at her when she was at the service station picking up her new rental car, but she left the scene before I could get there. We found a 12-gauge shotgun shell in the abandoned building across the street.”

  “Someone shot at Taylor with a 12-gauge?” Brett repeated.

  Charlie’s head pivoted. He stepped up to Brett’s shoulder and said, “Dash has a 12-gauge under his bed.”

  “Rick, I think you’d better get out here and bring a search warrant with you. I have good reason to believe Dash Bullion is the man who shot at Taylor. And he might also be involved in Jamie Young’s death.”

  “Do you have proof to back up that claim?”

  “No, but I can get it if you give me the go ahead to go through his personal belongings.”

  “Is Bullion there at the ranch now?” Rick asked.

  “I haven’t seen him. His truck’s not here.” Brett’s chest tightened. “I’ve got to find Taylor,” he told Rick. “She may be in trouble.”

  “You stay there,” the sheriff demanded. “I’ll be out as soon as I get that warrant.”

  “I’m not waiting for you. I’ve got to get to Taylor before he hurts her.”

  Charlie interrupted the conversation again. “Brett, I hear a vehicle outside.”

  Tumbleweed hurried to the door and looked out. “It’s Dash,” he whispered, returning to Brett’s side.

  “Rick, he just pulled up.”

  “Stay there. I need you to detain him. Don’t let him remove anything from his bunk. I’m on my way.” With that, the phone went dead.

  “Dammit.” Brett ripped off his hat and plowed a hand through his hair. He gave the two ranch hands a shove toward the door. “The sheriff is on his way. Act natural and keep your eye on Dash. Don’t do anything to make him suspicious, but follow him and make sure he doesn’t take anything out of the bunkhouse or leave again. Got it?”

  “Got it,” the men replied in unison.

  For close to thirty minutes, all Brett could do was wait and pace, and worry about Taylor. He wanted to disobey Rick’s orders and set out to find her, but something made him stay.

  If something has happened to her, I’ll tear Dash’s head off and feed it to the coyotes.

  Unable to concentrate on anything else, he kept gazing out the tack room window to make sure Charlie and Tumbleweed hadn’t let Dash leave the bunkhouse. Finally, he heard the sound of gravel crunching as a car pulled up to the barn.

  “He’s in the bunkhouse. Did you bring a warrant?” he asked, meeting Rick and his deputy outside and not giving Rick time to respond before leading them toward the cabin.

  “I’ve got it.” Rick waved the paper in front of Brett’s face as they strode. When Brett opened the bunkhouse door, three sets of eyes pivoted. The three ranch hands were sitting at the kitchen table playing cards. A look of relief spread across both Charlie and Tumbleweed’s faces. Upon seeing the sheriff and his deputy enter behind Brett, Dash’s face went pale and his mouth twisted into a scowl.

  “Dash Bullion,” Rick said, “I have a warrant here to go through your personal belongings. Which bunk is yours?”

  Dash bolted up from his chair. “Why? What have I done? You don’t have a right.”

  “This paper says I do. Tell me which bunk is yours.”

  “It’s that one,” Tumbleweed offered, pointing out Dash’s bed and dresser in the far corner. He and Charlie both pushed away from the table and stood up.

  “You men stand on each side of Mr. Bullion. If he tries to come after me or escape, you have my permission to stop him in any way you deem fit.”

  “Yes, sir,” Charlie said, burning a hole into Dash with a gaze as strong as a laser.

  “Brett, you help me and Deputy Jones,” Rick said.

  He was glad to. The quicker they found what they were looking for, the faster he could get to Taylor. Within moments, they’d discovered the 12-gauge under the bed, where Charlie had said it would be, as well as a box of unused shells.

  “It’s recently been fired,” the deputy determined. “It’ll be easy to match these shells with the discarded one we found across from the service station.”

  Brett stared at Dash, whose eyes looked as hard as stone. When Rick pulled a metal footlocker out from under the bed and asked Dash for the key, he refused to speak or hand over a key. Rick yanked his pistol from its holster and busted the lock with the butt of the gun.

  “What have we here?” Brett said, reaching inside and pulling out a large, leather-bound ledger book. He thumbed through the pages with Rick reading over his shoulder. “He’s been selling Native American artifacts on eBay. And here’s the proof that he’s been providing fake certifications to his unsuspecting customers. That’s why he became disturbed when you told him Taylor had gone to the cave, Tumbleweed. The artifacts must have come from the cave.”

  “Looks like you’re in the wrong business, Mr. Bullion. You’re a pretty damn good record keeper.” Rick skimmed his finger down the sales columns and whistled. “Wow, I didn’t know you could make so much money by selling old Indian relics.” He grinned at Dash. “Of course, it’s a felony to do so. And it’s also illegal to commit fraud. Guess I’m going to have to arrest you.” Rick pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and asked Charlie to turn Dash around.

  “It would be my honor,” Charlie said, swinging Dash around with an iron grip on his arms.

  “Look here,” Brett said, lifting several loose envelopes out of the footlocker. He read two of the letters silently and then announced, “They’re love letters from Chelsea Hamilton. And they’re proof she’s in business with him.” He read the third note and nodded his head. “It says right here that Dash was behind the incident with the snake and that he tampered with the brakes on Taylor’s rental car.”

  “This is my lucky day. The charges seem to be piling up.” Rick smiled while snapping the cuffs on Dash’s wrists. “Do those letters mention anything about Jamie Young?”

  “No.” Brett sobered and then remembered the insomnia medication and dug around in the footlocker again. “Jackpot!” He held up a nearly empty bottle of Phenobarbital, the same drug that had been found in Jamie’s bloodstream. “Is this proof enough to arrest Dash for being involved in Jamie’s death?” he asked Rick.

  “No, but I’m willing to bet Miss Hamilton might be very helpful when it comes to learning the truth about what happened to Jamie that night.”

  Dash growled, “That bitch won’t squeal on me.”

  Charlie spun Dash around and gritted, “You’d be surprised what a woman will do. Especially one who’s tired of getting beat up.”

  “If she’s got a brain in her head, she’ll try to cut a deal,” Brett said.

  “She won’t snitch,” Dash spat. “She loves me. And without her confession, you have no proof that I had anything to do with that bitch’s death.”

  “Oh, I expect Miss Hamilton’s love will falter once I offer her a plea deal. That’s how it usually goes in these cases,” Rick said.

  Dash narrowed his eyes at Brett and flashed an evil grin. “At least the sisters will be reunited again.”

  “What the hell are you yakking about?” Rick asked.

  Dash mocked Charlie when he said, “Last I saw Miss Taylor, she’d gone for a little swim in a deep, dark hole.”

  When Brett lunged and twisted Dash’s shirt collar into his neck, it took both Tumbleweed and Charlie to pull him off. “Where is she, you prick?” he barked in Dash’s face.

  “I can tell you exactly where she is,” Charlie said.

  Rick told his deputy to bag all the evidence and then he roughly shoved Dash out the door. “It’s off to jail for Mr. Bullion and then I’m headed straight to Chelsea Hamilton’s place,” he told Brett. “I’ll call you as soon as they’re both locked up. Do you know how to find Taylor?”

  “I’m drawing him a map right now,” Charlie said, writing on the back of a scrap paper.

  Rick winked. “Go find your girl, Brett.”r />
  ****

  When Taylor woke, strong arms held her tight and Brett’s deep voice rumbled in her ear as he crushed her to his chest. “You’re okay now, honey. I’m here and I’m going to take you home.”

  Was he a mirage or a figment of her imagination? She reached her hand up to feel the roughness of his unshaven jaw and trailed her fingers across his lips. He was real, and he held onto her like he never meant to let her go again. With her head on his chest, she felt the strength of his hard muscled frame sustaining her flagging body. “Is it really you?” she whispered.

  “Yes, darlin’. It’s me. Your knight in shining armor, come to the rescue again.”

  Smiling, she guessed she must have fainted, but didn’t know how long she’d been out. Her eyes widened with the recollection of the nightmarish situation she’d just gone through. “Brett, I know who murdered Jamie!”

  “So do I,” he interrupted. “Dash and Chelsea are being hauled to the Prosperity jail as we speak.”

  “What? How?” Could it be true? She had so many questions.

  “Not now,” he said, lifting her into his arms, unconcerned that she was transferring the wetness of her clothes to him. “I’ll tell you everything after I’ve gotten you home and checked out by a doctor. Do you think you can sit behind me? You’ll have to hold on tight.”

  Remembering he’d teased her in the same way the first day they met, she nodded and he swung her onto Bill’s back like she was a piece of cotton. She noticed he had already tied Sugarfoot to Bill, which meant he’d be ponying the gelding behind the paint.

  “You must be thirsty,” Brett said, twisting the cap off his canteen and handing it to her. She drank almost the entire contents down without coming up for air. Then he pulled a lightweight blanket out of his saddlebag and wrapped it around her shoulders. “It’s an hour’s ride. Hope you don’t catch pneumonia.”

  “This blanket will help,” she assured, pulling it tight. “And the warmth of your back will warm me.”

  She leaned to the side so he could throw his weight into the saddle. When she coiled her hands around his middle and laid her head on his back, he placed his palm over her hands and squeezed.

  “Let’s go home, darlin’.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “You’re going to be just fine, young lady.” Doc Mathers, an old friend of Will’s, stepped away from Taylor’s bedside. “Your ankle is not broken, only sprained. Keep the bandage on for a few days and continue to take Motrin for the pain. For your scraped hands, rub some Aloe Vera on them.” He glanced at Will, Nancy, and Brett, who all stood at the foot of her bed. “She’ll be as good as new before you know it.”

  “Thank you for making a house call, Doc,” Taylor said.

  “Glad to help.”

  Will stepped forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Your mother and I were so worried, honey. But you’re safe now. Sleep well tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Thank you, Will.”

  He nodded with his eyes misting and then turned to the doctor. “Let me walk you out, Doc, before I become a blubbering idiot and my macho image is ruined.” Everyone chuckled as the two men left the room.

  Nancy hobbled to Taylor’s side and hugged her gently. “You did it, sweetheart. You told me you’d find your sister’s killer and that’s exactly what you did. Jamie can rest in peace now—and so can I. Thank you for believing me. But I’m so sorry for all you’ve gone through. Thank God it’s over and you’re all right.”

  “Mama, I love you. I’m sorry for all the years I stayed away. And for blaming you—”

  Nancy shushed her. “That’s all water under the bridge. We’ve reconnected and that’s all that matters to me. We’re moving forward starting now.” Her eyes lit up. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Your stepfather wants to take me on a cruise. Imagine that.”

  Taylor smiled. “That’s wonderful, Mama. It can be a second honeymoon for the two of you.”

  Nancy winked. “That’s what I told Will. We’re planning on reconnecting, too.” She patted Taylor’s leg through the cover and stood up slowly. “I’ll leave you with Brett now. I know you probably have a lot of talking to do. Good night, dear.”

  “Night, Mama. See you in the morning.”

  Once she’d left the room, Brett approached Taylor’s side. She immediately wanted to know how he’d known where to find her and if Dash and Chelsea had both confessed to their crimes. Brett explained the sequence of events. When he was finished, she said, “Amazing. Dash didn’t appear smart enough to pull something like that off. And Chelsea…” She shook her head. “I shiver thinking how Mama was alone with her and trusted her.”

  “Her yearning to go to Vegas was stronger than her morals.”

  “I heard her talking about Vegas in the cave! And Dash confessed to forcing pills and alcohol down Jamie’s throat. I heard him with my own ears. I’ll testify in court.”

  “There probably won’t be any need for that,” Brett said. “Rick picked Chelsea up at her house in town. She immediately broke down and started spilling her guts. He offered her a deal if she’d finger Dash, and she took it.”

  “That’s true love for you,” Taylor said with sarcasm.

  “She admitted everything, including his killing Jamie because she was going to turn the two of them in for looting the cave of the artifacts.”

  “Chelsea obviously was in cahoots with Dash before she came to work for Mama.”

  “Yes. According to the statement she made to Rick, she specifically asked for the job working with your mother when she heard there was a position open. She also admitted to stealing a few pieces of your mother’s jewelry while she was here.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes in disgust. “Does Mama know that?”

  “Yes, Rick told her. She’ll get them back after the trial.”

  “What will happen to the two of them now?” she asked.

  “According to Rick, it’s a federal offense to trade or sell archaeological finds. Dash is being charged with trafficking and of violating a law that protects American Indian artifacts, as well as fraud. And, of course, he’s charged with Jamie’s murder and your attempted murder. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison. Even with Chelsea cutting a deal, she’s still being charged with two counts of conspiracy to commit murder and robbery. She won’t be seeing the bright lights of Vegas anytime soon. There’s one last clincher you might be interested in knowing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dash was a heavy smoker. I knew he smoked, of course. But at the time you mentioned that as a clue, I had no idea one of my men would turn out to be a murderer.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Taylor leaned back against her pillows. “One more question and then I’ll leave you alone. How did you find me, Brett?”

  “Charlie told me how to get to the cave. When I got there, Sugarfoot was wandering around in the tall grass. It was like he was waiting for someone to show up. He led me straight to you. It was a miracle.”

  She smiled, wondering if the same primal voice she’d heard had whispered in the horse’s ear, too.

  A wide grin from Brett sent her heart soaring. When she’d been at the bottom of the cavern, she’d thought she’d never see him again. Here he was a sight for sore eyes.

  He glanced behind him at the awards and trophies sitting on her shelves. “This wasn’t the way I’d expected to get into your bedroom, but I’m not complaining.”

  She chuckled and patted the space next to her. “Come. Sit close to me.”

  When he sat on the edge of the bed, his masculine scent drifted into her nostrils. There was so much she wanted to say to him. But where should she start? “How can I ever thank you?” she began. “You saved my life—so many times.”

  “Isn’t that what knights in shining armor do?” he teased, though his eyes spoke with more seriousness.

  “I mean it. You’ve been there for me every time I needed you. I owe you so much.
I don’t know how to repay you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Taylor. I’m just glad you’re safe and that the people who took your sister away from you and your family will be punished.”

  Grinning and feeling like a bashful child, she said, “Would you accept a thank you kiss from me?”

  Brett’s eyebrows arched and he smiled. “What man would turn down a kiss from a beautiful woman?”

  “Not you, I hope.”

  They leaned into each other and kissed. The warmth of his lips caused her skin to prickle with excitement. Her body heated like a torch and she thought back to the night they made love, wishing he’d crawl into the covers now and hold her tight.

  “You’re welcome,” he said when they parted.

  Did he still feel something for her? Searching his eyes, she saw passion—but what else? Regret? Sadness? Defeat?

  “Is there anything wrong, Brett?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “You suddenly look like you’re a million miles away.”

  “Do I? I’m sorry. I was just wondering when you’re going back to L.A.”

  So that was it. It was the end for them after all. He’d obviously changed his mind about her—or come to his senses and was trying to make a fast break in the most polite way. After all, he was a gentleman cowboy.

  Taylor’s heart galloped inside her chest. She should have known this was how it would turn out. Why had he teased her, telling her he’d fallen for her? She’d known it was impossible to fall in love in such a short time. And yet, down in the damp, dark recesses of the cavern, a feeling of tranquility—of soothing comfort—had spread through her when she’d imagined spending the rest of her life with Brett here in Montana. Being home again had reminded her how much she’d missed nature and what it meant to have family close. She’d almost convinced herself she could take any kind of photography job just to stay here with him.

  Thank God she hadn’t blurted out her feelings. She’d handled the loss of her husband and sister, and she’d dealt with being separated from her mother and stepfather—all with a control that had sealed her off from additional hurt for so many years. No one had found his way inside her heart—until now. And this is what she got for being vulnerable and opening her heart again.