Page 3 of Cowboy Peril

“They were killed!” She jumped to her feet. “I have to pack.”

“Where are you going? We need to be able to contact you.”

She rattled off her phone number. “I’m going to Misty Hollow.” The last place she’d heard Colt was. She’d read an article online about a new ranch and had seen him in thebackground of a photo. Hopefully, he would still be there. Hopefully, he wouldn’t turn her away. A whole lot of hopefullys for a man she’d walked away from.

Leaving the officer to see himself out, Parker rushed to her room and tossed clothes, toiletries, and anything else she might need into a suitcase. She’d have to withdraw money from an ATM. Misty Hollow would have a bank where she could access more funds. Her mind whirled as she formed an escape plan.

Until she could find out why her parents were killed and why she was now being targeted, she had to leave. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants over her shorts and hurried back to the living room. The officer turned from the window. “You’re still here.”

He lifted a shoulder. “The scene is being processed. I’m watching to see whether the suspect makes another appearance.”

She edged next to him and glanced out the window. Several people from the apartment complex milled around at the edge of the parking lot. None of them looked like the shadowy figure she’d seen. “I don’t see him.”

“Maybe this isn’t about you at all, Miss Wells.”

“I saw the note,” she ground out through her teeth. Why wouldn’t he believe her about this? Why wouldn’t the authorities believe her about her parents’ death not being an accident? “Enough. I’m leaving. Call me if you need me.” She grabbed her suitcase and purse, then stormed out of the apartment.

Feeling safe with several police officers around, she took the time to put the GPS coordinates to Misty Hollow into her phone before leaving the parking lot and heading north. Maybe she should have thought things through before heading to Misty Hollow. She had to hold onto the hope that Colt would forgive her and help her. Who else could she trust other than the strong, silent, cowboy?

Parker made a quick stop at the bank and withdrew her limit of four-hundred dollars, then stopped to fill up with gas and buy a large coffee. By the time she reached the interstate, her nerves were on edge, and she kept choking back sobs at the image of her friend. Whatever that man had against Parker and her parents had nothing to do with Tanya. How could it?

Now, Parker was on the run with waves of grief washing over her and heading to ask the man whose heart she’d broken to help her. She shook her head, glancing through the rearview mirror. What had happened to her life? How had she gone from the pampered daughter of well-off parents to a scared rabbit on the run? Parker sniffed and swiped a quick hand across her swollen eyes. She didn’t have time to cry. Not yet.

The sun peeked over the horizon as she drove through the valley that held Misty Hollow in its palm, then up the mountain toward the Rocking W Ranch. At least that’s the directions the man at the last gas station told her.

Misty Hollow lay quiet in the early morning hours. Very few cars cruised the streets. No one walked the sidewalks as the streetlights blinked off. Quiet and calm welcomed her. Thick foliage rose on both sides of the road heading up the mountain. A wall on her left, a cliff on her right, and hairpin turns that kept her speed at a minimum. Since it didn’t appear as if anyone had followed her, some of the urgency fell from her shoulders, and Parker allowed herself to enjoy the scenery. Occasionally, she’d glimpse a view of the hollow below, the rising sun kissing the tops of buildings and trees. It wasn’t hard to see the allure of such a place. A place where Colt would fit right in.

Her heart stung at how she’d let him go—the pain in his eyes, the white line around his lips as he bit back a retort after she told him her parents would never accept him as a suitable husband. She’d chosen money and position in society over the love of a good man and had regretted it every day since. Wouldhe even listen to her? Give her a chance to explain? He’d probably turn his back on her. She’d spotted a motel on the outskirts of town. If he did send her away, then at least she could go there until she figured out her next step.

The road evened out when she reached the top of the mountain. She parked on the side of the road and got out of the car to admire the view. The town below looked like something out of a postcard as the sun swept away the lingering mist. What splendor it must be in the fall.

Knowing she couldn’t stall facing Colt any longer, she climbed back in her car, glanced at her GPS, and headed for the Rocking W.

A wooden, rectangular arch greeted visitors. At the end of a long drive flanked by white fences where horses grazed stood a large three-story house. Behind and to the sides were multiple outbuildings. The picturesque ranch looked well-kept and profitable. She parked in a small parking lot a few yards away from the house and stepped out of the car on trembling legs.

She climbed the steps and raised her hand to knock. The door opened before she could, and a woman in a frilly yellow apron greeted her. Parker forced a smile. “I’m here to speak to Colt Dawson.”

“Ranch business or personal? He’s our foreman, so we get both kinds.” The woman smiled.

“Personal.”

“It’s early, so he’s either in the bunkhouse—she motioned to a sprawling white building—or the barn. Breakfast isn’t for another half an hour, so he should be easy to locate.”

“Thank you.” She returned the woman’s smile and headed first for the bunkhouse where a thin, older man by the name of Willy pointed her to the barn.

“Boss is on his honeymoon, so Colt is picking up the slack,” he said. “Our barn burned down not too long ago, so he’s in that big tin shed for now.”

Parker nodded as if she understood and headed for a building that looked nothing like a barn. The metal shed was big and ugly, but the nickers of horses greeted her as she stepped into the dim recess.

She recognized him before he turned around. Faded jeans that fit him just right. A flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled, tanned forearms. A cowboy hat hanging on a nearby hook. Sand-colored hair tousled from having worn the hat. Hazel eyes that widened at the sight of her.

“Hello, Colt.”

~

“Parker?” What in the world was she doing on the Rocking W? Parker Wells was the last person Colt ever expected to see again.

He leaned the shovel he’d been using to clean manure from the stalls and grabbed a wet rag from a nearby bucket to clean his hands. Colt needed a moment to compose himself before moving closer. Not that he needed to—when he straightened, she’d moved close enough he could smell the remnants of a floral perfume.

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