Page 8 of Cowboy Peril

He gave a curt nod. “I thought it wise to let Sheriff Westbrook in on your suspicions about being threatened.”

“It’s a fact, Colton, not a suspicion. Let me get settled in first, okay?” Just one more person who didn’t believe her. Why did his disbelief hurt so much more than everyone else’s? “Where can I find you?”

He headed to the door. “I’ll be in the temporary barn. Make sure you have a list for groceries. I don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

Surly attitude. She headed up the stairs as his footsteps retreated.

A queen-sized bed covered by what looked like a handmade quilt provided color to the loft. Two small closets stood on each side. A dresser formed a half wall between the loft and the downstairs. The whole place was adorable.

She put her clothes away, stacked the books she’d recently purchased on the dresser, and surveyed the few things she’d brought with her. Nothing compared to what remained in her apartment, yet she felt…lighter somehow.

Once the killer was caught, it might be time for Parker to reassess her priorities.

~

After he took Parker to see the sheriff, if he could just stay busy, he might not have to see much of her. But what if the sheriff believed her? What if Colt was asked to watch over her? The last thing he wanted was to be the babysitter to the woman who had cast him off because he wasn’t good enough to be her husband.

“I’m ready.”

He turned. Parker stood just outside the door, the sun highlighting her walnut-colored hair. Her blue eyes remained hidden in the shadows. Always the epitome of fashion, Parker wore skinny jeans and a pink frilly blouse.

Despite his pain, he couldn’t help but remember the scent of her hair as he held her in his arms. Something floral and expensive. She’d barely had to tilt her face when he’d kissed her, her five-foot-nine inches fitting perfectly against his six-foot-two.

He gave an inward groan—this wasn’t going to be easy. “Let me wash up.” He marched past her, angry at the path his thoughts had taken, and washed his hands and forearms at a horse trough set up for that purpose.

“Why don’t you wash up in the house?”

He spun around to see her staring at him, a fist posted on her hip. “Mrs. White forbids us to bring anything dirty or foul into the house. Manure is at the top of that list.” He dried off with a towel hanging on the branch of a nearby tree.

“Why don’t you have one of the other men shovel the manure?” She frowned, wrinkling her nose.

“There are no servants here, Parker. We all pitch in, which is also expected of you if you plan on staying.”

“I am. I will.” She jogged to keep up with him as he strode toward his truck.

“We could use some feed, Colt.” The older cowboy yelled from the paddock. “What we got is wet.”

Colt shook his head. Not having a proper barn caused all kinds of problems he hadn’t anticipated. “Send a list of what we need to the co-op. I’ll make a stop.” He’d have a lot to put in an email to Dylan that evening, starting with Parker.

Since the ranch’s mission was to help those in trouble, Dylan would welcome her, but Colt still couldn’t help but think it might be a ploy to get his attention. Now that her parents were gone, God rest their souls, Parker might be hoping to reconcile with him. Not a chance. He deserved more than a woman who chose her inheritance over the man she supposedly loved. Nope. He wouldn’t put himself in that situation again. If Parker wanted a cowboy, there were other available men on the ranch.

Huffing, Colt opened the truck door for her. Even if he wanted to keep his distance from Parker, his mother would reach down from heaven and box his ears if he didn’t act like a gentleman.

“What would you do if you suspected your parents were murdered?” She asked as he pulled away from the ranch. “Not suspected. Knew. You knew they were murdered.”

“Okay. Why?” His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. “What’s the motive?”

“Money. It’s always money or revenge.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe it’s both.”

“Again…why? Did they have enemies?”

She shrugged. “Dad didn’t talk to me about his business.”

“Construction, right?”

“Yes, so why kill him?”

“Exactly.”

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