Page 4 of Captive at Rescue Ridge

As Annalee slipped through the woods toward the vehicle she’d stashed closer to the farm road, her mistake dawned on her.

Archer might be alive and well, but she didn’t remember seeing his brother—correction, identical twin brother, Owen.

Shit on a stick.

The picture was real. They had the wrong guy.

2

Lights and sirens blazing, the drive toward the cabin flew by in a matter of minutes.

“I’ll cut off the noise long before an intruder is alerted,” Travis had promised before doing just that for the last few minutes of the route.

“I’m still trying to figure out how this could’ve happened,” Archer said, still beating himself up over not noticing a hand in his pocket. How on earth had a pickpocket stolen his keys while he was awake and alert?

“The vestibule was crowded.” Travis’s excuse might be valid, but it was still frustrating as all get out. Being careless could cost lives on a ranch, especially when heavy equipment was involved. He’d been trained better than that. Hell, it was in his DNA to be cautious and pay attention to his surroundings. The sheriff continued, “I can’t count the number of times I was elbowed or bumped into today. This could have happened to any one of us.”

But it hadn’t. It had happened to Archer—and it had happened after receiving an anonymous text about Owen. “Did you notice any unfamiliar faces?” Archer might have grown up in Saddle Junction, but he’d gotten the hell out of Dodge hours after his last day of high school. He’d gone back to the ranch long enough to pack up a backpack full of belongings, empty what little savings he’d had, and hit the road in search of work. Considering his family’s high-profile name, it hadn’t taken long to find a job on another horse operation.

“There were too many hats to see everyone’s faces clearly,” Travis reported. As sheriff, he noticed things most people wouldn’t. “Plus, with Grayson, I’m focused more on keeping an eye on him when we’re together, and I’m off-duty in a social situation.”

Of course, he was. A three-year-old had boundless energy. Travis was turning out to be a great father to Archer’s nephew. The man loved Chloe’s son as his own, and Grayson couldn’t have asked for a better parent. Chloe had mentioned Travis couldn’t have kids, so they planned to grow their family another way when the time was right. For now, a three-year-old and a new marriage were enough on their plate to keep them busy—and happy—based on the silly smile they both wore when talking about their relationship.

Archer was happy for his sister. She’d found the real deal. He knew because there was a girl, once, who had looked at him the way Chloe looked at Travis. That was a long time ago and not worth rehashing the past over. Except, Black Hat stirred up those memories. The second he’d spotted her, it was like a lightning bolt had struck the center of his chest.

Annalee returning to Saddle Junction after all these years, especially after how she and her mother had been treated, made no sense. What did she have to return to? Had she heard about Beaumont’s death and decided to pay her respects? He dismissed the idea almost as fast as it came to mind. Calling his father a jerk for the way he’d treated Annalee would be too kind. His father had warned her not to come around. He’d threatened to get her and her no-good mother kicked out of town if she didn’t get off his property and leave his kid alone. Beaumont hadn’t cared about Archer. The man had been concerned about what it would look like to others if Archer was seen out and about with what he’d called “catch and release” folks. His father had said spending a night with women like Annalee and her mother was understandable, but a real relationship was idiotic—as though some folks were inherently better than others solely based on numbers in their bank account. Moral code went out the window. Things like character and decency had fallen somewhere on the bottom of Beaumont’s list of virtues.

Pulling up to the cabin forced Archer’s thoughts to the present. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find when they arrived. An open front door? A busted window?

Everything on the home front looked the same as when he’d left a little while ago. Not much else had changed either. There was still no text from Owen, and Hudson was still dark, too. Hope fizzled that this was some kind of twisted prank.

A couple of big raindrops dripped from rolling gray clouds. Splats on the windshield said the storm had arrived.

“Wait here,” Travis instructed.

“No can do, Sheriff. Sorry.” No way did Archer intend to stand outside or sit in this vehicle while his place was being invaded, let alone leave the sheriff to handle the situation alone. Archer had a right and responsibility to defend himself and this land.

“Then stay close to me.”

Archer nodded before following Travis to the door. He had a shotgun inside the house, which did no good while he stood on the porch.

Weapon drawn, Travis signaled for Archer to try the door. It was locked.

Dammit.

They’d have to figure out another route inside because Archer didn’t store a spare key on site.

Travis moved to the back of the house. Again, the door was locked. He stood there looking thoroughly confused.

“How often does a criminal lock the door after ransacking a house?” Archer asked, keeping his voice low.

“Not often.” Travis holstered his weapon and reported their findings via text. “Do you have a spare key tucked behind a plant somewhere?” he muttered.

“Do I look like the kind of person who has houseplants on the patio?”

Travis looked up and glanced around, conceding the point with a frown. “Do you leave any windows unlocked by chance?”

“Hell, I used to leave the doors unlocked until recently.”

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