Page 3 of Mystery at Rescue Ridge

Owen issued a sharp sigh.

Evie needed to figure out an exit plan before she said something she might end up regretting.But what?

“Relationships change,” she started, searching for the right words that would give her an out without stomping on his feelings.She cared about not causing him more pain.Cared a little too much for her own good.“People grow apart.”It wasn’t true, of course.The two of them had been as thick as thieves right up until she’d realized she had to go.Owen was going to leave.The way his father had treated him and the other Sturgess siblings, there’d been no other choice.He’d been clear about his intentions to get out of Dodge as fast as humanly possible.His siblings had been doing the same.His only sister, Chloe, had taken off before her eighteenth birthday, which said a lot about how awful life under Beaumont Sturgess’s rules had been.

“Never thought that would happen to us,” he said.

Hadn’t it been inevitable?They’d been moving in different directions.He’d vowed never to set foot on the family ranch again; a vow he’d lived up to, according to Simone, not that Evie had asked.Her sister had known.Simone had figured out Evie’s feelings for Owen even before she had.Evie had been trucking along, deeply in love, and hadn’t realized the depth of her feelings until Simone had brought them to Evie’s attention.

She’d been hit like a Mack truck.Then had come the panic.

“What can I say?It had to happen sooner or later.We were both about to move out of town.”

He walked in front of her, holding up his cell between his thumb and forefinger.“Funny thing.There are these modern inventions called phones.You use them to call people you care about to see how they’re doing.Simple really.You don’t even have to memorize numbers anymore.You just have to bring up their name on your contact list and then tap the screen.”He made a dramatic show.“Voilà!Next thing you know, a voice comes out of the speaker.”

Her throat dried up with him standing this close—so close she could reach out and touch him.Evie averted her gaze, unwilling or unable to make eye contact, fearing she’d give herself away.Or start crying.She couldn’t decide which would be worse.Open the floodgates and they might never close again.

“I know,” she said, realizing she hadn’t responded to his statement about phones.How could she tell him that she’d been much better off not checking her cell every few minutes to see if he’d called?How did she tell him that she hadn’t wanted to become the kind of person who held her breath every time a text came in, hoping it was from him?

At eighteen, she’d been hopelessly in love with Owen.At least now she could dock those feelings, even if she couldn’t look him in the eye.“It’s good to see you again, Owen, and I appreciate the fact you came running to answer my call for help, but—”

“Is it?”he asked, cutting her off.“Good to see me?”

“Yes, and—”

“I don’t believe you, Evie.”The way her name rolled off his tongue shouldn’t be sexy.It was.

“It’s been fourteen years.”She’d gotten over him after months of going to sleep crying on her pillow.Resisting the urge to call him when anything good happened had been hell.Restraining the urge to call him when something bad happened had been worse.That old saying,Time heals all wounds, was a crock.She still missed Socks, her first kitty.What she’d learned after walking away from Owen was that time didn’t make you stop missing someone you loved.The hole in her heart proved as much.

“Yeah?We were friends since kindergarten.”He crossed his arms over his chest.“How do you erase that?”

“I didn’t,” she said quickly.Too quickly.“It was time to move on.And, as much as I knew I would miss you, I thought it was better to make a clean break.”

“You were my best friend, Evie.”He threw his hands up in the air.“Why did we have to break up at all?”

This conversation was going around in circles.His frustration was rising, and she needed to get back to the house.

“The kids need me, Owen.”She turned toward the place she’d moved that would never feel like home.

“Wrong way,” he said, placing his hands on either shoulder before physically pointing her in the opposite direction.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Is everything okay with Simone?”

“Why would you ask?”

“Is she sick, or something?”

Or something,was right.A sob escaped.Evie hadn’t spoken to a soul about Simone since being called back home.Hello, floodgates.

She lifted her hand to cover her mouth as she shook her head.

“Oh,” he said.His deep timbre washed over her and through her, reaching deep inside her chest where light never reached anymore.

In the next second, her face was buried in his chest as he wrapped those strong, muscled arms around her.

“I’m so sorry,” he soothed, the words a balm to her broken heart.“I didn’t know.”

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