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  “Hell, I didn’t take the time to check. Between getting Chase up to bed and consoling Sarah, I didn’t have a minute to myself.” Bo recalled having just buttoned his pants after making love to her before a knock sounded on the door. She’d rushed to dress while he greeted their guests.

  “Your foreman was very lucky. He caught up with both Doc Murphy and me outside Naked Bluff’s general store. We both hurried right over.” Jack turned to the fire and wiped a hand across his mouth. “I’m glad you called me in on this case, mainly because now, you won’t have to take the heat for ruling this self-defense. From everything I’ve seen and heard, Sarah had no choice but to kill Nevada. Even though, it appears unintentional on her part.”

  Pleased with his boss’ verdict, Bo nodded. “There’ll be those who’ll believe you should’ve brought her up on charges.”

  Jack lifted a brow. “Yes, well, anyone familiar with the man probably knew he’d come to this end sooner or later. The only surprise is a woman did it to him.”

  He frowned. “Though, I have to say this won’t make your life together any easier.”

  Stunned by his comment, Bo squawked, “What do you mean? Why will this make any difference to us? Except that we won’t have to go through a trial.”

  “Well, you might want to consider the kind of trouble she might get into living here by herself.” His boss held up a hand to stop his interruption. “Yes, your brother will be here to protect her, but look what happened while you were gone for only a few hours.”

  Bo’s prospective shifted. Would other men come to their place to harass her? Even after they were married? If so, could he afford to quit his job and run the ranch with his brother?

  Chase spent most of his time training cutting horses for ranchers around the state. When Bo was home, they both decided on which mares to breed. They hired Zack to handle the livestock and farm their crops. Still, every spring, Bo and Chase chose which fields to either raise a crop or plant grass in which to feed their herd. If they were strapped for money, they usually sold a few colts.

  Jack shrugged. “Not saying you have to make the decision right away, but it might be wise to resign from your job.

  “Once people learn what happened, there’s bound to be a few newspapermen looking for a story. Those hounds will show up on your doorstep without any invitation.”

  Bo swallowed, acknowledging the truth of his boss’ statement. The knot in his stomach tightened. The bright future he’d envisioned this morning dissolved into the muddy waters of the press’ interpretations of the event.

  Yes, deputies worked to keep the peace and protect the citizens of Texas. Sometimes, though, what the newspapers reported and what happened were very different. Especially if powerful people wanted to incite the public into believing they had a stake in the case.

  “Sarah has made a few enemies too. Her in-laws felt she encouraged Micah’s wild behavior. Others, whom she’d considered her friends, wouldn’t lift a finger to help her now that she’s broke.” Tilting his head to the side, Jack sent him a searching glance as if to verify the fact.

  Bo nodded. “She told me her stallion is all she has left of her marriage. Everything else went to her husband’s family or creditors.”

  “Which means she has no sway on them?” A knowing smile swept briefly over his boss’ lips. “Though, she has been naked with a number of powerful men. If for some reason they decide to help her, they’ll want their piece of flesh for their efforts.”

  The thought of Sarah making love to another man had a violent rage racing through Bo. Everything in him wanted to strike out. Yet, the man responsible for this mess was dead, having paid the ultimate price.

  Still, Bo struggled to exert control over his unruly emotions. Grinding his teeth together, he kept the harsh comment on the tip of his tongue from coming out. He tightened his grip on the arm of the chair, the rough upholstery biting into his hands. With a great deal of effort, he remained seated.

  “Take it easy. We don’t even know if this will cause a problem.” Jack laughed. “Though, I’m sure there’s a slew of men out there who wouldn’t mind bedding that sweet, little filly upstairs.”

  Bo forced between tight lips. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  * * *

  Chase sank into a chair at the head of the table. Still recovering from his beating yesterday, he eyed the plate of eggs in front of him and lifted his fork. “We need to make a few decisions.”

  Bo lifted a questioning brow. “About?”

  Opening his mouth to respond, Chase paused and glanced at the door to the kitchen. Sarah hadn’t joined them for breakfast yet. Should he wait for her or bring up his concerns while she was still in the other room? “Sarah.”

  Bo frowned. “Have you changed your mind? Do you not want me to marry her?”

  “Hell, no. I’m worried about her safety. Now that people know she lives here, other men like Nevada might show up looking for her.” Chase scooped up a bite and chewed. With his inability to protect her eating at his gut, the food turned to sawdust in his mouth.

  With a casual shrug, Bo broke off a piece of bread and used the corner to dab at the eggs, breaking the yolk. “I don’t see that as a problem. Especially after they learn she killed him.”

  “They may believe she can defend herself, but we both know how untrue the outcomes of that event are. The only reason she pulled the trigger was because she wanted to protect me.” Chase gritted his teeth, ashamed by his failure to secure her safety.

  “She still did the deed.” Bo’s nonchalant attitude didn’t fool anyone. His announcement yesterday after his boss left proved he had his own concerns.

  Unsure how to approach the subject, Chase rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Is that why you decided to take a few weeks off from work?”

  “I...”

  A knock on the door interrupted.

  “Oh, my God. Who could that be?” Sarah’s frightened voice rang from the kitchen doorway.

  Bo dropped his fork, rose, and stepped over the bench. “Easy, love. It’s probably your clothes.”

  “That’s what we thought yesterday and...” She rushed forward and grabbed his arm, stalling his progress into the other room.

  Rising quickly, Chase caught her around the waist and kept her from following Bo when he pulled away.

  “Don’t worry, sugar. I can handle whoever it is.” Bo continued to the door and paused with a reassuring smile.

  “Bo, please.” Her soft plea vibrated through Chase. Usually when she spoke those words, she wanted Bo to take her over the edge not when she was afraid of him simply answering the door.

  “Easy, babe. There’s no need to...” He didn’t finish before she spun around in the circle of his arms and buried her face in his chest.

  Stunned by her sudden display of emotions, he held her close and stroked her back, working to ease her fears. “Bo’s a Texas deputy. No one will take the chance of riling him.”

  “Sarah, it’s the man with your trunk.” Bo tossed over his shoulder and stepped outside to help the man.

  The front door clicked closed.

  She lifted her head. Eyes wide, her mouth open, she glanced over her shoulder.

  He read the uncertainty on her face and rushed to comfort her. “See, there’s no reason to be upset.”

  “How can we be sure that’s the only reason my clothes are being delivered today?”

  “And what other reason could a stranger have for coming to our door?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to see how she’d respond to the question. Was she worried a reporter or another suitor might visit?

  She stiffened and shifted out of his embrace. “I thought it might be someone else.”

  “Who?” He probed, wanting to get to the root of the issue.

  Biting her lips, she glanced again at the front door nervously and muttered, “Someone looking for a story.”

  Aware of her restlessness, he detected an increase in her anxiety. “Why would
that be a problem? You must have talked to all types of people after your husband died.”

  “Yes, but they weren’t crucifying me for...” She pulled back suddenly. Her eyes widened and her face paled. A panicked expression flashed across her face as if she’d divulged something she hadn’t intended.

  The front door squeaked.

  Bo stepped through the opening, juggling a large trunk in his arms. “I believe this is everything you had at Madeline’s, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I’ll finally have my own clothes to wear.” Sarah’s voice rang with a forced excitement before she bolted forward.

  “Wait.” Chase grabbed for her arm. His fingers brushed through thin air. With his hopes of detaining her gone, he stepped to the front door and flipped the lock before following them upstairs.

  He reviewed everything she’d told them since arriving and found several holes in her information. Yes, she grew up on a horse ranch, but why had she moved away from it? Her father being the only family she’d mentioned, how exactly had he died? And how did she meet her first husband?

  Determined to get answers, he paused in the doorway of Bo’s bedroom. Immediately, his gaze landed on Sarah’s ass as she bent over, tugging items from inside her trunk.

  His body heated. He fought back the need building in his groin. The loss of blood in his head sent him into a tailspin. To recover his stability, he purposely leaned back against the doorframe, killing time until he had a chance to question her.

  * * *

  Yanking her clothes free from the box, Sarah threw them on the bed. Her black corset, red robe, bloomers, button-up shoes, with each extraction, she cursed herself. How could she have reopened her sordid past with one stupid comment?

  Hell... She hadn’t even finished her sentence. Still, the misstep had peaked Chase’s interest.

  “Sugar, you have more clothes than any woman I know.” Bo stood at the end of the bed, fingering a light-yellow satin dress. A sly smile covered his lips and competed with the wicked amusement glowing in his eyes, his thoughts on stripping her out of the silky item apparent on his face. “You should wear this on the day we get married.”

  Neither the casual suggestion nor his erotic intentions distracted her from her thoughts. Instead, pictures of her sordid past flashed through her head, reminding her of the sniveling girl she’d been. How scared and afraid she’d been sitting in the dark root cellar, waiting for her father to tell her to come out...the endless hours of waiting. Damn, why hadn’t she disobeyed him? How could she have been such a coward?

  The nasty label had her thoughts jumping to her marriage to Micah. His parents had called her a leach, a wallflower who wouldn’t make an advantageous union to their son. Still, Micah hadn’t listened to their grumbling and had married her.

  Because he loved her?

  No. He wanted her inheritance, which gave him her land and every one of her father’s Steel Dust horses. Under his clever management, he managed to amass a fortune. If he hadn’t gone into business with his family, she’d be a wealthy widow.

  Instead, they’d claimed he owed them money. Therefore, all his assets were theirs, leaving her without anything. To be fair, Micah had liked to gamble, but they still could have given her more than just Pretty Boy.

  They might not have liked the idea of relinquishing the horse, but his papers had only her name on them.

  She frowned at the drastic turns her life had taken in the last eight years and snuck a peek over her shoulder.

  Chase stood in the bedroom doorway like a wooden statue. His arms crossed over his chest. With a stiff expression, his mouth lay in a straight line. His intense gaze burned into her, accusing her of the same cowardliness as her childhood neighbors had when they learned of her father’s death.

  Continuing to toss everything out of the chest, she stopped when she reached the old newspaper clippings and other legal documents hidden at the bottom. She fingered them and gathered her nerve. Then, with a flourish she didn’t feel, she spun around to face them.

  Noticing Bo still standing by the end of the bed, she turned her gaze to Chase.

  He lifted an inquiring brow.

  “If you want to discover every ugly detail...” She swept her hand down and indicated the pieces of paper in her trunk. “Then read it for yourself.”

  “Read what?” Bo glanced between her and his brother, a frown forming on his lips. “What’s going on between you two?”

  “She’s been hiding something from us.” Chase stalked forward and captured her wrist. He held her close. His dark eyes met hers briefly before his focus shifted to the inside of the trunk.

  “Easy there, Chase.” Bo cupped a hand over his brother’s shoulder and smiled at her. “Let’s get the facts before we start jumping to conclusions.”

  “He won’t be any happier when he learns what a coward I am,” Sarah mumbled.

  Chase’s gaze jumped back to her, and he suddenly released her wrist to wrap his arms around her waist. “Who’d say such things about you?”

  She lowered her head and stared at the top button of his blue, cotton shirt. Her heart sank. Once he learned the truth, he’d no longer see her as a desirable woman. Instead, she’d become the weakling who couldn’t even help her own father, who allowed her husband to sell her off to the highest bidder.

  Yes, she knew Micah charged the men he permitted to touch her a hefty price. But what other choice did she have? Tell him no, after everything he’d done for her?

  When her father died, no one had wanted anything to do with her. Hell, some had even accused her of having hired someone to murder him. Alone, lost, and struggling to keep the ranch going, she’d turned to the first person who’d shown her any kindness.

  Micah not only treated her like a desirable woman, but he offered her a veil of respectability. As his wife, she no longer had the job of managing the ranch. He took care of everything, the same way her father had. He made no demands on her at the beginning of their marriage, saying they needed time to become acquainted.

  “Wait, it says here your father was murdered.” Bo answered before Sarah could come up with a reply to Chase’s question. Waving a newspaper clipping at him, Bo handed it to his brother before bending back over the chest.

  Her heart pounding, she shoved her hands against Chase’s chest, anxious to get away. His grip didn’t loosen. “Chase, let me go.”

  “Not on your life.” He glanced up from the article and his black eyes burned with determination. “Explain.”

  Uncertain how he’d respond to her news, she swallowed and wiggled in his embrace. “I, uh, was there.”

  He tossed the thin bit of paper back in the trunk and locked his other arm around her. “Go on.”

  Nervous, she worried her teeth over her lip and forced out. “At the ranch on the day he was killed... in the, uh, root cellar.”

  She examined his face, searching for a hint as to his thoughts. He didn’t appear disgusted by the revelation that she hadn’t come to her father’s aid. Taking his reaction as a sign he might understand her predicament, she drew in a fortifying breath. “He came in the house to retrieve his gun when he noticed two men riding down the lane to our house. He said he didn’t like the look of them. My daddy tried his best to keep strangers away from me. Even though, I was almost twenty.”

  “Smart man,” Bo grumbled from where he sat on the bed, reading the other papers from the trunk.

  “He just wanted to... uh.” The words backed up in her throat. She finished with, “I should’ve done a better job of protecting him.”

  Tears blurred her vision. She blinked and stared at Chase’s chest. A heavy burden of guilt washed over her. She wobbled and stiffened her spine to stay erect. Her body swayed, knocking her chest against his. She curled her fingers into his shirt.

  After a long pause, he prompted, “Go on with your story.”

  Drawing in a steadying breath, she admitted, “He opened the root cellar door and told me to hide in there until he came back.”
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  “And how long was that?” Again, Bo spoke, asking the questions while Chase stood in front of her, stone silent.

  Unable to handle the repulsion she knew she’d find on their faces, she kept her gaze locked on the buttons of his shirt. “Hours. It was so long I fell asleep and didn’t come out until the next day. Then I found...”

  Pictures of the cabin in shambles flashed through her mind. Chairs overturned, their extra food gone, and other supplies missing. She clenched her jaw shut, hoping to keep the image of her father’s dead body lying face down in the dirt out of her head. God, just three steps from their front door.

  Chase drew her close, running his hands soothingly over her back. “They killed him, didn’t they?