Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch. B.J. Daniels

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      Dear God, what was in the well? Who was in the well?

      Hud glanced back at her, his blue eyes drilling her to the spot where she stood, all the past burning there like a hot blue flame.

      But instead of heat, she shivered as if a cold wind blew up from the bottom of the well. A cold that could chill in ways they hadn’t yet imagined as Hud straightened and walked back to her.

      “Looks like remains of something, all right,” Hud said, giving her that same noncommittal look he had when he’d driven up.

      The wind whipped her long dark hair around her face. She took a painful breath and let it go, fighting the wind, fighting a weakness in herself that made her angry and scared. “They’re human bones, aren’t they?”

      Hud dragged his hat off and raked a hand through his hair, making her fingers tingle remembering the feel of that thick sun-streaked mop of his. “Won’t be certain until we get the bones to the lab.”

      She looked away, angry at him on so many levels that it made it hard to be civil. “I know there are human remains down there. Warren said he saw a human skull. So stop lying to me.”

      Hud’s eyes locked with hers and she saw anger spark in all that blue. He didn’t like being called a liar. But then, she could call him much worse if she got started.

      “From what I can see, the skull appears to be human. Satisfied?” he said.

      She turned away from the only man who had ever satisfied her. She tried not to panic. If having Hud back—let alone the interim marshal—wasn’t bad enough, there was a body in the well on her family ranch. She tried to assure herself that the bones could have been in the well for years. The well had been dug more than a hundred years ago. Who knew how long the bones had been there?

      But the big question, the same one she knew Hud had to be asking, was why the bones were there.

      “I’m going to need to cordon this area off,” he said. “I would imagine with it being calving season, you have some cattle moving through here?”

      “No cattle in here to worry about,” Warren said.

      Hud frowned and glanced out across the ranch. “I didn’t notice any cattle on the way in, either.”

      Dana felt his gaze shift to her. She pulled a hand from her pocket to brush a strand of her hair from her face before looking at him. The words stuck in her throat and she was grateful to Warren when he said, “The cattle were all auctioned this fall to get the ranch ready to sell.”

      Hud looked stunned, his gaze never leaving hers. “You wouldn’t sell the ranch.”

      She turned her face away from him. He was the one person who knew just what this ranch meant to her and yet she didn’t want him to see that selling it was breaking her heart just as he had. She could feel his gaze on her as if waiting for her to explain.

      When she didn’t, he said, “I have to warn you, Dana, this investigation might hold up a sale.”

      She hadn’t thought of that. She hadn’t thought of anything but the bones—and her added bad luck in finding out that Hud was acting marshal.

      “Word is going to get out, if it hasn’t already,” he continued. “Once we get the bones up, we’ll know more, but this investigation could take some time.”

      “You do whatever you have to do, Hud.” She hadn’t said his name out loud in years. It sounded odd and felt even stranger on her tongue. Amazing that such a small word could hurt so much.

      She turned and walked back to Warren’s pickup, surprised her legs held her up. Her mind was reeling. There was a body in a well on her ranch? And Hud Savage was back after all this time of believing him long gone? She wasn’t sure which shocked or terrified her more.

      She didn’t hear him behind her until he spoke.

      “I was sorry to hear about your mother,” he said so close she felt his warm breath on her neck and caught a whiff of his aftershave. The same kind he’d used when he was hers.

      Without turning, she gave a nod of her head, the wind burning her eyes, and jerked open the pickup door, sending a glance to Warren across the hood that she was more than ready to leave.

      As she climbed into the truck and started to pull the door shut behind her, Hud dropped one large palm over the top of the door to keep it from closing. “Dana…”

      She shot him a look she thought he might still remember, the same one a rattler gives right before it strikes.

      “I just wanted to say…happy birthday.”

      She tried not to show her surprise—or her pleasure—that he’d remembered. That he had, though, made it all the worse. She swallowed and looked up at him, knifed with that old familiar pain, the kind that just never went away no matter how hard you fought it.

      “Dana, listen—”

      “I’m engaged.” The lie was out before she could call it back.

      Hud’s eyebrows up. “To anyone I know?”

      She took guilty pleasure from the pain she heard in his voice, saw in his face. “Lanny Rankin.”

      “Lanny? The lawyer?” Hud didn’t sound surprised, just contemptuous. He must have heard that she’d been dating Lanny. “He still saving up for the ring?”

      “What?”

      “An engagement ring. You’re not wearing one.” He motioned to her ring finger.

      Silently she swore at her own stupidity. She’d wanted to hurt him and at the same time keep him at a safe distance. Unfortunately she hadn’t given a thought to the consequences.

      “I just forgot to put it on this morning,” she said.

      “Oh, you take it off at night?”

      Another mistake. When Hud had put the engagement ring on her finger so many years ago now, she’d sworn she’d never take it off.

      “If you must know,” she said, “the diamond got caught in my glove, so I took it off to free it and must have laid it down.”

      His brows shot up again.

      Why didn’t she just shut up? “I was in a hurry this morning. Not that it’s any of your business.”

      “You’re right,” he agreed. “Must be a big diamond to get stuck in a glove.” Not like the small chip he’d been able to afford for her, his tone said.

      “Look, as far as I’m concerned, you and I have nothing to say to each other.”

      “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry into your personal life.” A muscle bunched in his jaw and he took on that all-business marshal look again. “I’d appreciate it if you and Warren wouldn’t mention what you found in the well to anyone. I know it’s going to get out, but I’d like to try to keep a lid on it as long as we can.”

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