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“It worked.” Her fingers lock into my shirt, pulling it tighter with her grip. “I didn’t know where I was going to go, but if it hadn’t gone like it did, you know I would’ve had to leave.”
I twist, setting my lips against her hair. “And I never would have seen you again.”
“Maybe it would have been for the best. I hate to think of any of you getting wrapped up in this disaster.” She pushes away from me to free herself enough to look at my face. “I mean it, I can’t let you get hurt, and people close to me seem to get hurt.”
She looks like she’s planning to get up, but talk like this, it doesn’t make me want to go much of anywhere. It makes me want to keep her close, lock her in her cabin, anything but let her leave. Any minute now, I’ll hear the rest of the wranglers walking into the barn, looking to start the day. It won’t take long to discover us like this, and I know the teasing won’t ever stop. Like one of my daydreams from my teenage years, at some point I have to wake up. My pointer finger hooks around her auburn hair, pressing it back to loop it behind her ear. If I had the bravery, I’d tell her how beautiful she is, even with smudged make up and hair that looks like she slept against a barn wall. But while it’s easy to dream about changing things between us, it’s a whole different story in the morning light.
Curving my arm around her shoulder, I pull her back against me. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll take care of you. No one is taking you away, Sunny.”
She settles into her spot like it was carved out to make room for her particular shape. “That’s the problem though, Rhett.” Her hand settles back in on my chest. “I’m not Sunny.”
I press her closer. I get the feeling that if I asked her right now, she’d tell me everything. Her name, her past, her whole story. But she’d only be telling me so she’d know she could run without making me feel abandoned. I don’t want that. I don’t want any part of it, which means there’s only one thing left to say.
“I don’t care what your name is. You’ll always be Sunny to me.”
She doesn’t fight me on it, instead she relaxes against me, content to be in my arms pretending the future doesn’t exist.
I find myself looking forward to Nick’s bonfire with more anticipation than normal. No, it’s not a date. And yes, I’m bringing my brother and the rest of the crew, but I’m bringing Sunny as well. After our Tuesday night dramatics with Chief’s health problems, I haven’t gotten much time with her. My work is never done, and by the time I make it back to the bunkhouse each night, she’s already left for her cabin to sleep. By Friday, the day of the party, I’m itching to just get a few minutes with her.
I let the guys off early, claiming it’s for their sake, but I want to look good for once. It may not be a date, but I’m picking Sunny up at her cabin at seven. I know she’s going to look amazing, and I’d like to at least try to rise to the occasion.
“Hey, Rhett?” Getty sticks his head in my office where I’m getting the last issues for next week squared away. “I’m gonna stick around and clean some of my tack while I’ve got the time. Old guys like me don’t have much need for bonfires and such, but an early day like this, I don’t mind catching up on a few things.”
“Sure, Getty. That’s fine.” I go back to my work, feeling focused, but Getty lingers in the doorway. “Is there something else?”
“No,” he grins and shakes his head a bit, “it’s just nice to see you happy. You’re whistling, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you whistle at work. This must be some party to have you in this good of a mood.”
I scratch my head to hide my embarrassment. “Just a good day, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well, I hope it’s a good night too.” He winks and leaves before I have a chance to say anything more. I should have corrected him. Of course, I’m excited to have some time with Sunny. We’re friends and I feel like I haven’t seen her in days. But I’m not planning anything. Nothing will change tonight.
The thought dampens my spirits a bit, but it’s good to temper expectations sometimes. In my experience, reality rarely lives up to my dreams. But I never seem to regret time spent with Sunny.
“Hey, Rhett.” Getty calls from outside the barn. I might ignore him, but the urgency in his voice tells me he’s not wondering where I stored the saddle soap. “Can you get out here?”
I keep my notebook and recordbook in my hand, headed for the direction of his voice. “Getty, what’s going on?” But he doesn’t answer, and it only quickens my steps. “Getty, why are you calli—"
Coming around the front side of the barn, I find Getty standing with a man. He’s not a cop, at least not as far as I can tell. White shirt and black slacks, I’d worry he’s a fed, but knowing about Whitlock and Stolls, I have to wonder if he’s another member of the private security sent by Sunny’s stepmother. But as I’m about to brush him off as harmless, I note the sidearm, a Ruger by the looks of it.
“Can I help you?” I try to maintain a casual stance, but staring this man down, I can’t seem to remember what that looks like.
“Agent Murphy. FBI.” He flashes a badge at me, but I don’t get a good look. Dean said the last guys said they were cops when they introduced themselves at the diner. They were lying then, he could be lying now.
“FBI?” Getty frowns. “That sounds serious.”
Agent Murphy nods, once, curt, to the point. “I’m afraid it is. I’m looking for this woman, I don’t know if you’ve seen her around.”
From his shirt pocket he pulls a photo of Sunny. Her long blonde hair catches the wind in the picture, a demure smile pulls at her lips, but she doesn’t give it up. Strange the way it doesn’t look like the woman we all know as Sunny, with her dark red hair always pulled back in a braid, smile spread wide across her cheeks. The photo reminds me of the girl I saw on the beach, but nothing more.
“Sorry.” I shrug. “Doesn’t look familiar.”
Getty joins suit. “Pretty girl, but we’d remember a face like that.”
Agent Murphy pushes it closer. “Are you sure? Quite a few people have mentioned seeing a new woman on your staff. And the sheriff said your father called in to report a woman causing trouble out here on the ranch.”
I shake my head. “Are you sure they mean this ranch? Maybe they meant the Coyle place about ten miles up.”
His thin lips tighten. My heart races faster with every lie I tell. Agent Murphy inhales slowly through his nose. “If you don’t have anything to hide, do you mind if I look around? It’s a big place. She could be hiding somewhere, and you’d never know it.” He tilts his head to the side, but his expression doesn’t change. “You wouldn’t want that would you? A suspected serial killer hiding out around here.”
