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“My daughters are her nieces,” he replied. “But I have other questions right now.”
She nodded as a look of dread washed over her. He’d seen the look before whenever he talked about the possibility of life after high school in Cider Creek.
“I’ve been trying to remember what happened and have been drawing a blank,” she admitted.
“Do you know why you were near my property?” he asked.
“Nope,” she sighed in a way that detailed her frustration. “I assumed they brought me here. Whoevertheyare.”
“Any recent fights with anyone?” he asked. “Does anyone wish you harm?”
She caught his gaze and held it.
“If you’re asking if I have enemies who would knock me out, abduct me and then hold me in a random building, then I couldn’t say,” she stated. “I hope I don’t know anyone who is capable of this kind of cruelty.”
He lowered his head when he said, “Sorry to hear about your grandfather.”
“Don’t be on my account,” she countered. “You, of all people, should know Duncan Hayes and I weren’t close.”
“Still,” he continued, “it’s a loss.”
Reese shrugged as she said, “I guess so.”
When did she get so cold? Then again, their history suggested she’d been heartless since the end of high school. Did anyone really ever change?
Chapter Three
Duncan Hayes was the reason Reese and her siblings couldn’t get out of Cider Creek fast enough. The only hitch back then had been the thought of leaving Darren. At eighteen, she thought she was being smart about her life, putting her future before her heart. She’d looked up the statistics on successful marriages of high-school sweethearts. They weren’t good. Plus, she didn’t think she would be good at marriage, anyway.
Besides, sticking around Cider Creek was never an option for her. Darren had family to think about and their ranch needed him to stay on to survive.
“Why would someone bring me here?” she asked, suddenly wondering if this incident could somehow be tied back to him.
He shrugged.
“I haven’t seen or heard from you in years,” he pointed out. The slight edge to his tone suggested he didn’t care for the tables being turned.
“I’m trying to look at this from every angle,” she elaborated. “Please don’t think I’m attacking you in any way.”
Darren sat there for a long, thoughtful moment. He always got quiet when conflicting thoughts battled for control. “We’re good.”
No. They weren’t. The two of them were anything but on good terms. Darren was being kind enough to help her despite their rocky past, and she appreciated him for his generosity. They’d left on bad terms all those years ago and the set to his jaw, along with those piercing eyes when he looked at her, told her where they stood. He was tolerating her because he lived by a code that said he helped anyone in need. Ranchers were always there for each other. Too bad her grandfather hadn’t been there for his family in the way he had been for the community. Watching everyone admire the man who’d made everyone’s lives miserable had been a tough pill to swallow. Folks in town revered Duncan, and the rest of the family had put up a believable front that they were a strong unit. Only those precious few who got close to her or one of her siblings learned the truth. Duncan was a piece of work. The first word that came to mind wascontrolling. The second would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap when she was little.
Anger burned through her chest. Why couldn’t she block out her grandfather instead of the last few hours?
Darren’s cell buzzed at around the same time the front door swung open. A look of hesitation crossed his features before he went for his phone. A blonde woman walked in the door as he studied the screen. He glanced up, then nodded and hitched his free thumb toward Reese.
“I’m Dr. Larson,” she said, making a straight line toward Reese. The doctor could best be described as pretty. She was also tiny, but there was nothing delicate about her mannerisms. Shoulders square and stiff, starched shirt tucked into neatly pressed navy slacks, everything about her said she was put-together and serious. Her hair was slicked back in a ponytail that fell past her shoulders. Powder-blue eyes and pink lipstick softened her look a couple of notches, making her seem more approachable.
“Reese Hayes,” she said as she took the outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The good doctor glossed right over Reese’s comment. Those blue eyes looked Reese up and down as if she was sizing her up for a coffin.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Darren said.
The quick nod and chilly reception gave Reese the impression these two were more than just friends.
“Tell me what happened and where it hurts,” Dr. Larson said, setting her bag down on the floor as she perched on the edge of the solid oak coffee table. She kept one hand on the handle. A stethoscope hung around her neck. Black ballet flats peeked out of the bottom of her pant legs.
