Killer Cowboy. Carla Cassidy
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All I ever dreamed of was becoming a famous artist. That’s what I was working toward before I came here. I owned a small shop that sold my artwork along with some other items.”
“Was it successful?”
She hesitated before replying and her eyes darkened slightly. “I was struggling to make ends meet. I think with more time and money it might have been a real success. I never dreamed I’d wind up on a ranch in Oklahoma.”
“Were you close to your aunt Cass?”
“Not really, although I was named after her. She came to New York a couple of times to visit my parents and when I was about ten we came out here to visit. But that was about it. That’s why I was so surprised when she left me this place.” She paused to take a drink of water and then continued, “Aunt Cass was kind of the outcast of the family. My parents are very New York. They’re both criminal defense lawyers and extremely driven.”
For the next half an hour they ate and she talked about her parents and her life before Holiday ranch. He laughed as she related stories about quirky characters who had come into her shop.
“You know, Bitterroot isn’t without its own quirky characters,” he said.
“I already know that Halena loves to wear funky hats and occasionally pinches some cowboy’s butt.”
He laughed. “That she does, but I’ll bet you didn’t know that Leroy Atkinson has his entire house lined inside with aluminum foil so space aliens can’t see him or hear his thoughts. He also believes aliens visit his ranch on numerous occasions.”
Her eyes lit with suppressed laughter. “Is that for real or are you making it up?”
“I don’t make stuff up,” he replied. “About twice a month Leroy calls me out to his ranch to see evidence that a spaceship has landed on his property. I never see anything other than some tamped-down grass where a cow rested through the night. Actually, my parents lived next to Leroy when I was a kid. Leroy was like a second father to me. He calls me out to his ranch because he’s lonely.”
“That’s sad,” she said. By this time their plates were empty. “Would you like an after-dinner cup of coffee?” she asked. She stood and a spark of fading sunlight danced in the strands of her curly blond hair.
The desire to touch the soft-looking curls itched his palms. “Thanks, but I should probably be on my way.” He needed to get out of here. Spending time with her had been far too pleasurable.
He got up from the table. “Thanks for the great meal.”
“Thank you for sharing it with me. Sometimes this big old house gets a bit lonely,” she replied.
He headed toward the back door, needing to escape her. Without the smell of the food, he became acutely aware of her lilac and vanilla scent that wafted in the air. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller, more oppressive.
He turned to tell her goodbye and she was right there, standing mere inches from him. Her lips were slightly parted as if anticipating a kiss, and even before he recognized his own intention, he drew her to him and covered her mouth with his.
Her lips were welcome heat and sweet softness. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought she’d pull away, but instead she leaned into him and opened her mouth a little more in invitation. Desire suffused him as he deepened the kiss, and their tongues swirled together in a heated dance.
He might have kissed her forever if she hadn’t released a throaty little moan. It made him want to pick her up and carry her into the house and to the nearest bedroom.
And that emotion was what shot some sense through his head. He dropped his arms to his waist and stepped back from her. “Sorry, that was a huge mistake.”
“A mistake?” Her winsome blue eyes searched his features in puzzlement. “Why was it a mistake?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets to stymie them from reaching out for her again. “I shouldn’t have kissed you because before this case is over I think you’re probably going to hate me.”
“Why would I have a reason to hate you?”
“Because I believe one of your cowboys is guilty of not only killing Sam, but also those seven young men who were found under the shed. One of them is guilty and I’m not going to stop until I prove it.”
He didn’t wait for her response, but instead turned and went out the door.
Cassie was once again seated at the kitchen table the next afternoon when Dillon’s car pulled into the drive. She sat up straighter in anticipation of him coming inside, but he headed straight to the barn.
She tamped down her disappointment that he hadn’t come in to say hello. He wasn’t here to visit, she reminded herself. He had a job to do, but there was no question that his kiss had both thrilled and confused her.
That kiss. Even now just thinking about it made her toes curl. She’d spent half the night replaying it over and over again in her head. Between the kiss and his parting words she felt as if he’d caressed her heart and then slapped her upside the head.
Her phone had rung for most of the day, neighbors and friends checking in with her and wanting to know the latest on the murder investigation. She told them nothing because she knew nothing except that Dillon was convinced one of her men was a monster.
Today she couldn’t even be too mad at him for his beliefs, despite the fact that she found the idea completely ludicrous. That didn’t take away from the fact that his kiss had shaken her to her core.
It had been over two years ago since she’d had a relationship with a man. She and Mark had dated for eight months before he’d finally broken up with her. She’d been surprised to discover that she’d actually been relieved by the split.
At the time she’d been consumed with her shop, working long hours there, and when she wasn’t behind the counter she was in her studio apartment painting. She hadn’t put in the time or energy to make her relationship work.
What they had shared was basically a physical thing without any real emotional tie. At the end he’d wanted more from her, but she hadn’t been willing to take it any deeper.
She cast another glance out the window. It was time to stop sitting around and brooding and instead she went to work fixing a big pot of chili. The day had been gray and cool, perfect for chili with corn bread.
As she worked she occasionally drifted to the window to peer out. Dillon’s car was still in the drive but the only people she saw were two of her men on horseback in the distance.
Maybe he’d stay for dinner again tonight and maybe he’d kiss her again. Probably not, since he’d told her their first kiss was a mistake. It certainly hadn’t felt like a mistake to her. It had felt wonderfully right.
What did she think she was doing, wishing for another kiss from him? The last thing she wanted was a relationship that might make it even more difficult for her to make the decision to stay or leave here.
And she had to make that decision within the next few weeks. If she was going to sell the ranch and head back to New York City she wanted to do it before the first snow flew.
She jumped as a knock fell on the back door. She turned around from the stove to see Sawyer standing on the small stoop. She gestured him inside with a smile. Sawyer Quincy was one of her favorites of all the men. The tall, lean man had an easy way about him and was always quick to laugh.
“I was just on my way into town to pick up some things for Cookie and I thought I’d check in and see if you needed anything,” he said.
This wasn’t the first time Sawyer had gone out of his way to do something nice for her. “Thanks, Sawyer, but I think I’m good for now.”