Her Montana Man. Laurie Paige
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start with the woman’s secret life.”
Lips that had once kissed her thousands of times thinned to a straight line. “What about your life?” he asked in a soft tone that sent shivers along her neck.
She met his gaze that contained no signs of welcome for her in it. “What about it?”
“Why did you come back to Montana?”
Smiling slightly, she answered truthfully, “I always loved the mountains.”
He studied her for another ten seconds, then walked off, disappearing around the house. A minute later she heard his vehicle on the gravel as he left.
Peering through the trees at another house no more than a football field away, she wondered why he’d bothered to drive. He lived over there, just across the creek that fed icy mountain water into the lake. Kelly had said it was a marvelous house, meant for a family.
Chelsea sighed as gloom settled over her. An innocent life had been snuffed out when the librarian was killed. The violence of deliberately inflicted death disturbed her. The person hadn’t cared about the child at all.
Laying a hand over her abdomen, she recalled her own plans. She’d assumed she would have a home and family. She’d thought Pierce would be the man in her life. Instead she had an apartment and no husband or children in sight.
Some things were never meant to be. She managed a smile at life’s ironies, reviewed the report and went inside before dark.
“Chelsea, I can’t believe you’re here!” Kelly Dalton Brenner threw her arms around her best friend and gave her a bone-shattering hug late Thursday afternoon. “I’m so glad.”
Chelsea returned Kelly’s bear hug. They’d met in medical school and had been assigned the same cadaver to autopsy. The horrifying—at the time—experience had made them friends forever. Now Kelly was a family physician with a busy practice in a large county with few doctors. Her husband, Jim Brenner, was a hunting and fishing guide and owned the local sporting goods store.
“I’m glad, too. This is a beautiful place.”
Kelly tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “Bet you couldn’t sleep—not enough noise. All the city dudes complain about that the first couple of nights.”
“Actually, there was too much racket. Those crickets and tree frogs kept up a chorus all night. One of them was definitely off tune.”
“Come on. It’s nearly time to eat.” Kelly pointed toward the house barely visible through the trees lining the creek.
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to come?” Chelsea hated the uncertainty that plagued her. With it was an undefined sense of excitement brought on by more than the prospect of a Fourth of July picnic and fire works by the lake.
“Of course. The whole town is invited.”
That news didn’t make her feel more comfortable. She was hesitant to see Pierce again. Perhaps because her dreams last night had been so graphic. She’d woken once with the feel of his lips on hers, so real she’d had to touch her mouth with her fingers to be sure it hadn’t happened.
“Bring a jacket. It’ll be chilly by the time we have the fireworks,” Kelly advised.
Chelsea went inside, clipped a fanny pack on and stuffed a jacket inside it. With a straw hat to protect her from the sun, she rejoined her friend and set off along the lakeside path.
Her mouth was dry by the time they covered the two or three hundred feet between her cabin and Pierce’s home. The scent of sizzling meat and the sound of children’s laughter filled the air. Volleyball, baseball and a game of horseshoes were in progress. Several people swam or rode in paddleboats about the lake.
And a good time was had by all, she thought, mocking her nervousness as she and Kelly approached the cooking area.
Pierce and his brother-in-law, Jim, manned the huge barbecue grill, where steaks, chicken, hot dogs and hamburgers cooked.
“Hey, about time,” Jim called out. “We need help.”
“What should we do?” Kelly asked, volunteering for duty. She grabbed an apron and tossed one to Chelsea.
Chelsea had no choice but to smile, don the apron and get to work. Jim assigned her to slicing tomatoes and onions while Kelly set out condiments and bags of chips.
Pierce had been laughing and talking when the women arrived. Now he was silent. Chelsea felt like an intruder.
“Hey, Doc,” a male voice called. Holt Tanner separated himself from a crowd of friends and came over. “I heard you finished the autopsy yesterday.”
Chelsea admitted she had.
“Will the report be ready tomorrow?” he asked.
Around Pierce’s age, the lawman shared the same intense intelligence and curiosity that Pierce had displayed about the case yesterday.
“Yes. In fact, it’s ready now. I printed it out this morning,” she told him.
“Great. Let’s go get—”
“You’re off duty this evening,” Pierce broke into the conversation. “The report can wait until tomorrow.”
The quick warning glance he flashed Chelsea told her he didn’t want the news about Harriet Martel to be disclosed today.
“Holt, how about meeting in my office at nine in the morning?” He flicked another glance her way. “Dr. Kearns, will you be available?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’ll discuss it then.”
“I’d better tell the sheriff,” Holt said, peering around the lake. “He’s interested in the case and would probably want to attend the meeting.”
“I don’t want anyone there but you and Chel— Dr. Kearns.”
Deputy Tanner stared at the mayor for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be there. See you, Doc.”
Chelsea had met the lawman Monday afternoon when she arrived in Rumor. He’d told her of the arrangements for her work at the morgue and directed her to the lake house Kelly had put at her disposal. Chelsea had liked the deputy’s no-nonsense directness and his easy mannerisms.
After he ambled off, Pierce looked her way. “Is the cabin satisfactory? You have everything you need?”
“Yes, it’s a lovely place. I’m quite happy there.”
“Good. Call the office if something doesn’t work. They’ll send a man over.”
She realized the cabin must belong to the resort, rather than to Kelly and Jim as she’d thought, and therefore to Pierce. He was her host for the duration of her vacation.
“Thank you,” she said, and smiled graciously while her heart jumped in alarm. This could get complicated.
Pierce gave her a keen glance as if noting the lack of real warmth in her thanks, as if he knew she wouldn’t have accepted accommodations there had she known it belonged to him. His gaze hardened.
Kelly gave him a poke in the ribs. “I hate to mention this, oh great chef, but the hot dogs are burning.”
He moved the blackened ones to the back of the grill. “Ring the dinner bell, smart mouth,” he ordered.
Chelsea smiled at the teasing between the two. Unlike her family, the Daltons were closely knit. Their father had died when Pierce was thirteen. He and Kelly had pitched in to help their mom make ends meet on her housekeeping earnings. Kelly and Pierce had made being poor sound like an adventure. Chelsea knew it must have been hard.
Her own family had been split by divorce when she was four. Each parent had remarried and had two other children, leaving her the odd man out in each family.
Poor,