Promise from a Cowboy. C.J. Carmichael
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everything had changed. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. “Like I was saying, I had a visit from a private investigator from Los Angeles last week.”
“Yeah?” B.J. sounded cautious.
“The investigator—her name is June Savage—was hired by a wealthy man named Morgan McBride eighteen years ago to find his runaway teenage son, Travis.”
B.J. twisted, spreading out his left arm along the back of the seat. She had his full attention now. “So we’re talking about our last year of high school?”
He’d done the math and come up with the right answer.
“Yes. Savage never did find the kid—well, not exactly a kid, he was nineteen years old when he went missing. But a few weeks ago a watch came up for sale on eBay. The watch was a McBride heirloom that hadn’t been seen since Travis ran away.”
“This is sounding complicated.”
She agreed. “Savage went to talk to the man who was selling the watch. Turns out he’d bought it at a pawn shop in Lewistown. Want to guess the year?”
“Our graduation year?”
“Right on the first try.”
B.J. frowned. “Are you saying this kid was the man who died in the fire?”
“Might be.”
“I’ve always wondered who he was.” B.J.’s voice sounded raw.
Savannah nodded. So had she. “Finding that watch caused June Savage to reopen her investigation. Previously she’d been concentrating her search in Mexico, since there had been signs pointing in that direction. This was the first time they considered Montana.”
“Montana is one thing. How did Savage narrow it down to Coffee Creek?”
“She was thorough. A search of death records for the year in question turned up the John Doe who died in that fire on Silver Creek Ranch. When she discovered that the body was roughly the same age and size as the missing McBride kid, she drove down to check it out.”
“Hell.”
“Yes. You realize, of course, that your aunt’s barn is less than an hour’s drive from Lewistown—where the watch was pawned. Here’s where it gets really interesting.” She paused a second. “The watch was sold to the pawn shop the day after the boy died.”
“How is that possible?”
“It must have been stolen. But less than twenty-four hours had passed between the time he ran away from his home in California and his death in the loft of that barn.” Which left a really short window of time when the watch could have been stolen.
B.J. swore softly. “Do you think they’ll exhume the body?”
“Shouldn’t need to. They ought to have dental records and a DNA sample on file. I’ve put through some paperwork to see if we’ve got a match. If we do, I’m guessing a state investigator will be appointed to reopen the investigation.”
“I see.”
Savannah studied his eyes, looking for more than he’d given her so far. But B.J. didn’t say anything further. Finally she’d had it.
“Damn it, B.J. Don’t you think it’s time you told me what really happened that night?”
Chapter Two
“Why?” B.J. felt sick and angry all at the same time. He’d thought about that vagrant a lot in the passing years. Who was he? What had he been doing in a barn that was so far off the beaten track, most people in Coffee Creek didn’t even know it existed?
He’d assumed the guy must be homeless. And that he had no family. It seemed logical, since no one had ever come looking for him.
But if he turned out to be this Travis McBride, then he had been someone’s son. And he’d been missed.
The pain the McBrides must have gone through just didn’t bear thinking about.
And now Savannah was on his case. “You never asked me what happened before. Never wanted to hear my side.”
She looked shocked. “That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
She shook her head. “I had to come to the sheriff’s office to pick up Hunter. I heard the reports you gave to Sheriff Smith. Your parents were there, too. We got the whole story from both you and Hunter.”
Yeah. She’d heard the “official” stories. But she’d never asked him privately about what had happened. He’d expected Savannah, of all people, would understand that he would do what he could to protect her brother. He’d done it for her, because he loved her and knew how much she worried about Hunter.
But that had been a long time ago. They were different people now.
“Right. And what makes you think I have anything to add, eighteen years after the fact?”
Savannah’s gaze faltered. She glanced down at her hands, which were clenched in fists on her lap, then back at him. “It was just a hunch.”
He shrugged. “I hear you’re a good sheriff. You should be proud of that. But you and me—we really don’t have anything to talk about. If you want to rehash what happened that night, maybe you should track down your brother.”
* * *
SAVANNAH WATCHED AS B.J. got out of her truck and started walking away. She felt empty inside, drained and tired. It had taken a lot of emotional energy to talk to him again after so many years.
He’d been so closed to her. And mad. She hadn’t expected the anger.
She glanced at her reflection in the side mirror. She looked rough. It had been a long week. Some vacation. She’d booked the time off to drive out to Oregon in the hopes of meeting up with her brother.
Besides questioning him about the fire, she’d hoped to reassure herself that he’d cut down on his drinking and was putting aside a portion of his winnings the way she’d advised him to do the last time she’d seen him.
Which had been about six months ago now.
The fact that he hadn’t shown up as expected should not have surprised and disappointed her.
Yet it had.
She knew most everyone in the world had given up on her brother. But she couldn’t. Maybe it was because they were twins and shared a special bond? But no—she and Hunter had never been especially close. How could they be when she’d always felt more like his mother than his sister?
She shifted in her seat, and now, instead of her own reflection in the mirror, she could see B.J. He had turned around to look at her. For a second their eyes met. Then he shook his head and resumed walking away.
She’d known he was registered at the Wild Rogue, too, when she’d made her plans. Maybe all along it had been him she’d wanted to see...?
“Could I really be that stupid?” She jerked the truck into gear and started to drive. It was a long way back to Coffee Creek and she had only two days of vacation left.
* * *
B.J. DIDN’T GO for the steak dinner he’d been craving. Instead, he sat in his truck and thought. He had a lot on his mind.
His brother Brock, how much he missed him and what a loss his death had been for the family ranch.
The dead guy in the loft—if Savannah was right, he now had a name and a family that was mourning his death, the way all of them were mourning Brock.
And Savannah.
She’d made him angry tonight, but their conversation had also woken up a longing deep inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He didn’t