Secret of Deadman's Ravine. B.J. Daniels
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“I heard she became an interior designer.” Arlene lifted a brow as if to say what a waste of time and education that was. “You can bet some man broke her heart and she came running home with her tail tucked between her legs.”
Glen wrote on his notepad a new headline: Jilted, Whitehorse Woman Returns Home Only To Die Alone In Missouri Breaks.
Violet slid a plate with a large piece of coconut-custard pie in front of him and sank into a chair as if the chore had spent all of her energy.
He glanced at her as he picked up the fork. “Thanks.” She stared back with large, liquid, colorless eyes, but with just enough expectation in them to make him nervous. It hit him then that she would want to get married even more than her mother wanted her to. Marriage would be the only way to make her mother stop trying to hoist her off on men. Any man.
As he took a bite of pie, he noticed Arlene had stopped talking and was staring toward the front door.
A man in his early thirties who Glen had never seen before stood in the doorway as if looking for someone but not seeing them, turned and left, letting the door close behind him.
“Who was that?” Glen asked, seeing Arlene’s obvious interest.
“The fella who’s renting the old McAllister place,” Arlene whispered. “Bridger Duvall. Sounds like the name of an actor. Or a name he just made up. No one knows anything about him. Or why he rented that old farmhouse, since he hasn’t shown any interest in raising a thing. He was downright rude when Violet and I went out there to welcome him to the area.”
Glen could well imagine what Arlene’s welcome visit was all about—and no doubt the man had, as well, the moment he laid eyes on Violet.
“I wonder,” Arlene said slowly. “You know he showed up about the same time Eve returned to town.” Her eyes widened. “What if he’s the man who broke Eve Bailey’s heart?”
And this, Glen thought, was how rumors got started.
SHERIFF CARTER JACKSON felt his breath catch in his throat as he stared down into the ravine. The spot of light blue hadn’t moved and, from this angle, he couldn’t tell what it was but he had a bad feeling it was Eve Bailey.
He raised his binoculars. The light blue moved. He felt his heart lift like helium. Eve Bailey rose from where she’d been almost hidden in the rocks. He watched her work her way slowly up the slope head down, oblivious to him standing high above her. She climbed the rocks with fluid if exhausted movements.
Carter found himself grinning, overjoyed that she was all right, glad he would be able to take good news back to the Whitehorse Community Center.
Now that he knew she was alive, though, he wanted to wring her neck. What the hell had she been thinking riding out like that yesterday afternoon? Maybe more to the point, what was she doing down in that ravine to begin with?
“I’ve found her,” he said into the two-way radio. “She looks like she’s all right. I’m going down to get her out. Bring the horse to the top of the ravine.” He gave a reading from his GPS.
Titus Cavanaugh came back over the radio an instant later, sounding equally relieved. “We’re not far from you. Glad to hear the good news.”
Carter dismounted and, taking his pack with his rescue gear, started to work his way down the rocky slope. His earlier exhilaration at seeing that she was alive was dampened at the thought of what her reaction would be to seeing him. It had been years, but he doubted she would have forgotten the way things had ended between them.
Eve had taken off for college right after high school graduation and he hadn’t seen her since. He knew she’d come back for holidays to see her parents and sisters, but she’d made a point of avoiding him. And since he lived in Whitehorse, he’d had no reason to go out of his way to see her.
In fact, the way even the mention of Eve set Deena off, he’d stayed as far away as he could from Old Town—and Eve Bailey.
He was pretty sure Eve hated him. Not that he could blame her. Or maybe she hadn’t given him a thought since the day she left.
He wished he could say the same.
As he cut off her ascent up the rocky ravine, he realized he was nervous about seeing her. This was crazy. Hell, it had been years. She’d probably forgotten that night in the front seat of his old Chevy pickup behind her parents’ barn.
Just then she looked up and he knew Eve hadn’t forgotten— or forgiven him.
Chapter Four
Eve Bailey looked up at the sound of small loose rocks cascading down the side of the ravine. For a moment, she was blinded by the sun and thought she had imagined the dark silhouette of a man working his way down the slope toward her.
But she would have recognized Sheriff Carter Jackson just by the way he moved even if she hadn’t seen the glint of the star on his uniform shirt. Her breath caught at the sight of him. Surprise, then that old chest-aching pain kicked in before she could vanquish it with anger.
“Stay there,” he called down to her in a deep voice that had once done more than made her poor heart pitter-patter.
She defied her heart to beat even a second faster at the sound of his voice as she stopped to get control of herself. Wasn’t that just her luck? Rescued by the one person on earth she’d never wanted to lay eyes on again.
She leaned against one of the large rocks, not wanting to admit how glad she was to see another human being, though. She felt weak with relief. That and hunger and dehydration and exhaustion. She hadn’t let herself even consider what she would do once she reached the top of the ravine. She’d have had miles more to walk and, the truth was, she would have never made it, and she knew it.
She wanted to sit down and cry, she was so relieved. But why did her rescuer have to be Carter Jackson? When she’d come home, she’d known she would see him eventually. Whitehorse was too small for her not to run into him.
But the last thing she wanted was for him to see her like this, at her most vulnerable. With Carter, she needed all her defenses, and right now she couldn’t have felt more defenseless.
She pushed off the rock, determined not to show any weakness as she started to climb again.
Moving had kept her alive. She was cold and hurt and barely able to keep going. But she’d known that with her clothing still damp, if she’d stopped she would have died. It had been a realistic fear given the temperature earlier this morning and the fact that even with the sun now blazing down, she couldn’t seem to get warm.
But there was another reason she’d kept moving. She didn’t want to think about what she’d discovered down in the ravine. She shivered at the memory of what she’d had to do to survive. That was her, Eve Bailey, the survivor. Isn’t that what she’d heard her whole life? Just like her mother, she thought bitterly.
The climb down the cliff from the plane had been harrowing. She’d fallen more than once, her hands raw, her left ankle killing her.
All she’d known was that she had to find a way down, then back up out of the Breaks no matter how long it took. Given that the crashed plane had apparently never been discovered, she’d figured there was little chance of anyone finding her unless she got off that rock ledge.
She’d been sure it would be days before anyone even realized she was missing, since she lived alone and doubted anyone had seen her ride out yesterday afternoon. Mostly, she worried about her horse. The mare would have gotten out of the storm, but where was she now? Eve loved that horse and couldn’t bear it if something had happened to her.
A shadow fell over her. She stopped climbing and looked up, having lost track of time again.
Sheriff Carter Jackson stood on the rocks just above her, his hand outstretched. She didn’t look at his face as she reluctantly took his hand and let him pull her up onto a large flat rock, too tired to protest. Her legs