“But he didn’t.”
“Nope. Turns out he was just terrified.” Dakota glanced back at me. “What about you? You seeing anyone?”
I laughed. “God, no. I don’t do relationships. Too messy, too complicated. I like keeping things simple.”
“Simple like hookups?”
“Exactlylike hookups.” I stepped over a fallen log, nearly losing my balance. “No strings, no expectations, no one getting hurt when it inevitably ends.”
Dakota hummed thoughtfully but didn’t comment. Up ahead, Marcus had stopped at what looked like a small clearing. We caught up to him, and I saw why he’d paused.
There were more footprints here, lots of them, all churned up in the mud. And in the center of the clearing was a makeshift camp of sorts. There was a ratty tarp strung between trees, some empty food containers, and what looked like a sleeping bag stuffed behind a log.
“Well,” I said slowly. “I don’t think this is a cruising spot after all.”
Marcus shot me a look that could’ve melted steel. “No. It’s not.”
“Someone’s been staying out here,” Dakota said, crouching down to examine the setup. “Looks like they’ve been here a few days at least.”
Marcus was already taking pictures, his jaw set in that determined way I was starting to recognize. “Don’t touch anything. This is evidence now.”
I stayed back, watching him work. There was something almost beautiful about how focused he became, how every movement was deliberate and careful. He wasn’t just going through the motions. He genuinely cared about figuring this out.
“Think it’s a homeless person?” Dakota asked. “Someone passing through?”
“Hard to tell,” Marcus replied. “All this stuff is pretty worn down. It could be that someone just found it recently. You might want to check with the ranch hands to see if they’ve come across this.”
“They probably would’ve reported it, but I’ll check with them anyway.”
Marcus nodded. “I’ll grab a couple trail cams from the office and bring them out here. We’ll keep one on the camp and another pointed toward the house. See if we can get anything.”
“Good idea,” Dakota said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll text Logan and let him know what we found.”
I shifted my weight, these oversized boots starting to rub blisters on my heels. “So, what happens now? We just wait for whoever this is to come back?”
“That’s the plan,” Marcus said, still examining the campsite. He crouched down near the sleeping bag, careful not to touch it. “Though I’d prefer if you weren’t involved in any of this from here on out.”
“Why not?” I crossed my arms. “I found the cigarette butt. I’m helping.”
“Because this could be dangerous,” he said, standing up and fixing me with those serious green eyes. “We don’t know who’s been staying out here or what they’re capable of. They’ve already stolen from the ranch. Who knows what else they might do if they feel cornered.”
“I can handle myself,” I insisted, even though a small voice in the back of my head was suggesting that maybe the sheriff had a point.
“I’m sure you can,” Marcus said, and there was something in his tone that made it sound like he actually meant it. “But I’d feel better if you stayed in town. Or better yet, back in your cabin.”
“Are you worried about me, Sheriff?” I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s sweet.”
His jaw tightened again, and I watched that familiar flush creep back up his neck. “I’m worried about anyone who might get caught up in this. It’s my job.”
“Right. Your job.” I emphasized the word just enough to make it clear I didn’t quite believe that was the only reason.
“We should probably head back,” Marcus said, straightening up after taking the last photo. “Those trail cams need to go up before it gets dark.”
“And, you know, that’s when thecruiserscome out,” I grinned.
Marcus turned beet red once more, and opened his mouth to retort, but no sound came out. Clearly flustered and annoyed, he stomped off, Dakota trailing behind him as they headed back to the main house.
Goddamn he was fun to mess with.
