She fast-forwarded again until the mountain lion came into view. Jesus, if that thing had gotten into one of the stalls, it could have disemboweled one of the horses. And if Camo hadn’t been with her, she would have waltzed right in. Arden shuddered, thinking not only about what would have happened to her, but the trauma watching it would have inflicted on Danny. The cat stopped in its tracks and looked at the door—that must have been when Camo barked—then left the barn.
Arden hit pause and went back to the live cameras, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kyle outside. Slim chance. She only had cameras installed inside the main barn, in the goat shed, and the chicken coop. She’d planned on adding more for security, but it wasn’t ever quite in the budget. Besides, she had Nancy—both the shotgun and the ‘spirit’—to ward off any threats. In her most fearful moments, she liked to think her great-great-great-grandmother somehow had her back.
Arden stood, grabbed her cell off the counter, and walked to the front door. Camo shadowed her. While she walked, she checked her phone for any other texts or calls. None. No messages saying I’d like to check on my horse. Arden bit her lip. She’d been hoping for a simple answer. She opened the front door and confirmed that there were no tire tracks in the snow coming up the drive.
But there were footprints.
Arden scratched Camo’s head. “Yeah. About those security cameras…”
Ten
The footprints in the beam of Kyle’s phone flashlight led from around the barn to the driveway. He snapped some photos and followed them to the road, where they disappeared beside what looked like snowmobile tracks. Those went both up and down the street and were joined with others; neighbors probably taking advantage of the lull in the snowfall to run errands or visit.
Someone had definitely been on Arden’s ranch, but they wouldn’t be easy to track.
“Dammit,” Kyle muttered to himself. Unless Arden was right and it was one of the horse owners checking up, he knew exactly who had been trespassing. He weighed the option of paying Rick Muir a friendly visit that would end with Rick’s teeth coming out the back of his skull. What could Kyle prove though, other than he thought Rick had been around the barn? No crime had been committed other than trespassing—nothing had been stolen, nothing vandalized. Just a door left open. What was the purpose, other than to fuck with Arden? Had the man’s intention been to set the horses free? Was he interrupted by the mountain lion?
He looked down the road toward Rick’s place. As much as he wanted to beat the shit out of the man for the crime of just breathing the same air as decent people, Kyle didn’t have enough to go on. He had too much to lose if Muir pressed charges, and he was just the type of asshole to exercise extreme prejudice by suing someone to death on top of criminal charges.
Kyle had other, smarter options, even if they weren’t as immediately gratifying.
Arden and Camo met him at the door. “Did you find anything?” she asked.
Kyle took off the parka and hung it up. “Do you know if Rick owns a snowmobile?”
“Everyone up here owns a snowmobile. It’s your only option for getting around sometimes.”
“The footprints led to and from the road. Whoever made them had a snowmobile.” They made their way to the couch in front of the fireplace. “Any messages on your phone from horse owners?”
“No.” Her voice sounded resigned. “I was hoping that was the case.” She tucked her legs under her and wrapped herself up in a throw. Camo lay down on one of the sheepskins scattered on the hardwood. “So you really think it’s Rick?”
Kyle wasn’t sure how close to sit to her, so he opted for more distance than he wanted. A lot more—he would have been just fine setting Arden on his lap. God, she felt so good in his arms. She smelled like summer—wildflowers and crushed grass. It had taken him by surprise. “Yeah, I think it’s him. Earlier when I was helping Ellie, it looked like he had pushed down Walter’s bus stop sign, the one closer to their house.”
Arden closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “That son of a bitch. I’ll shoot him myself just for that.”
Goddamn, she was hot when she was angry. She opened her eyes and those steely grays pinned him. “What do you think he was trying to do here, turn the horses loose?”
“That would be my guess.”
Her brow furrowed. “So why didn’t he do it?”
“Maybe he heard the cat and got spooked off.”
She nodded.
“Or, he could have spotted the camera in the barn and realized he’d be caught on video,” Kyle added.
“Well, that settles it.” She shook her head. “Tomorrow, we’re between storms. I’m going down into Lyons to pick up some more cameras. Maybe even file a report.” She looked at the fire. “You can come along, if you want.” The forced nonchalance in her voice made Kyle cover up his smile.
“I’d love to.”
She glanced back at him, the firelight reddening her cheeks. Or was it a blush? “Want some hot chocolate?”
“Is that a trick question?”
She laughed. “I’ll be right back.”
He watched her moving around the kitchen, pulling down cocoa powder and setting a pan of milk on the burner. All he wanted to do right now was throw her down on one of the sheepskins and taste more of her. Watch the firelight play on her hair, pinken up her body while he rode her. Damn, he needed to sort his thoughts and stop thinking with the little head. Even if he had a shot with her—and despite the kiss, he doubted it, especially once she knew who he really was—it would never work. She wasn’t about to leave her ranch. And he had his life back in LA. He had Watchdog, and he owed them everything.
