“The bruise on your forehead is an attractive shade of purple.”
Colette reached up and touched the tender area.“Yeah, I noticed when I got up. At least my ribs aren’t as painful this morning. I can live with a purple forehead as long as it doesn’t hurt to breathe.”
“And still no idea why somebody might be after you?”
Shaking her head, Colette released a deep sigh. “None.” She didn’t mention her concerns about Hank, wasn’t even sure where to begin to talk about him. “Whatever the reason, it’s apparently locked in my head along with the memory of my life in California.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Colette shrugged. “What can I do? Stick close to you and Belinda. Make sure I don’t wander off by myself, and wait for my memory to return.” She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “I’d say whoever is after me apparently wants my death to look like an accident. Otherwise, why not just shoot me? I mean, I was out in the open and nobody else was around. Why hit me in the back of the head and push me down a set of stairs into a root cellar, why not just kill me?”
“But what about the rocks Hank found on top of the cellar? Those would certainly attest to the fact that somebody didn’t want you to get out.”
“Who knows? Maybe whoever did it intended to come back in a couple of days and move the rocks. Without those rocks, nobody would have known I was down there.” Colette shivered, thinking what might have happened had Hank not found her. “Abby…” She reached across the table and took one of Abby’s hands in hers. “I want you to make me a promise.”
“Anything.”
“If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll raise Brook.”
Abby snatched her hand back, obviously horrified. “Nothing is going to happen to you,” she said emphatically. “Belinda and I are going to watch your back and Junior will find out who is responsible.”
“Junior.” Colette smiled as she thought of the gray-haired sheriff. “Is that really his name?”
Abby nodded. “Apparently when he was born, his father and mother wanted him named after his father, then decided that everyone would probably call him Junior, so why not name him that instead. It’s a story he likes to tell. I know you don’t remember this, but he and Dad were always close. Junior was here about everyday when we were growing up. He was like a favorite uncle. He’s been a wonderful support since Mom and Dad died.”
“I just hope he’s a good sheriff and can help me. Until we know who’s after me I’m going to be living like a prisoner, afraid to leave the house.” Colette frowned. “Maybe I should go someplace else until I get my memories back. I’d never forgive myself if I brought danger to you and Belinda.”
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Abby replied. “There has been nothing to indicate anyone is in danger but you, and the place for you is right here with us. Now, no more of that kind of talk.” Abby stood. “And now I’ve got to get busy. Greg’s phone call gave me a dose of aggression I’d better vent doing something constructive. Besides, I need to check on a horse about ready to foal. I’ll see you later.”
She started out the back door, then hesitated. “Belinda’s already out for the day and I’m going to tell Bulldog to keep an eye on the house. He’s not real bright, but he’d turn himself inside out to keep all of us safe. He’ll see that nobody gets in who doesn’t belong in. Keep the doors locked while you’re here alone.”
Colette nodded, immediately feeling alone and vulnerable as her sister left the house. The thought of sitting around waiting for something to happen filled her with a combination of insecurity and frustration. She had a feeling she’d never been one to just sit and patiently wait.
Going back up to her room, she grabbed the sheet of paper Abby had written for her that contained the names of the men who’d recently started to work at the ranch. She was certain one of them was the person trying to kill her.
Once again in the kitchen, she sat at the table, the list in front of her. Roger Eaton. It was hard to imagine that behind his friendly smile and open face might lurk the mind of a killer. Still, what face did a killer wear?
She frowned as she studied the next name. Philip Weiss. Surely he was too old to be a killer? And yet she knew it hadn’t taken much strength to shove her off the butte or smack her in the back of the head.
Billy Sims. Certainly he was physically capable of anything and his demeanor made him the most likely suspect. Still, it wasn’t the open hostility that frightened Colette, it was the fear that somebody wearing a smile intended her harm.
Bob Sanderson. The rambling plumber and Rusty’s right hand. Was it possible he’d come in with theintention of harming Colette and his intentions had been stymied by Abby and Cody’s sudden reappearance?
Certainly he’d said words that had recalled fear in her, but it had been a common enough phrase.Loose lips sink ships.
Finally she stared at Hank’s name. Hank Cooper. One-night lover or accomplished liar? She wished she knew what to believe about him. His kiss had stoked a fire of desire deep within her, but she couldn’t deny that he also created in her a vague sense of threat.
From the first instant she’d seen him, while in the throes of labor pains, she’d had the distinct impression that rather than escaping danger, she’d run directly into the arms of danger. Why? Why were her feelings for Hank so ambiguous?
By the time Abby and Belinda showed up for lunch, Colette was no closer to understanding the mess she was in or her strange feelings toward Hank.
Throughout the noon meal both Abby and Belinda appeared distracted. Abby’s gaze wandered time and time again to her son, and Colette knew her sister was worrying about Greg’s threat to become a part of Cody’s life.
Would Colette one day face this same sort of dilemma? Someday would she get a phone call from the man who’d fathered Brook, and would he demand a place in the little girl’s life?
Who was he? Who was Brook’s father? Had he been a co-worker at the law firm? Had Colette loved him? She couldn’t imagine sleeping with a man she didn’t love.
Her face burned as she thought of Hank. If whathe’d told her was true, love had had nothing to do with them falling into bed with each other.
