CHAPTER NINE
“I don’t understand. Why would your boss hire somebody to kill you?” Abby asked. The three sisters sat at the table, the early morning light streaming into the kitchen windows.
There had been no opportunity the night before for Colette to tell her sisters about her phone call to the law firm where she used to work. “Who knows? Maybe I filed something in the wrong place or made too many typing errors,” Colette said with an attempt at humor. Brook wiggled in her arms, as if protesting the conversation. Colette rocked her and the baby fell back asleep.
“Hmm, I’ve always considered that grounds for murder,” Belinda replied. “Seriously, Colette, do you really think this Cameron Collier has hired somebody to harm you?”
“I’m sure of it. The minute I heard his voice on the phone I remembered him verbally threatening me.” She shivered as she remembered the hissed words, the venom that had accompanied them.
“But it just doesn’t make any sense,” Belinda said. “Maybe it’s all a big misunderstanding of some kind.Maybe you should go back to San Bernardino and talk to this man.”
Colette shook her head vehemently. “No, there’s no way to misunderstand me being shoved down the root cellar stairs and off the side of the butte. I know somebody is trying to kill me, and I know Cameron Collier is behind it all. The last thing I want to do is return to California and confront the man.”
“I’ll call Junior later and tell him what you think. Maybe he can find a connection between this Cameron Collier and one of the ranch hands.”
For the first time since arriving at the ranch, a burst of optimism bubbled inside Colette. Surely Junior could investigate the background of all the men on the ranch and find the California connection. All she had to do was lay low and wait for Junior to arrest the guilty party.
Once again when Abby, Cody and Belinda left the house for the day, Bulldog was installed as a sort of outdoor guard. Colette wandered the interior of the house, frustrated by her enforced imprisonment yet not eager to venture out and tempt fate.
After lunch, once again alone in the house, she placed Brook on a blanket in the middle of the living room floor and stretched out beside her. It was amazing how each day Brook changed, transforming from newborn to infant in the blink of an eye. Her ebony hair had grown since her birth, sleekly covering her scalp like a cape of soft down. Her cheeks had filled out to give her a cherub look.
“Where’s your daddy, little girl?” Colette asked softly, rubbing the sweet softness of Brook’s cheek. “He’s missing so many things.”
Colette closed her eyes, suddenly remembering the dream she’d experienced just before waking that morning. Unlike the recurring nightmare, this dream had warmed her and caused an ache of bereavement to sweep through her when she’d awakened.
She’d dreamed of being in strong, protective arms, the warmth of a male body snuggled spoon fashion around her back. She’d felt a sense of belonging, a rightness in being in his arms, and she’d known the man holding her was Brook’s father, Colette’s prince.
She’d awakened to a sense of deep loss, to loneliness and fear. Where was that man now? Why wasn’t he here with her and Brook, protecting them, loving them?
She had a boss she suspected had hired somebody to try to kill her, another man who professed to have slept with her a single night and blatantly stated he intended to do so again. But where was the man she’d dreamed about? Someplace there was a man she’d loved and trusted. Where could he be? Why wasn’t he here with her? What possible turn of events had cast him from her life?
The front door opened and Belinda flew in. “The horse is having a bad time, the foal isn’t turned right and we can’t get it turned. I’m supposed to call the vet.”
She raced to the phone and quickly dialed a number. She explained the situation to whomever answered the phone then hung up again. “Don’t worry about doing anything for supper,” Belinda told Colette as she headed back toward the door. “This could take a while.”
When Belinda left, Colette went to the front windowand looked out toward the barn, where a flurry of activity seemed to be taking place. Ranch hands walked in and out, their long strides purposeful.
On the front porch, Bulldog leaned against the railing, his moon face wistful as he gazed toward the barn. Assigned to stand guard, he was missing the drama of the foal’s birth, but Colette knew he wouldn’t shirk the duty Abby had handed him by leaving his post.
A surge of affection for the big man swept through Colette. Other than her sisters, Bulldog was the one person Colette trusted implicitly.
Sitting back down next to her daughter, again Colette thought of the predicament she was in…haunted by lost memories and hunted by an unknown killer.
It would be so much easier to deal with everything if she only knew why. Why did somebody want her dead? Why had her boss threatened her? It was all so confusing.
She froze, head tilted as she thought she heard the sound of a door clicking shut. It had come from the kitchen. The faint noise was immediately followed by the high-pitched creak of footsteps across the wooden floor.
Someone’s in the house.The words reverberated through her head. Somebody had managed to get in the locked back door and was now making their way across the kitchen. The furtiveness of the footsteps chilled her.
Without thought, functioning only on pure adrenaline and primal instinct, Colette scooped Brook into her arms and ran for her room.
“Damn, damn,” she swore as she realized the bedroomdoor had no lock. She pressed her ear against the door and heard the faint but unmistakable sound of footsteps coming closer…closer.
Panic swept over her, through her. She placed Brook in the crib, then ran to the large dresser. With a surge of strength she knew she’d never attain again, she shoved the dresser across the doorway.
She tried to still her ragged breathing, stop the frantic pounding of her heart so she could hear what danger might approach. She held her breath, but heard nothing.
Perhaps she’d overreacted. Maybe she’d only imagined she’d heard the door close softly, the furtive footsteps sliding across the floor.
