Her bare feet made a soft sound against the hardwood as she padded toward the kitchen. Turning on a lamp on the side table in the living room, she sought a glass in the kitchen and filled it with water. Absently drinking, her gaze wandered out the window in the living room, where a light caught her eye. She climbed on the sofa and peered out into the night. Marshall’s kitchen lights were on. Was he newly awake and getting ready to start his day? Had he spent all night tossing and turning like her? The barn was dark, and police had cleared out some time in the night, along with their floodlights, which was a relief. Theidea of returning to the stable was frightening. Too much had happened.
Though she had been afraid of the horses when she first arrived at the ranch, now she felt bad for them. It must have been so unsettling to have their home invaded like that. Her plan was to work a few days from the cottage before setting foot in that building again. Chewing her bottom lip, she wondered if there would be a funeral somewhere in town. It would probably happen in the next few days. She would visit Jack’s wife to pay her respects. It was hard to imagine how Edith was coping, having lost everything while also battling cancer. Would there be anyone to care for her?
In her head, Colette could see a list of all the strange things that had happened since she had arrived. She spied that strange man leaving Marshall’s office. Even after taking the cookies to the stables and meeting all the ranch hands, she had never seen a man with the same physical characteristics as the one she had witnessed that day. And right after that, the cattle were set free from their enclosure while Marshall was away. It was way too coincidental.
Marshall complained about fences that always needed mending. The canceled cattle feed orders and the missing files were still nowhere to be seen. None of the mishaps seemed connected if examined separately; they were more like normal ranch maintenance and upkeep issues. But altogether? It was a lot happening all at once. Overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness, Colette watched Marshall’s house, wondering if she should go see him. What if he was crying and there was no one to hold him?
The thought squeezed her heart.
Colette shook her head. If he decided not to come to her, there must have been a good reason. The sun would rise in a few hours, and she could start working again, as long as she hadan IV of coffee hooked up to her veins. Best to focus on her job. Finding what was going on might help Marshall figure out who was up to no good at the ranch.
Maybe the bad luck wasn’t bad luck after all.
Maybe there was a serpent in the grass at Rosebud Ranch.
CHAPTER 33
Marshall’s eyes widened and he clenched his teeth as he stared at the phone screen. He had spent the better part of the day working, and now, his home was overrun. His territory was being invaded.
Colette: How are you doing? Want me to come over?
Oh hell no. They had a sweet, budding romance developing between them, and the last thing Colette needed was this.
First, a death on the ranch.
Now, his entire family was here.
Marshall: Not now. My family has arrived and it’s… a lot
Marshall gritted his teeth and looked up from the sofa, where he had tucked himself into a corner and watched as his family milled about the kitchen.
“The fridge is empty.” His mother clucked her tongue as she investigated the stock of food Marshall kept…or didn’t keep.
“I eat leftovers from Betsy that’s been working just fine, Mom,” he said, attempting to keep a slight whine from his tone. “I gave her the day off today, because of everything that has happened.” The arrival of his parents, Rowena and Fletcher King, seemed to make him revert to being a child all over again.
“What’s the matter, Marshall? You don’t keep the kitchen stocked as though an army of ten people could drop by at any moment?” Simone said with a snort, twirling a glass of wine in between her fingers on the counter.
Rowena gave her a playful pat on the shoulder, laughing. “Watch that smart mouth, young lady.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll watch it for her,” Roger mumbled, walking behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. Simone leaned back, eyes closing.
The chaos of everyone being here at once was going to be torture. He thought Jack dying was going to be the difficult part, but having everyone prying into his relatively private existence on the ranch was…also challenging. His family visited before, of course, but it wasn’t usually everyone at once. Tragedy had brought them together when all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and disappear. Swigging the last of his whiskey, Marshall stood, pressing his hands onto his thighs.
He yawned loudly. “I’m going to head to bed.”
“We’ll go grocery shopping tomorrow. I’ll try to rope Edna into catering. She accommodates last-minute orders. We’re going to have to be ready for the wake,” Rowena King said, a despairing sigh coming from her mouth as she pressed a hand to her cheek. “I need to go to bed too. It’s way past my bedtime.” Collecting the glasses from everyone in the kitchen, she lined them up carefully by the sink and opened the dishwasher.
“Leave it for tomorrow, Rowe.” Fletcher King’s deep voice spoke behind her. Marshall walked up to his father and patted him on the back.
“It’s good to see you, Dad. I’m only sorry to have you here under these circumstances,” Marshall said, walking over to his mother to kiss her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Mom.”
His mother wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze. She pulled back and brushed her thumb along the edge of his beard.
“You’ll have to shave for the funeral, Marshall. This beard is dreadful.” She pursed her lips as she studied him. “It’s so…rustic.”
Marshall rolled his eyes. “I’m a beard guy, Mom. Get used to it.”
Rowena gasped, taken aback by his tone. “Goodnight, my brave boy,” she said with a sad smirk and a shake of her head. “I’ll never get used to ranch Marshall. So gruff.”
