The Cowboy Sheriff. Trish Milburn

and trying to remember every moment of Sammi’s life. How could she be gone? Keri held out hope that this was all just a dream, one that felt way too real.

       At some point, she struggled to her feet and started roaming from one room to another, trailing her hand over family photos, an afghan made by her mother, the blue faux granite countertops Keri had installed the previous year. When she ended up at the room she’d shared with Sammi, she couldn’t step inside. Since she now slept in the master bedroom, she didn’t come in here often. Now she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to enter the room again.

       She closed the door on the past and went back downstairs to her own room. For a long time, she’d avoided moving into the master suite she’d always thought of as her parents’ domain. Only after she’d totally redone the bedroom and adjoining bathroom and gotten different furniture had she been able to call it hers and not feel as though she was invading their space.

       Tonight it offered no comfort as she strode in and sank onto the side of her bed. Though she was tired, she knew herself well enough to know she wasn’t going to sleep a wink. If not for the crippling ice in Dallas, she’d be on the road. And to hell with Simon Teague’s concerns.

       She spent the hours of the night packing, calling Sunshine to make arrangements for the operation of the bakery while she was gone and drinking countless cups of coffee. She even tried to go to bed only to discover she’d been right in the first place. She couldn’t sleep despite how her mind wanted to power down.

       By the time dawn revealed the snow hadn’t amounted to more than the equivalent of a heavy frost, she was sitting next to her bags in the living room. She heard Simon’s department-issue SUV as soon as it turned onto her street. She had the front door locked and was down the steps before he pulled into her driveway.

       He handed her a thermal mug of coffee, and she took it without a word. What was there to say? She could think of a dozen people with whom she’d rather be riding, but she didn’t want to put anyone else in danger on slick roads. She desperately wished she didn’t have to make the trip at all.

       For a couple of hours, they made good time. But around Hico, they ran into the southern edge of the ice storm’s path. Simon had to slow down more with each mile they traveled until it felt as if they were barely moving. At this pace, it was going to take forever to reach Dallas and Hannah.

       Keri found herself leaning forward and gripping the edge of her seat. Layers of ice bent tree limbs and caused power lines to swoop. Smoke poured out of chimneys, and she wondered if that was because the electricity and thus the heat were out. She hoped wherever Hannah was, she was warm and safe.

       “Hard to believe something so pretty can be so dangerous,” Simon said.

       They’d been quiet so long that the sound of his voice startled her. She couldn’t decide if the strained silence or talking to him was worse.

       “Yeah.” That solitary word was all she could muster.

       As the miles slowly ticked by, she glanced at Simon’s profile. He looked tense, and she wondered how much effort it was taking him to creep along at such an agonizing pace and to keep the SUV from sliding off into a ditch.

       She bit her lip and stared out her side window, trying to bar the image of Ben and Sammi’s vehicle spinning out of control. Why had they been out in the storm, anyway? A surge of anger made her want to pound her fists into something hard and immovable. Sammi was smart, so why had she made such a stupid move? Why had she gotten herself killed?

       Keri realized she might never get the answers to those questions, and that left her feeling even more bereft.

       Their progress was so slow that she’d swear she could swim through taffy faster. By the time they reached the outskirts of Dallas, she was a ball of knotted muscles and blistering fatigue. Once in the city, the streets got marginally better. The sun was out and actually melting a bit of the accumulated ice.

       When Simon finally pulled into a parking lot outside of a Dallas P.D. precinct, she let some of her tense muscles relax. They’d made it. But then she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to haul herself to her feet and inside.

       “Keri?”

       For some reason, the sound of Simon’s deep voice surprised her again.

       “What?”

       He looked across the vehicle at her. “Have you been able to reach Carter?”

       She gripped the door handle so hard she was in danger of ripping it off. “No.” She refrained from reminding Simon that were it not for him, her brother might be with her now. She spurred her tired body into movement and got out of the SUV before Simon could ask any more questions she didn’t want to answer.

       She’d tried Carter the night before only to discover the last number she had for him no longer worked. He was out there somewhere unaware that his oldest sister had died.

       And it was all Simon Teague’s fault.

      Chapter Two

      Simon watched Keri as she and Ben’s parents handled the heartbreaking details of being next of kin. Her actions and responses were mechanical, like an autopilot program without a shred of emotion. He’d known her nearly their entire lives and felt he’d never known her less.

       Keri Mehler had always been one part girl, one part ball of fire. Didn’t matter if she was making moves on the basketball court in high school, yanking her younger brother into line or telling Simon to take a soaring nosedive off the nearest bridge, she always did everything full out. But now? Now the fire was nowhere to be found, replaced by a detachment as cold as the ice that coated the world outside.

       Would he be any different if he ever lost Nathan or Ryan?

       But Keri’s new reality was even worse. She’d lost almost her entire family. All she had left was a brother who was God only knew where and a baby who’d lived a miracle and a tragedy in the same moment. A baby who would grow up looking to Keri to be her mother.

       The door on the opposite side of the room opened and a woman who was probably with Child Protective Services walked in holding a sleeping Hannah. Keri stared without moving for so long that tension and awkwardness began to rob the room of air. The woman with Hannah in her arms shifted her gaze to him.

       “She’s been fed and changed,” she said. “And we have some supplies for you—diapers, wipes, food. Car seat, too.”

       He nodded then glanced at Keri again. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sadder, emptier. It was as though everything that made her who she was had simply disappeared as if it’d never existed.

       Not wanting the woman or anyone with Dallas P.D. to think Keri wasn’t fit to care for Hannah, he started toward the little girl. Keri moved in the same instant, crossing the room to take the only part of Sammi that remained. Though she ran her fingertips across Hannah’s cheek, Keri’s expression didn’t change.

       The other woman placed a hand on Keri’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

       “Thank you,” Keri said, her voice as hollow as an empty bucket. She pulled Hannah closer and walked out of the room.

       The lady from CPS gave Simon a worried look. “Is she going to be okay?”

       He nodded. “Eventually. Just a shock.”

       “I can imagine. Does she have help?”

       He hesitated a moment. “A brother, friends.” Of course the brother was so off the radar that he didn’t even know his oldest sister was dead yet. But Simon was banking on Keri snapping out of her dazed state and giving her niece all the love and care she could muster. She’d never do anything less. Sammi wouldn’t have named Keri guardian if she hadn’t believed her sister could handle the responsibility.

       By the time he reached the corridor, Keri was already at the door to the parking lot. He grabbed the car seat sitting on the floor and followed