Forsaken. B.J. Daniels

he wanted to play it down.

      “Did your family race them?” she asked as she hefted her saddle up onto the horse’s back.

      “No. My sister was involved in some jumping competitions. I preferred to just ride the horses.”

      As if that made him less of an elitist. She could hear the Ivy League education behind his words. “Harvard? Princeton?”

      “Harvard,” he said as he clinched up his saddle. “Law school. I was an attorney at my wife’s father’s firm for ten years before becoming a cop.” He chuckled and looked up at her. “Aren’t you going to ask how I ended up a deputy sheriff in Big Timber, Montana?”

      She’d noticed the pale line on his ring finger and the way he nervously touched the spot when he thought she wasn’t looking. The missing wedding band was like a phantom limb, she thought. It was still there in a way he couldn’t seem to get past. She assumed its loss was too fresh. Which she’d bet explained what he was doing in Montana.

      “Nope, that’s sufficient information,” she said.

      He laughed. “It seems only fair you tell me something about you.”

      She shook her head. “I only asked you those things because I just needed to know if you could ride a horse and were smart enough to stay out of my way,” she said as she swung up into the saddle. “Ready?”

      “I’m ready if you are,” he said as he mounted the horse.

      “I hope so,” she said, glancing over at him. “We have a long ride ahead of us.” She had no idea how far they would have to go. It would depend on where Branch had last made camp with the sheep. She knew where they should be, but she wasn’t betting on anything at this point.

      Just as she doubted the deputy was any more ready for what was ahead of them than she was. But it was clear that neither of them was turning back.

      * * *

      “WHO WAS THAT?”

      On the porch of the general store just after lunch, Nettie turned in surprise to see Sheriff Frank Curry standing behind her. She hadn’t heard him drive up. For a moment she was so happy to see him that she didn’t even register the disapproval in his tone.

      “Don’t tell me that was who I think it was,” he said, sounding upset.

      “Well, if you think it was J. D. West, then you’re right.” J.D. had professed to love the apartment, paid in cash for a week and told her again how wonderful she looked.

      Then he’d bought her lunch, bringing sandwiches over from the café so the two of them could sit on the store porch and eat them. Just moments before the sheriff had appeared, she’d been watching J.D. drive away, warmed by his return to Beartooth.

      “What’s he doing in town?” Frank demanded, frowning after J.D.’s pickup.

      She definitely didn’t like his tone. “Visiting his family.”

      “How long is he staying?”

      “As long as he wants to.” Her hands went to her hips. “What’s with all the questions?”

      He blinked before turning his frown on her. “He’s trouble.”

      “You haven’t seen him in years. Maybe he’s changed.”

      Frank scoffed at that.

      It had been weeks since she’d seen Frank. This wasn’t how she’d hoped things would go when he stopped by the store again.

      “Well, I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt,” she said, feeling her indignation as well as her temper rise.

      “Of course you are.”

      He was making her mad now. “What does that mean?”

      “It means, Lynette, that you have always had a soft spot for J.D.” Frank was the only one who called her by her given name. Normally just the sound of it on his lips would have made her day.

      “Frank Curry, that’s not true! That was more than thirty years ago, but you were always the one who—” She caught herself before she said, “—I was soft on.”

      “You can bet he’s here for more than a visit.” Frank’s gaze narrowed at her. “What did he want with you?”

      She bristled. “Maybe he just stopped in to say hello or buy something.”

      Frank shook his head. “He’s a lot cagier than that. Believe me, he wanted something.” He shoved back his Stetson, his gaze on her face. “What did he want?” Clearly he was determined to wait her out. She realized he must have overheard J.D. saying he would be back.

      “You’ll find out soon enough anyway, I guess,” she said with a sigh. “He asked about renting my apartment.”

      “I hope to hell you didn’t rent it to him.”

      “As a matter of fact, I did.”

      Frank swore again. “What were you thinking, Lynette?”

      “That maybe he deserves a second chance? People change, you know.” She knew this was aimed more at herself and Frank and had little to do with J.D. It was she and Frank who deserved a second chance. Why couldn’t he see that?

      He eyed her warily. “What are you getting so mad about?”

      “You. I haven’t seen you in weeks, and you suddenly show up and...” She choked on the words, unable to say more for fear she would cry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been brought to tears, but standing out here on the store porch, the spring air warm and scented with pines, wasn’t going to be one of them.

      “I want you to stay clear of him.”

      She stared at Frank in disbelief. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were...jealous.”

      “Jealous? Isn’t it possible that I worry about you? That I don’t want to see you make an even bigger mistake?”

      “I’m sorry, but what was the first big mistake you’re referring to?”

      He pulled his Stetson off and slammed it against his leg as if to knock off invisible dust. He had to know he’d stepped in it this time.

      “Well, Frank? Surely it wasn’t me not marrying you.”

      He stuffed his hat back on his thick, blond-and-only-slightly-graying hair. If only he wasn’t so good-looking.

      “Sometimes, Lynette,” he said and, without another word, turned and strode across the street toward the Branding Iron.

      Nettie watched him go, wanting to call him back and start over. She realized she should have asked about Tiffany. She also shouldn’t have gotten mad and said what she had. More than anything she wanted him to have been as happy to see her as she’d been to see him.

      It wasn’t like him to let someone like J.D. upset him like that. Frank hadn’t been himself for months now. She worried about him—when she wasn’t furious with him. How long was it going to take for him to come to his senses and ask her out? They’d both be ninety with one foot in the grave by the time he finally got around to it. If he ever did.

      “Stubborn damned fool,” she said under her breath, all the time hoping he would look back before he disappeared into the café. He didn’t.

      * * *

      THE FIRST THING Deputy Jamison noticed after they left the truck and horse trailer behind and rode into the mountains was the quiet. It hung in the dark, dense pines. The sound of the horses climbing the mountain seemed small and isolated as if nothing could truly disrupt the mountains’ eerie silence.

      Just when he thought he would give anything to break that quiet, the wind came up. A dust devil spun off to his right, appearing to come out of nowhere, and then it was all around them. The wind blowing off the snowy