Protecting His Brother's Bride. Jan Schliesman

word without a shred of evidence, just so she’d have some part of Josh again.

      “We are married,” Blondie said. “And I need to talk to him.”

      “Lady—and I use the term very loosely—there are many things you obviously need. But you’ll never talk to Josh.”

      “Oh, you can bet I’ll find him,” she yelled, shoving forward and staring Dalton in the eye. “You don’t know anything about me.”

      “Lucky me.” He’d give her points for appearing wounded by his comment, but she was still a fraud. “Cooking up this whole story isn’t getting you a dime. I guarantee it.”

      “It isn’t a story and I don’t want your money. Josh will help set everything straight. Do you know where he is?”

      “Yeah, I know a lot of things.” The words spit from his lips. “I know you’re definitely not Josh’s wife.” Of all the ridiculous lies she could have created, this one knocked the breath from Dalton’s lungs. He had to stop her before the situation snowballed out of control.

      “I couldn’t care less what you believe,” she snapped, giving as good as she got. “Can you help me find Josh or not?”

      “Find him? Oh, yeah, I can lead you right to him.” Dalton slammed his fist against the console and drew a deep breath before he threw the car into gear, made a U-turn and tore down the roadway. He veered right on the second gravel road, so upset that he forgot about slowing down for the ruts.

      “Where are you taking me?”

      He couldn’t answer her.

      “When was the last time you saw Josh?”

      “Seven weeks ago.” He pushed the words out.

      “Did he seem all right?”

      “No.” Dalton felt nothing now that the gate was in sight. “He seemed dead.”

      * * *

      Blondie was silent for several minutes. “Tell me how.” She kept her face turned toward the window, although he couldn’t have judged her true reaction in the darkness, anyway.

      “Does it matter?” Dalton refused to go into the whole story when it was the least of his worries. He followed the ruts in the road as the pellets of rain lessened to a fine mist. After kicking on the high beams, he adjusted the wipers to a slower interval and watched for washed-out spots in their path. He hadn’t been here often, but the archway entrance to the cemetery couldn’t be missed.

      “It matters to me.” She rubbed her palms against her eyelids. “Why is this happening?”

      “You must have some idea.”

      “So far, every one of my ideas has turned to crap.” She coughed. “Leave it to Josh to get the last word, even in death.”

      “So the honeymoon was over? I can’t imagine why Josh would’ve kept your charming personality a secret from the rest of the family.”

      “Family? What are you talking about? Josh didn’t have family. Who are you?” She fired the questions while bracing a hand on the ceiling to keep herself from jostling around each time they hit a bump.

      Dalton ignored her question. He sped through the gate, gripping the leather steering wheel as he turned to the family’s corner. He eyed Josh’s wife with renewed annoyance and questioned her lack of emotion since he’d announced his brother was dead. If they really were married, shouldn’t she have some remorse over his passing? What kind of wife referred to her deceased husband as getting in the last word?

      The cemetery had been a private plot until his father sold most of the land thirty years ago. Dalton had hated the place as a kid. Hated it more now, since Lauren and Josh were buried here. Throwing the car into Park, he jumped out and opened the heavy iron gates separating their family from the rest of the cemetery.

      When he climbed back inside the car, he realized Blondie could have locked him out and driven away. Instead, she was staring out her window. What was going through her mind?

      He followed the pathway curving to the right. Towering green ash trees and a few rare bushes whose name he’d forgotten edged the lane. He parked near the large headstone serving as the grand centerpiece.

      “Let’s go.”

      “No.” She shook her head. “I’m not doing this.”

      “I don’t remember giving you a choice.” He released the door locks, remembering to pull the keys.

      The interior lights flickered when he tugged on his door handle, then exited the car. Stepping away from the closest muddy rut, he waded through the grass and flipped open the trunk. He found the emergency kit and the flashlight before circling to the front of the vehicle, where he waited for Blondie.

      She took her time, staring through the windshield at him for several moments before joining him in the halogen glare of the headlights. She dragged the afghan with her as she stalked silently beside him. The flashlight glimmered off the headstone at the center of the plot.

      “I guess size matters a lot in your family,” Blondie snickered.

      “It’s rumored to be sprinkled with real diamond dust. Probably not true, since no one has ever tried stealing it.”

      “Pretty flashy for the middle of nowhere,” she said, continuing around the far end. “Why did you bring me here?”

      Was she deliberately trying to goad him?

      “The Matthews men were a prideful bunch, with a history of grand exits from the world. This massive headstone took two years and a lot of money during the Depression to complete. Nowadays, only the caretaker sees it on a regular basis.”

      “Nice history lesson, but my husband’s last name is Kincaid. This has nothing to do with me and I don’t care.”

      Dalton hadn’t been the most respectful Matthews family member to set foot in this place, but Blondie’s disrespect was ticking him off. Or was it being close to Lauren’s grave?

      Or even the fact that Josh had been buried next to Lauren, at his mother’s suggestion. And Dalton couldn’t object without voicing his suspicions about their affair and starting everything again. No, this had to end—right here, right now.

      Then a stretch of bare earth appeared, and the pile of flowers the wind and rain hadn’t managed to carry away. No one visited, but his mother insisted a fresh arrangement be placed there every Sunday.

      “Josh is over here.” Dalton took her arm and tried pulling her a few feet closer to the site.

      “Why should I believe a complete stranger who won’t tell me who he is?”

      “I’m Dalton Matthews. Josh was my half brother.” It wasn’t a term they’d ever used as kids. Their mother used to say that half of anything didn’t matter. They were brothers. Period.

      “No, you’re not. Josh didn’t have any siblings and you have no proof he’s dead. My Josh can’t be dead.” She pivoted and took off running for the car.

      Dalton was more than mad, but he couldn’t lose it, not here. For some reason this woman got under his skin faster than any paparazzi. But she wouldn’t fake that she was his brother’s widow. What if she went to his mom?

      Dalton easily caught up with her in a few steps and gripped her shoulder.

      “Get your hands off me.” She tried dodging his grasp.

      He spun her around to look at him, shining the flashlight in her eyes. “How long were you married?”

      “Four years in January.”

      If Josh had been married, that would explain his frequent absences. Or was Dalton clutching at any straw to keep his mind from straying to the thought of Lauren and Josh together? The flashlight beam swept their graves. He tried