Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire. Linda O. Johnston

she bring up the subject, explain it now to Casey?

      No. If he’d been snooping, that was his problem. And she hadn’t talked about her prior life much since she’d moved here, didn’t necessarily want to do so now. Wanted to keep that difficult time behind her. She had definitely moved on.

      If Casey asked about it, she’d answer. But right now, he just seemed to be quiet and didn’t interrogate her as a sheriff’s deputy might.

      Not that her prior ID should have made him suspicious of anything. She was a good, law-abiding citizen who was now trying to find whoever had stolen her employer’s valuable cattle, get those cattle back to the ranch where she worked and then go about her usual life once more. She hadn’t been involved in the theft, and to her knowledge no one had even considered the remote possibility that she was.

      Except, perhaps, for Casey. He was a law-enforcement officer and he might have seen something that didn’t quite fit with what he’d previously been told.

      Whether or not that was the case, it now felt uncomfortable just riding beside Casey so quietly. They’d at least chatted before about the pasture and where the other cattle were currently ranging and what it was like to work on a ranch.

      Working on a ranch. She had an idea how to start a potentially lighthearted conversation.

      “Okay.” She glanced over at Casey. His handsome face, which looked as if it had been chiseled from stone, was expressionless as he stared forward. Then he turned his head to look at her.

      “‘Okay’ what?” he asked, still straight-faced.

      “I like how you’re now doing on horseback out here. Let’s see how you do when we find the cattle. Of course, you’re the law-enforcement guy and I know you’ll need to take the thieves into custody.”

      “I intend to,” he said, remaining solemn. “If there are a lot of them, I’ll call for backup, assuming I get phone service out here as Clarence said we would, and if not we’ll just follow carefully behind them until I can get a team to join us and arrest them.”

      “Right. But meantime, I’m now considering that you should have an alternate career. You’re doing great riding. I’ll have to see how you do with the cattle when we find them, but you look good up there, sitting on the horse and scouring the pasture with your gaze. I think you should consider becoming a ranch hand. Maybe even a cowboy yourself someday.”

      He pulled slightly on Witchy’s reins, stopping her.

      “You’re kidding.” He stared at Melody, and she stopped Cal. Casey’s brown eyebrows arched even higher over his attractive blue eyes, a quizzical expression on his face—a good change from before, when he had no expression at all.

      “Could be.” She grinned widely at him. Then she attempted to grow more serious. “But what do you think of being here on the ranch? I mean, if you weren’t trying to find stolen cattle, would you like riding here? Not just riding a horse, but riding one in this kind of environment? You don’t necessarily have to herd cattle to be here, either.”

      “So you think I should become a ranch hand? You don’t think I’m a good sheriff’s deputy?”

      She laughed and gently kicked Cal to get him moving again. Casey also gave Witchy a slight nudge so she started walking again, too.

      Melody then looked at Casey. “I’m still sizing you up, Deputy. As far as I know, you’re good at what you do. I think you’d be good at this, too. Could be that you can handle anything that life throws your way, right?”

      “That’s what I believe. In fact, I’m sure of it, but—”

      “Great. I wanted to be sure that the man accompanying me on this potentially dangerous outing is smart and brave enough to handle it.”

      “I assumed you already thought so or we wouldn’t be out here like this.”

      “As I said, I wanted to be sure.” With that, she again gently kicked her horse and Cal’s speed increased.

      So did Witchy’s, beside them.

      Oh, yes, she’d already accepted that Casey was one good deputy, or his boss wouldn’t have allowed him to be the one to take on this chase out here in the kind-of wilderness. To be the one to find the bad guys in this situation and either take them down himself—with her limited help—or get some colleagues to sneak in wherever they happened to be and help him out.

      But all she’d wanted to do now was get them talking again. In a friendly manner.

      Maybe also get him to reveal what was on his mind, although she believed she knew that part.

      Why not just ask him? She might, if he continued to remain less friendly than he’d been before. It didn’t make sense to be out here with someone who perhaps had some suspicions or concerns about her and didn’t reveal them.

      And…well, heck. She didn’t really know much about him, either. Only that he was an officer of the law who’d been given this difficult assignment, including working with an unknown: her. She’d liked him before, and he’d seemed to like her.

      And now? Well, who knew? But did she want to spend more time with this man out here without them getting along well?

      Should she attempt to fix it by telling him all about her prior life?

      Maybe so. But she wouldn’t unless he asked.

      Though she could find out more about him by asking some questions of her own—eventually.

      But not now. Not until she could think this through.

      What had that been all about? Casey wondered. Although he thought he might know.

      She might have seen him peek into her wallet after all, even though she appeared to be engrossed in checking out the cattle GPS.

      But why hadn’t she just asked him?

      Or should he have been the one to bring it up first?

      Maybe so. And maybe he would bring it up sometime. For now, though…

      Their horses were walking fairly fast, but the ground below them had started to become rougher, and he felt it in the way the saddle bumped his butt harder now as his horse’s hooves hit the uneven surface. He pulled slightly on Witchy’s reins. “Slow down, girl,” he said, then looked ahead as Melody, on Cal, passed them. “Yeah, you, too,” he called to his favorite—and somewhat difficult, at least right now—ranch hand. “Slow down.” And you, too. Call “whoa” on your attraction to Melody.