Buckhorn Beginnings. Lori Foster

“The Mensons could use a pig. They had to sell off a lot of stock lately to build a new barn after theirs almost collapsed from age.”

       Sawyer continued to watch Honey, concerned that she was pushing herself too hard. At the moment, she didn’t look ill so much as astonished. He grinned. Buckhorn was a step back in time, a close community that worked together, which he liked, but it would take some getting used to for anyone out of the area. “Feel free, Jordan. Hell, the last thing I want is another animal to take care of.”

       “They’ll insist on paying something, but I’ll make it real cheap.”

       “Trade for some of Mrs. Menson’s homemade rock candy. Tell her I give it away to the kids when they come, and I’m nearly out.”

       “Good idea.”

       Honey looked around the table at all of them as Casey went to the counter to get the brownies. Her face was so expressive, even before she spoke, he knew she was worried. “You know everyone around here?”

       With a short nod, Sawyer confirmed her suspicions. “We know them, and most people in the surrounding areas. Buckhorn only boasts seven hundred people, give or take a couple dozen or so.”

       Suddenly she blurted out, “Have you told anyone about me?” and Sawyer knew she was talking to everyone, not just him. What the hell was she so afraid of?

       Casey dropped a brownie on the side of her plate, but she barely seemed to notice. Her hands were clenched together on the edge of the table while she waited for an answer.

       “Dad told me not to say anything to anyone,” Casey offered, when no one else spoke up. “So far, I’d say no one knows about you.”

       “Why do you care?” Sawyer waited, but he knew she wouldn’t tell him a damn thing. “Is it because you think these people you claim want to hurt you might follow you here?”

       Morgan, still lounging back in his chair, rubbed his chin. “I could run a check on you, you know.”

       She snorted over that. “If you can, then you already have. But you didn’t find anything, did you?”

       He shrugged, disgruntled by her response to what had amounted to a threat. She didn’t threaten easily.

       Jordan leaned forward. “You say someone is after you. Could it be this fiancé of yours?”

       “Ex-fiancé,” Sawyer clarified, then suffered through the resultant snorts and snickers from his demented brothers.

       “I thought so at first. He…well, he wasn’t happy that I broke things off. He was actually pretty nasty about it, if you want the truth.”

       “Truth would be nice.”

       She glared at Sawyer so ferociously, he almost smiled. But not quite.

       “I think it wounded his pride or something,” she explained. “But regardless of how he carried on, my father is certain it couldn’t be him.”

       “Why?”

       “If you’d ever met Alden, you’d know he doesn’t have a physically aggressive bone in his body. He’d hardly indulge in a dangerous chase. He’s ambitious, intelligent, one of my father’s top men. And my father pointed out how concerned Alden is with appearances and that he’d hardly be the type to cause a scene or run the risk of making the news.” She shrugged. “That’s what my father likes most about him.”

       Sawyer curled his lip, more angered at her father’s lack of support than anything else. “Alden? He sounds like a preppy.”

       “He is a preppy. Very into the corporate image and climbing the higher social ladder, though I didn’t always know that. My father scoffed at the idea that Alden would chase me because regardless of his temper, I wouldn’t be that important to him in his grand scheme of things.”

       He watched her face and knew she was holding something back, but what? Sawyer pushed her, hoping to find answers. “Even though you walked out on him?”

       “I left, I didn’t walk out.”

       “What the hell’s the difference?”

       She sighed wearily. “You make it sound like I staged a dramatic exit. It wasn’t like that at all. I found out he didn’t care about me, I packed up my stuff, wrote him a polite note and left.”

       Her body was tense, her expression carefully neutral. Sawyer narrowed his gaze. “Why did he ask you to marry him in the first place if he didn’t care about you?”

       She closed up on him, her face going blank, and Sawyer knew she still didn’t trust him, didn’t trust any of them. It made him so angry his hands curled into fists. He wasn’t the violent type, but right now, he would relish one of Morgan’s barroom brawls.

       Sawyer surged to his feet to pace. He wanted to shake her; he wanted to pull her up against his body, feel her softness and kiss her silly again until she stopped resisting him, until she stopped fighting. He tightened his thighs, trying for an ounce of logic. “How in hell are we supposed to figure this out if you won’t even answer a few simple questions?”

       Morgan leaned back and stacked his hands behind his head. Jordan propped his chin on a fist. Gabe lifted one brow.

       “You’re not supposed to figure anything out.” Honey drew a deep breath, watching him steadily. “You’re just supposed to let me go.”