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  “Nothing, Carl,” Cole said, giving Deacon the stink eye. “Just remarking on how we’d never seen the guy before.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. When he stayed here, he didn’t go to school or nothing. And he was only around a short time. ’Bout a dozen years ago, I think it was. Something happened to his daddy and he was up and gone from here before his boots had time to settle in the River Black dirt.”

  The words went into Cole’s brain, setting off a roar so startling he lost his breath for a second. He glanced over at Deac. Oh yeah, he’d heard it too.

  Neither one of them said a word as they made their way over to the garden beds. Cole’s heart was hammering in his chest. Painful-like. For the first time in a long time, he felt the rustle of fear move through him.

  Standing close to six feet with light brown hair and eyes, the man looked both amazed and trepidatious as Cole and Deacon approached.

  “Evenin’,” Deacon said, his voice reed thin.

  The man nodded. “Hi there.” His accent was strange. West Coast. He turned to Cole, his gaze wide and intrigued. “Do I know you?”

  “You’re looking at me like you do,” Cole said. He didn’t know how to feel. Didn’t know what he wanted to happen. But he knew whatever it was, it was coming his way full force.

  “It’s just . . .” The man shook his head. “You look like someone. Someone I used to know. It’s just kind of shocking.”

  “A girl?” Cole asked tightly.

  Warm recognition lit the man’s eyes. “Yes.”

  Deacon blew out a breath. And Cole knew without a shadow of a doubt that the man standing before him was the boy known as Sweet.

  Twenty

  Grace was unsure if she belonged. Not seated beside Cole, but at this table, hearing this discussion.

  A little over an hour before, Cole had come up to her at Caleb’s reception, his face twisted into a mask of pain, shock, anger, hope, and fear. He’d told her he’d needed to go, that something had come up that trumped everything. He’d told her that Carl Shurbot or Eli Appleton would take her and her father home—or if she was more comfortable, she could take his truck. He’d get a ride with Deacon.

  For one brief moment, she’d stared at him. Wanting to ask, wanting him to tell her what was happening. But his eyes spoke volumes about the torment going on inside his soul, so she’d enlisted the help of one of her father’s closest friends, Cory Craft, to take him back to the care center, and she’d gone with Cole.

  The ride in his truck had been a silent affair. She didn’t ask him what was happening or where they were going. Just put her hand over his as he palmed the gearshift and held on tight. The contact seemed to make him breathe easier. Even when he pulled into the driveway of the Triple C. Even when they went inside, sat down together at the large table in the Cavanaugh family’s kitchen.

  The man they’d all come here to see and talk to was seated between Deacon and James, across from Cole and her. He wore relaxed clothing, had a healthy tan, and longish sun-touched hair. He appeared nervous but resolute, as if glad this time had come.

  “I knew she had brothers,” Billy Felthouse said, looking from one to the other. “Knew you were protective, as you should be. But we both kept our families out of it.”

  Deacon didn’t like that at all. He glared at the man but didn’t interrupt him. Each of the Cavanaugh brothers had come there to finally hear and see and know a piece of the puzzle. And nothing—not even their brotherly protectiveness—was going to get in the way of that.

  “It started innocent and ended innocent, I promise you.” A faint smile touched his lips. “She was a life force, that one. Felt it from the moment we met in the candy aisle of the dime store. I was buying SweeTarts—”

  “That’s where the name came from,” Mac interrupted passionately, looking from the man to Deacon. “I thought it was because she thought you were so sweet.”

  He nodded. “I was Sweet and she was Tarts. And boy did that fit her.” He laughed. “She was a tough, bright, spunky girl.”

  Cole’s hand tightened around Grace’s. It felt hot and a little sweaty, and she knew this had to be insanely painful for him. Hearing about his twin in the past tense. But maybe, just maybe, it would give him some sense of peace.

  “Did you know she’d been taken?” Deacon asked, his tone unemotional, as if he was talking to a work colleague instead of the man who’d been so close to their sister.

  Billy shook his head. “Like I told you back at Carl’s place, I was gone by then. Left for California on the eleventh of May. I remember because it was her birthday the next day and I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye. I thought I’d be able to contact her after things got settled. But my dad was really sick, and we were all consumed with it. It’s why I came to River Black and stayed with my uncle Caleb in the first place, to give my mom a break—me a break.” His eyes clouded. “Cass was taken on the fifteenth. My dad died two days before that. We were planning his funeral. I haven’t been back here until now.” He exhaled heavily. “When I heard Cass was . . . when she passed away, I wanted to reach out, but it didn’t feel right, and I was going through so much with my own dad’s death and my mother’s grief, and just trying to hold on emotionally and every other way. I was a mess.”

  His face a mask of pain, James asked through gritted teeth, “You didn’t think to get in touch with her family?”

  “I didn’t honestly think I had anything to offer. I’d been gone for months by the time I heard what had happened. And no one tried to contact me or my mother. So I thought it was best. I didn’t want to stir up trouble.”

  The men just glared at him. Mac too. And Elena moved silently around them with coffee, tea, and some sandwiches, which remained untouched.

  “Were you ashamed of your relationship with Cass?” Cole asked between tightly clenched teeth. “Is that why you kept it a secret?”

  “No.” The man looked appalled at the thought. “Granted, I was a little older than her—”

  “Too old,” Deacon ground out.

  The man nodded. “Four years. I was barely seventeen. Maybe that wasn’t right. But I don’t think that’s why we kept things to ourselves. For me anyway, I didn’t want anything to spoil it. I was having a hard time, and I found such peace and happiness when I was around her. Romance was such a small part. We kissed a couple of times. No . . . it was a friendship. She was there for me when I didn’t feel like I had anyone.” He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. “I wish I had been there for her.”

  Silence fell around the table as each brother took that in. And, Grace believed, wished the very same thing. No doubt, had been wishing it for a long time.

  “She had a diary,” Mac said softly, looking so vulnerable and sad Grace wanted to reach across the table and hug her. “Did you know about it?”

  Billy shook his head. “Not surprised, though.” His smile was gentle. “She liked to talk and work things out. She reminds me of my daughter.”

  “You have a family?” Grace asked, then pulled herself back. She didn’t want to butt in where she didn’t belong.

  He took out his phone, set it on the table. “That’s my wife, Darcy. And my little girl, Hannah. She’s two going on twenty.”

  He turned it around so everyone could take a look at the screen. Grace only glanced at it. She was too busy looking at the brothers. Misery floated like storm clouds behind each set of eyes. They seemed deflated, not knowing what to say or where to go from here. After years of wondering, they now finally had some answers. Yes, he existed. No, he claimed, he had nothing to do with her death. They’d be sure to see that his story checked out. Hell, Deacon probably already had his lead detective on it. But Cole knew that a guilty man wouldn’t be sitting here in the kitchen of the Triple C ranch. He’d have run the second he saw Cole or Deacon or James. Probably wouldn’t have come to River Black at all. Funeral or no fune
ral.

  “Her death is still unsolved,” James said, heat-laced frustration in his tone. “I’m starting to think we’ll never know the truth.”

  Billy was grave. “I’m so sorry. For all of you. You have no idea how sorry. If I can help in any way . . .”

  “Do you remember anything from back then?” Deacon pushed, though he seemed as emotionally wrecked and exhausted as the rest. “Anyone who may have disliked Cass?”

  “I can’t imagine it,” Billy said. “And I didn’t see it. She was great to everybody, treated everybody with a smile. And they loved her for it.”

  Grace turned to Cole. He was nodding. Probably not even aware of it. She squeezed his hand.

  “Anyone that she talked about . . . being scared of?” Deacon continued. “Or who worried her?”

  That made Billy pause. “Well, she did think—we both thought—we were being followed at one point.”

  “Followed,” Cole repeated.

  Deacon turned to Mac. “She ever say anything about that to you?”

  Mac shook her head and her eyes filled with tears. No doubt she was wondering why her best friend hadn’t shared any of this with her.

  “It bothered her a lot,” Billy continued. “She was scared it was one of you. Or her parents. That you’d found us out.”

  Cole’s eyes were pinned to the man. “Do you know who it was?”

  He nodded, sniffed. “It was nothing. Turned out to be my crazy cousin.”

  “Natalie?” Mac said.

  “I’m sure you’re aware she has some issues . . . I’m embarrassed to say it, but she had a crush on me.” He shook his head. “Would follow us around.”

  Cole turned to Grace. The photographs in the newspaper, his eyes said. She nodded.

  “Caleb talked to her,” Billy continued. “Helped her understand how inappropriate that was, and she stopped. Even became friends with Cass. Which was good.”

  “Caleb,” James ground out. “Did you know your uncle tried to kill my fiancée?”

  Billy looked instantly horrified. “I knew he was in jail for something, but my side of the family hasn’t been close with theirs in years. I only came as a courtesy. He took me in all those years ago when my mom was caring for my dad and I needed . . . Christ, I thought I owed him that.” He looked at Sheridan. “I’m so sorry.”

  She smiled. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

  “He said something to me,” James continued, his ocean-blue eyes fierce with hatred. “After I pulled him off Sheridan at Mac and Deacon’s wedding. He claimed to know who took Cass, who killed her.”

  Billy’s eyes widened. “You don’t think that’s true? You don’t think he—”

  “Oh hell, I wish that were the case,” James said. “But it turns out your uncle had an alibi that night, so no. He was boasting that he knew who it was, though.”

  “He might’ve just been trying to get you off him, James,” Cole said tightly. “I know how men get when your hands are wrapped around their neck. They’ll say whatever they have to to get away.”

  “I know you believe that,” James ground out, tossing Cole a dark glare. “Not sure I do.”

  “Poor Natalie,” Mac said, shaking her head. “Caleb Palmer for a father, and not being able to get back to the bakery, the one thing she loves. The one thing that gave her the attention she so obviously craved.”

  Billy nodded. “She was always looking for attention and affection. Being an only child was hard on her. We used to have great fun when we were younger. When our families were closer, and we came out here sometimes. We were Cowgirl and Cowboy, riding the range. She always wanted to live on a ranch.”

  “What did you say?” a male voice cut in.

  Billy glanced over to the stove. Blue was leaning against the counter. Though he wanted to hear what was going on, clearly he had an aversion to sitting with the Cavanaughs. Maybe it was because they had yet to accept him as such.

  “She always wanted to live on a ranch,” Billy repeated. “She coveted that life. Growing up here and having a house in town was—”

  “No,” Blue interrupted fiercely. “What you called each other.”

  “Oh. Cowboy and Cowgirl?”

  The man’s face turned ashen.

  “Blue?” Mac said. “What’s wrong?”

  Two fiery sapphire eyes rested on her; then he shook his head and turned away, left the kitchen. Mac pushed back her chair and followed him. Elena too, setting down the coffeepot on the counter as she went.

  “Did I say something?” Billy asked.

  “Seems we’re all hearing shocking things today,” Deacon said. He stood up and released a breath. “Why don’t I take you back to your hotel? I think we all need to sit with this for a while. I’ll be checking things out. Making sure what you say is truth.”

  “Of course,” Billy said, coming to his feet. “I’ll give you all my contact information. Feel free to call or e-mail me with any questions.” He looked at both Cole and James. “And again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  * * *

  Anger threatened to pierce Blue’s calm, cold exterior as he stood on the front porch and dealt with the problem at hand.

  “Blue, please.” His mother was hovering just inside the door, wanting to step out onto the porch and join her son and Mac, but hesitating as she felt the frost coming from his direction. “Whatever it is, whatever happened in there, I want to help you.”

  Something pinged in his chest as he looked at the woman who’d raised him, loved him. And lied to him. “I don’t want your help.”

  “Blue,” Mac started, warning lacing her tone.

  “What?” he snapped, glancing her way.

  “Ease up.” She gave him a shocked look. She’d never seen him this way. She had better get used to it.

  “No, it’s fine, Mackenzie,” Elena said, trying to keep her voice light. “I’m not going to push him. But I’m here for you, Blue.” She backed up a few steps. “And I hope someday you can forgive me.”

  “Elena, wait,” Mac called after her. But the woman was gone, closing the front door behind her. She turned to Blue. “Unbelievable.”

  “I agree,” he said, walking over to the railing. “She won’t give up.”

  “Not her, you jerkoff. You!” She followed him. Stood beside him. Stared at him while he looked out at the land beyond. It was vast and dark, the trees and outbuildings just shapes in the distance.

  “I love you like a brother, Blue,” she said. “But if you don’t stop treating her like shit, I’m going to pound your ass into the ground.”

  There was a time when this worked. This banter back and forth. She as the big sister. He the hired hand and best friend who took any and all advice she dished out. But not anymore.

  He looked over at her. “I love you too, Mac. But you don’t get to decide how I feel anymore.”

  She looked shocked. “I’m not trying to.”

  “Yeah, you are,” he countered. “And it’s gotten worse ever since Everett passed and the land was split four ways. You want what you want and that’s fine. But no one gets to tell me how to react to what’s happened here. How to feel. What to do. What’s right. None of it.”

  She stared at him hard, pointed at the front door. “What happened in there? Just now? Because I know this isn’t all about my advice and meddling ways.”

  A quick smile touched his lips. “What happened was that I realized for the first time that I have no one I can trust.”

  Mac looked as if he’d just slapped her across the face. Too bad Blue didn’t much give a damn tonight.

  “Go back in there,” he said. “To your husband.”

  Tears pricked her eyes. “I don’t know who you are.”

  “I’m a Cavanaugh,” he said evenly. “And the man who is soon to be your boss.”

  Then he turned away
and headed down the porch steps.

  Twenty-one

  Seconds after they were out of the car, Cole had Grace in his arms. His mouth crushed over hers in a sweeping, hungry kiss that made her gasp. His mind went blank—white-page, gray-screen blank—and he took her up the porch steps with him. Her purse fell to the ground and he slid the sweater from her shoulders.

  She moaned against him, and for a second their teeth clashed. Then they were at it again. He knew she could feel his cock against her stomach, knew she wanted it. And he wanted to give it to her.

  Blank screen.

  Just feel. She’s all you want. All you need right now.

  Somehow she got the door open and they stumbled inside. His hand slipped under her silk top and raked up her hot skin until he found her breast. He cupped her, squeezed her, then tucked his fingers inside her bra and played with her nipple.

  “Oh God,” she rasped between kisses. “Cole . . .”

  He kicked the door shut with his boot and pressed her back against it, his free hand pinning hers above her head. “I need you,” he said, rolling her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “Shit, I never thought I’d say those words.”

  “You have me,” she whispered. “And you know, I’ll be there for the fight.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he rasped, then leaned in and kissed her neck so hard she gasped and tried to get free. “I need you. I need all of you.” His mouth was on her collarbone. Her skin was so soft. “Tell me you want this. You want me.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it—asking for it—but he was.

  “I want you more than anything,” she said breathlessly.

  “Then let me take you to bed. Forget about everything that’s happened, everything that’s coming. Block out the whole goddamned world with me.”

  She stilled beneath him.

  “Come on, Doc. Please.”

  “No.” The word came out in a rush of air.

  Cole lifted his head and took her mouth again. This time in a gentle, urging kiss.