LITMIR.BIZ

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eyed the worn patch on the knee of her jeans. “If it’s a matter of cost, I could…”

      She cut him off. “No. Thank you, I’ll be fine.”

      He’d offended her. Even though his offer was meant to be helpful and it was the most logical solution, she was annoyed. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t. Talking just made things worse, started arguments, raised the level of conflict. Things were so much easier in pararescue. You went in. You saved people and hopefully didn’t get killed in the process. Not one of his saves had ever objected to his methods. He sighed.

      You’re not a pararescueman anymore, Logan. You’re a regular guy who doesn’t understand women. Welcome to the club.

      They drove by a group of workmen erecting a section of raised bleachers on the sidewalk.

      Isabel watched the progress as they passed, stroking Tank’s head where he’d shoved it through the small cab window into the front seat. “What’s going on?”

      He was relieved to have the silence broken. “Getting ready for the Moonlight Ride. It’s a big event to fund the horse rescue efforts in and around this town. They start with a parade and end with a night ride through the Badlands. Your sister…” He knew as soon as he said it, it was another stupid topic. Bring up the girl’s dead sister? Great, Logan. “Lots of locals help out with the festivities.”

      Isabel peeked around Tank’s head. “Was Cassie going to be a part of the event?”

      He sighed. “Yes. She was working with some of her horses, getting them in shape to take participants on the ride. She was passionate about her rescue work, but you know that already, I’m sure.”

      Isabel ducked her head and stared at her hands. “Yes.”

      He tried to keep the conversation going. “John was helping her acclimate the horses to the saddle. They’d ride together at night sometimes.”

      Isabel’s head jerked up. “Was he with her when she died?”

      “No. She took a horse out on her own. Seemed to be heading for the Badlands when she was thrown. John found her when he came to the ranch the next day before sunup and discovered Cassie and Big Blue were gone.” He shifted. “Listen, I’m sorry to bring up your sister. I know it’s painful for you.”

      She shook her head. “It’s okay. I want to know everything about my sister’s life.”

      And her death? Logan had thought the circumstances of Cassie’s last night were strange, but he had dismissed it, until Isabel had come into town. The two encounters with the singing stranger almost convinced him something might be suspicious after all about Cassie’s death. But maybe the strange events had more to do with Isabel’s past than the present. He looked at her profile, the dark hair like a shadow against her porcelain skin, the delicate almond shape of her eyes that spoke of an Asian ancestor. He wondered if anything would ever erase the fear that he’d seen on her face in the cemetery, the way she’d pulled from his touch as if his fingers burned her skin. Who had hurt this woman? And why did the thought of it make him grind his teeth?

      He shook off the feeling and rolled down the window, letting the blast of air barrel into the truck with enough noise to make conversation impossible as they began the climb up the mountain road.

      The ranch was bathed in afternoon sunlight when they arrived, a palette of amber and bronze. To Logan’s mind it was the perfect place, quiet, away from tourists and traffic, with the spectacular Badlands jutting into the sky behind, as if they could stand guard somehow. He wished they could. The twist of uncertainty remained in his gut as they got out of the truck, Tank jumping down to join them.

      The horses nickered softly in the corral. Isabel stopped at the fence to stroke the silky coat of the nearest one. Her hands were tiny and delicate against the wide muzzle of the horse. She laid her head against the animal’s for a moment. Logan had the strangest notion that he’d seen her before, long ago.

      The mixture of loss and frustration on her face made him take a step forward. Should he try to comfort her? Ignore her pain?

      She took a deep breath and pulled away from the horse.

      To give himself something to do, he grabbed the brown bag from the truck and handed it to her. “What’s this?”

      He was surprised to feel his face flush. Blushing? He hadn’t blushed since grade school. “Some supplies. In case you run low.”

      She reached in and extracted a package of Oreos. Her laugh was soft and silvery. “Thank you. I think I’ll carry them around in my pockets, like my sister used to do.”

      He chuckled. “Better not. You’ll have a herd of horses following you everywhere.”

      She looked thoughtful. “Thank you, Logan. For everything. It was a lot for you to do for a stranger, and I appreciate it.”

      Her words sounded as though they’d been pulled out, one by one, painfully presented. “Don’t mention it. You’ve got my number in case you need anything, right?”

      He could see her gathering herself, subtly straightening up to tell him she wasn’t going to need help. They were interrupted by the arrival of Sheila Trigg in a silver truck. She got out and fetched a container from the backseat.

      “Hello, all. John couldn’t be bothered to bring over a casserole, so I did. What’s this I hear about some lunatic bothering you at the cemetery?”

      Logan saw the look of surprise on Isabel’s face. “Nothing stays secret very long here.”

      Sheila moved with them toward the welcome cool of the house. “We’ve never had anything like this happen in our town before, that I’m aware of. Are you sure you didn’t bring this trouble from L.A.?” She laughed as she slid the food into the fridge, but Logan didn’t miss the momentary look of horror that crossed Isabel’s face before she composed herself again.

      Whatever trouble she’d had in L.A. was certainly no joking matter.

      Sheila turned to them again. “Listen, I know you’re probably tired and overwhelmed but I wanted to let you know that John will continue to help you with the horses for as long as you need him. Also, I wanted to offer to help you plan a memorial service for your sister. It’s hard not knowing anyone in town and, let me tell you, there isn’t a soul here I don’t know. I’d be happy to help you with the planning.”

      Isabel’s voice caught as she answered. “That would be very kind.”

      Logan wondered if she was concerned about how to pay for a service. He’d not missed the worn clothing and her beat-up suitcase, too small to hold much of anything.

      Sheila continued. “And everyone will understand if you back out of Moonlight Ride.”

      “Back out?”

      “Well, your sister committed to taking a group out on her horses that night and helping with the meet and greet. Don’t worry, though. We can round up more horses from somewhere, I’m sure.”

      Isabel was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. Logan answered it.

      Officer Bentley tipped his hat and smiled at Sheila. “Afternoon.” He turned a look on Isabel. “Nothing out of the ordinary at the cemetery. Came to photograph the footprints. Can you show me where they are exactly?”

      Sheila joined the party as they headed into the hot afternoon. She kept up a lively conversation. Logan was used to her irrepressible personality and was happy to let her fill the strained silence.

      Isabel walked next to him, shoulders tense and a worried frown on her pale face. She scanned the trees every so often, eyes wide. He hoped she wasn’t heading into another blood sugar plunge. He should have stopped to get sandwiches in town, or a soda at least. In this heat…

      There you go again, Logan. She’s not your responsibility. Just get this done and go home.

      Sheila chattered

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