LITMIR.BIZ

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about him—when she wasn’t furious with him. How long was it going to take for him to come to his senses and ask her out? They’d both be ninety with one foot in the grave by the time he finally got around to it. If he ever did.

      “Stubborn damned fool,” she said under her breath, all the time hoping he would look back before he disappeared into the café. He didn’t.

      * * *

      THE FIRST THING Deputy Jamison noticed after they left the truck and horse trailer behind and rode into the mountains was the quiet. It hung in the dark, dense pines. The sound of the horses climbing the mountain seemed small and isolated as if nothing could truly disrupt the mountains’ eerie silence.

      Just when he thought he would give anything to break that quiet, the wind came up. A dust devil spun off to his right, appearing to come out of nowhere, and then it was all around them. The wind blowing off the snowy peaks was icy cold and unforgiving. It quickly became a dull roar that was as grating as the silence had been.

      As they rode deeper into the mountains, the gale shrieked. It lay over the tall grass and whipped the pine boughs. He caught glimpses of the terrain ahead, a tableau of sheer rock cliffs and grassy bowls above the tree line.

      With a start, he realized he’d never been this far from civilization before. He could feel the temperature dropping as they ascended the mountain. The day wore on with the gentle rocking of the horse and creaking of his saddle.

      He didn’t know how far they had ridden, only that the air had gotten colder as the weak spring sun inched its way to the west and finally dissolved behind the farthest peak.

      While he’d ridden a horse before, never had he ridden one for this long. He was growing weary of being in the saddle, when Maddie reined in ahead of him. As she dismounted, he glanced at his watch. There was still at least an hour of daylight. “Why are we stopping?”

      “This is where we spend the night,” she said without looking at him.

      He glanced around. She’d stopped at the edge of a stand of pines under a sheer rock face. Ahead there was nothing but wide-open windswept country and more mountain peaks as far as the eye could see.

      “I was hoping we might get far enough that we could see the sheepherder’s camp before dark,” he said.

      “In the first place, we don’t know where that is,” she said, still not looking at him as she began to untie her saddlebag. “Second, this is where we make camp for the night.”

      He couldn’t help himself. “There isn’t a better place to camp?”

      Maddie finally turned to look at him. “This is where we make camp,” she repeated. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and scare up some wood for the fire.”

      “Yes, ma’am,” he said and slid down from his horse. The ground felt good beneath his feet. His posterior ached from the hours in the saddle, but he wasn’t about to mention that to the woman. Nor did he let himself limp in her presence until he could stretch out his legs again.

      “Don’t go too far,” she said, reaching for his reins. “There are grizzlies up here with heads the size of semi steering wheels.”

      “Are you trying to scare me, Mrs. Conner?”

      She chuckled as she led the horses down a small slope that ended in a spot below the rock cliff. Looking closer, he made out what appeared to be a lean-to deep in the pines out of the wind. Closer, the pines at the edge of the stand had been twisted from years of wind and bad weather into grotesque forms.

      Jamison set about gathering firewood. By the time he joined her down by the lean-to, she had unpacked their gear and the food she’d brought.

      This close to the cliff, the wind was no longer buffeting him. It felt good to get out of it for a while, even though he could hear it in the tops of the pines overhead. The boughs moaned and swayed back and forth in a sky that was losing light fast.

      He felt the cold chill of the upcoming night and looked to the mountains ahead, wondering where the sheepherder would be spending it. Or if he was in any shape to care.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      “I SUPPOSE YOU don’t know how to make a fire,” Maddie said as the deputy dropped his load of firewood next to the ring of charred rocks. The ground inside the ring was blackened from other fires. Jamison wondered how many times she’d made camp here, how many fires had burned to ashes to the sound of the wind overhead.

      “Actually, I do know how to build a fire,” he said, kneeling next to the fire ring.

      She glanced at him, pretending surprise. “They taught that at the fancy summer camps you went to?”

      “You don’t like me much, do you?” he said as he set about getting a fire started.

      “It’s nothing personal.”

      He chuckled at that. “I shouldn’t take you calling me a greenhorn personally? Or that you make fun of the way I was brought up?”

      “You are a greenhorn and you were privileged.”

      “But it’s more than that,” he said, looking up at her.

      Her eyes were the deep blue of the sky they’d ridden under all afternoon. Her expression softened. He could see the fear even before she voiced it.

      “I don’t like you coming up here to make a case against Dewey.”

      “If Dewey is innocent—”

      “You’re already convinced he’s not.”

      “I have my doubts about his story, yes.” He lit the small kindling under the larger logs. The flames licked at the dry wood and began to crackle. “I don’t make assumptions. What I know is that Dewey’s lying about something and he’s terrified, not to mention his clothing was covered in blood. Also, according to Dewey, your sheepherder is apparently missing.”

      “Once we find Branch...” Maddie looked past the fire to the peaks in the distance “...I’m sure he’ll clear this all up.”

      Jamison heard the hope and saw the worry. It mirrored his own.

      Maddie cooked a simple meal that they ate around the fire, both quiet, both lost apparently in their own thoughts. The only sound was wind high in the pines and the soft crackle of the fire as darkness seemed to drop over them without warning.

      Jamison had never seen such blackness. Up here in these mountains the dark appeared to have a life of its own. It became a hulking beast crouched just beyond the glow of the campfire.

      While it made him uneasy not knowing what was out there—maybe whatever had scared Dewey Putman so badly?—Maddie seemed content here. Jamison had little fear of the animals. It was humans and what they were capable of that kept him awake at night.

      The fire flickered, casting golden light on Maddie’s face, and he glimpsed the beautiful woman she’d been when she was younger. It was nothing like the quiet beauty she had now, though. There was a tranquil magnificence in her that sneaked up on him. That she was capable and self-assured only added to that beauty.

      She brushed back an errant strand of hair as if she felt him watching her. He saw irritation in the movement. She was a woman used to spending most of her days alone, he realized. She wasn’t used to a man looking at her—maybe especially the way he was. He found her intriguing equally in her strength—and her vulnerability.

      “I really would like to know more about you,” he said as the silence stretched taut between them.

      She glanced up at him, pretending to be surprised to find him sitting across from her. “Are you asking as a deputy?”

      “No, I just thought since we’re going to be spending time together—”

      She rose abruptly, dusting her hands off on her jeans. “Then I can’t imagine why you’d have

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