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  Jenna buried her face in Summer’s shoulder and shook her head. “No. Baby Jane is. She’s scared. But she’s just a crybaby.”

  “Is this Baby Jane? She looks awfully young to me. How come I didn’t know about her?”

  Leaning back so she could look up at her, Jenna said, “I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell anyone. Baby Jane stays in the closet.”

  “But, why? She’s pretty. Why keep her in the closet?”

  “Mama gave me Baby Jane when I was little. I didn’t want Daddy to know I still had her. He was real hurt when Mama left us. You…you won’t tell him?”

  Summer couldn’t help herself; she hugged Jenna close to her breast. “No, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.” She sniffed back the welling tears. “So, you come in here and sing to your doll when you both get scared?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You know, sometimes I get scared, too.”

  “You do?” Jenna looked thoughtful for a moment. “You could come here and hold Baby Jane if you want.”

  Summer felt the smile breaking through her tears and opened her heart without thinking. “Thank you. But I’d rather you and me hold on to each other when we’re scared. Think that would be okay?”

  Another thoughtful moment passed. “That would be okay,” Jenna answered quietly.

  Summer bit her lip and took a deep breath. “Are you getting hungry? It’s almost dinnertime.”

  Jenna nodded. “Can I go to the barn first?”

  “I was hoping we could go out there together after dinner. Your daddy’s foreman gave me lessons on taking care of the horses today, and I wanted to show you what I learned. Think you could check on my progress?”

  Without answering, Jenna reached up and hugged her neck. Summer choked back the sob that threatened. Somehow, she and this lonely little girl had crossed a barrier today. And she wasn’t too sure she was worthy.

  * * *

  Travis was tired and cranky by the time he got back to the ranch. It was late. On the way home he’d stopped at Stockard’s garage and then swung by and checked on his aunt. She was always “doing just fine” whenever he asked. But the older woman lived alone and didn’t have any children of her own, so he liked letting her know he’d be there if she needed him.

  Tonight Auntie June’s attitude was not the problem. She had several friends over at her house playing cards, and she was in good spirits. It was as he left her house that Travis had gotten a call from his foreman, asking for a rare late-night meeting outside the family’s barn. That could mean a big problem.

  Travis knew danged well his second in command would be up tomorrow long before the sunrise to start his day. Chores and emergencies on a ranch didn’t slow down just because a cowboy was tired.

  So Travis had agreed to meet with Barrett because whatever the foreman needed at this hour, it would be important.

  As he stepped out of his SUV and turned, Travis spotted Barrett waiting for him across the yard. He walked over, wishing he’d had a chance to stop in and check on Summer and Jenna first. Maybe whatever problem Barrett had wouldn’t take too long to solve.

  “Good evening, Barrett. You’re working late tonight.”

  Barrett Johnson was only a few years older than Travis, but he’d been working for the Bar-C for as long as Travis could remember. Tall and lean, grizzled from years of working the cattle, Barrett made the perfect picture of a Texas cattleman. Travis wasn’t sure how he’d do his job without him.

  Barrett shook his hand. “Glad you’re back, boss. And it’s not so late. A few minutes ago I sent a couple of the hands out to make nightly rounds. I do them myself most nights, but I needed to speak to you tonight.”

  “Is this going to take a while? Want a cup of coffee?”

  Barrett cleared his throat and shook his head. Travis expected a grin out of his old wrangler friend. But the man’s expression was stone-cold sober tonight. Uh-oh.

  “This won’t take long. I just wanted to catch you up on a couple of things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, first off, you were right about those saddle cinches you asked me to check the other day. I finally caught a moment to really inspect them. And sure enough, the two right-side cinches had been tampered with. Neatly sliced, right through the leather. Someone wanted to make it look like normal wear. But as you know, we inspect for normal wear every day, so I looked closer.”

  “And you’re sure?”

  “Oh, yeah. Someone took the time to make dozens of almost invisible cuts in the leather, so that any sudden forceful movement by the rider would make the leather slip and slide on the horse’s back. Sneaky. Good thing you’d asked for the most docile mare we own. Any other horse would’ve killed the rider to get that saddle off.”

  Yeah, that’s what Travis had been afraid of. “Any ideas concerning who would do such a thing?”

  “I questioned the two hands I’d asked to saddle the horses that day, but they didn’t notice any wear as they did the job. They’ve both been with us for years, boss. It wasn’t them.”

  “Okay. Well, the culprit will turn up sooner or later.” He turned to head for the warmth of the kitchen.

  “Uh, that’s not all of it,” Barrett called after him.

  Travis turned back and felt a chill having nothing to do with the night air rolling down his spine. “What else?”

  “We’ve suddenly had a series of small accidents around the ranch. The electric lights on a stock pond were cross wired and nearly electrocuted one of our prize Santa Gertrudis bulls. Then your brother Sam’s head horse wrangler, riding his best stallion, tangled himself up in a roll of barbed wire that shouldn’t have been left out on the range.”

  “Was he hurt badly?” Barbed wire was dangerous stuff. Deadly when used wrong and easy to miss on an open range.

  “Lucky. Both rider and horse. Turned out the wrangler needed over a hundred stitches, but he’s back to work now. His horse, on the other hand, only needed a few stitches and had simple bruises down his foreleg from the fall. Most wranglers would rather save their horse than themselves.”

  Travis definitely did not like the idea of these little accidents happening all at once. “Get the word out. Everyone needs to be super-careful for a while. You and I will start an investigation into who might’ve had the opportunity or would’ve wished the Bar-C harm.”

  “Listen, boss, I think…”

  At that moment the sound of one of the hands yelling came from somewhere around the other side of the barn and caught their attention. The two of them headed off at a run to find out what was wrong and found the cowboy frantically waving at them.

  “The newest foal!” the hand said on a gasp. “The little girl’s pride and joy. I think she’s dying!”

  Barrett took him by the arm and squeezed hard enough to force the man to pay attention and calm down. “What exactly happened and where is the filly now?”

  “Someone left the feed-storage room open. The door we’re always supposed to lock up for the night. It’s wide open and the foal’s inside, rolling on the floor!”

  Travis didn’t wait to hear the rest. A horse that overeats could easily give itself colic, and colic was well known as a potential killer of horses. Especially for one that was barely weaned.

  “Get the vet out here now,” Travis yelled over his shoulder as he headed for the feed room.

  As he ran, his thoughts weren’t on the colicky foal, but on Jenna. His little girl had been acting subdued lately. He’d recognized the signs. She was worried about Rosie’s leaving. But he hadn’t known what to do to help.

  Mercy. How much worse would it be if her little horse died, too?

  Chapter 12

  Summer sat straight up in bed, shoving aside the cobwebs still clogging her brain from another terrifying nightmare. What a dream. Her quarry, Hoss, had been chasing her. And as he was about to catch up, she fell into a deep hole and woke up.

  Tremors rocked her body and her stomach churned with the remn
ants of nighttime terrors. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table told her it was past 1:00 a.m. Throwing back the covers, she scrambled to the side of the bed, needing desperately to put her feet on solid ground.

  Sitting at the edge, feet firmly planted on the floorboards, she buried her head in her hands and took long, slow breaths in and out. Was she dissolving back into the madness that had kept her captive for so long after the murders? But why? She felt sure she’d been cured. Even though the doctors had told her that it might take many more years.

  She sorted through all the things she’d learned over the last few years of talking to professionals that might help now. Her last psychologist had said extreme stress could send her right back into therapy. But she didn’t feel stressed. Not at all. It felt as if someone was chasing her. And that didn’t make any sense.

  Calm down and think it through.

  Could these reeling emotions be due to Jenna, and the idea of a different child holding a spot in her heart where her own daughter’s memory belonged? That idea didn’t sit quite right either.

  Her grief for her lost child continued to this day, fierce and biting. And it probably always would. But she’d finally come to the realization that grief could be manageable, and believed she’d dealt rather successfully with the worst of the pain—except for the lingering guilt. Obviously, however, she hadn’t solved all her problems. Something new must be causing the nightmares.

  Maybe it had to do with her growing attraction to Travis. Since their night of making love, it had become more and more frustrating to have to keep telling herself she would be leaving the ranch someday soon. Frustration? Yes, on several fronts. At not seeing Travis for more than a few minutes at a time since their one night. And at not being able to tell him the truth about why she’d originally come to the ranch. And…at not yet finding her man.

  Hadn’t she heard somewhere that frustration could wreak havoc with the nervous system if it became a constant state? And she definitely remembered one of her earliest psychologists cautioning her to keep her body healthy. He’d said staying physically fit would help ease the terrible frustration she’d felt at not being able to save her child. Exercise was the key.

  Only one kind of exercise interested her lately.

  Drawing in a deep breath and fighting the nausea from leftover anxiety, Summer tried to stand on shaky legs. She needed to get out of this room and its dark shadows. Finally, not feeling too steady but at least upright, without turning on the light, she grabbed her old robe and tore out into the hall.

  She considered having a warm glass of milk; another way of lessening nighttime stress she’d learned from one of her doctors. It might be worth a try. And besides, she was always happiest while in the kitchen.

  Tiptoeing down the staircase so as not to wake Travis and Jenna, she made her way to the back of the house. But as she approached the kitchen, she saw light streaming from under the door. Voices came from the other side.

  Someone else was up at this hour? Was something wrong? The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up as she came nearer the kitchen door.

  She felt sure that if it was something very bad, Travis would’ve awoken her. Not willing to barge into the middle of trouble without an abundance of caution, she put her ear close to the door and listened.

  One of the voices was Travis’s; she easily recognized it. And unless she missed her best guess, the other voice belonged to Barrett, the ranch foreman she’d spent the day with learning about the horses. They were keeping their tones low but seemed to be having a disagreement.

  “I don’t know what you two have going on,” Barrett was saying, “but the whole town knows she’s…well, if not downright crazy, at least eccentric.”

  “What do you mean by the whole town? If you’re talking about Old Lady Wheeler, she’s the crazy one.” Travis’s tone made it sound as if he was on the verge of losing his temper.

  “Everyone’s talking about the weird woman who drove into Chance all alone in a beat-up heap of a car—without a plan and without any family nearby. That’s nuts and you know it. Even the sheriff has been out here a couple of times asking about her. Who else would do something as nutty as that, except a crazy person or maybe someone on the run?”

  They were talking about her. Summer’s pulse kicked up and she had trouble hearing their conversation over the pounding of her heart.

  “Summer is not crazy.” It sounded as though Travis was gritting his teeth to form the words. “Or weird. Or eccentric. She’s had a tough past. But quite a few of the residents in Chance have had just as bad. Some far worse.”

  Travis’s tone dropped to a near whisper. “And as far as the sheriff is concerned, you can tell him the next time you see him that she doesn’t drink or do drugs. She’s never been in jail. The law’s not looking for her, and she doesn’t have an abusive ex chasing her. Take my word for it—she would never harm a living soul. I trust her completely.”

  Why were they having this conversation about her at one o’clock in the morning? Summer didn’t understand any of it. Cowering outside the door, she tried to hear more without letting them know she was listening.

  “But she did do a lot of harm, boss. It had to be her. She and Jenna were the last ones out of the barn tonight. And Jenna knows better than to leave the feed-room door open. In fact, I’m positive I also told Summer about keeping that door closed when I was showing her around this afternoon. But she seemed a little out of it at the time. You know—whoo-whoo?”

  Left the feed-room door open? Had she? No. She could swear she remembered closing that door. But what had happened to cause all the fuss? Why did it matter? She held her breath and waited to hear what the consequences had been of leaving the door open.

  “It wasn’t Summer.” Now Travis’s tone made it sound that at least he was convinced, even if she wasn’t. “Put that theory out of your head and look for some other reason why the door was found open. I’ve got my own problems at the moment. The vet said the foal is going to pull through, so at least I don’t have to tell Jenna her horse is gone. But I’m probably going to have to tell her it didn’t look too good there for a while, and she’ll have to stay away from the filly for a couple of weeks until it’s completely well.”

  Jenna’s horse? Oh. My. God. Summer felt light-headed, and her knees buckled under her. She slumped hard against the swinging door.

  * * *

  Travis turned to the noise and found Summer collapsing through the doorway to the kitchen floor. “Summer!”

  Rushing to her side, he pulled her up off the floor and into his arms. Damn. How much had she heard?

  He carried her over to one of the kitchen chairs and slipped her onto the seat. “Hang on. Let me get you a glass of water.” He made sure she was propped against the table and wouldn’t fall out of the chair.

  Turning, he spied Barrett, looking rather helpless while fidgeting on one foot by the back door. “Go see if the vet needs anything else,” Travis told him as he ran to the fridge. “Then try to grab an hour or two of sleep. The night’s almost gone. We’ll start another investigation tomorrow.”

  “Okay, boss.” Barrett’s hesitant expression clearly said he was embarrassed that Summer might have heard him calling her crazy.

  Travis could not afford to have the best foreman in the entire state feeling uncomfortable around anyone in the household. It would make the man’s job untenable, and Travis had no intention of trying to replace the foreman he’d counted on for nearly eight years over simply a few unthinking words said in the heat of the moment. He also had no intention of letting Summer leave the household. His plan was to keep her on the ranch for as long as he possibly could. Everyone had to get along.

  “Stop by tomorrow morning,” he told Barrett. “All of us will talk this through. Maybe we can come up with a solution for finding who left the door open.”

  Barrett sent him an appreciative glance and nodded his head. “I’ve already stationed a couple of hands in the ba
rn. They’re sitting with the vet in case he needs anything else. I’ll see you in the morning.” Lifting his chin and settling his hat more firmly on his head, Barrett turned and walked out the door.

  Travis would work on that little problem more tomorrow. Tonight would be devoted to easing the guilt and pain he knew Summer would be feeling.

  Quickly filling a glass with water he went to her side and knelt on the floor beside her. “Here you go.” He lifted the glass to her lips as she raised her head.

  “No, no, no,” she sobbed. “How could I do something so stupid? The whole town must be right. I must be going crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy. Take a little sip, please, so we can talk about this.”

  He’d been hesitant to tell her of his suspicions that someone was playing nasty tricks on the Bar-C. He’d told himself that the reasons for his silence stemmed from trying his best to shield her from anything dirty and potentially dangerous. But the truth was, he also feared that, if she knew, she might want to leave any potential danger—and him—far behind.

  He realized now that in a certain way he’d been trying to control her. And after he’d promised himself he would never do that to anyone again. Especially not to her.

  It was past time to come clean and hope she would understand. And stay, despite his failings.

  She held the glass with trembling hands, but managed to swallow half the water before setting it down. “You don’t understand, Travis. I have been crazy in the past. I spent two years in intensive therapy, just so I could manage to live on my own again. It’s entirely possible I need to go back on the meds. I don’t remember leaving that door open, but I could have.”

  She looked totally miserable, full of self-doubt and blaming herself. He would give up a lot to be able to hold her in his arms and show her that he was convinced she hadn’t been at fault. But now didn’t seem like the right time for too much intimacy. Not yet. He slipped into another chair and pulled it in as close to hers as possible.

  Sliding an arm around her shoulders, he whispered in her ear, “You did not leave the door open. Get that thought out of your head. I’m sorry for not telling you before, but I didn’t want to worry you. Tonight is only one of a series of supposed accidents around the Bar-C.”