Boone smiled over at her. “Your best friend, huh?”

  Letty blushed. She hadn’t meant to go on so.

  “So let me guess,” he said glancing at her small leather clutch on the dashboard. “Dusty was the one I saw down by the corrals after the rodeo?”

  She wasn’t going to admit that her very smart, very capable best friend had been chasing after him. She wasn’t even sure she should hint that Dusty had a crush on him. But didn’t she owe her friend to at least let him know that Dusty was interested?

  “She has four brothers, you know,” Letty blurted out. “And they are very protective of their sister.”

  “I’ve heard of the McCall boys.” Boone smiled a slow unnerving smile. “You’re a little protective of her as well, it seems.” His gaze shifted to her lap. “You’ve hardly touched your food. You seemed so anxious to have lunch when we were back at the motel.”

  Letty blushed again. She looked down at her lap and took a bite of her burger, knowing she’d never be able to swallow it. This had been a terrible mistake.

  “I’m curious,” Boone said. She could feel his eyes on her. “What exactly was your friend doing wandering around the rodeo grounds so late after the rodeo was over?”

  Letty practically choked on her burger. “She was looking for you! You told her to meet you there!”

  He drew back in surprise, one eyebrow going up. “Where would she get an idea like that? I don’t even know her.”

  Letty stared at him, all kinds of smart retorts galloping through her brain. She reminded herself that her best friend had a crush on this guy. “I guess there was a misunderstanding,” she said feebly. But then Letty added, “She was almost trampled by the bucking horses!”

  “That corral gate has a bad latch. She was lucky,” he said, the words this time seeming to hang in the air.

  Letty felt a chill and told herself she was overreacting. What if Boone hadn’t been talking to Dusty, hadn’t told her to meet him, hadn’t had anything to do with the latch on the gate? What if she was dead wrong about him?

  “She risked her life to meet you,” Letty said.

  His brow shot up again and he smiled, this time the humor reaching his eyes. “I’m flattered.”

  Letty felt her face flame again.

  He started the pickup.

  She hadn’t finished her burger, but he didn’t seem to care as he drove her back to the motel.

  “Hey,” he said when she started to get out. “Why don’t you give me Dusty McCall’s number? If there was a misunderstanding last night, I’d like to apologize to her.”

  He took a pencil and a scrap of paper from the glove box and scribbled down the number Letty hesitantly gave him. “Thanks.”

  “Thank you for lunch,” she said, good manners taking over.

  As he drove off, Letty stared after him wondering what that had been about. One thing was clear. Boone Rasmussen hadn’t even known Dusty McCall existed.

  Well, he did now, thanks to her. Dusty was going to get her wish—a call from Boone Rasmussen.

  But Letty wasn’t sure she’d done her best friend a favor.

  Chapter Eight

  Ty was sitting in the Mint Bar drinking a cold beer, worrying about Dusty when he heard the news.

  Clayton T. Brooks had been found—dead.

  He took the news hard. He’d liked Clayton. “What happened?”

  The bartender, a short stocky man named Eddie, told him that he’d heard that Clayton had been killed when his pickup went off the highway north of town. “He was in here Thursday night. Closed down the place, as usual.”

  “Do you remember him mentioning anything in particular?” Ty asked.

  The bartender laughed. “Kept talking about someone named Little Joe.” He shrugged. “Have no idea.”

  Ty nodded, remembering how Clayton had been that day at work. Now that he thought about it, he did remember Clayton mentioning Little Joe and Devil’s Tornado. If only he could remember what exactly had Clayton so worked up.

  “Anything specific he said about this Little Joe?” Ty asked.

  The bartender shook his head. “You know Clayton. Never shut up.” He smiled sheepishly. “You just tuned him out after a while. Sorry.”

  Ty knew exactly what the man meant. “Any idea what he was doing north of town?” There was little north of Antelope Flats, and Clayton lived in the opposite direction.

  Eddie shrugged and shook his head. “No clue. Not much up that way.”

  Except for the Edgewood Roughstock Company ranch, Ty thought. And Devil’s Tornado. Was it possible the damned fool had been going to see the bull? But who was Little Joe?

  The door opened and Ty caught a whiff of perfume, something light, like a spring day, that made him turn toward the entrance for a moment.

  Couldn’t be Slim. She wouldn’t be caught dead wearing perfume. He turned his attention back to his beer. Maybe he shouldn’t have deserted her. As if his staying in the boutique would have helped matters. But he hated the thought that she might be mad at him. Might never trust him again.

  He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see a young woman moving through the series of arches along the bar’s entryway. All he caught was a glimpse of her. A flash of blue and short, soft blond curls, but they were enough to hold his attention as she moved in and out of the archways. Flash. Flash. Flash. She was slim and leggy, the blue dress fluttering just above her knees as she moved. The dress the same color as the blouse he’d picked out for Dusty. The same color as Dusty’s eyes.

  Even when she came around the corner toward the bar, he didn’t recognize her at first. True to his gender, he was looking at her curves, not her face. That is, until she stopped just feet from him.

  His gaze flicked up to her face and all the breath rushed from him. “Slim?” He tried to get to his feet, practically knocking over his stool. She looked so…different. So not like the tomboy he’d known his whole life.

  All he could say was, “You cut your hair!”

  Her long braid was gone, her hair now chin-length, the pale blond a cap of loose curls that framed her incredible face. But that wasn’t the half of the transformation. Slim had curves! He stared at her, dumbstruck.

  She smiled tentatively. “So what do you think?”

  When had she grown up? Sometime over the past few years and he hadn’t noticed. Probably because she’d hidden it so well under those huge shirts and jackets.

  He dropped back on his stool, simply flummoxed. This was Slim. The tomboy from the next ranch, the cowgirl he’d teased and tormented for years. “You’re…you’re gorgeous.”

  She cut her eyes at him as she slid onto the stool next to him. Did she think he was kidding? She let out a long sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath. Her eyes shone. She blinked, and he realized she’d been close to tears. Did it matter that much to her what he thought?

  “You aren’t just saying that, are you?”

  He shook his head, unable to quit staring at her. He’d wanted to help her find her girl side. He hadn’t expected this kind of transformation. Asa was going to kill him. If Dusty’s brothers didn’t get to him first.

  Eddie gave her an appreciative look, took her order and poured her a cola.

  “You’re okay with this new look?” Ty asked, watching her pluck up the maraschino cherry Eddie had put on top.

  She leaned back her head, holding the cherry over her mouth. She was even wearing lipstick! With perfect white teeth, she nipped the cherry from its stem and took a sip of her drink, dropping the stem on her napkin.

  “I feel so…different,” she said and shot him a grin, the same grin that had always captivated him.

  He couldn’t believe this woman had been hidden under all that loose western clothing and that tomboy attitude. Worse, he couldn’t believe she was his Slim. He felt bowled over—stunned by this change in her, of course, but even more shocked at how it made him feel.

  He’d always liked her. But she’d just been a kid. The daughter of Asa McCall. The kid sister to J.T., Rourke, Cash and Brandon McCall. In other words, someone he thought of more as a buddy. A safe thought.

  The thoughts he was having now weren’t safe.

  “Thank you for helping me,” she said and took another sip of her cola.

  “I think we should keep my part in this our little secret.”

  He caught her checking out her image in the mirror across the room. As far as he knew, the old Dusty had avoided mirrors, never seeming to care what she looked like. In a way, he missed that. He frowned, suddenly afraid he’d created a monster as she licked her lips and gave him a slow smile, as if she knew exactly the effect she was having on him.

  “I can’t wait to see—” she ran her finger along the top of her glass “—everyone’s reaction.”

  Everyone? Letty, her brothers, her parents or someone else? He hated to think what effect she was going to have on young, impressionable ranch hands. He was still trying to get over the effect she was having on him.

  He cut his eyes at her as a thought struck him. Was it possible she’d done this for some boy she had a crush on? He caught a gleam in her eye that he’d seen too many times before—usually when she was about to do something either dangerous or crazy, or both.

  “What are you up to?” he asked, more than a little worried as he caught a whiff of the perfume he’d smelled earlier. The scent was definitely coming from Slim.

  “You’re scaring me,” he said and meant it.

  She laughed and downed the rest of her cola. The look she shot him making it clear she wasn’t going to tell him, she said, “Ready?”

  He frowned at her. He wasn’t ready for this new Dusty, that was for sure.

  “Would you drop me off at Letty’s?”

  “Sure.” He was relieved it was Letty she wanted to try her new look on first. That would give him time to hightail it back to his ranch before Asa McCall came looking for him with a shotgun. “Don’t forget. My part in this is our little secret.”

  She nodded distractedly. It seemed she had already forgotten about him. The story of his life.

  SHERIFF CASH MCCALL was sitting in a booth at his sister-in-law’s Longhorn Café when he saw the coroner come through the door. Cash had just finished a late lunch—bacon cheeseburger, extra homemade fries and a piece of her field berry pie—when Raymond Winters slid into the booth across from him.

  Cash took one look at Winters’ face and said, “Whatever it is, I don’t think I want to hear it.”

  The coroner dropped his voice and glanced around the nearly empty café. “You’re going to think I’m nuts.”

  “I’ve never thought you were nuts.” Raymond Winters was the most sane man Cash knew, especially considering what he did for a living.

  He dropped his voice even lower. “Clayton was murdered.”

  Cash groaned, knowing Winters wouldn’t be saying this unless he had good reason. Cash pushed his plate away. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “Well, this is where it gets crazy,” Winters said. “I was examining the body and I found abrasions that could only have been made after Clayton was dead.”

  Cash frowned, trying to understand.

  “There appeared to be several blows to the head that caused his death,” Winters continued. “One bled profusely, but when I checked the pickup, there wasn’t the type of blood splatter I would have expected to find, given that he was contained inside the pickup as it rolled. Should have been blood all over the place. Also, the head wounds aren’t consistent with those from a car accident.”

  “You’re saying he didn’t die in the pickup.”

  Winters nodded. “But that isn’t all.” He looked even more upset. “I found something on the knees of his jeans and on one hand.”

  “What?” Cash asked, fear heavy as stones in his belly.

  “Fresh bovine dung.”

  “I beg your pardon? Why in the hell would he have dung on him?”

  Winters shook his head. “Good question. But I think you might want to order an autopsy because I’d wager my right arm that Clayton T. Brooks was murdered in some cow pasture and put in that pickup to make it look like an accident.”

  DUSTY COULDN’T WAIT to see Letty’s face. She walked into the motel office and rang the bell rather than go right on in to her friend’s attached house as she normally did.

  “May I help you?” Letty asked coming out from the back.

  “I’d like a room.”

  Letty looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, her eyes widening in shock. “Dusty?”

  Dusty laughed a little embarrassed, practically crossing her fingers in the hopes that Letty wouldn’t hate her new look. “What do you think?”

  Letty seemed speechless. “What happened to your hair?”

  “I cut it. This is the latest style. I had no idea I had naturally curly hair. What about the dress?” She turned in a slow circle and waited for Letty’s reaction, a little disappointed in it so far.

  “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

  “Because I’ve never had one before,” she said, wishing she wasn’t feeling a little annoyed by Letty’s lack of enthusiasm at the change. She’d thought Letty would be as excited as she was.

  “Did you do this for Boone?” Letty asked, not sounding pleased about the prospect.

  “No,” Dusty snapped, although she had and they both knew it. “I just decided it was time I stopped dressing like a boy.”

  Letty glanced down at her own clothing: jeans, boots, western shirt. The two of them had always dressed the same.

  “Not that I won’t still wear my jeans and boots most of the time,” Dusty added.

  “You look nice,” Letty said.

  Nice? Dusty looked away, not wanting Letty to see how hurt she was. Part of her wanted to just turn and leave in a huff. The other wanted to say something to fix the distance she felt between them. It seemed to be widening lately, and she didn’t know how to change that. “So what are you up to?”

  “Nothing much.”

  Past her, Dusty saw what looked like a suitcase by the wall. Beside it was a cooler. A sleeping bag was rolled up on top of it. “Are you going camping?”

  Letty glanced back at the suitcase. “Just putting some things away.”

  “Wanna grab something to eat?” Dusty asked, feeling as if she were clutching at straws.

  “Already ate.” Letty turned back and met her gaze. “Boone Rasmussen stopped by and took me to lunch.”

  Dusty couldn’t hide her shock. Or avoid that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “He asked you to lunch?”

  “He just wanted to talk about you,” Letty said quickly.

  From sinking, the feeling shot to dizzying. Her stomach came alive with butterflies, her head spinning. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? “What did you tell him?”

  “It was a quick lunch. He just asked your name. He saw you back by the corrals after the rodeo.”

  Dusty groaned. “Did he say anything else about me?”

  “I’m sure you’ll be hearing from him. He asked for your number. Is that lipstick you’re wearing?”

  Dusty nodded and fluttered her lashes. “Mascara, too.”

  Letty let out a long breath. “You look so…different.”

  “Different good, though, right?”

  Her friend nodded, her smile wavering a little.

  “Letty, I haven’t changed.”

  Letty’s look said she wasn’t so sure about that.

  ASA FOUND Shelby in the kitchen. She hadn’t heard him come in. Her back was to him, ramrod straight, shoulders squared, her head up as she stood at the sink, staring out the window as if lost in thought.

  She must have sensed him because she tensed, as if braced for a blow.

  He stepped up behind her and, on impulse, wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into the soft sweet spot between her neck and shoulder.

  She leaned back against him, a small sound escaping her throat.

  He gripped her tighter, wishing he never had to let her go, needing her as he’d never needed her before and hating that even more. She deserved better. She always had.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her warm skin, words he had uttered too few times to her.

  “Oh, Asa,” she said, her voice breaking. Her body began to shake. She turned and he drew her close, cradling her head in his hands as she buried her face in his chest.

  He stroked her hair, closing his eyes as he filed away the memory of its feel beneath his fingers, just as he had filed away every touch they’d shared so he would never forget.

  Past her through the window he could see the warm gold cast of the sun flowing over the land. The land he’d loved so much. More than he’d loved his own wife. Fool’s gold, he thought. He would give anything to turn back the clock. To undo his two most unforgivable sins. He’d chosen the ranch over Shelby, sending her away from not only him, but also from her own children.

  And then he’d turned around and ransomed the ranch. Betraying his children. In the end, he’d lost what he loved most.

  He smiled at the irony. His entire life had been about the ranch. Hadn’t he promised his father on his deathbed that he’d make the Sundown Ranch the biggest and best? That he would do whatever it took? Sacrifice everything? Sell his very soul?

  If only he could renegotiate his deal with the devil. It wouldn’t be to save the ranch. It would be for those wasted years he’d spent apart from this woman in his arms. How could she ever forgive him? He’d taken her home, her life, her children. And still she loved him.

  His throat closed at the thought, his chest swelling with an unbearable pain. It wasn’t cancer that was eating away at his insides—it was regret.

  She pulled back to look up at him, hastily wiping at her tears, as if ashamed to have broken down in front of him. Her eyes met his. He felt her stiffen, as if bracing herself. She had always known him too well.

  “I’d hoped this could wait until after Cash and Molly’s wedding…” He swallowed, trying not to let her hear the anguish he was feeling, failing miserably.