All Charlotte had left were Brand and Ryder. The two of them never gave her any trouble, staying clear of her on the ranch, doing what needed to be done and having minimal contact with the rest of the family. That too was her fault.

  And now this. How could Brand ever forgive her? He hadn’t come to her after finding out the truth. Instead, he’d reached out to his father.

  Realizing just how alone she was and how she’d brought it all on herself, Charlotte couldn’t seem to move. She could drive into town, but there was no one there either. She’d alienated the community as well as her family—and especially Holden and his family—for years.

  She’d once had a best friend. But then Margie Smith had betrayed her by marrying Holden. Charlotte knew intellectually that Margie was young. Her father and Holden’s father put her in a position where she had little choice but to marry Holden. Still, Charlotte had never been able to forgive her for stealing her life—even when she’d learned years later that Margie was dying.

  And here she was, just as Elaine had predicted, completely alone.

  She reached for her cell phone. For a moment, she’d forgotten that she had one friend left in the world, the friendship no one knew about, but someone she could count on and vice versa. The line rang and was immediately picked up.

  “Elaine,” she said and burst into tears.

  * * *

  STUART SWORE AS he left Miles City and headed back to Powder Crossing. He cursed himself for letting Lulabelle get to him. She’d enjoyed his shock and discomfort. Psychic powers. Who knew where she got that crap? He tried to forget it, hating that his reaction had been so telling. The whole incident had left him feeling vulnerable.

  His father used to say no one could keep a secret in Powder Crossing. That, at least, Stuart believed. Lulabelle dealt with the bottom-feeders, people who enjoyed digging into other people’s trash. Had Lulabelle heard something from one of them? Or had she just been fishing with what she’d said about his mother?

  He knew he should put it behind him, but he couldn’t help being upset. Did she pull these same stunts with other people who came to her looking for answers?

  Or did she know more than he thought? Either way, he was still shaken, because she’d hit his most vulnerable sore spot. His mother.

  His cell phone rang, dragging him out of his black mood at even the mention of his mother. It was Treyton McKenna, Holden’s eldest son. “I need to talk to you,” the sheriff said. Treyton was the next name on Holden’s list. “Where are you?”

  He got the surly answer he would expect from Treyton McKenna. “Why?”

  “Have you talked to your father?”

  “I’ve been busy. I don’t live on the ranch anymore. I bought a place of my own. So I don’t see the old man.”

  “A place of your own? I can come to you. What’s the address?” Stuart heard the hesitation in Treyton’s silence.

  “I’m on my way into town.”

  He would have liked to see Treyton’s place for a number of reasons. He had been suspicious of the man for some time now, especially after there’d been a meth lab in the area. Whoever was running it had burned down the place, destroying the evidence, before Stuart could bust it. CJ Stafford had definitely been involved, but although they were rivals because of their families, the sheriff suspected Treyton might have been involved. It was just a gut feeling since the lab had actually been in an abandoned ranch building on the McKenna Ranch.

  Disappointed, he said, “Fine, my office. Twenty minutes?” He’d pay Treyton a visit sometime in the future and check out his new digs.

  “Why don’t you just tell me what this is about?”

  “When I see you,” Stuart said and disconnected as he turned on his siren and lights and raced toward Powder Crossing.

  * * *

  “CHARLOTTE? CHARLOTTE! Is it Holly Jo?”

  The fear Charlotte heard in Elaine’s voice made her choke off her sobs. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about Holly Jo. I just saw Holden.” Silence. “Oh, please, you aren’t going to turn against me too, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Elaine said. “You just scared me. I was trying to catch my breath. I was so afraid... I heard about Brand being picked up by the law. I thought maybe you might know something.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called so upset. You all must be worried sick about Holly Jo.”

  “It’s all right, Charlotte. You’re sure Brand didn’t take her?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” She couldn’t help but sound indignant. “They let him go. He had an alibi. He wouldn’t do anything like that anyway.” But she’d never thought he’d have his DNA tested and send Holden the results either. “Is there anything I can do?” She already knew the answer.

  “No, but thank you for asking.” Elaine had always been nicer to her than she deserved. Her friend was a better person than she was. Charlotte thought that Elaine should have gotten together with Holden years ago. They would have made a nice couple. Instead, Elaine had spent those years trying to get Charlotte to forgive, Margie first, then Holden.

  “Let me know if you hear anything,” Charlotte said. Elaine promised that she would, and they disconnected.

  Feeling even worse for thinking only of herself when a child was missing, Charlotte shifted the SUV into gear and went home. She hoped Brand would be there. She wasn’t sure what she would say to him when she did see him, though. There weren’t really any words to explain the poor decisions she’d made in her fifty-three years.

  Nor was she looking forward to the reactions of her other adult children when they heard the news. The way gossip traveled in the Powder River Basin, they had probably already heard. So as she walked in through the door of her house, she wasn’t surprised to get a collect call from her son CJ, who was incarcerated in a cell in Billings.

  She didn’t take the call, already too aware of what he would have to say. Deserved or not, she couldn’t take any more berating right now. She was sure she’d get enough of that from Brand once he decided to confront her.

  Standing in the middle of her living room, the silence thick as fog around her, she knew that she could wallow in her pain like she usually did, or she could do something to help.

  * * *

  TREYTON MCKENNA WAS slouched in a chair in Stuart’s office when the sheriff walked in. He had Holden’s dark hair and blue eyes in a face that could have been considered handsome if not for his bad-tempered disposition. He wore his usual sullen look as Stuart closed the office door, stepped past Treyton’s extended legs and sat down behind his desk.

  “When was the last time you saw Holly Jo?” he asked without preamble. He didn’t like Treyton, never had, and wanted to spend as little time as possible in his company.

  The question seemed to take the rancher’s son by surprise. “Why?” Stuart waited, and Treyton finally frowned, seemed to think, then said, “A couple of weeks ago. I can’t remember. Like I said, I don’t live there anymore.”

  He knew that Treyton had moved out of the ranch house before his friend Cooper had returned from his honeymoon with Tilly Stafford, now McKenna. They were now both living at the house until theirs was finished on the ranch. Treyton’s dislike for the Staffords was legendary.

  A little surprised that Treyton hadn’t heard that Holly Jo had been kidnapped, he knew it wouldn’t be long before someone in town told him.

  “Holly Jo’s been kidnapped.” He watched Treyton’s face. It stayed sullen. Nothing registered in his blue eyes other than impatience.

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Did you kidnap her?”

  Treyton blinked and sat up. “What? Why would I do that?”

  “You’re at odds with your father.”

  “That’s nothing new.”

  The sheriff leaned forward, holding Treyton’s gaze. “If you know where she is—”

  The rancher’s son was on his feet. “If my father really thinks I took that brat, then he is more senile than I thought.” He shook his head. “I don’t have time for this.” He started for the door.

  “I’m going to need the address of your new place,” Stuart said.

  “Better bring a warrant,” Treyton said over his shoulder on the way out of the office.

  “I’ll let the Feds know to bring one,” he called after him. They both knew he didn’t have enough evidence to get a warrant. As he watched Treyton storm out, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t Holden’s eldest son’s doing, and he needed to move on to the next name on the list.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHARLOTTE FELT GUILTY at how relieved she’d been when she’d returned to the ranch and Brand wasn’t there. She knew she was avoiding the inevitable. She’d never thought of herself as a coward, but at this moment, she didn’t feel strong enough to face all her sins. She had no idea what she would say to him anyway. That she was embarrassed surprised her. Facing her grown son and admitting the lie she’d let them all—especially Brand and his father—believe and live with seemed an unforgivable betrayal. Holden definitely thought so.

  For years, she’d hated Holden for what he’d done to her, betraying her the way he had. Not just once, but over again. And now she’d done something despicable to her own son and his father. She’d lied, not just to them, but to herself. She’d thought better of herself, always having taken the moral high ground. Until she’d seen the way Holden had looked at her today. She hated to imagine the look her son would give her.

  As badly as she wanted to wallow in her grief, her regret, her self-disgust, she refused to allow it. She reached for her phone. The plan had come to her after talking to Elaine. Back at the ranch, she’d seen herself as if staring into a mirror. She’d only been thinking of herself, her pain. She hadn’t even a thought of anyone else, including Holden’s ward, Holly Jo.

  Shame heated her cheeks, burned at her soul. A child was missing. She called her ranch manager and asked him to come up to the house.

  Boyle Wilson had sounded both surprised and pleased at her request. Most of the time, if she had anything to say to him, she did it out at the stables.

  Answering his knock, she opened the door. He pulled off his Western straw hat, wiped his boots on the mat and stepped in. His head under his hat revealed pale scalp beneath his receding hairline in sharp contrast to the deep tan of his face. Farmer’s tan, Oakley called it.

  Boyle wasn’t bad to look at, but there was something in his eyes that had warned her years ago as a girl that he wasn’t to be trusted. She would have sacked him when she took over the ranch after her first husband died, but unfortunately, Boyle knew too much, as if he’d been listening outside their doors his whole life. Maybe he didn’t know where all the bodies were buried, so to speak, but he knew enough. Still, there were days when she’d fantasized about sending him down the road and letting him do his worst.

  “You need me?” he said, a smirk teasing up one side of his mouth.

  Charlotte quickly divested him of any thought that this was personal. “I want you to have everyone search every building on the property for a missing girl. Her name is Holly Jo. She’s about twelve, thirteen.”

  Boyle’s expression flashed disappointment, then anger. “I’m a ranch manager, not a babysitter for Holden McKenna’s kid he says isn’t his. Why would you think she’s on our property?” he demanded. “You wouldn’t be behind this, would you?” He gave her a wink that turned her stomach.

  He’d never made it a secret that he had designs on her, which only proved how delusional he was about their relationship. He really did seem to think he knew enough about her and the family that he had job security for life—if not next husband material. She thought how shocked he’d be if he ever tried out that theory in the form of open blackmail.

  “I want you to go with our men and make sure that every building is thoroughly searched,” she said, as if he hadn’t spoken, let alone accused her of kidnapping the child. “I’m depending on you, Boyle.” Her last words made him stand up a little taller. “Which means I’m also holding you responsible should you miss one building that happens to have the child in it. I’m going to get other ranchers to do the same. If that girl is still in the Powder River Basin, she would be hidden somewhere away from people. I want her found.”

  Boyle smirked. “So, I was right. This is about you trying to get in good with Holden McKenna.”

  She wanted to slap that smirk off his face. “Maybe you didn’t hear. Brand was taken into custody as a suspect in the girl’s disappearance. I want to make sure no one hid that child on my property.” Charlotte met his gaze, daring him to say anything more about Holden, let alone Brand. “That girl is out there somewhere. Only a monster wouldn’t want to find her.”

  He had the good sense to look chastised. If he didn’t know that Brand was Holden’s son, he would soon enough. It would be the talk of the bar Boyle patronized in town. He stuffed his hat back on his head. “I should get on it, then.”

  “I’ll be offering a reward for the person who finds her alive,” Charlotte said as the idea came to her. “Ten thousand dollars.” His eyes widened with surprise and a flash of greed. “Get the word out.”

  * * *

  AS HOLDEN HAD driven away from Lottie, his heart breaking, a memory nudged him hard. Him and Lottie, the two of them at their favorite spot at the creek.

  Earlier he couldn’t remember, but now he saw it all. It had been a couple of years before he’d married Margie. He and Lottie had been young lovers, both assuming they would marry. But his father had other ideas. Holden had been given an impossible choice. Either marry Margie Smith, the daughter of another neighboring rancher with some property his father wanted, or walk away from the ranch without a penny.

  “Without a ranch or any money, we’ll see if Charlotte still wants you,” his father had said.

  Holden had feared his father was right. He’d buckled under the pressure and married Margie. He never told Lottie why. Not that it would have made a difference. She’d never forgiven him—just as he’d never forgiven himself.

  But he hadn’t been able to get over her. Nor had he been able to stay away from her. With only a creek between their properties, it was too easy to see her. Like the day they must have conceived Brand. After making love, he had left Lottie feeling guilty and ashamed, and yet he couldn’t stay with her any more than he could stay away from her. He’d told himself on the way back to the ranch that he couldn’t do this any longer. He was going to tell Margie the truth.

  That day at the creek, Lottie had wanted him as desperately as he had her. They’d made love, madly and passionately in the grass at the edge of the water—just as they had as teenagers. Afterward... He recalled what he’d told her, because like a lot of his mistakes in life, after seeing her today, he now remembered it only too well. He’d said to her that he was going back to the ranch and telling Margie that he was leaving her.

  Lottie had cried, promising to tell her husband, and they’d held each other. They were finally going to be together, come hell or high water. Neither considered the consequences of such a decision. All they could think about was being together.

  He remembered how happy Lottie had been. They planned to meet back at the creek the next day. Holden groaned now at the memory. He’d returned to the ranch to tell Margie. She was busy with Treyton, the son they’d had right away. Treyton had never been an easy child, colicky as an infant, irritable and difficult as a toddler.

  Charlotte had married Rake Stafford, a man seventeen years her senior, soon after he and Margie had wed. Like Holden and Margie, Charlotte and Rake had also produced a son, Chisum Jase, CJ. Both boys were going through the terrible twos.

  Holden remembered feeling guilty about leaving Margie to raise Treyton alone. He swore he’d do what he could to help her, but he had to be with Lottie.

  Unfortunately, when he’d reached home that day, she had her own news. She was pregnant. Her father and his own were at the house, everyone celebrating. Margie’s father was in such a celebratory mood that he was giving them more of the Smith Ranch. Holden’s father couldn’t have been happier to hear that.

  Holden hadn’t been able to tell Margie he was leaving because he’d known then that he couldn’t. He felt trapped. The next day, he didn’t show up at the creek to meet Lottie as he’d promised. He was too ashamed because he couldn’t go through with leaving Margie.

  She had been so excited about the baby. None of this had been Margie’s fault, he’d told himself. Worse, he’d been a coward. No wonder Lottie hadn’t told him that Brand was his when she realized that she was pregnant. No wonder she’s never been able to forgive me. What he’d done to her and Margie had been unforgivable.

  No wonder he’d thought Charlotte might be behind the kidnapping, even as he’d felt guilty for thinking it.

  * * *

  AFTER TALKING WITH TREYTON, Stuart stopped by the McKenna house to see Holden. He’d been upset when his deputy had called to say that the rancher had left the house and had only just returned.

  “What if the kidnapper had called?” Stuart demanded once he and Holden were alone in the man’s office.

  “Elaine would have handled it,” the rancher said. “She would probably have done a better job anyway.”

  Stuart could only shake his head. “Holden, what could have been more important than talking to the kidnapper and finding Holly Jo?”

  “I had something I needed to take care of” was all he said.

  Stuart could well imagine. The rancher had gone to see Charlotte about Brand. He let it go, still riled up about Lulabelle and why she’d said what she had about his mother. Talking to Treyton had left him even more keyed up.