He stepped onto the platform then helped her board. Holding her hand now, he quickly led her toward the cabin door.

  “Stop!” he shouted at the cabin door, apparently having seen something that made him discard his stealthy approach. He dropped her hand and rushed forward.

  Bree entered behind him and saw papers burning in the stainless steel sink. Isaac held a trash can over the sink as if he planned to add the items in the can to the flames.

  Clint knocked the can from Isaac’s hand. She thought he might wrestle Isaac to the ground to stop him, but he stood glaring at Isaac instead.

  “You have no right to be on my boat,” Isaac snapped. “Get off now.”

  “We just want to talk.”

  “Is that so?” Isaac’s breath came hard and fast. “Is that why you’re trespassing and assaulting me?”

  “Trust me,” Clint said. “If I’d assaulted you, you wouldn’t be standing upright.”

  “Well you’re certainly trespassing.” Isaac dug out his phone from his pocket. “And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police.”

  Clint raised his hands. “Relax. We’re going.”

  He backed toward Bree, but stopped by the trash can. “What’s with the bloody tissues in the trash?”

  “I get frequent nosebleeds.”

  Clint didn’t respond, but Bree could tell he wanted to say something. Instead, he gestured for her to step out first. Outside the cabin, he took her hand again.

  “Did you believe the nosebleed comment?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “But why?”

  “He came up with the answer too fast for it to be a lie. And if he’d hurt himself on Jason’s boat he’d have emptied his trash a long time ago.”

  “But you looked like you wanted to say something else.”

  “Say something? Nah. I thought about grabbing a tissue for Shawn to compare to the blood found on Jason’s boat.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “He was watching us—he could have accused us of theft. Anyway, if what he says is true about frequent nosebleeds, we’ll have a chance to collect a bloody tissue in the future.”

  “The future,” she mumbled. “Sounds like you don’t think this will be resolved anytime soon.”

  He met her gaze and held it. “I’m sorry, Bree. But I don’t. We may have a few leads, but it’s going to take time to track them down, leaving you in danger for far longer than I’d hoped.”

  SEVEN

  Back at the ranch, Clint sat at the kitchen table while Bree and her mother prepared dinner. He loved seeing them work together in such harmony. His parents were like that, too. They didn’t need to communicate but knew each other’s thoughts. It had once been that way with him and Bree, in tune with one another from the start. He hoped he’d be able to find that with someone else once he was finally ready to settle down. But could he really be so compatible with anyone else?

  Leave it alone. Move on. Focus on the laptop. He opened an internet browser and typed in “Kier Lee.” A link declaring him a plaintive in a malpractice lawsuit came up. Clint opened the article and read the details.

  He looked up at Bree. “What’s Laura’s maiden name?”

  “Tichler, why?”

  “Ten years ago Kier Lee sued her for malpractice.”

  Bree’s eyebrows shot up. “She never mentioned being sued.”

  “The newspaper story says he believed she’d given his father the wrong medicine dose and he died. She was cleared, though.”

  “Of course she was.” Bree crossed over to him and swiveled the computer toward her.

  “Even after the trial, he maintained that she was guilty,” she said, her gaze not leaving the article. “Maybe he wanted to get back at her.”

  “But why wait ten years?”

  “We need to investigate and find out.”

  Clint nodded. “We’ll go see him in the morning. For now, I’ll do some checking on Vern Porter.”

  Bree frowned. “I wonder why she never told me about it.”

  “It probably traumatized her and since she was cleared there was no point in mentioning it.”

  “Explains why she was always adamant that I keep my malpractice insurance up to date.”

  Crying sounded from the master bedroom and Bree looked like she wanted to sigh but took a deep breath instead. “Excuse me.”

  After she left the room, Clint typed “Vern Porter” into the computer, and a long list of links populated the screen. Clicking through one by one, Clint discovered Porter owned a gun range in the area and was quoted in several articles on game hunting.

  The guy obviously knew his way around weapons, and would be a good candidate for owning the gun used to shoot up Bree’s house. Clint continued to search but couldn’t find any obvious link between Porter and Jason or Laura, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He was seeming just as likely a suspect as Lee, and they needed to talk to him in the morning as well.

  Bree returned with Ella. The baby’s eyes were red and puffy and her face a blotchy red as she cried out in pain. “I couldn’t find the teething gel.”

  “I think it’s on the table in the family room,” Marie replied.

  Since Marie was up to her arms in soapy water at the sink, Clint jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

  He quickly found the gel and brought it to Bree.

  “Can you hold Ella for a minute so I can wash my hands?” she asked.

  “Me?”

  “She won’t break.”

  “But won’t it upset her more?”

  Bree didn’t respond but simply held Ella out. Clint wasn’t sure what to do, but he mimicked the way Bree had held the baby. He got a firm grip and nestled her close to his chest.

  “Shh, honey,” he said, doing the only thing he could think of.

  She stopped crying for a moment and hiccupped while she stared at him.

  “That’s better.” He made a goofy face at her.

  He saw the beginnings of a smile so he made an even funnier face. Her smile widened.

  “She likes you,” Marie said.

  Bree turned from the sink. “She hasn’t been around men much since Jason died, and she always got on well with men.”

  Clint didn’t care if Ella liked other men. She was responding to him, and his heart melted in a giant puddle. He’d known he wanted to have children, but now—now, with this sweet little face looking up at him... Man. He really wanted a family. Starting with a wife, of course.

  Ella patted chubby hands on his face and quickly pulled them back, looking displeased.

  “Don’t like my whiskers, huh?” He chuckled, and she grinned, seeming to have forgotten all about her pain.

  “Maybe you should take her into the family room while Bree and I finish making dinner,” Marie suggested.

  “If you want to, of course,” Bree added.

  “Sure. Why not?” His words came out sounding bold, but his innards were still quaking with fear over caring for this petite person.

  He took a seat and settled Ella on his lap facing him then patted her hands together as he’d seen Bree do. Ella rewarded him with another toothless smile. She was cute now, but he imagined she’d be adorable when her first tooth broke through.

  How long would that take? Would he even see her when it did?

  He had no clue, but he’d like to see it.

  Is this You, God? Trying to tell me something here?

  But what was he supposed to learn from this and why now?

  You put the call in my heart for the SEALs, and as far as I can see, You haven’t released me from that call.

  Ella’s chin wobbled, and her lower lip poked out. He expected her to wail at any moment so he started patting her hands again. Her lip went back in and soon he had her grinning and laughing.

  Bree stepped into the room. “You two seem to be getting along just fine.”

  “We are.”

  She crossed the space to sit on the arm of the sofa and stroked her hand over Ella’s head. “You like Clint, don’t you, precious?”

  Her grin widened, and Clint peered up at Bree. Love flowed from her very expressive eyes, and it was easy to imagine holding their child, or even this sweetheart, as they raised her together. Way too easy to picture it.

  “I forgot there’s something I have to do.” He quickly handed Ella back to Bree and rushed through the kitchen, grabbing a peppermint treat for Frosty on the way to the back door.

  “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Marie said.

  “Thanks, but I’ve lost my appetite.”

  He hurried across the yard toward the corral where Pete leaned against the rail, a piece of straw sticking from his mouth.

  Coward, Clint told himself. Running from Bree and Ella, everything you want, instead of facing things head-on like you’ve been taught.

  “Yeah, well, sometimes you have to run before you do something that you know isn’t good for you or the other person,” he mumbled.

  “You say something?” Pete asked.

  “Not anything I want anyone else to hear,” Clint said. “For that matter, I don’t much want to hear it myself.”

  * * *

  Bree finished loading the dishwasher while glancing at the door every few minutes as she’d done since Clint rushed outside and didn’t return. Something she’d said or done had made him take off, and she wanted to talk to him about it.

  She closed the dishwasher and listened to the water rush in. She’d already put Ella down for the night, and she had no reason not to go looking for him. She poked her head into the family room where her mom sat reading in an overstuffed arm chair.

  “Can you keep an ear out for Ella? I’m going to see if I can find Clint.”

  She frowned. “You’re not getting attached to him again, are you?”

  “No,” Bree replied without thinking. “Is it okay for me to go?”

  “Sure, but sweetie.” She met and held Bree’s gaze. “As far as I can see, Clint isn’t leaving the SEALS, and if you don’t take care, you’re going to end up with a broken heart again.”

  “I’m fine, Mom.” She spun and grabbed a granola bar for Clint since he’d missed dinner, then stepped outside.

  Her gaze went to the millions of stars sparkling overhead, reminding her of dinners with Clint on the patio. They’d sat in comfy chairs, gazed up at a glittering sky and talked about their dreams for hours at a time. Until one day they discovered their dreams could never be realized together.

  “Remember that,” she warned herself as she headed for the barn where light spilled through the windows.

  She found Clint sitting on a turned-over pail in Frosty’s stall. He held a metal pick in one hand, and Frosty’s foot in the other. He looked up. “Just cleaning out his hooves.”

  She held up the granola bar. He shrugged off his leather gloves and took it. “Thanks.”

  “We missed you at dinner.”

  “I had some thinking to do. Ella doing okay?” He unwrapped the bar and chomped off a third of it in one bite.

  “She’s fast asleep. For how long, I don’t know, but she’s quiet for now.” Bree stepped over to Frosty and petted his velvety soft head. “Hey, fella.”

  She glanced at Clint who was studying her as he took another big bite of the bar.

  “I’m glad to see Frosty still looking so well at his age,” she said.

  “This old guy?” Clint got up and joined her. “He’s gonna be around for a long time to come, aren’t you, bud?”

  Frosty tossed back his head and whinnied as if he understood.

  “Do you still ride him?” she asked.

  Clint nodded as he finished chewing the last of his bar and shoved the wrapper in his pocket. “I have to be careful with him, though. Senior horses have a problem regulating their temperature. So I keep an eye on his breathing to tell me if he’s overheating.”

  “Sounds like you know a lot about horses.”

  “I lost my parents. I wasn’t about to lose the horse they gave me our last Christmas together. So I learned everything I could about them. It also gave me something to do when Granddad basically ignored me.”

  “I don’t know how he could do that.”

  “He always grumbled about having to leave the military to take care of me, but I think his real problem with me was that seeing me around here reminded him of my dad dying.”

  “I still don’t get it. Every time I look at Ella, I’m reminded of Laura and Jason, but that makes me want to love her even more.”

  “That’s who you are. Granddad was just a gruff old guy with no clue how to show affection.”

  “I’m glad you’re not like that.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head emphatically.

  “Guess I owe that to my faith. Granddad was a believer, but he didn’t live his faith. I was fortunate to learn from my parents before they died.”

  “And now you’re using your faith to make the world a better place.”

  “I’d like to hope I am.” He stroked Frosty’s mane, but stared into the distance. “Sitting out here, cleaning hooves, I’m reminded of how much I love the simple life on the ranch.”

  “Maybe you could come back permanently,” she said hopefully then shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair. Just because I want you to come back doesn’t mean it’s right for you. I’m being selfish.”

  He released Frosty and took her hand. “You know there’s a part of me that wants to be here, right? With you?”

  “I’ve been getting that feeling,” she said, hoping that he might be open to finally making the change.

  “I’m not trying to lead you on.”

  Hope dimmed. If he was worried about leading her on, that meant that he still had no intention of leaving the SEALs. “I know.”

  He let go of her hand and shoved his hand into his pocket. “Who knows? Maybe this wishful thinking is just because my life is so crazy away from here, and I need solitude every now and then.”

  “Do you usually feel this way when you come home?”

  “Not really.”

  “But if you did come home to stay, you’d probably go stir-crazy in the simple, country life, living out here all alone.”

  “Probably, but if I lived here full-time, I would hope I wouldn’t be alone for long.” He stepped closer and slid his fingers into her hair to cup the back of her head.

  “We shouldn’t,” she said on a breathless wave.

  “I don’t care about ‘should’ right now.” He lowered his head, his lips inches from her mouth. “I want to kiss you, and I’m going to unless you tell me to stop.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, she closed her eyes and held her breath. When his lips touched hers they set off fireworks of emotions blazing through her body.

  She’d forgotten how wonderful kissing him felt. She’d never experienced anything like it and knew nothing else would ever take its place. They were meant to be together...and yet...they weren’t. Her mother’s warning came rushing back like ice water in her veins.

  She pushed back. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

  She hurried out of the barn before she gave in to feelings that weren’t in her best interest. She ran across the grounds, each step in the peaceful landscape reminding her that she’d come to enjoy the solitude of the ranch. She would love to be able to leave her job and be a full-time mother to Ella while living in such a tranquil setting.

  “A pipe dream,” she whispered and charged into the house.

  She didn’t have a man in her life to support them. At least not a man who was free to return her feelings.

  EIGHT

  As the sun beat down on the parking lot, Clint heard gunshots ringing through the air at Vern Porter’s firing range. A run-down place with indoor and outdoor lanes, it stood on a lot filled with older-model trucks that had seen better days—as had the building itself.

  Clint held the door for Bree to step inside where shelves were loaded with ammo and weapons. Vern stood behind the counter and eyed them. His skin was leathered and tan as if he spent a good deal of time outdoors. He had piercing blue eyes and a salt-and-pepper beard.

  All in all, he looked like the kind of guy you wouldn’t want to encounter in a dark alley and definitely not the kind of guy to own a luxury boat. But, he was of the right height and build to be the guy who was spying on them at the marina and the man who’d argued with Jason.

  Clint pulled Bree closer, stepped up to the counter and introduced himself. “I was wondering if you know Laura and Jason Kahn.”

  “Seems like I heard the names, but not sure where.”

  “They docked their boat near your slip.”

  “They the ones who died from carbon monoxide? Not a real bright idea to run a generator while sleeping.”

  Bree lifted her chin and seemed like she wanted to deck the guy. “It’s looking like someone tampered with their generator.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes, and when I started to look into it, someone shot up my house.” She eased away from Clint and planted her feet.

  “And you think I might know who that someone is?”

  “No, I think that someone is you.” She met the guy’s gaze and didn’t back down.

  Clint made a mental note not to make Bree mad, as she was fierce when it came to protecting her friends.

  “Lookie here, missy.” Vern glared at Bree.

  She didn’t back down, and Clint was so proud of her strength even as he worried about her recklessness, challenging this man so openly.

  Vern planted his hands on the countertop. “You don’t come into my place and accuse me of a crime unless you have some proof. So lay it out for me or step off.”

  Clint eased closer to draw Vern’s attention. “Where were you on the night they died?”