I would call the prison and get him in trouble.”
“Trouble for what?”
“Leading a woman on, I guess. Filling her head with lies.”
“A man manipulating a woman’s feelings is not against the law. Did he try to solicit money from her, or did he ask her to do anything illegal?”
“I don’t think so. He just kept telling her that he was in love with her.” Ryan dug a fingernail into the side of the cup. “Do you think he killed her?”
“I don’t know.”
Ann heard the car pull up in front of the ranch and knew by the slight rattle in the engine that it was Clarke’s vehicle. He’d had the SUV since his senior year of college and had refused to get rid of it for sentimental reasons. Clarke was loyal by nature and always had trouble cutting ties with the past.
She dried off her hands and carefully laid the dish towel over the edge of the sink before walking toward the front door. Joan had encouraged Ann to apply to East Coast graduate schools and to take more time before committing to Clarke’s marriage proposal. Clarke had been so anxious to marry and had encouraged Ann to study locally. But she had wanted to study at Harvard and to see more of the world before she committed. And then she had found out she was pregnant.
“Nate!” she shouted up the stairs. “Dad is here.”
Nate appeared at the top of the stairs. “Why? It’s not his day.”
No, it was not. She summoned a smile. “I guess he just wants to see you.”
Nate shrugged and came down the steps, joining her as the front doorbell rang. When her father had gotten sick over the winter, it had made sense for her and Nate to move back to the ranch. Days spread into a week and then two. And she found she liked being out here and away from Clarke. Finally, after a month, he had confronted her, and she asked him for a trial separation. She just needed a little space. Maybe one day she would clinically analyze her choices, but for now she was simply trying to get by.
Ann opened the door. Clarke stood on the front porch. His soot-covered feet were slightly braced, and he smelled faintly of smoke. “Clarke, is everything all right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not your day.”
“I know.” A boyish grin tipped the edges of Clarke’s lips, reminding her that he was a very attractive man. “I did ring the bell. Respecting your space.”
As he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, she braced but did not pull back. “You smell like fire.”
“I’m a firefighter,” he said easily. “And the department did a controlled burn today.”
“Oh.”
“I just came out to check on you two.” He winked at Nate. “Hey, pal.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“As you can see, we’re fine,” Ann said.
“I figured you were, but I needed to be sure.” He dropped his gaze to the calluses on his palms, darkened by more ash.
“What’s prompting all this?”
“The fire in town. It reminded me of the other one. And what we could have lost.”
The words strengthened the chain forged between them that night. If Gideon had not rushed into the house, there would be no her, no Nate, and if Clarke had not risked his life, Joan would be dead.
“We drove by it today,” Nate said. “It was a bad one.”
“Yes, it was, pal,” Clarke said.
Since Nate was little, he had enjoyed going to work with Clarke. He’d told her that he loved riding the truck and hanging out at the station with the other firefighters. Moving her son out to the ranch had cut down on some of Nate’s time with his father, and she felt guilty about that.
“Hey, Mom, does Dad know about Kyle and my half-birthday party?”
The boys had been born in the dead of the Montana winter, and as the boys got into school, they had voted to celebrate their birthdays in September. The kids were back from summer holidays, school was only just starting, and the chance of a snowstorm was greatly reduced.
“No, I haven’t told him yet.” Every time she’d picked up the phone to call or text Clarke about the party, something else had popped up. Ann smiled. “It’s Thursday. Nothing fancy. We’ll be out here at the ranch. Four of his other friends are coming. And you are welcome. I should have told you, but I’ve just been rattled.”
“It’s okay, Ann. And yes, I would love to attend the party. Why a Thursday?”
“Only day we