a horror movie.”
Emma frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know, a serial killer is on the loose and the woman hears a noise in her basement and decides to check it out. The audience is yelling, ‘Don’t go!’ as she creeps down the stairs . . .”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. There’s no serial killer, and I’m not going down in a basement. Just going home.”
He stared at her, not believing she didn’t get it. “Someone just shot at you. We don’t know if you were the target or just in the wrong place, but either way, you shouldn’t be on the road alone.”
“As far as I know, I don’t have any enemies, so there’s no reason for me to be the target. Someone was probably just trying to scare me so they could finish whatever they were doing.”
“Indulge me. I shouldn’t be much longer,” he said.
Indecision played on her face. “Okay,” she said. “But I’ll wait in my truck.”
A small but grudging victory. Emma was as exasperating now as she’d been years ago. But he had to hand it to her—she was gutsy. A lot of women would have folded after being shot at.
Emma was halfway to the gate when another SUV pulled into Mount Locust and a deputy climbed out and walked toward her. Had to be Trey Carter. He frowned as the chief deputy stopped to talk with Emma, then a minute later he turned and marched away.
“I see Trey made it,” Nate said as he rejoined Sam. “Where is Emma going?”
“Her truck. She’s waiting for me to follow her home.”
“Good deal. I was afraid she would want to leave by herself.”
They both turned as the chief deputy sauntered toward them. Back in high school, Trey had thought highly of himself, and judging by his swagger, he still did.
The deputy removed the toothpick hanging from his mouth and nodded to Sam. “I heard you’d taken the district ranger job,” he said. “Came here all the way from Wyoming. Don’t know that I would’ve traded that gig for Natchez.”
“To each his own.” Sam wasn’t answering Trey’s implied question of why. “Congratulations on making chief deputy.”
For the briefest second, the muscle in Trey’s jaw twitched, then he tipped his head. “Thanks. I expect to learn a lot working with the sheriff.”
From the newspaper accounts Sam had read, Trey had come in a distant second in the November election. Sam turned to Nate. “What time in the morning do you want to meet here?”
“Eight too early?”
“Perfect,” he replied. “I better catch up with Emma, or she’ll leave me behind.”
“You got that right,” Trey said, narrowing his eyes as he looked past Sam to Emma’s truck.
She was right—the chief deputy wasn’t happy just being friends.
4
Sam Ryker. Emma’s face burned at the way she’d run to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. It’d only been a gut reaction to being shot at. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that. She leaned her head back on the headrest. Did she really want to think about the only man she regretted breaking up with?
Thinking about Sam was better than letting the events of the last hour run through her mind in an endless loop. He did look good and had filled out from the beanpole he’d been back in high school and college. Yet there wasn’t an ounce of fat around his waist.
Sam wasn’t pretty-boy handsome like Trey Carter. More rugged with his square jaw and intense brown eyes. Don’t go there. But it was hard not to. If her brother hadn’t disappeared, she and Sam probably would have been married by now and had a couple of kids running around.
But no, Ryan had deserted her, and so had Sam, because that’s what men did. Really? Okay. She’d been the one to return Sam’s ring, but only to preempt him. And maybe she should have given him his ring in person instead of handing it over to his sister, but Emma had been furious with Sam for leaving Ryan at the Hideaway after he’d promised to stay with her brother. If she’d known he wasn’t going to keep his promise, she would have stayed, even though the stress of Ryan’s drinking had triggered a migraine.
Liar. That’s not why you gave his ring back. Emma jerked her attention to where the three men stood. “Come on, Sam,” she muttered, shoving thoughts of him away, but they bounced right back.
Ranger Winters. That’s what he’d called her. She crossed her arms. He