acted in self-defense, and any case against him would be dismissed. But yesterday’s senseless grilling from Abner had changed his mind.
For whatever reason, the sneaky little toad was out to get him.
Sitting, he switched on the computer and brought up a search engine. He spent the next half hour reading up on Texas law, the inquest process, and the precedents for charges that could stem from an incident like the one he’d been involved in. What he found wasn’t encouraging. By pulling the trigger a split second too soon, he might have left himself vulnerable.
With a muttered curse he switched off the machine. Most of what he’d read, he could’ve learned from Tori. But now that she had a new man in her life, he couldn’t expect her to drop everything and come running whenever he needed her. And unless her help involved protecting Erin, he had too much pride to ask.
A new man in her life.
The thought deepened the dark hollow Will felt inside. He and Tori were past history, but even now, the thought of Drew Middleton, or any man, taking her away was like having the earth slide out from under his feet. Tori was a beautiful woman, and sooner or later, this was bound to happen. But why the hell did it have to happen now?
Swiveling the chair, he gazed up at the leather-framed sepia-toned photograph on the wall. Bull Tyler had refused to sit for a painted portrait, like the one of his wife that hung above the sideboard in the dining room. But years ago, when he’d been featured in a magazine article about Texas ranching, he’d agreed to be photographed.
The picture, taken when Bull was fifty, showed a handsome, vigorous man in his prime. Dressed in a corduroy jacket, plaid shirt, and leather bolo, and sporting a well-trimmed moustache, he emanated authority. His piercing gaze, from under thick, dark eyebrows, challenged any comer to take him on.
In the last years of his life, after the riding accident that paralyzed his legs, Bull had ruled the ranch family from his wheelchair. But there was no trace of any weakness in this photograph. This was the way Will had chosen to remember his father—powerful, dynamic, and always in charge.
That memory would haunt every decision Will had ever made.
What would you do in my place, Dad? Will gazed up at the blunt, chiseled features as if waiting for an answer. But why ask when he knew what the answer would be? Bull Tyler would have told everybody to go to hell, turned his back, and then walked away.
Maybe for Bull, that would’ve worked, but not these days. The law had too much power. Will would fight the possible charges with every resource he had. But he’d be a fool not to see the cold reality that was staring him in the face. He’d killed a man—the wrong man. If things went badly, he could find himself spending time behind bars.
Starting now, he needed to get his priorities in order—beginning with his family and the ranch.
Abner had told Beau that scheduling and carrying out the inquest would take several weeks. After that, there’d be a trial—or not, depending on the outcome. Either way, Will would have some free time before any decision was made—time to tie up loose ends and put some things right.
One task nagged him every time he looked at his father’s proud face. It was the land—the precious canyon parcel with the spring and the rumored Spanish gold—that Bull had sold to his hated neighbor, Ferg Prescott, for the sum of $1.
Except for that small piece of land, less than an acre, no part of the Rimrock had ever been sold. For the sake of family pride, if nothing else, Will knew he had to get it back.
Last spring he’d made Garn Prescott, Ferg’s son, a generous offer for it. The congressman had refused to sell, blaming some deathbed promise to his father. But things had changed since then. Garn was dead.
Now the land belonged to Lauren.
CHAPTER 4
Will stepped out of the office and walked down the hall to the living room. He’d hoped Lauren and Sky would still be here; but except for the hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen and the steady ticktock of the grandfather clock in the entry, the house was quiet. Nobody appeared to be around, not even Erin.
Mildly puzzled, he walked out onto the porch. He discovered Jasper in his customary chair, a Corona in his hand