Under Threat by B.J. Daniels (reading the story of the .TXT) 📕

you staring at, you old crone? Go back inside before I take that phone away from you and stick it up your—”

“Fiona,” Chase said as the woman hurriedly turned and rushed back inside. He shook his head as he gave Fiona a wide berth as he headed toward his apartment to lock up. “Go home before the police come.”

“She won’t call. She knows I’ll come back here if she does.”

He hoped Fiona was right about the woman not making the call. Otherwise, he’d be held up making a statement to the police—that’s if he didn’t end up behind bars. He didn’t doubt that Fiona would lie through her teeth about the incident.

“She won’t make you happy,” Fiona screamed after him as he opened the door to his apartment, keeping an eye on her the whole time. The last thing he wanted was her getting inside. If she didn’t have another weapon, he had no doubt she’d find one.

Stopping in the doorway, he looked back at her. Her makeup had run along with her nose. She hadn’t bothered to wipe either. She looked small, and for a moment his heart went out to her. What had happened to that professional, together woman he’d met at the party?

“You need to get help, Fi.”

She scoffed at that. “You’re the one who needs help, Chase.”

He stepped inside, closed and locked the door, before sliding the dead bolt. Who’s to say she didn’t have a half dozen spare keys made. She’d lied about the building manager opening the door for her. She’d lied about a lot of things. He had no idea who Fiona Barkley was. But soon she would be nothing more than a bad memory, he told himself as he finished checking to make sure he hadn’t left anything. When he looked out, he saw her drive away.

Only then did he pick up his duffel bag, lock the apartment door behind him and head for his truck, anxious to get on the road to Montana. But as he neared his pickup, he saw what Fiona had left him. On the driver’s-side window scrawled crudely in lipstick were the words You’ll regret it.

That was certainly true. He regretted it already. He wondered what would happen to her and feared for the next man who caught her eye. Maybe the next man would handle it better, he told himself.

Tossing his duffel bag onto the passenger seat, he pulled an old rag from under the seat and wiped off what he could of the lipstick. Then, climbing into this truck, he pointed it toward Montana and Mary, putting Fiona out of his mind.

There were days when Dana felt all sixty-two of her years. Often when she looked at her twenty-eight-year-old daughter, Mary, she wondered where the years had gone. She felt as if she’d merely blinked and her baby girl had grown into a woman.

Being her first and only daughter, Mary had a special place in her heart. So when Mary hurt, Dana did too. Ever since Chase and Mary had broken up and he’d left town, her daughter had been heartsick, and Dana had had no idea how to help her.

She knew that kind of pain. Hud had broken her heart years ago when they’d disagreed and he’d taken off. But he’d come back, and their love had overcome all the obstacles that had been thrown at them since. She’d hoped that Mary throwing herself into her accounting business would help. But as successful as Mary now was with her business, the building she’d bought, the apartments she’d remodeled and rented, there was a hole in her life—and her heart. A mother could see it.

“Sis, have you heard a word I’ve said?”

Dana looked from the window where she’d been watching Mary unsaddling her horse to where her brother sat at the kitchen table across from her. “Sorry. Did you just say cattle thieves?”

Jordan shook his head at her and smiled. There’d been a time when she and her brother had been at odds over the ranch. Fortunately, those days were long behind them. He’d often said that the smartest thing he’d ever done was to come back here, make peace and help Dana run Cardwell Ranch. She couldn’t agree more.

“We lost another three head. Hud blames paleo diets,” Jordan said, and picked up one of the chocolate chip cookies Dana had baked that morning.

“How many does this make?” she asked.

“There’s at least a dozen gone,” her brother said.

She looked to her husband who sat at the head of the table and had also been watching Mary out the window. Hud reached for another cookie. He came home every day for lunch and had for years. Today she’d made sandwiches and baked his favorite cookies.

“They’re hitting at night, opening a gate, cutting out only a few at a time and herding them to the road where they have a truck waiting,” the marshal said. “They never hit in the same part of any ranch twice, so unless we can predict where they’re going to show up next... We aren’t the only ones who’ve had losses.”

“We could hire men to ride the fences at night,” Jordan said.

“I’ll put a deputy or two on the back roads for a couple of nights and see what we come up with,” Hud said and, pushing away his plate and getting to his feet, shot Dana a questioning look.

Jordan, apparently recognizing the gesture, also got to his feet and excused himself. As he left, Hud said, “I know something is bothering you, and it isn’t rustlers.”

She smiled up at him. He knew her so well, her lover, her husband, her best friend. “It’s Mary. Stacy told me earlier that she mailed a letter from Mary to Chase a few weeks ago. Mary hasn’t heard back.”

Hud groaned. “You have any idea what was in the letter?”

“No, but since she’s been moping around I’d say she is still obviously in love with him.” She shrugged. “I don’t think she’s ever gotten over