In the morning, she got up with a heavy heart. Both Wes and Tank were leaving today. She went downstairs and saw that Tank was already up and through the open door she saw his duffel was on the porch. When she padded out to the warm wood, he was setting the last piece of Echo’s kennel in the back of the SUV.

“Hey, you’re not leaving without breakfast, are you?”

“No, just getting everything in the truck. Where’s Cowboy?”

“He’s still asleep.”

“Lazy bastard.”

She laughed. He followed her back into the house, and they got to making breakfast together.

He nudged her with his hip. “What’s wrong?”

She gave him a startled look. “He’s leaving today,” was all she could manage.

He frowned. “Did you talk to him about…you know…you guys.”

“You’re not a very good girlfriend,” she said nudging him back.

He scowled. “I can eat ice cream like a boss, but no chick movies or fashion advice.”

She laughed softly. “I’m going to miss you and your grouchy disposition.”

He brightened. “I’m going to miss you, too,” he growled, hugging her one-armed around the neck.

“Something smells good,” Wes said entering the kitchen a few minutes later.

“Yeah, no thanks to you, slacker.”

He just gave Tank the middle finger.

After breakfast was done and they helped her clean up, Tank said, “Take care of yourself, Kia. I’m sorry for the circumstances that brought me here, but glad I had a chance to meet you.”

She hugged him hard and for a moment, his arms were out at his side, then he wrapped them around her. She pressed a small cooler in his hands. “I made you a few things to eat and there’s some water in there. Some treats for Echo, too.” Her throat felt tight. She knelt down and hugged Echo, and he licked her face. “Triton’s going to miss his buddy.”

“Yeah.”

“The Catinator is going to miss him, too.” He yowled from the back of the couch.

“Goodbye, furrball,” Tank said as he passed, but the cat just continued to lick his paws.

“He’s broken up about it, I see.” He shook Wes’s hand. “I’ll see you back in San Diego.”

“Thanks for coming, Tank. I appreciate your help in protecting Kia.”

He nodded, then he and Echo were gone. She already felt his absence. Wes had already brought down his duffel, and when he saw her face, he immediately took her into his arms.

“We’ll figure it out, darlin’, I promise. A few days with my family before they totally disown me, then we’ll talk. Okay.”

She raised her face unable to hold back the tears. “Aw, damn, don’t cry. You’re tearing me up.”

She wiped at her face and kissed him, wondering if he would come back. Hoping that he would. She needed to get this whole Sweetwater thing resolved and come clean with Wes about the ranch. Tell him about her investigation and let him know that she’d found the right gun dealer after hacking into the ATF’s gun control database. She talked to him in DC. He said that he remembered the guy he sold it to, a big, burly redheaded fella with a ten-gallon hat named Rodger James, Sr. Big Red. He said he would tell the sheriff all about it.

After about ten minutes, there was a knock at the door, and she ran to it thinking it might be Wes coming back. When she opened the door, Red stood there. “What do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you.” It was the eerily calm yet calculated look in his eyes that sparked a sense of unease deep inside. “Can’t you spare a minute?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “After the name calling yesterday? No, I don’t think so. Leave.”

Triton rose at the sound of her voice, his eyes watching Red’s every move.

Without warning, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her onto the porch at the same time he slammed the front door. The dog lunged forward, but it was too late, he was trapped on the other side. She could hear the way he scrabbled against the barrier, his barking and growling frantically loud.

“What do you think you’re doing? Let me go!” she shouted, her heart’s frantic beating a hard pounding in her chest. His eyes were mean and predatory. “I’m sick of waiting for what should have been mine. You’re going to give me what I want.”

Oh, God. She couldn’t believe this was happening after all that she’d been through. His hold on her hair was punishing, and he dragged her across the yard toward the barn. As he walked, he shouted, “I’ve waited patiently for you to find the owner. For months, I dealt with your stalling tactics. For weeks, I’ve had to endure frustration after frustration.” His voice rose with anger. “I’m done waiting.” He’d caught her so completely off guard that she didn’t even have shoes on. The stones from the yard cutting her feet.

Once inside the dim interior, she fought him, but he backhanded her across the face. She fell against Quicksand’s stall. The horses screamed, spooked by the thud, sensing her fear and the violence in the air.

He walked over and grabbed her around the neck and squeezed. Her oxygen was effectively cut off, and there was a frenzied light in his eyes. “I’ll kill you right here, right now if you fight me again. The property be damned.” He shook her hard, and she clawed at his fingers. “Do you understand me?”

She couldn’t speak, but she managed to nod her head. He released her, and she doubled over choking and dragging in lungfuls of air.

He grabbed her by the arm this time and headed for the loft.

He pulled her up the stairs, and when he reached the top, he shoved her so hard she fell, sprawled out on the hard, wooden floor. She lay stunned for a minute, her hands stinging, her shoulder aching where she had hit. Her upper arm throbbing from his fierce hold on her. He went to the loft door and opened it wide.

Then he came back to her and pulled out a sheath of papers. “This is a contract for fair market value. You’re going to sign it.”

She looked up at him as if he’d lost his mind and maybe he had. “I already know what your father did to Wes’s father. He’s not going to be able to enjoy that property. I have corroboration that he bought that gun right before Travis was killed. Let me go now, and I won’t press charges.”

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound not full of mirth at all but something much scarier. “You are such a stupid bitch. My father didn’t have the guts to get Travis out of the way.” His eyes shone too bright, his smile pure evil.

She closed her eyes. She had been so totally wrong. It hadn’t been Big Red who had murdered Travis. It had been his son, a son who needed to prove his own mettle to his father. Red had killed Travis McGraw.

“Yeah, you’re getting it.”

“How could you? You’re a monster.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, freak.” He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the open door. He pushed her toward the edge of the loft and she screamed. The horses kicked and banged in the stalls below her and her head spun as the ground looked so far away.

He jerked her back. “Sign the papers, Kia, now.”

She closed her eyes. She simply didn’t have a choice. “All right! I’ll sign them.”

He dragged her back to where the contract was and threw her down on the floor again. She heard a deep yowl and looked up. BFA was in the rafters, his eyes reflecting for a moment.

She signed them and then threw them back at him. “Now get off my property.”

He inspected them. Then folded them and tucked them in his inside jacket pocket.

“Not just yet.”

She tried to run when she realized that Red had no intention of letting her live. She tried to reach the baling hook that was stuck in one of the bales, but he grabbed her hair again and dragged her up. She kicked and screamed, but it did no good, he was too strong.

Her heart broke because she wasn’t going to get to come clean with Wes. She was never going to have a chance to tell him, explain. She sobbed softly. He would come back here and find her broken, dead body on the ground. She couldn’t bear the thought of him finding her like he’d found his dad.

He dragged her to the opening, laughing. “It’s not the fall,” he said, his mouth close to her ear, his hot breath on her skin. “It’s the landing that’s rough.”

* * *

Cowboy drove away from Kia’s feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have to think about this. He wanted her. He had no idea how it was going to work, but he wasn’t going to leave her with tears in her eyes and uncertainty. He did a U-turn after checking to make sure no cars were coming and headed back to her place. As he drove in, he saw the white Lincoln. Red. What the hell was he doing here?

As soon as he got out of his truck, he heard Triton’s frantic bark, and he started toward the house, but then there was a bloodcurdling scream, and he froze in mid-stride, breaking to a run. The barn! Kia!

He went back to the truck and unlatched his case, grabbing the gun and the clip. He jammed it into the magazine on the run, racking the slide as he got to the open barn door. The loft. He rushed down the aisle, the horses were going crazy in their stalls.

He pelted up the stairs and to his horror, Red had Kia by the hair and was shoving her toward the open loft door.

“Wes beat me at everything.” His mouth twisted with rancor. “He’s such a fucking hero. Wait until he comes back here and finds out what I’ve done to you.”

Just as Cowboy lined up the sights with Red’s torso, but before he pulled the trigger, a cream and brown angry, spitting BFA dropped down out of the loft like a pouncing tiger, claws extended. He landed right on top of Red’s head and dug in swiping at his face, his back claws digging into his neck.

The man howled in pain and spun, trying to dislodge the cat who raked his face again, bit down hard on his cheek, yowling and hissing. As soon as he dislodged the attack cat, Kia balled up her fist and hit him right in the kisser. He clutched his nose, blood gushed and he backed up and hit the barn wall, his face a mass of welts and deep bites and scratches.

He turned to look at Cowboy who didn’t move a muscle, the cold message in his eyes that all Red had to do was give him a reason. With defeat filling his eyes, he slid down the wall to the floor, a defeated, broken man.

She ran to him and threw her arms around him. “Grab my phone, darlin’, and call the sheriff. He didn’t take his eyes off Red.

Kia did as he asked and when she was done giving him the details, Red used his suit jacket to press against his nose.

Sirens sounded in the distance and Cowboy narrowed his eyes. “You ever touch her again, and there won’t be a hole big enough for you to hide in.”

They heard cars sliding to a halt outside and the sound of running feet. Jerry came up and said, “Boy, you got yourself plenty of trouble here.”

Cowboy looked over at Kia and said softly, “Don’t I know it.”

As Red passed, he pulled a sheaf of papers out of his pocket and threw them at Cowboy. “Did she dupe you, too, asshole? She’s owned Sweetwater this whole time.”

The sheriff and his deputy hauled Red down the stairs. But Cowboy was frozen in place. He turned to her, her dark hair a wild tumble around her shoulders, bruises coloring her cheeks, on her neck, her upper arm, a stricken look on her face. As if it was happening all over again, he remembered coming in the house, it was eerily quiet. He’d called out for his dad and laughed softly thinking he’d fallen asleep in the study again. He’d gone inside and said chidingly, “Are you snoozing?” His words had cut off, his mouth going dry when he saw the bullet hole in his temple, the congealed blood and his dad’s open and staring eyes. It was overwhelming, the feeling of betrayal that had washed over him and he felt it again as he looked at her, trying to get his mind around the fact that she…she owned Sweetwater and hadn’t said a word all this time.

Pressing her hand nervously together, Kia swallowed hard and met his gaze. “Wes, I can explain.”

He didn’t give her a chance to speak. His voice was quiet, controlled and laced with anger. “I can’t believe you would do that and not tell me.”

“Wes, please.”

She reached for him, but he jerked away, his face scored with barely contained despair. “There’s nothing to explain. You had so many opportunities to tell me this information. You deceived me even after I asked you to find out who owned Sweetwater. You lied to my face.”

“I can explain.”

He turned away and started out of the loft, and she went after him, her knees wanted to buckle. She caught him at the opening to the barn. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“It’s a simple conversation, Kia,” he snapped roughly. “I thought we had trust.”

* * *

Her mind refused to function, and she stared up at him, groping for something to say that would cut through his fury. But nothing came, no answer, no explanations—nothing but a sickening fear. Driven by desperation, she made another attempt to reason with him, her midriff churning with a mix of guilt, alarm and helplessness. She reached toward him, pleading with him. “Wes, please. You’ve got it all wrong, believe me.”

He jerked away, his eyes blazing as he shot her a look of contempt before turning away. “You’re the one who is keeping secrets, and you ask me to believe you? That’s a hell of a joke!” Wes dropped the papers and the wind swirled around them and carried them across the yard, like her dreams, blowing away. He walked purposely to his truck and got inside. As he slammed the door, their eyes met through the windshield, then he backed the truck up and peeled out of her driveway.

She limped across the yard, a sick feeling washing through her. She opened the door and calmed a agitated Triton. Walking to the couch she sank down on it and drew up her knees and pressed her forehead against them. God, what had she done? What kind of damage had she caused? She had only wanted to protect him, but she had hurt him instead. Worse than that, she had resurrected the shame, the pain, the trauma that had been riding him hard for ten years.

A hollow, sinking feeling settled in her abdomen. Anything she tried to do now would only make matters worse. Her expression drawn, she turned and went up to the room they’d shared. Heartsick and overwhelmed by guilt, so alone in the bed where he’d made such passionate love to her, she finally let the tears come—tears that welled up from the bleak emptiness inside her.

That night as she lay in bed, she thought about Wes, and she so wanted to talk to him, but what could she say? There was so much that she’d held back, and she thought long and hard about why. She had said it was because she wanted the evidence she needed to convict Big Red, but that wasn’t the real truth. She was afraid, and it was a dark and buried fear that she only realized now.

She’d hurt him in the worst possible way. By the sin of omission, she’d betrayed him. But what was most unforgivable of all was that she’d done it because she was scared. She knew that now. She’d been afraid of him abandoning her like so many people had in her life.

Even computers had homes: the desktop; websites had home pages, and Microsoft Word’s first tab after File was Home. But this wasn’t about her logical mind. This was about the heart she had never given to anyone because it had been flawed. She’d loved him from afar and now she loved him for real. Her hands fisted as if she was trying to hold onto him, but she knew from her past that was impossible, especially when people always let her down.

She’d bought Sweetwater to preserve it, that was true. She’d wanted to save the ranch that Travis had died fighting for, but the real reason, the real truth was that it was Wes’s home. She couldn’t bear the thought that he would lose it.

She knew now what home meant and it didn’t have to do with brick and mortar or wood and beams or marble and glass, it didn’t have to do with a lost ranch or someone’s hometown.

Home wasn’t really a place…it was a feeling.

It was love.