They sat out on Amber’s back porch, nestled together in the swing. She was leaning against him, her leg swinging off the side. His thoughts remained troubled. Telling her that he was leaving was going to be the toughest thing he had to do in a long time, but necessary. Mitchell and Zach had developed a plan of their own, one that Mitchell had refused to talk about on the phone. He rubbed her arm, brushing his fingers across her skin and while the scenery was beautiful, he wasn’t paying attention to anything.

“The graph is missing,” Amber said casually.

“What?” Lifting his head, he leaned over to see her face. “What did you say?”

“I said, the graph you looked at is missing. I wanted to take a better look at it and it’s not there.”

“What the hell?”

“I think someone from the party took it.”

Camden thought about what she was saying. “Drago.”

“Maybe. Why do you think that?”

Exhaling, he knew he should have told her what he’d learned before, but what was he supposed to say? “Drago used to work on oil rigs.”

“I knew that. He never lied about his previous job.”

“But did you know where he worked?”

She sat up, sliding her feet to the porch floor. “No. I didn’t really think it mattered.”

“Alaska and for a subsidiary of Bart Randolph.”

Bristling, she pursed her mouth and balled her fists.

“That might not mean anything, but I thought you should know.”

“Then he’s the one working to sabotage me.”

“What makes you think anyone is?” Camden asked, easing the hair from her face.

“Think about it, Camden. Every location of the steers has been known. The fire was set in a place that I didn’t have cameras. The party wasn’t something I advertised yet that’s when the fuckers took down the fence. Then the graph being stolen. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“No, I guess I don’t either. I don’t know. For all the misgivings I had about him, the way he acted when… When Walt was killed was real. He didn’t have any idea what was going to happen.”

“So, good ol’ Bart kept him in the dark.”

Camden had a feeling there was someone else, but he was going to have to allow the plan to work. While he hoped that Bart would make a play, his anger and carelessness fueled by the visit to his office, he had his doubts. The man hadn’t been able to garner as much help as he would need to get this far without being a cool cucumber. “If there is someone betraying you, that will be found out.”

“Yeah? Well, my guess is it’ll be too late by then.” She jerked up and walked toward the stairs, leaning against the post.

“If you need money, you know I can help until we figure this out.”

She half smiled as she glanced in his direction. “I’m not taking your charity, Camden. I appreciate the offer, but I need to work this out.”

“Have you tried talking to the other ranchers? Maybe there’s something you can do together.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll do that. Will you go with me?” She turned to face him.

He looked away and shook his head. “I have to go back.”

“What do you mean, back?”

“To Dallas. Because Bart is making a play for Steele industries, we need to finalize a plan of how to deal with the information. We can’t allow the stocks to fall. The Board of Directors needs to be made aware.” Her look of shock was mixed with a hint of anger. “I was hoping you’d come with me.”

“You have to be kidding me. There’s no way I can go anywhere. Not only is Jorge in the hospital, but we just had a death on this ranch. I can’t leave. What do you think the police will say let alone the rest of the crew? They’re counting on me.”

Camden rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around her. “I should only be a couple of days. Then I’ll come back.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“And I don’t want to go.” He thought about the ledger. “Amber, we need to find the graph and I noticed something else in the ledger.”

“What?”

“Did you find a deed or a contract of any kind in the box?”

Amber took a step away, narrowing her eyes. “I found the actual mortgage papers for the ranch, but nothing else. Why?”

“Did your father have any type of hiding place in the house? Think. This is very important.”

She hesitated. “Not that I know of. Daddy was very up front and in your face. Everything he left was in the box.”

“Nothing like a safe deposit box of any kind?” He noticed after a few seconds that her eyes opened wide.

“Wait a minute. There was a box and a few keys inside.”

“Keys?”

She nodded then darted to the door, racing inside.

He trailed behind her waiting as she sorted through the items. “What were they in?’

“A small wooden box. There were two belt buckles also inside from when he won a couple rodeos. Where the hell is it?” She grabbed the big box, jerking it from the floor then walked around her desk, finally ending on her hands and knees. “It’s gone.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“Nope.” Amber looked up, her eyes darting back and forth. “Whoever took the items knew what they were looking for. What in the hell? Damn it!”

Hissing, he needed to figure this out for the both of them. “What did your father have to do with Bart?”

“All I know is that they worked together for a period of time. Daddy refused to talk about any of the details.” She pulled together some of the piles, dumping them in the box and rose to her feet.

“There is a missing piece here, a reason that Bart is focusing on you. The other ranches are valuable, but not without the Rattlesnake Ranch. We just need to figure out what the piece is.”

She laughed, the sound exasperated. “All the while looking for the person who has nothing better to do than to betray me.”

“I think we should have a discussion with Drago.”

“I agree. Let’s go.” She headed out of the room

He caught her arm. “Hold on. We need to think this through.”

“I guess you’re right. I need a drink.” She gave him an odd look. “When do you have to leave?”

“I’m taking out first thing in the morning. If you change your mind…”

She shrugged. “I can’t. Not right now.”

“I understand. Let’s see if we can find Drago. Maybe he’s not working for Bart but knows who might be.”

“And maybe I’m just going to fire him.”

“You need all the men you have,” he encouraged, taking her hand. He heard the sound of her cell phone and cringed. Additional bad news she didn’t need to hear right now.

She tugged the phone from her shorts. “Amber Harding.”

He could tell by the horrified expression on her face that this was indeed bad news.

“Yes, I can be there. I’m so sorry, Renalda. Hold on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Ending the call, she held the phone to her head, gasping for air. “It’s Jorge. He’s taken a turn for the worse. And they…” Tears slipped from her eyes. “They don’t think he’s going to make it through the night.”

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” He gathered her into his arms, holding her head against his chest.

Amber sniffed before pushing away. “I have to be strong for him. Jorge wants to save the ranch.”

“Listen to me. You go to the hospital. I’ll have a talk with Drago. And trust me, I will get information out of him.”

“I don’t know. I need this to end.”

“I understand but trust me. I know what I’m doing.” When she finally nodded in agreement, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed his lips. “Thank you for caring about me.”

“Take my number. Let me know what’s going on.”

Without hesitating, she typed his phone number into her phone and groaned. “This just can’t be happening. Not right now.”

“Jorge is a strong man. He might go into remission. Miracles do happen, but you have to believe.”

“Miracles. He might.” As she walked out of the room, her face fell.

She had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Camden waited until she’d left before heading for his truck. He was going to figure out what Drago knew and if anything, he might tear the man apart.

Darkness was settling in by the time he drove to Drago’s cabin. He could tell the man was home, given the truck parked outside as well as the few lights from the interior. As soon as he stepped out of the truck, the front door opened, Drago stepping outside.

“I had a feeling you’d find me,” Drago said as if he had indeed been anticipating a visit.

“We are going to have a discussion.”

Drago tipped his head, a chuckle under his breath, then nodded. “All right. Let’s have a talk.”

Camden wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug expression off the man’s face, but he maintained his composure. He followed the man inside and stood just by the door, gritting his teeth.

“So talk, Mr. CEO.”

“You know who I am and now I know who you are.”

Laughing, Drago held up a bottle of bourbon. “You might as well have a drink with me. After today, I think we both require hard liquor.”

He didn’t say anything but moved closer to the table, watching as the Russian filled two glasses, sliding one across the table.

“If you think you know me then you learned that I used to work for the son of a bitch.”

“If you mean, Bart Randolph, yes. An oil rig in Alaska. Funny how you left abruptly.”

Drago took a swig of his drink. “Did this report tell you why I left?”

“Only that there had been an explosion.”

“An explosion. Ten good men were killed because of arrogance. Greed. Ten. It didn’t have to happen. The rig had no safety measures. None. The only reason I wasn’t on the rig with those men, my men, was that I’d been beaten by two assholes the night before. The beat down left me in the hospital or I would have died alongside them. After I got out of the hospital, I never looked back, but I did make certain that various people knew what was occurring at that damn site.”

Camden absorbed the information, yet he remained cautious. “The fire was never mentioned in the various reports, and there were several. Not once.”

“Well, of course not. Do you really think that they would allow this kind of information out? They shoved it under the rug, just like the other accidents that had occurred.” Drago snorted and swirled the liquor. “I threatened to turn them in more than once. You can imagine the shit that was stirred up.”

“Interesting. Then you show up here. Why? A glutton for punishment?”

Drago laughed again. “Don’t be naïve, Mr. Rush. I am a man of great purpose. I swore on the day those men died that I would have my revenge. Here I work. Waiting for their next mistake. And they will have many.” He polished off his drink and poured another.

“Then you know they are planning on opening another branch in Texas, if they can threaten enough good people into selling off their land.”

Drago eyed him, looking up and down. “They are smarter than they were before. You’ll find no records and no one willing to talk about what’s going on. People are afraid.”

“Of Bart.”

“Bart Randolph is a pig. He may have been powerful once, but few care about his, how do you say, grandiose tactics? They grow weary of his bullshit. The man you need to concern yourself with is Kyle. Bart Randolph’s son is the monster. He also worked in Alaska, honing his particular skills. His rules. His decisions. That is the man to watch out for.”

“Why?”

Drago laughed as he walked closer. “Because he holds the cards. He owns the majority of stock in his father’s corporation. He’s also brutal, evil. The man has no conscience.”

Camden had been around loners hell bent on revenge and while Drago was crude as well as dangerous, he was an intelligent man. Enough so, he was inclined to believe him. “They are aware you’re here?”

“No doubt, however they see me as zero threat. They have another thing coming.”

“If what you say is true, I believe they will stop at nothing to destroy the good people of this town, including Amber. I will not allow that to happen.”

Drago narrowed his eyes, closing the distance. “A pretty boy like yourself. What do you have in mind, Mr. CEO?”

A sly smile crossed his face. “Do not underestimate me or what I can do, Drago. There have been men who’ve lost their lives for this very reason.”

“Hmmm… I guess we shall see.”

“Yes. As far as what I have in mind? Men like the Randolphs respond to very little except money or the lack thereof. The question is. Are you willing to help?” Camden remained where he was, refusing to blink. Refusing to back down.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Watching their take down.”

After a few seconds, Drago took a step back. “What the hell. I know certain things that might be able to help you. Weaknesses. They enjoy the game of cat and mouse. To them, this is entertainment.”

Entertainment. He would certainly keep this in mind. “I’m glad to hear I can count on you.” Camden lifted his drink. “To an interesting friendship.”

“I will tell you this, Mr. Dane. I care for Amber, but I’m no fool. She could never love a man like myself. I have nothing to offer her but a firm hand.” Drago sneered and pointed his finger. “However, if you fuck with her. I will kill you.”

Take a number. He thought about the roses. They didn’t come from Drago. “Fair enough.”

“Then we understand each other.” Drago lifted his glass but shook his head. “There is one thing you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“Kyle is obsessed with Amber. There is nothing he won’t do to have her, including destroying everyone and everything she loves.”

A cold chill shifted down his spine into his legs and while Camden had never been prone to jealousy, at this moment, he knew he would have no issues hunting Kyle, as well as his father, if necessary.

And his method of game playing?

Shoot to kill.

Amber opened her eyes, blinking several times as she adjusted to the dimness. Shifting, she gritted her teeth. Her neck was stiff, and she was freezing to death. The air conditioning in the room was blasting, pushing frigid air into the tiny room. Rubbing her arms, she sat up and concentrated on the clicking and beeping sounds that seemed to be all around her. She’d hadn’t planned on falling asleep in the stiff, vinyl chair, but she wanted to stay with Jorge.

Leaning forward, she exhaled as she studied the man who had been a second father. The once vibrant and strapping man seemed so frail, as if the very life had been sucked out of him. At least he seemed at peace, free of any pain. She glanced at the IV in his arm and followed the clear tube all the way to the machine pumping him full of morphine. How had everything spiraled out of control so quickly?

There was no one else in the room. Hopefully that meant Renalda was finally getting some rest. She scooted the chair closer and took his hand into hers, being very careful to avoid the second IV. “Oh, Jorge. I’m just so sorry.”

He’d fought the damn disease for as long as his body would allow. How was she going to be able to live without him? She pushed away another round of tears. The man deserved her strength, if for no other reason than his family. They had so little and she wanted to give both Jorge and the family the world. Damn her money problems. Damn her father for keeping her in the dark.

Damn the cancer. Fuck. Fuck!

Rage swept through her, creating a gurgling in her stomach, pushing against the acid that had been there for a solid day. Everything was out of control and she had no idea how to stop the freight train. She dropped her head, kissing his hand as she thought about Camden. The man was trying to protect her, but he had no understanding of Bart or his tactics. “I’m going to kill you.”

She hadn’t realized she’d even said the words out loud until Jorge moaned. Jerking her head up, she crowded closer.

Jorge shifted, his eyes fluttering open. “Who are you going to kill?”

Smiling, she adjusted the sheet. “Don’t talk. Save your strength.”

He coughed and moved his fingers, rubbing her thumb. “I’m not dead yet.”

“I didn’t say that, but you need to rest.”

“I’m fine. Tell me why you’re going to kill someone.”

“Just the same. I don’t know.” She had no idea if she should tell him anything.

“How is Camden?”

She rubbed his arm aimlessly. “Always the matchmaker. You’re as bad as Pepper.”

“He cares about you.”

“I know, and I care about him as well, but the timing isn’t right. Not with you being in the hospital and the issues at the ranch. I just need my space.”

“You need him. Trust him.”

“You know? I do. I might be insane, but I do. He’s become important to me.”

Jorge winked. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“You knew all along he was with Rush Enterprises and that the issue with Bart was something he couldn’t resist getting in the middle of. You old coot,” Amber teased.

“I’m no fool. He can help you.”

“Yeah? He wants me to go back to Dallas with him. He and the other owners of the company have some plan in mind to stop Bart in his tracks. As if that could happen.”

“Go with him.”

“Not now. Not with you being in here,” she insisted, wagging her finger.

He tugged on her hand, pulling her closer. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I never could hide anything from you. I found a graph in Daddy’s things a couple days ago. I had no idea what I was looking at until Camden told me. Oil. A graph depicting how much oil there could be under the ranch. I also found a ledger. I think Daddy was hiding the fact he knew there’s oil on the property from everyone.” Laughing, she leaned against the rails of the bed. “I know that must sound crazy.”

“You need to listen to me very carefully,” he whispered.

She gave him a look and shook her head. “Just a pipe dream or maybe a nightmare.”

“There is oil. Several veins.”

“Jorge. What do you know?” She heard the words but how did Jorge know? “Did my father tell you something?”

He coughed again, wheezing until his body shook.

She grabbed for the nurse’s button until he pressed his hand against hers. “Just stop. This is hurting you. I should go and allow you to rest.”

Sucking in his breath, he closed his eyes briefly and waved his hand. “No.”

“Then save your breath.” Her heart ached seeing him in this condition. There was nothing she could do, and the prognosis wasn’t good. He had maybe weeks to live.

Jorge concentrated on his breathing until he was able to speak, the words methodical, laced with a serious tone. “You need to hear what I’m going to say to you. I should have confided in you sooner. Your father, stubborn man, didn’t want me telling you anything.”

“Why?” To realize that her father had kept so many secrets from her was infuriating, but he must have had his reasons.

“Because he knew what oil could do to the ranch, but this is your destiny.”

“Selling off the land? I refuse. You have to understand why.”

Jorge shook his head. “Cultivating.”

“Cultivating?” She thought about the single word. “Oil? As in go into business? I would have no idea what I’m doing.” Amber half laughed and thought about Camden’s words.

“Amber. I know what I’m talking about and Camden can help you.”

“Wait a minute. You planned this.”

“My goddaughter deserves the best,” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

“Oh, Jorge. I love you so.” She sucked in her breath, fighting the tears burning her eyes.

“You have no time to wait and you must allow Camden to help you. Promise me. I will be all right. Bart is ruthless.”

“I can’t leave you. I won’t.” Amber shook her head over and over again.

“Promise me that you’ll go to Dallas. This is all I ask.”

She wanted nothing more than to refuse, but she could see pain and certainly love and concern in his eyes. “Fine. I promise.”

Jorge smiled, a long breath pushing past his lips. “Thank you. There should have been certain contracts in your father’s things.”

“No. Nothing. Somebody came into the house and stole the graph and I think they took several keys. Was he hiding something else?” She noticed the change in his breathing, his expression of anger. “What?”

“Keys.”

“Yes. I have no idea what they were for. Just a bunch of keys.”

“The person who took them knew what they were looking for,” he whispered.

She groaned. “Whoever took them betrayed me. And I will hunt the asshole down.”

“My sweet Amber. There is much at stake. Your father entrusted me with a copy of the key, but you must go to the box immediately. If this person has your father’s keys, it’s only a matter of time before they expose the information and it will destroy you.”

Amber shook her head. “The box at the house? I’ve been through everything. Nothing is making any sense.”

Jorge squeezed her hand. “Safe deposit box.”

“Where?”

“There is a little bank just outside of town. Your father used to do business there. They would never work with a man like Bart.”

“And what am I going to find?”

His eyes flashed. “Answers.”

Amber sat in the parking lot of the hospital. The darkness was comforting, giving her a quiet moment of peace. She squeezed her hand around the piece of metal and sighed. The single key was tiny and according to Jorge, magical, providing her with the concept of a future. She slid down in the seat and debated whether she wanted anything to do with this kind of future. If what her godfather had said was close to the truth, she would be forced to make certain decisions.

And she’d freaking promised to go with Camden to Dallas. The last thing on her agenda was some damn trip. What could he have to offer her there anyway? Why had everything in her life turned to shit? She looked at the time on her phone and grimaced. It was after midnight. After starting the engine, she debated calling Camden. Not yet. She needed time to process what Jorge had told her as well as to go through the rest of the ledger by herself.

This was her responsibility and she was going to be forced to take the situation seriously. “Damn it!” She gripped the steering wheel and threw the gear into drive. She also needed to talk with the police. Everything was a freaking mess. Pressing down hard on the accelerator, she roared out of the parking lot, her windows down, the music blaring. Maybe the fresh air would actually clear her aching head.

Nothing was calming her nerves or her anger. She grabbed her phone then dropped it. Her instinct was to call Camden and they could figure everything out together. They would go to the safe deposit box in the morning. Yes, that would work. Then they could figure out what these contracts meant. Everything would be just fine. Dandy in fact.

She snorted, her thoughts drifting to having her head examined. The remainder of the drive was no more calming than fighting with a rattler. She was on edge, but she knew in her gut that if anyone could help find the answers, Camden would. Maybe the simple fact was that she wanted him with her.

His mouth. His hands. His tongue. His dick. The smile was easy, her lurid thoughts giving her chills for all the right reasons. As she rolled over a pothole, the jeep dipping then jerking, she reveled in the ache her shorts were giving her backside. She fanned her face and envisioned the way he’d gazed down at her, his violet eyes peering into her very soul, and commanded her to suck him. If only she could suck the man dry every day.

Now, what would her father have to say about that? He’d no doubt wash her mouth out with soap, just like Camden. Giggling, she made the turn into the ranch and swiveled in her seat, the friction creating a wave of heat, forcing her nipples to harden. She slipped one hand into her tank top and past the thin lace of her bra, pinching her already stiff peak. Being this turned on had to be a sin in some county in Texas.

Her giggle turned into a full laugh and she realized she’d never been to Dallas. The couple of days away from the madness might do her some good. If Jorge took a turn for the worse, she could always come back straight away. Yes. This was a good plan. Pulling up to the house, she cut the engine and leaned over the steering wheel. The beautiful clapboard house really was the only place she’d known as home.

And Dallas wasn’t that far away. Right? She could continue dating Camden and see what happens. She grabbed her purse and jumped out of the jeep. Maybe Jorge’s attempt at matchmaking had gotten to her. She unlocked the door and walked inside.

There was a light coming from the kitchen. Camden must have left a light on. Yes. Stop being jumpy. She hesitated then took very silent steps toward the kitchen, darting her head into the door. As expected, the light over the sink was on. There was no one waiting to grab her or otherwise.

She dropped her bag onto the counter and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. First things first. A call to Camden. Then she was going to have to pack at least a few things. Then she’d have to wake Chowder and let him know. She trusted him enough to take care of everything while she was gone. As she created several lists in her mind, she pulled out her phone, dialing Camden’s number.

Voicemail.

“Hey. Call me. We need to talk before you leave. I just can’t believe everything that’s happened. Plus, I think it’s best that I go with you. Yeah, Jorge talked me into it.” She laughed and eased against the counter. “Call me. I don’t care what time it is.”

She eased the phone down and brushed her hand over it. He’d call soon enough. What in the hell was she going to take with her? Heading up the stairs, she was on the top landing when her skin began to crawl. Swallowing, she peered around her. Her skin was prickling, hair on the back of her neck standing up on end. Beads of sweat trickled down from her forehead and she had difficulty breathing. Why? There was nothing amiss, no distinct smells. Nothing.

She’d never had this kind of reaction in her own house, but she trusted her instinct. Keeping her steps silent, she avoided the areas where the older wood creaked as she headed for her bedroom. The door was closed. Had she closed it earlier? She could no longer remember. Holding her breath, she moved into the first bedroom, turning on the light. Everything appeared normal.

The guest bathroom was silent, only a slight drip of the bathtub faucet. The second bedroom was also empty, only a few boxes and a dresser nestled inside. She continued on her path and when she reached the door of her bedroom, she froze, unable to move. This was ridiculous. There was no boogeyman. There was no asshole waiting for her to come home at some ungodly hour.

In quick motions, she threw open the door and found the overhead light. Seeing nothing but her crumpled comforter and pillows strewn across the bed, she sighed. Her nerves were getting the best of her.

As she rummaged through the closet, determining the perfect suitcase, she contemplated what kind of attire would be best suited. After five minutes of being unable to make a decision, she remembered she’d left her phone in the kitchen. She trotted downstairs, the same anxious feeling remaining in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she needed a glass of wine to calm her nerves.

Amber waited at the bottom of the stairs, listening for any sounds. The grandfather clock was ticking, a gentle reminder of her father. There were no other noises until she heard the chirping of her phone. She darted into the kitchen, pressing her hand across her mouth to keep from laughing. She’d been reduced to a chick out of a horror movie. She grabbed the phone, almost pushing it to the floor. When she managed to wrap her hand around the thick plastic case, she answered the call without looking.

Static.

“Camden? Can you hear me?” Fantastic. She couldn’t hear a thing. “Call me back. We have a bad connection.” The call had already ended, and she stood waiting for a full two minutes before deciding on the wine. Sleep would be minimal tonight.

Given there were no bottles of chilled white wine, merlot would have to do tonight. She turned on the small radio nestled in the corner and rummaged to find her wine opener. After cutting away the foil, she shoved her hand into the trash. “Ouch!” Yanking her hand into the light, the pinprick on her finger already had a spot of blood. Hissing, she yanked out the trash, ready to crush the hell out of the flowers.

“What the hell?”

Anticipating seeing the entire bunch, she exhaled, her body shaking. Very gingerly she pulled the remaining stalks into the light. The two denuded roses were the only flowers in the trash. Dropping the entire can, she tossed the flowers into the sink and backed away, trying to control her increasing heart rate.

Someone had been inside the house. What if the asshole was hiding, waiting for her return? What did they want? She had no valuables to speak of. None.

Think. Think! One of the guns. She’d been a fool not to carry a gun with her at all times. Suddenly, the living room seemed like a hell of a long way to go. But there was no other choice. She jammed her phone into her back pocket and eased out into the hallway, once again listening. Moving as quietly as possible, she headed straight for the living room, turning on the lamp next to the gun cabinet. There were no missing rifles.

The smell hit her, one she’d know anywhere. Roses. Shaking, she turned around. The roses. The vase. They were positioned on her coffee table, as if placed for her enjoyment. As if drawn to their scent, their former beauty, she walked toward them, her heart racing. Oh, no. Oh, fuck no. She had to get out of the house. Now. She noticed a piece of cardboard with what appeared to be red ink. This was insane. Her legs heavy, she took the two steps closer, picking up the jaggedly cut square. The words were written in blood red.

Bitch. Bitch. Bitch.

“No!” Fear swept into every crevice in her body and she backed away, blinking as she tried to focus, attempted to make sense of what was happening. Turning, she raced toward the door just as it opened. Just as two hands grabbed her arms.

And she knew she was going to die.