Being a lawyer had its perks. When you needed information about someone, you had plenty of resources. Mason had Rich Myer’s address by the following morning. Rich lived a good twenty minutes outside of Bliss on a rural road that Mason drove past and had to backtrack to find. His trailer was set amid some overgrown pecan trees. The siding was rusted, two of the windows were broken out, and the front door looked like a wild animal had mauled it. The door was so beat up that Mason had to search for a solid place to knock.

Not that he expected an answer. There were no vehicles parked in front—at least not with any tires. Mason was more than a little disappointed. He’d looked forward to putting the fear of God in the man. Becky was convinced Rich hadn’t been the one who cut the calf, and maybe she was right. But the guy was still harassing her and needed to stop.

When no one answered his knock, he leaned over from the dilapidated front steps and looked in the window. The place was a pigsty. Beer cans, pizza boxes, and filled ashtrays covered the kitchen table. But it wasn’t the mess that caught his attention as much as the collage of pictures on the wall leading into the living room.

Every single one was of Becky.

He didn’t even try the door to see if it was locked. He just lifted a boot and kicked it in. It rebounded off the wall with a loud bang. If Rich was at home, Mason had just been announced.

The place stunk like smoke, beer, and body odor. He walked straight over to the pictures that had been carefully taped to the wall. Becky hadn’t posed for any of them. She looked completely unaware that someone was photographing her. That pissed him off. He became even more pissed when he saw the one of her skinny-dipping. It was from far enough away that you couldn’t see details, but close enough to know she was naked.

“Sonofabitch!” He started to jerk the picture off the wall, but then stopped. The pictures were evidence that Rich was stalking Becky. They needed to stay right here until she could be convinced to press charges and push for a search warrant. There was little doubt that somewhere in the trailer or in the guy’s vehicle was the knife that had been used to cut the calf.

He left, not bothering to close the door behind him. He hoped the busted door scared Rich. He hoped it scared him enough to get the hell out of Texas, but he doubted it. Stalkers were obsessed with their prey. Nothing short of jail time would stop their infatuation. And sometimes not even that. Which meant that until Rich was locked up, Becky was in danger.

Mason just wished he could get that through her head. If he couldn’t, maybe her brother could. As soon as he was on the highway, he called Zane.

“Mace?” Zane answered in a groggy voice.

“Sorry, man.” Mason glanced at the dash clock. “I forgot about the time difference.”

“No problem.” Zane yawned. “Carly and I need to rise and shine anyway. She signed us up for some snorkeling excursion today—even though I told the woman that cowboys aren’t exactly waterproof.”

Mason heard Carly’s laughter in the background. “You were last night in the hot tub.”

“That’s because I was diving for pearls.”

There was giggling as if Zane was tickling Carly, and just that quickly, Mason realized his mistake. He’d thought he would be helping his friend by watching out for his little sister. Instead, he’d be ruining his honeymoon. Zane was extremely protective of Becky. Once he heard about Rich, he’d want to hop the first flight home. And Mason couldn’t let him do that. Not when there was another way to protect Becky.

“So what’s up?” Zane asked.

“I was just calling to see if it would be okay if I stayed at your ranch for a few days. My air conditioner is broken and the heat here has been pretty unbearable.”

Zane didn’t hesitate. “Of course you can stay at the house. In fact, it will put my mind at ease knowing someone is there to keep an eye on Becky. With my dad in Houston at a livestock show, I’m a little worried about her being in charge.”

As far as Mason could tell, Becky didn’t have problem being in charge. She had a problem listening to reason. He would have his hands full trying to convince her to file charges against Rich.

“And could I ask another favor?” Zane continued. “Do you think you could get Becky away from the ranch next Friday? It’s her birthday and my mother is cooking up a little birthday surprise for her. My daddy should be there by then, but getting Becky to spend the entire day with Daddy is asking a lot.”

“I thought you were going to be gone for two weeks.”

“That’s all part of the plan to throw Becky off. She always expects a surprise party. So this year we planned it for the day before her actual birthday. I hope you can be there. I had my mom send the invitation to your apartment in Austin. I didn’t realize you were going to be in Bliss this soon. Are you getting in some rest and relaxation?”

The last few days had been anything but relaxing, so Mason needed to stretch the truth. “I’ve done a little reading and a little sightseeing, and I plan to do some fishing. And speaking of fishing, I better let you get to your snorkeling. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“See you then. And tell my baby sister to behave herself—not that she’ll listen.”

“Will do,” Mason said before he hung up. Although he didn’t need to remind Becky as much as himself. The kiss he’d given her at the little white chapel had almost sent him over the edge. He’d been seconds away from taking her right then and there. The only thing that had kept him from it was the fact that they didn’t play by the same rules, which was why he made a point of letting her know about his sexual preferences. Now that she knew, he had little doubt that she would stay completely away from him. She wanted sweet, gentle lovers like Honey Bee. Although Honey Bee was no longer her lover.

After she said she didn’t have a boyfriend, he’d been curious. He’d left the chapel and gone straight back to his house to finish reading the diary. Becky hadn’t lied. The last entry was only two short lines.

Honey Bee is gone. My heart is broken forever.

It was a little dramatic. Especially when Becky didn’t act heartbroken. She acted like she was ready for another lover. Just not Mason.

When he got back to his house, he found Ms. Marble’s Oldsmobile parked out front. Since he couldn’t see her sitting in the car and he was pretty sure he’d locked the front door, he worried that she’d passed out in the front seat from the heat. But she wasn’t in the car. He searched around the house, and then hurried up the porch steps. He’d been wrong. The front door was unlocked.

Once inside, he noticed three things: The cool air. The delicious scent wafting from the kitchen. And the mangy cat curled up right in the center of the rug in the living room. It opened one green eye and stared at him for a moment before closing it and going back to sleep.

Mason walked into the kitchen where he found the little old woman puttering around like the last time she’d been there. And like before, the sight made him feel strangely content.

“Well, there you are,” she said when she saw him. She walked over and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I thought you’d gone back to Austin and left me on my own. I hope you don’t mind me making myself at home. I was afraid if I left my oatmeal chocolate chip cookies on the porch, the chocolate would be nothing but a gooey mess by the time you got back.”

She moved to the table and unwrapped the plate of cookies. “I knew you loved chocolate by the way you gobbled up my brownies, but the oatmeal will keep you regular.” She sent him a stern look. “I’m convinced that’s one of the reasons you never smile. Constipation is not a laughing matter.”

Mason laughed. The woman was a character. “Thank you for caring about my digestive system.”

“Everyone needs someone to care about them. And seeing as how you don’t have any family to watch out for you, it falls to your friends.” She poured some sweet tea into the glasses on the table. “Speaking of which, I’m glad to see you’ve made friends with Dirk. When I got here, I found him inside testing the air conditioner.”

Obviously, the people of Bliss didn’t have a problem walking into houses uninvited. “It feels like it works pretty good.”

She smiled. “That boy is handy. Now come sit down and have some tea.” She pulled a stack of legal-sized paper out of the tote bag hooked on the back of the kitchen chair. “And while we’re at it, you can look over my will before I keel over.”

Mason took off his cowboy hat and tossed it onto the counter before taking the chair next to hers. “I think you’ve got a few good years left in you.”

Her blue eyes twinkled. “Maybe just a few.”

After he finished going over Ms. Marble’s will and correcting any problems he saw, he walked her to the door. She smiled at the cat that was now stretched out on the rug like a fur blanket with paws. She squeezed his arm. “Only a sensitive man with a heart of gold can understand a feline.”

Mason didn’t have a heart of gold. Once Ms. Marble was gone, he turned to the cat. “Enjoy your nap, Furball. When I finish lunch, you’re out on your ass.”

But while he was eating, Furball came into the kitchen and sat by his feet. It was hard to ignore the pleading look in the green eyes. He ended up giving the cat half the ham from his sandwich. When he went to the bedroom to pack, Furball followed him and jumped up on the bed.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Mason grabbed the cat and then wrinkled his nose. “Damn, you smell worse than Rich Myer’s trailer.” He should’ve tossed the stinky thing outside. Instead, he carried the cat to the bathroom.

He learned a couple things about cats while giving Furball a bath: Cats don’t like water. And they have extremely sharp claws. By the time the stink was off the mangy animal, Mason had numerous scratches on his arms. As soon as he toweled the cat off and set it on the floor, Furball streaked under the bed and stayed there while Mason finished packing.

He packed light. He didn’t plan on staying at the Earhart Ranch during the day. He figured Rich wasn’t brave enough to bother Becky with a bunch of ranch hands around. And maybe he wasn’t brave enough to bother her at all. Maybe he was the type of guy who was only brave with helpless animals. But Mason wasn’t willing to take the chance.

He was almost finished packing when he dropped a balled-up pair of boot socks on the floor. The cat finally came out from under the bed to attack the rolling socks. It was hard not to laugh at the pouncing and batting that ensued. The ball of socks ended up in the corner. Furball pounced on them and the loose board popped up and smacked him in the butt, causing the cat to yowl and streak from the room.

Mason was still laughing when he walked over to retrieve his socks. The loose board reminded him that he needed to put the diary back in the floor. Or maybe he should just give it to Becky. He tossed his socks in the suitcase, then reached under the pillow.

The diary was gone.