Rylan knelt on the damp porch, an unconscious Jaci gathered in his arms. He was acutely aware of just how fragile she felt as he snuggled her against his chest. Strange. When she was awake she was so lush and vivid and full of life that she seemed invincible.

Now . . .

A mixture of fear and fury thundered through him.

Who was depraved enough to leave the locket on the door? It had to be someone with enough balls to waltz up to her house in broad daylight. Or at least he assumed it hadn’t been there when she’d left for her morning deliveries.

And what did it mean? There was no doubt it was some sort of a threat. But what? Was it just a way to terrorize the young woman?

Or was it something more evil?

And the million-dollar question: did the locket have any connection to the dead woman found floating in the field?

The questions whirled through his mind, and it wasn’t until the porch creaked that he realized his father was moving toward the screen door.

“No,” he said, his sharp tone bringing his father to an immediate stop. “Don’t touch it.”

Elmer pointed a gnarled finger toward the locket. “I don’t want that filthy thing hanging here when Jaci wakes up.”

“I know, but the sheriff needs to see it.”

His father scowled, but he eventually gave a sharp nod. “I’ll call once we get her inside. You carry her.”

Rylan straightened, careful not to jostle Jaci. “We’ll go around the back,” he said.

He didn’t know if the sheriff would actually treat the porch like a crime scene, considering no actual laws had been broken, but he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining any evidence that might lead to the culprit.

Letting his father take the lead, he headed off the porch and circled to the back of the house. Holding Jaci tight in his arms, he carefully surveyed their soggy surroundings.

He assumed that whoever had left the locket had taken off, but there was no guarantee. He wasn’t going to let himself be caught off guard.

He absently noticed that the garage had been expanded since his last visit. And that there was a new greenhouse at the back of the yard. The barn looked the same, although he could hear the sound of two very angry dogs barking from inside.

They were new.

Convinced there were no mystery lurkers in the shadows, he continued along the mossy pathway.

“Do you have a spare key?” he asked his father as they climbed the narrow stairs that groaned beneath their weight.

Elmer snorted as he glanced over his shoulder. “You’ve been gone too long.”

“Why?”

“You’ve forgotten that no one around here locks their house.”

Proving his point, his father reached to pull on the knob.

“Are you kidding?” Rylan snapped as the door easily swung open. When he’d lived in the area he’d never thought about whether or not people had sturdy locks. Now he felt a stab of annoyance at the knowledge that Jaci had allowed herself to be in such a vulnerable position. “She’s a woman living on her own in the middle of nowhere.”

“I doubt her grandparents ever locked the house,” Elmer said, nodding toward the distant barn. “Besides, she has a couple of big dogs that are better than any fancy alarm system.”

“Really? They’re great help locked in the barn,” Rylan said as they entered the narrow mudroom.

They both managed to kick off their splattered boots before moving into the kitchen, which smelled like heaven.

Loaves of bread and freshly baked muffins and golden tarts were sitting on the butcher-block counters. There were fresh herbs growing in pots on the windowsill over the old farm sink. And on the small table in the center of the linoleum floor were bowls filled with peaches and apples and lush blueberries.

Any other time Rylan would have melted at the tantalizing smells. Today, he wasn’t in the mood.

Elmer pointed toward the doorway that led to a short hall.

“Let’s take her to the living room.”

Following his father into the front of the house, he entered a small space that had been made cozy with an overstuffed sofa and two armchairs that were arranged around the brick fireplace. There was a glass cabinet filled with the trinkets Jaci’s grandmother had accumulated during their rare travels away from home.

A stuffed pig from the Iowa State Fair. A tiny replica of the Liberty Bell. A snow globe from Chicago. Hand-painted thimbles. And of course, the obligatory collection of Hummel figurines.

Exactly what a person would expect in a farmhouse.

The only thing that didn’t fit were the large black-and-white photos on the walls that were framed with rough planks of wood. One was a rain-blurred picture of an abandoned warehouse overgrown with ivy. Another was a ghost town surrounded by a desolate, barren landscape.

“Just put her on the couch,” Elmer commanded, hovering with concern as Rylan gently lowered her onto the deep cushions. “Poor thing.”

Keeping his gaze trained on Jaci’s too pale face, Rylan straightened and nodded toward the nearby telephone. In the more remote areas it was almost impossible to get a clear cell connection. Landlines were still a necessary household item.

“Call the sheriff,” he ordered, reaching to tug off her boots. Then, too restless to wait for the authorities, he retraced his steps. “Stay in here with Jaci.”

“Where are you going?” his father asked.

“To have a look around.”

Moving back through the kitchen, he placed Jaci’s boots in the mudroom and pulled on his own before he was out the back door.

He took time to glance in the windows of the barn. The dogs released furious growls as soon as he stepped out of the house, warning him to wait until Jaci could convince the animals he wasn’t an enemy before he released them.

The angry response to his approach, however, proved that an unknown intruder couldn’t be hiding inside.

He moved to the garage, surprised to find that it’d been converted into a large workroom with towering shelves loaded with various boxes of supplies that were clearly marked. In the center of the room she had a few small tools, including a circular saw and a sewing machine.

A woman of many talents.

Stepping out of the garage, he walked to study the driveway. At one time it’d been graveled, but the mud combined with the ruts from the tractor had turned it into a messy bog. Which meant he couldn’t determine what sort of vehicle the intruder had been driving when he—or she—had delivered the locket.

He rounded the house, walking up to the front porch. There were muddy prints where the three of them had climbed the steps. But it was too much to hope that the rain hadn’t washed away any earlier ones.

Crossing the wooden planks, he leaned forward, studying the small locket that dangled from the doorknob.

It had a dull sheen in the gray light, revealing it wasn’t real gold. The locket itself was plain, with a tiny clasp on the side. There was nothing to distinguish it. In fact, he’d guess that it was one of those cheap necklaces you could mass order.

Which meant it would be almost impossible to trace who’d bought it.

Still, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and took several pictures, careful not to disturb the necklace. He had a few connections among the feds. Some of them high enough up the food chain to get him whatever information he needed.

Sending off the images to his contacts, he pocketed his phone and turned to leave the porch.

Ducking his head as the rain drizzled down his face, he hurried around the house and entered through the back door. He kicked off his boots before he was walking through the kitchen and back to the living room.

He found his father still standing at the edge of the sofa, keeping guard over the unconscious woman.

“Did you get ahold of the sheriff?” he asked.

Elmer nodded. “He’s on his way.”

There was a soft moan as Jaci began to stir.

“I’ll make some hot coffee,” the older man said. Clearly he had the same need as Rylan to feel as if he was doing something to help.

“Put in plenty of sugar,” Rylan called after the older man, moving to perch on the edge of the sofa.

Jaci’s lashes fluttered upward, revealing her blue-gray eyes that looked almost silver in the dim light. Her brows drew together as she caught sight of him looming over her.

“Rylan?”

“It’s me,” he assured her.

Some indefinable emotion rippled over her face before her expression hardened.

“I knew this was a nightmare,” she said, shoving herself into a seated position.

With a grimace she swayed, nearly tumbling face-first off the couch before she managed to regain her equilibrium.

A wry smile twisted Rylan’s lips. Over the years he’d become accustomed to women who were eager to please him. No doubt it was good for his ego to have it bashed on occasion.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “Like an idiot.”

“Why? You had a shock.”

“Yeah.” She shuddered, her gaze darting toward the front door. “Where’s the locket?”

“We left it where it was,” he said. “I’m hoping the sheriff will have it examined.”

Her eyes widened, as if he’d just said he’d set the house on fire.

“The sheriff?”

“Dad already called.”

“Why?”

He studied her pale face. “If they run it through the system, they might be able to get fingerprints or DNA off it,” he said. “Something that will tell us who left the locket here.”

Her jaw tightened. “I remember bringing you lockets before,” she pointed out in dark tones. “You told me I was being silly.”

Guilt sliced through Rylan. He’d started working in the sheriff’s office when he was just sixteen. At first he was a glorified janitor, cleaning the jail and washing the vehicles. But when he’d started attending the nearby college to get his degree in criminal justice, he’d taken on more duties and eventually become a part-time deputy.

That was when Jaci had first started showing up at the office with the lockets. And when he’d turned her away with a lecture that she shouldn’t be wasting his time.

“I was young and arrogant.”

Her sharp, painful laugh only intensified his sense of regret. “You thought I bought the lockets and put the hair and bloody ribbon in them to get your attention.”

He was instantly on the defense. “You did have a crush on me.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “I was a hormonal sixteen-year-old girl, Rylan. I had a crush on Justin Timberlake, Orlando Bloom, and my English teacher,” she snapped. “I didn’t send them any bloody lockets.”

He released a heavy sigh. She was right to chastise him. He’d been an ass all those years ago. At the time he’d told himself he was doing what was best for her. After all, she’d been following him around for years, her big eyes begging for some hint of affection. He needed to make sure that she forgot him and found some nice farm boy.

Looking back, he realized that his reaction to Jaci Patterson was far more complicated than he’d ever suspected.

“I’m sorry, Jaci,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “At the time it seemed impossible to believe there could be a crazed stalker in Heron.”

“And now?” she demanded, knocking his hand away.

Rylan felt a strange twist in his gut at her rejection.

“Now I’m not nearly so young,” he admitted.

“What about arrogant?”

“That’s never going to change.” He spoke the words they were both thinking. “But I’ve learned to think past my ego.”

She rolled her eyes. “Shocking.”

He leaned back in the cushions. The smell of brewing coffee filled the air, emphasizing the coziness of the room. It made the thought of someone creeping onto the porch to leave behind some sicko gift all the more awful.

“Jaci, I know you weren’t lying about those lockets.”

“Because a new one showed up?” she scoffed. “How can you be sure I didn’t stage all this for your benefit?”

He shook his head. “You might be stubborn. And overly independent. And eager to speak your mind, even if it pisses people off. But you’re honest to a fault.”

“Thanks.” She sent him a wary frown. “I think.”

“If you wanted to capture my attention you might have shown up in my bedroom naked.”

Her mouth fell open. “Hey.”

“But you wouldn’t have pretended to be in danger,” he continued.

“No.” She shivered. Whether from the memory of the person who’d left her the lockets years ago, or the thought that the mystery stalker might be back, he didn’t know.

Probably both.

Clearly she was in need of a distraction.

He deliberately allowed his gaze to drift down to the inviting curve of her lips.

“And just for the record, if you decide to show up in my bedroom naked now, I wouldn’t say no,” he assured her in throaty tones.

A charming blush stained her cheeks. “In your dreams.”

“Probably,” he agreed, his tone teasing. Inside, however, he acknowledged that she was most definitely going to play a starring role in his dreams.

Her lips parted, but before she could speak, the sound of a car door being slammed shut echoed through the air, quickly followed by the distant sound of barking. Her blush instantly faded.

“Someone’s here.”

Rylan was on his feet, swiftly crossing to glance out the front window.

“Those dogs aren’t doing you any good locked in the barn,” he said.

“They were muddy after I let them out this morning and I didn’t have time to wash them before I had to take off for my deliveries.”

“It’s the sheriff,” he said, watching as Mike O’Brien climbed out of a pickup he’d parked in the road, and headed across the yard toward the front porch. Rylan turned from the window. “I want to have a word with him.”

Jaci started to rise to her feet. “I—”

“You sit back down, missy,” Elmer commanded as he returned to the living room with a tray clutched in his hands. “You’re not to get off that couch until you’ve had a hot cup of coffee and a muffin.”

Rylan sent her a smirk. “You heard the boss.”

“I need to speak to Mike.”

“I’m sure he’ll come in whenever he’s had a chance to look around,” he assured her, moving to lay a hand on her shoulder so he could gently press her back onto the sofa. “Just relax.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, but surprisingly she settled in the cushions and allowed Elmer to place the tray on her lap.

Was she still in shock?

The thought spurred Rylan to once again head out the back door so he could round the house. By the time he was climbing the steps onto the porch, the sheriff was carefully sliding the locket into a small evidence bag.

Mike swiveled his head to watch as Rylan moved to stand near the front door, his expression impossible to read.

The two had worked together at the sheriff’s office, but they hadn’t been particularly close. Mike was a year younger than Rylan and there’d been an unspoken competition that had extended beyond the sheriff’s office to sports, girls, and even who had the fastest car.

Did that explain the sizzle of aggression he sensed in the air? Or was it new?

Rylan stiffened. Was it territorial? Did he have a thing for Jaci?

The thought was oddly annoying.

Mike gave a dip of his head. “Cooper.”

Rylan returned the nod. “O’Brien.”

Mike’s gaze shifted to the front window, his expression tightening as he caught sight of Jaci perched on the couch with Rylan’s father fussing around her.

“How is she?”

“Spooked,” Rylan said in clipped tones, pointing toward the evidence bag in Mike’s hand that contained the locket. “Did you open it?”

“No.” He tucked the bag inside his black Windbreaker, which had the sheriff patches sewn on the sleeves. “I’m sending it off to the forensics department in Jefferson City. I don’t want to lose any potential evidence.”

Rylan arched a brow. He’d expected a fight to get the man to spend money on having the locket inspected by experts.

“So you’re taking this as a serious threat?”

Mike’s square jaw tightened. “Today has been filled with nothing but trouble. I think it’s best that I take everything as a serious threat.”

“Good.”

Mike finally turned away from the window, the aggression still thick in the air.

“Why are you here?”

Rylan met the fierce gaze with a bland smile. “Dad was worried about Jaci when he heard there was a body floating in the neighbor’s field.”

Without warning, Mike grimaced. “Yeah, I wish I’d been more worried.”

“More worried about the body?”

“No. Jaci. She came to see me this morning. I was literally up to my ass in mud and I”—he gave a sharp shake of his head—“I told her not to bring up the past. I should have taken her concern more seriously.”

“A lot of us can make that claim,” Rylan said, regret clenching his heart.

It was bad enough to think that Jaci had truly been terrorized when she was young and vulnerable without adding in the knowledge he, and a lot of other people, had branded her a liar. It was a wonder she hadn’t slapped his face the minute she’d caught sight of him.

His dark thoughts were interrupted as a car pulled up behind the pickup at the edge of the road.

“Who’s that?” Rylan asked.

Mike nodded toward the two uniformed men who were crawling out of the car and heading in their direction.

“They’re my deputies,” he said, watching as the men approached. “I asked Ed out here to take pictures of any tracks, and Sid will check for DNA and prints on the doorknob.”

“Not a bad thought,” Rylan said as he glanced toward the drive. “But I’m not sure you’ll have any luck with tracks. Most of them have been destroyed.”

Moving to the edge of the porch, Mike glared at the ruts with a deep scowl. Clearly he hadn’t noticed the destruction when he’d walked up to the house.

“Crap.” Grabbing the railing, he leaned over to study the tracks that led past the house. “It looks like Andrew is out checking the fields. Probably destroyed any usable tire imprints.”

“Convenient.”

Mike turned to meet Rylan’s suspicious expression. The lawman gave a slow nod.

They might never be friends, but they had an unspoken commitment to discover if Jaci was truly in danger. And to stop the bastard who was determined to frighten her.

“I’m going to have a word with Ed, then I’ll come in to talk to Jaci,” he said. “Don’t use the front door until Sid is done.”

Rylan nodded, heading toward the steps. He halted as he caught sight of a blue sedan creeping past the house. He assumed that he was a nosy neighbor who was trying to see what was happening. But as soon as the sheriff turned, whoever was driving the car gunned the engine to speed down the muddy road. Almost as if the driver was wary of being seen.

“Who was that?” Rylan demanded.

Mike frowned, his hand reaching to touch the handgun that was holstered at his side.

“It looked like Jaci’s half brother, Christopher Hamilton.”