It was better that he’d come home. He’d agreed to show Amy where he’d found Sheridan, and he’d volunteered to take the hounds out to see if they could pick up the scent of her attacker.

Koda, Maximillian and Quixote were waiting for him at the gate of their pen when he got out of his truck. They whined as he strode toward them: they didn’t like being left behind, but they were fine. If he’d ended up staying away much longer, he would’ve called Levi or Vivian Matherly, his closest neighbors, and asked one of them to stop by. But it hadn’t been necessary today.

Predictably, the hounds’ unhappiness evaporated the second he lifted the latch. Then their tails began to wag and all was forgiven.

“Let’s get you fed.” He set about filling their dishes. Quixote and Maximillian immediately went to their bowls and got down to the business of eating. Koda took advantage of their preoccupation to nuzzle up to Cain.

“What’re you doing over here, huh?” Cain asked his favorite dog, crouching to rub the dog’s ears. “I know you’re as hungry as they are.”

Koda barked in response and Cain chuckled. Sometimes he was sure this particular dog could read his mind. “You’re the best of the bunch,” he said as Koda’s warm tongue caressed his hand.

The sound of a motor and the crunch of tires on gravel announced Amy’s arrival. She was early. Cain hadn’t had time to shower or shave, and his eyes burned with fatigue, but he stood up and faced her as she parked.

“You’re back,” she called as she opened her door. “Looks like my timing is good.”

Cain made himself acknowledge her with a nod, but he suspected she’d actually been hoping to arrive before he did so she’d have a chance to snoop around. Since the miscarriage and their subsequent divorce, she was always watching him for fear he’d hook up with someone else.

Maybe if he had a love interest, Amy would give up and move on. But it was three years since the woman he’d been dating on and off had moved to Nashville to pursue a country music career, and he hadn’t been with anyone since. The longer he remained single, the more Amy managed to “bump” into him.

Realizing he’d been upstaged, Koda barked once and trotted over to his dish, where he began to wolf down his food—apparently trying to catch up with the others.

“Take it easy, it’s not going anywhere,” Cain admonished.

All the hounds brought their muzzles up and pricked their ears, watching him for the direction they received from his body language as much as his verbal commands. Cain nodded for them to finish, and this time Koda ate a little more slowly.

“It’s amazing how well they obey you.” Amy was wearing her police uniform. Her badge identified her as Officer Granger, but that name didn’t seem any more natural than her recently enhanced curves. Eleven years ago, an unexpected pregnancy had forced Cain into proposing to Amy. Their marriage had lasted only three months, but because he’d never loved her, those three months had been hell. Why hadn’t she reverted to her maiden name?

“That’s what they’re trained to do,” he said.

“No amount of training would make them obey me like that. You have a way with animals.” She smiled bitterly. “And women.”

“Amy—”

She scowled at the warning in his voice. “No need to say anything. This is business. I know.”

He hoped she’d keep that in mind. But years of experience told him that their encounter would slide into the personal at some point. It always did.

“Let me put on a clean shirt and brush my teeth, and I’ll be right out,” he said.

Her eyes followed him as he walked to the house. He didn’t need to look back to know that; he could feel her attention. If she was around, he could always feel her attention. “Why’d she have to join the police force?” he grumbled once he was inside.

The blood in the bathroom sink and on his shirt served as an unnecessary reminder of last night’s horrific events. It was a miracle his dogs had been able to rouse him—and that whoever had beaten Sheridan hadn’t finished her off.

She could still die….

That thought caused a ripple of anxiety as he washed his face and hands and brushed his teeth. He was just stripping off his T-shirt while walking to his bedroom when he heard Amy address him from the end of the hall.

“Is there anything I can do to help you get the dogs ready?”

Cain turned in surprise and couldn’t miss the way her gaze moved hungrily over his bare chest. Shit…“No,” he said. Then he went into his bedroom and pointedly closed the door. With his luck, she’d come in and offer to help him change his boxers, too….

She was on her knees, examining some blood on the carpet when he came out.

“You brought her in the house?” she asked, glancing up.

His stepbrother’s words seemed oddly prophetic given this question from Amy, but he shrugged off the sudden foreboding. He’d done what he had to do, what anyone would’ve done in the same situation. “For a few minutes.”

“Wasn’t it obvious that she needed to be driven to a hospital?”

“It was obvious she might not make it that far and that I had to call for an airlift.” He stared her down, refusing to show any doubt about his actions. Amy hated him every bit as much as she loved him, and she could switch from one emotion to the other in a second. If she was going to fault him for his actions, he wanted her to know she’d have a fight on her hands. It was better to discourage her from the beginning, before her twin brother could get involved.

Fortunately, taking the offensive seemed to work. She frowned at the blood and stood up. “All set?”

He was hungry. Once he’d decided to return and do some tracking, he hadn’t bothered to stop and eat. The coffee he’d bought at the hospital was chewing a hole in his stomach, but he didn’t want to spend an extra second in Amy’s company. Even the sound of her voice changed to a higher pitch when she was with him. Every word raised the hair on the back of his neck.

“Let’s go,” he said. He could eat later.

“It’s gone.” Cain searched through the undergrowth near the half-dug grave.

Amy was busy taking pictures of where Sheridan had been lying. He could see broken limbs, matted leaves and blood. “What’s gone?” she asked.

“The shovel.”

Letting the camera drop around her neck, she walked over. “Where was it?”




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