B.J. Daniels the Cardwell Ranch Collection by B. J. Daniels

tick of the mantel clock over the fireplace. After locking the front door, she crept back into the kitchen to the window again.
    No light. Had she only imagined it? And now Hud was on his way over—
    There it was. A faint golden flicker through the falling snow. The light disappeared again and she realized that the person must have stepped behind the old chimney.
    She stared, waiting for the light to reappear and feeling foolish even with her pulse still hammering in her ears. If she hadn’t been on the phone with Hud when she’d seen the light, she wouldn’t have called for help.
    She’d had trespasserson the ranch before. Usually they just moved along with a warning. A few needed to see the shotgun she kept by the door.
    Obviously this was just some morbid person who’d heard about the body in the well and had sneaked in the back way to the ranch hoping to find…what? A souvenir?
    She really wished she hadn’t told Hud about the light. She could handle this herself. The light appeared again. The person moved back and forth, flashing the light around. Didn’t the fool realize he could be seen from the house?
    A thought struck her. What if it was a member of her family? She could just imagine her father or uncle up there looking around. Hud wasn’t one to shoot first and ask questions later, but if he startled whoever was up there—Even if he didn’t kill them, he’d at least think them guilty of something.
    Or…what if it was the killer returning to the scene of the crime? What if he was looking for evidence he believed the marshal hadn’t found?
    The thought sent a chill running up her spine. She stepped away from the window and moved carefully to the front door again in the darkness. The roads were icy; she didn’t know how long it would take Hud to get here.
    She found the shotgun by the door, then moved to the locked cabinet, found the hidden key and opened the drawer to take out four shells. Cracking the double-barreled shotgun open, she slipped two shells in and snapped it closed again, clicking on the safety. Pocketing the other two shells, she returned to the kitchen.
    No light again. Shewaited, thinking whoever it was had gone behind the chimney again. Or left. Or…
    Her heart began to pound. Had he seen the lights go out in the ranch house and realized he’d been spotted? He could be headed for the house right now.
    She’d never been afraid on the ranch. But then, she hadn’t known there was a murdered woman’s remains in the well.
    The shotgun felt heavy in her hands as she started to move toward the back door, realizing too late that she’d failed to lock it. She heard the creak of a footfall on the back porch steps. Another creak. The knob on the back door started to turn.
    She raised the shotgun.
    “Dana?”
    The shotgun sagged in her arms as the back door opened and she saw Hud’s familiar outline in the doorway.
    He froze at the sight of the shotgun.
    “I didn’t hear you drive up,” she whispered, even though there wasn’t any need to.
    “I walked the last way so your visitor wouldn’t hear my vehicle coming and run. When I didn’t see any lights on, I circled the house and found the back door unlocked…” His voice broke as he stepped to her and she saw how afraid he’d been for her.
    He took the shotgun from her and set it aside before cupping her shoulders in his large palms. She could feel his heat even through the thick gloves he wore and smell his scent mixed with the cold night air. It felt so natural, she almost stepped into his arms.
    Instead he droppedhis hands, leaving her aching for the feel of him against her, yearning for his warmth, his strength, even for the few seconds she would have allowed herself to enjoy it before she pushed him away.
    She stepped past him to the window and stared up the hillside. There was only falling snow and darkness now. “I don’t see the light now.”
    “I want you to stay here,” Hud said. “Lock the door behind