After taking a deep breath, she slowly pulled her arm away from his grip. “I only want to close his eyes. Give him some dignity,” she argued.
“We can’t disturb the scene any more than we already have. This man is dead. We need to back up and wait for the authorities.”
Dylan’s words buzzed inside her head. Two phrases hung in the air, as if a spotlight was on them. Disturb the scene. Wait for the authorities. Then she remembered the way he’d initially ordered her and Peter to go inside the house and lock the doors after them. As if he’d wanted to make sure whatever had hurt Josiah couldn’t hurt them.
Aaron had been beastly over the past month, demanding rights to the water he’d found on her land. Even before that, he’d always been a bit of a jerk, which was why she’d initially wondered if Aaron had been causing Josiah trouble.
But she hadn’t been thinking murder. Now, based on the position of Josiah’s body next to the rock, the most logical assumption would be Josiah had fallen and hit his head.
Clearly this man suspected foul play.
Why?
Dylan held out a hand and after a slight hesitation, she took it. He tugged her upward and she came to standing, facing him.
“Why can’t I touch him?” she asked hoarsely. “What do you mean, ‘disturb the scene’?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he soothed. “It looks like he fell, but it’s always possible something else happened to him.”
“Like what?”
His fingers tightened around hers right before he ran his hands up and down her arms in a comforting motion. Her first instinct was to push him away and tell him she needed answers, not sympathy. But that would be a lie.
She suddenly felt on the verge of collapse. Wanted nothing more than to rest her cheek against his chest and beg him to hold her. Comfort her.
He sighed and lifted one hand to run his knuckles against her cheek. “There are always those who want to hurt others, Rachel. There’s always a possibility that there’s danger where we think we’re the safest. But I’m here. And I’ll help you. You just need to let me.”
“I don’t understand,” Rachel said even as she pulled away from him. Fear had made her large eyes grow rounder, and Dylan barely suppressed a curse. Scaring her was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn’t dismiss the possibility that her brother had killed this man. For all he knew, Kincaid was still on the property somewhere, a threat to them all.
And yet for all Rachel knew, Dylan was the threat. He needed to extinguish the fear in Rachel’s eyes. Sometimes only the truth could do that.
“I told you my name is Dylan Rooney, ma’am. What I didn’t tell you is I’m a U.S. Marshal and I’m here on important business.”
Rachel backed farther away from him, her bare feet sinking even deeper in the mud that his boots protected him from. She winced, and once again he held out a hand to provide stability. This time she ignored it, staring at him warily.
“Business that has something to do with what’s happened to Josiah?”
“Could be. I’m not certain.”
“But you think he’s been murdered.”
“That remains to be seen,” Dylan said. She shifted, then winced again, reminding Dylan she’d run out of the house barefoot. She had to be in pain. “Here, let’s get you back up on the horse while we wait for help. No sense in you continuing to beat up your feet if you don’t have to.”
He moved toward her, but she held out her hand. “Stop. You think I’m going to just take your word you’re a cop? That you have any legitimate business being here?”
“I can show you my credentials. Will that help?”
She frowned, then nodded. Slowly, he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He held it out and she took it. As soon as she flipped it open, she saw his badge and official ID. Her shoulders seemed to relax somewhat and she held the wallet back out to him. When he’d pocketed it, she turned and started walking toward Ginger, limping the whole time.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let me help you, ma’am. Please.”
She looked up at him, silent and looking a little lost, obviously numb from the shock of finding her ranch hand dead. She didn’t protest when he scooped her up in his arms and walked her the few yards back to Ginger, who was calmly grazing on green grass. Tall as Rachel was, she didn’t weigh much, but she did remain stiff in his arms while he raised her up onto Ginger’s back. Apparently dead bodies had no spook value the way tumbleweeds, bees and the occasional butterfly did, because the horse stood still.
When he settled Rachel onto Ginger’s back, she slumped in the saddle, as if all the strength had seeped out of her bones. “You were spying on us. Josiah? Or me?” she asked, her voice hollow, as if she’d forced the words out using what little energy she had left.
That was an answer he didn’t want to give just yet. Not until after Josiah was dealt with and he knew he’d have some uninterrupted alone time to explain everything to Rachel.
The sounds of sirens in the distance gave him an out. “Will Peter be able to lead the EMTs here?” he asked.
Rachel nodded, then sat up straight, agitation showing in her blanched face. “But I don’t want him to see—”
“I won’t let him near the spring. I’ll make sure he stays back, okay?”
A faint smile of gratitude curved the corners of her lips upward. Dylan realized that was the first time he’d seen even the hint of a smile on the woman’s face.
Rachel Kincaid was beautiful, but when she smiled it made him long for the rest of the world to disappear so he could spend hours simply staring at her.
“Thanks for that,” she murmured. “He’s just a kid. Seeing death at a young age can be so harmful. So destructive.”
Yeah, he knew.
In less than a minute, they heard the voices of the EMTs and he left Rachel to clamber up the gulley, intent on holding Peter back from going to his mom. From seeing Josiah’s body again.
But Peter wasn’t with the EMTs, who said they’d instructed the kid to go back to the house after he’d brought them close enough so they could find their own way to the spring. Silently, Dylan cursed. Now that he’d confirmed Josiah was dead, he was regretting letting the boy go off on his own. He wanted him near. To ensure his safety, yes, but also to settle Rachel’s worry about him.
Dylan showed the EMTs his badge. They confirmed Josiah Pemberly was deceased and made the appropriate calls to the police. Within a few minutes, a deputy from the sheriff’s department showed up. Dylan and the other man, whom Dylan had met days earlier, exchanged tense looks.
Deputy Mark Todd was one of the three sheriff’s deputies Dylan and his team had contacted when they first arrived in town. He knew who Dylan was and why he was here. Thank God he also knew better than to say anything in front of Rachel.
By the time a half hour had crept up and passed them, the deputy had agreed to make sure the body made its way to the medical examiner. He’d also agreed to call in another deputy so they could do a thorough search of the property together.
Dylan walked Ginger back to the house, an emotionally drained Rachel still perched on her back. He’d get her into the shower, bandage up her feet if need be and check in on the kid. Then he planned to see if Rachel