The High Country Rancher. Jan Hambright

life. Hell, he was happy for her. She was a beautiful woman. He gritted his teeth and climbed out of the pickup, meeting her on the sidewalk before opening the gate and following her up the walk.

      She stopped, fished in her pocket and pulled out a house key. “Come in for a drink before you head back.”

      His first response was to pass, but he didn’t; instead, he followed her inside and watched as she shuffled into the kitchen. “Is sun tea okay?”

      “Yeah.” Baylor gazed around the living room. The place was neat and appointed with cushy furniture. Her scent tinged the air, a mix of sweet and spicy. His gaze held on a piece of landscape artwork on the wall behind her beige sofa. Moving closer, he focused on the artist’s signature in the bottom right corner. Mariah Ellis.

      “This is your work,” he said as she came into the living room with a glass of iced tea in each hand.

      “Recognize the setting?” She smiled and he realized how relaxed she looked for the first time since he’d met her.

      “The Seven Devils Mountain Range…from the Pappoose Creek side.”

      “Very good.” She handed him the cold glass. “Do you want to see more?”

      There was a note of excitement in her voice. Her eyes took on a sparkle he hadn’t noticed before. This was Mariah Ellis’s passion. This was what made her tick. Her art.

      Moving down the hall, she showed him paintings of Mirror Lake, the Salmon River Canyon and a moose standing knee-deep in a pond at dawn feeding on moss.

      “You should open a gallery. Your work is very good.”

      She warmed under his praise and his breath caught in his lungs. There was something innocent about her, something as unspoiled as her art, and he wanted to kiss her in the worst way, but he reined in the urge. He’d probably get the other side of his jaw popped. Didn’t she already think he’d stepped over the line when he rewarmed her? How would she explain a kiss to her boyfriend? Frozen lips?

      He took a deep gulp from his glass and turned toward the living room and escape. He’d fulfilled his obligation. She was home safe.

      “Thanks for the drink.” He handed the glass to her at the door and glanced down at an open book lying on a small table.

      His heart jumped in his chest. He reached out and picked up the high-school yearbook.

      Staring up at him from the page was a picture of Mariah and Amy. Arms locked, leaning against a set of lockers. The caption read, “Friends Forever.”

      His gut squeezed. He looked at Mariah. “You knew my wife, Amy?”

      “We were best friends our sophomore year of high school.”

      A wave of caution raced through him, leaving him cold inside where he’d been warm only moments ago.

      This was personal. Her suspicions about his involvement in Endicott’s disappearance were fueled by her certainty about his guilt in Amy’s death. There would never be an end to it. He’d done everything he could to save her life that night, short of drowning himself.

      He closed the book and put it down. “I’ve got a long drive back to the ranch.” He turned the doorknob and pulled the door open.

      “Baylor.”

      He paused without turning around.

      “For what it’s worth, thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” He didn’t look back, just stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.

      He’d see her again. He knew it. Come Monday morning she’d have her cop face on, and he’d have to prove himself all over again.