“Sorry to hear that. Can you describe the perp?”
She shook her head. “No, he was wearing all black and a black ski mask.”
“Not much I can do to help without a detailed description.”
She tipped her head to the side. “Then why did you come out?”
“Ms. Langsdon, as the only living relative of the late Kyle Kendrick, you have been served.” The sheriff handed her a thick envelope, his face poker-straight.
“What?” She took the packet, her cheeks blanching, making the bruise stand out even more.
“What’s this all about?” Ben slipped an arm around Kate as she opened the envelope, every protective instinct on alert in the face of the sheriff and his deputy.
“Back taxes? The will said nothing about back taxes.” She looked up at the sheriff.
“Sorry, Ms. Langsdon, I only deliver the bad news, I don’t create it. Your father was the one who didn’t pay. Since he left the ranch to you, you’re responsible now.”
Ben didn’t like the sheriff’s tone or the way the man hit her with the notice so soon after coming to her father’s ranch.
“Twenty-seven thousand?” She snorted softly. “I can’t afford twenty-seven hundred.” Kate stared at the paper in her hands. “That would completely wipe me out and then some.”
The sheriff shrugged. “You might consider selling this dump. Pretty young woman like you will find it difficult to manage a place this size all alone.”
It was all Ben could do to keep from punching the sheriff for his patronizing words. Ben barely knew Kate, but any woman would resent the sheriff’s inference that a woman couldn’t run a ranch.
“I’m not alone.” Kate clutched the envelope to her chest, her chin rising. “I have Ben.” She edged nearer to Ben.
His chest swelled, his arm automatically tightening around her middle, pulling her closer to him.
The sheriff’s brows rose. “Hired hands don’t always stick around.”
“He’s not the hired hand. He’s…” Kate’s hand waved, in search of the right word.
Afraid she’d say he was her bodyguard, Ben finished for her, “I’m her fiancé. We will be working the ranch together.”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say your last name was?”
Ben’s lips twisted. “I didn’t. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He moved to shut the door.
The sheriff shoved his foot in the way. “Don’t cross me, cowboy.”
Ben’s brows rose and he stared down at the boot in the doorway. “Did you have more business to discuss?”
The sheriff stared at Ben for a long moment, then replied, “No.”
“Then have a nice day.” Ben glanced down at the boot and back up at the sheriff. Ben’s free hand clenched into a fist, ready to take on the arrogant sheriff if the need arose. He’d seen law enforcement officers who let the power of their position go to their heads. This sheriff appeared to be one of them. He made a mental note to watch the man. He could cause trouble for himself and for Kate.
The sheriff finally moved his foot. “I’ll be seeing you around Wild Oak Canyon.”
Ben shut the door, muttering, “Not if I can help it.”
Kate turned away, her gaze on the legal document the sheriff had given her. “Twenty-seven thousand dollars.” She looked up at Ben, her eyes glazed. “That’s more than I have in every savings account.”
“Surely you have a thirty-day notice on it.”
“Thirty days until they seize the property for back taxes owed.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe this. I should never have come.”
“Can’t you go back where you came from?” As he made the suggestion, his gut clenched. If Kate left, he wouldn’t have to be around her. He could forget the way she made his body hum to life.
Kate shook her head. “No. I quit my job. They’ve already leased the apartment we lived in. Not that I’d go back. It’s no safer in Houston than here.”
“What do you mean?”
“I left Houston after my apartment was broken into and ransacked.”
“In Houston?”
“Last week. The day after my father’s will was read.”
Ben didn’t like it. Hell, she wasn’t any safer in Houston than in Wild Oak Canyon. Ben resigned himself to being her protector until he could convince Hank he had the wrong man for the job. “Was your Houston apartment in a bad neighborhood?”
Kate shook her head. “I hadn’t had any problems in the four years I lived there. Whoever did it tore everything apart.”
“Any writing on the walls or threats?” Ben asked.
“No. They even ripped the cushions on my sofa. Every drawer was tossed, even the contents of the refrigerator.”
“They’re looking for something,” Ben stated. “The day after your father’s reading, you say? Did your father leave you anything besides this ranch?”
Kate’s eyes widened. “Yes.” Before Ben could question her, she ran up the stairs.
The blood racing through Ben’s veins had nothing to do with whatever item she might have received from her father and more to do with the way her bottom swayed side to side and the vision of smooth, creamy skin visible along the curves of her legs. “More clothes. She damn well better wear more clothes,” he muttered.
Kate paused at the top of the stairs, glancing down at Ben, her brows dipping. “Did you say something?”
“I’ll get my clothes on.” He strode back to the couch he’d spent the better part of the night lying awake on, thinking of the sexy legs on a woman he had no business looking at that way.
Hank Derringer was paying him to provide protection from a problem, not to become the problem or one more thing Kate had to be protected from.
He pulled his T-shirt on over his head, calling himself every kind of fool. If he had any cell phone reception at all, he’d be calling Hank and asking for a different assignment. One with a less attractive woman and…no kids.
“Hi.”
Speak of the devil.
Ben’s head poked through the neck of his T-shirt and he stared down at the pint-size version of Kate. Light reddishblond curls lay in bright disarray around the child’s shoulders.
She held out a brush. “Mommy told me to brush my hair.”
Without thinking, Ben took the brush from the girl. He’d brushed Sarah’s hair so many times he could have done it with his eyes closed. He knew just how to ease the tangles free without making her cry.
His throat closed as an image of his dark-haired daughter flashed into his memories. God, he missed her.
Lily looked up at him, her green eyes so like her mother’s. “Please?” She turned her back to Ben and fluffed her mane of red-gold hair out behind her, waiting expectantly.
Just like Sarah had.
All of the air left Ben’s lungs as if he’d been kicked hard in the gut. Yet his hand moved, reaching out to lift a lock of silky red-blond curls. He dropped to his haunches and ran the brush along the strand, picking out the knots with care.
He hadn’t felt this emotionally wrung out since Sarah and Julia had died. But the more he