sometimes you choke.â One of the wounds in her heart split open. âHe left Adam next to nothing.â
Ben studied her profile. âJack drew a hard line.â And Adam Wolfchild wasnât blood, Ben thought. That would have been uppermost in Jackâs mind.
âAdam should have more.â Will have more, she promised herself.
âIâm not going to disagree with you when it comes to Adam. But if I know anyone who can take care of himself and make his own, itâs your brother.â
Heâs all Iâve got left. She nearly said it before she caught herself, before she remembered it would be a mistake to open any part of her heart to Ben. âHowâs Zack? I saw his plane this morning.â
âChecking fences. Iâd have to say heâs happy, the way he goes around grinning like a fool day and night. He and Shelly dote on that baby.â They all did, Ben thought, but he wasnât going to mention the fact that he couldnât keep his hands off his infant niece.
âSheâs a pretty baby. Itâs still hard to see Zack McKinnon settling down to family life.â
âShelly knows when to yank his reins.â Unable to resist, Ben grinned at her. âYouâre not still carrying a torch for my baby brother, are you, Will?â
Amused, she shifted and smiled sweetly. There had been a brief time when they were teenagers that she and Zack had made calfâs eyes at each other. âEvery time I think of him, my heart goes pitty-pat. Once a womanâs been kissed by Zack McKinnon, sheâs spoiled for anyone else.â
âHoney . . .â He reached over, flipped her braid behind her back. âThatâs because Iâve never kissed you.â
âIâd sooner kiss a two-tailed skunk.â
Laughing, he shifted his horse just enough so that his knee bumped Willaâs. âZackâd be the first to tell you, I taught him everything he knows.â
âMaybe so, but I think I can live without either one of the McKinnon boys.â She jerked a shoulder, then turned her head slightly. âSmoke.â There was relief in that, in the sign of people and the near end of her solitary ride with Ben. âThe crewâs probably in the cabin. Itâs dinnertime.â
With another woman, any other woman, Ben thought, he could have reached over, pulled her close, and kissed her breathless. Just on principle. Since it was Willa, he eased back in the saddle and kept his hands to himself.
âI could eat. Iâm going to want to round up the herd, get them down. More snowâs coming.â
She only grunted. She could smell it. But there was something else in the air. At first she wondered if it was the sensory echo from the bear and the blood on her hands, but it lingered, seemed to grow stronger.
âSomethingâs dead,â she murmured.
âWhat?â
âSomethingâs dead.â She straightened in the saddle, scanned the ridges and trees. It was dead quiet, dead still. âCanât you smell it?â
âNo.â But he didnât doubt she could, and he turned his horse as she did. Already on the scent, Charlie was moving ahead. âItâs the Indian in you. One of the hands probably shot dinner.â
It made sense. They would have brought provisions, and the cabin was always stocked, but fresh game was hard to resist. Still, that didnât explain the dread in her stomach or the chill along her spine.
There was the scream of an eagle overhead, the wild, soul-stirring echo of it, then the utter silence of the mountains. The sun glittered off the snow, blinding. Following instinct, Willa left the rough path and walked her horse over broken, uneven ground.
âWe donât have a lot of time for detours,â Ben reminded her.
âThen go on.â
He swore, reaching around to check that his rifle was within easy reach. There were bear here, too. And cougar. He
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