Paula Graves - Case File - Canyon Creek, Wyoming

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What was supposed to be a quiet vacation in scenic Wyoming turned deadly when Hannah Cooper became the target of a serial killer. Although she survived the attack, the ordeal was far from over. But she wasn't alone. Not when Riley Patterson appointed himself her protector.
Beneath Riley's strapping, solemn exterior hid a hard-driving sheriff who would stop at nothing to catch a killer. He promised Hannah safety, but it was the danger he posed that drew her in. Riley was as much a mystery as the man who sought to take her life. Trapped on his ranch, with no one but each other to trust, only justice could set them free.and possibly separate them forever.

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“So we stick with that. You came here to go fishing, and we met by accident-”

She heard the sound of a zipper. Squeezing her eyes shut, she sighed. “And immediately started shacking up? I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Hey, you’re the one who gave Jack your room.”

She glared at the opposite wall. “You started it with the girlfriend thing.”

“Enough. Clearly, since you’re not that kind of girl and I’m not really that kind of guy, we met months ago.” He emerged from the bedroom dressed in jeans and a fresh T-shirt. “Maybe we met online.”

If she’d thought a fully dressed Riley Patterson would be less distracting than a naked one, she’d been gravely mistaken. The T-shirt only emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and the powerful muscles of his chest, and the well-worn jeans fit him like a second skin.

Stop looking, Hannah. Looking leads to touching and touching leads to getting your heart shattered in a million pieces the day before your wedding-

She cleared her throat. “Where online?”

“I don’t know. I don’t go online much.” Frustration lining his lean features, he headed toward the kitchen.

She followed. “Do you fish?” she asked.

He turned to look at her, leaning against the sink counter. “What is with the fishing thing?”

“My family runs a marina and fishing camp. I’m a fishing guide, among other things.” She shot him a wry smile. “You’re looking at the Crappie Queen of Gossamer Lake.”

His lips quirked. “Okay, we met on a fishing Web site.”

“Which one?”

He reached for the coffeemaker. “You tell me. You’re the Crappie Queen.”

Over coffee, they quickly outlined their cover story. They’d met online on Freshwater Expeditions, a fishing forum that put avid freshwater fishermen together with fishing guides all over the country. Hitting it off immediately, they’d formed a friendship that became something more, and Hannah had combined her planned fishing trip to Wyoming with the chance to finally meet Riley face-to-face.

“One thing led to another, and…”

“And now we’re sleeping together.” Hannah’s forehead wrinkled as she finally realized the full implications of offering the guest room to Jack. She pushed away her unfinished cup of coffee and rubbed her tired eyes. “Mama’s right. My temper always gets me in trouble.”

“I’ve got a sleeping roll I can put on the floor.”

She shook her head. “It’s your bed. I’ll take the roll.”

“I’ve slept outdoors on the hard, cold ground before, plenty of times. Snugged up next to the wood stove will be a luxury.” He carried their cups to the sink. “So we’re set? Is our cover story close enough to the truth for you to handle?”

“I think so. But we should make a pact-we share whatever we tell Jack separately. There’s a lot of room to mess up.”

The rattle of the back door cut off any response he might have made. He grabbed his gun from the counter.

Jack entered the kitchen, his dark hair windblown and his cheeks bright with exercise. Riley relaxed, tucking the gun in the waistband of his jeans.

Jack’s earlier glum mood was gone, replaced by a mischievous light in his dark eyes. “I took Jazz out for a run. He cut loose-you haven’t been riding him much recently?”

“Not as much as I should,” Riley admitted.

Hannah almost asked how many horses he had, then wondered if that was something they’d have discussed online. She slanted a quick look at Riley and found him looking a bit unnerved.

“Do you ride?” Jack asked Hannah.

“Yeah, though not as much as I’d like. In fact, we’ve been thinking of buying some horses and offering trail rides in the spring and fall up Gossamer Mountain.”

“Gossamer Mountain?”

“It’s in Alabama,” Riley interjected. “Hannah’s family has a fishing camp up there. That’s how we met.”

“You met at a fishing camp in Alabama?” Jack looked at Riley with a confused expression. “When did you go to Alabama?”

“No, we met online. On a fishing forum,” Riley said.

“You go online?” Jack’s eyes widened further.

“Not a lot,” Riley said defensively, as if his brother-in-law had accused him of being a nerd.

Hannah stifled a grin. “It’s a forum called Freshwater Expeditions.” She checked out the forum from time to time herself to keep up with what avid anglers were talking about. It was good for business. “We hit it off right away.”

“And when Hannah made plans to visit some friends here in Wyoming, we decided to finally meet in person.”

“And here we are.” Hannah hoped her smile didn’t look as brittle as it felt. Playacting wasn’t one of her talents. It was nerve-racking, wondering if Jack Drummond was buying the load of bull she and Riley were selling.

Not to mention the way her rattled brain kept returning to the realization that she and Riley Patterson would be sharing a bedroom come nightfall.

“SHE SEEMS NICE.”

Riley looked up from the case folder he was reading to find his brother-in-law’s dark-eyed gaze on him. He set the folder on the coffee table. “I know this has been a kick in the teeth for you, Jack. I’m sorry we sprang it on you like that.”

Jack pushed the rocking chair closer and propped his socked feet up on the coffee table. “Three years is a long time to be alone. I get that.”

Pain settled over Riley, down to the bone. “I haven’t stopped loving Em. I never will.”

“But we both know she wouldn’t want you to live the rest of your life alone,” Jack said solemnly.

Lying to Jack about his fake relationship with Hannah was worse than Riley had anticipated. Each fib felt like a bitter betrayal of Emily and the love they’d shared. His skin prickled, as if the truth was trying to seep through his pores and shout itself to the world.

He wasn’t over Emily! He hadn’t moved on.

He never would.

“You look a little beat, Riley. You were up all night with Hannah at the hospital, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he answered, relieved to finally say something that was true. “It was an eventful night.”

“Where’d she have her wreck?”

“Just outside of Whitmore-on the road toward Jackson.”

“Isn’t that way past here?”

Hell. “Yeah. She wanted to drive into Jackson to do some shopping.” Women liked to shop, right? Emily always had.

“How’d the wreck happen?”

Riley tamped down his irritation. Jack’s question wasn’t unreasonable, and if he and Hannah weren’t lying through their teeth, it wouldn’t even matter. “Nobody’s quite sure-Hannah doesn’t remember much of what happened around the time of the wreck. The police think she might have been run off the road.”

“Hit and run?”

“Something like that.”

Jack cocked his head. “I’m surprised you’re not out there hunting down the jerk who did it.”

“There aren’t any leads. And I’m more interested in taking care of Hannah.” That was true, at least. His voice rang with conviction.

Jack smiled, although Riley still detected a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I like her, I think. I mean, what I’ve seen of her. She seems very down to earth. Emily would approve.”

Pain sliced through Riley’s chest at Jack’s words. He took a couple of shallow breaths and looked away.

“I’m sorry if the way I acted this morning made you feel bad or anything.” Jack leaned forward, laying his hand on Riley’s arm. “You were a good husband to Emily. You deserve to be happy again.”

Riley managed a smile, but inside, an ache had settled in the center of his chest. He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to check on Hannah. Make yourself at home.”

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