Brenda Mott - The Sheriff Of Sage Bend

“Miranda?” Lucas laid a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged away as though she’d been burned. “I’m fine. Just stretching my neck.” She moved her head back and forth, massaging her pinched muscles.

“Let me.” She tried to knock them aside, but his hands found their way to either edge of her collarbone, and he worked his strong thumbs and fingers up and down her shoulders, her neck, getting rid of the kinks.

She closed her eyes, fighting her misgivings. The past was the past. Shannon was missing and possibly in grave danger, out in the wilderness alone—or worse. Up until that very minute, Miranda had wanted to pretend her sister was all right. That she’d merely taken a spill from her horse, whacked her head and gotten disoriented. That she’d show up any minute now on their mother’s doorstep, hurt but okay. She would laughingly explain what had happened. Lost my bearings. Got turned around in the trees and the dark.

But Shannon knew the woods and mountains like her own backyard. They were her backyard. One she and Miranda had grown up in, riding with their mom. Taking groups out with Paige from the time they were old enough to sit a horse.

Miranda stepped away from Lucas again and dropped onto a bale of hay. “I can’t stop thinking about Jo Ella.” She was just twenty-one. Shannon was older, probably stronger. Could she fight off an attacker? Was that where the blood had come from?

“Miranda, Lonnie Masterson is in jail. He can’t hurt Shannon.”

“He’s not the only kook out there, you know. Bad things happen in small towns, too.”

Lucas let out a tired sigh. “Try not to worry,” he said. “We’re going to find her.”

Miranda bit her lips again, nodding. “Yeah.”

But would it be too late?

LUCAS FOLLOWED MIRANDA to the house, accepting her offer of a Coke to go. He needed caffeine. But when he walked into the living room, he collapsed, every tired bone in his body aching. He perched on the end of the black leather couch. Just for a minute. The gray-and-blue throw pillows behind him, embroidered with horses, felt mighty inviting.

Miranda narrowed her eyes when she handed him his Coke a moment later, but said nothing. Instead, she slipped off her boots and sat at the opposite end of the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“We’ll get the search team out again…more volunteers. Kyle Miller’s living in Bozeman now, working with search and rescue.” Miranda had dated Kyle, back when they were kids. “He’s got a tracking dog. I spoke to Kyle earlier, and he’s going to bring the dog over. We’ll see if he can pick up Shannon’s trail.”

Hope lit Miranda’s eyes. “Good. I still can’t believe this is happening.” She pulled the band from her ponytail and raked a hand through her long, dark hair. Lucas recalled how tense her muscles had felt when he’d rubbed her neck and shoulders. He wished she’d let him comfort her.

Quiet claimed the room as Miranda sat lost in thought. Lucas let his own mind drift, mapping out the search procedure for tomorrow. They had to find Shannon. He wouldn’t rest until they did.

He wasn’t even aware that he’d dozed off until he awoke with a jerk. Disoriented for a moment, Lucas wondered where he was. Finding Miranda snuggled against him answered that question. She slept fitfully, her forehead creased. Her hair tumbled in disarray around her shoulders. It looked as if she’d fallen asleep, then inched her way prone, her knees now tucked close to her chest as she lay curled against him. She murmured something in her sleep.

Unable to resist, he reached down and caressed her face. If only things could be different…

She sighed, and the tense lines relaxed as he stroked her. The rough-and-tumble cowgirl—not afraid to ride the wildest horse or even a bull in her high school days—felt soft and feminine beneath his hand, her body warm. He hated to wake her, and wished he could stretch out beside her and wrap her in his arms.

“Miranda,” he said softly. She came instantly awake. Her eyes shot open, and widened when she saw him. She sat up.

“I guess I was tired. What are you still doing here?”

“I dozed off, too.”

“What time is it?” She covered a yawn and turned to look at the clock on the wall. “Five? Crud. I need to shower.” She rose quickly. “The search party’s going to meet at six?”

He nodded.

“Cripes! I forgot I don’t have my truck.” She glared at him, dispelling all fantasies he’d harbored a moment ago.

“I’ll run you to get it after your shower. Meanwhile, I’ll head home and take one myself. Need any help with your morning chores?”

“No, thanks. You’ve done enough.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

When he walked outside, the dogs circled and nipped at his heels. “Hey, knock it off!” He kept an eye on them over his shoulder as they followed him to the Blazer, barking once he was inside.

It was as though they were telling him what he already knew. He didn’t belong here with Miranda.

And he’d do well to remember that.

MIRANDA TRAILERED RANGER, her black gelding, over to the stables. Searchers were already gathering, along with a couple of reporters from the local press. Lucas had brought his own horse, too, a stocky buckskin. Within a short time, Miranda had Ranger saddled, ready to ride. A silver SUV pulled up by the barn, and a tall man wearing a ball cap—Kyle Miller—unloaded a black German shepherd from the back. Miranda had expected a bloodhound. Then again, she’d seen other breeds used for tracking. She watched as Kyle spoke to Lucas, then the two came toward her and Paige.

“Kyle,” Miranda said. “I haven’t seen you since ninth grade. I almost didn’t recognize you with the mustache and all.” He sported a neatly trimmed, goatee-style beard.

“I’ve been hearing that ever since I moved back to Montana,” he said, his dark eyes taking her in.

“Thank you for coming, Kyle,” Paige said.

“I’m happy to help. I’m just sorry I couldn’t get out here yesterday. We were conducting a search for a lost child over in Blue Ridge Park. Found him, safe and sound.” Kyle beamed proudly at the big shepherd. “If your daughter is out there, Blackhawk will find her.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Do you still ride?” Miranda asked. “Will your dog follow a horse?”

“I ride, and Blackhawk will stick with me. But to work the scent, I need to be on foot.”

“That’s fine, but it’s a ways out to the place where Shannon’s trail disappeared. It’ll be faster to get there on horseback.”

“That’ll do. We can work the trail from there. I’ll need an item of Shannon’s clothing, preferably something she’s recently worn.”

“I already have it,” Paige said. She handed over a paper bag. “It’s one of her T-shirts.”

“Perfect.”

“Okay,” Miranda said. “Let’s go.”

Kyle mounted up on one of the dude horses, and the four of them headed out the east fork, while Garrett and Deputy Mac Frazier stayed behind to supervise a search grid. In spite of the mild early morning temperature, Miranda shivered as they neared the rock where they’d found Shannon’s blood.

Kyle climbed off his horse and traded Blackhawk’s collar for a leash and harness. The dog grew excited. It was time to work. Kyle took Shannon’s T-shirt and let the animal sniff it, giving him encouragement and the command “Go find.”

Miranda watched, fascinated, as the shepherd sniffed the rock, then lowered his head to investigate the patch of blood, which had dried to a dark brown. He circled and immediately picked up a scent. He set off, Kyle clutching the long lead, the pair climbing the steep hillside in a direction Miranda hadn’t taken yesterday. One too steep for the horses to go.