dead had returned out of the blue after twenty-two years—and her stepmother had been killed in a car accident. It was as if tragedy was tracking that family.
“Apology accepted,” he said as he picked up her cowboy hat from the dust and handed it to her.
As they walked toward sun-bleached cliffs and shimmering green pines, he mentally kicked himself. He’d had a crush on Harper—from a distance, of course—for years, waiting for her to grow up, and now that she finally had and he’d managed to get her attention, he couldn’t imagine a worse encounter.
Not that he wasn’t knocked to his knees by her crooked smile or the way she had of cocking her head when she was considering something. Or the endless blue of her wide-eyed innocence—all things he’d noticed from the first time he’d laid eyes on her. He smiled to himself, remembering the first time he’d seen her. She’d just been a freckle-faced kid.
Somehow, he’d thought... She’d be grown-up and one day... He told himself someday he and Harper would have a good laugh over today’s little incident, before he mentally kicked himself.
He’d actually thought he’d rescued the woman of his dreams—until she’d hit him.
* * *
BRODY MCTAVISH. HARPER grimaced in embarrassment. She’d been half in love with him as far back as she could remember. Not that he had looked twice at her. He’d been the handsome rowdy teen she used to spy on from a distance. She’d been just a girl, much too young for him. But Brody had come to parties her older sisters had put on at the ranch. She and Cassidy were too young to attend and were always sent up to bed, but Harper often sneaked down when everyone else, including her twin, thought she was asleep.
Several times Brody had caught her watching and she’d thought for sure he would snitch on her, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d given her a grin and covered for her. Her nine-year-old heart had beat like a jackhammer in her chest at just the thought of that grin.
She’d seen Brody a few times after that, but only in passing. He’d graduated from high school and gone off to college before coming back to the family ranch. She’d been busy herself, getting an education, traveling, experiencing life away from Montana. When she’d heard that her sister Bo was dating Jace Calder, she’d wondered if he and Brody were still best friends.
It wasn’t until the wedding that she got to see him again. She hadn’t been surprised to find that he was still handsome, still had that same self-deprecating grin, still made her now grown-up heart beat a little faster. She’d waited at the wedding reception for him to ask her to dance since they were both attendants, but he hadn’t. She’d told herself that he probably still saw her as a child, given the difference in their ages.
Glancing over at him now, she didn’t even want to consider what he must think of her after this. Not that she cared, she told herself, lifting her head and pretending it didn’t matter. He probably didn’t even remember the secret they had shared when she was a girl.
As they walked, though, she couldn’t help studying him out of the corner of her eye. Earlier, she hadn’t appreciated how strong he was. Now that she knew he wasn’t some predator who had been trying to abduct her—something she’d been warned about as a girl since she was the daughter of a wealthy rancher, not to mention US senator—she took in his muscled body along with the chiseled features of his handsome face in the shade of his straw cowboy hat.
No matter what he said, he hadn’t accepted her apology. He was still angry with her. She’d given him her best smile when he’d returned her hat from the ground and all she’d gotten was a grunt. Her smile was all it usually took with most men. But Brody wasn’t most men. Isn’t that why she’d never been able to forget him?
“I feel as if we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” she said, trying to make amends.
Another grunt without even looking at her.
“My fault entirely,” she said, although she didn’t really believe that was true and hoped he would agree.
But he said nothing, nor would he even look at her. He was starting to irritate her. She was doing her best to make up for the misunderstanding, but the stubborn man wasn’t giving her an inch.
“You can’t just keep ignoring me,” she snapped, digging in her boot heels as she stopped shy of the pine-covered hillside. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said? If you don’t look at me right this minute, Brody McTavish, I’m going to—”
He swung on her. Had she not been standing flat-footed she would have stumbled back. Instead, she was rooted to the ground as suddenly he was in her face. “I’ve been listening to you and I’ve been looking at you for years,” he said, his voice deep and thick with emotion. “I’ve been waiting for you to grow up.” His voice faltered as he dropped his horse’s reins. “Because I’ve been wanting to do this since you were sixteen.”
Grabbing her, he pulled her against his rock-hard body. His mouth dropped to hers. Her lips parted of their own accord, just as her arms wrapped around his neck. Her heart hammered against her ribs as he deepened the kiss and she heard herself moan.
The sudden high-pitched whinny of a horse only yards away brought them both out of the kiss in one startled movement. Turning, she could see her horse in the trees. Her first thought was that the mare had gotten into a hunter’s snare, because the whinny was one of pain—or alarm.
Brody grabbed her arm as she started past him to see what was wrong with her horse. “I think you should wait here,” he said, letting go of her arm as he took off toward the pines.
“My horse—”
“Stay here,” he said more sternly over his shoulder.
Still stunned by the kiss and anxious about her horse, she set off after him. The ground was soft under her feet. She saw where fresh soil had washed down through the pines, forming a dark, muddy gully.
Her horse was partway up the hillside near where the rain a few nights ago had loosened the soil and washed it down the hillside. As Brody approached, the mare snorted and crow-hopped away a few feet.
“She’s afraid of you,” she called to his retreating backside. She could hear him speaking softly to the horse as he approached. She followed, although she was no match for his long legs.
An eerie quiet fell over the hillside as she stepped into the shadowed pines. She slowed, frowning as she finally got a good look at her horse. The mare didn’t seem to be hurt and yet Harper had never seen her act like this before.
“I thought I told you to stay back,” Brody said as she came up behind him. “You’ve never been good at following orders, have you?”
So he did remember her sneaking downstairs at her sisters’ parties. She felt a bump of excitement at that news, but it was quickly doused. Past him, she saw that her horse’s eyes were wild. The mare snorted again, stomped the ground and shied away, to move a few yards back from them and the gully.
“What is wrong with her?” Harper demanded, afraid it was something she had done.
“She’s reacting to what the hard rain dislodged and sent down the hillside in an avalanche of mud,” Brody snapped. What was he talking about? As she started to step past him to get a look, he put a hand out to stop her. “Harper, you don’t want to see this.”
She did want to see whatever it was and resented him telling her she didn’t. Protective was one thing, but the man was being ridiculous. She’d been raised on a ranch. She’d seen her share of dead animals, if that’s what it was. She stepped around him, determined to see what the storm had exposed.
At first all she saw were old grimy, weathered boards that looked like part of a large wooden box. Then she saw what must have been inside the container before it had washed down the slope and broken open.
Her pulse jumped at the sight, her mind telling her she wasn’t seeing what her eyes told her she was. “What is that?” she whispered into the