“Take your hands off me.”

For a brief second, something akin to regret glimmered in his expression. But he released her and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually manhandle women.”

She wanted to believe him, but she’d suffered her share of men who did. So she refused to let him off the hook.

His loud exhale punctuated the air. “Please sit down. I’ll behave.”

He looked so contrite that a tingle of something like respect danced through her. But she refrained from commenting as another image taunted her. One of Ray’s hands on her, tenderly stroking her, making her feel safe. No, not safe. Alive.

Fool.

Ray McCullen was anything but safe.

And judging from his brusque attitude, he was going to hate her when he learned the reason for her visit.

Roping
Ray McCullen
Rita Herron

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling author RITA HERRON wrote her first book when she was twelve but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former nursery school teacher and workshop leader, she traded storytelling to kids for writing romance, and now she writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. Rita lives in Georgia with her family. She loves to hear from readers, so please visit her website, www.ritaherron.com.

To Sue, who just had her own cowboy adventure!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

Ray McCullen hated all the secrets and lies.

He despised his father, Joe McCullen, even more for making him keep them.

In spite of the fact that his brothers, Maddox and Brett, thought he didn’t care about them or the family, he had kept his mouth shut to protect them.

God knows the truth about their father had eaten him up inside.

Only now, here he was back at home on the Horseshoe Creek ranch waiting on his father to die, grief gnawing at him. Joe McCullen wasn’t the perfect man Maddox and Brett thought he was, but Ray still loved him.

Dammit.

He didn’t want to, but the love was just as strong as the hate.

Maddox stood ramrod straight in the hallway outside their father’s room, his expression unreadable while Brett visited their dad.

Ray moved from one foot to the other, sweating. He and Brett had both been summoned to the ranch at their father’s request—he wanted to talk to each of them before he passed.

Suddenly the door swung open. Brett stalked into the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, then his boots pounded as he jogged down the steps. Maddox arched a brow at him indicating it was Ray’s turn, and Ray gritted his teeth and stepped into the room.

The air smelled like sweat and sickness, yet the sight of the familiar oak furniture his father had made by hand tugged at this emotions. His mother had died when he was just a kid, but he could still see her in that bed when he’d been scared at night and his daddy wasn’t home, and he’d sneak in and crawl up beside her.

His father’s cough jerked him back to reality.

Ray braced himself for a lecture on how disappointed his father was in him—Maddox was the perfect son who’d stayed and run the ranch, and Brett was the big rodeo star who’d accumulated fame and money—while he was the bad seed. The rebel.

The surly one who’d fought with their father, left home and never came back.

“Ray?”

The weak sound of his father’s voice forced his feet into motion, and he crossed the room to his father’s bedside. God, he didn’t want to do this.

“Ray?”

“Yes, Dad, I’m here.”

Another cough, pained and wheezy. Then his father held out a shaky hand. Ray’s own shook as he touched his father’s cold fingers.

He tried to speak, but seeing his father, a big brawny man, so thin and pale was choking him up. Joe McCullen had always been larger than life. And he’d been Ray’s hero.

Until that day...

“Thank you for coming, son,” his father said in a raw whisper.

“I’m sorry it’s like this,” he said, and meant it.

His father nodded, but a tear slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, Ray. For hurting you and your mama.”

Ray clenched his jaw to keep his anger at bay.

“I know I put a heavy burden on you a long time ago, and it drove a wedge between the two of us.” He hesitated, his breathing labored. “I want you to know that your mama forgave me before we lost her. I...loved her so much, Ray. I hated what I did to her and you.”

Grief and pain collected in Ray’s soul, burning his chest. “It was a long time ago.” Although the hurt still lingered.

“I wish I’d been a better man.”

Ray wished he had, too.

“When you find someone special, Ray, love her and don’t ever let her go.”

Yeah. As if he would ever tie himself down or fall in love. His heart couldn’t handle loving someone else to only lose them.

His father coughed, and Ray swallowed hard, the weak sound a reminder that this might be the last time he saw his dad. He wanted to tell him that nothing mattered, that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet, that they still had time.

But he’d been called home because they didn’t have time.

“The will...” his father murmured. “I tried to do right here, tried to take care of everyone.”

Ray tensed. “What do you mean—everyone?”

Joe squeezed his hand so tightly, Ray winced. But when he tried to pull away, his father had a lock on his fingers. “Ray, the ranch goes to you boys, but I need you to explain to Maddox and Brett. I owe...”

His voice cracked, his words fading off and he wheezed, gasping for air. A second later, his body convulsed and his eyes widened as if he knew this was his last breath.

“Owe what?” Ray asked. Did he tell Maddox and Brett about his other woman?

“Dad, talk to me,” Ray said, panicked.

But his father’s eyes rolled back in his head and he convulsed again, his fingers going limp.

Ray jerked his hand free, then rushed toward the door shouting for help. Maddox barreled inside the room and hurried to the bed.

Grief seized Ray as his father’s body grew still.

He bolted and ran down the steps, anguish clawing at him.

Damn his father. He’d done it to him again.

Left him holding the secret that could destroy his family forever.

Chapter One

Two weeks later

Scarlet Lovett parked in front of the sign for Horseshoe Creek, a mixture of grief and envy coiling inside her.

This was Joe McCullen’s land. His pride and joy. The place where he’d raised his family.

His real family. The one with his three beloved sons. Maddox. Brett. Ray.

Maddox was the oldest, the responsible one who was most like Joe in his devotion to Horseshoe Creek. He was also the sheriff of Pistol Whip, Wyoming.

Brett was the handsome, charming bull rider who was most like Joe in his flirtatious smile, his love for women and chasing dreams.

Ray was the youngest, the angry one who looked most like Joe, but he resented his father because he’d walked in on Joe with Barbara and knew about his indiscretion.

Scarlet watched a palomino at the top of a hill in the pasture as it stood alone, seemingly looking down at three horses galloping along together. Just like that lone horse, she had stood on the periphery of the funeral a few days ago, her heart aching, her anguish nearly overwhelming her.

Yet she’d felt like an outsider. She hadn’t spoken to the brothers. Had sensed they wouldn’t want her to share their grief.

She wasn’t part of that family. No, she’d lived with Barbara and Bobby, the other family Joe had kept secret.

The one the McCullen boys knew nothing about.

Well...except for Ray. And he didn’t know about her or Bobby...just Barbara.

Still, Joe had been the closest thing she’d ever had to a father.

She swiped at a tear, her hands trembling as she unfolded the letter he’d left for her before he’d passed.

My dearest Scarlet,

I was blessed to have sons, but I never had a daughter—until I met you.

My sweet girl, the moment I saw you in that orphanage and looked into those big, sad, blue eyes, you stole my heart. I admired your strength, your spunk and your determination to make it in this world, no matter what hard knocks life doled out for you.

You taught me how to be a better man, that family is not all about blood.

I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell my sons about you and Barbara and Bobby when I was alive. In my own way, I thought I was protecting them, and protecting the three of you by keeping the two parts of my life separate.

Truthfully, Barbara and I...we were over a long time ago. She knew that and so did I. But I’m trying to do right by all of you now.

If you’re reading this, you must have received the envelope I left for you. I have willed you a sum of money to help you make a fresh start, and a piece of ranch land with a small cabin on it for your own home.

Bobby will also receive a share, although you know that he resents me, and he’s had his troubles, so I have placed stipulations on his inheritance.

But you...my dear, I know you will use your inheritance to further our work at The Family Farm and help the children, and that you will treasure everything Horseshoe Creek has to offer.

Ranching and living off the land has always been in the McCullen blood, and in our hearts.

Know that you are in my heart, as well.

Love always,

Joe

Scarlet folded the letter again and slipped it inside the envelope, then shifted her Wrangler into Drive and wove down the path to the farmhouse Joe called home.

She wiped at a tear as she parked, and for a moment, she sat and admired the sprawling house with the big porch. It looked so homey and inviting that she could easily picture Joe here with his sons, enjoying family time riding on the land, big dinners over a table piled with homemade food and fishing in Horseshoe Creek.

But she had a bad feeling those sons wouldn’t welcome her.

Her stomach twisted at the idea of rejection, and she considered turning around and fleeing. Never contacting the McCullens and claiming what Joe had left her. Disappearing from Pistol Whip and starting over somewhere else.

Barbara and Bobby didn’t care about her. No one did.

Except Joe. He’d seen something in her that had inspired her to be a better person.

He’d made her feel loved, as if she was important, when she’d never felt loved or part of a family before.

She looked down at Joe’s handwriting again and remembered his words, and opened the door of her vehicle.

Joe had loved her and wanted her to have a piece of his land to remember him by.

She wanted it, too.

Like Joe said, she’d had hard knocks. She was a survivor and a fighter. But she also deserved love and a home.

She took a deep breath, strode up the porch steps to the front door, raised her fist and knocked.

* * *

RAY STARED AT the suitcase he’d brought with him when he’d come home, glad he hadn’t unpacked.

The itch to leave Horseshoe Creek burned in his belly. The burden of his father’s secret was just too damn much.

But the lawyer handling their father’s will had been out of town, so they still hadn’t dealt with that. And it would be something to deal with.

Maddox had also shocked him by asking him and Brett to stand up for him at Maddox’s wedding to Rose.

Dammit, seeing his oldest brother happy and in love had done something to him. Not that the brothers had repaired their relationship completely, but two weeks back together on the ranch had mellowed their fighting.

While Maddox and Rose were on their honeymoon, Ray had agreed to oversee the daily running of the ranch. He’d forgotten how much he liked riding and driving cattle.

Brett was busy drawing up plans for the house he and Willow were building for them and their son. They had married in a private ceremony, then moved in to one of the cabins on the property until their dream house was ready. Meanwhile, watching Brett with his little boy, Sam, had stirred up feelings Ray didn’t even know he had.

Like envy.

He shifted, uncomfortable with his thoughts. It wasn’t as if he wanted to get married or have a family. Not after the way his own had gotten screwed up.

He liked being alone. Liked hanging out in bars, meeting women who demanded nothing from him but a good night of sex. Liked owning his own private investigations business. He could take whatever case he wanted, travel to another state without answering to anyone and come home when he damn well pleased.

It’ll all be over soon, he reminded himself. Maddox and Rose would be back in a couple of days.

And so would Darren Bush, the lawyer handling the will.

Of course, if his father had made provisions for that woman in his will as he’d implied in his private conversation with Ray, the storm would hit.

Maddox and Brett would both be pissed as hell.

Maybe they could pay off the woman and she’d be out of their lives forever.

Then Ray could go back to his own life. Sink himself into a case and forget about family and being the outcast.

The front doorbell dinged, and Ray waited for Mama Mary, the family housekeeper and the woman who’d raised him and his brothers after their mother died, to answer it. But it dinged again, and he remembered she’d made a trip into town for groceries, so he jogged down the stairs.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a woman standing on the porch. Instinctively heat stirred in his belly. He didn’t know they made women like her in Pistol Whip.

She reminded him so much of those porcelain dolls his mother liked to collect that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

She was petite with long, wavy blond hair, huge oval-shaped baby blue eyes and milky white skin. A faint sprinkle of freckles dotted her dainty nose, making her look young and sweet. But that body told a different story. Her curves had been designed for a man’s hands.

The wind kicked up, swirling her hair around her heart-shaped face, and she shivered and hunched inside her coat.

“Mr. McCullen?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m one of them. Who are you looking for? Maddox? He lives here.”

She shrugged. “Actually I’d like to talk to Ray.”

Her whisper-soft voice sent his heart into fast motion. “That’s me.” Did she need a PI?

She shivered again, then glanced in the entryway. “May I come in?”

He realized she was cold and that he’d been staring, and he stepped aside and waved her in. Good grief. Women didn’t normally cause him to stutter or act like a fool.

But the combination of her beauty and vulnerable expression mesmerized him.

A wary look crossed her face, but she squared her small shoulders and followed him inside to the den. A fire roared in the ancient brick fireplace, the rustic furnishings the same as they had been when Ray lived here years ago.

The manners Mama Mary had instilled in him surfaced. “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be nice.” She clutched a patchwork homemade shoulder bag to her and sank onto the leather sofa in front of the fire.

He walked over to the sideboard in the adjoining dining area where Mama Mary always kept a carafe of hot coffee, then poured two cups.

“Cream or sugar?” he asked.

“Black,” she said, surprising him. Half the women he met wanted that froufrou fancy flavored coffee and creamer.

He handed her the cup and noticed her hand trembling. She wasn’t simply cold. Something was wrong.

“Now, you wanna tell me what this is about? Did my receptionist at McCullen Investigations tell you where I was?”

Again, she looked confused. “No, I didn’t realize you were a PI.”

Ray claimed the wing chair facing her and sipped his coffee. So, she wasn’t here for a case. “I don’t understand. If you don’t need my services, then what?”

She fidgeted. “I don’t know how to tell you this, except just to be up front.”

That sounded serious.

“My name is Scarlet Lovett. I knew your father, Ray. In fact, I knew him pretty well.”

Anger instantly shot through Ray. He’d been thinking how attractive she was, but he’d never considered that she might have been involved with his old man.

Well, hell, even from the grave, Joe McCullen kept surprising him. And disappointing...

He hardened his look. “Damn, I knew he had other women, but he was robbing the cradle with you.”

Those big eyes widened. “Oh, no, it wasn’t like that.”

“He was a two-timing, cheating liar.” Ray stood and paced to the fireplace as an image of his father in bed with Scarlet flashed behind his eyes. “How long was it going on?” And what did she want?

“Listen to me,” Scarlet said, her voice rising in pitch. “Your father and I were not involved in that way. He was nothing but honorable and kind to me.”

Yeah, I bet he was. He turned to her, not bothering to hide his disdain. “So what do you want?”

She set her coffee down and folded her arms. “He told me you were stubborn and resented him, but he didn’t say you were a jerk.”

Ray angled his head toward her. “You’re calling me names. Lady, you don’t even know me.”

“And you don’t know me.” Scarlet lifted her chin in defiance. “But if you’d be quiet and listen, I’d like to explain.”

Ray’s gaze locked with hers, rage and grief and other emotions he couldn’t define rolling through him.

The same emotions were mirrored in her own eyes.

Needing something stronger than coffee, he set the mug down, then strode to the bar and poured himself a finger full of scotch.

“I’ll have one of those, too,” she said.

He bit back a retort and poured her a shot, then carried the glasses back to the fireplace. He handed her the tumbler, then sank into the wing chair and tossed his back in one gulp. “All right. You want me to listen. Say what you have to say, then get the hell out.”

* * *

SCARLET SHUDDERED AT Ray’s harsh tone. She’d seen pictures of him and his brothers, and knew Ray was the formidable one.

He was also the most handsome. Sure Brett was the charmer and Maddox was tough, but something about that dark, mysterious, haunted look in Ray’s eyes had drawn her.

Maybe because she understood how anger changed a person. She’d dealt with her own share over the years in the children’s home.

But Ray had been lucky enough to have a father who’d wanted him. Even if Joe McCullen hadn’t been perfect.

“So, spill it,” Ray said. “Why are you here?”

“This was a mistake.” She stood, fingers closing over the edge of her bag. “I’ll leave.”

She started past him, but Ray shot up and grabbed her arm. “No way you’re leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Her gaze met his, tension vibrating between them. She gave a pointed look at her arm where his fingers held her.

“Take your hands off me.”

For a brief second, something akin to regret glimmered in his expression. But he released her and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually manhandle women.”

She wanted to believe him, but she’d met too many men who did. So she refused to let him off the hook.

His loud exhale punctuated the air. “Please sit down. I’ll behave.”

He looked so contrite that a tingle of something like respect danced through her. But she refrained from commenting as another image taunted her. One of Ray’s hands on her, tenderly stroking her, making her feel safe. No, not safe. Alive.

Fool.

Ray McCullen was anything but safe.

And judging from his brusque attitude, he was going to hate her when he learned the reason for her visit.

Chapter Two

Ray struggled to wrangle his temper as Scarlet took a seat again.

When he looked at her, he couldn’t help but think about those damn dolls his mother had loved so much.

Just like them, she was almost too beautiful to be real.

Like them, she looked fragile, like a piece of china that could break if you held it too hard.

Yet she’d stood up to him and had a stubborn set to her chin that made him suspect there was more to her than surface beauty.

He could easily see why his father might have been attracted to her. But God...she was so young...

“I realize what I’m going to tell you may come as a shock,” she said softly, “but it’s what Joe wanted.”

“How do you know what my father wanted?”

Her eyes flickered with uneasiness at his tone. “I told you that I knew him pretty well.”

“So you said. But how did you know him? Was he your sugar daddy?”

Scarlet sucked in a harsh breath. “No. It wasn’t like that, Ray. I met him at The Family Farm outside Laramie.”

“The Family Farm?”

Scarlet nodded. “It’s a home for children without parents, an orphanage. Your father volunteered there. I was ten at the time we met, but he took me under his wing.”

For a moment, Ray couldn’t respond. “I find it hard to imagine my father volunteering with children,” he finally said. “He was a rancher. He worked the land.”

Scarlet shrugged. “He told me once that he had to find a way to atone for his sins. That he hadn’t always been the father he wanted to be, and he hoped giving back to some children without families would help make up for it.”

Ray’s dark gaze met hers, probing, skeptical. “He told you about Horseshoe Creek? About us?”

“Yes,” Scarlet said softly. “He loved you and Maddox and Brett. He was proud of all of you.”

Ray chuckled, but the sound was filled with sarcasm. “He was proud of Maddox. And maybe Brett because of the bull riding. But he didn’t give a damn about me.”

“That’s not true,” Scarlet said. “He loved you and hated what he did to you. That you knew his flaws.”

“That I did.” Ray made no attempt to hide his animosity. “He cheated on my mother with some woman named Barbara. But my mother loved him anyway.”

Scarlet looked away for a second, which made him even more uneasy.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of that worn-out shoulder bag. “I’m sorry, Ray, I didn’t come here to dredge up bad memories.”

“My father just died, Scarlet. Coming home already did that.” He exhaled. “So why did you come here? To tell me Dad did volunteer work?”

“Not just that, but to tell you what he did for me. I was alone and no one wanted to adopt me. But he gave me a home and a family.”

A bead of perspiration trickled down Ray’s neck. “What are you talking about?”

“He took me home to live with Barbara and Bobby. Their last name is Lowman.”

“You lived with my father’s mistress?”

She nodded. “For a while. With her and her son.” She hesitated. “Their son.”

Her words echoed in Ray’s mind as if he’d fallen into a wind tunnel. “Their son?”

Scarlet nodded. “I’m sorry. I...thought he was going to tell you about Bobby before he passed.”

A deep sense of betrayal cut through Ray, and he balled his hands into fists. He wanted to punch something.

He had known about the affair, but not that his father had another son.

* * *

SCARLET’S HEART SQUEEZED at the pain and shock on Ray’s face. She didn’t want to hurt this family, only to honor Joe’s last wishes.

Ray raked a hand through his thick, dark hair, then walked over to the bar and poured himself another shot. He kept his back to her as he stared into the fire, his shoulders rigid.

She glanced around the living room, absorbing its warmth, giving Ray time to process what she’d told him.

She tried to put herself in his place, to understand how he must feel. Her grief over Joe’s death was almost unbearable, and she wasn’t even Joe’s biological family.

She’d always looked up to Joe for the time he’d donated to the children’s home, and had secretly hoped to meet his sons one day, sons that he took pride in and had talked about when Bobby wasn’t around.

Joe and Bobby had a tumultuous relationship. Barbara and Joe had kept an on-again-off-again relationship over the years, but Joe had never married Barbara. He’d also been in and out of Bobby’s life, partly by choice, partly due to Barbara’s moody behavior.

But Joe had admitted to Scarlet once that he’d always loved his wife. No one could ever replace her.

In some ways, Bobby had a right to resent Ray, Maddox and Brett. Although Joe had financially supported him and Barbara, he’d never taken them to his ranch. Even after he lost his wife, he hadn’t shared Bobby with his other three sons.

“So I have a half brother?” Finally Ray turned toward her, a harshness in his eyes. “How old is he?”

“Twenty-six,” Scarlet said.

“Just a little younger than me,” Ray muttered. “Damn my daddy. Even in death, he found a way to screw us.”

“I’m sorry, Ray.” Scarlet fidgeted. “I know this is a shock. Maybe I shouldn’t have come, but—”

“But you did come,” Ray snapped. “Because you and Bobby want something? What? Part of Daddy’s money? The ranch?”

Scarlet flinched at his accusatory tone. Although she reminded herself that she’d just dropped a bombshell on Ray at a time when he was grieving. Lashing out was a natural reaction.

But Joe McCullen’s words in that heartfelt letter echoed in her head. She had loved Joe, and even though he’d made mistakes in his life, he’d cared about her.

Ray must have read her silence as a yes. “That’s it, isn’t it? You want part of Horseshoe Creek?”

“Ray, please,” Scarlet said, her voice quivering. “It’s not like that.”

Ray’s jaw tightened. “Then how is it? You simply came to tell me you’re sorry my father is gone? That he has another son, but that he doesn’t want part of Dad’s legacy?”

Actually Bobby would want part of it. And Joe had made arrangements for him, only there were stipulations attached to it. She didn’t know what those stipulations entailed, but whatever they were, Bobby would balk.

“I won’t lie to you, Ray. I am here because your father left me something.” She pulled the letter from her bag. “I had no idea he’d included me or Bobby in his will, but he did. A lawyer named Bush contacted me about the reading.”

“Just as I thought,” Ray said, animosity dripping from every word.

Self-preservation kicked in. “Listen, Ray, I didn’t ask for this. And I don’t think Bobby even knows yet. He and Joe didn’t get along, and Bobby’s had problems in the past, so I don’t know what to expect from him now.” She shoved the letter toward Ray. “Just read this letter your father wrote me.”

Ray’s dark gaze latched with hers, tension stretching between them, filled with distrust.

Her hand trembled as she waited for Ray to take the letter. When he snatched it, she finally released the breath she’d been holding, sank back in the chair and struggled to calm her nerves.

But the sight of Ray’s big, tough masculine profile haloed by the orange-and-yellow firelight aroused feminine desires that she’d never felt. Desires that she had no right to feel for the man in front of her.

Desires that couldn’t lead to anything.

But something about his strong jaw, that heavy five o’clock shadow and the intensity in his eyes reminded her of Joe. Joe, the man who’d been like a father to her.

Joe who’d sent her here to meet his sons.

She clutched her drink glass again and sipped it. The warm scotch slid down her throat, warming her. Yet the alcohol also reminded her of Joe.

Why had he put her in this awkward position?

He had to have known that Ray and his brothers wouldn’t welcome her or want to share any part of their family ranch. That they would be angry, and that the truth would turn their world upside down.

* * *

RAY LEANED AGAINST the hearth as he studied the paper Scarlet had handed him. It appeared to be a handwritten letter to her.

In his father’s handwriting.

My dearest Scarlet,

I was blessed to have sons. But I never had a daughter—until I met you.

That first line knocked the breath from his lungs. But he forced himself to read further.

By the time he finished, his gut was churning. These were his father’s words. His father’s sentiments.

Betrayal splintered through him.

Scarlet wasn’t lying. His father had loved her, had lead a life that he’d kept from his sons.

What were Maddox and Brett going to say? They didn’t even know about Barbara...

“I realize this is a shock to you,” Scarlet said softly. “It was to me, too.”

Still suspicious though, Ray narrowed his eyes, determined to see the truth beneath the pretty exterior. She was dressed in jeans and a denim shirt, boots, her long blond hair natural, and she wore little makeup or jewelry.

Not his idea of what a gold digger would look like.

But who was to say she hadn’t conned his father into writing this when he was ill or on medication?

He’d worked as a PI long enough to know that con artists came in all shapes and sizes, that sometimes the most charming, alluring face hid a devious side beneath.

Scarlet had grown up in an orphanage. Wasn’t it common for children who grew up without parents or in troubled homes to have mental problems? Maybe she wanted a family so badly that she’d latched on to his father and had taken advantage of him in a weak moment and convinced him to take her in.

He cleared his throat. He needed more information before he showed this to his brothers. “Where did you get this letter?”

“It came registered yesterday.” She gestured toward the envelope. “You can see the return address on the envelope.”

Ray hadn’t paid attention to it, but he flipped the envelope over and noted the name of a law office. Bush Law, Darren Bush, attorney-at-law.

Darren Bush was his father’s lawyer. So she hadn’t lied about that.

“You realize I’ll need to make sure this is legitimate.”

Scarlet bit down on her lower lip. “Yes, but...I’d like the letter back. It’s the last thing Joe ever wrote to me.”

He clenched his jaw. “He wrote you other letters?”

Scarlet shrugged. “Not letters, but he gave me cards for encouragement when I lived at The Family Farm. And then on birthdays.”

Resentment bubbled inside Ray. Why had his father treated her so special when he’d ignored him?

Because you knew what he did to your mother. And his anger and bitterness had driven a wedge between the two of them.

But dammit, his father could have tried.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Scarlet said. “I almost didn’t come. But—”

“But you did,” Ray said again.

“Yes,” she said in a voice that cracked with emotion. “I don’t want the money per se, but I admired Joe and having a piece of the ranch that he cherished means I’ll always have a part of him. I know you and your brothers feel the same way.”

Except they were Joe McCullen’s blood. And she was...not family at all.

Although according to that letter, his father had loved her like a daughter.

Ray wished to hell he knew exactly how much money and land his father was talking about. And what about this half brother?

The letter mentioned that he had problems. Would he make trouble for the McCullens?

Chapter Three

Scarlet sensed it was time to leave. She hadn’t expected the visit to go well, but she’d hoped...

What? That the McCullen men would welcome her into their family as Joe had?

They didn’t even know her. Besides, according to Joe, the three brothers had their own differences to work out. Throwing a surprise half brother in the mix that they were unaware of and adding her—who was not even blood kin—had to rock their foundations.

They might even find some loophole to prevent her from receiving what Joe had intended her to have.

A pang hit her. If that happened, she’d live with it. Lord knows, she’d handled rejection before.

Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure Barbara had ever wanted her.

At first she’d welcomed her as the daughter she’d never had, but later, Scarlet suspected Barbara had only tolerated her because she thought it might help her win Joe back.

And Bobby... He’d hated her from the beginning.

She stood, Ray’s tormented expression tearing at her heart. “I really am sorry about just showing up. I wish Joe had told you about us.”

“He was a coward,” Ray said.

She bit her tongue to keep from agreeing. Even thinking that made her feel disloyal for all Joe had done for her. But she’d been hurt that her own mother had abandoned her when she was little, and she didn’t understand why Joe had allowed his deception to continue for so long.

He had put Ray in a bad spot and left him harboring a secret that must have hurt him terribly.

“He said he wanted to protect your brothers,” Scarlet said. “He hated disappointing you all.”

“Don’t defend him, Scarlet.”

“I’m not defending him,” Scarlet said. “But everyone makes mistakes, Ray.”

Ray’s frown deepened, making his eyes look haunted. “I’ll call the lawyer and talk to him about this, but for now, I think you’d better go.”

So much for making friends with Ray.

No wonder he and Joe had butted heads. They were both stubborn and hardheaded.

He gestured at the door, and she walked toward the entranceway. This old farmhouse had been in the family forever, Joe had said. It was homey and warm. The pictures of the landscape and horses on the walls showcased life on the ranch.

A family portrait of Joe, his wife and the three boys when they were little hung in the hallway like a shrine to the McCullens.

As a little girl, she’d been so alone when her mother had abandoned her. She’d lived on the streets for a few days with a homeless woman. She’d slept in alleys and deserted barns and eaten garbage.

Then she’d gotten sick and the old woman had pushed her into a nearby church with a note saying she had no home and needed help.

She’d developed rheumatic fever, and her heart had been weakened from her illness, making matters worse. No one had wanted to adopt a sick child, so she’d ended up at the children’s home.

Ray opened the door and a gust of cold air blasted her, sending a shiver through her. She clutched her shawl around her shoulders and held her head up high.

She’d been called names, ostracized from social situations and left out of sports because she’d been small, sickly and poor.

She wasn’t sickly anymore, and she didn’t intimidate easily. Joe had taught her to respect herself and fight for what she wanted out of life.

She wanted a family of her own someday.

She’d hoped to be part of this one. But that didn’t look as if it would happen.

So she hugged her shawl around her and ran to her Wrangler. Even if the McCullen men didn’t want her in their lives, their father would forever live in her heart.

* * *

RAY IGNORED THE guilt stabbing at him for his rude behavior with Scarlet.

When people died, especially people who owned land or money, predators crawled out of the woodwork wanting a piece of the pie.

He had to investigate Scarlet and her claims. But if she was telling the truth about there being a half brother, then he and Maddox and Brett would have to deal with the fallout.

And there would be fallout. Especially if their father had left him part of Horseshoe Creek.

He watched the woman disappear down the drive, his throat thickening with mixed emotions. If his father had volunteered at this children’s home and cared for her, it meant that he hadn’t been the cold bastard Ray believed him to be.

Yet...how could he have lived such different lives? Two families...

After his mother’s death, Ray had wondered if his father would marry that other woman. Barbara.

When he’d remained single, Ray had wondered why.

He still wondered.

He scanned the long driveway. Would Barbara show up next?

Wind swirled leaves inside the front door, and he realized Scarlet was long gone, so he shut the door. What the hell was he going to do now?

The furnace rumbled, the sound of wood popping in the fireplace, and he strode back to the living room and studied the family picture on the mantel.

The smiling faces mocked him. They looked like the perfect family.

But the picture was a lie.

Joe had another side to him. He’d slept with this woman Barbara and had a son with her.

And Scarlet...she was the wild card. The stranger he’d given a home to make amends for the mess he’d made.

Ray rolled his hands into fists. He had to find out the truth before the reading of the will.

Dammit, Dad, I’m still covering for you, aren’t I?

Yeah, he was. But he hated to destroy his brothers’ worlds if he could protect them. After all, Maddox and Brett had both just married.

Brett had been the womanizer, but he’d sowed his oats, and he wouldn’t be a cheater like his old man.

One reason Ray had never gotten serious with a woman. If his old man hadn’t been able to handle commitment, how could he?

He pulled his phone from his jacket, punched in Bush’s number and left a voice mail.

“This is Ray McCullen. A woman named Scarlet Lovett paid me a visit and claims my father left her some money and land. She also claims my father had another son who is a beneficiary. My brothers don’t know anything about this yet, and I want to be prepared, so I need to talk you to before the reading of the will. Call me as soon as you get this message.”

An image of abandoned children living in a group home taunted him and made his gut squeeze with guilt. If Scarlet’s story was true, he’d be a bastard to contest his father’s wishes.

He grabbed his Stetson and headed outside. He’d drop by that group home and find out for himself.

* * *

SCARLET HELD HERSELF together until she reached the edge of the McCullen ranch, but she was trembling so hard by then she had to pull over. She parked beside a sawtooth oak and studied the sign for Horseshoe Creek, then gazed at the beautiful rolling pastures and the rocky terrain in the distance.

Joe had regaled her with stories about raising cattle and working with his sons on the ranch, and about cattle drives and branding in the spring. He’d had big dreams of expanding the horse side of the operation, but when Ray and Brett left Pistol Whip, he and Maddox couldn’t handle expansion without them.

The sun was setting, painting the ridges of the mountains beyond a golden hue and the sky a radiant red and orange. Cattle grazed in the pasture to the east, and horses galloped near a stable to the west.

She understood why Joe had loved this land.

And why his sons would want to hold on to it.

Tears trickled down her cheeks. Ray and his brothers were still mourning their father.

So was she. But just like the rest of her life, she had to do it alone. She’d kept her distance at the funeral for fear someone would ask about her relationship with Joe. Plus, she’d respected him too much to intrude on his sons’ day.

Maybe she should just disappear from the McCullens’ lives now. Forget the will reading. Not ask for anything.

She had her memories of Joe. That was all she needed.

She started her engine and headed back toward her rental house.

She had survived being abandoned as a child, and now she’d earned her degree in social work and was helping other children like herself. She had a fulfilling job and she was giving back.

Even if she was alone at night, it didn’t matter. There were children who depended on her. She wouldn’t let them down just like Joe hadn’t let her down.

Her stomach twisted. Which meant she couldn’t run from the McCullens.

She needed the money Joe had left her to help The Family Farm.

* * *

RAY STUDIED THE sign for the children’s home—The Family Farm. The house was set back on several acres with room for livestock and stables, but he didn’t see any cattle or horses.

He maneuvered the drive and parked in front of the rustic wooden structure that reminded him more of a fishing lodge than a home for children.

Someone had probably designed it that way. Smart.

A big front porch overlooked the property, the two-story house more welcoming than he’d expected. A van was parked to the side with an emblem of a circle of children holding hands and the name painted on the side. Two other vehicles were parked in the graveled lot. Probably employees.

He climbed out and walked up the steps, then knocked. A pudgy middle-aged woman with a short brown bob answered the door. “Yes?”

“My name is Ray.”

“Faye Gideon,” the woman said with a warm smile. “What can I do for you?”

“May I come in and talk to you?”

A slightly wary expression flickered in her eyes, and she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. “It’s dinnertime for the kids. What’s this about?”

He didn’t want to divulge that he was a private investigator yet. “I recently met a woman named Scarlet Lovett. She said she grew up here.”

Faye’s eyes widened, but a smile flitted across her face. “Yes, Scarlet. She did live here. Now she’s a social worker and helps place kids in forever homes when she can.” She opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “What did you say your name was?”

“Ray McCullen.”

She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, my goodness, I thought you looked familiar. You’re one of Joe’s boys, aren’t you?”

Ray swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. You knew my father?”

“Of course!” Faye grinned. “He volunteered here. That’s how he connected with Scarlet. But if you’ve met her, you probably know all of this.”

So Scarlet’s story was true.

“I’m so sorry about your daddy,” Faye said. “We all loved him. He was so wonderful with the children. We used to be in this old house nearer to town, but it was small and run-down, and Joe helped us build this place. Now we have twelve rooms, a big kitchen and land for the children to run and play.”

Ray couldn’t believe what she was saying. This wasn’t the man he remembered from his high school years at home.

“We’re all sad that he passed and will miss him,” Faye said. “Do you want to meet the children? They’ll be thrilled to visit with one of Joe’s sons. He talked about the three of you all the time.”

Emotions welled in Ray’s throat. Why hadn’t his father told him about this place? About what he was doing?

Because you left and never came back. You refused to talk to him.

And now it was too late.

* * *

SCARLET PARKED AT her rental house outside Pistol Whip, still shaken over the conversation with Ray McCullen. But there was nothing she could do tonight except give him time to process the bombshell she’d dropped on him.

Heart heavy, she let herself inside the tiny house. Although it was small, she had filled it with homey furniture, handmade quilts and crafts from Vintage Treasures, and she’d hung photographs of the farmland where the orphanage was housed on the walls.

She loved the beautiful landscapes and had been excited about Joe’s plans to add a stable and horses so the children could learn to ride. He’d also intended to add farm animals and assign the children chores to teach them responsibility. Working together would make them feel like a real family. God knows, most of them were plagued with self-doubt, insecurities and emotional issues.

She lit a fire in her fireplace, brewed a cup of tea, then grabbed her files and spread them on the kitchen table. She was most worried about one of the preteen boys, Trenton Akers. He was angry and lashing out at everyone, which made it more difficult to find him a forever home.

But there was a four-year-old, Corey Case, who a couple from Cheyenne were interested in. She opened the file on the couple to study their background check, but a noise outside startled her.

She went to the back door and peeked through the window in the laundry room. Wind hurled leaves across the backyard that jutted up to the woods. Night was setting in, the gray skies gloomy with shadows.

Suddenly she heard the doorknob jiggle, and she crept to the back door. A second later, the door burst open and Bobby appeared. He’d always been a foot taller than her, but he’d gained at least twenty pounds, making him twice her size.

Her lungs squeezed for air at the fury radiating from him. Beard stubble covered his face, and he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. “Hello, sis. We have to talk.”

Scarlet inhaled sharply. “Bobby, you’re drunk. Come back when you’re sober.”

He gripped her arm, then dragged her toward the living room and shoved her against the wall. “No, Scarlet. We’re going to talk now.”

Fear crawled through her. She’d borne the brunt of Bobby’s temper before, and barely survived it.

No telling what he’d do now that Joe wasn’t around to protect her.

Chapter Four

Ray reluctantly stepped inside The Family Farm house.

Part of him wanted to deny everything Faye was telling him, go home and forget about Scarlet Lovett.

But he couldn’t forget about her. Not if his father had included her and this other son in his will.

Bobby Lowman—his half brother.

Good God...he still couldn’t believe it. His father had another son. One he and Maddox and Brett had known nothing about.

Maddox and Brett were going to have a fit.

As he scanned the interior of the farmhouse, he couldn’t deny his father’s influence. It reminded him of the house on Horseshoe Creek. Wood floors, sturdy oak furniture, a giant family table in the dining room, a kitchen adjoining it that held another big round wooden table and a butcher-block counter.

Landscape paintings and farm and ranch tools decorated the walls in the hall and the dining room where several kids of varying ages sat eating what smelled like homemade chicken potpie.

A brick fireplace in the dining room and another one in the living room added to the homey feel.

Laughter, chatter and teasing rumbled from the table.

“I told you it was dinnertime,” Faye said. “The kids take turns helping prepare the meal and cleaning up. Their rooms are down the hall. We have a maximum of four children to a room, and in some cases only two. Boys and girls are housed on opposite sides of the main living area.”

She escorted him past the dining room to a large room equipped with several smaller tables and a computer area. “The children attend public school, and after school gather here to do their homework. We have volunteers who tutor those who need it.”

Ray nodded, trying to imagine his father in this place. “My father tutored kids?”

“No, he said schooling wasn’t his forte.”

You could say that again.

“But he helped in other ways. He organized games for the kids, like horseshoes, roping contests and, twice a month, he brought a couple of horses over to teach the children grooming skills and how to ride.”

She gestured at a back window that offered a view of the pastureland. “He planned to build a stable so we could house a few horses on-site. When the older boys discovered his son was a bull rider, they begged him to bring him here to meet them.”

Ray shifted. “That would have required him to tell us about this place.”

Faye’s eyes flickered with compassion. “I never quite understood that, but I figured it wasn’t my place to question your daddy, not when he was doing so much for us.”

Hurt swelled inside Ray. Nice that he’d been a hero for these strangers when he’d lied to his own sons.

A little boy with brown hair and big clunky glasses ran in. “Miss Faye, we’re done. Barry wants to know if we can go out and play horseshoes.”

Faye ruffled the little boy’s hair. “I’ll be right there, Corey. You guys help Miss Lois clean up now.”

Corey bobbed his head up and down, then ran back to the dining room. Ray heard him shouting that they could play once they cleaned up.

Faye squeezed Ray’s arm. “You’re welcome to stay and play a game with the children. They’d like it, especially since you’re Joe’s son.”

Ray chewed the inside of his cheek. The air was suddenly choking him. “I’m sorry, I can’t today. I have to go.”

Faye nodded as if she understood, but her smile was sad. “I don’t know what we’re going to do now without Joe.”

Ray didn’t, either. But it wasn’t his problem.

Was it?

Hell, if his father had made provisions for Scarlet and his illegitimate son Bobby, he’d probably made arrangements to take care of this place, too.

Another thing to discuss with the lawyer and his brothers.

He ignored the chatter and laughter in the dining room as he walked past it to the front door. When he made it outside, he inhaled the crisp cool air, but his stomach was churning.

He checked his phone, hoping Bush would return his call, but there were no messages. He had to find out if Bobby planned to attend the meeting and stake his claim.

Ray gritted his teeth. He’d kept the truth from his brothers long enough. They deserved a heads-up before their world fell apart.

He would tell them as soon as Maddox returned.

* * *

SCARLET TRIED TO gauge the distance between the couch and the bedroom where she kept the pistol Joe had given her.

He’d insisted she take self-defense classes and he’d taught her to shoot so she could protect herself. Unarmed, she was no match for a two-hundred-and-forty-pound angry, drunk man.

Knowing Bobby’s triggers, that he liked to bully women and that he had no tolerance for people who crossed him, she forced her tone to remain calm. “What do you want, Bobby?”

“I want what’s mine.” He glared at her, then folded his arms and planted himself in front of her, legs apart on either side of hers, trapping her.

“I understand that and you deserve it.”

Distrust radiated from his every pore. “You went to the old man’s funeral?”

A pang of grief swelled inside Scarlet. “Yes, but I just watched from the sidelines.” She lifted her chin. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Barbara talked me out of it.” He gave a sarcastic chuckle. “I belonged there more than you did. You weren’t family.”

Scarlet bit her tongue but his hate-filled words hit home, resurrecting old hurts. “I figured it wasn’t the time to introduce myself to the McCullen brothers.”

It hadn’t gone very well today, either.

Bobby removed a pack of matches from his pocket, and she barely resisted a flinch. Bobby had always liked setting things on fire.

He struck a match, lit it and held it in front of her, the orange glow flickering and throwing off heat as he moved it nearer to her face. “I should have been a McCullen,” he said, a feral gleam to his eyes. “I should have had everything they did. That big damn ranch house and horses and land and...the privileges that came with it.” The match was burning down, and he dropped it in a coffee cup on her table, then lit another and waved it in front of her eyes.

With one beefy hand, he shoved her into a chair. “Then he brought you home and treated you like you were his own kid.”

Scarlet struggled to keep her breathing steady when she wanted to make a run for it. If she could reach her car, she could escape. And do what?

Call the police. She didn’t want to, but she would if necessary to protect herself. “He felt sorry for me, that was all.”

His intense look made her pulse hammer. “He gave you more love than he did me.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t let him love you,” Scarlet said. “You were always angry, acting out.”

“I had a right to be mad. He cheated me out of his name and that ranch.” The flame flickered low, nearly burning out, and he suddenly dropped the match into her lap. Scarlet shrieked as heat seared her thigh through her skirt, and she raked the match to the floor, then stomped it out with her boot.

Bobby’s maniacal laughter echoed through the room. He grabbed her arm and hauled her to a standing position.

Scarlet sensed the situation was spiraling out of control. She had been a punching bag before and swore she would never be one again.

“Maybe he did when he was alive,” Scarlet said as she yanked her arm away. “But he didn’t forget you, Bobby. He left you something in his will.”

Bobby’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you receive a notice from his lawyer?” Not that she wanted to tell Bobby about it, but she had to do something to defuse the situation.

His bloodshot eyes pierced her. “His lawyer?”

“Yes,” Scarlet said, desperate. “I received a notice to attend the reading.” She extricated herself from Bobby’s grip. “Let me get it and show it to you. He took care of you in his will, too. Maybe Barbara got the notice.”

Bobby cursed, but he allowed her to pass. She heard him in the kitchen digging through her refrigerator, and she rushed to her nightstand. She yanked out her pistol, reminding herself that she couldn’t allow him to turn it around and use it on her.

She loaded it, then held it down by her side as she slowly walked back to the den.

Bobby popped the top on a beer as he stepped into the doorway, and she raised the gun and pointed it at him. “I want you to leave.”

“You bitch.” He started toward her, one fist knotted as if he planned to slug her, but she lifted the gun toward his chest.

Bobby froze, his jaw twitching. “You were lying about the lawyer and the will.”

“No, I wasn’t. Ask Barbara. We’re all supposed to attend the reading.”

Bobby hesitated, still contemplating what she’d said as if he thought she was trying to trick him. “What is this lawyer’s name?”

“Darren Bush.” Scarlet took a step toward him, her hand steady. “I don’t want to use this, Bobby, but I will if I have to. Now, I don’t have anything you want here. No money. Nothing of Joe’s. And if you want to collect on whatever inheritance he left you, then you need to leave me alone or I’ll either shoot you or have you arrested.”

Pure rage flashed in his eyes, but he lifted the beer as if to toast her. “Shoot me and you’ll go to jail.”

“Make one more move, Bobby, and with your record, all I’ll have to do is claim self-defense.”

Bobby stared at her for a long tension-filled minute, his fury a palpable force. Then he downed the beer, crushed the can in his hand and threw the can at the fireplace. His boots pounded the floor as he strode to the door.

Her hand was shaking as he paused and turned back to face her. “You’re going to be sorry for pulling a gun on me.”

His evil laugh rent the air as he opened the door and stormed outside. As soon as the door slammed shut, her adrenaline waned, and she stumbled back to the couch.

Bobby didn’t make empty threats.

He would be back for revenge. It was just a matter of time.

* * *

RAY PLANTED HIMSELF on a barstool at The Silver Bullet and ordered a beer. Tonight the place was packed, the country music was rocking, the dance floor was crowded and the women were on the prowl.

He tipped his hat at a brunette who’d been eyeing him ever since he walked in, then dropped his gaze to his beer. He had too many problems to even think about crawling into bed with a woman tonight.

Besides, another woman’s face haunted him.

Scarlet Lovett’s. He couldn’t shake their conversation. Worse, he couldn’t erase the image of her porcelain face with those damn blue eyes that reminded him of his mother’s dolls.

Had his father seen that similarity? Was that the reason he’d been drawn to help Scarlet?

A brawny man with a beard and cowboy hat straddled the stool beside him, then angled himself toward Ray.

“You’re one of Joe’s sons, aren’t you?”

Ray swallowed hard. He’d forgotten what it was like to live in a small town where everyone knew everyone else. And Joe McCullen had been well-known around the ranching community.

“Yeah, I’m Ray.”

“Arlis Bennett,” the man said. “I’m out at the Circle T.”

Ray rubbed his chin. The owner of that ranch, Boyle Gates, had been arrested for his involvement in a cattle-rustling ring.

“I’m planning to expand,” Bennett said. “If you and your brothers decide to sell, give me a call.” He removed a business card from his pocket and laid it on the bar.

Ray slid it back toward him. “We’re not interested in selling. My brother Maddox plans to keep it a working ranch. And my brother Brett is staying to help.”

Bennett tossed back his shot of whiskey with a nod. “Well, I just thought you guys might want to move on. That it might be too hard for you to stick around without your father.”

Ray shifted, uncomfortable. “It is difficult, but the McCullens have put too much blood, sweat and tears into Horseshoe Creek to ever sell.”

“Then I guess we’ll be neighbors.” Bennett stood and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ray. Again, I’m sorry about your daddy.”

Ray nodded and shook the man’s hand. But something about the dark gleam in Bennett’s eyes reminded Ray of a predator. Not that he should be surprised that someone wanted to buy the ranch.

There might be more offers down the road.

A buxom blonde brushed up against his arm, her eyes glittering with invitation. “Hey, cowboy. Are you lonesome tonight?”

Hell, yeah he was, but an image of Scarlet taunted him. He saw her beneath him in bed, naked and clutching him, that porcelain skin glowing with passion.

“Sorry, honey, I’ve got to go.” He threw some cash on the counter to pay for the beer, then strode toward the door, disgusted with himself for being attracted to the damn woman. She was going to wreck his family.

A gust of wind blasted him as he walked to his Range Rover, and he jumped inside, started the engine and drove to the ranch.

Just as he approached, he spotted smoke billowing in a cloud from the pastureland on the east side.

He cursed. Hopefully it was nothing but a little brush fire, but he accelerated, taking the curve too fast, tires screeching as he neared Horseshoe Creek.

The miles seemed to take forever, his heart racing with each one. Instead of the smoke dying down, it grew thicker, rolling across the sky, orange-and-red flames shooting upward.

He grabbed his phone and punched 911, praying the fire department could get there fast.

The winds picked up and the fire was spreading, eating up valuable pastureland and heading toward the new stables Brett had just had built.

Chapter Five

Ray jolted to a stop several hundred feet from the flames.

The fire department should be on the way, but he couldn’t wait. He had to do something. He quickly scanned the blaze. One of the five barns Brett had had built was on fire, but the others were still safe, although if they didn’t do something fast, it would spread.

The sound of horses whinnying and pounding their hoofs against the buildings echoed above the roar of the blaze.

He punched Brett’s number, running toward the burning building to make sure it was empty as the phone rang. Three rings and his brother’s voice mail kicked in. “Brett, it’s Ray. There’s a fire at the stables. I’ve called the fire department, but I need you to get over here now.”

He jammed his phone into his coat pocket and checked the doorway to the first barn. Flames shot through the interior and seeped through the openings. He darted around back to the rear door and felt it. Warm, but not too hot.

He eased it open and glanced inside, heat instantly flushing his skin with perspiration. The right side of the barn was completely engulfed in flames, patches spreading through the interior, eating the floor and hay in the stalls.

No sign of horses inside, though. Thank God.

Still, if they didn’t contain the blaze, the animals could be in danger.

He ran back outside, gulping in fresh air as he hurried to the second barn. Smoke thickened the air, the wind blowing fiery sparks into the grass by the second barn and quickly catching.

Dammit. Where was that fire engine?

Knowing he couldn’t wait, he dashed inside the barn. Three horses stamped and kicked, pawing at the stalls to escape. Smoke seeped through the open doorway, making it hard to breathe.

He jogged to the first stall, unlatched the gate and yelled at the horse to get out. “Go on, buddy! It’s all right.”

The black gelding sprinted through the barn and outside. A siren wailed, and he ran to the next stall. The big animal was pawing and kicking wildly, obviously panicked.

“Shh, buddy, I’m going to set you free.” He opened the gate, then jumped aside as the horse charged past him.

One more to go.

The siren grew louder, then the fire truck careened down the driveway and roared to a stop. Ray had reached the third stall, but the terrified horse stomped his feet. “Come on, boy, we have to get out of here.”

The horse raised its front legs as he entered, whinnying and backing against the wall. Suddenly wood cracked and popped, and flames rippled along the floor in the front.

Then the scent of gasoline hit him.

Dammit to hell, had someone intentionally set the fire?

The horse jumped, his legs clawing at the air, his fear palpable.

“It’s okay, boy,” Ray said, forcing a calm to his voice to soothe the terrified animal. “I’m here. We have to go now.”

The horse whinnied again, and Ray pulled a rope from the hook and inched his way closer, speaking softly until the horse dropped to all fours and let him approach.

He gently stroked the horse’s mane, comforting him as he lifted the rope and slipped it around his neck. He slowly led him from the stall and out the back door.

Rescue workers jumped into motion shouting orders and dragging out the hoses. Brett’s truck barreled up and screeched to a stop.

Ray patted the horse’s back and eased the rope from his neck. “Go, boy, get out of here!” He slapped the animal, sending him into a gallop across the pasture.

Ray swiped sweat and soot from his face as he hurried toward the firemen and his brother.

* * *

SCARLET WAS STILL shaking over the encounter with Bobby an hour later. She massaged her wrist where he’d grabbed her, knowing she’d have a bruise on it tomorrow. And not for the first time.

Bobby had resented her from the moment Joe McCullen had brought her home to live with Barbara.

She hadn’t understood his reaction at the time. She’d been bounced from foster home to foster home and then she’d finally moved into the group facility, so being brought into a real family had thrilled her.

Until Bobby’s resentment had festered and he’d started making her life miserable.

First it had just been ugly comments, the surly attitude at meals and school. Then the more sinister threats he’d whispered when he’d sneak up behind her in her room.

She shivered and pulled on flannel pj’s as she recalled the time she’d crawled into bed and discovered a rattlesnake under the covers. Another time she’d found her bed full of spiders.

A month later, he’d tricked her into going with him in the car one night, then he’d left her stranded in the woods alone, with no way to get home.

Worse, there was the time he’d nearly drowned her in the pond.

Each time he’d threatened to kill her if she told anyone.

And Barbara...she’d doted on Bobby. Had felt sorry for him because he’d been deprived of the McCullen name and the opportunities that had accompanied it.

Although Joe had supported Bobby and tried to bond with him, it hadn’t been enough for Barbara or her son.

She’d believed everything Bobby said and justified his bad behavior with a joke about boys being boys. She’d acted as if Bobby’s violent outbursts were normal teenage behavior. And she’d blamed Joe for not being around all the time.

Barbara’s own resentment over the fact that Joe would never marry her had blinded her to her precious son’s sadistic side.

Just as she had every night since the snake incident, Scarlet turned down the covers and examined the bed to make sure no creepy crawler was waiting for her.

She breathed out a sigh of relief that the bed was clean. But Bobby’s cold look haunted her as she closed her eyes. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he learned what Joe had left him.

Even then, would it be enough?

And what would happen when he finally came face-to-face with his half brothers?

* * *

RAY RAN TOWARD the third barn to check for more horses with Brett on his heels. The first barn was completely ablaze, as flames climbed the front of the second.

Wind hurled smoke and embers through the air, wood popping and crackling. The firefighters were blasting both buildings with water, working frantically to contain the blaze.

“What the hell happened?” Brett yelled as he yanked open the barn door. “How did this start?”

Sweat poured down Ray’s face. “I don’t know. The first barn was on fire when I arrived. I ran to the second one to save the horses.”

Together they raced inside to free the terrified animals trapped in the stalls. The horses stamped and whinnied, pawing and kicking at the wooden slats. A black quarter horse protested, but Brett had a magic touch with animals and soothed him as he led him into the fresh air.

Ray eased a rope around a palomino that was balking and slowly coaxed him through the door and outside, then away from the fire.

“Go on, boy,” Ray yelled as he removed the rope and patted the palomino’s side. The horse broke into a run, meeting up with the other animals as they galloped across the land.

Sweat trickled down Ray’s neck as he and Brett rushed inside to free the last two horses.

When they’d rescued them, he and Brett stood and watched the firefighters finish extinguishing the blaze.

“I can’t believe this,” Brett said, coughing at the smoke. “We just got these buildings finished and settled the horses in last week.”

“The insurance was taken care of, right?”

“Yeah,” Brett said with a scowl. “But this will cost us time. I was hoping to start lessons in the spring.”

And time meant money. Not that Brett didn’t have some from his rodeo winnings, but he had invested a good bit into building a home for him and Willow and their son.

“At least we didn’t lose any horses,” Brett said. “I couldn’t stand to see them get hurt or suffer.”

That would have been a huge financial loss, too.

Ray gritted his teeth. “I smelled gasoline, Brett.”

Brett’s gaze turned steely. “You mean, someone intentionally set the fire?”

“We’ll have to let the arson investigator determine that, but it looks that way.”

Brett reached for his phone. “We should call Maddox.”

Ray shook his head. “Wait. He’ll be back day after tomorrow. We can handle this until then.”

Brett winced as the roof to the first barn collapsed. “You’re right. He should enjoy his honeymoon.”

“You said you smelled gas?” the fireman said to Ray. “I called our arson investigator. As soon as the embers cool enough for him to dig around, we’ll do a thorough search.”

The blaze was beginning to die down, although the first building was a total loss. The front of the second building suffered damage, but hopefully the interior and stalls had been saved.

“I should have had an automatic sprinkler system installed,” Brett said glumly.

Ray detected an underlying note of blame in his brother’s voice. “You couldn’t have known this would happen.”

The smoke thickened as the wind picked up. “Yeah, but it did.”

“We’ll discuss installing them in the future.”

Brett gave him an odd look. “I didn’t think you were going to hang around.”

Ray hadn’t planned to. But they still had the reading of the will and the bombshell about their father’s mistress and his son to contend with.

“I’ll be here for a while, at least until things get settled.” Which would probably be longer than he’d first thought.

Another siren wailed, and an official fire department-issued SUV barreled down the road. A sheriff’s car followed. Deputy Whitefeather had probably been notified by his 911 call.

Both vehicles careened to a stop, the deputy climbing out followed by a tall, broad-shouldered man in a uniform.

Introductions were quickly made. The arson investigator’s name was Lieutenant Garret Hawk.

“What happened?” Lieutenant Hawk asked.

“When I got home, I saw smoke and found the barn on fire,” Ray explained. “I called for help, then ran in to rescue the horses. That’s when I smelled gasoline.”

Lieutenant Hawk acknowledged the other firefighters with a flick of his hand. “It looks like you lost one barn and part of another.”

Ray nodded. “Thanks to your men and their quick response, or it could have been so much worse.”

“You think someone set the fire?” Deputy Whitefeather asked.

“Our builders certainly didn’t have gasoline out here,” Brett said. “But I don’t know who would sabotage us this way.”

Ray bit the inside of his cheek. The first person that came to mind was their half brother. If Bobby was ticked off and thought he’d been left out of the inheritance, maybe he wanted revenge.

Then again, if Bobby expected to inherit a share of the ranch, why would he want to damage any part of it? Destroying buildings would only lower the value of the property. And if he was caught, he’d face charges and go to jail.

Lieutenant Hawk moved closer to the edge of the burning embers. Ashes, soot, burned wood and leather covered the ground. He knelt and used a stick to push aside some debris. A cigarette butt lay in the pile.

“Any of you smoke?”

“Not me or Brett,” Ray said.

“How about ranch hands?” Lieutenant Hawk asked.

Ray and Brett and both shrugged. “It’s possible,” Ray said. “But they know better than to smoke around the hay.”

Deputy Whitefeather walked around the edge of the embers then went inside the second barn.

“Did your father have any enemies?” Lieutenant Hawk asked.

Brett shook his head, but Ray didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t ready to divulge the truth about his father’s indiscretion to a stranger, especially when Maddox and Brett were still in the dark.

He would investigate the half brother himself. If he’d tried to hurt them by setting this fire, Ray would make sure he never saw a dime of the McCullen money or any piece of the land.

Chapter Six

Scarlet jerked awake to the sound of the wind whistling through the small house. Startled, she sat up and scanned her bedroom.

Outside a tree branch banged at the window, and she shivered, still shaken by Bobby’s visit. Cool air brushed her skin, causing goose bumps to skate up her arms.

Wondering why the room felt so drafty, she tiptoed to the hall, but she froze at the sight of the open doorway leading to the back deck.

She had locked that door before she’d gone to bed.

Scarlet eased back into the bedroom and retrieved her gun from her nightstand. She checked the safety, then gripped it with clammy palms as she inched to the doorway.

She paused, cocked her head to the side and listened for sounds of an intruder. The wind ruffled the papers from the file on her desk in the corner, scattering them across the floor.

She scanned the small kitchen, but everything looked in place. Everything except the open doorway.

Her house only had the one bedroom and bath, and that bath opened both to the hallway and her bedroom. No one was inside.

The only hiding place would be the coat closet. Nerves on edge, she braced herself with the gun and inched to the closet. Her hand shook as she closed her fingers around the doorknob and twisted it. Holding her breath, she pulled it open, the gun aimed.

Relief flooded her. It was empty.

A noise sounded behind her and she spun around, gun still braced, but the sound was coming from outside.

She hurried to the door and searched the woods behind the house. Dogs barked, and a figure darted through the trees, but it was so dark it was impossible to see who it was.

Had that person been inside?

Shaken, she slammed the door, then knelt to examine the lock, but the lock was intact, not broken.

She locked it again and made a mental note to buy dead bolts, even a second lock for the top of the door.

Still, tension rippled through her. Why had someone broken into her house?

Her confrontation with Bobby taunted her, and she gritted her teeth. Tormenting her with scare tactics fit his sick, twisted style.

How many times when she was a teenager had he hidden in the closet or under the bed to frighten her? Once he’d even snuck into the back of the car and hidden. When she’d gotten in to drive to the store, he’d jumped up and acted as if he was going to choke her.

Shivering at the memory, she clenched the gun to her side, went to the kitchen and made a cup of hot tea. She couldn’t go back to sleep now, not with her heart still racing.

But as she passed through the room, she stooped to pick up the papers scattered on the floor.

It was a work file, one that had landed on her desk just last week. She’d been called to a domestic violence scene and had been forced to pull the two-year-old little girl, Sandy, from her home. The mother was deceased, and the father, Lloyd Pullman, had been entertaining a girlfriend. Both had been drunk and an argument had escalated into a physical altercation.

The neighbors had called to report the screams coming from next door. When she’d arrived after the police, the baby was soiled and crying, the woman bruised with a black eye. The father was in a drunken rage and in cuffs.

When she’d taken custody of the baby, he’d threatened to kill her.

She stacked the papers back in the folder with a frown. Was he out of jail now? If so, had he broken in to frighten her into giving him back his child?

* * *

THE NIGHT DRAGGED on as the firefighters finished work and watched to make sure the wind didn’t reignite the fire. They had started searching the debris for evidence of foul play and had found a gasoline can a few feet from the barn, tossed into a ravine.

“He probably wore gloves, but we’ll still check for prints,” Lieutenant Hawk said. “Hopefully we can pull some DNA from that cigarette butt.”

Ray made a mental note to find out if Bobby Lowman smoked.

“Can you think of anyone who’d want to do this?” Deputy Whitefeather asked Ray and Brett.

Brett raked a hand through his hair. “Not really. Although we might have ticked off the competition. Jebediah Holcutt started up an equine business last year. Breeds quarter horses and trains them.” Brett blew out an exasperated breath. “But this is big ranch country. It can easily support two ranches offering lessons and training.”

Ray considered the possibility. “True, but you’re a celebrity, Brett. Given the choice between lessons from you or Jebediah, who are people going to choose?”

Brett shrugged. His brother might be a celebrity, but he was humble. He’d even talked about setting up a camp for kids with problems, a therapeutic horse camp. His wife, Willow, had actually suggested the idea because her son, Brett’s little boy, had suffered trauma from being kidnapped and had blossomed under Brett’s care and tutelage in the saddle.

“I can check him out for you,” Deputy Whitefeather offered.

Ray and Brett exchanged a questioning look, but Brett gave a clipped nod. “Okay. Maybe we can figure this out before Maddox gets back.”

“Anyone else I should look into?” the deputy asked.

“Not that I know of,” Brett said. “But I haven’t been in town that long. If Holcutt didn’t do this, we’ll talk to Maddox when he returns. He would know best if Dad had any enemies.”

Ray remained silent, still contemplating Scarlet Lovett’s story about their half brother. He would check out Bobby Lowman.

“What about ranch hands?” Deputy Whitefeather asked. “Anyone have a beef with your father?”

“I doubt it,” Brett said. “Dad was always good to his employees.”

The deputy glanced at Ray, but Ray shrugged. “Like Brett said, we haven’t been back in town long.”

“What about that ex-con your father just hired?” the deputy asked. “The one that was in jail for the cattle-rustling operation?”

“Gus wouldn’t do this,” Brett said emphatically. “If anything, he owes the McCullens for clearing his name and getting him released so he could be with his family.”

“All right,” Deputy Whitefeather said. “Let me know when you talk to Maddox or if you think of anyone.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Ray’s forehead and he removed his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe it away. But his fingers connected with the card Arlis Bennett had given him.

“Come to think of it, I ran into a man named Arlis Bennett earlier. He took over Boyle Gates’s ranch and said if we were interested in selling to let him know.”

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