Frank Culhane might have deserved to die. But her brother wouldn’t have killed him. Roper had respected the man. They’d worked well together. And even if that weren’t true, Roper was no killer.
But what about the incident with the semi? Was someone trying to kill him? Something wasn’t making sense.
When she had a chance to talk with her brother alone, she would face him down and force him to tell her everythinghe was holding back. She wasn’t a child. If Roper was in trouble, she would support him any way she could.
Roper had returned, carrying an extra lead rope, which he handed to Hayden. The next horse to unload would be Millie, leaving the wildly struggling Fire Dance for last. As the two men approached, Millie tossed her head and backed against the rear of her box. She whimpered as they got the ropes on her. Dread tightened Cheyenne’s throat. She knew horses. Millie was in pain.
She stifled a moan as Roper and Hayden led Millie out of the stall. The beautiful white-faced filly was limping painfully. Her right hind leg, visibly broken, jutted at an angle.
Roper’s throat moved as he swallowed his emotion. “Let’s get her to a stall and send for the vet.”
“Do you think a vet can save that leg?” Hayden asked. “I’ve seen injuries like that. It might be kinder to put her down.”
“We’ll see.” Roper’s expression masked his thoughts, but Cheyenne knew that he had to be devastated. “She’s Lila’s horse,” he said. “After I get the vet’s opinion, Lila can make the final call.” He turned to Cheyenne. “Keep an eye on Fire Dance until we get back. Don’t get too close. He could kill you, given the state he’s in. If you’re worried about him, lower the door.”
“Leave Hayden here with Fire Dance,” Cheyenne said. “I can help you get Millie to a stall and stay with her for the vet.”
“Fine.” Roper passed Hayden’s lead to Cheyenne. “Damn it, there’s a place reserved in hell for the driver of that truck!”
“We need to talk about that—and a few other things,” Cheyenne said.
“Not now. Let’s go.” He led the limping Millie off the ramp with careful steps.
Cheyenne walked close, supporting the filly’s injured side. Her eyes misted as she stroked the satiny neck. “Oh, Millie, darling,” she whispered, “I’m so, so sorry.”
Roper sat on a bench outside the arena, watching the setting sun bleed crimson streaks across the desert sky. The barn, with its 1,200 climate-controlled stalls, was swarming with activity, but here, the evening was quiet. With the rig safely parked in the trailer strip, Cheyenne had gone to dinner with Hayden. They’d invited him along, but Roper had no appetite. After the hellish afternoon, it was time to phone Lila. He dreaded giving her bad news. But she’d be waiting for his call, and he needed to hear her voice.
In a world that seemed to be spinning out of control, Lila had become his anchor. She was as strong as she was beautiful—a widow who could have her pick of wealthy, respectable men. Why she would choose a simple cowboy with bad luck dogging him like a hungry coyote was more than Roper could fathom. He would take the love she gave him, but he had his pride. He wouldn’t claim her under the law and heaven until he could offer her the life she deserved. That meant clearing the murder charge and making a name for himself as a trainer and money-winning rider. He hoped Lila would wait. But he wouldn’t blame her if she came to her senses and walked away.
She would have been here with him now. But before the trip, she’d stumbled against a wheelbarrow of loose hay, reached out to steady herself, and been struck on the arm by a small rattlesnake. After antivenin treatment in the hospital, she was recovering at home, under the care of her daughter, a nursing student at Texas Christian University. But Roper was still worried about her. He wouldn’t breathe easy until he made sure she was all right.
He needed to talk with her for another reason. That sideswipe on the freeway had been no accident. The driver had meant to cause a deadly crash. Only luck and the fast-moving traffic had kept him from finishing the job.
There was no question that the man had been paid. Roper could imagine why and by whom. Maybe Lila could confirm that his hunch was right.
He scrolled to her number and made the call. Her husky “Hello” stirred a tightness in his chest.
“It’s me, Boss.” The last word emerged as a caress. “How are you? Resting in bed, I hope.”
“Actually, I’m on the patio, by the pool, with a glass of iced tea. Gemma’s been hovering over me all day. I told her I needed some time alone. I was hoping you’d call now. How was the drive to Vegas?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. But first I want to know about you. How’s the pain?”
“Not too bad. I’m mostly just feeling tired. But I’m beginning to think fate has it in for me. I’ve been rolled in a car, knocked down by a horse, bitten by a rattler … Heavens, what’s next? I feel like a magnet for disaster.” She gave a wry chuckle. “That’s enough whining from me. How was your trip?”
Roper steeled his emotions. Lila had been hurt repeatedly. He was about to hurt her again. “Before I tell you about the trip, I need answers to a couple of questions.”
“Go ahead.” A note of caution had crept into her voice.
“How many people knew about your plan to drive to Las Vegas with me?”
She hesitated. “Not many. Mariah knew, of course. And Gemma—I always let my daughter know where I’ll be.”
“You didn’t tell Darrin and Simone?”
“No. Why should I? We’re barely on speaking terms. But Mariah could have mentioned it to them—or even passed it on to Madeleine if they’re in touch.”
Lila’s answer matched Roper’s suspicions. Mariah, the Culhanes’ longtime cook and housekeeper, was loyal to Frank’s first wife. She also kept in touch with Frank’s son and daughter-in-law. If they’d known about Lila’s plans, they would have expected her to be in the truck with him.