Page 4 of Fatal Deception
He had an abrasiveness but she worked in a male-dominated industry—even if it was a lot of solitary hours. She helpedwith the agricultural society. She entered target-shooting contests. All more men than women. It was hardly that every male rancher in Bent County was somehow nice and good andnotabrasive. It was just a different kind. The kind she’d been learning to handle her whole life.
There was…an assessing nature to Copeland. In some ways, Bent County residents’ distrust of him seemed to match his distrust of them. He made no overtures, no attempts to fit in or smooth over a challenging attitude—deserved or not.
He was just…himself. Andhimselfdidn’t seem to fit in Bent County. But he didn’t leave. And he was a good detective.
That was all she needed. She didn’t need him to be like Thomas. She didn’t need to be his friend—it rather worked in her favor that he wasn’t. She just needed an answer. And instead of turning her away, laughing at her, or doing what any of her family or friends would have done—gone into overprotective mode—he’d taken on the case.
So there was that.
She just kept picturing the urn with her name on it. Ithadto be a mistake, but that was someone’s very expensive mistake. And when she paired it with the other things…
Well, it was Copeland’s mistake to figure out now. She was free of it.
She really wished that was true.
Back home on the ranch, she threw herself into work. She had already spent the morning breaking ice on the cattle troughs before heading into the police station, but now she needed to work on feeding and getting the protein supplements organized for tomorrow.
She skipped lunch, because she just didn’t have time for it. And if she went in and warmed up, it would be even harder to motivate herself to go back out into the cold.
By the time she walked back to the house for the night, she was exhausted and starving. Food. Shower. Bed. God, she hoped she’d actually sleep tonight.
The sight of Natalie Kirk on her front porch brought twin feelings—one of relief, since Natalie almost never came empty-handed, food-wise. And one of dread, because Audra just wanted to be alone and not fussed over.
She was on the brink of a breakdown, and she could mostly blame it on lack of sleep and food. But there was a layer of stress she couldn’t seem to let go of that meant she was always a bad night of sleep or a skipped meal away from a breakdown.
But she fixed on a smile, lifting her hand in a wave until she was close enough to call out a greeting.
“Brought by some leftovers,” Natalie said. “I still haven’t adjusted to Duncan not being here.”
Which was a lie. A kind one, but a lie nonetheless. Duncan had spent his entire adult life, aside from holidays, chasing and succeeding at his professional-baseball-playing dreams far away from Wyoming. He’d only returned to Bent County and the Kirk Ranch last year, when his career had ended. And even then, she doubted he’d eaten every meal at his parents enough for Natalie to besoused to making food for three.
Still, Audra would take it, as she always did, no matter Natalie’s excuse. “You’re the best.”
Natalie smiled, but as Audra got closer, she saw a strain in Natalie’s expression.
“Audra. Norman came across an issue with the fence this morning.”
Audra paused midstride up the steps before forcing herself to finish climbing the porch stairs. Just a portion of her fence was the boundary between hers and the Kirk Ranch. “No damages, I hope?”
“No. A few of yours had wandered over, but Norman and Mac got them back on your side and the fence patched up.”
“Why didn’t he call? I would have…”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. He was there with Mac already, so they handled it. No harm, no foul. We just wanted you to know what happened. If you go by that area of the fence, you’ll notice the repairs.”
Ranching was hard work. Full of failures and setbacks. Ever since she’d taken over for her parents, Audra had worked hand in hand with Norman when it came to their shared boundary line. The Kirks had been like surrogate parents or tried to be. As much as Audraletthem be.
She knew she should not feel ashamed or like she’d made some kind of mistake. These things happened.
But she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “I’ll expect a tally for my half. I’ll write him a check.” She said this firmly. So there’d be no argument. Nocharity.
“Audra. Come on now.” Natalie put her arm around Audra’s shoulders. Audra stiffened against the contact. Not that it wasn’t nice. Just that if she leaned too much into it, she might break. Or cry, which seemed just as bad in the moment.
“I know you want to handle things on your own,” Natalie said gently. “My God, I understand it. But you’ve got to let us help now and again. It’s the neighborly thing to do, and even if we weren’t neighbors—for all your life, I might add—we’re family now. Besides, it’s our fence as much as yours.”
But Audra knew, she justknewby how careful Natalie was being, that this was somehow her mess that Norman had cleaned up, and if there’d been any way to hide it from her, they would have. “You’ve been too good to me.”
“There ain’t no such thing as too good, sweetheart.” Natalie squeezed her once more, then pointed to the bag by the door. “There’s your dinner. Make sure you eat it. I hate you being overhere by yourself. You don’t take care of yourself when the girls aren’t here to poke at you.”