Page 5 of Killer on the Homestead (Bent County Protectors #2)

Duncan spent the next few days getting settled into his new life. He bought a truck. Bought some new clothes more suited for life on the ranch. He unpacked one box, but that was depressing as hell, so he ignored the rest.

He ate dinner with his parents every night. He hadn’t been planning on that, but Mom seemed to expect it, and he couldn’t deny he was worried about his parents. It didn’t sound like any more cattle had disappeared, and he hadn’t heard from Rosalie at all.

But he’d thought about her. And not in an is-she-researching-missing-cattle kind of way. More like, is she single and is this too complicated?

He had a demanding life, or he’d had a demanding life, so he was very well versed in what he liked to call risk management when it came to women.

Rosalie was intertwined in his parents’ life. That one fact was reason enough to keep his thoughts to himself. But thoughts—and fantasies—never hurt anyone, did they?

When Dad said he was going back out to check the fences with a couple of his hands before sundown, Duncan offered to help Mom with the dishes even though it was usually Dad’s job.

If he cast back among all his memories of his parents, it was that simple after-dinner routine that made him feel the most centered, the most…

home. Dad sitting on a stool at the sink, rinsing off dishes and putting them in the dishwasher while Mom put the leftovers away and cleaned up the cooking debris.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Rosalie about the cattle?” she asked as he dutifully put plates in the dishwasher.

“She said she’d look into it.”

“It’s been days.”

“Maybe it takes days to look into stuff.” Though he supposed he could call her tomorrow. Test the waters.

The investigation waters. Nothing else. He tossed the detergent pod into the dishwasher and closed the door. When he turned to his mother, she was holding out a paper grocery bag.

“Why don’t you go on over to the Young house. Take this over. That Audra runs herself ragged. It’s always my pleasure when I can send some extras her way.”

Mom had already packed up a bag of their dinner leftovers—leftovers they only had because Mom no doubt had made enough to ensure there was food left to take to the Youngs.

She shoved it at him. He grabbed it with one arm, his other arm throbbing.

He considered using it as an excuse, but before he could, Mom looked at his sling. Considered.

“Well, I suppose I can do it. I’m supposed to lead the church meeting tonight, but…”

“I’ll do it,” he grumbled, not letting her take the bag back.

“Only if you’re sure you’re up to it. I’m sure driving with the sling isn’t comfortable and—”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s my boy.” She patted his cheek. “I’m going to go wash up. You run that out to them before they eat.”

He knew he’d been maneuvered when she bounced off like she’d never had a care in the world about his arm. He was going to have to relearn how to fend off his mother’s machinations.

But for this evening, he took his punishment and the food and drove the access road from the Kirk house to the Young house, cursing his shoulder every time he hit a bump, or when he had to get out and open and close the gate.

It hurt like hell, but at the same time it felt better than those first few weeks when he’d just been moping around his place in LA. Something about fresh air, sunlight, and mountains, maybe.

Or maybe it was just being home.

He drove onto the gravel lane that wound up to the Young place. Unlike his childhood home, their house looked exactly as he remembered it. A little on the small side, with a big rambling porch. Mountains rose up in the distance, like guarding sentries looming over everything.

Two redheads sat on the porch swing, heads bent together. One—Audra, he was guessing—had her legs crossed and was sitting upright. The other—Rosalie, definitely—was lounging, using her bare foot, which was on the porch railing, to move the swing back and forth.

They watched as his truck approached, then him.

Rosalie was drinking a beer out of a bottle, and Audra had a glass of something.

They didn’t look a heck of a lot alike, except for their coloring.

Both were redheads, though Audra’s ran closer to brown.

Both had those too-blue eyes, though Audra’s were smaller and closer set than Rosalie’s.

Audra was tall and willowy, he noted as she got to her feet.

Then swatted her sister when she didn’t do the same.

“It’s good to see you again, Duncan,” she offered politely, as she walked over to the top of the stairs. Rosalie stayed on the swing and said nothing.

“You too, Audra.” He held up the bag. “Hope you guys didn’t eat yet. Mom sent me over with leftovers.”

“Thank God ,” Rosalie said under her breath, earning her a scolding look from Audra.

“ You could learn to cook,” Audra said to her sister as she took the bag from Duncan.

“Can’t. No patience,” Rosalie replied, and it was clearly an old argument without much heat. But she flashed a grin at Duncan as she said it that made a disconcerting bolt of lust go through him.

Disconcerting because her sister was right there, and because she was connected to his family in a weird kind of way. And with the cow-investigation thing, it certainly wasn’t smart to be distracted by a quick smile and pretty eyes.

But even with those alarm bells ringing, it was kind of a relief, because it had been a long time since anything—including a woman—had distracted him from his laser-beam focus.

“Thank your mom for me, Duncan,” Audra said. “We really do appreciate everything she does for us.”

“She likes it, or she wouldn’t do it, but I’ll tell her.”

“I’ll just go put this away. And I’ll warn you to run out of here rather than spend even a second in small talk with my feral hog of a sister.”

“Hog?” Rosalie huffed. “Rude.”

Audra just smirked and went inside. He watched her go, noting more differences in the sisters. Audra didn’t have that… swagger Rosalie wore like a second skin.

Rosalie cleared her throat, and he turned his attention to her, but she didn’t say anything. So he did.

“Y’all should have a guard dog.”

“Franny’s allergic.”

“Who’s Franny?”

“Oh, our other roommate. Our cousin on our mom’s side. Besides, who needs a guard dog when we’re all carrying and excellent shots?” She grinned at him, all sharp angles and implied threat. “Audra wins sharpshooting trophies on the regular.”

Maybe there was something wrong with him that he was very interested in every last one of her implied threats.

She finally got up off the swing and walked over to the steps.

“Sorry I haven’t been in touch. Had another case get hot.

I did do some initial looking into everything though.

I haven’t forgotten about you. Just haven’t found much to go on.

Except I did run background checks on some of your dad’s ranch hands.

He’s got a newer one. Owen Green. He had a few brushes with the law when he was a minor. ”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth looking into, but most of the younger guys who work for my dad are his brothers’ or cousins’ ne’er-do-well kids. Mom calls it Norman’s Camp for Wayward Boys.”

Rosalie chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve heard the complaints. I didn’t realize this one was one of his though.”

“Pretty sure Green is a North Dakota cousin. But by all means, look into him. I don’t trust them any more than my mom does.”

“Will do, boss.”

“So how much do I owe you? Or do you just bill me when you’re done? And make sure it’s me. I don’t want Mom seeing the cost.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Free of charge.”

“I thought I could afford it.”

“Audra lectured me about how great your parents have been to us since…” She trailed off, never finishing that sentence.

But he knew. Maybe he hadn’t remembered all the details, but Mom had been filling him in.

When Tim Young had died, it came out that he’d been having an affair for quite a few years.

He had a whole second family out in Cheyenne no one had known about.

Then his actual wife had left the girls with the ranch, not wanting to be around anything that reminded her of Tim.

Including her daughters.

Apparently the Young girls— women , he had to keep reminding himself—had tried to make some overtures with their half siblings in the time since, but that hadn’t worked out.

Audra popped her head out of the door. “Duncan, have you eaten? You’re more than welcome to come in and join us.”

“No, I ate. Thanks. Enjoy the food. I’ll see y’all around.” He gave a bit of a wave, and one last glance at Rosalie, then turned back to his truck. He was about halfway there when Rosalie spoke.

“Hey, one more thing.” She hopped down the stairs and took a few strides toward him. Then, when she was out of earshot of the front door, she spoke quietly. She pointed a finger at him. “You check out my sister again and I’ll castrate you.”

He supposed he should take that as the warning it was meant to be. He supposed he should let the comment slide and get out of there. But she was standing there, chin lifted, arms folded over her chest. The falling sunlight made her hair look especially…fiery.

He supposed a lot of men were intimidated by her. Maybe he should be. But he couldn’t seem to find it in himself. “What if it was you that I was checking out?”

He watched her wrestle with something, hoped at least a little of that mischievous sparkle in her eyes was humor, not castration plans.

“Audra’s got too soft a heart. Me? Mine’s titanium. I can handle myself against the likes of you.”

“That feels like a dare, Red.”

This time, she couldn’t quite stop herself from smiling, though he watched her try. “I’ll be in touch, Ace ,” she said, then turned on a heel and strode back inside.

And, yeah, he checked her out the whole way.

He’d been flirting with her. Not uncommon. While Rosalie intimidated some guys, some took her attitude as a challenge. Duncan seemed to be the latter.