High Mountain Drifter by Jillian Hart Page B

the places around he could have chosen--other line shacks, abandoned buildings and sheds, stables and barns, Ernest had chosen this. It sent a message.
    Zane shook rainwater off his hat and moseyed over to the window. Had Ernest's plan to kill Verbena worked, then the sisters would have been tortured knowing it had happened so close. That she'd been taken and destroyed and disposed of right under their noses, that they couldn’t have stopped him. Ernest wanted that victory over them. He'd chosen this carefully.
    Which told him something else about the man. Getting a clearer picture, he leaned one shoulder against the wall, peering out the window. The glass steamed from his breath as he took in the lay of the land--the rapid fall of the hillside, the thick carpet of trees, the snowline a few hundred yards up, and the gleam of lamplight through the manor's windows below.
    You could see right into the library windows and one of the upstairs bedrooms. Zane shook his head, but that didn't stop the crawling sensation along the back of his scalp. Ernest had sat right here and spied on the sisters. Watched them sewing on a dress while sitting on the sofa, the way the strawberry-blond McPhee sister was doing right now. He could see all the way through the large upstairs bedroom, past the large four-poster bed into the hallway where a slant of lamplight shone from somewhere in one of the other bedrooms across the way.
    A perfect place to spy on Verbena and she'd never know it. A chill ran through his veins. Where was he now? That's what Zane needed to find out. Ernest had never gone far, and he never would. Likely he was out there close, at this exact moment noticing the rough looking stranger with three guns.
    "Game on," he said to the man out there undoubtedly watching. "I'm coming for you."

 
    Chapter Eight

     
    Late afternoon was one of Verbena's favorite times of the day. Everyone was puttering around the kitchen putting supper in the oven and pondering what else to make (everyone except Daisy, who was still at Beckett's cottage caring for him). The air rang with occasional laughter and happy conversation.
    "That dress you're making is going to be amazing," Rose said as she peeled potatoes at the counter. "I love that shade of blue. You always look so pretty in blue."
    "Not as good as you," Iris said sweetly, slicing carrots from the Rocking M's garden into neat little coins. "You have such golden blond hair, you look like an angel in blue."
    "I'm guessing Wade thinks so too," Magnolia chimed in, filling the potato pot with fresh water. "You two were on an awfully long ride today for a rainy day. That must mean something."
    "Yes, but what?" Rose reached for another potato to peel, trying to hide her blush. "Maybe it means that Wade has a terrible sense of direction and got lost taking me home."
    "The deputy has a fine sense of direction," Magnolia countered. "Don't think anyone here is going to buy that excuse."
    "Okay, so maybe we had a pleasant time." Rose blushed even more. "He took me along the back roads, even the one on the other side of the mountain. It was strange to think we were still on McPhee land. The Rocking M really is huge."
    "It's Aumaleigh's ranch now," Iris pointed out, smiling at their aunt, who was descending the curving staircase winding its way down from the second story. "Aumaleigh, Rose is telling us about her drive with Wade."
    "Wade is a fine man. I hope you kids had a nice time." Aumaleigh looked pale, her lovely face pinched, as if she were in pain. Maybe she was just tired.
    "Aumaleigh, maybe you'd like a cup of tea." Verbena abandoned the bowl of green beans she was snapping and headed for the cabinet. "You're staying for supper, right?"
    "I'd love to, but I promised Daisy I would swing by and help her fix the meal." Aumaleigh reached the bottom step, graceful as always, so tall and slim, and pushed a stray strand of molasses-dark hair out of her eyes. "When Beckett is up on his feet, we'll have