The Rancher Returns by Brenda Jackson Page A

consider it was Jesse James’s loot. To his way of thinking, since that area used to be a popular hunting spot, the camera had picked up nothing more than buried bullet shells.
    Layla refused to believe her research was wrong. There was buried treasure somewhere in the south pasture, she was sure of it. And as far as who would not want to see her succeed in this project, that could be a number of people, including her parents. But she didn’t for one minute think they would go so far as to sabotage the dig site. They were hoping failing at this would make Layla realize she should pursue medical school, after all. Then there was her older colleague Dr. Clayburn and others at the university who felt she’d been too young and inexperienced for such an expensive project. Did the person who removed the marker actually think she wouldn’t have kept the coordinates and just re-marked it? That she would give up so easily?
    She stopped pacing when she heard a knock on the door. The tightening in her stomach told her who it was. Why was Gavin here? She had spoken to Ms. Melody an hour or so ago when she’d called to invite Layla to dinner. Layla had regretfully declined, knowing she would not have been the best of company this evening. Besides, she needed distance from Gavin. Evidently he hadn’t taken the hint.
    The knock on the door sounded again. There was no need to pretend she wasn’t there when Gavin knew she was. Crossing the room, she opened the door to find Gavin with a tray of food in his hand.
    â€œAfter you told Gramma Mel you weren’t coming to dinner, she strongly suggested I bring you something. I believe she thinks I’m the reason you didn’t come to breakfast or dinner.”
    Layla moved aside to let him in. Tray and all. Especially the tray. Everything was covered but the food smelled good. “I’ll let her know that’s not the case when I talk to her tomorrow.” No need for him to know he had been a factor in her decision.
    â€œShe might not be here. Not sure when she’s leaving, whether it’s tomorrow or the day after.”
    Layla closed the door and followed him to the kitchen. “Leaving? Ms. Melody is going somewhere?”
    â€œYes, to a library convention in Cincinnati for a week. But I’m sure she won’t leave without saying goodbye. And if you expect me to take her place and make sure you don’t miss meals...that won’t be happening.”
    She frowned. “I never asked your grandmother to cook for me, Gavin.”
    He put the tray on the kitchen table and turned to her. “Don’t you think I know that?”
    â€œThen why did you insinuate otherwise?”
    â€œDid I?”
    She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, you did.”
    â€œThen I apologize.” She couldn’t help noticing how his gaze roamed over her. “You changed clothes,” he said.
    Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? Seeing his gaze had moved to her chest, she dropped her hands to her sides. “I showered.”
    â€œI know. You smell good. And you look good in that dress. Nice legs.”
    She would have appreciated the compliment if she wasn’t still so uptight about that marker being moved. “I want to go back out to the dig site tomorrow and look around, Gavin. This time I want to use my own detector.”
    â€œIf you’re still concerned about why the marker was moved, I might have a reason for that.”
    She came into the kitchen, trying to ignore the way he was checking out her legs and the way her nipples responded to his blatant appraisal. “What reason is that?”
    â€œClete. He’s an older man we hired years ago to keep the grounds clear of trash and debris as well as repair anything that needs fixing. That way Caldwell and the men can concentrate mainly on the cattle. When I mentioned the marker to Gramma Mel, she reminded me that Clete has a tendency to move