Charlene Sands

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couldn’t let him kill again. She couldn’t. Her brother fell forward with the knife still clutched in his hand, a look of shock on his face before he keeled over.
    “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Tess cried, waking up startled, her body shaking. “Couldn’t let you kill again,” she pleaded in the dark. “I couldn’t let you hurt anyone else.” She thrashed back and forth, reliving that horrible scene. Disoriented, with those vivid images still playing in her head, slowly Tess regained some composure. She reminded herself that her brother had had no remorse, no humanity in his soul. Her brother had killed and would have killed again if she hadn’t stopped him. She had saved two innocent lives that night.
    But sometimes she’d think of Rusty in their youth, when their father’s ways hadn’t yet turned her brother mean and cruel. She’d think of him innocently playing outside, racing off to hide, hoping she wouldn’t find and tag him in their silly game.
    When she thought of him that way, her heart ached so much it sickened her for the loss of their youth. Those bittersweet memories lingered, and, sadly, Rusty hadn’t been that lovable boy for very long.
    She’d had nightmares before she’d married Hoyt but not since. Not until tonight. After she’d seen Clint.
    She wouldn’t credit him with too much. She’d taken a terrible fall yesterday. Maybe the trauma to her head and body had caused these hurtful memories to come back.
    Memories she’d never forget.
    Tess left her bed and poured rose-scented water onto a cloth. Dabbing her face and neck, she refreshed herself with the cooling water and the floral scents. Still reeling from the nightmare, she paced the floor. Night had descended onto the ranch, and all was quiet but the pounding of her heart.
    She found resting today had eased her achy limbs and restored her energy. Wide-awake now, she opened her curtains, and moonlight streamed inside, illuminating the room enough for her to dress into a skirt and blouse easily. Pulling her hair back in a yellow ribbon, grabbing a shawl and tidying herself a bit, she exited the room and strode down the stairs.
    Restless now after spending the entire day sleeping on and off, she didn’t know what she wanted to do or where she would go. She only knew she needed some fresh air.
    Wrapping her shawl around her tightly, she walked out the front door and her attention was immediately drawn to the water tower. She heard strange noises coming from that direction. Tess struggled to determine the cause of those sounds, and when she couldn’t rightly figure it out, she grabbed a lantern from the house and headed that way.
    She walked past the quiet bunkhouse, past the stables and beyond that, where only the muffled sound of Bucky Shelton’s sheepdog’s snoring reached her ears.
    From behind, a gloved hand covered her mouth. Startled, she stiffened with fear.
    “Shhh,” the man whispered in her ear, grabbing her around the waist and moving her across the yard, back toward the barn.
     
    Tess kicked him in the shins and he muffled a vile curse. Once he got them both to the side of the barn, Clint pressed up against her back, refusing to let her see him. “Quiet, Tess. It’s Clint. Now I’m gonna let go and you can turn around. I need you to listen. Agreed?”
    She hesitated, then nodded, her body shaking.
    Once he released her slightly, she whirled around, yielding the lantern like a flaming weapon. He caught it before she could knock him upside the head. Grabbing her wrist, he wrestled the lantern free and doused the light rapidly. “Damn it, Tess!” He’d muffled his voice, but couldn’t bite back his temper.
    “What are—”
    He put a finger to her lips. “Shhh!” he whispered. “There’s someone out there by the water tower, and I’m damn sure they weren’t relieving themselves up against the post. I don’t know who or what, but I planned on finding out before you came trotting outta the house, scaring

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