“You say that, but you’re not the only one with theories. Mine is you’ve never gotten over him.”

“No, I never have.”

Tansy lifted her hands. “How can you handle it?”

“I’m still figuring that out. The bad day was, apparently, a day for a shift in status. He brought me chicken and dumplings. And he kissed me. It’s not a buzz with me, Tansy. It’s a flood, that pours in and fills me up.” She laid a hand on her heart, rubbed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. If I sleep with him again, will it help me tread water until I can finally get to solid ground? Or will it just take me under? I don’t know, but I’m not going to pretend the odds aren’t strong that I’ll be finding out.”

Steadier for having said it out loud, Lil set her mug down, smiled. “I’ve got a powerful yen for him.”

“You’re-what was your word? Unwrapped. You’re unwrapped over the man who walked away from you and broke your heart. And I’m unwrapped over a farmhand with a rubber-band grin.”

“And we’re the smart girls.”

“Yeah. We’re the smart girls,” Tansy agreed. “Even when we’re idiots.”

COOP WORKED WITH the pretty buckskin mare he’d trained over the winter. She had, in his estimation, a sweet heart, a strong back, and a lazy disposition. She’d be happy to snooze in the stall, paddock, or field most of the day. She’d go if you insisted, if she was sure you really meant it.

She didn’t nip, she didn’t kick, and she would eat an apple out of your hand with a polite delicacy that was undeniably female.

He thought she’d do well with children. He named her Little Sis.

Business was slow in these last stubborn weeks of bitter winter. It gave him time-too much of it-to catch up on paperwork, clean the stalls, organize his new home.

And think about Lil.

He knew she had her hands full. Word got back to him through his grandparents-from her parents, from Farley, from Gull.

She’d come by once, he’d heard, to return his grandmother’s dish, and visit awhile. And she’d come by when he’d been in town, doing a stint in the storefront office.

He wondered if that had been accident or design on her part.

He’d given her space, but he was about done with that now. Those loose ends were still dangling. The time was coming to knot them off.

He started to walk Little Sis toward the barn. “You worked good today,” he told her. “We’ll get you brushed down, and maybe there’ll be an apple in it for you.”

He’d have sworn her ears twitched at the word “apple.” Just as he’d have sworn he heard her sigh when he changed direction and steered her toward the house when he saw the county sheriff step out of the back door.

“That’s a pretty girl.”

“She is.”

Standing, legs spread, Willy squinted up at the sky. “The way the weather’s clearing up, you’ll have her and the rest under the tourists and on the trails before long.”

Coop had to smile. “This is one of the few places I know where eighteen inches of snowpack and drifts taller than me would be considered clearing up, weather-wise.”

“Yeah, haven’t gotten anything falling since the last storm. Clearing up. Spare me a minute, Coop?”

“Sure.” Coop dismounted, looped the mare’s reins around the porch rail. Hardly necessary, he thought. She wouldn’t go anywhere she wasn’t told to go.

“I’ve just come from seeing Lil over at the refuge, and figured I owed you a stop-by.”

Coop could see it clearly enough in the man’s face. “To tell me you’re hitting dead ends.”

“To tell you that. Fact is, what we got is a dead cougar, a thirty-two slug, a buncha tracks in the snow, and a vague description of someone you saw in the dark. We’ve been giving it a push, but there’s not much to move along.”

“You got copies of her threat file?”

“Yeah, and we’ve been following up on that. I rode out and spoke personal to a couple of men who went by the refuge a few months back and gave them some trouble. Don’t fit the physical, either of them. One’s got a wife swears he was home that night, and through the morning-and he was at work nine on the dot in Sturgis. That’s verified. The other runs damn near three hundred pounds. I don’t think you’d’ve mistaken him.”

“No.”

“I talked to a couple rangers I know, and they’ll be keeping an eye out at the park, spreading the word. But I’m going to tell you like I had to tell Lil, we’re going to need a serious run of luck to tie this up. I gotta figure whoever it was is gone. Nobody with a lick of sense would’ve stayed up there when that storm came in. We’ll keep doing what we can do, but I wanted to tell her straight. And you, too.”

“There are a lot of places a man could wait out a storm. In the hills and in the valley. If he had some experience, some provisions, or some luck.”

“That’s a fact. We made some calls, checking if somebody who looked like they’d come off the trail moved into one of the motels or hotels around here. We didn’t get anything. Her camera’s been up and running since, and nobody’s seen anybody around the refuge-or the Chance place-who shouldn’t be around.”

“It sounds like you’ve covered everything you could cover.”

“Doesn’t close the book on it, though. Open book keeps my palms itchy.” Willy stood a moment, looking out at the snow, the sky. “Well. Good to see Sam up and around. I hope I’m tough as him when I get his age. If you think of anything I need to know, I’ll be around to hear it.”

“I appreciate you coming by.”

Willy nodded, gave Little Sis a pat on her flank. “Pretty girl. You take care, Coop.”

He would, Coop thought. But what he needed to take care of was at the refuge.

He dealt with the horse, so Little Sis got her rubdown and her apple. He took care of the rest of the chores, ones as routine to him now as dressing every morning. Because there would be coffee hot and fresh, he went into his grandmother’s kitchen.

His grandfather walked in, without his cane. Coop fought down the urge to comment, especially when Sam gave him a quick scowl.

“I’m still going to use it when I go outside, or if my leg gives me trouble. I’m just testing things, that’s all.”