Helen stared intently at the necklace. “Wyoming jade,” she said softly, looking directly at Riley. “From the Rivertons. Where did you find it, dear?”
Lincoln smiled and hugged his wife. “You recognized the stone, Helen.”
“Oh good grief, Lincoln, you’re acting like I’m an idiot. Of course I know Wyoming jade when I see it. That’s the stone Mr. Riverton found when he first dug in that hole in the ground. Beautiful.” She smiled.
“Gram, do you know who the necklace belongs to?”
Thayne didn’t mention Cheyenne; he didn’t want to influence his grandmother in any way. Because of the gaps in her memory, Gram sometimes fit facts together that seemed logical. Thayne couldn’t afford for that to happen now.
“The necklace is supposed to be a big secret.” Gram took the evidence bag from Riley. “Cheyenne told me about the diamond clasp. She was right, truly beautiful. Of course, that’s not why she treasures it so much.”
Thayne met his grandfather’s shocked gaze over Gram’s head.
“The necklace belongs to Cheyenne?” Riley voiced the question Thayne couldn’t form. “You’re absolutely sure.”
“Without a doubt.” Gram lowered her voice and leaned in to Riley. “You know, dear, Cheyenne is enamored with that young Riverton boy. But we can’t talk about it until Cheyenne gives the all clear. My granddaughter made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone until she knew her feelings were real.”
Helen clucked her tongue at Thayne. “You should take this to your sister, dear boy. She’ll be sick in the heart at losing her true love’s gift.”
“Sure thing, Gram.” He stood and kissed his grandmother on the cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Oh, get on with you, dear boy.” Helen took Riley’s hand in hers and tugged slightly so Riley stood up. “You two make a lovely pair.”
“Yes ma’am.” He grasped Riley’s hand. “See you later. We need to return Cheyenne’s necklace to her.”
“Not yet, you’re not leaving, young man.” Helen beamed at them, slipping her hand into Lincoln’s. “You’ve kept your feelings for your wife-to-be secret far too long. I’m tired of waiting to see if you’ve found the real thing. Like my Lincoln, here.”
“Gram?” Thayne could barely speak.
“Kiss her, honey.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Riley couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. Heat rushed up her cheeks, and she stared at Thayne’s grandmother. What was she supposed to say?
Desperately she searched out Thayne. He appeared just as stunned. And . . . good grief, was her Navy SEAL blushing? She couldn’t believe it, but yes, even his cheeks had reddened.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Gram shoved Thayne toward Riley. “I know you two have kissed. At least once. I saw you at Fannie’s.”
Thayne stumbled into Riley, obviously not expecting the push. Riley reached out, and her hands went flat against his broad chest. Somehow he ended up toe-to-toe with her, looking down. The heat from his body seeped into hers, and her heart pounded. She moistened her lips, unable to escape his heated gaze.
She supposed she’d expected a small kiss, a platonic kiss, in front of everyone.
Instead Thayne cupped her cheek, wrapped his arm around her, and pressed her against him.
Her breath caught. She’d tried to keep their relationship professional, but her fear that he’d been shot had fractured the well-constructed walls around her heart. Thayne’s grandmother had just shattered what little remained.
Riley kept expecting someone to make a joke, to say something, anything, to help them extricate themselves from this embarrassing situation, but no one said a word. Thayne didn’t release her, and Riley simply gave in. She had no desire to pull away.
Beneath her touch, Thayne’s muscles tensed. She gripped his shirt to steady herself.
His brown eyes captured hers, intoxicating her. His pupils dilated. Time slowed. Seconds seemed like minutes. Everyone but Thayne fell away from her view.
They could easily have been alone in her room instead of surrounded by God knew how many people. With his finger, he tilted her chin up and slowly, deliberately lowered his mouth to hers.
She could have pushed him away; he would’ve let her go, but Riley gave in to his touch, to the feelings that had been simmering inside for so very long. Her eyes fluttered closed. Her lips parted until his kiss captured her mouth. Very gently he begged entrance, his tongue dancing against her übersensitive lips.
She clung to him, leaning closer. Thayne Blackwood certainly could kiss. She’d forgotten how well, but her body remembered. Her heart skipped a beat. Her blood pounded in her head. Her knees trembled, and low in her belly, she tingled with memories of his touch. She belonged in his arms. She always had. No point in denying the truth.
A series of wolf calls and whistles finally pierced the haze. Thayne must have heard them, too, because ever so slowly, he lifted his head.
She didn’t see the humorous twinkle in his eye she’d expected. No, this was something very different, almost cautious. He blinked, and she watched him paste a pleased grin on his face. And yet, the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Satisfied?” he said to his grandmother, still holding Riley against his hardened body.
Helen beamed at them. “I knew you had it in you to fall in love, Thayne. A waltz lesson is a must-have now. So you can dance at your wedding.”
Thayne leaned over and kissed his grandmother on the cheek. “You’re right. I definitely need to polish up the waltz. But right now we have a job to do.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “Come by before dinner. We’ll practice.” Gram looped her arm through Lincoln’s. “How about we rehearse a bit, my love? And then explore our favorite rendezvous. Thayne and Riley have inspired me with a few ideas.” She cut her husband a saucy wink.
Lincoln chuckled. “You’re mighty frisky for a Sunday.”
Riley couldn’t remember seeing the Blackwood patriarch grin so broadly since she’d met him. He was obviously devoted to Helen. In sickness and in health.
Helen and Lincoln Blackwood truly loved each other. The real kind of love. The kind Riley had never believed existed.
He raised his wife’s hand to his mouth and turned it over, pressing a kiss into her palm. “It’s a date, my love. As soon as the rest of the first shift comes in and we feed those hungry folks lunch.”
Helen frowned. “I hope they find that poor Wallace girl. Only twelve years old. It’s a shame.”
And just like that, Thayne’s grandmother stepped back into the past, fifteen years earlier.
“That’s why Riley’s here, Gram. To help us find her,” Thayne said, easily shifting into his grandmother’s reality. He took her hand in his and folded his fingers through hers.
How many men would be so kind to someone so vulnerable? How could she not fall head-over-heels in love with a man like him?
The reality of her thoughts froze Riley. No, it couldn’t be true. The Blackwoods had turned her belief system upside down.
Thayne bent down to Riley’s ear. “Keep Gram busy while I talk to Fannie and tell her about Kade. Then we’ll head to the Rivertons’.”
Riley nodded and eased over to Thayne’s grandmother.
“He’s a good boy,” Helen said.
“I know, ma’am.” Riley took in Fannie’s response to Thayne’s news. He steadied the older woman with a hug.
“Thayne might be a strong warrior on the outside, but his heart is soft and caring. Don’t hurt him, Riley. You could be the first woman I’ve met who actually can.”
She had no idea what to say. As far as Riley was concerned, Thayne was the one who could tear out her heart. If she allowed herself to feel too much.
Thayne took a bag and thermos from Fannie. “Are you ready?” he asked.
One look at the twinkle in Helen’s eyes, and Riley grabbed the thermos. “More than,” she said, and hurried toward the vehicle, Thayne right behind her.
“What spooked you?” he asked as he slid in beside her.
She glanced over at him. “Umm . . .”
Thayne grinned as he put the car in gear and headed toward the highway. “Gram. She doesn’t have much of a filter these days.”
Heat rushed into Riley’s cheeks. “I can’t be mad at your grandmother.” She gripped her seat belt. She was in Singing River to bring Cheyenne Blackwood home alive. With each passing hour, that looked less and less likely.
“I know what you mean. It’s pretty much impossible,” Thayne said, and gunned the accelerator down the freeway, lights flashing their urgency.
She hoped the Riverton lead led somewhere. Her so-called expertise had taken them nowhere. Riley prayed the necklace would bring Cheyenne home.
“How about breaking out those sandwiches? You need to eat, and I’m starved. We’ll be on the Riverton land before long,” Thayne said.
Relieved to have a distraction, Riley opened the bag and pulled out the remainder of their lunch. One bite into the sandwich, and the snap of spicy mustard layered on the turkey hit her tongue. She washed down the food with iced tea. “Do you believe your grandmother? About the necklace being Cheyenne’s?”
“Would I surprise you if I said yes?”
“Can you trust her memories?”
Thayne didn’t speak for a few minutes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “One of the doctors described the disease in a way that helped me. Picture a spiral of memories that begins in the center when you’re a child. A solid line circles outward with each year, laying down memories. Alzheimer’s cuts gaps in the solid line. Some of the newest memories disappear, while some are still there. Then, bit by bit, the disease works itself backward, destroying memories in reverse. Gram will forget us, then the memory of Mom will fade, then Dad. Eventually Pops, and finally her siblings and parents. At the end, her brain will cause her to lose the ability to eat, drink, and swallow.”
Riley gaped at him. “I had no idea. How terrifying.”
“Yeah. It’s our memories and experiences that make us who we are. Alzheimer’s rips away what defines a person piece by piece. There’s nothing good about the disease. Not one damn thing.”
Thayne’s voice grew thick. Riley had believed she understood a bit about what the Blackwood family was going through. She’d been so very wrong.
She hated to ask her next question, but she had no choice. “Then how can you believe your grandmother about Cheyenne’s necklace?”
“If Gram repeats new information enough that it makes its way into long-term memory, it’s there. For a while, anyway. I think that’s what happened with Cheyenne’s
boyfriend
.” Thayne growled out the word. “Gram would’ve become obsessed with Cheyenne getting married. She’s a true romantic.”
“It makes sense,” Riley said. “Whoever took Cheyenne knows the back roads and where the phone was dumped, and the Rivertons own the land.”
The side of the road transformed from open spaces to a series of posts. “Speaking of which, we’ve now crossed the edge of Riverton Ranch.”
“Their land must be thousands of acres.”
“Try more than thirty thousand acres, almost fifty square miles.”
Thayne’s satphone interrupted them. “Blackwood.
“Hudson.” Thayne listened for a moment. “Hold on.” Thayne punched the speaker for the phone. “Repeat that for Riley.”
“Cheyenne’s been seeing someone for the past six months or so. She refused to tell me who. The only reason I knew was I stopped by her place on the way home from a buying trip. She wouldn’t let me in. I heard jazz playing in the background, and she couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. I got the picture. She shut me down when I asked her who the guy was. Figured she didn’t want Dad or you running a background check.”
“I never—”
“Don’t try to deny it, Thayne. I might have threatened a horny football player a time or two, but once I left for school, you one-upped me. Everyone knows what happened to Cal Riverton when he put the moves on Cheyenne and blabbed about it. He didn’t show his face in school for a week.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Thayne grimaced. “I just gave him a shiner. He was too embarrassed to show his face at school knowing a guy three years younger got the best of him. I didn’t hurt him that badly. Besides, he made Cheyenne cry.”
“Yeah, Dad made you pay for it, though.”
Thayne scowled. “Had to work a whole summer for the Rivertons, the first week at no pay.”
“Hold it,” Riley said. “Is Cal the guy you think Cheyenne’s dating?”
“What the hell?” Hudson shouted.
“Cal left Wyoming, headed for California, and started some tech company,” Thayne said. “He hasn’t been back in years. I’ve got my money on Brett. He’s a year older than Cal, runs the Riverton Ranch, and keeps trying to buy out Pops. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s dating Cheyenne to get hold of the land.”
Thayne didn’t bother hiding his dislike of Brett Riverton.
“Just find her, Thayne. Call as soon as you know if Brett’s behind this,” Hudson said and ended the call.
The car reached a large stone and iron arch denoting the Riverton Ranch. Riley’s gaze narrowed. “Those are high-tech cameras,” she said.
“We also passed several motion detectors over the last mile,” Thayne added, his tone dark. “Looks like Brett put them up recently.”
“You noticed the stirred-up dirt at the base of the poles, too?”
Thayne nodded.
“Do most ranchers use cameras?”
“Quite a few. Rustlers, smuggling, but these are different.”
The SUV rumbled over a cattle guard and turned in to a large ranch house surrounded by several buildings, including a barn, stable, and training facility.
“I thought you said the Rivertons were in to mining?”
“Money breeds money. Brett’s passion is training quarter horses. He used to ride the rodeo when he was a teenager. Until his father disappeared. Rumor has it Riverton Senior got into debt to some mob guys gambling in Vegas and never came home.”
Thayne pulled onto a long drive toward a large stone house.
Riley sat up straight in her seat. “Did you notice the men by the barn?”
“Armed guards. Even for Brett Riverton that’s strange.” Thayne stopped the car and checked his weapon. “Guess this won’t be a simple interview.”
He threw on his jacket to camouflage the holster and got out. Riley walked beside him, her back and shoulder muscles tensed. She could feel the hands watching. She glanced to her right, then her left, uneasy. Too many guns, and her arm still stung from a bullet wound.
“There are at least three watching,” Thayne said.
He knocked on the door. A too-thin ranch hand answered the door, his eyes cautious. “What can I do for you, Deputy Blackwood?”
“We need to see Brett.”
The man clicked his teeth. “Probably not a good idea. Come back later.” He started to push the door closed.
Thayne widened his stance and stopped the movement with his arm. “Shep, I don’t have the patience to spar with you right now. My sister is missing, and I’m interviewing Brett now . . . or I arrest him on suspicion of kidnapping.”
The guy’s skeleton-like face twisted, his visage bordering on horrific. Riley had seen the look before. The man probably had cancer.
“Let him in. I planned on visiting the sheriff after lunch anyway,” a tired voice sounded from across the room.
“But Mr. Riverton, you’re not well—”
“Don’t argue, Shep.”
“That’s right, Shep. Let us in.” Thayne shoved past the man.
Riley followed at his elbow, but once across the threshold, their steps faltered.
Surprise flickered through Thayne’s eyes.
A man, face creased with pain, leaned on a cane and walked across the floor. He appeared decades older than Thayne had implied. Brett Riverton was obviously very ill. Maybe dying.
And Thayne clearly hadn’t known.
“Damn, Brett. What the hell happened to you?”