Midnight Sins (27 page)

in Corbin County, footloose and fancy-free is all we

have.”

It wasn’t as though a future were going to happen

with any of the fine ladies in Sweetrock or at the

outlying ranches. Too many people knew their pasts.

There were too many of the fine citizens of Corbin

County willing to follow any and every order the

barons gave.

The barons. His grandfather, James Corbin

Rafer, Marshal Roberts, and Logan’s grandfather

Saul Rafferty. The three largest ranch owners and

three of the most powerful financial families to reside

in Colorado. Their ranches were the size of small

countries. Each ranch resided in a different county,

but strangely something tied the three patriarchs of

these families together. A loyalty and friendship that

spanned decades, fluctuating riches, and the

temperaments of three power-hungry men.

Logan sighed. “There’s always Aspen. Lots of

pretty ladies there. Who says we have to pick from

Corbin County anyway? Hell, we might get tired of

footloose and fancy-free.”

There was an edge of regret in Logan’s voice, as

though he’d actually had someone in mind. Someone

he knew he couldn’t have. Hell, Crowe just hoped it

wasn’t who he thought it was. That was just going to

turn into a mess if it was.

“What about your neighbor?” Crowe looked back

at Logan, restraining the knowing mockery in his tone.

“She’s not from Sweetrock.”

Logan’s eyes widened in shock and male

outrage. “That O’Brien girl? Hell no! I watched her tear

that builder Ken Stiles’ ass up one side and back

down the other a few days ago. Accused him for ten

minutes of milking hours on that back porch he was

building for her. She was right in his face, that little

finger shaking like a weapon, and she was ready to

use it.” He gave a mock shudder. “I think I prefer

something a little softer. A little less temperamental.”

Crowe snorted. “You mean a little less able to

kick your ass when you’re acting like an ass?”

Who the hell did Logan think he was fooling?

“That’s cold, man,” Logan sighed. “So cold.” His

eyes twinkled in laughter. “But so fucking true.”

“And this weather is fucking cold.” Crowe couldn’t

feel the cold; the Thinsulate he wore was military

issue and would keep him warm at far colder

temperatures.

Where he felt the chill was in his spine, a sure

sign that things were going to go from sugar to shit

soon. And that chill had the power to send ice

coursing through his veins. The last damned thing they

needed, no sooner than they returned to Corbin

County, was trouble. Especially when women were a

part of that trouble.

“Think we should disturb the little lovebirds?”

Logan suggested. Anticipation filled his voice, as did

amusement. Logan sometimes seemed years

younger than his age.

“I think someone should,” Crowe said as he

turned his gaze back to the house. “This will be over

soon, and when it is, the whole town of Sweetrock will

converge on him once they learn where Miss

Flannigan had been forced to stay during the storm. I

think Rafe could probably use the backup if that

happens.” Especially considering the fact Cami’s

uncle was a part of that road crew.

“Protection is more like it,” Logan retorted. “Talk

about a man with his dick and his heart tied up in

knots. Our little cuz is there, I believe.”

But then Crowe had a feeling Rafe had been

there for a while; he just hadn’t been aware of it. There

had been too many chance meetings between Rafe

and Cambria over the years. Too many near misses.

And in the past few years there were too many times

Rafe had obviously been watching, waiting, for

someone who hadn’t shown. His anger then had gone

soul deep.

“Well, the road crew isn’t far from finding the car,

or making their way to our little cousin’s love nest. I

guess the kindest thing we could do is warn him, don’t

you think?” Crowe drawled.

Logan’s curse sizzled through the line, seconding

Crowe’s thoughts and sending a wave of tension to

clench his jaw and tighten his muscles.

Breathing out roughly, Crowe twisted the handle

grip of the powerful machine he’d ridden down from

the mountain, listening to the low, carefully muffled

power that vibrated through the machine. He’d

modified the machines himself, his as well as his

cousins’, to ensure the power that vibrated and

throbbed through the motors was silenced as much

as possible. Worst-case scenario, he would bank the

power and speed and run at near silence if absolutely

necessary.

There were times that more power and more

sound could be a life-threatening hindrance. And

times that any sound could mean certain death.

“Let’s go see if we can help him unknot his dick

then,” Crowe said as he gave a hard twist of the

opposite grip and shot down the mountain, carefully

balancing his weight, watching the terrain and

landmarks for known hazards beneath the snow,

aware Logan was riding in his tracks.

Exactly where Crowe needed him to ride.

Crowe had done this all their lives, going first to

clear the way for the other two. All but once. Rafe had

managed to race ahead of Crowe just one time, and

they hadn’t been the only ones who had paid for

Crowe’s lack of speed. Jaymi Flannigan Kramer had

paid with her life, and her death had left a mark on

their souls ever since.

“He’s not going to be happy with us,” Logan

promised, the wry humor coming through the earpiece

he wore as Crowe navigated around the heavy trunks

of the sheltering trees.

“But he’ll live, and that’s the point.” Actually, that

was really all that mattered to Crowe. That Rafe and

Logan lived, stayed free, and managed to find some

small portion of happiness.

Crowe hadn’t been certain that returning to

Corbin County was the best way to achieve that, but

he knew it would never stop haunting them, that the

nightmares wouldn’t cease until they faced what had

happened there and the consequences of it.

And if he was lucky, very lucky, then Crowe

himself intended to face whoever or whatever had

begun the events that had destroyed all their lives

twelve years before.

* * *

Rafe paused the coffee cup halfway to his lips as a

low muted sound reached his ears.

He knew that sound. There were two

snowmobiles approaching the house, and he knew

the sound of the muffled motors, barely discernible

above the sound of the wind howling outside the

house.

The storm was over, the sun rising to a crisp, icycold

morning and reports of crews beginning to move

out in force to dig out drivers and houses alike from

the massive amount of snow that had fallen.

That had been hours ago. He was living on

borrowed time where his time with Cami was

involved. That borrowed time could run out at any

time. Any moment. But he’d expected his time to run

out with the road crews slowly making their way from

the road to the ranch house, with only one purpose in

mind, and digging him out wasn’t it.

He knew of plenty of times that those same road

crews had refused to do more than pile more snow at

the mouth of the graveled road that led to the house.

He hadn’t expected his time to run out in the form

of his cousins’ arrival, though. Especially Crowe’s.

Grimacing, Rafe pulled extra coffee cups from

the cupboard, set sugar and creamer in the middle of

the table, and glanced toward the stairs that led to the

second floor.

Cami was showering.

She had borrowed a razor, and the water in the

shower had only just begun running. He might get

lucky and his cousins would be gone before she

finished.

He had a feeling it would be the other way

around. His cousins would arrive and wouldn’t leave

until after she did. That was more the way things

ended up working for him.

His fist clenched at the thought of her leaving. At

the thought of not holding her in his arms when he

climbed into his bed. Of not being there to share that

first cup of coffee, even if she was madder than hell at

him.

And he sure couldn’t use the kitchen table

properly if she wasn’t there, he thought with

amusement as the snowmobiles moved quickly

toward the house.
Damn, Crowe and his tinkering

with the vehicles’ motors
. They were now twice as

fast and twice as powerful as they had been when the

cousins first bought them. That meant if Crowe were

of a mind to, he could easily get Cami back to town.

Just as Rafe could have.

It wasn’t long before the steady, hard throb of

power eased into the yard, pulling up to the small area

of shoveled show that Rafe had worked on as Cami

slept that morning.

He opened the door, standing behind the glass

of the storm door as his cousins stepped off the lowbuilt

machines and looked up at him.

He almost frowned. They were dressed in the

lightweight, ultra-cold-weather gear that Crowe had

managed to procure in the military as he worked in

some of the coldest climates in the world. A ride from

Crowe Mountain to the house wasn’t long enough and

the weather really not cold enough—was it?—for the

snow camo outerwear.

Rafe stepped back as Logan reached the porch

and watched him grip the door handle and lazily pull it

open.Even his eyes were hidden behind the dark

goggles until he stepped inside, stripped off his

gloves, then eased the goggles from his face.

He would have to make certain he thanked

Logan nicely for slipping out, obviously well before

dawn, to inform their cousin Crowe of Rafe’s

houseguest.

Logan’s dark pine-green eyes were filled with

laughter as he stripped the cold-weather gear and

hung it carefully on the specially made hanger at the

side of the door. Crowe was following suit, but unlike

Logan, his eyes weren’t filled with laughter. He was

staring around the kitchen and living room carefully,

no doubt noting even the slightest change to the

rooms since he had been there the week before.

“You two are out early,” Rafe stated as he moved

back to the coffeepot, slid the decanter free, and set it

in the center of the kitchen table, close to the cups,

sugar, and cream.

“Not early enough, it would appear,” Crowe