Free The High Country Rancher by Jan Hambright

her mind and body as she stared at him.
    He stood up. “I’d like to help you, but no one saw me on the fifth. I was riding herd in the high country. I saddled up before dawn and returned just after dark. I didn’t speak to a soul who can verify it, and my cow dog Bess isn’t talking.”
    A brief smile pulled at her mouth, but the seriousness of the situation pushed it down. “That’s all I needed to know. You’re free to go.”
    “I’ll never be free to go.” He stepped past her and she felt a charge build between them. The memory of his lips on hers as they lay in the grass was so vivid it tested her resolve, but somewhere in her mind she believed him. Baylor McCullough was an honorable man.
    “Will you take a polygraph?”
    “No.” He reached for the doorknob and she fought the urge to touch him. They’d already experienced intimacy, and she found herself drawn to him, but she resisted her primal urge.
    “Derrick Hastings is good.”
    He stared down at her, so close she could see the muscle along his jawline jump.
    “This is about Amy, isn’t it?” He leaned closer.
    Her heart rate shot up. “No.”
    His scent invaded her senses, a mix of outdoor air and the forest. Her desire hit overdrive.
    “What she did with Endicott was wrong. She was your wife. I don’t understand how she could do it when she had someone like…” The last word died on her tongue as she stared up at him. His eyelids closed slightly, his blue-gray eyes taking her in with a sultry gaze that could have dissolved granite.
    Mariah felt her knees go weak, overtaken by the seductive line of his body as he relaxed and leaned against the doorjamb.
    “Is that a hint of belief coming from you? A maybe-he’s-telling-the-truth admission?”
    Heat burned inside her and blazed onto her cheeks. “Murderers don’t usually go around saving lives. It’s not an admission, just an observation.”
    He smiled slow and easy, raising her level of desire to white-hot, just before the door opened and she nearly fell into the arms of the chief of police.
    “Detective Ellis. I need a word.”
     
    B AYLOR STEPPED OUT of the interrogation room into the hallway, but not before the sound of Chief Ellis’s raised voice hit his eardrums.
    He lifted his gaze to the exit sign at the end of the corridor and tried to stay focused as he put one foot in front of the other, listening to the sound of his own boots hitting the polished tiles. Every nerve in his body was ready to explode.
    Pushing through the double glass doors, he walked out onto the massive cement steps of the station. Hell, he didn’t even have a ride home, but somehow that didn’t matter. The world as he’d known it had just imploded with Amy at the center.
    Striding down the steps, he turned left on Main Street and started walking. Had she needed more attention? He’d always known the ranching life didn’t suit her. Too much solitude for someone as fun-loving as she’d been and not enough action to make her happy.
    A knot fisted in his gut as he mentally recalled the details of the pictures that Mariah had laid out on the table in front of him.
    Mariah. He had to believe the information had torn her apart as well. He’d caught a glimmer of pain in her eyes. That gut-level reaction when you discover you’ve misread someone’s moral compass.
    The toot of a car horn drew his attention, and he watched her pull her white sedan in next to the curb and roll down her window.
    “Need a ride?”
    He stopped walking and stared at her, watching the way the breeze moved her hair around her face. It was a face he liked.
    “It’s department policy.”
    “In that case.” He moved around to the passenger’s side and climbed in next to her.
    “I wouldn’t want to mess with policy.” He gave her a sideways glance and watched her smile again, something that eased the tension in his body to a level he could tolerate. He was pretty sure she’d gotten an earful after he’d dodged a bullet and left