Free The Colton Ransom by Marie Ferrarella

face.
    “I wasn’t planning to ‘stick a Band-Aid on it,’” she informed him. For a second, he saw sparks in her green eyes, but then after a moment they faded. If she experienced a flare of temper, she had it sufficiently under control. “I just thought he might want some sympathy, and frankly,” she told him honestly, “I’m not really sure that you’re capable of giving it to him right now.”
    Trevor scowled at her, thinking she was making a snide reference to his distant attitude. Where the hell did she get off, passing judgment on him like that? “And why’s that?” he asked.
    Did she have to spell it out for him—or was he just trying to rub her nose in it again? How many different ways could she tell him she was sorry? “Because you’re dealing with your own problem right now, with having your daughter kidnapped and trying to get her back.”
    “And just what’s in this for you?” Trevor pressed. “Dispense a little sympathy, feel good about yourself? Is that how it works?”
    Was this making him feel better? she couldn’t help wondering. Did he get some sort of relief by making her feel even guiltier than she already did? Did he actually need to hear her say how sorry she was and how bad she felt again?
    Okay, Gabby decided, so be it. “Right now, I feel very responsible for what’s happened to Avery, so no, this isn’t to make me feel good about myself. That’s not going to happen until we get Avery back and probably not even then. But I can certainly show a man who’s just lost his mother some compassion.”
    “And I can’t?” he asked darkly.
    They had come full circle. Gabby raised her head, refusing to look away. Refusing to show Trevor that he was unnerving her. “No offense, but no, you can’t.”
    He’d expected her to crumble under the weight of his anger—and his terror for the little baby he’d barely got to know. Trevor felt renewed respect. “I’m as compassionate as the next guy.”
    “Possibly,” Gabby allowed. “If the ‘next guy’ happens to be a robot.” When her assessment of the limitations of his compassion earned her a glare, she told the somber-faced head of security, “Sorry, but that’s how I see it. You’re a lot of things, Trevor Garth, and you have a great many things going for you, but you do not ooze compassion, no matter what you think to the contrary. If my being there can help Dylan cope with the news even a little bit better, then I’m going with you—and you really can’t stop me.”
    There was no room for argument on this with her. She obviously intended to remain firm.
    Trevor shrugged, not about to waste his time or his breath. She was, after all, one of the boss’s daughters. “Suit yourself,” he told her in a voice that couldn’t have sounded more disinterested.
    But silently, Trevor had to admit to himself that he really did like her spirit. That’s twice she’d gone up against him and defied his instructions. Twice they’d gone head to head and she hadn’t backed off. A woman like that bore watching—and from where he was standing, that wasn’t exactly a hardship to undertake.
    Focusing back on Dylan and the news he was bringing to the man, Trevor quickened his pace to his truck. He wanted to get this over with even as he was dreading the actual interaction.
    * * *
    The relatively short trip from the ranch to the site of the rodeo was made that much longer by the silence within the hub of the truck. Silence that seemed to somehow elongate the miles and the time spent driving them. But finally, they arrived at the rodeo grounds.
    Without a show or any competition going on, the area appeared almost eerily deserted.
    “Where is everyone?” Gabby murmured, looking around.
    He could feel Gabby tensing up beside him in the 4x4. “Told you not to come,” he said, interpreting her body language. The woman must be having second thoughts. And he couldn’t blame her one bit. He dreaded every bit of this investigation—and