Free THE RENEGADE RANCHER by Angi Morgan Page B

about Brian.
    The Sloane house was far enough off the road, you could barely hear a car drive by. Even a muscle car with a muffler as load as Manhattan.
    Screeching tires. Then a shove to her knees kept her from turning to see the cars on the road.
    “Damn it, Brian. I told you not to go after him,” John shouted, slapping his thigh as he stood straight.
    “I take it he didn’t listen to you?”
    “Never does.” He stepped a little farther away from her now that he wasn’t playing Brian for the man in the van. “Let’s head inside.”
    “Aren’t you going after him?”
    “In what? Brian’s truck? That thing belonged to our granddad. There’s no way I’d ever catch them.”
    “Then you should call the police.”
    “Yeah, about that. The police won’t be stopping Brian Slone, they’ll be stopping John Sloane, who will probably say I’m running off more reporters.”
    “You’ll explain that in a slightly less cryptic way once we’re inside?” She was totally lost. They had a problem with reporters, too? The questions about why the police wouldn’t help spun her around harder than a wipeout in Malibu.
    “Sure.”
    They sat at the table again and Alicia joined them. The plastic wrap was removed from Lindsey’s pancakes and they were popped in the old microwave, which took up a third of the kitchen counter.
    “Mrs. Cook was the coolest teacher in school,” John began. “She let our class hang out on her property. We had plenty of fires there in a pit her husband had used at one time. Nothing ever happened until the night she died.”
    Alicia laced her fingers through her husband’s. “My guy here,” she patted his hand, “was about to leave for the Navy and we were arguing about what would happen. He was upset, fought with Brian and they both stormed off. They didn’t speak for twelve years.”
    “Back then we shared the truck and always left the keys in it. I needed some time so I spent the night alone. Brian came back to the Cooks’ place in the morning. But witnesses saw our truck leaving the actual fire.”
    “It wasn’t stolen?” she asked. “And neither of you left in it?”
    “That’s right. For twelve years I thought Brian drove it home and he thought it was me. You see, it was our responsibility to put the fire out that night. It spread to the barn where they found Mrs. Cook—”
    “My second cousin.”
    “Everyone thought she tried to put the fire out and the barn collapsed on her. She had massive head injuries.” Alicia continued the story. “Brian took the blame for the accident. He didn’t want anything to stop John from getting into the Navy.”
    “He said he did it, even though he thought you were responsible for it spreading?” This morning, the brothers had moved together as though they’d never been apart. What must it have been like back then when they hadn’t been separated for twelve years? “Wait, that still doesn’t explain why the police won’t help him.”
    “This town blamed Brian for Mrs. Cook’s death and treated him like a convicted felon even though it was ruled an accident,” Alicia explained, while John’s knuckles turned white in a death grip. “He lost a full scholarship to college and each time something goes wrong in town, the cops blame him.”
    “Like for Lauren’s kidnapping? I did some research of my own.”
    “They arrested him, then tried to beat a confession out of him before he made it to the jail.” John’s look turned to steel. He might say he was a rancher, but the man in that chair was every inch a Navy SEAL. “He still hasn’t told me how many times it happened over the years.”
    “Too many,” Alicia whispered.
    “But he’s a paramedic, he helps save lives.”
    “No one knew that except Alicia and Dad. Everyone else thought he was a drug dealer.”
    “You aren’t serious?” She couldn’t believe it. That shy cowboy/paramedic? “How could anyone get that impression from that teasing smile of his? I’ve