Montana Sky

tub.”
    “In the tub. Eat in the tub?”
    “Why the hell not?”
    Willa spared Tess one smirking glance. “Why the hell not?” she agreed, and stumbled her way upstairs to strip.
    Lily had the water steaming and frothy with bubbles. Naked, Willa stared down at it for a full ten seconds. A bubble bath, she thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a bubble bath. The big scarlet tub had been one of her father’s indulgences, and she’d rarely used it. And then only when he’d been away.
    He was away now, she reminded herself. Dead away.
    She swung a leg over the side, hissed as hot water met chilled skin. Then with an enormous sigh, she lowered herself to the chin.
    She emptied her mind of snow, of wind, of the raging dark, the brutal fight to round up cattle. They would have missed some, and they would lose some. That was inevitable. The blizzard had come in too fast and too mean to prevent that. But they had done their best.
    Her muscles wept as she laid her head back, closed her eyes. Can’t think, she realized as her mind clicked on and off. Had to think. What to do. Every movement, every chore, every decision made come morning would be instinctive. She knew what to do there. It wasn’t her first blizzard, nor would it be her last.
    But murder—murder and butchery.
    What to do.
    “Fall asleep in there and you’ll drown,” Tess said from the doorway.
    Willa sat up, scowling. She wasn’t particularly modest. The scowl was for the intrusion, even if it did include the heavenly scent of stew. “You ever try knocking?”
    “You left the door open, champ.” Rather amused at her role of server, Tess settled the tray across the tub. “I want to talk to you.”
    Willa only sighed. She scooted up enough to manage the meal, dipped a spoon into the stew while bubbles melted off her breasts. “So talk.”
    Tess sat on the wide ledge of the tub. Quite a bathroom, she mused. It was as plush as any movie star’s fantasy withits ruby, sapphire, and white tiles, its forest of ferns in brass and copper pots. The separate shower was walled in clear glass, boasted half a dozen showerheads at different angles and heights. And the tub where Willa was lounging was easily big enough for a small, tasteful orgy.
    Idly she dipped a finger into the bubbles, sniffed at them. “Violets,” she commented. “Must be Lily’s.”
    “You want to talk about bubble baths?” Willa scooted up higher as she gained more enthusiasm for the meal. She could have eaten a truckload of stew.
    “We’ll leave the girl stuff for later.” She glanced over as Lily came to the doorway, her gaze politely fixed inches above Willa’s head. “I’ve got your robe, for when you’re finished. I’ll just hang it on the back of the door.”
    “Come on in, have a seat,” Willa invited with a wave of her hand. “Tess wants to talk.” When Lily hesitated, Willa rolled her eyes. “We’ve all got tits here, Lily.”
    “And hers are barely noticeable, anyway,” Tess added with a smug smile. “Have a seat,” she ordered. “You’re the one who wanted to bring her in on all of this.”
    “All of what?” Willa demanded with her mouth full.
    “Let’s just say Lily and I are a little nervous. Wouldn’t you agree with that, Lily?”
    Flushing, Lily lowered the lid on the toilet and sat. “Yes.”
    Despite the heat of the water, Willa’s skin chilled. “You two planning to bolt?”
    “We’re not cowards.” Tess inclined her head. “Or fools. The three of us have equal interest in getting through this year. I assume we all have equal interest in getting through it in one piece. Somebody, very possibly somebody on this ranch, is—let’s say knife happy. How do we deal with it?”
    Willa’s mouth went stubborn. “I know my men.”
    “We don’t,” Tess pointed out. “Maybe we should start by you filling us in. Telling us what you know about each one of them. As appealing as it sounds, the three of us can’t travel in a pack twenty-four hours a day for the next nine or ten months.”
    “You’re right.”
    The careless agreement caused Tess’s mouth to drop open. “Well, well, I must mark this day on my calendar. Willa Mercy agrees with me.”
    “I still can’t stand you.” Scraping her bowl, Willa continued. “But I do agree. The three of us need to cooperate if we’re going to get through this. Until the police, or we, find out who killed Pickles, I don’t think either of you should wander around