A cowboy with a lot to prove meets his match when he falls for a mysterious beauty...

The truth about his family’s past has always haunted rancher Frankie Hastings. Determined to prove what happened more than a century ago, the black-sheep brother plans to chronicle the story in a documentary. But a mysterious descendant connected to that truth could jeopardize everything. So charming Kate West becomes the first step in securing her support. Falling for the gorgeous skeptic is a welcome follow-up. And yet, despite their electric attraction, it’s clear Kate’s mind is filled with things beyond their sizzling kisses. Then his simple project turns deadly and Frankie has more questions than answers. Like how far will he go to protect the woman he suddenly can’t live without?

He could not shake the feeling something was wrong or deny his desire to try to get her to open up.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, still holding on to her pack.

“It shouldn’t take me long,” he said. “I’ll be back before noon.”

“Noon,” she repeated as though committing it to memory.

“Yes. Well, good night,” he said, and damn if he didn’t feel a pull toward touching her lips with his, and double damn if she didn’t seem to broadcast the hope he would do just that.

They both stepped back at the same time. As he walked down the short hallway back to the kitchen, he heard the door close and the lock click behind him.

He’d never been around a woman who sent so many mixed messages. Messages he was desperate to explore.

Cowboy Cavalry

Alice Sharpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ALICE SHARPE met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes, numerous cats and a few special dogs. Alice and her husband now live near Portland, Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing. Please visit her at www.alicesharpe.com for information about upcoming titles.

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CAST OF CHARACTERS

Frankie Hastings—The youngest of the Hastings brothers, Frankie has been living with secrets his whole life—not only his but his mother’s unrevealed past, as well. A run-in with an enigmatic beauty fuels his desire to take back his future. Now the goal becomes making sure they both survive to see it.

Kate West—She’s desperately trying to keep her ailing grandmother afloat. When an opportunity to ensure security arises, she vows she’ll take it no matter the cost to her peace of mind; she doesn’t count on the cost to her heart.

Dave Dalton—He has something he wants to talk to Frankie about, something that could change everything. Is it true a dead man can’t tell tales?

Gary Dodge—A producer intent on helping Frankie realize his dream to film a documentary about a one-hundred-year-old event. Is that his only intention?

Jay Thurman—He represents a part of Frankie’s past that Frankie has tried to overcome. He’s back now, meaner than ever, more determined to get “what’s his,” and he doesn’t care who he has to destroy to do it.

Patrick Lowell—The documentary team’s fuddy-duddy historian is positive there’s gold buried on Hastings land. If he’s right, its discovery will make a heck of an ending for the film.

Ed Hoskins—Does this numismatist hold the key Frankie needs to unlock the deadly mystery of his past?

Gerard, Chance and Pike Hastings—Frankie’s brothers swear to stand—or fall—together.

Sara Kane—This grieving daughter has a hundred thousand reasons to support her conviction that her father did not commit suicide.

This book is dedicated to my family, who make

everything worth doing. I love you all.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Kate took a seat at an outdoor waterfront table and settled back to wait. She was purposefully early, wanting time to catch her breath, to go over what she would say and how. Normal life as of late afforded few opportunities for introspection and as she closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun, she realized she was a little rusty when it came to intrigue.

No matter. She may have grown up here in Seattle, but she’d spent the last eight years in Arizona and appreciated the rare May warmth currently caressing her skin. When was the last time she’d been free to just sit for a few moments without distraction? She couldn’t remember, and even now, the urge to get back prevented her from fully living in this moment.

“Kate West?” a male voice inquired and she opened her eyes with a start. She glanced up to find a man of about thirty staring down at her. Sun-streaked brown hair combed away from his forehead framed bluish gray eyes that echoed the water sparkling behind him.

“Yes, I’m Kate,” she said.

“I knew it.” His smile was dazzling as he offered his hand. “Gary Dodge told me to look for a stunning blonde.”

“You must be Frank Hastings,” she said, suppressing laughter and an eye roll. She was well aware she looked dog-tired, worn-out and frazzled.

“Please, call me Frankie,” he said as he released her fingers. “May I sit down?”

She nodded and watched as he took a seat across from her. She’d seen his picture so she’d known he was attractive, but the photograph hadn’t caught the energy pulsing through his body. It also hadn’t caught the lively curiosity behind his eyes. Her confidence in her ability to stay one step ahead of him took a nosedive as he returned her gaze with open appraisal.

She knew that along with his father and brothers he ran a huge ranch in Central Idaho. Assumedly, he had picked up the golden tan of his skin the honest way, by being outside but there was also something decidedly uncowboylike about him, too, and that was interesting.

He smiled again as though aware she was sizing him up. The whites of his eyes and teeth almost glowed in his face and she found herself comparing him to her ex. She looked down at her hands immediately. Thinking about an ex-boyfriend wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She warned herself to concentrate on her grandmother.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

She ran fingers across her brow and shook her head. “No.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” he added as a waiter showed up. He ordered crab cakes and a salad, without glancing at the menu. She ordered iced tea and nothing else. “I’ve heard about your...issue with our project,” he added after the waiter left. “I’m anxious to set your mind at ease.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, of course. Why do you say it like that?”

“It seems kind of hopeless,” she said. “Gary, your producer, has already tried to convince me how wrong I am. I’m afraid you drove all the way here from Idaho for nothing.”

His eyes narrowed a hair. “Just give me a chance,” he said as her tea and a basket of bread appeared on their table.

“Listen,” she said, tearing off a hunk of sourdough, hoping it would settle her stomach. Darn nerves. “I understand that my eleventh-hour objections to this movie—”

“Not a movie,” he said. “A documentary.”

“What’s the difference?”

He shrugged. “Pretty vast. A movie can be pure fiction or a takeoff on known facts. Either way, liberties are taken. A documentary sticks to the truth, not conjectures.”

“Truth as interpreted through a human lens,” she said.

“You mean the angle the director decides to emphasize?”

“Yes.”

“That’s true, but this is all pretty cut-and-dried stuff. One hundred years ago, four men robbed the bank in what was once known as Green Ridge, Idaho. That’s a fact. Two days later, three of them were caught by a posse—Samuel and Earl Bates and a guy called William Adler. They were taken back to the big oak tree two miles outside town and hung. That’s a sad fact, but a fact nonetheless. The fourth man got away. It’s generally assumed he took all the gold with him.

“The robbery more or less killed Green Ridge, though in all truth, the mine was close to playing out. A few years after the town emptied, a new generation of gold diggers found a small vein, but nothing more. All that remains now is a dead mine and a ghost town both of which are on our land, practically in our backyard. And the hanging tree, of course. Our historian has found two descendants of men who might be the elusive fourth man. I spoke to one of them last week and he said he had something pretty special to show me. It’s an exciting time.”

She’d chewed on her chunk of bread while he spoke. It wasn’t helping her nerves at all. She already knew everything he’d told her and she was certain he knew what she was about to say, too. Gary Dodge would have told him. She said it anyway.

“What you have to remember,” she began, “is that my great-great-great-grandfather Earl Bates and his brother, Samuel, were two of the men killed by that vigilante posse. It’s well-known they received no trial and there was no hard evidence against them. They may have been innocent—they certainly deserved better justice than hysterical murderers taking the law into their own hands. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to keep you guys from glorifying their killers.”

“We have no desire to glorify anyone or anything,” Frankie said, and for the first time, his voice reflected irritation. She knew that both Frankie and Gary Dodge had worked on this project for over a year. It was important to them. Seeing Frankie’s less polished side made dealing with him both easier and more difficult for her: easier because his feelings were involved and who better than she knew how that could warp a person’s judgment? Harder, because she could feel his enthusiasm and that made him a little irresistible.

“Maybe not,” she protested, “but it’s not too difficult to imagine that’s exactly what will happen. I’m the last of my family. For decades, Samuel and Earl have just been footnotes no one really cared about. Your project has the potential to change that.”

“And perhaps give meaning to their deaths,” Frankie said suddenly as though he’d just thought of this angle. They were both silent as his meal was delivered. It looked delicious, but Kate didn’t think she could have eaten it even if she could afford to buy it.

Frankie ignored his plate. He sat forward. “You’ve brought up some interesting facts. I’ll make sure they’re addressed.”

Now you’re just being glib, she thought as she shook her head. “No,” she said. “The truth is I have an appointment to meet with your backers very soon. If they don’t walk away, I’ll keep talking until somebody listens.”

Frankie stared at her for a minute. It was obvious his mind was racing. She could almost picture him running along a hall, throwing open door after door, looking for the right response that would get her to change her mind. She’d expected this from him—she’d been warned that he was formidable when thwarted.

“Okay, here’s the thing, Kate,” he said at last. “You’re young and smart and articulate and maybe worse, from our point of view, you’re very pretty. Social media will love you. You may not have a lot of legal ground to stand on when it comes to stopping us, but you could do damage with negative publicity. More than that, though, our backers are a cautious lot. They’re going to come to the same conclusions I have when they meet you and I’m afraid they’ll get cold feet. This matters too much to me to risk that. What can I do or say to change your mind?”

“Nothing,” she insisted.

“There has to be something.”

“No,” she said. “There doesn’t. I tried to warn you.”

He took a breath. “Please, can’t you just be reasonable?”

“You’re calling me unreasonable?”

His jaw tightened. “You’ve brought up interesting points, I admit that, but they can be dealt with fairly. We work with a dedicated researcher, a historian, who checks all our facts. We aren’t interested in rewriting history. Can you say the same?”

She put down her fork. This guy was conceited or was that her guilty conscience making excuses for her own motivation? She picked up her tea glass and took a sip, giving herself a chance to calm down, check her watch and take a deep breath. “I understand that making this documentary is important to you,” she said. “You grew up with this story, you live close to where it all happened—it’s intimate to you in a way it isn’t for me. This is all I can do to honor the memories of the men who died without the opportunity to defend themselves.”

“Believe it or not, I have empathy for the men who were hung. It was a gruesome way to die. Can’t you find it in your heart to trust me with their story?”

“I sense you mean well,” she said carefully, “but I don’t know what the rest of your family is like and according to Mr. Dodge, they play a big part in this thing.”

He steepled his fingers and gazed at her. “I have an idea,” he said at last.

“What is it?”

“Come to Idaho. Meet my father and brothers, and Grace, my stepmother. You’ll love her, everyone does.”

“Your father,” she said slowly. “What kind of man is he?”

Frankie appeared surprised by her question. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked it.

“A decent man,” he said. “A man who puts his family first.”

“Family first,” she mumbled. “Over everything?”

“What do you mean?”

“Over his land, for instance? Over money?”

Frankie’s brow wrinkled. “I’m sorry, Kate. I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, and straightened her shoulders, figuratively if not literally. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Three. All older.” He sat back. “None of us have a secret agenda of any kind. We just want the past recorded in a fair and honest way. This story has always fascinated me. Come meet everyone. Come get to know the countryside where this happened, walk the dead streets of a once vibrant town, get a feel for the folks who lived and loved there, understand their struggles and that includes your own relatives. In other words, come back to Idaho with me.”

“Now?” she said. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him. Would this be easier if he wasn’t so good-looking? Maybe.

“As a matter of fact,” he added, as though sweetening the deal, “on my way home I’m stopping to meet with one of the descendants I told you about. You’re welcome to come along and meet him, too.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Just to get a feel for our approach. The man I’m talking to is the great-great-grandson of a guy named Matthew Dalton. Dalton was a lawyer in Green Ridge. He married a woman named Mary two days after the robbery and they left town the day after that. Accounts hint it was all very sudden. Maybe he was the fourth man, who knows? Hopefully we’ll learn something that can help us piece together the truth. Will you give me a chance, say a week or so to try to awaken a little curiosity in you?”

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

“If it’s your job—”

“I... I work at home,” she said quickly. “There are arrangements that would have to be made, of course, but it’s not that. My car is kind of on its last legs...”

“You can ride with me.”

“It’s not the getting there that worries me,” she said. “I just don’t know how comfortable I’d feel on your turf.”

“Well, you can leave whenever you want, of course.” He shook his head and added, “I didn’t even think. Is there someone you’d like to have come with you? A family member, a friend?”

“No,” she said and quickly averted her gaze. Luke had once told her he could read her mind just by staring into her eyes.

When still she hesitated, he lowered his voice. “Just so you know, one of my brothers is married and expecting a baby any second, another is getting married this summer and Pike’s girlfriend is due for a visit at the end of the week. She’s a private investigator in New York. In other words, there are lots of women around so if you’re worried about being stuck with a bunch of guys, don’t be.”

“I’m not worried about being with men,” she said.

He flashed her a devil-may-care smile. “Really? Now that’s...interesting.”

In that moment, Luke’s memory pierced her heart like a poison dart. He’d had this same throw-caution-to-the-wind-and-say-whatever-he-was-thinking quality.

“Sorry, I was just joking around,” he added quickly. “Thought I’d lighten things up.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Please say you’ll give my suggestion some thought.”

She glanced at his uneaten food as her mind raced, then she glanced at her watch. She’d been away almost two hours!

“If you’d rather travel on your own,” he said, “that’s fine, too. We’ll pay for you to rent a car or buy you a ticket. Just promise you’ll keep an open mind.”

“No matter what you think of me, I am capable of being fair,” she said.

“Good.”

She nodded once. “Okay, I’ll come. I’ll meet everyone and look around, all of that. But you and Mr. Dodge have to understand that none of it may change my mind and I expect both of you to respect that I have a right to my opinion.”

“I get it,” he said. “And I appreciate your honesty.”

“Under the circumstances, I’ll take the rented car.”

“Fine. If you trust me to do it for you, I’ll make the arrangements and have it delivered to your house later today. Let me jot down directions to our ranch,” he added. “Or give me your email address and I’ll send them to you.”

“That won’t be necessary. Let’s say we meet at the Hertz car rental place at the airport tomorrow morning at nine. I’ll follow you to your interview and then on to your ranch.”

“That sounds great,” he said. “And, Kate, thank you for giving us this chance.”

“Just remember that’s all it is,” she said softly, meeting his gaze straight on, bracing herself for the intensity in his eyes. “A chance.”

Chapter Two

Frankie was almost positive there was more to Kate West than met the eye, although there was nothing at all wrong with what met the eye. Midtwenties, long spun-gold hair, forget-me-not blue eyes, skin like polished seashells.

But there was something else, too. How many times had she looked at her watch for instance? Gary hadn’t said a word about her being distracted when he met her. Did that mean she normally wasn’t or had Gary been too engrossed in preproduction dilemmas to notice?

She’d contacted Gary first. He’d immediately called their historian, Patrick Lowell, to make sure she was legitimate. Pat was a fuddy-duddy of a man, a former junior college teacher turned freelance researcher, hired by Gary for several projects through the years and thorough with dates and facts. He’d confirmed Kate’s claims. Gary called Frankie who left the ranch in Falls Bluff and drove all night to meet with Gary and Pat.

Pat had admitted he didn’t know much about Kate’s current situation, just that she’d once been a grammar schoolteacher in Arizona. He’d suggested Frankie invite her to the ranch so she could meet the family. Gary had seconded that idea. Obviously, they both thought Frankie’s family would be more successful at winning her over than Frankie would.

But Frankie had settled on lunch instead and he’d gone to the restaurant dead set against inviting her anywhere. Once she’d met everyone, then what? What in the world would he do with a stranger intent on causing him problems? It was a busy time of year and taking care of her would fall on his shoulders. He really didn’t like babysitting people. Left to his own devices, he would have invited her to do her best to convince the world the documentary didn’t deserve to be made and he’d do his best to prove her wrong by making sure it turned out so damn good, there could be no doubt.

But he wasn’t in this by himself; Gary was involved, too, and so when Kate unconsciously laid the groundwork for an invitation, he went ahead and made it. The truth was that getting to know her was not an unpleasant idea. Who didn’t like a little mystery in a woman? He was even a bit disappointed that she wanted to drive separately.

But first he wanted to know what she was hiding and that’s why he’d paid for lunch and left the restaurant before her, which wasn’t easy as she was obviously champing at the bit to be gone herself.

Why? Had she privately arranged to talk to the backers earlier than she’d claimed? Had she agreed to the ranch trip just to mislead him? He intended to find out, even if it meant he had to sneak around a little.

From the restaurant exit, he glanced back at their table to see the waiter boxing his untouched lunch. Waste not, want not, huh? Maybe she had a dog. He hurried to his car and had just ducked inside when she stepped onto the sidewalk. She turned a fair number of heads as she walked down the block, blond hair floating out behind her in the gentle breeze, skirt swirling around excellent legs, small white paper bag dangling from one hand.

Babysitting her wasn’t going to be that difficult, he admitted to himself. He just had to remember to treat her like a loaded keg of dynamite and not the living, breathing, sexy beauty that she was.

As she came to a halt at a nearby bus stop, her gaze darted between her wristwatch and the street until a bus passed Frankie’s parked car and pulled to a stop in front of her. She boarded. He wasn’t sure where it was bound because he’d been too busy admiring Kate’s willowy form to notice the destination. He followed along behind as it made its way through traffic, expecting a downtown route. Instead it slowly made its way toward the suburbs and one of the many small communities surrounding Seattle proper. He continued following its stop-and-go route, watching as Kate made a couple of transfers, curious now despite the increasingly remote possibility her destination had anything to do with him. She finally got off the bus and began walking.

At first, the streets and sidewalks were crowded and all he had to do was drive slow and stay behind her. She kept making turns that led her away from the artsy-craftsy streets toward a row of ordinary houses, circa 1950. He stayed as far back as he could, her gold hair a beacon up ahead until she turned another corner and he sped up to find her again.

Many of the houses on this street were in the process of renovation but a few looked as though they hadn’t been tinkered with for decades. He stopped as she opened the gate to one such house and walked across the barren yard. It appeared to him she knocked before unlocking the door with a key she took from her shoulder bag.

So, what had he learned? Not much. She apparently lived on a street showing signs of promise in a house whose property value undoubtedly superseded the worth of the structure.

As he sat there undecided about what to do next, the door opened again and a small older woman emerged wearing nothing but a baggy sleeveless dress. The door swung closed behind her as she walked across the yard and out through the gate, right into the middle of the street. She stopped suddenly and stared down at her bare feet, clutching her thin arms with her hands, her gaze traveling the block as though trying to place herself.

Frankie looked toward the door. No sign of Kate.

He pulled the car forward and got out. He stood there a second, kind of lurking behind a bush, willing Kate to come out and take care of this woman before he had to blow his cover and do it himself. The door stayed closed. A car came around the corner and started down the street and he knew it was time to act. He took off his jacket as he crossed to the woman and draped it over her shoulders. The car sped by them and Frankie suppressed a wave of anger lest the old woman thought it was directed at her.

“Can I help you?” he asked gently.

She didn’t respond. He applied soft pressure to her arm to urge her to come with him back to the curb. She looked up at him as though just aware of his presence. “Do you know where Dennis is?”

“No, ma’am, I’m sorry, I don’t,” he said.

She looked down the street but didn’t move.

Another car had pulled to a stop a few feet away and the impatient driver tapped the horn. The old lady jumped.

Frankie cast the driver a look that would have sent a pack of coyotes off at a run. “Ma’am, please,” he said. “Come with me.”

She peered at his face and blinked. “Do you know where Dennis is?”

“Gram!” Kate yelled from the yard. She tore open the gate and ran out into the street, glancing up at Frankie as she ground to a halt in front of him. To say she looked surprised to see him was an understatement. Shocked was more like it. The old woman gazed at Kate without changing expression. Kate’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. “Your dinner is almost ready, Gram,” she said softly. “Let’s go back inside. It’s chilly out here.”

“I can’t find Dennis,” the old lady mumbled.

“We’ll look for him in the house,” Kate promised as she led her grandmother back to the yard where Frankie now saw another woman waiting on the porch. Kate took Frankie’s jacket from around her grandmother’s shoulders, hooked it on the gate and glanced back at him, anger blazing in her eyes.

“Kate,” he said but she shook her head and held up a hand as if to silence him. Without another word, she took her grandmother’s arm and ushered her quickly inside the house, the other woman following behind. The door closed with a resounding thud.

Frankie, still in the middle of the street walked toward the car that had honked. The driver’s window rolled open.

“You proud of yourself?” he asked the driver.

A narrow-faced man about his own age responded. “Just get off the damn street before I run you down!”

There had been a period in Frankie’s life where he would have pulled this bozo out of his car and punched him square in the nose. The desire to do just that was still there but time had tempered him. He stepped toward the curb and the car sped by.

Frankie retrieved his jacket from the fence and stood there awhile, sure Kate would come back outside and demand an explanation although he wasn’t sure what he could offer. The door stayed resolutely shut. She’d really meant that final shake of her head. He finally got back in his car and drove off toward the airport where he rented a room for the night.

Would Kate show up tomorrow? Doubtful bordering on hell, no. He didn’t have her phone number. Of course, he could call Gary and get it, but then Gary would sense there was a problem...no thanks, he didn’t want to start fielding questions, not yet anyway. Besides, part of him admitted he’d already intruded enough.

The older woman was obviously Kate’s grandmother but who was Dennis? Did these people have something to do with Kate’s desire to stop the filming of the documentary?

Why hadn’t he quit following her when it was obvious she wasn’t going to a business meeting? What had compelled him to know about her? Was he treating her like an adversary? That was fine if that was the case because she was an adversary, she’d chosen that role when she announced her intentions.

As he lay in bed that night, he knew that he had probably just sabotaged his own project and he swore under his breath. If Kate refused to talk to any of them again and went instead to the backers fueled by her anger with him, he didn’t think he’d have the stomach to try to stop her.

* * *

“IS THERE ANYTHING I can get you before I leave?” Rose McFadden whispered from the doorway.

Kate glanced from her slumbering grandmother to the retired nurse and shook her head. Her voice equally soft, she responded. “No thanks.”

“I’m going home to pack a bag but I’ll be back tomorrow morning bright and early, okay?”

“I don’t know,” Kate said. “I’m not sure—”

“Now, please, child, listen to me,” Rose said, stepping into the room. “I’d hate to see you cancel your trip because of what happened today. Anyone can make a mistake and forget to lock the door after themselves.”

“I never have before,” Kate said. She’d been preoccupied when she got home, her mind processing the lunch with Frankie Hastings, reliving the conversation, wondering if she’d slipped up anywhere. And as a result, she hadn’t relocked the door and her grandmother had walked outside into the middle of the street. If Frankie hadn’t been there who knows what would have happened?

“I’ll be here like we arranged,” Rose said. “I promised Mr. Abernathy I’d help you and your grandmother and I intend to keep my word. Try to get some sleep.”

Kate sat in the darkened room for what seemed like hours, the sound of her grandmother’s breathing the only noise in the whole world. Today was the longest she’d been gone in a year. How could she leave again? What had she been thinking to agree to this?

List your choices, her subconscious demanded. Easy: zero.

She glanced from the stack of bills on the corner of the desk visible through the open doorway to the unframed window she was in the process of replacing here in the bedroom. The house needed new plumbing, the roof was forty years old and she suspected termites had had their way with the foundation. She was going under, not slowly, but fast.

When Kate’s grandfather had died, Kate had cried for days. That was the last time she’d allowed herself tears. She didn’t even cry for Luke because she was afraid if she started she’d never quit. But now she felt them swell in her eyes and roll down her cheeks and she seemed unable to stop them.

“Dennis?”

Kate’s head jerked toward the bed where she found her grandmother staring up at her. “No, Gram, Grandpa isn’t here right now. It’s just me, Kate.”

Gram blinked a couple of times as though trying to process Kate’s words. She’d once had dark blue eyes like Kate’s but as the fire inside her soul slowly fizzled away, it seemed her eye color followed suit. Kate hastily wiped at her cheeks, but her grandmother caught a tear on her finger and touched it to her own lips.

“Oh, Gram,” Kate said. It had been two decades since Gram had done the exact same thing when Kate ran her bike into a mailbox and gave herself a black eye.

Kate scooted down on her chair until she could rest her head on Gram’s pillow. The old woman grasped her hand and Kate started talking in a soft, unhurried voice. “A week ago, I met an old friend of yours named Greg Abernathy,” she began. “He’s been abroad for years but he recently moved back to Seattle and came to see you. He was so sad that Grandpa had...well, he got all choked up. And then he told me something.

“He and Grandpa were coworkers a long time ago. He remembered Grandpa telling him about a long distant uncle who was a diamond merchant. When this guy stopped during his travels, he would put his diamonds in the bank of whatever town he was staying in. Well, it turns out that this one time, the bank was robbed and the diamonds were taken along with the gold. He never made a claim on what he’d lost because he didn’t want anyone to know what he did for a living.

“Now this is where fate takes a hand,” she continued. “Mr. Abernathy and Grandpa shared an office at the college. When Mr. Abernathy left to teach overseas, he stored a whole lot of boxes of books and papers. When he got back to Seattle recently, he decided to clean out the storage and it was while he was doing this that he found a file of Grandpa’s in with his things and in the file was a copy of a paper detailing where the diamonds had been hidden after the robbery. He came here to give the file to Grandpa and to ask if Grandpa had ever tried to recover them.”

Kate lowered her voice. “Mr. Abernathy could see that we’re...struggling. Those diamonds are yours now, and they could make all the difference in the world. It’s not a fortune, but it’s probably enough to get the house up to code so we can remortgage and get some of the bills paid. The trouble is, they’re on the land of a greedy, possessive man. If he were to claim the diamonds as his own and take us to court—well, how could we pay for that and, anyway, by the time it was settled it would be too late for you...for us. I have to find them, Gram. Mr. Abernathy said he would go but he’s old now and, besides, this is my obligation, not his. It’s an opportunity and I can’t think of anything else to do. Only thing is, it means I have to leave for a couple of days...”

Gram’s hand had grown slack. Kate turned her head to find the older woman’s eyes closed. Kate had a very strong premonition that if she left her grandmother’s side it would be for the last time. Of course, she felt that way every time she left the house, every time she kissed her good-night. It was always goodbye.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered into the night.

* * *

FRANKIE ARRIVED AT the car rental place early armed with coffee and a sheaf of papers Gary had given him to look over. He’d give Kate an hour to stand him up and then he’d hit the road.

A female shape pushed off from where she’d been leaning against a fence and he recognized Kate’s lovely face despite the huge sunglasses resting on her nose. As she approached, he reminded himself to close his mouth instead of gaping in shock. She’d come?

Why?

As he grabbed the door handle to get out of the vehicle and start the process of renting her a car, she opened the back door, shrugged off a backpack and set it on the seat where it clanked as it landed. A second later she slipped into the passenger seat.

Today she wore jeans and a black windbreaker. Her long, blond hair had been woven into a thick, loose braid that trailed down her back. She took off the sunglasses as she turned to face him. Dark smudges under her eyes were more pronounced than they’d been the day before.

“I can’t believe you came,” he heard himself say.

“Neither can I but I said I would so I did. Let’s get something straight, though. My grandmother is none of your business.”

“I—”

“You went behind my back. You asked me to trust you and then you—”

“Sneaked around,” he interrupted. “I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back—” The scowl on her face cut his words short. “Okay, I get it. Well, let’s rent you a car and get on our way.”

“There’s no need now,” she said. “I just didn’t want you to know where I lived. I like my privacy.”

“I sort of figured that,” he said dryly.

“Let’s just go.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and started the engine before she could change her mind.

Chapter Three

As the luxury car ate up the miles, Kate didn’t have the slightest idea what to say to the man behind the wheel. He’d offered her his untouched coffee but she’d declined—she didn’t drink coffee anymore. The nerves that had taken up residence when this situation began made almost everything taste like dirty dishwater and sit uncomfortably in her stomach.

He seemed as willing to let the miles pass in silence as she was but probably not for the same reasons. Yesterday, sitting outside with the breeze ruffling their hair and the sound of seagulls mingling with the chatter of other diners, Frankie’s energy and charisma had been hard enough to handle but not as over-the-top scary as now.

She took a deep breath that didn’t help as the subtle scent of his aftershave wafted into her nose. She was aware of his hands on the wheel, his long fingers almost graceful. Her hands looked more like work hands than his did and she squashed the urge to sit on them.

“You’re very quiet,” he said, glancing at her. His dark lashes coupled with his grayish eyes made his gaze so intense her cheeks felt hot. That’s what a guilty conscience could do to a person.

“Just tired,” she said and that was the truth. After deciding to scrap this adventure, she’d tackled that stack of bills and reality had settled once again on her shoulders. She needed money and quite a bit of it if she was to keep Gram safe. She couldn’t afford to allow fear to rule her decisions. Premonitions were notoriously overrated. She’d be back in two days, tops.

She’d had to leave so early this morning to catch the bus to the airport that she hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Gram. Rose would take care of her and goodbyes never lasted in Gram’s memory for more than a few seconds anyway, but it added to the unease churning Kate’s gut. She turned her face toward the window where her pal, Mr. Sun, warmed the glass. Her eyes drifted closed.

She woke with a start, heart racing. Where was Gram? Had she gotten through the door again? Full consciousness returned with a sucker punch and she took a deep breath as she scanned her surroundings. Frankie Hastings stared at her. He’d pulled up in front of a diner and Kate’s stomach growled.

“We’ve been on the road for four hours,” he said. “We’re almost at Dave Dalton’s place. He’s the guy I told you about who’s descended from the lawyer who left town after the robbery. I’m kind of hungry and it looks like we could get a sandwich here if that’s okay with you. It isn’t fancy, but it’s convenient.”

She sat up straight. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with old socks. She blinked a couple of times. Her wallet held about forty dollars and that had to get her back home. What she needed most and could actually afford was a free glass of water.

“I meant to remind you,” he added. “LOGO, that’s the name of Gary Dodge’s production company, intends to cover your expenses for this trip. That included the rental car that you didn’t use but is still an option when you want to return to Seattle.” He smiled at her and added, “And no, we’re not trying to buy you. I don’t imagine you come cheap.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said, and for once, he looked ill at ease, which strangely made her feel better.

“I am thirsty,” she said.

“Good. Let’s give this place a try.”

The diner turned out to be a far cry from the waterfront bistro of the day before. Kate ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and it actually seemed to sit okay in her stomach for once. Toward the end of the meal, Frankie took out his cell phone and studied it. “I’m reminding myself how to get to Dave Dalton’s place,” he explained.

“Do you know what it is he wants to show you?”

“Not a clue. I’m curious, of course,”

“Is he expecting me to be there, too? If it’s awkward, I can sit outside in the sun or something.”

“I doubt your being there will be an issue but no, he’s not expecting you. I arranged this meeting about a week ago, before I knew you’d be...with me.”

“Before I made trouble,” she said.

“Yeah. Listen, as long as I have my phone out, why don’t you give me your email and cell number? Phones don’t always work out at the ranch, but—”

“I don’t have email or a cell phone,” she said.

He stared at her a second as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard her say.

“I moved here from Arizona over a year ago,” she added. She had to give him some explanation so she went with the truth. “My grandparents didn’t have internet or the...inclination...to install it. When my tablet died, I just, well, people lived for generations without computers, right?”

“You sound like my father’s kind of girl,” he said. “He’s not big into them, either.”

She did not want to be compared to his father. “I loved my computer. I mean, you can’t get through college nowadays without...well, those days are long over. Now there are other things to keep me busy.”

“Like what?” he said.

She looked down at her hands and shrugged. “You know, work.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

She should have anticipated these questions. They were the kind almost everyone asked, she was just woefully out of practice fielding idle curiosity. Not sure why she felt the need to take the sting out of her words, she smiled. “Remember that whole I like my privacy thing?”

“Yes,” he said. “Sorry.”

She pushed herself away from the table and they both stood up. “Thank you for the sandwich and the tea,” she added. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back, I know you’re anxious to get going.”

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” he said as he stood. As she watched him walk to the cash register, the strangest pang of longing came over her.

Now what was that all about?

* * *

DAVE DALTON LIVED down a tree-lined lane a mile or so outside Spokane, Washington. The road was rutted with parallel tracks. Kate had gripped the edges of her seat as Frankie did his best to stay in the ruts, but inevitably the tires found all the uneven spots. Dalton needed to grade his long, bumpy driveway.

Frankie’s gut feeling that Kate was hiding something just wouldn’t go away. Sure, she was touchy, but it had to be more than that. Touchy was understandable. She’d accepted an invitation from a virtual stranger who openly questioned her convictions. He was a little wary of her, too. But it was something more, like the way she avoided direct answers to simple questions, hiding behind the privacy thing. Still every once in a while, he caught an unguarded comment or look and it made him smile inside.

When had he last been serious about a woman? Almost a year, he realized with a start. She’d been a nurse at the urgent care center, pretty and fun-loving, full of hopes and dreams. He’d broken it off with her when she got too clingy and talk of her dreams became talk of “their” dreams, dreams he didn’t share.

Right after that, he’d started building himself a very private home even his family didn’t know about. Years before, his father had given each of his sons their choice of land on which to construct houses when and if they wanted. Frankie’s oldest brother, Gerard, had chosen a river view parcel not far upstream from the main house. He and Kinsey lived in it and would soon be joined by their baby who was due momentarily.

Next in age came Chance. He’d built himself an A-frame. His fiancée’s name was Lily and she and her small son lived on the ranch, too. Pike came next. He’d renovated a barn into a really cool house. His girlfriend, Sierra, split her time between the ranch and New York City.

Frankie knew he didn’t quite fit into his family of overachievers. It was difficult being the youngest of four brothers, all with different mothers, all very capable ranchers and businessmen. His designated title as a kid had been the screwup. And now, between one thing and another, he just liked to keep part of his life to himself, hence his secret hideaway. Half the time when his family thought he was in town carousing or causing mischief, he was actually working on his place.

So, in short, he knew a thing or two about privacy and keeping secrets, but there was only one that made him break into a cold sweat every time he thought about it. With Kate, that seemed to happen constantly. She acted like she was under a lot of stress from a lot of directions and despite how prickly she could be, he felt for her.

But right now she was hanging on to her seat and staring straight ahead as a small house finally appeared in a clearing at the end of the private road. He pulled to a stop and heard her expel a long breath.

“You okay?”

“Just glad to have that road behind me.”

“Don’t forget we still have to get back to the highway.”

“Let me enjoy walking around for a minute.” They got out of the car and she took several breaths. Some of the color started to return to her cheeks as she gazed around them.

“It’s quiet here,” she said. “And warm.” She unzipped her windbreaker and started to pull it over her head. As she raised her arms, her blouse rode up with the jacket and three inches of creamy, smooth, velvety skin appeared at the delicious curve of her waist. By the time she got the windbreaker off and tugged her clothes into place, he had looked away, alarmed at how enticing he found that tiny peek of her flesh.

The house had a small concrete slab for a front porch and a steeply pitched roof, probably because it snowed here in the winter. A trio of moldy, faded garden gnomes sat by the bushes in front of the window. Frankie knocked against the wooden door and they stood there waiting as insects droned in the tall grass.

“Are you sure he’s expecting you?” Kate asked.

“I should have texted him to confirm things. Let’s check and see if his car is here.

The detached garage shared the same shabby, spare construction as the house. A door that slid across a wide opening was slightly cracked. Frankie rolled it open enough that he could see a sleek white car so new it still had the dealer’s advertisement where the license plate would eventually go.

“Wow,” Kate said as she looked under his raised arm.

“Funny what people spend their money on, isn’t it?” Frankie said. “The house looks like it’s about to fall down while there’s a seventy-five-thousand-dollar car sitting in the garage.”

“Seventy-five thousand dollars,” Kate said, whistling. “I repeat, wow.”

“Well, he’s probably here. Let’s go knock again.”

No one came to the door this time, either. Kate walked out onto the grass opposite the front window, approached the glass cautiously and peered inside.

“See anything?” Frankie called.

“Yeah. It looks like a...” She stopped talking as her hands flew to cover her mouth and she quickly backed away from the window almost stumbling over her own feet.

“Kate! What’s wrong?” Frankie asked as he started to walk toward her.

“No, open the door. Hurry,” she cried, casting him a wild-eyed look. “Open the door.”

He turned back around and tried to twist the knob, then he rammed his shoulder against the door.

“Hurry!” Kate said.

Raising his leg, he kicked at the thing and this time the old wood creaked but it still didn’t budge. He ran to Kate’s side. “What is it?”

Her skin had drained of color. “A man,” she said. He glanced at the windows but from that distance, all he saw were their reflections. “I think he’s...he’s dead,” she mumbled.

Frankie grabbed one of the plaster garden gnomes and smashed it against the window. As glass shattered to the ground the foul odor of rotting flesh all but slammed him in the face. Kate turned her back to him, braced her hands on her knees and retched as he peered into the heavily shadowed room.

A small-framed man with sandy white hair hung from a rope attached to a rafter while an overturned stool occupied the floor under his dangling feet. From the smell and the appearance of his face, it was obvious he’d been there for quite a while.

Frankie moved to grasp Kate’s shoulders as she heaved. He tried patting her back but he didn’t say anything. What was there to say? When she had finished, she looked even more pallid than before. She accepted the clean handkerchief he offered her. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I saw a faucet by the garage. I’m going to go wash out my mouth.”

He took out his cell phone and dialed 911. What had Dave Dalton wanted to show him? It now seemed unlikely he’d ever know.

* * *

THEY SAT IN the car and waited for the sheriff’s department and an ambulance to arrive. Kate breathed through her mouth. Even with the windows rolled up, she was almost positive she could still smell the rotting corpse of that poor man. Her empty stomach clenched.

The ambulance and the sheriff’s cars came with sirens. Frankie and Kate answered a dozen questions that added almost no information that mattered one way or another. The deputy who entered the house came out looking almost as washed-out as Kate felt. He was about her age and she got the feeling this might be his first dead body.

“I can’t believe old Dave killed himself like that. Sara is going to be real broken up by this.”

“Sara?”

“His daughter.”

“Then it is Dave Dalton in there,” Frankie said.

“Yeah, though his own mother wouldn’t recognize him now. No note or nothing, either. Shame you folks had to find him.”

“Did he live alone?” Kate asked.

“Yeah. Has since Polly died ’bout five years back.”

“I’d never really met the man,” Frankie said. “In fact, I only talked to him one time and exchanged a couple of emails.” He explained about the documentary and added, “He seemed interested in showing me something. It just seems odd that he’d kill himself before he could do it.”

“What did he want to show you?”

“I have no idea.”

“You never can tell what’s going on in someone’s head,” the deputy said.

Two EMTs came out of the house rolling a body bag between them and loaded it into the ambulance. The deputy, Frankie and Kate watched with somber expressions.

“That’s a nice car in the garage,” Frankie said as the ambulance left the yard. He’d already retraced the actions they’d taken since arriving at the Dalton house.

“He’s got himself a hell of an entertainment system and a kitchen that looks like one of them that’s on a cooking show,” the deputy said. “I had no idea he had that kind of loot.” The deputy took off his hat, scratched his head and pulled it back on. “Dave’s dad died a few years back,” he added. “Dave retired about then. Maybe he inherited some money. He wasn’t exactly the chatty type.”

“I guess it’s true,” Frankie said softly. “It takes more than money to make a person happy.”

The remark hit close to home for Kate who glanced down the twisting road as the ambulance’s taillights disappeared from view.

Chapter Four

Several hours later when they stopped for gas, Frankie asked Kate if she was hungry and she shook her head. “I don’t think I could eat. You go ahead, though.”

“I don’t have an appetite either,” he said. “Listen, Kate, I’m very sorry that you were with me today and had to see all that. I wish I’d known what we were getting ourselves in for.

“How could you possibly have known?”

“If I’d called or texted him and he hadn’t responded we wouldn’t have stopped...”

“Don’t beat yourself up on my account,” she said. “The deputy mentioned Mr. Dalton had a daughter. It’s better that we found his body than she did, right?”

“I guess so,” he said.

“Anyway, I was with my grandfather when he died.” Now why had she told him that? When she’d signed on for this venture, she’d sworn she wouldn’t talk about herself, invite confidences or reveal personal information. She had never lied to anyone before in her life and Frankie was making doing so now very hard because...well, she didn’t know why exactly, she just found herself wanting to tell him things. She muttered, “Death happens.”

“But not usually like that,” he said.

“No, you’re right. Poor man.”

Once back on the road, the fatigue Kate couldn’t seem to shake came back and once again she fell asleep. When she woke up, it was dark outside and the dashboard clock said it was half past eleven.

She’d been dreaming about people. Luke had been in one of them but she wasn’t sure in what way. The most vivid had been of her grandmother who had been baking. She’d offered Kate a taste of cookie batter from a long spoon. Kate had stared at her, tears running down her cheeks, mumbling over and over again, Gram, you’re like you used to be! You’re okay. And her grandmother had laughed. Of course I’m okay.

Kate swallowed a knot. “Where are we?” she asked as she glanced at Frankie.

“We just ran over the cattle guard that is the ranch’s unofficial welcome mat. Did you have a nice snooze?”

“I think so,” she said. “I’m sorry I keep falling asleep.”

“It’s no problem,” he said. “When you live out this far, you get used to time alone behind a wheel.”

She looked out the window. The waxing moon illuminated nothing but fields. Maybe there wasn’t a whole lot else to see. They traveled a couple of miles down a dirt-and-gravel road before cresting a hill. Below, Kate saw a large house and a scattering of dark buildings, but her gaze went to the winding path of the river. Her heart jumped into her throat. The Bowline River...the real reason she was here. She tore her attention from that tantalizing U-bend and concentrated on the house instead lest Frankie sense the direction of her thoughts.

“That’s my family’s house,” he said.

“Does everyone live there?”

“No. Gerard, Chance and Pike all built homes scattered about on ranch land.”

“But not you?”

He shrugged. “The only people who live full-time in this house are my father and his wife, my brother Chance’s fiancée, Lily, and her little boy, Charlie. They’ll move out after the wedding. I’ve talked to Grace and she says you’re welcome to stay with them.”

“What about you?”

“I have a room at the house for when I’m here or once in a while I stay with Pike.”

“Then you don’t live on the ranch?”

He cast her a quick glance. Dashboard lights illuminated part of his face and the dazzling white of his eyes. “I like my privacy, too,” he said.

“Touché,” she muttered.

Three dogs greeted them when they got out of the car. They all had dark fur though two also sported patches of white. Though difficult to tell in the semidark of the night, one looked like a Labrador retriever and the others like some kind of shepherd mix. Kate hadn’t had a dog since she was fifteen and she knelt to pat them and accept welcoming licks across the cheek. Frankie handed her the backpack. “What did you pack, rocks? This thing weighs a ton.”

She’d meant to grab the pack herself and gotten distracted by the dogs. She didn’t respond to his remark, just took the pack and moved off while he retrieved a small suitcase from his trunk.

As she approached the house, she heard the sound of moving water and unable to resist, walked along the path to a point where she could glimpse the moonlit river below. Its banks could be her salvation if she kept her mind on her priorities and goals.

“Kate?” Frankie said.

At the sound of his voice, she jumped about two inches into the air.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Huh? Oh, yes. It is,” she said and hoped he couldn’t hear her heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you like rivers?

“Why do you ask?” she said, startled.

She sensed as much as saw the rise and fall of his shoulders. “Oh, you know. Some people are into mountains and forests, others crave the desert sun, some like the water.”

She thought of Luke and the icy Bering Sea. “I guess I appreciate different things in all of them,” she said, looking up at his face. There was just enough light to see the curiosity at play in his eyes, curiosity she had no desire to arouse.

Or did she? When was the last time she’d felt as alive as right that moment? All day she’d been fighting a bone-weary fatigue except for the few hours spent in numb shock after discovering Dave Dalton’s body. Now, however, she was wide awake and most of that was because of what this river signified if she accomplished what she’d agreed to try. But she also knew that some of the way she felt was because of Frankie’s shoulder grazing her own.

Was she unconsciously soliciting his attention? Was this part of that urge she had to level with him? Why had this plan been so much easier in theory than it was turning out to be in reality? She stepped away from him, her backpack held in front of her chest like a shield. If he’d had X-ray vision what would he make of its contents?

“It’s getting late,” he said, touching her arm and sending a shiver straight to her spine. “Let’s see if anyone is still awake.”

She turned away from the river and from Frankie.

Tomorrow she’d get started. With any luck, she’d be gone by the day after.

And Frankie? He was an obstacle, yes, but he was also an illusion. There was no room for fantasy when a pack of hungry wolves howled at the door.

* * *

“YOU TWO MUST be exhausted,” Harry Hastings said. His gaze traveled from Frankie to Kate. “Young lady, how are you holding up?” This demand was made in his usual take-no-prisoners style.

Beside him, Kate kind of bristled. Frankie had called his family after he spoke to the police to report the hanging death of Dave Dalton so they could alert Gary Dodge and Pat Lowell, but he hadn’t told them that Kate required kid glove treatment.

“What do you mean?” she said.

“That horrible suicide, of course,” he replied, reaching for her backpack. “Hell of a thing for a young woman to come across.”

He was dressed in his pajamas and robe and explained that Grace was spending the night over at Kinsey and Gerard’s place. The baby was technically overdue and Grace spent as much time over there as she did here.

Kate tightened her grip on her backpack. “I’m fine,” she said. “Mr. Dalton’s...death...was tragic, of course. I feel bad for his family.”

“I’ve never understood suicide,” he replied. “Anyway, let me take that pack for you. Grace fixed up the downstairs room...”

“No, thank you,” she said firmly, her grip on her pack growing tighter. “I’ve got this.”

He held up both hands and laughed.

“Sorry,” she said and smothered a yawn. “It’s been a long day.”

“Of course,” his father said. “Frankie, get our guest settled. I’m off to bed. I know you have your hands full,” he added, “but I was hoping you’d have time to help me tomorrow morning. Pike and Chance rode out yesterday to the high pastures to check things out and they called to report seeing one of the mares with a brand-new foal. Not sure how she slipped by us, but I’d appreciate your bringing her and the baby closer to the ranch. They’re out near Bywater, somewhere around Ten Cent Creek.”

“No problem,” Frankie said. He turned his attention to Kate and added, “Would you like to come along?”

“No thanks,” she said quickly.

“Saving your riding legs for the ghost town and the...hanging tree?”

“It’ll give me a chance to sleep in,” she said after a moment.

He gave her a double take. All this woman did was sleep. Was she ill?

Harry Hastings wandered out of the kitchen and Frankie, careful not to even glance at Kate’s backpack, led her down the hall to the open door of a modest room with twin beds.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” he asked.

“No, everything looks very nice.”

He nodded as he gazed down in her eyes. He could not shake the feeling something was wrong or deny his desire to try to get her to open up.

“See you tomorrow,” she said, still holding on to her pack.

“It shouldn’t take me long,” he said. “I’ll be back before noon.”

“Noon,” she repeated as though committing it to memory.

“Yes. Well, good night,” he said, and damn if he didn’t feel a pull toward touching her lips with his and double damn if she didn’t seem to broadcast the hope he would do just that.

They both stepped back at the same time. As he walked down the short hallway back to the kitchen, he heard the door close and the lock click behind him.

He’d never been around a woman who sent so many mixed messages. In her unguarded moments, he liked her—she was amusing and interesting and so beautiful it was hard not to stare at her. That hair! Like gold, smooth and long and framing a perfect oval face. But when she got tense, whoa, back off. She’d all but bitten his father’s head off. Why?

Was it just nerves at finding herself in what she considered the enemy camp? His dad could be formidable. Maybe that’s all it was.

Or maybe it was something else....

* * *

AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT, Kate found that her window looked out over the ranch yard affording a decent view of Frankie leaving the house and crossing to a picture-perfect barn. It was the first time she’d really had a chance to watch him from a distance.

He wasn’t nearly as burly as Luke but easily twice as striking. Luke had had a gentle nature to go along with his brute strength. She put him out of her mind, determined to stay strong.

Frankie came out of the barn a little later leading a saddled horse. He walked it over to a horse trailer attached to a big white truck. Once the horse was tucked safely inside, he drove the rig out of the yard. She knew little of how ranches operated, but she had to assume he was driving to a certain point and then riding the rest of the way on horseback.

A pang of desire hit her hard. How desperately did she want to be in that truck with Frankie, free to go looking for a horse and her baby? Who didn’t love a baby horse? Free to do ordinary things, free to just be herself. The pang was immediately followed by shame. She spent the next fifteen minutes braiding her shower-damp hair and dressing, then strapped on her backpack and left her room.

A pleasant-looking woman of about fifty turned as Kate walked into the kitchen. Kate had assumed no one else was awake and so she was caught off guard and stumbled to a halting stop. But this was good. She’d been worried about taking a horse without asking and this way she wouldn’t have to do that.

“Harry had to leave. Some trouble with the dang water pump. I’m Grace, Harry’s wife. I assume you’re Kate?”

“Yes,” Kate said, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived,” Grace continued. “My daughter had a few twinges.”

“I thought it was Frankie’s brother having the baby,” she said.

“That’s right, but Gerard is married to my daughter.” She laughed. “It’s a long story. Get Frankie to tell it to you.” She poured a mug from the coffeepot and set it on the counter in front of Kate. “I heard you were going to sleep in today. Frankie left a bit ago. I’m afraid you missed him.”

“I just couldn’t sleep anymore,” Kate said, which was the truth. She looked at the cup of coffee, debating whether to be polite and take a sip or admit she didn’t drink the stuff. Politeness won, but one taste later, she put down the cup. Her face must have reflected what she’d tasted because Grace winced.

“I brew it strong for this crew. I’ll make a new pot—”

“No, that’s okay. It’s such a lovely morning. Would you mind if I borrowed a horse? I spent my teenage summers working at a dude ranch so I’m comfortable with animals.”

“That’s a grand idea. There’s a red mare out in the barn that Pike’s girlfriend, Sierra, adores.”

“That sounds great. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She paused for a second before adding, “If you’re riding out to the ghost town, you’ll need directions or you’ll get lost. And listen, dear, don’t feel embarrassed about wanting to come here and get a feel for things. I think your concern for your forefathers’ reputations is admirable.”

“Thank you,” Kate said, uncomfortable with the unwarranted praise this kind woman gave so generously. “For now, I’ll just stay by the river. That way I can’t get lost.”

As if she wasn’t already...

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