“We need to talk.”

Wade conducted an about-face and bumped into Lindsay, who had followed him. He grabbed her arms to keep her from falling, his fingers sliding across her skin, the urge to draw her closer so powerful he shook with the effort to resist.

The green of her eyes drew him in, mesmerizing him. The curve of her full lower lip begged to be kissed. Wade swallowed hard on the rise of desire. He hadn’t come to the Long K Ranch to rekindle a burned-out flame. His mission was to expose this woman’s grandfather for attempted murder.

With all the self-control he could muster, his hands dropped to his sides, his fingers still tingling with her warmth. “Your grandfather said that if you want to talk to him, hurry up. He’d like to go to bed.”

She pulled that full bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it like she always had when she worked a problem in her head. “Okay. But we really need to talk.”

“Tomorrow.” Wade turned and left before he forgot why he’d come. Before he started thinking there might still be something between them, if he gave it a chance.

Cowboy Brigade
Elle James

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to my husband

whose patience and understanding allows me to pursue my

dreams and follow my imagination in my writing career.

Love you, honey!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Golden Heart Winner for Best Paranormal Romance in 2004, Elle James started writing when her sister issued a Y2K challenge to write a romance novel. She managed a full-time job, raised three wonderful children and she and her husband even tried their hands at ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas) in the Texas Hill Country. Ask her, and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe to toe with an angry 350-pound bird! After leaving her successful career in information technology management, Elle is now pursuing her writing full-time. She loves building exciting stories about heroes, heroines, romance and passion. Elle loves to hear from fans. You can contact her at ellejames@earthlink.net or visit her website at www.ellejames.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Wade Coltrane—Former Army Special Forces member whose specialty is infiltrating enemy lines, hired by Corps Security and Investigations to infiltrate the Long K Ranch.

Lindsay Kemp—Granddaughter of the owner of Long K Ranch who had the misfortune of falling in love with Wade Coltrane and now bears the secret of a night of passion between them.

Henry Kemp—Owner of the Long K Ranch who has a hatred of all things Lockhart and isn’t afraid to tell everyone. Identified as a suspect who may be responsible for hiring a gunman to shoot Governor Lockhart, does his hatred of the Lockharts go deep enough to hire a killer?

Lila Lockhart—Governor of the state of Texas and potential candidate for the next U.S. presidential election. Her family is in jeopardy thanks to an unknown threat.

Bart Bellows—Wheelchair-bound owner of the Corps Security and Investigations Agency. Bart is an eccentric billionaire, a Vietnam vet and a former CIA agent determined to help others.

Frank Dorian—Recently hired ranch hand on the Long K Ranch who is aggressive, possessive and won’t leave Lindsay Kemp alone.

Cal Murphy—Local pediatrician, Lindsay Kemp’s ex-fiancé and Wade Coltrane’s high school rival.

Contents

Prologue

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

Prologue

“Hello, Bart.” Governor Lila Lockhart spoke softly into the cell phone. With a bodyguard on either side, she had no privacy and it had been that way since the incident.

“Lila, I’m glad you called. Have there been any more threats?”

“Not since the Rory Stockett shooting, thank goodness. I just called to thank you and your team for all of your help. I couldn’t have gotten through the past two weeks without knowing I had you watching my back.”

“Lila, Rory was hired by someone and that someone still hasn’t been found,” Bart warned. “My men are still on full alert. I expect you to be equally vigilant.”

“I am, believe me. I hate that all this is happening. I’m beginning to reconsider my options once this gubernatorial term is over.”

“We’ll find him, Lila. Don’t go making rash decisions based on a crazy man taking potshots at you. You’re not one to run. That’s what I find most attractive about you.”

Lila smiled. “Thanks, Bart. A little flattery always works wonders.”

Bart chuckled. “My pleasure. Let me know if you need anything else. The men of Corps Security and Investigations are here to help see you through this.”

Lila clicked the off button and leaned back in her seat, the smell of leather relaxing to her senses. It had been a grueling day of meetings, and she couldn’t wait to get home and take a long hot bath.

It seemed a little odd thinking of getting naked in a bathtub with two very large, very strong bodyguards sitting on either side of her. A smile curved her lips. They would be appalled if they could read her mind.

Loud popping sounds erupted around her. The vehicle lurched and skidded sideways, metal screaming against pavement.

Lila clutched the armrest. “What’s going on?”

The bodyguard on her left removed the Sig Sauer pistol from his shoulder holster and leaned forward, bracing his hand on the door.

The driver clung to the steering wheel, the veins standing out on his forehead as he fought to straighten the vehicle, but the wheels leaped over the shoulder of the road and the limo crashed downward into a ditch and up an embankment.

The bodyguard with the gun lost his grip on the weapon and grabbed for the armrest on the door.

With nothing to hold on to, Lila bounced in her seat, flung from side to side like a rag doll.

Barely able to view out the tinted windows, Lila didn’t see the fencepost until the side of the car slammed into it. The bodyguard beside her crashed against the door, his head thumping the window. Bulletproof glass held true, even as the metal frame of the limo bent around the post. The bodyguard went limp.

Lila’s seat belt held her in the middle, but the bodyguard on her other side hit her shoulder, jolting her hard, pain shooting through her neck and back.

When the world finally came to a jarring halt, the limo horn blared. Lila blinked and dragged in a deep breath, not having realized she’d been holding it since the first pop. The limo listed to the left, pointed back down the embankment at a forty-five degree angle. If not for the seat belt, Lila would have gone through the front windshield.

“Jimmy?” she called out to the driver.

His body slumped over the steering wheel, the source of the horn’s blare.

“Jimmy!” Lila fiddled with the belt buckle.

“Governor Lockhart, please stay put.” The bodyguard beside her reached out a hand too late to catch her.

The buckle opened and Lila fell across the open space between the driver and where she and the bodyguards perched in the rear compartment, slamming headfirst into the back of the driver’s seat.

Stunned, she pushed against the seat so that she could see Jimmy, her driver. Blood dripped down over his arm.

“Jimmy?” Lila felt for a pulse. For a moment she didn’t feel one and her own heartbeat skittered to a halt. A second later, she could have cried out with joy. The faint thump of blood passing through a vein gave her hope that Jimmy would live.

“Help me out of here.” She crawled up the side of the limo, pulling herself along by gripping the upholstery. “We have to get him help.” She stared up at the bodyguard and across to his partner who hung like a crash dummy from the restraints. “What about Tom?”

“He’s out, but his heartbeat is strong.” The bodyguard above gave her a stern glare. “You have to stay inside the car while I check for trouble outside.”

“I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

“Then find your cell phone and dial 9-1-1.”

Her heart hammering against her ribs, Lila searched the tilted interior of the limo. It took her three precious minutes to locate her cell phone and even longer to reboot it to get it to work.

Her finger hit the speed dial for 9-1-1 and she relayed her location and the condition of the vehicle’s occupants. Then she put the dispatcher on hold and speed dialed Bart.

“Lila?” Bart answered. “What’s wrong?”

“It happened again.”

Chapter One

Wade Coltrane stepped out of his truck and stared at the ranch house. Five years hadn’t changed much. The paint was a little more worn, flaking off in a few places. The lawn could use cutting and the barn out behind the house had that weathered, old-wood look, but other than that, it appeared the same.

He tried to push back the feeling of having come home. He hadn’t returned to the Long K Ranch to get comfortable and reminisce about old times, or to pick up where he’d left off. In many ways you could never go back. Time had a way of changing people, places and perspective.

Wade had come to secure employment with the ranch owner as cover for his real mission—spying on the one suspected of carrying out threats against Governor Lila Lockhart.

Second thoughts about his task had no place in his life. After the disaster of his military career, he needed this job and he needed to redeem himself. If not to anyone else, then in his own mind. He had a lot to atone for and nothing and nobody would get in the way of that atonement.

A pang of guilt sat like a wad of soggy sweat socks in his gut. Old Man Kemp had been his father’s employer, the grumpy ranch owner had been tough but, for the most part, fair.

Wade had grown up on the ranch, playing in the barn, riding horses and swimming in the creek. Kemp’s granddaughter had tagged along, getting in his way almost every step of the way.

Being the boss’s kin, he’d put up with her.

An image of a redheaded hellion riding bareback at breakneck speeds across the pasture flashed across his memories.

Lindsay Kemp. Beautiful, passionate and fiercely independent and loyal. The boss’s granddaughter. Completely out of his league, only he hadn’t been bright enough to recognize it until too late.

A sigh rose up his chest and he swallowed hard. History had no place in the present other than as a reminder not to repeat one’s mistakes.

Lindsay had forgotten him as soon as he left for boot camp. By the time he’d built his career in the Army and returned to ask her to marry him, she’d up and gotten herself engaged to a local doctor.

Just as well that she married a doctor. She’d have hated the life of a military spouse. And he hadn’t been willing to give up his Army career. Then.

In five years, a lot could change.

Wade knocked at the door. When no one answered, he rounded the house and headed for the barn. He spied movement in one of the training pens and altered his course.

A white-haired man, astride a sturdy bay gelding trotted around a well-worn circle inside the round pen. When he spied Wade, the old guy drew back on the reins, bringing the big gelding to a stop. Henry Kemp glared down at Wade with rheumy blue eyes. “We ain’t buying anything.”

“I’m not selling.”

“You’re trespassin’.”

“I’m here to apply for the ranch hand job you posted at the Talk of the Town.”

The old man’s gaze traveled Wade’s length. “Why should I hire you?”

“Because I know this ranch as well as you do, Mr. Kemp.” Wade forced a grin he didn’t feel. “Do you remember me, Mr. Kemp? Wade Coltrane. Jackson Coltrane’s son.”

“Little Wade Coltrane?” Henry slung his leg over the horse and eased to the ground. For a seventy-five-year-old man, Mr. Kemp got around pretty good.

Wade looked closer. The old guy got around but was it good enough to be a real threat to Governor Lockhart? This was the man suspected of hiring Rory Stockett to take a shot at her. The man who might have seeded the highway with horseshoe nails to cause the governor’s limo to crash late last night?

Granted the old guy was a perpetual grump, a loudmouth and generally cantankerous, and he loved his granddaughter. A big plus in Wade’s estimation.

But if Bart Bellows had good reason to believe Henry Kemp was threatening Governor Lockhart, who was Wade Coltrane, ex-soldier, to argue? He needed the job Bart offered, not only for the money, but also for a second chance.

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Why you hiding behind that beard?”

Wade rubbed the neatly trimmed facial hair. “Not hiding. The ladies tell me it’s sexy.”

The old man snorted. “That flyer must be three months old. I hired a ranch hand a long time ago. What do I need another one for?”

“I hear you’ve got some fences in need of repairing and roundup next week.”

“And some people have big mouths. Where’d you learn all that?”

Wade reached out to stroke the soft muzzle of the gelding. “A couple of mutual acquaintances.”

“I’d bet my Sunday shorts that was Stan and Fred. Those old coots ain’t got a lick of sense.”

“So…do you?”

Kemp’s bushy white brows rose. “Do I what? Have a lick of sense? Hell, yeah.”

Wade chuckled. “I know that, but do you have a need for a ranch hand who knows what he’s doing and knows the lay of the land?”

“I tell you what I don’t need, and that’s a smart-mouth cowboy. Have you learned any better how to take orders?”

“Take ’em, and give ’em.”

The old man glared down at him for a full minute before he spoke again. “You can have a rack in the bunkhouse. Dinner’s at the big house at six-thirty sharp. If you’re not there, you don’t eat.”

With a tip of his hat, Wade stood with his foot on the lower fence rail. “Thanks, Mr. Kemp.”

“Don’t thank me. And don’t make me regret hiring you.”

The old man had walked right into Wade’s trap, believing his story hook, line and sinker. The first step in his infiltration was successful, Wade walked away, his sights set on mission accomplishment. Nothing would get in his way.

LINDSAY KEMP STEERED the rickety ranch truck through the arching gateway of the Long K Ranch. Lyric and Lacey leaned against each other in the backseat of the crew cab, buckled into their booster seats, sound asleep. They usually fell asleep on the way home from the Cradles to Crayons Daycare where they spent two days of the week in the mother’s day-out program. Lindsay couldn’t really afford it, but the girls needed time to play with children their own age. And Lindsay needed the break to handle things in town and on the ranch without four-year-old, identical twins underfoot.

She glanced in the rearview mirror at the black-haired girls and marveled at how they didn’t look a bit like her. Neither child had auburn hair, gray-green eyes or even a single freckle like their mother.

Their biological father had strong genes. He’d been the spitting image of his father, thick black hair, blue eyes and high cheekbones. Somewhere in their ancestry was Apache Indian blood, thus the hair and cheekbones.

Too bad the girls would never know their father and their father would never know them. Because he’d dedicated himself to a career in the Army, Lindsay hadn’t wanted to place a burden on him by telling him that she was pregnant. Almost five years later, the opportunity to enlighten him was well past.

Lindsay glanced at her watch. Crap!

She had exactly ten minutes to get the girls into the house, get herself changed and catch the horses before Zachary showed up for his riding lesson. Stacy, Zachary’s mother, always arrived five minutes early.

Lindsay pressed her foot to the accelerator, roaring down the gravel road toward the ranch house. She skidded to a stop in front of the only home she’d ever known, slammed the truck into Park and jumped out.

“Girls, let’s get you inside. Come on. Wake up.”

Lacey perked up and stared around, her eyes blinking. “Can I have a grilled cheese sandwich?” Lindsay lifted her out of the truck and set her on her feet

“Maybe after riding lessons, unless Grandpa can make it for you.”

Lacey trudged toward the house, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “He burns them. I want you to make me one.”

“Then it’ll have to wait until after lessons.”

Lyric remained fast asleep on the backseat, having tipped over.

Her pale skin and bright pink lips looked angelic. Lindsay didn’t have the heart to wake her. Despite her aching back, she lifted the child and carried her into the house where she laid her on the couch in the living room.

“Gramps,” Lindsay shouted, hurrying down the hallway to her room.

“That you, Lindsay?” a coarse voice called from the study.

“Yes, sir. I’m late for my riding lessons. Can I bother you to keep an eye on the girls?”

“Bother?” Her grandfather appeared in the doorway to his office. “Since when are my great-granddaughters a bother?”

“You’re a dream, Gramps.” Lindsay ducked into her room and yanked a well-worn chambray shirt and equally worn jeans from her closet. “Lacey wants a grilled cheese sandwich. She can wait until I get done with lessons.”

“I’m old, not dead. I can manage a little girl’s sandwich,” her grandfather groused.

Lindsay had learned long ago that Grandpa Kemp’s bark was much worse than his bite. Even the twins had him figured out. Too bad not everyone in Freedom, Texas, understood Henry Kemp. He griped fiercely, and he loved fiercely.

“Gramps, she doesn’t like it burned. Give her a drink and an apple. I’ll make the sandwich when I’m done.”

“I’m perfectly capable of making a sandwich,” he grumbled. “But have it your way.”

“Thanks, Gramps.” Lindsay smiled inside her room, slipping out of her nicest jeans and into worn denim. After lessons, she’d be mucking stalls. No use damaging her only good pair of jeans. “They can come out when they’re fully awake and have had their snack.” Lindsay stripped her best white blouse off and shoved her arms into the chambray shirt.

“Yes, ma’am. Am I getting that old that I’m taking orders from my granddaughter now?”

Lindsay buttoned as she hurried down the hall. She stopped to briefly kiss her grandfather’s cheek. “You’re always the boss, Gramps. I love you.”

The old man rubbed a hand to the place she’d kissed, a frown clearing from his forehead. “Damn, right.”

“Watch your language.” Lindsay sprinted through the house, grabbing sugar cubes from the jar on the table beside the back door.

“I hired a new ranch hand today,” her grandfather called out behind her.

Lindsay stumbled. What? She didn’t have time to stop and go back to question him. A new ranch hand? They couldn’t afford to pay the hands they had. The weight of the world bore down on her shoulders. How could she get it through her grandfather’s head that they didn’t have any money?

She’d just have to apologize to the new hand and send him packing before he put in too many hours. Easy enough. Dealing with her grandfather was an entirely different challenge.

For now she needed to focus on the only lucrative business on the place. The riding lessons, which had started as a way to make a little extra income for her and the girls, had grown into a financial supplement for the ranch. Until they brought in the herd and sent them off to auction, they were pretty well broke. The riding school put food on the table for Lindsay’s family and the ranch hands until cash flow improved.

An SUV pulled to a halt in front of the barn. Stacy Giordano climbed down and waved at Lindsay. “Hey, girl, sorry I’m late. It’s been insane at the governor’s place.”

“Hi, Stacy.” Lindsay hurried toward Stacy. “I’m running late, too.”

“Did you hear about the governor’s accident last night?”

Lindsay ground to a halt in front of the vehicle, her stomach flip-flopping. “Accident?”

“Yeah, I spent my day at the hospital with the governor, her bodyguards and her driver.”

“Holy smokes. What happened?”

“Not sure yet, but they think someone threw nails all over the road. Two of the tires blew and sent them into a ditch.”

“Is everyone all right?”

Stacy nodded. “Mostly minor injuries, but the driver suffered a concussion.”

“Any idea who might have done it?”

“Not yet. The sheriff is checking into it. In the meantime, we’ve had to tighten security even more. Much tighter and we won’t be able to breathe.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Stacy opened the back door to her SUV and helped her son down.

“Hey, Zachary, good to see you.” Lindsay turned toward the barn. “You guys wait just a minute while I catch Whiskers.”

“I can wait, but Zachary will be chomping at the bit to ride.”

Lindsay smiled and waved at Zachary as she passed by. “Let him stand by the fence while I get a bridle.” She stopped again, dug in her pocket and turned to the boy. “Here, you can help me. Hold out your hand with this and Whiskers will come to you.” She pressed a sugar cube into the boy’s hand and curled his fingers around it.

Zachary stared at his closed hand.

“Come on, Zachary. Let’s go see if Whiskers will come to you.” Stacy took his other hand and led him toward the wood-rail fence.

Lindsay raced into the barn grabbing a bridle from the nail on the wall.

A movement in the shadows made her jump.

Frank Dorian pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on, a pitchfork in his hand, the stall beside him open and untouched.

“Are you supposed to be cleaning the stalls?” she asked.

Frank shrugged. “Maybe.”

Anger flared and Lindsay came to a complete halt in front of the big cowboy her grandfather had hired several weeks ago. He had issues taking orders from a woman.

Lindsay didn’t have issues with calling him on it. “Either you are or you aren’t. Which is it?”

The man stepped up to her and looked down his nose into her eyes. “I can think of a lot more interesting things to do in a barn than mucking stalls.” He reached out and trailed his finger down her arm.

Lindsay knocked his hand away, rage burning a path up her chest into her cheeks. “Don’t. Ever. Touch me again.” She glared at him, her lips pressed tightly together. “Do you understand?”

He stepped closer, his chest pushing against hers. “Or what?”

Her heart hammering behind her rib cage, Lindsay refused to step back, refused to back down. “Or I’ll have your butt fired so fast you won’t know what happened.”

“Your grandfather hired me.”

“And I’m telling you, I can fire you.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Care to test the theory?”

Frank leaned down, his lips next to her ear. “Just so you know, no one fires Frank Dorian.”

A shadow blocked the sun streaming in through the barn’s open double doors. “Is there a problem here?”

The low, resonant voice raised gooseflesh along Lindsay’s arms. If she wasn’t so distracted by Frank, she’d swear the voice was familiar. Only one man she’d ever known had the ability to make her shiver all over. “Is there a problem, Frank?” Lindsay asked the man who’d just threatened her.

“No problem.” Frank stepped away from Lindsay and entered the dirty stall, pitchfork in hand.

As soon as he moved, a broad-chested man came into view. With his back to the outside door, his face remained in the shadows.

“Can I help you?” Lindsay asked, moving closer, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention, her knees suddenly wobbly.

“I thought maybe I could help you.”

That voice again.

Lindsay clutched the bridle with nerveless fingers, all the blood draining from her face. It couldn’t be. Not now. Not him.

As though dragged by an invisible rope, she moved closer until she could see the man’s face.

She gasped, her hand going to her throat and then reaching out toward him. He had to be a mirage. “Wade?”

The man with ice-blue eyes and coal-black hair nodded. “Hello, Ms. Kemp. Or should I say Mrs. Murphy?”

Chapter Two

Wade stared down into Lindsay’s gray-green eyes, drinking in every detail of her face from the finely arched brows to her stubborn chin and the freckles sprinkled liberally across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. She’d pulled her glorious mane of fiery auburn hair up into a loose, messy knot, but curling wisps had escaped, framing her face, giving her a vulnerable appearance, belying her strength and fierce independence.

She took his breath away.

“What…” She gulped and started again. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Iraq, Afghanistan or somewhere dangerous.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore, unless you consider the Long K Ranch dangerous.” He had been in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and to hell and back. Nothing could be as bad as being in the sandbox of the Middle East.

“Why here?” Lindsay whispered. “Why now?”

“I’m home. Your grandfather hired me on as a ranch hand.”

Lindsay’s face paled and she blinked several times, her body swaying.

Wade reached for her, afraid she’d fall.

“No!” She held up her hand, knocking his away. “I don’t need you.”

“Sorry. You looked like you were going to faint.”

She squared her shoulders and looked down her nose at him. “Kemps don’t faint.” Even though she tried hard to look strong, her words shook, belying her tough stance.

As stubborn and beautiful as ever.

Seeing her made his chest ache. Wade forced himself to look away. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have a riding lesson to teach. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Don’t you have better things to do in town?”

“I can’t imagine anything better than teaching disabled children to ride, can you?”

He smiled and brushed a hand along her cheek. As soon as he felt the smoothness of her skin, he regretted reaching out to her. But he couldn’t help himself. “Always taking care of people, aren’t you?”

“Yes. You got a problem with that?” She knocked his hand away again. “I take my work seriously.”

He’d expected her to be a full-time assistant for her husband, the good Dr. Murphy. He’d counted on it and could kick himself for his automatic response to her nearness, his desire to hold her, touch her, feel her lips against his.

Lindsay Kemp’s face had been what kept him alive throughout his captivity, what gave him the will to take the next breath. Even though he knew she’d married, that they could never be together, he’d lived to see her face again. “I would have thought you’d be working with the doctor now.”

Her auburn brows wrinkled. “Why would you think that?

“I didn’t think you’d still be working out here.” And if she worked at the Long K Ranch on a regular basis, his mission would be in jeopardy—his focus compromised. “What does your husband think of you coming out here?”

Her brows sank deeper over her eyes. “Husband?” Then her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I’m not married to Cal Murphy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Wade stepped back, his heart skipping several beats before it slammed into his rib cage at a million beats per minute. “Not married? But I thought…”

“If you’d bothered to keep in touch, you’d have known that. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She pushed around him, hurrying toward the saddle racks where she selected a child’s saddle and flung it over her shoulder.

As if he’d just been punched in the gut, Wade stood rooted to the barn floor struggling to remember how to breathe. “What happened? Last time I was here, you were engaged.”

“It didn’t happen.” She marched toward the barn door, her gaze fully averted from him, she refused to meet his eyes.

Stunned by her revelation, it took Wade several seconds to come to grips. He sprang forward, blocking her exit. “Why?”

She stared up into his eyes. “Not because of you, if that’s what you think.”

He let the breath out that he’d been holding, slowly so that she couldn’t tell how much her answer had meant to him, and how much it hurt. “Let me help you.” He reached for the saddle, lifting it effortlessly.

“I don’t need help.” She jerked away, her face flaming a dull red. “I’ve managed on my own for years.”

“I know you don’t need help, but I work here now. Let me do my job.”

“As for that…we’ll see.” She clutched the bridle to her chest with one hand and yanked the saddle from his hands with the other. “In the meantime, don’t bother to unpack. I want to talk to my grandfather first.”

Lindsay marched out of the barn, her head held high like a queen.

With every ounce of his strength he fought to keep from following her, dragging her into his arms and kissing her so thoroughly that she’d forget all about Cal Murphy and the five years he’d been away.

Snickering from the stall behind him made Wade come to his senses faster than his own ability to talk himself down. Until that moment, he’d completely forgotten the man named Frank was still in the same barn with him.

Frank stood leaning on his pitchfork a smirk curling one side of his mouth. “She isn’t any more interested in you than she is me.”

“Shut up, Frank.” Wade stalked to the pile of feed sacks stacked inside the barn door and slung one over his shoulder. Flinging a fifty-pound bag of feed did nothing toward slowing his heart rate or reining in the rampant thoughts racing through his head. And Frank’s smirking attitude just made him want to hit someone.

Lindsay wasn’t married to Cal Murphy.

Wade ripped open the bag and poured sweet feed into one of the feed bins. Back at the stack of feed bags, he hefted another onto his shoulder.

Why hadn’t she married Cal? Was she still living at the Long K Ranch?

One question after another rolled over in his mind until they began repeating themselves.

He’d come to Freedom, Texas, fully expecting to find Lindsay Kemp married and gone from the ranch. If he’d known she was still here, he never would have agreed to go undercover to expose her grandfather.

At that moment he couldn’t get past the one truth.

Lindsay Kemp wasn’t married.

He dumped the last bag of feed into the bin and straightened.

Frank stood looking at him, still leaning on the pitchfork.

Wade glared at Frank. “Gets done quicker if you actually work at it.”

“What do you care? She’ll have you out of here so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

Not if I can help it. With his jaw set, his fingers clenched, Wade strode out of the barn and directly to the big house. He had to talk to Henry Kemp before Lindsay got back to him.

FIVE-YEAR-OLD Zachary ran around in circles, stopping every two or three spins to gather rocks from the ground and line them up in a neat row. He still held the sugar cube clenched in his fist.

Lindsay smiled. Stacy had her hands full with Zachary. Twins were difficult at times, but an energetic autistic child had to be even harder to cope with.

“Zachary, why don’t you feed Whiskers his sugar cube?” Lindsay suggested.

The boy immediately stopped running and held out his hand with the damp lump of sugar.

Whiskers plucked it from his palm with his big, velvety lips.

Zachary giggled and pulled his hand back, wiping it against the side of his jeans.

Lindsay tossed a blanket on the horse and settled the saddle in place over it.

“Who’s the hunk with the beard?” Stacy asked.

Without looking at her friend, Lindsay reached beneath the horse for the leather strap. “Does it matter?”

“Not that I’m in the market or anything, but he’s definitely drool-worthy. Spill, girl, who is he?”

“Wade Coltrane.” Lindsay shoved the leather strap through the girth ring and pulled up on it a little harder than necessary.

Whiskers puffed out his belly and danced a few steps away from her.

“Sorry, boy.” Lindsay smoothed a hand down the horse’s nose.

Stacy tipped her head to the side. “Wade Coltrane…” Her eyes widened and a grin spread across her face. “The Wade Coltrane you used to talk about? Weren’t you two a thing back in high school?”

“That was ages ago. People change. Some grow up and move on.” Lindsay didn’t like the way this conversation was going. “I’m glad you’ve been bringing Zachary here. He seems to like the horses.”

“He loves it. If nothing else, he’s getting fresh air and sunshine.” Stacy planted her hands on her hips. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Yeah, the other subject is off-limits.”

“Off-limits?” Stacy pouted. “You’re no fun. Just when we were getting somewhere with Wade.”

“I’m not getting anywhere with him. Apparently my grandfather hired him. I can just as easily fire him.” She straightened and glanced down at Zachary. “Ready to ride?”

Zachary danced in place, staring up at the horse, his eyes rounded.

“Let me get him up there. I never know how he’ll react.” Stacy pulled her son into her arms, talking to him in soothing tones. “Hey, sweetie, Whiskers wants to take you for a ride.”

Lindsay steadied the horse, stroking the big animal’s back as Stacy settled Zachary in the saddle.

As though a switch had been turned, Zachary calmed and sat still, a smile spreading across his little face.

Lindsay loved this part of her job. When a disabled child made a connection with the animal, all her efforts seemed worth it. It didn’t pay much, but every little bit helped and the rewards were far deeper than monetary.

She adjusted the stirrups to fit the length of the boy’s legs, and handed him the reins, laying them in his hands the way a western rider should hold them. With her fingers hooked through the bridle close to the horse’s mouth, Lindsay looked up at the boy. “Ready, Zachary?”

The child grunted and rocked in his saddle. He was ready.

As Lindsay walked the horse around the ring, her thoughts strayed to the man she’d left in the barn.

Her stomach did a complete flip-flop. Wade Coltrane had returned to Freedom. Oh God, why now? She’d spent the last five years trying her hardest to forget the man. He’d blown through on leave five years ago, just when she thought she’d gotten over him the first time, upended her life and left.

Lindsay had agreed to marry Cal Murphy, the most eligible bachelor in town. All her financial woes would have been solved and she would have been married to a rock-solid, honest-to-goodness nice guy.

Then Wade showed up, wearing his Class A greens, his hair cut high and tight, clean-shaven and so handsome that he took her breath away. He’d rocked her world all over again.

She’d thrown everything out the window when he’d taken her in his arms and made mad, passionate love to her. She’d forgotten her promise to Cal, forgotten the years she’d pined for Wade, forgotten everything…including birth control.

When she’d woken up in his truck the next morning, she’d been so horrified that she’d betrayed Cal, she’d told Wade to leave.

And he had. He left and shortly after returning to his duty station, Wade was deployed to Iraq.

Two weeks later, Lindsay discovered she was pregnant.

When she’d broken the news to Cal, he’d demanded a DNA test. Cal wasn’t the father.

Lindsay knew it had to be Wade. When the girls were born with thick black hair and blue eyes, all doubt disappeared.

The sound of girls giggling reached her ears, bringing her out of the past and back to the present.

“Oh God, the girls!” She nearly dropped the reins and ran from the pen.

One look at Zachary reminded her that she couldn’t end the lesson now. The little boy needed the structure of set times and routines to make him comfortable. Lindsay couldn’t do anything but what she got paid to do.

She looked up toward the house and nearly had a heart attack.

Wade walked toward her, Lyric and Lacey skipping along beside him, each holding one of his big hands. He looked so natural, like he belonged with the girls. And they looked just like their father.

Five years of guilt rose in her throat like bile.

She hadn’t known how to tell him then. He’d been deployed, she’d sent him away. It was easier to go on with life on her own, carrying the big secret with her. No one knew except Lindsay who the twins’ father was.

Seeing them together, how could anyone miss the resemblance?

“Tall, dark, handsome and with the added bonus of being good with children.” Stacy grinned at Lindsay. “If you’re not calling dibs, can I?”

“No!” Lindsay said the one word with such force that Whiskers jerked against the bit, jarring Zachary.

The boy dropped the reins and gripped the saddle horn, his face crinkling in a frown.

“Sorry about that, Zachary.” Lindsay stroked the boy’s leg, gathered the reins and handed them to him again. She and Zachary both needed calming after her outburst. One more reason she couldn’t have Wade Coltrane working at the Long K Ranch. She wouldn’t get any work done knowing he was around. Not that she cared for him. She was long over her girlish infatuation.

The twins had readjusted her focus on what was more important. Providing them a good home was the number one goal in Lindsay’s mind.

Lyric and Lacey smiled and laughed all the way to the fence where Stacy stood.

“Look what I found. More students for riding lessons.” He grinned at Lindsay, his gaze challenging her.

What could she say in front of the girls? Afraid she’d blurt out the truth, Lindsay kept her lips tightly shut.

Wade swung Lacey up in his arms and perched her on the rail in front of him.

“Me! Do me!” Lyric raised her hands.

Wade swung her up to sit beside her sister, a hand on each girl to keep them from falling into the pen. “How many children do you teach?” Wade asked.

“A few.” Lindsay guarded her words, her gaze shooting from the girls to Wade and across to Stacy whose eyes had narrowed. She raised a finger and tapped her lips.

Please don’t say anything, Lindsay begged silently. She didn’t want Stacy to state the obvious.

Based on his easy rapport with the twins, Wade hadn’t put the pieces together. He didn’t see himself in the miniature versions of him right under his nose.

If she didn’t have an autistic child riding a horse that she was leading, Lindsay might have given in to the urge to run screaming from the pen.

“I want to ride next,” Lacey demanded.

“I want to ride next,” Lyric parroted.

Wade laughed and turned to Stacy. “Hi, I’m Wade Coltrane, the new ranch hand.” He held out his hand.

Stacy took it, a grin spreading across her pretty face.

At that moment, Lindsay could have scratched her friend’s eyes right out of her head.

She wanted to scream Hands off!

But she couldn’t. Five years ago, she’d made it clear that she didn’t want Wade in her life. Now that she had the girls, she had them to consider. And she didn’t want Wade back if the only reason was the girls.

Lindsay closed her eyes and counted to five. What the heck was she thinking? The girls were as much his as they were hers. He was bound to figure it out sooner or later. Better to tell him, let him get all mad and hope it blows over so she can get on with her life as a single mother.

But not now. Not here. And not in front of the girls and Stacy.

And did she really think he’d let it blow over? Let her continue on with full custody of their girls like their father never existed?

Her feet dragged in the dust of the pen as she led Whiskers in a circle.

The steady, ordered life she’d carefully constructed for the girls was about to change and she could do very little to stop it.

“Mommy, can I ride Little Joe?” Lacey called out.

“Mommy, can I ride Sweetie Pie?” Lyric asked.

Lindsay stared across the length of the pen, her gaze capturing Wade’s as realization dawned on him.

That look of utter shock could not be faked. He stared at her and then down at the girls. “These girls are yours?”

Chapter Three

A hundred questions barreled through Wade’s head. Lindsay had twin daughters? Who was the father? Where was he now? Did he live at the ranch with Lindsay? Where did Cal Murphy fit in the picture? Was Cal the father?

Wade stared at the tops of the girls’ heads. Lindsay had children.

Anger followed closely behind the shock. If Cal was the father, why the hell didn’t he step up to the responsibility of raising his own children? Why hadn’t he married Lindsay?

“Zachary, sweetie, the lesson is over for now.” Lindsay stopped the horse at the rail in front of Stacy and gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Stacy, I just can’t do it today.” She reached up and hooked Zachary beneath the arms.

He clung to the saddle horn and grunted, his face wrinkling in a fierce frown. “Ride!”

Wade placed the girls on the ground and entered the pen with Lindsay. “Hey, big guy, let me help you down.”

The little boy’s eyes rounded and his gaze darted from Lindsay to Stacy and back to Wade.

When Wade reached up for him, Zachary let go of the horn and let Wade lift him off. As soon as he cleared the saddle, he reached for his mother.

Stacy took him in her arms and hugged him. “It’s okay, Zachary. Mr. Coltrane is a nice man. He just wants to help.” She looked across at Lindsay, her brows rising as if in silent question.

Lindsay shook her head. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow at the fundraiser, right?”

“Right. I kinda have to be there.” Stacy laughed. “Seeing as I’m organizing it. And if you’re in town before then, call me, we can do lunch.” She held her thumb and pinky to her face like she was talking into a telephone and mouthed the words call me.

“Yeah, I will,” Lindsay lied. She loved Stacy, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk to her best friend about Wade Coltrane. Not yet, not when she didn’t know what to do or say. She led Whiskers out of the pen and toward the barn.

“Can I ride Whiskers now?” Lacey danced beside Lindsay out of range of the horse’s hooves.

“Not now. I have to get supper on the table. Maybe tomorrow morning when it’s nice and cool outside.”

Lacey’s face puckered in a frown. “But I want to ride now.”

“I want to ride, too.” Lyric caught up with Lacey and automatically reached for her sister’s hand.

“You can help me brush Whiskers. How about that?”

Both girls hopped up and down. “Yay! We get to brush Whiskers!”

Lindsay thanked God for the buffer her girls created, delaying the inevitable confrontation with Wade. “As long as you’re working here, and I’m not saying that it will last, you can bring in the horses from the pasture. They need to be fed.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed as if he could read her mind and knew she was stalling. “We need to talk.”

No, we don’t. She led Whiskers into the barn and tied him to the outside of his stall, completely ignoring the man she’d left standing in the barnyard. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him watching her and her skin twitched, her heart beating ninety-to-nothing, the mind-numbing, breath-stealing sexual attraction she’d always felt toward Wade still palpable and real. When he turned and walked toward the pasture to bring in the horses, she breathed a sigh and vowed to make quick work of brushing Whiskers so that she could get to the house before Wade.

She had to talk with her grandfather. Wade Coltrane couldn’t work at the Long K Ranch. After he discovered the girls were his, he’d be impossible to avoid. At least if he lived in town, they’d only meet when he had his scheduled visitation.

Lindsay grabbed two hard-bristled brushes and a curry comb, handing the brushes to the girls. “Stand on either side of his head so that he can see you. I don’t want him to spook and kick you.”

Lacey ducked beneath Whiskers’s chin and brushed as high as she could reach. Lyric spent her time petting the horse’s soft nose, the brush forgotten in her other hand.

Meanwhile, Lindsay removed the saddle and blanket, storing them on the saddle rack before hurrying to the feed bin where she scooped up a bucket of sweet feed. She was hooking the bucket to the inside of Whiskers’s stall when Wade led two horses into the barn.

“Where do you want them?” he asked.

“The sorrel mare is Sweetie Pie, she goes in the end stall. Little Joe is the bay, he goes next to Sweetie Pie.” Lindsay turned to the girls. “Okay, I’ll finish up. You two go on up to the house and wash your hands. You can help me cook dinner.”

“Can we have macaroni and cheese?” Lacey asked, her blue eyes sparkling so much like Wade’s in the light shining in through the open barn door.

“I thought you wanted grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Lacey bounced up and down. “We want macaroni and cheese now.”

“Yeah, macaroni and cheese.” Lyric took her sister’s hand, grinning.

“Okay.” How could Lindsay refuse when they looked so eager? “But you have to eat your green beans, too.”

Both girls shouted, “Yay!” Then they handed their brushes to Lindsay and ran for the door.

Lindsay realized her mistake as she stood with the brushes in her hand, alone in the barn with Wade. She grabbed Whiskers’s bridle and led him into the stall, closing the gate behind her. Taking her time, she finished currying the horse, while she held her breath, willing Wade to go back out to the pasture. As soon as he left, she could escape to the house and have that conversation with her grandfather.

She must have groomed the horse twice before she realized she had stalled long enough. Lindsay slipped the bridle from Whiskers’s head and ducked out the stall door. The barn was empty. Wade had left. Sweetie Pie nickered from her stall, wanting her feed.

“Can’t you wait until Wade feeds you?” Lindsay called out softly.

Sweetie Pie nickered again and Little Joe added his protest, stomping his foot in the hard-packed dirt.

“Really? You can’t wait? But I can’t stick around. I can’t do this now. I’m not ready.” Her heart banging against her ribs, her body tense with the urge to flee, Lindsay looked from the horses to the open barn door. She sighed, grabbed two buckets and scooped up sweet feed—one for Sweetie Pie and one for Little Joe—and hung them inside their stall doors.

Still no sign of Wade or the other horses he was supposed to bring in. “You got lucky this time,” she muttered to herself, heading for the barn door. “He’s going to corner you sooner or later and will want to know the truth.”

“Truth about what?” Wade rounded the corner of the barn door, leading a dappled gray gelding and a golden palomino mare.

Lindsay’s face burned. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Wade smiled, his blue eyes twinkling just like Lacey’s had only minutes before.

Lindsay’s chest tightened. That smile had gotten her into more trouble than she could have ever imagined five years ago. It still had the effect of turning her knees to rubber.

Granted, he looked different. No longer the clean-cut soldier who’d come home on leave. He sported a dark, neatly trimmed beard that made him look even more dangerous and…sexier than ever.

“I always liked it that you talked to your horses.” He didn’t move, he and the horses more or less blocking Lindsay’s escape route.

“I understand them and I like to think they understand me.” She shrugged, wishing she had made her run for the house when she’d had the chance. This conversation reminded her of others equally as intimate in the setting and content.

Anxious to leave him, but not wanting him to know just how he affected her, Lindsay strode forward and reached for the dappled gray gelding. “Come on, Stormy. You’ll be wanting your feed.” When her hand touched Wade’s, that same old shocking electric current coursed through her veins, headed directly south. Heat flared throughout her body, igniting a flame she’d thought burned out five years ago.

She jerked the reins from Wade’s hand and practically ran for Stormy’s stall. Why did she have to be so aware of this man? He’d broken her heart more than once, hadn’t she learned her lesson?

After she got Stormy into his stall, she shoved the latch closed and turned to run for the house.

Before she could take two steps, Wade had the mare’s stall door closed and he’d spun to face her.

Lindsay sidestepped him, but he didn’t let her pass, grabbing her by the arms.

“Look, Lindsay, I’m not here to start something between you and me. I know that’s over. I’m just here because I need a job.”

Where his fingers curled around her arms her skin tingled, reminding Lindsay of the last time he’d held her. The magic of their lovemaking and how much she had wanted to be with him always. The depth of all that emotion pressed against her chest, making it impossible for her to breathe, much less talk.

Her eyes blurred and she realized in horror that she would cry if she didn’t get away from him. And no matter what she did, she refused to cry in front of Wade Coltrane. She’d done enough crying over this man and, as her grandfather would lecture, Kemps don’t cry.

Forcing air past her vocal cords, she said, “I don’t want you here, no matter what your reasons.”

For a brief moment, a sadness so deep it almost hurt her to see flashed in his blue eyes. Then it was gone and his hands fell to his sides, his lips firming into a straight line. “I understand. And I hope you’ll understand that I work for your grandfather.” He spun on his heels and walked out of the barn.

Lindsay stared at his back, anger replacing sadness and the lingering waves of lust of a moment ago. “How dare he talk to me that way?” She pushed her sleeves up and stomped toward the house. Her grandfather would see it her way and fire Wade Coltrane’s butt quicker than he could say I’m sorry.

When she reached the house, the girls waited in the kitchen clean and ready to start cooking supper. Her grandfather was nowhere to be found.

Damn.

WADE FED the horses and turned them back out to pasture before he grabbed his worn, military duffle bag from the truck and headed for the bunkhouse to clean up. Frank beat him there, his booted feet propped on the footboard of his bunk.

“Surprise, surprise,” Wade muttered to himself. Out loud he asked, “Where are the other hands?”

“Out with Old Man Kemp, shoring up the cattle chutes, gettin’ them ready for roundup. Why do you care?”

“I care because I work here and, if they need help, I should be out there.”

“They’ll be back any minute for supper. Lindsay sure can rustle up some fine grub. Not only is she good-lookin’, she’s a good cook. Everything a man could want in a woman.” Frank stuck a hay straw in his mouth, his gaze narrowed as if waiting for a rise from Wade.

Wade tamped down the anger quick to rise when Frank made mention of Lindsay in any way. He ignored the guy and stared around the bunkhouse. “Which bunks aren’t taken?”

“Those.” Frank jerked his head past his bunk to the ones where thin mattresses lay bare on the bed frames.

Dorian’s gaze followed him as Wade moved past. “Hear you used to live on the ranch.”

Wade found a wooden footlocker beside the bed, opened it and shoved his duffle bag into it without unpacking. “You heard right.” He unbuckled the lock on the bag, grabbed out a shaving kit, towel and clean clothes.

“Prior Army?” Dorian asked.

“Yup. What about you?”

“Same. Did some time on active duty.” Frank crossed his arms behind his head. “Why come back to this podunk town?”

“Needed a job.” Wade gathered his things and straightened.

Wade could care less about Frank and his past but, as a new hired hand, he had to try to fit in, even if he didn’t plan to stay long. As soon as he had the evidence he needed, he’d be gone from the Long K Ranch. “What’s your story?”

Frank shrugged. “Same.”

The bunkhouse door opened and two men walked in shaking dust from their cowboy hats.

The first guy, a short, grizzled older man, with a scraggly white beard and skin as tough as leather, tossed his cowboy hat onto the first bed. He held out his hand to Wade. “Roy Kingery, folks call me Dusty.”

Wade smiled, shook hands with Dusty and introduced himself.

The second man, tall, thin as a rail and with facial features as gaunt as Abraham Lincoln, strode in, head down, still wearing his cowboy hat. He didn’t say anything, walked straight to his bed and unlaced well-worn leather chaps.

Dusty jerked his head toward the tall lean man. “That’s Billy Moore. He don’t talk much, but ain’t a man who can out-rope, outride or outshoot him in the county.”

Wade nodded toward Billy. “Good to know you.” He glanced pointedly at the items in his hands. “Dinner’s at six-thirty, right?”

“Yup, and you don’t want to be late for Miss Lindsay’s cookin’. She might ride as good as the rest of us, but she also knows her way around the kitchen.”

“Guess I better get cleaned up.” Wade strode the length of the bunkhouse aware of the men’s gazes following him, summing him up.

The bunkhouse reminded Wade of old World War II barracks with a neat row of bunks on each side and a communal latrine and shower facility at one end. If he hadn’t been through all that he had, he’d almost feel like a new recruit at boot camp.

He wasn’t the green trainee he had been all those years ago. The months he’d spent fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq had sharpened his fighting skills, but the time he’d been held captive in a Taliban terrorist camp had marked him for life.

His fingers rose to the scar near his right eye, memories flooding in to remind him of what he’d been subjected to. The body had a way of forgetting pain, but he could never forget what he’d done. Neither could he forgive himself for cracking.

He showered quickly, toweling off as the other men wandered in naked, bars of soap in hand.

Wade hurried through shaving, dressed in jeans and a clean black T-shirt, and pulled his boots on. He wanted a chance to speak with Old Man Kemp before supper. If Lindsay had already gotten to him, his mission could be over before it even started. No matter what Lindsay said, Wade would keep this job if he had to trick Old Man Kemp into agreeing to it.

With the three ranch hands still washing up, Wade climbed the slight rise to the ranch house. As he passed by an open window, Lindsay’s voice carried to him on the warm, late-summer breeze.

“We don’t need another ranch hand, Gramps. We can’t afford the ones we have.”

Wade stopped outside the window to Henry Kemp’s office and stood beside a tree, out of view, tamping down the surge of guilt he felt for eavesdropping on a man who’d done him a favor by hiring him.

Yet Old Man Kemp was his target. He had to eavesdrop to know what he had planned. If the man really did want to harm Governor Lockhart, Wade had to find the evidence that would put him away before he succeeded

“Roundup is next week,” Henry said. “Surely we can afford to keep him at least one week. Besides, I liked the Coltranes. It was a sad day when his old man died in that flash flood. Wade’s daddy did good work for us. It’s the least I can do for an old friend.”

Wade remembered that day when Henry Kemp came to the high school. Wade had been a senior then, staring out the window at the rain clouds. The guys had been excited that football practice would be wet that day. Coach never skipped practice. They’d be playing in the mud and, just like when they were all kids, they loved playing in the mud.

Henry had taken him out of that classroom that day to tell him that his father had died at a low-water crossing. He and his horse had been swept downstream. The horse made it, but Jackson Coltrane didn’t.

His chest tight, Wade forced himself to listen to the conversation.

“Gramps, what will we pay him with? The bank account is down to nothing. We haven’t been paid for the last ten steers we sold at auction, and I’m not having any luck getting a bank to loan us money to tide us over until roundup. We’re broke.”

Wade leaned out enough to catch a glimpse of Lindsay’s face. With color high in her cheeks and her green eyes flashing, she’d never been more beautiful.

Henry slammed his palm flat on the desk. “Damn Lockharts!”

“Oh, please.” Lindsay flung her hand in the air and spun away from her grandfather. “Why bring them up? What happened with them was years ago.”

“Yeah, but they tricked me into selling that land to them. While they’re sitting all fat, rich and happy, we’re struggling to put bread on the table.”

Lindsay turned and stalked toward her grandfather’s desk, where she planted her fists on her hips. “You really have to get past that. Fifteen years is long enough to hold a grudge.”

Her grandfather’s back straightened. “Yeah, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. That land had oil. We were sitting on a gold mine and didn’t even know it. Somehow the Lockharts knew. They just knew it. And now look at them, richer than Midas, and lording it over everyone else!”

“You can’t undo what’s done. We have to move on and make the best of our lot in life.”

“And that’s my plan.” Henry Kemp stood and walked around the desk, taking his granddaughter by the hands. “Mark my words, things are gonna change around here.”

Lindsay’s brows wrinkled, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I’m workin’ on something.” Old Man Kemp dropped her hands and spun away, his lips turned up in a ghost of a smile.

Wade moved around the tree and ducked behind a bush. If Henry saw him spying on him, he’d fire him on the spot.

The old man looked out the window, past the tree where Wade had been standing to something far beyond. “I’m going to make things happen that should have happened a long time ago.”

“Gramps, you aren’t planning something crazy, are you?”

The old man’s lips pressed into a firm line. “I ain’t tellin’, but it’ll make things right around here. And about damn time.”

Lindsay moved up beside her grandfather and laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t like that you’re keeping secrets from me.”

“This is one I had to keep, darlin’.” He patted her hand. “It’s for your own good. There are people who might try to stop me.”

Voices sounded from the bunkhouse.

Wade doubled back around the house and came in from the opposite side, his mind churning through all he’d heard.

Henry Kemp had a plan. Question was, did it involve killing Governor Lockhart?

Wade had to find the evidence, and fast, of previous attempts to kill the governor, before another attempt met with success.

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