The Cowboy's Claim

by Nina Crespo

  She’d heard they were staying at the guesthouse this weekend. Hopefully, his dad would finish whatever had kept him busy during the birthday party so he could devote more time to his son.

  Blake waited for her at the edge of the lot near the path leading to the stable. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

  “I ran out of energy somewhere between the water bucket race and the impromptu soccer game.”

  “Same here. Why don’t you take off? I can handle the rest.”

  “Are you sure?” Even as she asked, she couldn’t stop her shoulders from slumping in relief.

  “Yeah. Me and one of the other grooms will pick up the rest of the equipment at the pavilion in the morning. I’m just going to check the stall one more time, then I’m out.”

  Ten minutes later, she trudged into the guesthouse tired and hungry. It was only four in the afternoon, and the sun hadn’t gone down yet, but she was definitely in for the rest of the day.

  After a semilong hot shower, she got comfy in an off-the-shoulder gray sweatshirt and peach yoga pants, then collapsed on the bed. She should review the horse stable terms she’d written down on the pad sitting on the dresser, along with the horse encyclopedia, anatomy chart and horse care books Blake had loaned her. Some might consider studying all of that overkill, but the more she understood, the less chance she’d be caught off guard during her audition.

  Her gaze drifted to Tristan’s hat on the crimson chair by the window, and a smile, as big as the one that had taken over her face when he’d loaned it her, took over her face. She’d behaved like a schoolgirl with a crush, practically snatching the hat from his hand, but it had felt so good to wear it. And it gave her a reason to see him again. Maybe she’d buy him lunch as a thank-you and drool over him in the process.

  Most of the guys she’d gone out with back in California sculpted their bodies in a gym for show. But Tristan’s strength was honed from handling horses, lifting feed bags and carrying around supplies. He wasn’t too good or too busy to jump in and help out if needed, and the staff seemed to appreciate that about him.

  Just like she appreciated the way he filled out a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He probably looked even sexier wearing a cowboy hat.

  Commotion in the hallway pulled her from daydreaming. Someone was yelling as if they were upset, and the voice sounded familiar.

  She got up and peeked outside the door.

  E.J.’s father stood at the end of the hallway with Philippa. “I don’t care if you have to search every room in this place.”

  “We’re doing that now, Mr. Harrold.” Philippa pointed to members of the Tillbridge staff at the other end of the hall, knocking on doors. “We’re talking to all the guests, and someone is searching the stable. I’ve also contacted the local sheriff’s department as a precaution.”

  “The sheriff’s office...” His shoulders drooped and his head fell forward. “E.J. can’t be lost. We have to find him.”

  E.J. was missing? Concern drove Chloe back inside where she hurriedly changed into a T-shirt and jeans. After shoving her feet into a pair of tennis shoes, she grabbed her key card, and ran out the door.

  Downstairs near the front desk was a buzz of activity.

  Philippa directed members of the housekeeping staff to search the area around the cottages.

  Curious and concerned guests questioned the front desk clerk about what was going on. Some of them even offered to help with the search.

  E.J.’s father stood talking to Mace in the seating area. He swiped impatiently over the screen of his phone. “I have pictures of him. I know I do.”

  The other fathers at the party had taken pictures of the boys and E.J. riding horses and at the cookout. If he couldn’t find one, he could contact them, but she’d give him a minute to find one before making that suggestion.

  Philippa’s gaze locked with hers, and Chloe went to her. “What can I do to help?”

  Just as Philippa was about to answer, Tristan came through the door.

  He glanced at Mace with E.J.’s father, then went straight to Philippa who looked surprised to see him.

  “I thought you were going to Baltimore,” she said.

  “I was only a few miles away from here when Blake called. Any new information on the boy?” Clean-shaven, and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved white pullover with the sleeves pushed up, he smelled appealingly of cologne, just like he had the night they’d played darts.

  “No.” Philippa shook her head. “We’re still talking to guests and checking the cottages.”

  “When was the last time his father saw him?” he asked.

  “A little over a half hour ago in the restaurant at dinner.” Philippa’s gaze went to E.J.’s father. “He got a phone call and was having problems hearing the person on the line, so he left E.J. at the table and went to the hallway just past the hostess station. When he came back, E.J. was gone.”

  Worry ticked up in Chloe. “Did anyone in the restaurant notice E.J. leaving?”

  “No one we’ve spoken to, so far, but it was busy when he and his father were there. Most people were focused on the menu or their meals, and not everyone who was dining in the restaurant is staying here at the guesthouse. Some of them have already left.”

  The weighted pause in the conversation allowed room for unsettling speculation. Had E.J. left on his own or been taken by a stranger? The possibility brought up a sick feeling in Chloe. Unconsciously, she’d moved closer to Tristan, and she welcomed the solid press of his arm against hers.

  “What about the security cameras?” he asked. “The one in the hall outside of the restaurant entrance could have caught him walking out.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, but apparently it wasn’t in a good position to get a clear view.” Chloe and Tristan followed Philippa’s glance toward the open door to an office behind the reception desk. “One of the sheriff’s deputies is scanning the footage from the other cameras for clues.”

  “Do you know what he was wearing?” Tristan asked.

  “Jeans, a yellow T-shirt with red lettering on it and mostly white tennis shoes.” Philippa’s phone buzzed, and a trace of uncertainty came into her face. She looked to Tristan. “It’s Zurie. I was on the phone with her at the front desk when Mr. Harrold alerted us that E.J. was missing. She’s probably calling to find out what happened. Do you want to talk to her?”

  “No. You give her an update. I’m heading to the stable to pick up a radio and check in with Blake, then I’m going to look for E.J. Someone needs to contact me with any new details from the deputies about the search so we can coordinate with them.”

  “I’ll tell Mace.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Chloe interjected. “I mean, unless you’re riding horses to do it.”

  “No. I’m driving.” His gaze moved down and up. “A storm’s coming in. Do you have a rain jacket?”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’ve got an extra one. Come on.” He led the way out of the guesthouse.

  Gray clouds obscured the late-evening sun, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

  Once they buckled into their seats in his 4Runner, he sped out of the parking lot and hung a left on the main road.

  The open grassy field belonging to Tillbridge was on the left. Another field dotted with trees endlessly unfolded on the other side of the road.

  He made two more lefts and stopped in the stable parking lot. “I’ll be right back.” He jumped out and jogged to the back door of the stable leading to the hallway outside of his office.

  Moments later, he came back out wearing a short dark green rain jacket and carrying another matching jacket and a two-way radio.

  She accepted both as he got back in the SUV. “Still no signs of E.J.?”

  “Not in the stable or fields near the guesthouse. Blake’s taking an ATV to check the riding t
rails. We’re driving to the north and south pastures.”

  Rain started to fall intermittently. Each plop on the windshield marked time, magnifying the seconds passing without hearing good news.

  The radio crackled. “Tristan—this is Mace.”

  She handed it to him and he pressed the talk button. “Go ahead, Mace.”

  “We just finished reviewing the security footage. The boy slipped out alone from the side entrance facing the cottages. Over.”

  “If he made it past the cottages, he could be in the south pasture. We’re heading that way now.”

  “Copy that. We’ll widen our search in the other directions. Keep me posted on this channel.”

  “Roger, out.”

  Chloe accepted the radio back. “The south pasture—that’s near the area where we held the cookout. Do you think he made it that far?”

  Tristan drove out of the parking lot and turned onto the road. “At this point, we can’t rule anything out. I’m just wondering what he was thinking when he left his dad. Did he just wander off because he was bored or was he planning to run away?”

  “Or was he upset over being ignored? His father stayed on his phone for almost the entire party. He barely acknowledged E.J. during the riding lessons. In fact, I don’t think he took one picture of E.J. or the party.”

  “I noticed his dad checking out, too. The same thing happening at dinner had to have really hurt him.” Tristan released a heavy breath. “Some parents just don’t understand that nothing else can make up for them being there when their kids need them.”

  Chloe couldn’t imagine otherwise. Growing up, her mom and dad had been overachievers in the paying attention department. They’d never missed a dance recital, school play or game where she’d been a cheerleader. Her junior year of high school, she’d complained to them about needing more independence, aka time with her captain of the football team boyfriend. They’d reluctantly agreed to keep their distance.

  Tristan pulled up to the closed pasture gate, and she started pulling on the jacket he’d given her. “I’ll open it.”

  After he told her the code to the locking mechanism, she flipped up the hood of the jacket and got out.

  The wind molded the oversized jacket to her and whipped the hem around the top of her thighs as she hurried to unlock the gate. She waited for him to drive in, closed it, then hopped back in the car.

  Her shivers caught Tristan’s attention, and he turned off the cool air blowing through the vents. As he drove the perimeter, they came upon a smaller gated area on the right where the cookout had been held.

  Tristan parked. “Stay here, I’ll check around.” He got out and entered the gated area.

  The grill that had been set up under the pavilion was gone, replaced by the folded white tents, chairs and buffet tables on the concrete slab.

  He walked past it to the corner bar used for adult parties that was covered by a tarp. He briefly looked under the covering, then walked around to the other side.

  Was E.J. under there?

  Tristan bent down.

  Hope dissipated when he stood with just a soccer ball in his hand.

  He jogged to the car and tossed the ball in the back seat as he got in. “I’m guessing this belongs to E.J.”

  “Or one of his friends. They were kicking a couple of them around during the cookout.”

  The rumble of thunder reverberated through her seat. Suddenly it was if every cloud in the sky had opened up and rained poured out of them.

  “Oh, no. He’ll get soaked.” Helplessness intertwined with her concern. Was E.J. scared? Hopefully, he’d be as brave as he’d been when he’d gotten on a horse for the first time that afternoon.

  Tristan reached over and squeezed her hand.

  She squeezed back, appreciating they weren’t trading baseless reassurances that E.J. would just turn up. She, Tristan and everyone else had to do their best to find him.

  He started the SUV. “There’s one more place we need to search while we’re here.”

  “Where? It’s just an open field.”

  “The run-in.” Tristan pointed to the open wood shelter on the far side of the field barely visible in the rain.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Tristan drove across the grassy field, Chloe peered through the rain flooding the windshield and battled disappointment. She didn’t see anything near the run-in. “Where do we go from here?” she asked.

  “We’ll head north.”

  As the windshield wiper in front of her swept past clearing away the rain, she spotted a small patch of yellow in the corner of the open structure with a low sloped roof. Philippa had said E.J.’s shirt was that color. “I see something!”

  “Where?”

  She pointed, hoping it wasn’t an illusion. “There...near the end on the left. See it?”

  “I do.” Tristan sped up, and the patch of yellow took form.

  “It’s him!”

  Once he stopped the car, they both jumped out.

  E.J. sat against the back of the partial enclosure, his thin arms wrapped around his knees that were pulled up to his chest. He looked up at them. Hints of apprehension filled his face along with relief, as if he expected to be scolded.

  Tristan took off his jacket and hunkered down in front of him. “Hey, little man. You okay?”

  Shivering, E.J. snuggled into the jacket Tristan laid over him. “I hurt my ankle when I tripped.”

  “Which one?” Chloe knelt beside him. Lifting the hem of the jacket around his legs, she revealed his dirt-smudged sneakers.

  E.J. wiggled his right foot and winced.

  Tristan grasped his shoulder. “Can I take a closer look?”

  He nodded and Tristan took off E.J.’s shoe. “It’s definitely swollen. You might have sprained it. I’ll carry you to the SUV. Then I’ll radio in to let your dad know that you’re okay.”

  E.J. shrank away and blinked back tears. “Dad doesn’t care, he’s just mad at me.”

  “No.” She and Tristan spoke at the same time.

  From the stiff set of E.J.’s little shoulders, he didn’t want anyone to coddle him. Chloe patted his knee instead. “Your dad is really worried about you.”

  “All he cares about is work.” Tears welled in E.J.’s eyes. “I wish we never came here. I didn’t want a stupid party.” His voice cracked. “I just wanted to be with my dad.” He dipped his head and started to cry.

  Scooting closer, Chloe drew him into a hug and E.J. held her tight. Nothing in the hundreds of scripts she’d read in the past could help her find the words to comfort him. She swallowed against a lump in her throat. With all the effort his dad had put into the party, surely he loved him. E.J. shivered helplessly against her, and Chloe started to choke up even more as she held him a bit tighter.

  Tristan bent down. He soothingly stroked her back as he whispered in her ear. “I’ll be right back.”

  He went to the SUV and returned a moment later with the radio. “Mace wants us to sit tight. Your dad is coming with him.” He crouched down eye level with E.J. “And he wants to talk to you.”

  E.J. wiped his eyes. “He does?”

  Tristan handed him the radio. “Push this button on the side so he can hear you.”

  E.J. pressed the button. “Dad?”

  “E.J.—is that you? I’m coming. It’s okay. I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

  “Dad... I’m sorry. I left my ball behind...the nice one you gave me last Christmas. I just wanted to find it.”

  “I know. I should have let you know that I heard you when you told me that at dinner.”

  The squawk from a siren drew their attention. A patrol car with flashing blue lights cut across the pasture.

  As soon as it stopped, E.J.’s dad got out of the front passenger seat and hurried over to them.

  Tri
stan stood to the side, out of his way, and helped Chloe to her feet. Pinpricks raced over her legs from kneeling in an awkward position. She leaned on him and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

  As Mr. Harrold hugged E.J. his eyes closed as if he was saying a silent prayer.

  “Dad, I’m sorry.” E.J. burrowed into his father’s chest. “I got scared.”

  “It’s okay. I’m here now.” E.J.’s father scooped him up in his arms.

  Seeing father and son holding each other as E.J.’s dad carried him to the patrol car filled Chloe’s chest with soft emotions. They clearly had some kind of bond. Hopefully, E.J. would find a way to tell his father what he told her and his father would listen.

  Mace gave Chloe and Tristan a nod. “Good job on finding him. There’s an ambulance on its way to the guesthouse. I’ll see you there.” He hustled to his patrol car.

  Suddenly, Tristan released her. “The soccer ball.” He hurried to the SUV, took it from the back seat, and handed what had led to the evening’s adventure to E.J. who sat in the back cuddled next to his dad.

  They returned Tristan’s jacket.

  Mace drove off with them.

  Tristan came back to her. He slipped his jacket back on. “E.J.’s dad said to tell you thank you.”

  The exhale that rushed out of her, as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time while looking for E.J., came with unexpected tears. She fanned her face. “Why am I crying? We found him. It’s over.”

  Tristan tugged her by the hand, pulling her closer, then held her by the waist. “It’s been a rough hour.”

  “It really has.” Needing more contact with him, she rested her forehead against his shoulder, not caring that he was wet from the rain. “I was afraid that we wouldn’t find him.”

  “But we did.” He slid his hands farther around her and stroked up and down her back.

  The soothing glide of his touch lured her into slipping her arms into his jacket and wrapping them around his waist. His shirt had gotten wet during the short time E.J. had had his jacket but he was still toasty warm.

  As they breathed in sync, awareness built of how her breasts were pillowed against his chest. She could feel the tautness of his stomach, and her hips where aligned with his.