“What does the letter say? Is she all right?”
He glanced back to the paper in his hand. “I’m not sure. Where’s Jacob?” He pushed past her. They had to make a plan. He’d go after Grace, sure as shootin’, but they needed to be smart about this.
~ ~ ~
“SO YOU DON’T have any idea who might be after her?”
Monty paced the small open floor in Jacob’s office. Jacob sounded frustrated, but it didn’t come to half a hair compared to the passion boiling in his own chest. “I don’t know. She talked about her pa’s ranch. Her ma died several years back, then her pa about six months ago, if I recall right. She mentioned a foreman who was like part of the family, but said he passed a while back, too. She talked about the rest of the cowpunchers like they were all kinfolk. Never had an ill word to say about any of them.”
“So she didn’t say why she left California?” Jacob watched him from his stance by the window.
Monty closed his eyes and inhaled a long breath, forcing his mind to remember every conversation. There had been more than he’d realized through the months. Most of them just snippets as they rode out to the herd or back, but each one mattered.
“All she said was there was nothing holding her there.” His brow wrinkled. “She said she left California five months ago. When I asked why it took so long to get to Texas, she just said she’d been seeing the countryside. I thought that was strange, but I didn’t push her.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shoulda followed my gut.”
A knock sounded on the door, and they both turned as Juan poked his head in. “Sí, the señorita’s horse is gone and all her things from the barn. Is hard to tell, but I think I see fresh tracks going north and to the east.”
“Gracias.” Monty spun back to Jacob even before Juan shut the door. “I’m going after her Jacob. I’ll be back when I find her.” Hopefully, that wouldn’t be long. No telling what time she’d left, but travel would have been slow at night.
Jacob stepped forward and rested a hand on Monty’s shoulder. The strength of his friend’s grip was unmistakable, and he met Monty’s gaze head-on. “You want company?”
Monty took a moment to think through his answer. It would be good to have back-up in case they ran into trouble, but as he eyed Jacob, the reality of the possible danger glared back at him. He had no idea what he’d be walking into. He couldn’t put Jacob through that. Couldn’t endanger his best friend’s family.
“No. I’ll bring her back here, then we’ll decide the next move.”
Jacob pierced him with those intense blue eyes. “Be careful then. We’ll be praying for you both.”
Monty nodded, accepting the charge along with the prayers. Something told him he was going to need them.
Chapter Sixteen
SHE WAS COMPLETELY VULNERABLE.
Monty gazed through an opening in the branches as Grace slept in a little clearing in the woods. She’d traveled farther that day than he’d expected, and must have collapsed here around dusk thinking she was safe in such a remote place. If she thought that rifle beside her would be enough protection, she was sadly mistaken. He could easily snatch it before she pried open an eyelid. At least she’d had the good sense not to build a fire.
He couldn’t help but watch her sleep, though. In the soft evening light, her face almost shone with its beauty. Those strong cheekbones and even stronger chin. With her eyes closed, her long lashes lay peacefully against her cheeks. So delicate. His fingers itched to touch her again. To stroke the softness of her skin. Kiss her eyelids. Her lips.
For a few more moments, he allowed himself the luxury of just watching. Someday, she would be his. As soon as they made it through this bit of trouble, he’d not waste any more time.
Tensing his muscles, Monty scanned the surroundings one more time. There’d been no sign of another set of tracks as he followed her, but someone watching might have traveled off to the side. He’d have to stay on his toes.
Stepping into the clearing, he padded on the balls of his feet to make as little noise as possible against the rotting leaf floor of the woods. He crept closer to Grace, then crouched beside her and pulled the rifle from her reach. No sense in her shooting him if she startled awake.
Her breathing kept a steady rhythm, ruffling a tendril of escaped hair draped across her chin. So peaceful. So vulnerable. Something in his chest squeezed tight. He reached out to brush her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
Like a snake strike, her hand closed around his wrist, clamping tight enough to catch him off guard. Her eyes popped open—even wider when recognition flashed in them. She released his hand and clambered up to a sitting position, scooting back a bit in the process.
“Monty. What are you doing here?” Her whisper echoed through the dark woods.
“Coming after you.” He matched her volume, his voice as low a rumble as he could make it.
She twisted both directions to scan the trees, then focused on him again. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet. But you’re gonna tell me what’s going on, then we’re going back to the ranch to work it out together.”
Even with the scant bit of moonlight that made it through the trees, he could see her eyes widen and her head shake vigorously. “I can’t, Monty. I can’t do that to you.” She scooted backwards again, and tucked her legs underneath her like she was going to jump up and run.
“Grace.” He touched her arm, and she stilled. “You have to tell me what’s going on.”
She was quiet for long moments, and she’d backed into the shadows so he couldn’t make out her expression. Her arm muscles were tense under his hand.
“Please, Grace. I need you to trust me.” He needed that more than his next meal.
“It’s my step-brother.” The words came out so quiet, they were almost smothered in the night. “He’s come after something of mine that he wants.”
Monty shifted from his crouch into a seated position, settling in for the full story. Because they weren’t leaving here until he knew all of it. “If it’s yours, why does he think you’ll give it to him?”
“He knows I won’t, but he’ll try to take it by force. It’s very…valuable. And he’s the kind of man who doesn’t let anything get between him and what he really wants. I think he’s killed before but I can’t prove it.” Her voice quivered with passion as she spoke. “I couldn’t stay and risk something happening to you or the others on the ranch so… It’s better if I move on.”
He forced himself to stay calm. “Mind if I ask what’s so valuable he’d take a life over it?”
“I can’t tell you, Monty. It’s better if you don’t know.”
Inhaling a deep breath, he examined the picture forming in his mind. “Something happened to make you think he’s found you?”
A motion in the darkness must’ve been the nod of her head. “I saw him through the window at the saddlery. I don’t know how he traced me to Seguin. I’ve been wandering around for months to cover my trail. But he has plenty of money and lots of connections in the west.”
“Grace, I need to know what exactly he’s after. I need to understand why he’d be willing to kill over a possession that doesn’t even belong to him.”
“It was my inheritance from my father. Papa left the ranch and most everything else to his new wife and Leonard, but what he left me is worth far more. That’s why Leonard wants it. He’s a greedy, manipulative…” She let the sentence die off, but the bitterness in her tone said more than enough.
“You said you think he’s killed before. Do you mean…your father?”
“Yes.” The whisper barely carried to him.
“Oh, Grace.”
And then she was there. In his arms, a sob wracking her tiny body. He closed her in, stroking her back and inhaling her scent, the depth of her pain splintering his own heart.
Emotions warred within him—the ache of sadness mixing with a growing fury toward the man who would strip this woman of everything she l
oved. Her father, her home, her very safety. Leaving her with no alternative but to live like a criminal, hiding and skulking from one remote setting to another.
Well, no more.
Together, they would stand up to the man. And she wasn’t leaving the Double Rocking B again until she very well pleased. Never—if he had anything to do with it.
At last, the sobs turned to sniffles and she tried to pull back.
He didn’t let her go far, though. Just enough so the moonlight touched her face. He thumbed her cheek. “Listen to me, Grace Harper—”
“Hampstead.”
He blinked. “Come again?”
“My family name is Hampstead. Since I’m telling you everything.”
Of course it was. The faintest glimmer of a smile touched one side of her mouth. He fought the urge to swoop in and kiss it.
“All right. Grace Hampstead. We’re going back to the ranch, and together, we’ll take care of that slab-sided blighter. We have plenty of men there handy with a rifle, and they won’t let him within fifty yards of you.” For emphasis, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on those lips.
They parted just a bit in surprise, but he resisted the urge to deepen the kiss. Here in this remote forest in the dark… His willpower was strong, but even he had his limits. Besides, now might not be quite the time, what with the bit of worry about her life being in danger.
Pulling back, he studied her face again, wishing he could see more than shadows in her eyes. “I love you, Grace. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“Oh, Monty.”
Her hand came up to his cheek, and he suddenly wished he’d taken the time to shave that morning. Turning into her touch, he kissed the soft inside of her palm.
“Do we have to go back? Maybe we could just stay here.” The smile came through her words in a blissful sigh.
Take the deuce but she was making this hard for him. With a groan, he pushed her hand away. “Don’t tempt me.”
Glancing around the space, he struggled to focus on what had to be done. “I’ll saddle your horse while you pack up.”
“There’s nothing to pack...” Her words faded into a yawn, stilling Monty before he started to rise.
“You need to sleep a bit before we go anywhere. I’ll sit and watch for a few hours while you catch a nap.”
“I’ll be all right.” But her argument was swallowed in another yawn.
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams. I’ll be right here.”
~ ~ ~
LEONARD STUDIED THE ranch buildings through his spy glass, the same thing he’d done for two days now. The grounds had fallen silent in the afternoon sunlight, just like yesterday.
The old Mexican disappeared into the bunkhouse—for his siesta, no doubt. The nap had lasted over two hours the day before. If he’d counted the men correctly, the rest were out in the fields while only women occupied the house.
No sign of Grace, but this was definitely the ranch the driver had described. If she was hiding inside, he’d find her. Otherwise, he’d get her whereabouts from these yokels.
The fellow who’d hung around the place yesterday had ridden out with the cow hands that morning. That left only the boy in the barn and the two women in the house. Perfect.
He twisted the spy glass shut, then tucked it into his saddle pack and mounted his horse. The gelding surged forward before Leonard settled in the saddle, and he snatched the reins to still the animal. He’d made this horse into a decent riding steed on the trip from California, but after standing around these two days, it seemed the beast had lost his manners.
Moving into the lane, Leonard schooled his profile into a relaxed pose. As he rode into the ranch yard and dismounted, the boy jogged from the barn.
“Can I take your horse, sir?”
Leonard scanned the house and buildings as if he’d never seen them before, then focused a smile on the lad. “I’ll lead him into the barn for you. He can be a bit finicky about who handles him.”
“Yes’r.”
He kept his posture relaxed, but scanned the area one more time. Still no movement around any of the buildings. Perfect. The solid form of his Colt pressed into his side, ready for the next step in the plan.
The interior of the barn was so dim, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
“We’ll stick him in here.” The boy stopped at one of the first stalls. “You want him unsaddled?”
Leonard stepped close behind him. With a practiced motion, he pulled his revolver from his waistband and slammed it into the back of the boy’s head.
The lad crumbled like the backbone had been pulled out of him. Good.
After settling the gelding in the stall, Leonard made short work of tying the boy to a wagon wheel in the back corner. He gagged him, too. Just in case.
Now onto the house.
The yard was still quiet as he crossed it, mounted the porch steps, and rapped on the door. A woman in a green dress answered—the younger one he’d seen coming and going the most while he’d watched the house.
“Hello.” She eyed him warily.
He removed his hat. “Hello, ma’am. Is the man of the house around? I’ve some business I’m hoping he can help me with.”
Her brown eyes narrowed. “Can you come back this evening? He’ll be better able to talk then.”
He raised a brow. In this god-forsaken country? What did she expect him to do, ride the two hours back to town and wait in the café? “Perhaps you could help me instead.” He motioned into the house. “Would you mind if we sit to discuss the matter?”
She glanced over her shoulder, licked her lips, and turned back to him. “I…suppose.”
As he followed her into the hallway and through a side door to a sitting room, he eyed her tense movements. Was she nervous by nature? Or had Grace alerted these people to possible trouble?
He’d be on his toes, but after studying the workings of this place for two days, he was pretty sure he had the upper hand. That was probably what made her so jumpy. She knew she was unprotected.
She motioned him toward a settee. “Please be seated. I’ll have coffee brought in.”
“No need. If you’ll join me, I’ll explain my business.”
She perched on the edge of the seat across from him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Yes?”
“Well, ma’am. I’ve been on the road for several weeks now, looking for my sister. She was kidnapped from our ranch in California and I have reason to believe she was taken as far as central Texas.” He pulled the sketch from his pocket—the drawing he’d used on the wanted poster. “Here’s a likeness of her. Perhaps she looks familiar?” He studied the woman as she took the paper.
“You say she was kidnapped?” Something about her tone, the patronizing arch of her brows, told him without a doubt she knew Grace. And she’d likely been warned he’d be coming. No telling what slandering hogwash Grace’d sold these people about him.
“Yes, ma’am. Have you seen her?”
Since she’d already been prejudiced against him, there was no need for him to go into his prepared speech. Either she would tell what she knew or he would find it for himself.
She looked up from the sketch and looked him square in the eyes. “I have no idea of this woman’s whereabouts.”
He forced a crestfallen look. “Has she been here at all?”
“You’d best look elsewhere.”
Enough talking in circles. He rose to his feet, and she did the same. Turning his body to hide his movement, he slipped his hand into his waistband and withdrew the Colt.
The look in her eyes as he turned the business end toward her was priceless. Just like a startled deer. “Madam. You will tell me where Grace Hampstead is, or I’ll not hesitate to enforce the alternative.”
Eyes as wide as plates, she shook her head decisively. But the fear was there. She’d break soon enough.
“Is she here now?”
Another violent shake of
the head.
“Where did she stay when she was here before?”
The woman’s jaw clamped shut.
With the reflexes he’d honed through years at the poker table, he landed a left hook squarely on the side of her stubborn jaw.
She let out a cry and jerked back, pressing a hand to the spot where he’d connected.
He re-leveled the gun on her. “I asked a question, madam.”
Her glare was cold, but he’d seen a great deal worse.
“Where’s the old lady then? Perhaps she’ll be more likely to tell.”
“Grace stayed upstairs, but she’s long gone. You won’t find anything.” That glare again. Did she think it would make a difference?
“Thank you.” He nodded and stepped back to allow her to pass, keeping the Colt’s barrel pointed at her. “If you’d be so kind as to proceed toward the kitchen.”
If he didn’t miss his guess, that’s where they’d find the old lady, too. Either there or napping upstairs. Either way, he’d get them both out of the way and find what he’d come for.
Chapter Seventeen
AS LEONARD PUSHED the woman through the kitchen doorway, the grey-haired female was just where he’d expected—standing over the sink slicing something. She put up a little fuss, but he soon had them both tied and secured to the legs of the cold stove. He gagged the older woman first, then waved the pistol toward the younger. “Which room did you say Grace occupied? It’ll save me from searching them all.”
“Turn right at the top of the stairs. Second door on the left.” The words were almost undiscernible through her gritted teeth.
He tied the rag in her mouth, then stepped back to eye his work. Everything in place so far. Now it was time to find what he’d come for.
The room the woman described was neat as a pin. Nothing in the drawers, in the bedding, not anywhere. No sign Grace had been there at all. After slashing through the mattress to make sure she hadn’t concealed a hint there, he scanned the room one more time. His search had been thorough—everything he did was thorough—but still turned up nothing.
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