“It’ll be fine.” She reached up to kiss his cheek.
“As long as you’re with me, it’ll be fine.”
He stepped down from the car and held out a hand to her. Behind him, a hubbub broke out, and he turned to see a massive crowd. Nate and Rand held up a banner which read, “Welcome home, Tolley and Laurie.” Surrounding them, what appeared to be the entire Northam and Eberly clans cheered.
In a daze, he drew Laurie into the crowd. He kissed Mother first, of course. Shook hands with his brothers and brothers-in-law. Kissed his sister and five sisters-in-law on the cheek. Three of them had new babes in their arms. He embraced his other nieces and nephews. Shook hands with George Eberly, who slapped him on the back like a long-lost friend. Then he came to the Colonel, who still required a wheelchair, but whose face had fleshed out and whose eyes had brightened with their former intelligence over these past two months. Tolley hesitated. Should he reach out to shake his hand? Before he had to decide, the old man reached out to him. Grasping Tolley’s hand, he pulled him down into an awkward embrace.
“Welcome home, son, daughter.” He looked beyond Tolley and winked at Laurie, whose eyes were suspiciously moist. “Bartholomew, I have a legal matter I need you to tend.”
And that was when Tolley knew he truly had come home.
* * * * *
If you liked this story, pick up these other
FOUR STONES RANCH books
by Louise M. Gouge:
COWBOY TO THE RESCUE
COWBOY SEEKS A BRIDE
COWGIRL FOR KEEPS
COWGIRL UNDER THE MISTLETOE
Available now from Love Inspired!
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Keep reading for an excerpt from UNDERCOVER SHERIFF by Barbara Phinney.
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing Cowboy Homecoming, the fifth book in my Four Stones Ranch series. I hope you enjoyed the adventures of my hero, Tolley Northam, and my heroine, Laurie Eberly. If you read Cowgirl for Keeps (Love Inspired Historical, July 2015), you already know why Tolley struggles to find himself and earn his formidable father’s approval. And now at last, two offspring of the central families of my series have fallen in love and found their very own HEA.
My series setting is the beautiful San Luis Valley of Colorado, where I lived for many years. In case you’re wondering, I don’t have definite proof that any 1885 Valley settlers installed indoor plumbing in their homes. I do have lifelong Valley resident Emma M. Riggenbach’s history, A Bridge to Yesterday (High Valley Press 1982), in which she writes about Monte Vista, Colorado, the inspiration for my series, and some of the uses of the natural artesian water in the area.
If you enjoyed Tolley and Laurie’s story, be on the lookout for more stories set in my fictional town of Esperanza. Can you guess who my next hero or heroine will be? Who would you like to see have his or her own happily-ever-after?
I love to hear from my readers. If you have a comment, contact me at:
blog.Louisemgouge.com. (You can also sign up for my occasional newsletter there.)
www.Facebook.com/AuthorLouiseMGouge/
Twitter: @Louisemgouge
Blessings,
Louise M. Gouge
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Undercover Sheriff
by Barbara Phinney
Chapter One
Colorado, 1882
When Zane Robinson stepped into his brother’s rented room, he found a woman rifling through the desk.
He fully expected her to look up, for surely she’d heard him. Zane hadn’t exactly tiptoed along the narrow path that led from Mrs. Shrankhof’s kitchen to this back addition, determined to locate his missing twin. However, the well-dressed lady in front of him appeared oblivious as she yanked on the desk drawers, pulling out what looked to be a postcard, which she latched on to with the vigor of a miner striking gold.
She then let out a harsh gasp, a look of guilty horror filling her face. For the briefest moment, Zane wondered if she was about to collapse. Thankfully, she did not. Instead, her expression hardening into tenacity, she had the gall to fold the postcard and shove it into an unseen pocket of her closely tailored skirt.
Enough was enough. Zane prepared to charge into the room, settling his Stetson—which he’d removed when he’d come inside—back on his head so both his hands would be free. He felt a twinge as he remembered that the hat was the one his brother had sent him shortly after arriving in Proud Bend.
Alex had written him jokingly that they now had matching hats, and that all they needed were identical clothes and their youth would be repeated. Back then, neither of them had minded wearing the same clothing. Such was the way one dressed identical twins.
That one memory, a shameful one for Zane, lingered.
Never mind it. Alex had long since forgiven him for that foolish ruse.
Back to the issue at hand. That woman was stealing from his brother. Zane cleared his throat. “Who are you?”
With a jump, the woman whirled. Upon seeing Zane, she sagged with obvious relief and smiled broadly. “Alex! You scared me!”
Zane quirked an eyebrow. She thought he was his brother? Of its own accord, his hand lifted to his full beard. Had Alex grown one, as well? His brother usually preferred to be clean-shaven. Yet, this woman saw past the thick facial hair when no one else had so far. Walking through town—albeit with his hat on and his collar turned up against the wind—no one had even noticed that his face was identical to that of their sheriff.
Zane’s chest tightened. Alex, his only surviving kin, was missing, gone now a week. Perhaps injured somewhere, or dead. Zane needed to find the deputy who’d wired him to ask if Zane knew where his brother was.
He didn’t. Shortly after reading the telegram, Zane had boarded the next train from Canaan, Illinois, to Denver, Colorado, then down the other line to Proud Bend. He desperately needed to see what had been done so far to find Alex. But this woman in front of him needed to answer a few questions first.
She stepped forward, her broad smile still lighting her features. “You’re safe! Praise the Lord! Where have you been? I took a card I just—”
Her smile fell like a stone and was replaced by a frown. She cut off her sentence and withdrew that one step she’d taken. “You’re not Alex,” she accused. Her delicate
brows pressed together as she searched his face. “Who are you?”
Zane had no time for this. “Considering that you’re stealing from my brother, the more obvious question would be ‘who are you?’”
The woman gaped. “You even sound like Alex! Are you his twin?” She tilted her head, assessing him. “What am I saying? Of course you are. Apart from the beard, you’re identical.” She touched her chest again as she peered hard. “I don’t think I’ve ever met identical twins before. It’s amazing!”
Zane’s attention dropped to her hand. Her fingers were rough and callused, nails cut short and utilitarian, a curious contradiction to the rest of this regal woman, whose fine, expensive-looking outfit was perfectly tailored to her tall, slender frame. Her black hair—what he could see of it beneath her bonnet—was arranged in a neat, fashionable knot.
Who was she? Alex hadn’t mentioned this woman, or any woman for that matter. “My brother told you he has a twin?” Very curious, indeed. “How did that come up in conversation?”
“It didn’t. It’s the only logical answer. You just said you’re his brother.”
Of course. Zane rubbed his brow. He was tired. That was the only reason for the foolish question. The woman was frowning again. Studying him closely.
Wariness tingled through Zane. She was smart. Was she also calculating? It certainly looked that way. He had better watch himself—he’d learned the hard way the dangers of other people’s craftiness. He was here to find Alex, not deal with yet another corrupt town.
“I can see that you’re perfectly capable of answering questions,” he ground out. “So, shall we return to my first one? Who are you?”
She wet her lips in what Zane might call a nervous action. As she should be, he thought without the charity he’d been taught as a child. Charity should be saved for those who don’t steal.
Or betray their sheriff, as had happened back in Canaan.
Surprisingly, the woman’s words were calm despite, he was sure, not wanting to give him a single shred of information. “My name is Rachel Smith.”
“Good, Miss Smith. Very good.” Zane took a deliberate step closer to her, hoping to appear intimidating. Although she was taller than any woman he’d ever met, Miss Smith didn’t compare with his big frame. Yet she stood her ground.
It didn’t matter. She’d been caught stealing. He thrust out his hand, palm skyward. “Now give me what you just slipped into your pocket. Before I take it from you.”
* * *
Rachel swallowed. Through her skirt, she fingered the postcard. She did not want to relinquish the only clue she had, although she had no idea why her name was scrawled on the postcard or how it had come into the possession of Proud Bend’s new sheriff. And she certainly did not wish to hand it over to this stranger.
The postcard could be the last thing Alex had handled before he went missing. If she could learn where he’d obtained it, it could help her retrace the steps he’d taken during the investigation she’d asked him to make into Rosa’s disappearance. It could lead her to both Rosa and the woman’s young son, Daniel, not to mention Alex, for surely his disappearance had to be related to theirs.
Please, Lord, keep them all safe. Rosa loves You now, I’m sure of it. If someone has kidnapped her to force her to return to that awful trade, change their hearts, Lord. Have all three of them released.
“The contents of your pocket?” the man prompted her, his hand thrust out even farther. Rachel suppressed a shiver.
Don’t be intimidated by this man.
He was clearly suspicious of her presence in his brother’s room, and if he saw the postcard with her name on it, his suspicions would only increase. She arched her brows and locked her hands primly against her skirt, one palm ensuring the card remained tucked away. “So, since you are his twin, what is your name?”
“Alex didn’t tell you? You two seem so close.” He paused, his brows lifted and his head tilted slightly to the left as if expecting a prompt answer. When she refused to rise to his provocation, he continued, “My name is Zane Robinson.”
Rachel ignored his cold tone. His brother was missing, so he was bound to be in a foul mood. Still, she frowned. “Alex said his full name was Alexander Zane Robinson.”
“That’s correct. I am Zane Alexander Robinson. Our mother thought it would be whimsical to switch our names.”
“Interesting.” She nodded, all the while hoping to appear unruffled. She was anything but that. In fact, she felt more ruffled by the second. “Why are you here?” she asked, hoping to move the conversation away from the postcard.
Zane did not move. His hand remained extended, waiting for her to relinquish the postcard still tucked safely in her pocket. Obviously, he did not wish to divert the subject. “Why did you just steal that card?”
When she offered no explanation, he continued, “I want it. If you do not hand it over immediately, I will simply take it from you. By force.”
Rachel swallowed. Regardless of her innocent motives, she had stolen something from Alex’s desk, and this man, his identical twin, had more right to it than she did.
Lord, Your spirit is pricking my conscience. Have it work for Your good.
Reluctantly, Rachel dug out the postcard. All she could hope for was that Zane would find it useful in tracking down Alex. “All I wanted to do was study it when I had the time, because I don’t have it now. I would have returned it.” She would have, she told herself fiercely, but the look of doubt on Zane’s face proved he didn’t believe her.
“And the reason for not giving it to his deputy to aid in his investigation? Unless, of course, you are responsible for Alex’s disappearance.”
“I’m not!” She threw back her shoulders. “I have no reason to wish any harm to Alex! I am, in fact, the one who is working the hardest to find him—and I’m just as capable as the deputy is at following a lead. Perhaps better than him. Otherwise, he would have already found this card himself. He has just admitted to me this very morning that he hasn’t yet searched this room because Alex was at the sheriff’s office, and before that, at the saloon, and had not been here for several hours before he was last seen. The deputy didn’t think searching here would help, whereas I do. That’s why I’m here. I’m retracing his last day starting in the morning.”
“Really?” Zane’s extended hand did not waver, for she had not yet returned the card. “Leads can take a person to places where ladies such as you should never go.”
A snicker escaped her lips before she could stop it. “You, sir, have no idea where I have gone. Regardless, this postcard could hold clues to your brother’s location. That’s the only reason I took it.”
Oh, who are you kidding here? You’re also afraid you’ll be implicated in his disappearance.
Ignoring the sudden internal accusation, Rachel opened the folded card slowly. It was a picture postcard of Castle Rock, the town just a few miles southeast on the same railway line that led up to Denver. The imposing butte jutted up in the picture’s background, an ugly formation Rachel knew was normally covered with mining paraphernalia, but in this romantically painted landscape, the artist had removed all that trash. She hastily committed the image to memory before turning it over. Beneath the standard postcard printing was her name, written at an upward angle. She didn’t recognize the handwriting, but knew that few people in Proud Bend—assuming the writer lived here and not in Castle Rock—could manage such smooth, readable cursive.
Zane tugged the card from her grip, obviously impatient with her delay. After studying it himself, he glanced up at her. “It has your name on it, Miss Smith.”
Rachel swallowed. “Yes. I can read.”
“It’s in my brother’s handwriting.”
She lifted her brows, all the while trying her best to stay reserved. She was anything but that. What Zane had just said answered on
e of her questions but added others. Why had Alex written her name on a postcard from the next town? Where did he get this card? Had he traveled to Castle Rock in the course of his investigation into Rosa’s disappearance? If so, why take a postcard and waste it by writing only her name on it?
Worry bit into Rachel. Lord, You know where they are. Lead us to them. Rosa wanted to give her life to the Lord, she’d told Rachel hesitantly, and the next day she had promised Rachel she would help her in her ministry to the misguided women who had fallen into a life of prostitution in Proud Bend. That had been over a month ago, for today was the seventh of December. Rosa had gone missing ten days ago. Rachel had gone straight to Alex the day after she’d disappeared. Two days after that, Alex had vanished, as well. So far, she’d found no clues to his whereabouts—except for this card. It might have nothing to do with Rosa, but if it wasn’t important, why keep it? It had been the only thing in a drawer that by now should have been littered with various small items.
“How did you get in here?” Interrupting her thoughts, Zane glanced around the room. “Did my brother give you his key?”
Rachel flushed. “Mrs. Shrankhof unlocked the room for me. Since I’m not privy to Alex’s official files on Rosa and Daniel—”
“Rosa? Daniel?” Zane looked baffled as he cut her off. “Who are they?”
“Rosa Carrera is a friend.” Rachel clipped her words, not wanting to mention the woman’s former profession. “Daniel is her young son, a toddler. They disappeared a few days before Alex did. I reported it.”
“Perhaps they moved away?”
Rachel shook her head. “She’d spent the weeks before her disappearance helping me with my ministry, and she was committed to the cause. She wouldn’t have just left. Besides, none of their things are missing—nor did she say goodbye to anyone.”
Cowboy Homecoming Page 24
