Love Finds You in Last Chance, California

by Miralee Ferrell

  Alex walked the length of the meadow away from the spring, passing behind the blacksmith shop and the corral housing the horses. Several mounts plunged away from the fence when she drew near then settled back to picking at scattered bits of hay. She drew her skirts up higher, no longer afraid of being seen this far from town.

  The thought of her father tugged her up the hill to the cemetery. He’d chosen to be buried on his beloved ranch rather than here on the edge of town, but the peace and tranquility of the place drew her just the same.

  She walked through the lightly forested glade, running her fingers along the tops of the white marble headstones marking the dozen or so graves. The town had been established only twenty-five years before and, thankfully, not many had died and been buried here in that time.

  She sat down beneath a tree, careful not to disturb the nearest grave. So much had happened since her father’s death, and she still had so many unanswered questions. Not just about the recent trouble at the ranch, but about Justin and Carter and even Christy Grey.

  A gray squirrel scampered up a tree, drawing her attention from the nearby headstone to the swaying branches above. He chattered his displeasure while racing back and forth on a low-hanging limb.

  Alex leaned her head against a tree. “Hey, little fellow. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  His antics continued and the volume increased. A nearby crow added to the cacophony with his deep-throated squawk, and a neighboring jay joined in the chorus.

  “Quiet, please!” Alex laughed and picked up a foot-long sugar pine cone, lofting it into the tree. The heavy cone landed against the trunk with a thud and fell back to earth. The squirrel ceased his chatter but the birds continued their cry. She started to rise, determined to find a quieter place, when a rock zipped through the air and struck the tree inches from the crow. The bird spread his black wings and swooped down the hill, retreating into the distance.

  Alex looked around and her eyebrows rose. Justin stood a few yards away, a smile lighting his face. “Mind if I join you?” He nodded toward the spot beneath the tree beside her. “Or would you prefer to be alone?”

  She couldn’t stifle a grin. “After rescuing me from that racket with your wonderful display of marksmanship? Please.” She patted the ground.

  He dipped his head and moved forward then settled down a couple of yards away. “Is your father here?” He looked around at the nearest headstone before his gaze traveled across the small glade.

  “No. He always said he’d want to rest at the ranch. I came here after church to think.”

  Justin nodded. He picked up a fallen twig and snapped it between his fingers. “I needed a few things at the store.”

  “You don’t attend church?”

  He shrugged. “Guess I got out of the habit a few years ago.”

  “Have you thought about starting again, now that you have Toby?”

  “I hadn’t, but it’s a good point. He might enjoy it, and I do want him trained to know right from wrong.”

  “I agree. I think a parent’s guidance, combined with the help of a good church, does a lot for a child. Did you bring Toby to town?”

  He shook his head. “No, Martha offered to keep him. Joe’s giving him a ride on the pony this afternoon.” He glanced up and met her eyes. “The boy sure loves that pony. I’m grateful you allow us to use her.”

  She shrugged and dropped her gaze. “She was getting fat. Besides, Toby’s a sweet boy and I love watching him learn.”

  Silence settled over the glade. Alex plucked at the grass growing next to the tree trunk. What brought Justin up to the cemetery, and why had he sought her out? She couldn’t deny the pull of attraction she felt when he was near, but there’d been no indication that he experienced the same.

  Justin stuck a long blade of grass between his teeth and leaned against the rough bark of a tree. His soft voice broke the stillness. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

  “Papa? Yes. More than you know.”

  He winced, and she bit her lip. How stupid of her to forget. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

  Justin shook his head and glanced at her. “No, it’s all right. I was actually thinking more about my pa than Molly.”

  She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap. “You and your pa were close?”

  “Very. He and Ma raised me on a small ranch—he taught me everything I know. Not just about ranching, but about life.” He emitted a harsh laugh. “Seems I’ve forgotten or walked away from much of what I learned. He’d not be proud of some of my decisions.”

  Justin swung a leg under him and pushed to one knee. “That headstone.” He pointed to a large white stone a few feet away. “That who I think it is? It says E. Allen Grosh. Would that be the man who first discovered the Comstock Lode but didn’t live to claim it?”

  She shook herself, trying to keep up with the swift change of topic. “Yes. Ethan Allen Grosh. He died here in Last Chance.”

  “How’d he get so far from his gold claim?”

  “Papa told me the story—he heard it from folks who knew Mr. Grosh. It seems he was on his way to San Francisco in hopes of raising money to fund his mining operation. His brother had died a few weeks before, and Grosh got a late start leaving the mountains. He and his partner, Buck, got caught in a bad snowstorm and were lost for days.”

  Justin looked at the tombstone with interest. “They found their way here, then?”

  She shook her head. “No. They wandered for days without food, after having to eat their donkey. Frostbite set in and they’d given up, lain down, and figured they’d die. Some miners found them and built a sled of sorts then dragged them into town. They had to cut off Buck’s leg and part of one foot, but they couldn’t save Grosh.”

  “What happened to the silver he found?”

  She raised her eyes to the faraway hills. “Buck said Grosh stashed the ore samples and the map to the claim in a leather pouch at the stump of a fallen tree and marked it with a cross, but no one ever found it. Papa heard that Grosh left a man named Comstock to watch over his cabin. Two years later Comstock found a large vein of silver not far up the hill from Grosh’s cabin and struck it rich.”

  “Huh. Poor Grosh.”

  “Papa said some men aren’t meant to have treasure; it ruins their lives and poisons them against God. But it’s sad that Grosh died and never had a chance.” She leaned back and wrapped her arms around her knees. A longing to blurt out the secret of her father’s find before his death caused her to open her mouth, but she snapped it shut again. Martha and Parson Moser had counseled her to pray and trust God, but what about trusting Justin? Maybe that should be a matter of prayer, as well.

  “It is, at that.” Justin rose to his feet and brushed his hat against his legs, removing the pine needles and bits of dirt. “I’d best be getting back. I hate taking advantage of Martha’s kindness.”

  Alex put a hand against the tree and started to rise. “Martha’s in her element. She loves caring for Toby—it brightens her day and livens up the house.”

  Justin extended his hand and Alex grasped it. A tingle started in her fingers, shot up her arm, and warmed her chest. She wanted to drop his hand and run, but Justin didn’t loosen his hold for several seconds. He looked down into her eyes. “Alex…”

  She met his gaze. “Yes?”

  He released her hand and took a step back, clearing his throat. “I’d best go. Thanks for letting me sit with you a spell.” He swung away and covered the distance to the bottom of the hill in a few long strides.

  Alex stood with her hands clasped. Was she the only one who’d felt something when their hands met? What had he almost said?

  She needed to talk to someone about Justin Phillips, and she knew just the person.

  A peek through the window showed the figure of Carl Ramsey moving about, so Alex pushed open the door. “Sheriff? Mind if I come in?”

  Ramsey finished placing a long-barreled rifle up on the rack next to the door then tu
rned a smiling face her way. “Alex. It’s good to see you. Come in, come in.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just gettin’ back from church, are you?” He waved to the chair in front of his desk and took his own.

  “Yes, but I took a walk up to the cemetery afterward.”

  “Ah. It’s a nice place to visit when you need to think. Peaceful.” He cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow. “Missin’ your pa a powerful lot, I reckon?”

  Sudden tears sprang to Alex’s eyes but she batted them away. As much as she missed her father, she hadn’t come to discuss him. “Yes. But I hoped to ask you some questions.”

  He leaned back and folded his arms. “Sure. Go right ahead.”

  “You remember the man Ralph tackled at the church? He had a wagon and a little boy.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure do. Justin Phillips.”

  “You’ve seen him since then?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I have.”

  Alex rested her hat on her lap. “I hired him. Now I’m wondering if I made the right decision.”

  “You havin’ a problem with him?”

  “No, it’s not that. I’m just wondering—Ralph thought he resembled a man on a Wanted poster, and I wondered—

  “—if Phillips might be that man or might be on another poster?” Ramsey stretched his legs out to the side of his desk.

  She met his direct gaze. “Yes.”

  “You got a reason to be worryin’ about him, do you?”

  She shook her head. “I’d like to think I don’t. When I first met him, I didn’t question his story. And of course, his having a child and all…” She shrugged.

  “Now you think he might be a thief—or worse?”

  “Well, not really. But after some of the things that’ve happened lately, I’m not sure what to think. He’s a wonderful father, and he’s been a big help at the ranch, so I feel guilty even asking. But now that I’m in charge, I need to make certain I’ve not hired someone who’s running from the law.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Somethin’ happenin’ I need to be aware of, Alex?”

  “Some horses disappeared the day Justin arrived on the ranch. We never recovered them. A few days later a fence was cut. Carter Foster had some of his men drive my horses back on my land and fix the fence.”

  “Ah-huh. Well, some of your land isn’t fenced at all. I s’pose that first group could’a wandered off from the main herd and disappeared in the mountains for a spell, but it don’t sound good.”

  “If it weren’t for Ralph’s accusation about the Wanted poster, the rest might not have bothered me. Justin showing up the day my horses disappeared worried me a little, but I’ve not had any complaints since hiring him.”

  “I’ll tell you this much. Justin spoke to me and gave me the same details about the horses. To my knowledge he’s not wanted anywhere.” Alex started to interrupt, but he held up his hand. “It’s good that you’re bein’ cautious. I’m not worried about Phillips being a horse thief, but it pays to go slow sometimes. How ’bout I look into his background and get back to you?”

  She fingered the brim of her hat then placed it on her head and rose. “Thank you. That’s more than I’d hoped for. I’ll take him at face value until I hear different from you.”

  Sheriff Ramsey stood and escorted her to the door. “Glad to help. Come by any time. And Alex?”

  She turned and looked up into his serious eyes.

  He stood with his hand braced against the open door frame. “You be careful. I don’t think this is a case of someone playin’ a prank. Listen to Joe and keep your eyes open. I’ll do the same.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The sound of hoofbeats an hour before supper drew Alex out to the porch. She groaned. Carter. She’d pushed his request to come calling to the back of her mind. She knew she had no choice—she’d have to ask him to supper. Spinning on her heel, Alex hurried to the kitchen. “Martha? Can you set one more plate?”

  Martha shut the door to the wood cookstove and raised a flushed face. “You know I always fix plenty. Who’s coming?”

  “Carter Foster is riding up the lane.”

  “What’s that man want now?” She planted her hands on her hips and huffed.

  Alex sighed and leaned against the cream-colored pantry standing near the washbasin. “I saw him in town awhile back, and he asked if he could call.”

  Martha’s eyebrows shot high on her forehead. “Well, I declare. I was right. He’s wantin’ to court you.”

  Alex rolled her eyes and smiled. “Don’t get all fired up, Martha. I’ll turn him down if he wants to come again.”

  Martha cocked her head. “Joe’s gone for the evening, so you may want to make sure Justin and Toby sit down to the table. The boy likes to take his meals outside with his papa sometimes. Might do you well not to be alone with Carter or to let him stay long after supper.”

  “Carter’s a gentleman, and I’m not worried about appearances. But I guess you’re right—it might be better to have more people here. I don’t want to encourage him by spending time alone.” Alex gave Martha a quick hug and headed for the door. “I’d best see what’s holding him up. I thought he’d be at the door by now.”

  Justin swung around at the clatter of hoofbeats approaching the open barn door. Joe had ridden out to check on Frank and the mares around mid-afternoon and didn’t plan on arriving home until sundown. The older man’s joy at being in the saddle again, even for one short afternoon, touched Justin. He couldn’t imagine the misery he’d feel if he lost the ability to ride.

  Carter Foster reined to a stop and swung down from his saddle. “I’ve come to call on Miss Travers. See that my horse gets a good rubdown and a bag of grain.” He thrust the reins toward Justin.

  Justin took a step back and folded his arms. “I’ve got work to see to.” He nodded toward the nearest stall, just inside the gaping doors. “Help yourself.” The last thing he cared to do was coddle Foster or his horse. The man wasn’t helpless—or his employer.

  Carter’s laugh was more like a snort. He reached out a hand and tapped Justin on the chest. “You need to remember your place, cowboy. You’re Miss Travers’s hired hand, not the owner of this place. I happen to be courting her, and if I ask you to care for my horse, it’s your job to do so.”

  “Justin? Carter?” Alex’s voice pierced the tension. “What’s going on?” She stepped forward and looked from one to the other. “Carter, I heard you ride up and thought you’d be at the house by now.”

  Carter’s hand fell to his side and a smile melted the hard angles of his face. “Your wrangler was just offering to stable my horse.” He tipped his hat at Justin and held out the reins. “Much obliged, Phillips.”

  Justin hesitated then took the proffered reins. “No problem.” He nodded at Alex and started into the barn, but her voice halted him two steps later.

  “Be sure to bring Toby to supper tonight. Mr. Foster will be joining us, and I’m sure he’d enjoy meeting your son.”

  Justin slowly swung around and his gaze lit on Foster. A strange look passed over the man’s face, and just as quickly it disappeared. He glanced at Justin then turned his back and walked Alex to the house.

  “Come on, horse.” Justin clucked to the gelding and led him to a stall. “You deserve a good rubdown after hauling that hombre around all day.” Foster reminded Justin of a barn cat playing with a field mouse, or maybe a snake slithering after an unsuspecting bird. He shook his head. What did Alex see in the man? He hadn’t seen any signs of interest on her part, but then, what did he know? Foster was right—he was only the hired man.

  “Papa, you here?” Toby’s dark head poked around the edge of the stall divider. “Miz Marfa said come to dinner.”

  Justin grinned at the boy and swung him up onto his shoulder. “What’s my boy been doing all day?”

  Toby giggled, bouncing up and down. “Unca Joe help me ride the horsey. And Miz Marfa fix me cookies. I play wit’ the wag
on Unca Joe made.”

  “You’re gonna be plumb spoiled if they keep that up.” He grabbed a flailing leg as the boy tipped backward. “Whoa there. Hold still, or you’ll fall on your head.”

  “Sorry, Papa.”

  Justin set Toby back on the ground and knelt in front of him. “Did you say ‘Thank you’ to Miss Martha and Uncle Joe for all the nice things they did for you?”

  “Uh-huh. I mean, yes, Papa.”

  “Good. Now we’re going to clean up and go to dinner. Miss Alex has company, so you be on your best behavior, all right?” He patted the little boy’s back and directed him toward the front door.

  “Yes, Papa. I be good.”

  A few minutes later Justin lifted Toby into his chair at the far end of the table and took a seat beside him, just across from Alex. Carter Foster sat to her right and Martha hovered over the table, placing the last steaming dish in the center.

  Carter sniffed the fragrant aroma of the fried chicken and sighed. “Smells heavenly, Martha. I’m envious of Alexia, having you as a cook.”

  Alex glanced at Martha. “She’s the best cook in these parts, if not the entire state. But most important, she’s family.”

  “Martha, you’ve been a godsend to the Travers family over the years. They’re blessed to have you with them.”

  Martha raised her brows and something resembling the shadow of a smile touched her lips. “Why, thank you.” She passed the plate of chicken then some fresh-baked biscuits and a plate of corn on the cob. Silence prevailed as the hearty meal made its way onto each plate.

  Alex set down her corncob and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Have your ranch and mining claim been keeping you busy, Carter?”

  He set down his coffee and nodded. “Very. My herd has grown steadily over the years—so much so that I took a band of geldings to Auburn recently to ship to the cavalry. You know they occasionally ask me for a few extra horses when they’re short. They mentioned you’d not been able to meet your quota after your recent loss.” He hesitated a moment. “They’ve…offered me a contract. I’m sorry, Alexia.”