Love Finds You in Last Chance, California

by Miralee Ferrell

  She searched the trail leading down to the house and glanced back the way she’d come. Nothing. Had she imagined that shaft of light? It could’ve been the sun reflecting through the trees. She glanced upward and shook her head. No, the sun was in the wrong position to have sent its rays over the hill and into her eyes.

  Someone had been at the top of the hill—watching her? An unladylike word slipped from her mouth and she booted her horse. The mare jumped forward, rocking Christy against the high cantle. She righted herself and gripped the reins, slowing the mare. Stupid move. The last thing she needed was an injury.

  Sometimes she hated what she’d become. Sometimes? Most of the time. She trotted down the trail and spurred the mare into a lope. The dangerous pace fit her mood. The sooner she got this distasteful chore behind her, the sooner she could crawl back in the hole she called home and pull a blanket over her head.

  Toby shouted with glee as he sat up straight and gripped the reins. His short legs didn’t reach the stirrups bouncing against the belly of the shaggy pony. “Giddup.” He shook the reins and rocked in the saddle.

  Alex watched the antics of the small boy in amazement. “He’s smart and not a bit afraid. He’s listened to everything you’ve told him.”

  Justin kept moving, leading the patient black pony around the enclosed corral. “I’ve not found much that Toby’s afraid of so far. Except the dark.” He ducked his head after he’d spoken the words.

  “Has he always been that way?” She leaned her arms on the split-rail fence.

  “Not till after his mother died. Molly let him sleep with her every night, and I guess he’s not as used to me.”

  Toby’s energetic bouncing caused the horse to break into a trot. “Go fast, Papa. Toby like to go fast.” Justin turned and grabbed the boy as he nearly toppled from the saddle. “Whoa, there. You need to hold still.”

  Toby quieted, a serious look on his small face. He held a finger up to his lips. “Shhh. Toby be quiet and not scare the horsey. Go faster, Papa, okay?”

  Justin laughed, and the transformation on his handsome face gave Alex a small start. Her mind replayed his words. Toby not used to his father? Wouldn’t Justin have slept in the same bed as Molly?

  The sound of hoofbeats on the hard-packed trail approaching the house drew Alex’s attention, and she was surprised to see the redheaded woman she’d met at the store—the saloon girl who’d asked after Justin. Miss Grey loped her horse across the open space leading to the barn. Alex had forgotten she’d invited her to visit. She lifted her hand and waved as the woman drew near, trying to muster a genuine smile. A pang of disappointment hit her, but she pushed it away, reminding herself that Justin was an employee—nothing more.

  “Miss Grey, I see you found our ranch.” Alex nodded at the woman sitting sidesaddle on the prancing mare. She certainly could handle a horse. “Would you like to step down and come in?”

  “It’s Christy, remember?” Something about her tone seemed sharp and unnatural. “No, thank you; I won’t be here long.” She turned her attention to the corral, and her eyes widened. “Is that Toby?”

  Justin stopped his tedious circle and stepped alongside the boy. “Yes. And you are?”

  Alex frowned and looked from one to the other. Christy knew Toby, but Justin didn’t know her? She’d asked for him by name. It wouldn’t be easy for most men to forget a woman like this.

  Christy’s eyes swung toward Justin and narrowed. Her horse snorted and sidestepped. “You know very well who I am, Justin Phillips.”

  He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair then slid it back onto his head. “I’m afraid you have the advantage.” He turned to Alex. “You know this woman? You called her Miss Grey.”

  Alex pushed off from the wooden rail and frowned. This wasn’t making sense. “We met at the store a few days ago. She came in asking for you. I invited her to come out. Maybe I should go into the house so the two of you can settle this.” She took a step away from the corral.

  “Wait.” Both Justin and Christy spoke at the same time. Justin clamped his lips shut and nodded to Christy.

  “Please don’t go on my account,” the woman said. “I’m not staying long. I’ve just come to get Toby.”

  Justin clutched the pony’s reins, his eyes blazing. “I beg your pardon? Who do you think you are?”

  Alex stepped into the corral, drew the whimpering boy off the pony, and held him close.

  Christy sat back on her horse and settled deeper into her saddle. “I’m Molly’s sister, Christy. Half sister, actually, as you well know. I see you’re trying to pretend you don’t know me, just like you pretended a lot of other things.”

  Justin uttered a low growl and drew himself up. “I’ve never met you before in my life, and I never heard anything about Molly having a sister.”

  “Ah, just like you supposedly married her?” She gave what sounded like a forced laugh. “What you really did was move in with her, get her with child, and then desert her when she told you about the baby. Why’d you come back when she died, Justin? Did you think Molly had money stashed that would go to Toby?”

  Justin gaped at the woman, seemingly at a loss for words.

  Christy bent over and dropped her voice. “I want my sister’s boy. You have no right to him. You barely know him, and you weren’t even married to her.”

  He sprang over the fence and landed a few feet from her horse. “Get off this property.”

  Christy’s eyes narrowed. “From what I understand, you don’t have the authority to be giving orders. You’re just a cowhand here.”

  Justin gave Christy a hard look, his voice firm. “Miss Grey, I don’t know what your game is, but I married your sister—that is, if she was your sister.”

  She reined her horse back. “Then I want proof. And until you give me that, I want the boy. I won’t take a chance of you disappearing with him.”

  Justin jerked his head up and glared. “Over my dead body, lady. He’s my son and no one’s taking him away from me.”

  “We’ll see about that. I’ll be talking to the sheriff when I get back to town.”

  Toby whimpered and reached for Justin. Alex patted his back and pulled his head down on her shoulder then stepped forward, her eyes flashing. She raised her hand and lifted her voice, not bothering to keep the anger from her tone. “Miss Grey, I don’t think your current living conditions are acceptable for a child.”

  Justin stared at Alex as though trying to understand the direction her words were going. “Living conditions?” He spun back toward Christy. “Where do you live?”

  She remained silent and bit her lip.

  Alex walked up beside Justin. “She works at the saloon as a dance hall girl. She told me so when I met her at the store.”

  Christy’s face hardened as she straightened and picked up her reins. “We’ll see what matters and what doesn’t.” She pushed her horse around with her heel and clucked to the mare.

  Christy cantered off the property and spurred her horse up the hill, feeling as if a pack of hounds bayed and nipped at her heels. Dirty—she felt dirty and disgusted with herself. Alexia Travers had been decent in the store and hadn’t shunned her, even when she’d heard where she worked. Christy couldn’t blame her for using that information now—she’d have done the same in Miss Travers’s place.

  Her thoughts turned to Molly’s boy—she’d only seen him a few times as a baby, when Justin was gone on cattle drives. A branch lashed her face as she drove her mount under the trees, heedless of the trail or what might be coming.

  Truth be told, she hadn’t known what kind of a father Justin was—until she saw him with Toby just now. But it was too late—the damage was done. She’d just threatened to destroy the man’s happiness, and she’d succeeded in destroying any chance of friendship with the only decent woman who’d been kind to her.

  Alex handed Toby to Justin and headed for the house without a word.

  “Alex, wait. Please.” Justin’s frustr
ated voice floated toward her, but Alex kept moving. “I’d like to explain—”

  She stopped but kept her back turned. “There’s nothing to explain. It’s not my business what my employees do—or have done—as long as they’re not running from the law.”

  Solid footfalls sounded behind her. Toby fussed and demanded to get down. “Want to ride the horsey more. Please, Papa?”

  “Later, Toby. I need you to be quiet, son. All right?”

  “All wight.” The child’s plaintive voice reached Alex’s ears. “What’s wrong, Papa? Why you frowning? You sad?”

  Alex’s heart started to melt. She drew a deep breath and turned to face them. “I’ll listen to what you have to say, but not now. Maybe later. I don’t think it’s something Toby needs to hear.”

  Justin hoisted the boy higher on his hip and nodded. “You’re right. I’ll put the pony up, and then I need to get to town to send a wire. You’ll find out the truth, Alex.” He stared at her for a long moment before turning toward the barn.

  Alex felt rooted to where she stood as her mind ran in circles. The accusations Christy had leveled at Justin were ugly. Alex wanted to believe him, but the logical side of her mind urged her to take it slow and discover the facts. She’d only known him for a couple of weeks, after all, and a lot of questions about his past remained. First, there were the accusations at the church when he first rode into town and the problems plaguing her horses since he’d arrived. He’d come back to the ranch an hour before Carter and his hand rode in—and if she remembered correctly, he’d been in the area not far from where the fence had been cut. He claimed to have been scouting for stray horses.

  And although Justin had also claimed he’d been married and had called Toby his son, something didn’t add up where Molly and the boy were concerned. Why would Christy think she could claim Toby and get away with it? Could it be possible that the accusations were true? If Molly had the same type of background as her sister, it was certainly possible.

  Then there was Christy. Something about her had seemed fragile and genuine when they’d met in the store. In today’s encounter it had been like Alex was seeing a different person—hard, cold, and scheming. But what did Christy have to gain if her story weren’t true? Why would a lone woman working at a saloon be anxious to have the care of a child only three years old? None of it made sense.

  Justin returned from the barn with Toby and stood to face Alex. She felt her eyebrows rise. “So you can prove your claim. You weren’t just saying that so she’d leave.” She felt awful asking him, but she felt a deep need to know the truth.

  Justin’s face turned a dusky red. “I’m not a liar, Miss Travers, whatever else I may be.” He stroked Toby’s hair and cleared his throat. “I hate to ask you this, and I guess I can take him with me….”

  “Of course I’ll keep Toby. Go. It’s fine.” She reached for the boy, and he came willingly into her arms. “Let’s go read a story, Toby.”

  “All right. Toby likes stories.” He patted her face with a grubby hand and smiled. “Then ride horsey again?”

  Alex couldn’t help it; she had to laugh in spite of the circumstances. The child didn’t give up. “Not today. Maybe another day, when we have more time. Papa has to go to town while we read a story.”

  He heaved a deep sigh and settled his head on her shoulder. “Okay.”

  Justin leaned over and kissed his son on the cheek. He raised his eyes to Alex. “Thank you.” He didn’t step away but stood close, grim determination covering his face. “I’m going to prove she’s lying, whatever it takes. I can’t stand—” He broke off and turned his head then spun on his heel and strode to the barn.

  Alex stared after him, not sure what she believed. She’d wanted to keep her distance when she’d heard he’d been recently widowed, and now she was being told he’d never been married. Had he loved Toby’s mother and married her—or used her and discarded her when the baby came along? The latter didn’t seem to fit the type of man he appeared to be, but what did she really know about him?

  Very little. She turned back toward the house, carrying the quiet boy on her hip. And at this point, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to know.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Justin swung into his saddle with Durango already in motion. The plunging stallion hadn’t been out of his pen since yesterday and was anxious to run. Justin didn’t look back but leaned forward and loosened the reins. His mood suited the fast pace of his mount—driving and dangerous. He wanted to yell, punch someone, or shoot something—anything to fix the mess he’d had no part in creating.

  The doubt evident on Alex’s face scorched his insides. The seeds of mistrust had been sown, and he wasn’t sure how he could squelch them. Even if the preacher who’d married him and Molly remembered the ceremony and produced a letter, what proof would he have that the letter was genuine? Any friend could send a letter by stage claiming to be a preacher.

  He wanted to rail at God for letting this happen. God could have protected him—even rewarded him for staying with someone like Molly and taking her problems on his shoulders. But for some time after he’d married her, he’d struggled with being tied to a woman who’d proven she didn’t love him and only wanted to use him.

  Did God even care what happened to him? A pious mother and father had taught him right from wrong. He’d regularly warmed a church pew when he was younger, but he’d drifted away when he reached manhood. Beads of sweat trickled into Justin’s eyes and he swiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. That could be the problem now. God might not look kindly on someone who’d ignored Him all these years.

  His horse headed up the steep slope, and Justin shook himself out of his thoughts. No sense in laming his horse on the rocks littering the trail. The stallion still teemed with energy and fought the bit, unwilling to settle his gait. Justin sat deep in the saddle and gave another hard jerk on the reins. The black shook his head but slowed to a steady trot.

  Recent tracks showed plainly in the soft earth under the fir trees, and Justin leaned over to peer at the ground. One set looked like the tracks of the mare the woman rode, but another set of hooves had traveled the same area shortly after hers. The prints were imprinted over the top, and from the spacing of the strides, it appeared the rider might have been following at the same pace.

  He thought back to the last hour. He hadn’t noticed anyone riding up this hill, and this wasn’t a frequented path. Could the rider have been waiting in the trees? The Grey woman could have a partner, but if so, why follow instead of ride with her? There was plenty of room in this section for two horses side by side. They’d surely want to discuss the recent confrontation.

  Justin decided it would be a good idea to follow and see where this second set led.

  He kept an eye on the trail for the next couple of miles, and the tracks didn’t vary. He reached the edge of the rocky area and headed down the trail leading toward the fast-moving stream. The tracks continued to overlap, and the mare hadn’t slowed or pulled to the side to allow the second rider to catch up. The woman must not have been aware someone followed her. Interesting. It looked like this could be more complicated than he’d assumed.

  One quiet word to his stallion and Durango surged ahead, eager to run. Justin kept his mount reined to a steady lope, not eager to overtake the Grey woman yet. At the stream crossing he slowed and bent low from his saddle. Looked like the tracks following her headed upstream, away from town. Justin sat for a moment and considered, but then he decided to keep to his original plan. If they didn’t get another shower, he’d follow the tracks on his return—assuming he had enough light.

  He’d keep his eyes and ears open in town, but with so many miners working claims in the vicinity, it wouldn’t help to ask about strangers wandering through. Besides, he was enough of a stranger to raise a few eyebrows if he started digging for answers. Better to keep quiet and see what he could find out on his own.

  Christy stood back in the shadows of the
saloon and watched Justin Phillips ride past on his tall black stallion. Dried lather covered the horse—it looked like Phillips had run him for a while before slowing down and cooling him out. She didn’t blame him; she could imagine the torment and anger that must have chased him down the trail. Nor was she surprised that he appeared in town on her heels. She’d half feared he’d jump on his horse and spur after her, overtaking her by the time she reached the stream. Thankfully her mare loved to travel at a fast trot. They’d covered the ground at a rapid pace and crossed the rushing stream without incident.

  All the way to town she’d sensed something pursuing her. She’d kept looking over her shoulder, wondering if he were closing in. She didn’t fear Phillips, but she deeply feared the man who’d summoned her here. She breathed easier now, knowing the man behind her must have been Phillips all along. He’d probably had no more desire than she to meet on the trail and had held back when he’d spotted her up ahead. She’d barely had time to slip into her work clothes and take her place in the saloon.

  A voice already slurred by drink sounded close behind. “Hey, Christy. You gonna get me another beer or stand there peekin’ out the door?” She swung quickly, not wanting whoever it might be to grab her arm or bare shoulder. More than one man had felt the back side of her hand when he’d gotten too familiar and she’d not been in the mood to tolerate his touch. Tonight would be one of those nights.

  “Hurry up, would ya? I’m thirsty.” The sound of heavy footfalls drew near.