by Beth Alvarez
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Author's Notes
About the Author
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Author's Notes
About the Author
Her Midnight Cowboy
Keeper’s Kin: Book One
by Beth Alvarez
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.
HER MIDNIGHT COWBOY
Copyright © 2017 by Beth Alvarez.
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Beth Alvarez
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the express written permission of the author.
First Edition: September 2017
ONE
* * *
“MARSHALL MCCULLOUGH LOST another handful of cattle over the weekend.”
Felicity Hammond glanced up as her father tossed a newspaper onto the counter. “Was that in the paper?” She flicked her head, growling when the stray lock of brown hair in front of her eyes refused to move.
“Not yet, but I’m sure it will be. I ran into him at the gas station. Here, let me.” He tucked her hair behind her ear with a chuckle.
“Thanks, Daddy.” Elbow deep in a bowl of pastry dough, she didn’t have a hand to scratch her itching nose with, either. She rubbed her face against her shoulder, letting the coarse knit of her pink sweater do the job. “How many cattle is that, now?”
“Almost a dozen since Halloween, but they never seem to be able to get more than one or two away from the ranch. Whoever it is, they aren’t a good cattle thief, but they sure are persistent.” He sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh, helping himself to one of her finished treats.
Emmett Hammond had a quiet presence. Half the time Felicity didn’t notice whether he was home or not, but her odd schedule contributed to that as much as anything. Like her, he was slight of frame, though tanned and gray-haired. She thought he looked more tired every time she laid eyes on him. They ran the Hilltop House Bed and Breakfast together; Felicity had assumed her mother’s responsibilities after she passed. Even with the two of them, it always seemed they were falling behind. She often wondered how her parents had managed to raise her and run the place at the same time.
“A persistent thief is just as bad as a skilled one.” She scraped dough from the bottom of the bowl, making sure the flour was worked all the way through. “Maybe worse, since they still haven’t caught them.”
“He mentioned hiring new help to watch the herd overnight.”
“Who did? Mr. McCullough?” Felicity glanced up. “You better not be eating my pastries, Daddy. All these are already spoken for.”
Emmett licked his fingers clean, feigning innocence. “Miss Gertie won’t miss one. And yes, McCullough.”
Shrugging, she dusted fresh flour over the countertop. “Well, I hope it helps. It better, or he won’t have any cattle left before long.”
Her father made a sound of agreement. “I’m going upstairs for the night. You going to stay up a while?”
She laughed, gesturing to the spread of ingredients on the counter.
He waved a hand, laughing as well. “All right, then. Good night.”
“Night, Daddy.” Turning back to her baking, Felicity shook her head to herself. The only news out of Holly Hill these days was livestock theft. From large ranches like Marshall McCullough’s place to small hobby farms, everyone had lost at least a few animals.
She dropped a ball of dough onto the counter and dusted her rolling pin. She barely got one roll in before the back door swung open, a gust of icy wind stirring her skirts.
Gasping in the cold, Felicity spun to look at the clock before glaring at the bundled figure that shut the door and stamped feeling back into their feet. It was half past eleven.
“The inn’s closed,” she said, tempering her voice. Texas weather wasn't normally so cold. The frosty temperatures made her snappish.
“I know,” a deep, masculine voice replied from behind a thick scarf. “That’s why I came through the back door. The front was locked.” He stuffed his gloves into his back pocket, rubbing his hands together. Then he pulled off his black Stetson and unwound his scarf from around his head.
Normally she would have chased him right back out the door and notified her father of a rude guest, but the cordial note in his voice made her pause.
Whoever he was, he wasn’t from Holly Hill. Six-foot-two and broad shouldered as he was, he would have been hard to miss even without his striking looks. He had a squared jaw and a hint of a dimple in his chin, which almost distracted from the dimple in his cheek when he flashed her a crooked grin. Hazel eyes glittered behind inky black hair, which he swept back with one hand. “I know it’s late, ma’am, I’m sorry. Name’s Kade. Just hired on at the McCullough ranch, but with his family visitin’ before the holidays, there ain’t room in the bunkhouse just yet. He sent me on over here.”
Felicity nodded, her displeasure fading. No wonder he'd been insistent on coming in. There weren’t any hotels in Holly Hill, which meant good business for them during the holiday rush. In all their years of operation, though, they’d never put up a relative of Marshall McCullough.
“Funny, we were just talking about him hiring more help. I’m Felicity Hammond.” She wiped her hands clean on a towel before offering one for a handshake.
Kade replaced his hat and stepped forward to take it. His hand was cold, but his grip was strong and grounding. “Pleasure to meet you. Still got rooms in this establishment of yours?”
“A few.” She tossed the towel onto the counter. “How long will you be staying?”
“Until space at the bunkhouse opens up, I’d reckon. Might want to put me near a door, in any case, since work’ll have me keepin’ strange hours.” He stuffed his scarf into the pocket of his coat, giving her baking tools a curious glance.
Of course; he’d be riding with the cattle overnight. “We have the old master suite open,” she sugg
ested. “That might work best for you. It’s the only room with a private bath, and it’ll be nice and quiet during the day.”
He grinned. “That’d be a treat, so long as I can afford it.”
“We can give you a weekly rate. It won’t pinch your wallet too much, I promise.” Turning, Felicity motioned for him to follow her. She led him through the sitting room and into the foyer. A small reception counter sat near the wall, a worn-looking chair and ottoman nestled beside the open staircase.
He peeled off his coat as they walked.
She slid behind the counter, flipping open a small book. “Kade, was it?”
“Yes, ma’am, Kade Colton.”
“That’s a nice name,” she murmured, filling out his room information with a neat hand.
“Thank you, ma’am. My mama sure thought so.”
Smiling, she took an old-fashioned key from a box beneath the counter and jerked her head toward the stairs. “When do you start working for Mr. McCullough?”
“Tonight, after I put my things upstairs. He didn't want me lingerin' too long. Sounds like he needs someone in the saddle as quick as possible.” He followed close on her heels, his hand skimming the banister.
She caught a hint of cologne when she turned her head, something sweet and slightly spicy, rather than the stale old musk most of the local cowboys wore. It was a pleasant difference. “Did you have to travel far, Mr. Colton?”
“A bit, but it ain't so bad. Been bouncin' around the country for work for what seems like forever. Been up north a while, caught wind of more work down this way.” He followed her up the hall, shifting on his feet while she unlocked the suite.
“Well in that case, welcome to Texas.” Felicity offered a broad smile as she extended the key.
He smiled back, the dimple in his cheek deeper this time. “Thank you kindly, Filly.”
She tried not to snort at the nickname. “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs for a bit. If an emergency comes up, my room’s the one off the sitting room downstairs. Breakfast is at eight, though I suppose that’ll be dinner for you.”
“You run this big old place all by yourself?” Kade leaned to the side, surveying the suite. Pleased, he straightened.
“With my father,” she said. “His room’s at the end of the hall if you need him. He tends most things during the day. I cover most of the night.”
“I’ll try not to make too much noise, then. I’ll just get my bags out of the truck and be out of your way for the night.” He touched the brim of his hat, bouncing the key in his hand.
In the kitchen downstairs, the timer for the pastries in the oven went off.
“Oh!” Felicity gasped, picking up her skirts. She was halfway down the stairs before she remembered her manners. “Have a good night at work, Mr. Colton. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
* * *
Kade didn’t know what to expect from a run-down old bed and breakfast on top of a hill. He made a habit of avoiding small places, or anywhere people might be inclined to ask questions. This time, however, the work was too good to pass up. If everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t be there long. Plus, luck was on his side this time around. The holidays were still a few weeks away, Thanksgiving right behind them, and that meant the little inn would be quiet a bit longer.
It wasn’t a bad place on the inside, the walls in good repair and the air rich with the scents of cinnamon and vanilla. Warm, too, which certainly beat his truck.
Then there was the hostess, with her round face and long brown locks.
As a rule, he didn’t get involved with locals while on a job, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy a bit of eye candy. Watching her scale the stairs ahead of him had been a treat, and something that hadn't caught his fancy in a long time. But watching was the only treat he had time for, he reminded himself, wiping his palm against his jeans as if to scrape away the feeling of her handshake. He had work to do, and thinking of those doe eyes and round hips wasn’t going to get it done any faster.
He didn’t have a lot in his truck, just two bags of personal effects. He hefted them out and double-checked the console for anything important that might have made its way out of the bags, then paused to check on his horse in its trailer. His employers always liked that he brought his own mount, and having a familiar animal to work with made it easier for him.
Satisfied, Kade slung one bag over his shoulder and trudged back inside, toting his things up to the suite.
It wasn’t a great room, sparsely furnished with just a queen-sized bed, nightstand and dresser. Odd that it didn’t have a mirror—not that he thought he’d need it—but with the adjacent bathroom and its mirror over a wide sink for two, he supposed it wasn’t needed. No artwork on the walls, but he didn’t need that, either. It was a simple and functional space, and as long as it gave him somewhere to sleep, it’d do fine.
He didn’t think much of the door locking with a skeleton key, a latch that was easily picked, but he figured Felicity would be up there daily to clean anyway. He wasn’t in the practice of leaving anything incriminating in his lodgings, but he’d double-check before he left each night, knowing she’d have the chance to look around while he was gone.
Felicity said she’d be in the kitchen, so after bundling up again, he went out the front. Whether he was concerned about drawing her attention or himself getting distracted, he didn't know, and he didn't give it much thought. Work was waiting.
The McCullough ranch wasn’t the smallest outfit he’d worked, but the rancher only held a couple thousand acres and a few hundred head. Were it not for the unusual circumstances of this job, he would’ve thought it beneath him. But the pay up front was generous, given the size of the ranch, and the fringe benefits meant a few weeks here would likely line his pocket well. The worst of it would be the cold.
His travels through Texas had shown him balmy weather in the past, but he’d never run this far north. Holly Hill was sandwiched between Dallas and Amarillo and it was colder than he thought it should be, though small talk with the locals at gas stations assured him snow and freezing temperatures weren’t unusual for this part of the country. He shook his head, adjusting his gloves as he parked near the horse barn and slid out of the truck.
Marshall McCullough had been waiting for him. The man moved across the gravel drive between the house and the barns with a long-legged stride, a pair of border collies trotting at his heels. “Bit later than I expected,” he called. He didn’t wear a coat and didn’t seem to feel the cold. His long-sleeved blue dress shirt made him look like a businessman in spite of his tan cowboy hat and worn jeans. The dogs growled, territorial, but a gesture from the rancher silenced them.
“Blew a tire on the trailer comin’ down 40,” Kade replied easily, pulling off one glove to greet the man with a handshake. “Fine piece of land you have, Mr. McCullough. Farther north than I expected to see a ranch, though.”
“Ah, there are enough farms out here. Started as a family thing, grew over the years. No sense movin’ south when all the family’s always been here.” McCullough gripped his hand hard, his salt-and-pepper mustache twitching. “Colton, was it?”
“Yes, sir. Kade. Mind showing me where to put my horse?”
The rancher nodded, scratching his forehead with a thumbnail. “Right this way. We’ve got plenty more horses if you need ‘em, but one should do you, most nights. It’s twelve hours on, twelve hours off, six to six.”
“Dex should be fine. We’re used to long hours.” Kade wriggled his fingers back into his glove, making his way to the back of the trailer. His tall bay gelding stamped and snorted, anxious to move. “Sounds like you’ve had a time fillin’ that shift.”
“Took some doing,” McCullough agreed. “Get a lot of city boys out here these days who expect hour lunches and free wi-fi.”
Kade gave a deep, hearty laugh. “Well, you won’t have that problem with me. Don’t eat much, anyway.”
Chuckling, the rancher waved him toward the barn
. “There’s an open stall down here on the right, and plenty of space in the tack room for your things. Make sure it’s labeled if you don’t want the other boys using it, otherwise we share and share alike. Help yourself to anythin’ you need, saddle soap or extra leads.”
The other horses in the barn whinnied and stomped, tossing their heads and rolling their eyes as Kade led his mount past.
“Don’t pay them any mind,” McCullough said gruffly, striding ahead and opening the stall door. “We’ve all been a bit antsy about visitors the past bit. The animals feel it when the rest of us are antsy, sure as anything.”
Kade waved him off. “Ain’t no thing. Want me to saddle up for a tour?”
“Nah, he’s had a trip too, let ‘im rest. Let me grab some extra gas from the shed and we’ll take an ATV.”
Nodding, Kade unclipped the lead from Dex’s halter, patting the gelding’s neck before stepping back and letting McCullough close the stall. The rancher made his way back toward the house, the dogs trotting beside him. By the time Kade had his tack put up in the barn, the man was back with a mud-spattered 4-wheeler, a red fuel can strapped to the back.
“Little late for scouting fences, but we’ll make do. Got a couple flashlights. Hop on and hang on tight.” McCullough extended one steel flashlight, starting the ATV after Kade took it and clambered on behind him.
The low clouds in the sky made it hard to tell which direction they headed, but with the fence running for miles around the ranch’s acreage it was impossible to get lost. They ran a long track around the ranch, sticking close to the fence when they could, McCullough pointing out landmarks and places cattle had gone missing.
“And here’s where they got the last batch, near as we can figure.” The rancher shut off the ATV and gestured toward a new section of wire in the electric fence.
Kade slipped off the 4-wheeler, shining his flashlight at the ground. Sure enough, there were tracks from cloven hooves and booted feet, all worked together in such a mish-mash it was hard to tell where they’d been headed, save that the trail led past the electric wire and disappeared into the field beyond.
He frowned. “Noticed anything unusual when the cattle go missin’?”
