Her Midnight Cowboy (Keeper's Kin Book 1)

by Beth Alvarez

  “It’ll be hard to miss that. Lotta blood left on the grass.” All leading straight to the tire tracks, too, but Kade was at a loss for what to do about that. He’d insinuated he thought the men brought the creature with them, though he hadn’t said it outright. At least he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t see what happened to the steer. After the monster left the beam of his flashlight, he hadn’t been able to see a thing.

  Sighing, he tugged his scarf down and tucked it under his chin. “I sure expected trouble when I signed up, just not on the first night of the job. Listen, sir, I ain’t tryin’ to be alarmist, but after what happened out there tonight, I think your boys better start riding with rifles.”

  The rancher nodded slowly. “Think you might be right, Colton. Charlie! Grant! Get the ATVs and ride out with Kade, here.”

  The two cowboys nodded and waved in response, respectively.

  “I’ll send Rico out with the herd today,” McCullough said. “He’s probably the best shot we got. I don’t want to think about anything else being after my cattle, but if those rustlers didn’t bring that dog out with ‘em, we’ll have to take precautions. You got a gun, Colton?”

  “Yes, sir,” Kade said.

  “Keep it in your truck?”

  “Yes, sir.” He hesitated, then smirked. “Seems a bit more useful there than under the bed, anyway.”

  McCullough nodded. “Bring it for your next ride. Seems to be a man’s always more comfortable holding his own gun.”

  “True enough.” Kade glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the ATVs. “We going now?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll call the station, see if they can send a boy out here. They’ll meet you in the field if they get out here soon, otherwise they’ll catch up with you at Hammond’s place.”

  Kade tried not to grimace. Like police showing up to question him was anything he wanted Felicity to see. He gave his head a slight shake, dislodging that idea. Why did he care what she thought? She was just the girl running the bed and breakfast. “Well, hopefully they’ll be quick.”

  McCullough chuckled dryly. “I know you’re eager to see your bed. You boys head on out there. I’ll go make the call now.”

  Charlie waved Kade over and they climbed onto the ATV. Neither of the other cowboys seemed overly concerned, even once they reached their destination and followed the bloody trail left in the field. There weren’t any clear tire tracks where the bloodstain ended, but the others didn’t seem surprised when Kade suggested the downed animal had been loaded into the truck and taken.

  He frowned, looking between them. “You don’t think that odd?”

  They exchanged glances.

  “It’s not that it ain’t odd,” Charlie said. “It’s just that we’ve seen it twice already.”

  Grant nodded, pushing back his hat to scratch his forehead. “Marshall didn’t mention?”

  “No.” Kade’s jaw tightened. “He sure didn’t.”

  “Huh. Well, in any case, it’s strange as snow in summer, but your guess is good as mine.” Charlie shrugged.

  Grant laughed. “Maybe they’re just hungry.”

  Charlie grunted, annoyed. “Well, then they should be visitin’ the church food pantry instead of ruinin’ our livelihoods. Father Frank ain’t gonna let no sinner go hungry, but workin’ the saddle is what puts food in my belly.”

  “Don’t think these rustlers care much about your stomach, Chuck,” Kade said. “Besides. I ain’t so sure that was a normal huntin’ hound.”

  “Couldn’t be, if it took down a cow. A wolf though, like you said . . . now, I could see that happening.” Charlie glanced up, nodding toward a pair of headlights rolling through the field. “Here comes our boy in blue now.”

  “Perfect,” Kade muttered. The eastern sky was lightening, promising sunrise soon. “What’re my chances of getting out of here before daylight?”

  Grant snorted. “If it ain’t Sam, then pretty good.”

  Kade’s mouth took a grim set. “And if it is?”

  Spreading his hands and shrugging, Grant clambered back onto his 4-wheeler. “Then y’all will probably still be here when I get back.”

  Charlie scowled. “Where you think you’re going?”

  “Sun’s gonna be up soon. Miss Felicity will be gettin’ her first batch of baking out of the oven, and I want a cinnamon roll.” Grant started the ATV. “Want anything?”

  “Get one for me, too!” Charlie raised his voice over the drone of the engine.

  Kade just shook his head.

  Grant revved the 4-wheeler, waving to the officer in the police SUV as he passed it on his way out.

  “Bet you get your fill, stayin’ there, don’t you?” Charlie grinned, nudging Kade in the ribs with his elbow.

  “Ain’t fond of sugar.” Kade watched the SUV ease to a stop, its headlights shining across the bloody grass. He wasn’t fond of police, either, or the mess that came with crossing their paths.

  “Ain’t talkin’ about sugar.” Charlie lowered his voice. “I swear half the reason he’s after pastries is ‘cause he’s wantin’ a peek at something else.”

  Startled, Kade looked at him.

  Charlie rubbed his nose. “Miss Felicity’s a treat for the eyes, that’s for sure. And she’s got a liking for cowboys, but I don’t think it’ll get him too far. He’s asked her out a couple times, but she ain’t even interested in a walk around town. Hasn’t been, since her fiancé took off.”

  The thought of strolling around the little town’s square the night before filled his head, and Kade made a small sound of amusement. “That so?”

  “Uh-huh. Aw, shucks. It’s Sam.” Charlie sighed, adjusting his hat.

  Both of the SUV’s front doors opened, the officer climbing from one, Marshall McCullough from the other.

  “Morning, boys.” Sam’s voice boomed in the still. He pulled up his sagging belt, striding forward to join them. He was a huge man, broad through the shoulders and built like a bear, only an inch or so shorter than Kade. Despite his size and straight stature, his hair was gray and his clean-shaven face weathered. “Heard we got a problem.”

  “I reckon we do,” Charlie said.

  Kade sighed, pulling up his scarf, tucking his gloved hands into his armpits to seek warmth. Charlie didn’t know the half of it. He wasn’t the primary witness, the one who was about to be subject to scrutiny under the eye of the law.

  So much for avoiding questions.

  FOUR

  * * *

  MORNING SUNLIGHT BATHED her room. Felicity blinked against the grit in her eyes and pushed herself up. It hadn’t been a difficult night, but she didn’t feel rested, either. The nagging sense of something being off kept her from sleeping easy, and it distracted her when she’d been awake. Kicking back the blankets and reaching for the clean clothes she’d put out the night before, she tried not to think of it any more.

  She’d slept; that was what mattered. It wasn’t often she slept well. Last night had been no different. That was why she’d moved to the main floor of the house, rather than that the upstairs bedrooms were better for placing guests. On the nights when insomnia kept her up, it was easy to slip around the corner into the kitchen and do something productive until the next wave of sleepiness came. It also meant it was easy to catnap through the day, ducking into the privacy of her own room while still being close enough for her father to call for her if he needed help with something.

  Dishes clanked in the kitchen, meaning her father was up and trying to make breakfast on his own. He wasn’t a bad cook, but he had nothing on her culinary skills. Besides, it wasn’t just the two of them in the house. There was an older couple who would be checking out today, then there was their new guest. She refused to let him invade her thoughts so early, dressing fast and hurrying out to reclaim her kitchen.

  Emmett stood at the sink, scrubbing the cast iron skillet with salt. He smiled over his shoulder, nodding toward the plates on the table. “Morning, sweetheart. Bacon and eggs.”

>   The one thing he could prepare well enough to present to guests. “Thanks, Daddy.” She finger-combed her hair as she looked at the clock. It was after eight; longer than she’d meant to sleep. Scooting back her chair, she paused to grab her empty cup.

  “I was thinking,” Emmett said, shaking water off his hands and opening the fridge. He dried his fingers on his jeans before getting out the orange juice, meeting her halfway. “Now that we’ve got the front decorated, we should think about decorations inside, too. I know you haven’t felt much like celebrating since we lost your mom, but this year feels different.”

  “It does.” Felicity held up her glass, letting him fill it. They’d done some decorating in the foyer and formal dining room every year since her mother’s death, but only as a formality, for sake of the visitors and their Christmas spirits. “I don’t have any orders to fill right now, so I can get the other boxes of decorations out of the attic later today.”

  Her father’s face lit up. “Great. It’ll be nice to do it again, I think. Do you want to go pick out a Christmas tree tonight?”

  She hesitated. The McCullough ranch kept a plot of hardy pines big enough to call a business, though Marshall called it a hobby. It didn’t seem like much of a hobby at Christmas time, when people came from all over to ride in one of his horse-drawn carriages and cut down their own tree.

  “I don’t know, Daddy.” She carried her juice back to the table, sitting down. “Even getting one from the McCulloughs is more than we can afford right now.”

  “Oh, hush.” Emmett sat across from her, picking up his fork. “We can spare enough for a tree. It’s something special, and we haven’t done it in years.”

  “We haven’t been caught up on the mortgage in years either,” she muttered.

  “We’re doing okay,” her father protested. “You’ve made headway with your baking. I’ve made extra this year doing extra fix-it work around town. We’ve already forgone gifts. We’ve both been working hard, I think that justifies one treat.”

  “I just think we have better things to spend the money on.”

  The sound of boots in the foyer made Felicity’s head turn. She caught a flash of plaid before she heard footsteps on the stairs.

  “Was that Kade?” She leaned back in her chair, frowning.

  “I suppose so,” Emmett said. “I’ve been up since about six thirty. I didn’t see him come in.”

  “Must’ve worked late.” Pushing herself up, she scooted her chair in behind her. “I’ll go ask if he wants breakfast.”

  The door to the suite was open a crack and Felicity hesitated. A narrow sliver of room was visible beyond, though it grew dimmer with the rustle of the curtains being drawn. She licked her lips, knocking lightly.

  A sigh came from the other side of the door, sending a wave of guilt over her. Kade pulled the door open a moment later, disheveled and weary, though he offered a tired smile when he met her eyes.

  Felicity smiled back, her heart climbing into her throat. Even when worn out, he made a striking figure. She stood barely as tall as his broad shoulders. “Good morning, Mr. Colton. There’s food downstairs, if you’d like to eat before bed.”

  “Thank you. Grant brought some of your cinnamon rolls out to the ranch earlier, though.” He rubbed his eyes, then smiled again. “And please just call me Kade.”

  When had Grant been by to get cinnamon rolls? Maybe that was why her father had been up at six thirty. “I thought you didn’t like sweets,” she teased before adding as an afterthought, “Kade.”

  A spark of something glowed in his hazel eyes, his crooked grin lighting up his face. “I like the way that sounds. And I don’t, but there was a bit of a run-in last night, so I was there longer than I thought I’d be.”

  “Oh, and after I dragged you out of the house early, too.” She lifted her hands to her mouth, fighting the flush that rose into her cheeks.

  “Thank you for that, by the way.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want you thinkin’ I didn’t like it, but I didn’t wanna be late for my first night working the herd, either. It was . . . it was nice. I don’t spend a lot of time gettin’ familiar with the places I stay. It’s always work, you know?”

  “I know the feeling,” she mumbled. “But I’m glad you didn’t mind. I don’t get out of the house very often, to be honest.”

  “Well, then maybe we should do it again sometime. Seems there’s still a lot left for you to show me.” His tone coupled with the way his eyes slid over her made her ears burn.

  “Now just what are you suggesting, Mr. Colton?” she scolded.

  He shrugged, crossing his arms. “That I think I’d like to spend more time with you.”

  Felicity swallowed against the fluttering in her middle. She couldn’t tell if it was her heart or her stomach, and that made it odd. Despite her reservations, that he enjoyed her company was a delight. That he wanted more of it was more than she could have hoped for. “I’ll be decorating the house over the next few days. You’re free to join me in untangling string lights, when you aren’t working.”

  Kade laughed, a warm, pleasant sound that sent a thrill down her spine. “All right, then. Listen, I don’t mean to cut you short, but I’m awful tired, and I still need to make a phone call. You do have a phone I can borrow, don’tcha?”

  “Why, no signal here?”

  He shook his head. “I ain’t got a cell phone. Weird, I know. Broke a couple working with cattle, decided I didn’t use ’em enough to warrant paying for a new one.”

  “Not that weird. I don’t keep one, either. Not much point if I don’t go any farther than the grocery store.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pointing at the nightstand. “And yes, we have one you can use. Every room has its own private line. The phone’s put away in the top drawer, there, but it should be plugged in. Toll calls cost extra, though.”

  “I’ll pay for it, don’t worry. And I appreciate it. You enjoy your mornin’, and I might just join you for puttin’ out your pretties later.” Kade gave her a wink, and she found herself grinning after he closed the door.

  “Not hungry?” Emmett asked when she returned to the kitchen and sat down.

  “He ate already.” She picked up her fork, cutting her fried eggs into neat triangles. They were almost cold, but she didn’t notice.

  Her father chuckled. “You sure seem eager to feed him.”

  Frowning, she reached for her glass. “Well, feeding people is something I’m good at.”

  “I know.” He scooped the last of his breakfast into his mouth, amused.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking about what they say about hearts and stomachs.”

  Felicity almost choked on her juice. “Daddy!”

  Laughing, he stood, carrying his dishes to the sink. “I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. Like we were just saying, things feel different. Maybe it’s time, pumpkin.”

  Trying not to feel miserable, she slumped in her chair. “Maybe.”

  And maybe he was right. Kade did give her butterflies. He had striking looks and an easy manner that was worlds different from anyone she’d been involved with before.

  But he was a cowboy, a temporary worker, and if the rustlers Marshall McCullough was dealing with were caught soon, he wouldn’t be there long.

  Still, a tiny voice nagged inside her, lighting a spark of hope. Maybe you could be the reason he stays, it whispered.

  Sullen, she pushed her food around her plate with her fork. “Maybe I can make something special this week, since he doesn’t like sweets.”

  “Maybe you should,” Emmett said.

  A rush of cold air came with the opening of the front door, and someone rang the bell at the desk. Felicity started to stand, but her father motioned for her to stay.

  “And it sounds like your next customer is here. See? Things are looking up.” His dark eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Patting her shoulder on the way past
, he went to answer the bell.

  Felicity stared down at her plate, exhaling and forcing herself to relax. “Maybe so.”

  * * *

  Her mother’s cookbooks were a treasure, and Felicity spent most of the afternoon poring over them. Most of the recipes had changes scribbled in the margins, improvements her mother had used to make things her own. Hers were the recipes Felicity used for all her sweets, and though she’d made a few adjustments of her own, she always felt a twinge of sadness when people complimented her work. Baking had been something special she shared with her mother, and it was a solace after her death.

  Selecting a recipe was the hardest part. She wrote a shopping list, then answered Emmett’s call for help bringing boxes of decorations down from the attic.

  “Why don’t you get your shoes?” he suggested, closing the attic hatch and dusting his hands against his pants. “The tree stand is in one of these.”

  Felicity hesitated, looking toward the stairs.

  “Your work will be waiting for you when we get back,” he teased. “I know getting out of the house is strange for you, but you might like it. We can get a tall one, you know. We could move the desk out of the foyer and have the tree in the opening to the second floor.”

  “I was thinking something smaller for the sitting room.” Something more affordable, anyway. She still didn’t like the idea of the tree, but at some point, it was better not to keep fighting. She could find a few extra odd jobs to cover the expense.

  “Well, whatever you pick out, I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.” Her father smiled, patting her shoulder. He’d never been as physically affectionate as her mother, only offering rare touches for comfort or reassurance, but he did it more these days. Shifting the boxes toward the stairs, he straightened and wiped his brow. “Go on and get ready, I’ll put these by your room.”

  Felicity lingered upstairs just a moment longer, casting a glance toward the suite, watching the shadows that moved under the door. Maybe they could stop and get the things she needed on the way home. That was an unnecessary expense too, of course, but it was easier to justify spending money on food.