Her Midnight Cowboy (Keeper's Kin Book 1)

by Beth Alvarez

  “I figure they got a reason to be worried,” Grant said, turning his horse, shooting him a dark look. “And I figure you know just what it is they’re afraid of, don’t you?”

  “I think they’ve had too much to drink.” Kade met his eyes with a cool, challenging stare, though the man’s words were unsettling. He saw the flash of gray in his head, conjured by his memory, but he tried to ignore it, narrowing his eyes. He knew what he’d seen. The question was, what had Grant seen?

  “I don’t like the way the air feels tonight, but I ain’t stayin’ a minute longer than I have to.” Grant rubbed his arms as if to ward off a chill. “Be careful out here, Colton. I’ll see if I can get one of the boys to ride out and check on you some time tonight.”

  “They don’t gotta, but I appreciate the thought.” Kade waved him off. “Now you get on back there before they drink all the beer. You look like you need one.”

  “Feel like I need one, too,” Grant laughed. “Take it easy, cowpoke.”

  “You too.” Kade turned his head to watch him go, then wound his scarf a little tighter and sighed.

  He certainly wasn’t afraid, but the conversation had been worrisome. Livestock dead and blooded now and then through the course of several years, and now a person killed the same way. All the others ill at ease and, though he didn’t say it outright, Grant said enough to let Kade know they’d need to talk later.

  Maybe there was cause for concern. It wasn’t the death of a stranger that concerned him, so much as the means. If the man had bled out at the crime scene, the men probably wouldn’t have found the bloodlessness unsettling. He couldn’t think of many ways to drain a person of blood that way without causing an enormous mess, but there were a few, and all of them set off warning bells that he was in over his head.

  SEVEN

  * * *

  EMMETT MADE A sound of displeasure, reaching for his cup.

  Felicity eyed him over her shoulder, pulling a tray out of the oven. The first few pieces for gingerbread houses turned out perfectly. She’d wrap them in plastic and put them in containers in the fridge after they were cool, so they’d hopefully still be fresh when other guests started to arrive. Somehow, she doubted Kade would be interested in building one.

  “What’s the matter, Daddy?” She slid the next baking sheet into the oven and closed the door.

  “Nothing. Just the news.” He took a drink, then shook the newspaper with both hands to straighten it.

  Felicity didn’t want to ask. Gertie’s warning of bad news had been enough to keep her from touching the thing. She wanted to comb through the classifieds—she was always looking for work they could fit in around her baking and tending the Hilltop House—but she’d have her father pull out that section for her later. Instead, she pulled off her oven mitts and busied herself with tidying the counters.

  The kitchen was almost clean when they heard the front door open. It was past dinnertime, far too early for Kade to be back, and too late for anyone to be asking after Felicity’s sweets. Exchanging curious looks, Felicity and Emmett both headed for the foyer.

  They rounded the corner just as a young couple in clothing too light for the weather put their bags on the floor.

  “Hello!” the man said through chattering teeth, trying to grin. “Sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Hammond. Felicity.”

  Her brow furrowed. “How can I help you?”

  He straightened, sniffing and rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “I didn’t see any cars out there, does that mean you have rooms open? We got in a bit later than expected. It’s my first time making the drive back from school on my own.”

  “Nick! I almost didn’t recognize you.” Emmett stepped forward, offering a handshake.

  Felicity blinked in surprise. She’d been Nick Foster’s babysitter when he was younger; she didn’t recognize him at all. He’d grown a lot, but looked nothing like his father. Where Sam was built like a brick wall, Nick was more like an artful sculpture, delicate and spindly, seeming fragile by comparison.

  Nick grinned, shaking her father’s hand and giving her a wave before turning. “This is Penelope, my fiancée. Penny, Emmett and Felicity Hammond.”

  Penny raised her fingers in greeting. “He talked about the bed and breakfast the whole last hour of the trip. I have to say, he’s right. It’s very charming.”

  “Thank you.” Felicity smiled, sliding behind the desk. “We have several rooms open, we’d be happy to have you. But why aren’t you staying with your family?”

  They hesitated, exchanging worried looks.

  “Sam’s a busy man. I understand wanting to give him a bit of space to relax on his own.” Emmett chuckled, glancing up the stairs. “We’ve got someone staying in the suite, so I’m afraid we can’t offer you that one. Felicity, how about the corner room?”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” she murmured, writing it down in the ledger.

  “Dad suggested we stay here when we spoke to him this morning, actually,” Nick said. “I called to let him know we were heading out. He sounded pretty frazzled, so you’re right, Mr. Hammond. We’ll be close enough to pop over and visit whenever we want this week, but we’ll have space to hide if we need to stay out of his hair.”

  “Well, we’ll do our best to make sure it’s a comfortable space.” Felicity closed her book and pulled a key from its box. “Come on, I’ll show you your room. Daddy?”

  Emmett picked up the suitcase and duffel bag Penny had put down. Nick grabbed the others and Felicity led them up the stairs.

  “The place sure does look nice when you’re driving up,” Penny said, leaning forward to peek into the open rooms on their way to the end of the hall. “Nick said it was nice, but it’s different to see it yourself.”

  Felicity beamed. “Thank you. We just started decorating, so I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Smells good, too,” Nick sniffed deeply, emphasizing the statement.

  “There’s gingerbread in the oven. You’re free to come down and have some.” Felicity pushed open the door, motioning them in.

  “Awesome. Felicity’s baking is the best, you know. She wins a blue ribbon every year she enters something at the county fair.” Nick dumped his bags into the floor, pushing them out of the way with his foot.

  Felicity blushed, stepping aside.

  Penny slid her purse off her shoulder, adding it to the pile of bags. “Oh, how cute. This is going to be a lot nicer than sleeping on your dad’s pull-out bed.”

  Nick rolled his eyes. “I never had a problem with that pull-out when I was visiting on my own.”

  “Yes, well, you could sleep on a rock.” Penny batted her eyelashes at him, sitting on the edge of the queen-sized bed.

  Felicity tried not to laugh. “So, I take it this will work?”

  Nick nodded. “It should, as long as you’ve got an internet connection.”

  “Of course.” Emmett put down the bags he carried with considerably more care than Nick had exercised. “The password for the wireless is on the card in the nightstand. There’s a phone in there, too, just in case you need it. Anything else we can help with, just ask.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hammond,” Penny said, clasping her hands in her lap. “I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable here.”

  Felicity brushed a hand against her father’s arm, turning him toward the door. “We’ll let you get settled in, then. Have a good night. I’ll be downstairs for a while if you need me.”

  Emmett followed her out of the room, though he sobered after the door was closed.

  “What’s wrong?” Felicity asked in a murmur, creeping down the hallway.

  “You know why they’re here.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Sam wouldn’t let them stay together. They’re not married yet.”

  Felicity stopped by Kade’s door, blinking. “Come on now, Daddy. He wouldn’t have told them to stay here if he wasn’t okay with them staying together.”

  “I doubt he told
them specifically to stay here. He probably just told them to stay somewhere else.” Emmett shook his head, pausing at the top of the stairs. “What are you doing?”

  She unlocked Kade’s door, pushing it halfway open. “Housekeeping, now that he’s out. I’ll be down in a minute. Check the gingerbread for me, would you?”

  Her father nodded, going downstairs without her.

  Aside from the pile of clothes beside the door, the suite was clean. Kade had made the bed before heading out, and his dirty clothing was even folded. Sort of. She smirked at the effort, ducking into the bathroom to take the used towels.

  Kade might have been bold with her, but he seemed to have good manners otherwise. A surprise, given her previous experiences with men. Or, rather, experience; Michael had been the only man she’d ever been seriously involved with.

  Scooping the laundry into her arms, Felicity carried it down, sparing a glance for her father on the way through the kitchen. He pulled the baking sheet out of the oven and put it on the stovetop to cool. Satisfied, she slipped into the mud room off the end of the kitchen, turning her attention to the clothing she dumped onto the floor in front of the washing machine.

  Aside from undershirts and socks, almost all of it was blues and grays, flannel and denim full of dust. She made a face at the dirt left behind on the pale tile as she picked out the whites and tossed the rest into the washer. Who knew how he got so dirty when he spent most of the night on horseback. It looked like he’d been rolling in the pasture instead.

  One pair of jeans jingled when she picked it up and she poked her fingers into the pockets, putting aside the coins. She pulled out the other pants to search them as an afterthought. Empty, save a business card in one back pocket. She turned it over.

  It was the plainest card she’d ever seen, black on both sides with the front only sporting two lines of small white print. No logos, just a telephone number and a name: Thaddeus Birch, Keeper.

  * * *

  “Do you ever leave this kitchen of your own accord?”

  Felicity snorted a laugh, flashing Kade a smile as he shut the door and pulled down his scarf, tucking it beneath his chin.

  “When I do, I usually go no farther than the rooms upstairs.” She pulled her hands from the dishwater and shook them off before reaching for a towel. “Hungry?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She made a sound of exasperation. “When are you going to let me feed you?”

  “Soon as you start servin’ food I like.” He shrugged out of his coat.

  “I’ve never heard of a picky cowboy. How do you not starve, working overnight?” She wiped her hands and tossed the towel to the counter.

  He chuckled.

  Despite her frustration, she found herself smiling. His presence did that to her; smiles came easily and her spirits seemed higher. It was strange to look forward to his company, stranger that some small, jealous part of her wanted him to spend less time working and more time visiting at the bed and breakfast. She tried to quash it, reminding herself he wouldn’t be there forever. At most, he’d be there until Christmas, when Marshall McCullough’s family all packed up and headed home, emptying the extra beds in the bunkhouse that were normally kept for additional farmhands.

  “I finished your laundry,” she said, trying not to think of his eventual departure. They’d deal with that when the time came. “Hang on, I’ll get it for you.”

  “Already?” Kade followed her across the kitchen.

  “Well, I was up, so I figured I should work.” A rosy flush colored her cheeks as she picked up the basket of folded clothes and offered it to him.

  He frowned, taking the laundry basket from her arms. “Up for what?”

  “Nothing. Just . . . up. Insomnia.” Felicity ducked her eyes, smoothing her hair with her fingertips. “I’ve had trouble sleeping ever since I was young. I’m up a lot of the night and sort of nap through the day. It makes this a good job for me, since I don’t have to stay awake for a whole eight hour shift after being up all night.”

  “Maybe you should ride midnights with McCullough’s cattle,” he teased.

  “Maybe. Oh!” She scooped the things from his pockets off the top of the washer. “Here, these were in your jeans. What’s a Keeper?”

  Kade’s eyes shot to her face. His easy manner evaporated in an instant and he shifted closer, a cold intensity in his gaze. “Where did you hear that?”

  Felicity blinked, startled, then looked away. “It was on the card.”

  He snatched the card and change out of her hand, stuffing them into his pocket.

  Her cheeks burned again, but this time from discomfort. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry ’bout it,” he murmured. “Just don’t be pokin’ around in my things.”

  The edge in his voice made her skin crawl and, for a moment, she was reminded that the man in front of her was all but a stranger. One who’d swept into her life and threatened to turn everything upside down, who made her heart race and her whole body ache for his touch, but a stranger nonetheless.

  Sighing, Kade shifted the basket in his arms. His shoulders relaxed and his expression softened with the return of his typical good humor. “In any case, thanks for taking care of this for me. You really didn’t have to.”

  “And you didn’t have to buy me a Christmas tree.” She smiled weakly, willing herself to settle. She’d come across as nosy, that was all. She’d been in his room, after all; she couldn’t fault him for thinking she’d been snooping. He hadn’t meant anything by it.

  Kade cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders before letting the corner of his mouth twitch with a smirk. “Speaking of trees, what would you think of puttin’ some hollies back up here on the hill? Give the town its name back?”

  Felicity shrugged, fighting a small smile of her own. “I’ve thought about putting some holly bushes out front.”

  “Well, I found some stray ones growin’ in the brush out in McCullough’s pasture. If you’re interested, I’m sure I could convince him to let us dig ’em up.”

  “What, really?” She stifled a laugh.

  Kade’s brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Is this what we’re doing? You’re wooing me with shrubbery?”

  “That depends.” He shifted again, moving the basket to his other arm. “Is it working?”

  Maybe it was. She thought about transplanting holly bushes to the front of the house with him, picturing him kneeling in the dirt in the golden glow of sunset.

  Felicity wasn’t about to tell him that, of course. It was dangerous for men to know what you really thought, especially when you were already teetering precariously on the edge of feelings. She brushed past him, making her way back to the sink. “Most men use flowers, you know.”

  “I can do that, too.” He turned to follow, putting his laundry basket on the table. “So long as your daddy ain’t around to see me do it, anyway. I don’t think he likes me too much.”

  She fished the wash rag out of the water. “He worries about me, that’s all.”

  Kade frowned and said nothing.

  Felicity pretended not to notice. It was possible he was right; Emmett had seemed fine with the idea of her trying to catch Kade’s attention until he’d walked in on them in the kitchen. And while he’d said he wasn’t rushing to pass judgment, his attitude toward Kade had cooled quick.

  Not for the first time, she wondered what exactly Marshall McCullough had said. It was obvious they suspected Kade was involved with the rustlers plaguing the local ranches, but she couldn’t see it. He was too straightforward, too casual. Besides, signing on to watch the cattle overnight and losing one on his very first ride seemed too quick. If he were involved, wouldn’t he be more careful? Chances were, whatever thieving operation was running in Holly Hill knew fingers would be pointed right at him. It had to be bad luck.

  “Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat before you go to bed?” Felicity asked, trying not to worry about it anymore.

  K
ade shook his head. “No, thank you. I think I’ll just get a shower and then tuck in. Thank you again for tendin’ the laundry for me.”

  “No problem.” Warmth swelled in her chest when he smiled.

  He slid the basket off the table, resting it against his hip and turning toward the door.

  “Oh!” Felicity cried. “I almost forgot. We have new guests with us, in the room across from Dad at the end of the hall. They don’t seem to be early risers, so please try not to make too much noise while you’re up there?”

  Snorting a laugh, he leveled a sober look with her. “I don’t snore.”

  “I didn’t accuse you of it, Mr. Colton,” she replied coyly, turning back to the dishes.

  Kade growled. “Would you stop callin’ me that?”

  Shrugging, she rinsed a bowl and added it to the stack of drying dishes. “As soon as I think of a better nickname for you.”

  “What’s wrong with my name?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged again. “But you don’t call me by mine.”

  He rolled his eyes, swinging the laundry basket around in front of him and heading for the stairs. “Good night, Filly.”

  “Good night, Mr. Colton,” she called back.

  His snarl of frustration was drowned out by the creaking of the front door.

  Felicity turned her head to listen.

  “Morning, Mr. Hammond,” Kade said.

  “Morning, Mr. Colton.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched and she restrained her smile. The men didn’t say anything else; Kade’s boots sounded on the stairs and Emmett strode into the kitchen a moment after.

  “Morning, buttercup.” Her father came close enough to press a kiss to her temple, tossing a handful of mail onto the counter along with the morning’s paper. “Any trouble this morning?”

  Felicity shook her head. “Not a lick. Nick and his lady are still sleeping, I think.”

  “I didn’t mean them,” Emmett said.

  She struggled not to sigh. Maybe Kade was right. She rinsed the last dish and wrung out the rag, hanging it over the faucet while the sink drained. “He’s a nice man, Daddy.”