Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming (24 page)

Angel drifted on a cloud of calm for the next few days, in spite of her concern over Travis’s cattle. The peace that surrounded her in the barn hadn’t left, and while she wasn’t certain it was God, the strong possibility comforted her. She wasn’t ready to talk to Libby about it yet. Maybe she would if the feeling lasted, but right now she simply wanted to hug the newness to her heart and hope it didn’t disappear.

She’d been hunting the golden panther for the past six hours, after another fruitless search yesterday. Not even a sign of tracks hinted at where the cat might be. Another half-eaten carcass surrounded by a pack of coyotes gave testament to the cougar’s presence. The downed cow was a hefty two-year-old, too large and quick for the coyotes to kill.

Between the wolves, cougars, and rustlers, Travis was taking some serious losses. He’d reported the rustling to the sheriff, and Arizona brought a report back from their neighbor who’d been hit and suspected cow thieves, as well. There was talk of mounting a posse, but nothing had been done as yet.

Angel chafed at the thought of men stealing cattle from Travis. Why hadn’t she thought of that when her uncle was involved all those years? Shame burned its brand on her heart, and she sank farther into her saddle. Deep down she’d always known it was wrong, but her love for Uncle José had overridden any guilt. Now she stood on the other end of the branding iron—men were stealing what
she
worked hard to protect—the very cattle that put food on the table of the family she’d come to love.

The word jolted through her, and she gripped her horse with her knees as a surreal feeling of being thrown off-balance washed over her. Love? Sure. She cared about Libby, James, and Travis. But love? Angel mulled over the word, thinking of all it entailed. Travis’s visage rose in her mind, and her heart rate increased. Her hands grew damp, and she wiped one palm down her jeans. There was no way she could be in love. Why, she didn’t even know what loving someone looked like.

A memory of affectionate voices from years past bobbed in her mind. Mama and Papa—laughing—hugging—talking to one another in hushed tones. Later, after Mama died of the fever, Papa would speak of her long into the evening hours. His voice reflected the longing, loneliness, and love he’d felt for his wife. Yes, she did know what love looked like—or at least, what it felt like. But did that type of feeling extend to Travis?

Bella snorted and sidestepped around a jagged rock in the path, and Angel brought her thoughts back to the task at hand. She felt something for Travis, and it was different than what she’d felt for José, or the friendship with Libby—she just wasn’t quite sure in what way. This would have to wait for another time. The last thing she needed was to daydream and miss her opportunity of finding that cat.

She spent another three hours scouring the countryside, checking two of the waterholes and grazing areas the cattle frequented. Nothing. As much as she’d like to bunk under the stars and continue the hunt, she knew the family would worry. It would take a couple of hours to get back to the house at a steady trot, and she’d barely make it home for supper. A flick of her wrist and a nudge with her heel and Bella swung around. The mare perked up and gave a low nicker. Angel leaned over and stroked her neck. “You know where we’re going, don’t you, girl?”

The sun hung midway between the apex of the sky and the horizon. Nothing moved in the distance. Angel loosened her rifle in its scabbard. Taking chances while alone out here wasn’t a good idea, especially with cattle rustlers in the area. It had been four days since the small herd was driven off, and no more cattle had turned up missing. The cowboys had been riding the range fully armed and ready to shoot if they encountered anything suspicious. Even though life had quieted down, Angel knew better than to trust the reprieve.

Something moved up ahead. She reined in her horse and studied the area at the base of a rock bluff. Had she imagined it, or had it been heat waves shimmering? No. There it was again. A man on a dark bay horse. A flash of light hit her in the eyes, then disappeared. She pulled her rifle and rested it across her saddle bow. It was possible one or more of the cowboys was using a spyglass in hopes of spotting rustlers.

He was too far to recognize, but she didn’t know the horse. It could be one of their neighbors, as she wasn’t far from the Winston place to the west. It was doubtful a rustler would be out here alone. Surely he wouldn’t allow himself to be spotted, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She kicked Bella from a trot into a canter, keeping her rifle steady as she rode.

The man wheeled his mount and headed the opposite direction. She was still a good half mile away. He seemed to disappear against the face of the bluff. She wasn’t familiar with this area, as their cattle never ventured here with all the rock, brush, and lack of water or grass. If the stranger was a neighboring rancher, why not wait and talk?

When she arrived at the stone outcropping, it appeared to extend farther than she’d realized, both to the side and behind. Brush grew out of cracks in the rock, and small trees fought to maintain a tenacious hold. A scattering of pebbles and larger stones lay along the base, giving silent witness to the power of the changing season as ice and wind chipped away at the impressive bluff.

She rode for several moments before she spotted clearly defined hoofprints and three hand-rolled cigarette butts on the ground. He’d been waiting here for some time. For what? He couldn’t know she’d come by. Was he simply resting his horse? He could be a cowboy passing through to Montana, but most cowhands she’d met loved to
palaver,
as they liked to call a lengthy chat. Maybe when she removed her rifle, he’d decided to ride on. She shrugged, wondering how he disappeared so completely.

Another hundred yards told the story. The tracks led inside a fissure in the rock face. It appeared to widen as it progressed and looked to be a natural tunnel formation. She’d tell Travis when she returned. She felt confident in her ability to track the man, but common sense forbade her. It could easily extend to a small valley on the other side, but it might end somewhere within the rock bluff. Either way, there was no guarantee the man was friendly. She’d follow her original plan and head home. But when Travis or one of the men came to investigate, she intended to be there.

Travis sat in his office, unable to concentrate on the ranch ledger. He shoved it aside and tipped back in his chair, resting his boots on the corner of his wooden desk. He still hadn’t told Angel about the man who’d been asking after her in town. Why the clenching in his gut whenever he thought on the matter? He folded his arms across his chest. He’d let her know the next time they spoke.

His thoughts drifted to the first time he’d seen Angel in a dress and the two Sundays since when she’d worn yet another. She hadn’t lost any of her allure, and he still found it difficult to keep from staring. The cowboys were equally smitten. All but Nate, who only seemed to have eyes for Travis’s sister.

Libby deserved happiness. He knew she was lonely, but it never occurred to him one of his men might fall for her. He’d had no indication from her that she might return the sentiment, other than a blush and an almost too-vehement protest when he’d acquainted her with his suspicions. But his foreman was a strong, godly man who would treat a wife kindly and be a good influence in James’s life. Maybe he’d find a way to help things along, if Libby and Nate didn’t figure it out on their own.

He plunked his feet down on the floor, sudden resolve washing over him. Who was he to talk about figuring things out? He cared for Angel, and he hadn’t given her so much as an inkling. What was he afraid of, anyway? Rejection? He shrugged. Maybe, although he hated admitting it. He’d had plenty of rejection from his father over the years—he should be used to it by now.

Could Angel possibly care for him in return? There was one person who might be able to tell him. Libby and Angel had been increasingly cozy ever since Angel saved James’s life. If anyone had a glimpse into Angel’s private thoughts, it would be his sister. He pushed to his feet and stalked to the door, jerking it open.

Maria de Luca stood there, hand raised ready to knock. She took a step back. “I am sorry, Signor Travis. If I bother you, I come back to talk another time.”

Travis shook his head, as surprised as she. “Not at all, Maria.” He swept open the door. “Please. Come in and have a seat.” How ironic. He hadn’t considered seeking out Angel’s grandmother. He ushered her to a chair across from his desk, settled her into it, and took his place. “Would you care for anything to drink?” He started to rise, but she waved him back.

“No, grazie. I mean, thank you.” She smiled. “Just to talk will be enough.”

“Are you finding your needs met here on the ranch?”

“Ah, yes. Everyone treats me with much respect. I did not know Americans were so gracious when I come to this country. You are people with great strength and determination, as well as kindness.”

“I’m glad.” Travis leaned back and relaxed. Maria had added a delicate flavor to his household. When she’d first arrived he’d been a mite concerned, especially when Angel didn’t take to her. But everything had worked out, and the two women had grown close. “What can I help you with?”

“I must speak to you about my granddaughter.”

He sat up straighter. “Certainly.”

“I am concerned for her future. She needs a home of her own. I grow old and will not always be here for her.” Maria laced her fingers in her lap, and a rustling emanated from the dark brown silk.

“Yes, I can understand, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I have no intention of sending Angel away. I’m very happy with the job she’s done, and—“ He took a deep breath, wondering if he should bare his heart to this woman before he did so to Angel. She could be an ally and maybe help sway Angel toward the suit he hoped to present. On the other hand, he had no idea how Maria or Angel felt about him as a possible suitor. “She’s become a part of our family.” There. That might hint at what he was feeling. All he could do was hope she picked up on what he was trying to say.

“You and your sister have been most kind, offering my Angel a home. But there is more to consider than just a home.”

“Yes?” He wasn’t sure what she implied.

“I want to see my granddaughter married. Hopefully with babies around her before I die.”

Elation coursed through Travis’s heart. He and Maria wanted the exact same things, and he had a feeling she’d come to him in hopes of reaching an understanding. He’d heard that many of the older generation from European countries still selected spouses for their children and grandchildren. While not unheard of in this country, it was becoming less common. “I understand your desire, Maria. I think that would be a good thing, as well.” He smiled, sure of her next words.

“That is why—“ She looked him straight in the eyes. “I take her back to Italy with me. There are many good families there with strong men to make a fine husband for my Angel. I ask your help to convince her to return there with me.”

Travis stared at the door where Maria had exited. He had no idea what incoherent nonsense he’d mumbled after she’d made her grand announcement. Angel leaving and returning to Italy? According to the older woman, Angel was seriously considering it, and Maria felt it would only take a little urging from him to convince her. She’d left satisfied that she’d achieved her goal, although he’d not made any promises. In fact, he’d been unable to do more than smile and stammer.

Why hadn’t he declared himself then and there? Told her he was in love with her granddaughter and wouldn’t allow her to leave the ranch, much less the country? A quiver started in his stomach and worked its way up to his throat. He wanted to bellow in frustration, but he held it in. He wouldn’t speak to Maria about his desires until he’d approached Angel, and that couldn’t happen soon enough to suit him.

Libby. He’d planned on talking to his sister when he’d been sidetracked by Signora de Luca. He frowned. Just an hour ago he’d rejoiced that Maria had come. Now he wished she’d never discovered Angel’s whereabouts. He twisted his lips to the side. That wasn’t fair. He’d made the decision several years ago to trust God with his future—all of it, not just an occasional piece. Who was he to decide who could come into Angel’s life and who couldn’t? When things got tough he still needed to trust, even though his inclination was to wrest control back into his hands.

Trotting beats entered the yard, and Travis peered out the window. Angel drew her black mare to a halt in front of the barn and swung to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh, and he bolted to his feet. This might be the time he’d been waiting for. The men were still out on the range, and Libby was in the kitchen with Smokey. He jerked open his office door and headed outside, grim determination driving his steps. “Angel?”

She paused next to the opening of the barn and looked over her shoulder. “ Travis. I was coming to find you as soon as I unsaddled Bella.”

He paused, studying her. There was no light of happiness, no eager anticipation at the mention of coming to see him. Had he assumed too much about how she might feel? After all, they’d never broached the subject. “You have something to report?”

“I do.” The words were short and almost sharp. “Give me a few minutes.” She disappeared inside, leaving the barn door standing open behind her.

He wanted to follow her and pour out his heart—tell her how his thoughts dwelt on her so often each day, beg her to consider becoming his wife and not leave the country—but something held him back. Angel had seemed cautious, worried. Maybe he’d better hear her out first. Several minutes passed, and his impatience grew. He walked to the corral and leaned against the fence, watching the mares and colts grazing in the pasture.

A boot crunched on gravel behind him, and he turned. Angel stood several feet away, a curious expression clouding her face. As quickly as it came it disappeared, and she walked forward, resting her hip against the middle rail.

“What did you need?” He tried to maintain a casual tone, but everything within was in turmoil. Even in her work clothing she was beautiful.

Her wide, dark eyes shone with an indiscernible light, and her lips parted, but no words came. Her gaze lingered on his and time paused as longing swept over her face. Then she shook herself. “I think someone was following me today. If not following, at least spying on me.”

The words were the last thing he expected to hear. All thoughts of romance disappeared. “Spying? Who?”

“I don’t know; he was too far away. But I believe he had a looking glass.”

“He didn’t approach you?”

“No. He disappeared in a gap of the bluff, and I didn’t want to follow him.”

“Good. Don’t go back there. There’s no sense in taking chances.”

She bristled and turned a scowl full on him. “I
will
go back out there. I’m hunting a mountain lion that’s bringing down your calves. Besides, I can handle a gun as well or better than most men.”

“That wouldn’t stop someone from taking a shot at you from a distance, if they’re of a mind to.”

She plucked at a piece of dry bark still clinging to the corral rail and pitched it aside. “No one’s hunting me, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Travis hesitated then said what he knew he had to. “A few days ago, when I talked to the sheriff, he said someone’s been asking about you.” Angel’s hand stilled. “Did he say who?”

“The man didn’t give his name, but he said he’s a relative—cousin or something—and that you disappeared. Said he’s been hunting for you and wondered if the sheriff knew anything about you.”

“What did the sheriff tell him?”

Travis shifted his weight to his boot heel and leaned against the fence. “He didn’t trust the man and didn’t tell him anything. Told him he’d look into it.” He watched her closely, but her expression didn’t change. Her posture relaxed, but her fingers still clung to the wooden bar.

“I see.”

“Do you have a cousin or relative that might be hunting you?”

“No. Must be a case of mistaken identity.” She hunched one shoulder. “I’ll show you where the rider sat his horse if you want to track him.”

“Sure. As long as you’re with me or one of the men. But I mean it, Angel. No more riding out alone until the rustlers are caught.”

“But there haven’t been any more cattle missing, and we don’t know the man watching me is anything more than some lonely cowboy gawking at a woman.”

“It doesn’t matter. My orders stand.” He turned away, frustrated at the way the afternoon had ended. He’d hoped to let Angel know how he felt about her, and instead he’d discovered her life might be in danger from some unknown rider. His love life would have to wait. Angel’s safety was more important.

Three days later Angel sat the gelding she’d decided to work at the base of the cliff where the man had disappeared. She’d brought Travis, Nate, and Wren out here the morning after she’d imparted her news, and their tracking had hit a dead end. The canyon branched within the dark, overhanging cliff walls where little light sifted in, making it hard to follow the trail. The hard-packed, rocky ground added to the problem. No trace could be found, and there’d been no other sightings of the stranger.

Angel had ridden out today without Travis’s knowledge. He assumed she planned on joining Nate, and she hadn’t dissuaded him of the idea, preferring to go back to the rock bluff alone. The news Travis had shared about the man claiming to be a relative spooked her, and she’d been fighting a sick dread in the pit of her stomach ever since. Could the man who’d spied on her, and the one the sheriff spoke to, be one and the same? She didn’t care for what that possibility opened, and she loosened the gun in her holster.

Only the tracks of Travis’s horse and those of his men lingered at the face of the rock wall. No new cigarette butts lay on the ground. It was like the man had vanished—or decided he wouldn’t be found. She swung off her horse, wishing yet again that she’d ridden Bella, but her mare needed rest, and some of the other stock needed work. She scouted along the base, stopping to kneel and run her hands over the dry grass.

Panic had gripped her at Travis’s words. One man kept coming to her mind. Bart Hinson. His evil leer had lingered in her mind for the past three years. She tossed the handful of grass she’d plucked onto the ground and then swung into the saddle, suddenly anxious to leave this place. Nothing good would come of being here.

“Going somewhere?” A man’s slow drawl came from the dark shadow of the cleft in the rock.

Angel’s hand flashed to her gun.

“Don’t even think about it. I already got mine aimed at your head.” Bart Hinson walked out of the shadows, a Colt pistol gripped in his fist. “Ease that gun back into your holster, and turn around. Slow.” He barked a sharp laugh. “You’re a pretty woman, but I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

She released her hold on the butt of her gun, revulsion leaving a bad taste on her tongue. “I’d hoped you were dead.”

“Ha. Nice seein’ you again, too. Always did think you were too good for everyone else.”

“I am. At least for the likes of you.” She wanted to claw his eyes out. If only she’d had her gun drawn and ready. Nothing about this place had felt right, and now she understood why. She’d been an idiot to disobey Travis’s orders and allow herself to fall into this man’s grasp. He’d kill her as easy as look at her, and never think twice.

“You won’t be singin’ that tune for long.” He leered at her, and Angel’s skin felt as though it had been dribbled with hog slop.

“I’d suggest you clear out of this country. Ranchers don’t take kindly to rustlers, and the sheriff has men hunting you.”

“That’s why I’m here, darlin’. You’re going to help me with a little problem.”

“I’m not helping you with anything, other than into an early grave.” She stared at his gun hand, wondering what chance she might have if she drew and shot. Probably not much, unless she could distract him, and that was doubtful. All the years she’d known Hinson he’d been focused on self-preservation.

“That’s what you think.” He motioned with the muzzle of his pistol. “Keep your hands clear of your belt if you don’t want a bullet in that pretty arm of yours. Come on now, rest them nice and easy on your saddle horn. There’s a good girl.” He leaned his backside against the rock. “You’re going to help us steal your boss’s cattle.”