Second-Chance Bride

Though she came west in her wedding dress, Deborah Frazier isn’t looking for a groom. She fled St. Louis to escape marrying a man she didn’t love. In Cowboy Creek, she’s found shelter, friends and a job. All that’s now in jeopardy, thanks to a handsome newcomer.

Undercover Pinkerton agent Adam Halloway is hunting for his family’s greatest enemy. The pretty baker at the boardinghouse is certainly hiding something—but is she an accomplice to a criminal? As evidence against Deborah piles up, can Adam trust his heart and make Deborah a bride at last?

KAREN KIRST was born and raised in east Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. She’s a lifelong lover of books, but it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.

Also By Karen Kirst

Return to Cowboy Creek

Romancing the Runaway Bride

Cowboy Creek

Bride by Arrangement

Smoky Mountain Matches

The Reluctant Outlaw

The Bridal Swap

The Gift of Family

“Smoky Mountain Christmas”

His Mountain Miss

The Husband Hunt

Married by Christmas

From Boss to Bridegroom

The Bachelor’s Homecoming

Reclaiming His Past

The Sheriff’s Christmas Twins

Wed by Necessity

The Engagement Charade

A Lawman for Christmas

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Romancing the Runaway Bride

Karen Kirst

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08443-7

ROMANCING THE RUNAWAY BRIDE

© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

“You arrived in your wedding clothes,” he said softly.

“You have the uncanny ability to question me as if I’m on trial. Were you ever a lawyer, Mr. Draper?”

“I apologize for pressing you. It’s none of my business. Although, I will say I understand the locals’ frustration. You’re beautiful, intelligent and talented. Any man with a scrap of sense would make a bid for your attention.”

His praise emboldened her. “You haven’t.”

Adam’s lips parted. His eyes thrummed with emotion quickly squelched. After clearing his throat, he said,

“I’m not yet in that stage of my life. There are matters that take precedence over any desire to wed and produce heirs.”

“What sort of matters? Your ranches?”

“My ranches...” His brows drew together. “Oh, yes. My business obligations are many.”

“So you’ve never come close to falling in love?”

He fell silent. Deborah felt as though she were swimming in that endless brown gaze as the air between them thinned. Why had she asked such a foolish question?

* * *

Return to Cowboy Creek: A bride train delivers the promise of new love and family to a Kansas boomtown

The Rancher Inherits a Family—

Cheryl St.John, April 2018

His Substitute Mail-Order Bride—

Sherri Shackelford, May 2018

Romancing the Runaway Bride—

Karen Kirst, June 2018

Dear Reader,

Thank you for taking the time to read my book. I hope you enjoyed returning to Cowboy Creek and our heroines and heroes—familiar and new—as much as I did. Adam and Deborah’s love story was such fun to explore. Some fictitious couples give me more trouble than others. Not so the detective and the runaway bride! These two took an almost instant liking to each other, so I was glad to have all those secrets keeping them apart until the very end. They also have a lot of personal issues to work through. Toss in a pair of adorable orphans, and I had my work cut out for me.

Writing this book has been a bittersweet experience. It will be my last for the Love Inspired Historical line, which is unfortunately closing this month. I feel blessed to have been able to work with the wonderful Love Inspired editors and complete this, my seventeenth book. While I will miss writing about the past, I’m fortunate that I will be switching to the Love Inspired Suspense line. You can find more information on my website, www.karenkirst.com. I’m also active on Facebook and Twitter @KarenKirst.

If you missed the first two books in this Return to Cowboy Creek continuity, check out Cheryl St. John’s book, The Rancher Inherits a Family, and Sherri Shackelford’s His Substitute Mail-Order Bride.

Many blessings,

Karen Kirst

A man’s heart deviseth his way:

but the Lord directeth his steps.

—Proverbs 16:9

To my mom, Dorothy Kirst, and my sister, Shelly Benson. I’m blessed to have you both! Thanks for making my first writing conference an experience I never want to forget. Thanks for the laughs and fun memories.

Acknowledgments

A huge thank-you to editor Elizabeth Mazer. I’ve enjoyed working with you on this project. And to the other Return to Cowboy Creek authors, Cheryl St.John and Sherri Shackelford. It’s been a pleasure.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Cowboy Creek, Kansas June 1869

There was a blindfolded woman in the boardinghouse kitchen.

Adam Halloway’s training kicked in. He reached for his gun out of habit, only to come up empty. His gun belt and Pinkerton detective badge were tucked away in his saddlebags, where they’d stay for the duration of this investigation.

He scanned the spacious room. It looked like an average kitchen with the usual equipment. Sunlight streamed through filmy lace curtains, painting the bulky working table and floorboards in innocent light. No evil villains lurked in the corners.

His narrowed gaze returned to the woman and made a quick assessment of her appearance. Short of stature, brunette, young. How young was impossible to say with part of her face hidden by a swath of black material. Her posture didn’t scream distress.

He finally noticed the twin saucers of unfrosted cake on the table in front of her. Bowls of assorted sizes littered the far end, and baking tins crowded the hulking stove behind her. With one foot in the kitchen and one in the hallway, he watched as she lifted a bite to her mouth and chewed. A pleat furrowed her brow. She cocked her head to the right. Chewed some more.

What on earth was she doing?

The sense of urgency passed, and he did a more thorough inventory. Her hair was clean and shiny, parted in the middle and arranged in neat rolls. A perky purple and yellow flower was nestled above her left ear. The white apron she wore contrasted with her lavender cotton dress. Below the blousy sleeves, her arms were slender and pale, her hands fine-boned and smooth. Those hands spoke of a life of leisure. The delicate gold chain draped around her wrist and the tasteful diamond earrings winking at him couldn’t be acquired on a cook’s salary. Perhaps she had a wealthy husband who indulged his wife’s desire to work? But there was no gold band to indicate she was married.

She was sampling the second cake when he spoke.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the proprietress, Aunt Mae. Can you tell me where to find her?”

A garbled yelp escaped her. Fumbling to remove the blindfold, she got it off with an impatient tug, slightly mussing the neat strands of her hair. Wide, heavily lashed eyes the hue of polished golden topaz settled on him.

“You’re new.”

“I’m looking for the owner to ask about a room.”

“I meant you’re new to Cowboy Creek.”

He eased farther into the kitchen. “How do you figure? A cattle town such as this one must see its fair share of folks passing through.” A fact that made it easy for a criminal like the one he sought to blend in.

“A man as picture-perfect as you wouldn’t have gone unnoticed.” The second the words were out, she blushed to the roots of her hair. “I shouldn’t have said that. Lucy wouldn’t have given in to the urge.”

“Lucy?”

“My younger sister. She is the definition of proper.”

“Ah.” Adam couldn’t help but be charmed. “I apologize for interrupting your...” He flicked his fingers in the direction of the cake. “Um, what exactly did I interrupt?”

Her hands fluttered, the limp blindfold flapping against her waist. “I was trying to decide whether or not to include ground cayenne pepper in my chocolate cake.”

“Cayenne pepper? In a cake?”

She shrugged. “I like to experiment with different flavors.”

“I’m Adam Draper, by the way.” The false surname left his lips in smooth sincerity. Working for the National Pinkerton Detective Agency since the war’s end four years ago, he’d assumed dozens of personas in his pursuit of criminals. This time, he wasn’t doing it for the Pinkertons. He was here for personal reasons.

She placed her hand in his outstretched one and offered a bright smile. “I’m Deborah, a boarder here. Aunt Mae hired me to bake desserts. I do it in exchange for room and board.”

For long moments, Adam became ensnared by her beauty. Her eyes, almond-shaped and almost too large for her face, sparkled with optimism not readily found in his line of work. She had sleek, dark brown eyebrows that punctuated the lightness of her irises. Her nose was straight, her mouth small and dainty, her teeth white and even. The slight cleft in her rounded chin called for his thumb to rest there.

Her name is Deborah. With a D. The scrap of a note he’d discovered in the last known residence of Zane Ogden, the very note that had led him to Kansas, had been written by someone whose signature began with a D. The rolling script belonged to a woman, he was certain. And this one had failed to offer her last name, an unusual omission.

He ended the handshake more abruptly than he’d intended. “Do you have a last name, Deborah?”

Her smile faltered. “Frazier.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Frazier. Or is it Mrs.?”

She blanched. “I’m not married.”

Why would an innocuous question net that reaction?

Clamping down on his rising apprehension, he smoothed his expression. “I’ve come to Cowboy Creek in search of land. I read about the three men who founded the town and how it’s grown by leaps and bounds. Have you been here since the beginning?”

Her gaze slid away. “Not quite. I arrived a couple of months ago.” Picking up the saucers, she held them close to his nose. “Do you like cake? I could use an objective opinion.”

Adam allowed the attempt at diversion. “Which one has the pepper in it?”

“I can’t tell you. That would alter the outcome.”

“This all sounds suspiciously scientific.”

She laughed. “It’s just cake.”

He moved closer and bent to sniff the first slice. Pinching off a corner, he popped it in his mouth. “It’s good.”

Deborah’s brows lifted in a silent bid for more. He took a second, larger bite. “Very good. The chocolate flavor is there. Not too sweet.” What else did she expect him to say?

“Try the other one.”

Since he didn’t detect even a hint of heat in the first sample, he reluctantly did as she instructed. Cayenne pepper in dessert. Who would’ve thought to put—

“Oh.” The combination of rich chocolate melded with a layer of subtle spice to tease his taste buds. “That’s interesting.”

“Do you like it? Is it too much?” She put the plates down with a clink. “I was aiming for the perfect balance. This is my third attempt. Be glad you weren’t around to try the first.” Her nose scrunched. “I must’ve drunk four glasses of milk that night, trying to cool my tongue.”

Adam was glad, too. “I like it. It’s unexpected.”

Her eyes sparkled, and she looked pleased. “The unexpected can be fun.”

“Or painful.”

“True, but success is rarely achieved on the first attempt.”

Their gazes locked across the expanse of cooking utensils. A breeze wafted through the open windows on their right, scented with the blossoms crowding the painted wooden boxes affixed to the outside sills. In her pretty pastel dress, the bloom tucked against her hair, Deborah Frazier was like a nostalgic summer dream. Adam’s thoughts started to drift from his task.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d met a woman who made him think about moonlit strolls and picnics by the water. At eighteen, he’d escaped his family’s Missouri ranch—and the devastation wrought by Zane Ogden—to join the Union army. There’d been no chance to think about romance during those long, cruel years. And once he’d hung up his uniform, he’d accepted an offer to join Allan Pinkerton’s detective agency. Rooting out criminals and dispensing justice had consumed him, mind, body and soul. He couldn’t rest until he put the man who’d destroyed his family behind bars. That meant no distractions.

Deborah Frazier wasn’t comfortable with his questions. Nor did she offer the slightest bit of extra information about herself. His instincts insisted she had secrets to hide. If she turned out to be the person aiding and abetting his quarry, Adam would personally see she got the punishment she deserved.

He scraped his hand along his jaw, startled when skin met skin. He’d decided to shave his substantial beard for this case. He’d also traded his usual attire for a formal three-piece suit, complete with bolo tie and a pair of bona fide cowboy boots. Adam Draper, Missouri cattleman, had pockets that were well-lined. And he wouldn’t allow an opportunity to flirt with a beautiful woman pass him by.

He affixed a teasing smile on his face and, reaching across the table, brushed a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth. “If I were able to secure a room here, would I be required to sample more desserts?”

Surprise lit her eyes. She pressed trembling fingers to her cheek. “Well, I suppose I could use someone to assist me in that manner. If you wouldn’t mind...”

Adam straightened. She wasn’t accustomed to flirtation, then. Why the notion should please him, he couldn’t say. Steady, old boy. Remember, the best criminals are sometimes the most accomplished actors.

The door in the far corner that led to the rear stoop opened and closed. A woman he guessed to be in her sixties bustled in. She took one glance at the pair of them and, plopping her sacks on the counter, jammed one fist against her ample hip.

“And who might you be?”

* * *

Deborah watched as the handsome stranger softened Aunt Mae’s bristling attitude with a dazzling smile and earnest manner. He indicated that he was in town to scout out potential locations for his expansive ranching operation and would need a room indefinitely. The promise of steady income pleased the businesswoman, of course.

As the pair made to exit the kitchen, the look Adam Draper shot over his shoulder at Deborah remained seared in her mind the rest of the afternoon. There’d been a flicker of something so dark and forbidding, it struck fear in her heart and sent her thoughts scattering to St. Louis and the arranged marriage she’d escaped with hours to spare. Her father was still furious, according to her sister’s telegrams, and still scouring the state for her. But Cowboy Creek was so new it wasn’t on the map. Surely, he wouldn’t think to look in Kansas.

By the time the evening meal had been placed on the table, she was convinced she’d misinterpreted things. Mr. Draper was the first of the guests to arrive. He entered the wide, airy dining room and greeted her with an easy grin. His deep brown eyes hadn’t lost their intensity or intelligence, but they weren’t locked on her in suspicion, either.

Her stomach dipped. Yep, still devastating. Her mind hadn’t mistaken that fact. He was tall, tanned and in excellent physical condition. The pressed navy suit he wore fit his rip-cord-lean frame to perfection. His straight, nearly black hair was brushed off his face, the better to savor his sculpted features. He had an aristocratic nose, defined cheekbones and unyielding jaw. That stubborn set to his jaw made her question if his charm was just an act.

“Good evening, Miss Frazier.” He strolled around the square-shaped room taking its measure, peering through the window glass at the street traffic, running his fingers along the fireplace mantel, admiring the landscape paintings on three of the four walls.

“Good evening, Mr. Draper.” She shifted the salt and pepper containers closer to the ceramic candleholders and fiddled with the folded napkins. “Did you find your room agreeable?”

He took up position behind a nearby chair, his hands curled around the topmost wooden slat. There was no gold ring, nor a line to evidence he’d ever worn one.

“I did, indeed. Aunt Mae put me on the second floor. I’ve a corner room overlooking the main thoroughfare, which means I’ll have a bird’s-eye view of events.” He winked.

He was in the room opposite hers, then. While Aunt Mae preferred to keep the men and women in separate areas, the house wasn’t large enough to do so. Deborah wasn’t sure how she felt about his continued presence in what had become more than a temporary hideout. The memory of his thumb sweeping over the edges of her lips caused her skin to prickle with awareness. He’d already caught her in an unusual situation...how long he’d observed her unawares was anyone’s guess. She didn’t wish to imagine all the different ways she could embarrass herself in front of him.

He indicated the various platters boasting roasted beef and potatoes, sautéed cabbage and other assorted vegetables. “This looks tempting. Are there any unusual ingredients I need to be concerned about?”

“Aunt Mae does the majority of the cooking. I assist her sometimes, but mostly I’m responsible for the desserts.”

She was thankful for the chance to earn her keep while doing something she enjoyed. That meant she could save the funds she brought with her for other necessities.

His eyes twinkled. “And are we having chocolate cake this evening?”

“Not tonight.” She didn’t serve a new dessert until the recipe was perfected. Following their strange exchange, she hadn’t had the fortitude to experiment with icing.

The arrival of another boarder, Sadie Shriver, brought a sense of relief. Having the cattleman’s intense focus directed at her amplified her self-consciousness. There was a reason she’d chosen to slip out of her father’s grand parties and spend the evenings in the kitchens with the staff. She was prone to say or do the wrong thing and embarrass both herself and her father.

Adam Draper had the same effect on Sadie as he’d had on Aunt Mae. Except, the telegraph office clerk didn’t need softening. She was a kind, sincere young woman, sensitive to others’ feelings and always putting others’ comfort above her own. She’d become a particular friend. They’d met on the infamous bride train. During the arduous journey, Sadie had noticed Deborah’s disquiet and, believing it was associated with the prospect of potential grooms, had set out to distract her. While Deborah hadn’t confessed her true reason for being on the train—that would have to remain a guarded secret—she had appreciated her efforts. It had been nice to have a friend, even if she couldn’t be completely open about herself or her past.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Draper,” Sadie said when the gentleman introduced himself. “I see you’ve already made Deborah’s acquaintance.” Sadie shot her a significant glance. “She and I arrived on the bride train together. She’s established quite a reputation for herself. Folks clamor for a taste of her baked creations.”

His startled gaze shifted between them. “Bride train?”

Sadie chuckled. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. Each of us came here in search of a fresh start, at the behest of the town officials. Cowboy Creek has an abundance of marriage-minded men and not enough ladies to choose from, so they advertised in other states and offered to pay our train fare.”

Deborah clamped her lips together. She wasn’t here to snare a groom. She was here to evade one!

“So neither of you have found your perfect match yet,” Adam said.

Soft color brushed Sadie’s apple cheeks. “On the contrary. I’ve entered a courtship with a wonderful man.”

“Much to the local bachelors’ dismay,” Deborah inserted. “Walter Kerr is a professional photographer who was invited to visit by his friend Will Canfield.”

“One of the original town founders, correct?” Adam supplied.

Deborah nodded. “And our current mayor, though he’s set his sights on Washington. Sadie has become Walter’s favorite subject. I’ve lost count how many times she’s posed for him.”

The buxom brunette’s smile radiated happiness. “If only you would give some young man the time of day, Deborah, you too could have your share of romance.” To Adam, she said, “She’s refused no less than ten men’s invitations. Two of them offered marriage proposals upon sight.”

“Is that so?”

Adam’s expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. Even so, Deborah felt the urge to bolt.

Leather soles whispering across the polished floor heralded another arrival. The waft of rose water meant it was none other than Hildie Vilhelm, yet another potential bride who rode in on the train. Resplendent in a periwinkle outfit that complemented her fair hair and skin, she came to stand beside Sadie, her big blue eyes fastened on their new boarder with unconcealed interest.

“Our baker’s refusal to give any man a chance is a common cause for debate,” she said. “Especially considering she rode the train in her wedding attire.”

A headache blossomed behind Deborah’s eyes. She edged toward the exit.

Hildie introduced herself. “Tell me, Mr. Draper, what’s brought you to Cowboy Creek?”

“I’d be happy to.” He turned his piercing focus to Deborah. “But first, I think it only fair to give Miss Frazier a chance to defend herself. What do you say? Will you solve the mystery once and for all?”

Chapter Two

The baker was hiding something. Adam had to work harder than usual to project an air of mild curiosity and to mask the trepidation that swelled inside him. But then, the stakes were higher than usual. This woman could be the key to solving the puzzle of his father’s disappearance nine years ago. She could very well lead him to the blackguard who’d swindled an entire town, laying waste to countless families, including his own.

Not long after Gilbert Halloway went missing, entrepreneur Zane Ogden produced evidence that Adam’s father had acquired a high interest loan against the family’s property. Adam had smelled a rat. Not for one second had he believed that his father would do business with a man like Ogden, especially after he’d advised their neighbors against it. Adam’s brothers, Seth and Russell, hadn’t shared his conviction. After all, how could they dispute Gilbert’s signature? Big Bend’s sheriff had witnessed the transaction. Their differences of opinion on the matter and Seth’s insistence on paying back the “loan” had been the impetus for his hasty decision to leave the ranch and join the Union army.

Adam studied Deborah’s reaction with a practiced eye. Anxiety shrouded her. The skin around her eyes had become pinched. The pale blue vein at her throat fluttered like a nervous bird. Her hand searched and found the gold brooch fixed to her bodice, fingers clinging to the odd-shaped jewelry. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Their hostess entered bearing a basket of butter-slathered yeast rolls. “Sorry to keep you waiting. These beauties took longer than usual to brown.” With a smile that transformed her mannish features, Aunt Mae gestured for everyone to have a seat while she assumed her place at the head of the table.

Adam clenched his fists at his sides. Deborah’s shoulders sagged with obvious relief. She’d been spared...this time.

The blonde named Hildie steered him to the empty chair beside her, with a view of the hallway entrance and the blue and white parlor beyond. Deborah and Sadie found places opposite them. Aunt Mae asked him to say grace, something he hadn’t done aloud in many years. His voice sounded rusty to his ears. His life had become a solitary venture, his faith in God a private thing.

His childhood experiences had been different. Back then, he’d accompanied his parents and two older brothers to church services every week, and social outings were shared with their fellow congregants. Memories of his mother and brothers evoked a multitude of emotions, chiefly sadness and regret. He hadn’t seen them since the day he stormed off the farm. They’d exchanged a handful of letters through the years. Lately, though, he’d yearned for a long overdue reunion. Maybe, once he’d captured Ogden, he’d travel to Missouri and surprise them.

Hildie drew him out of his ruminations and peppered him with questions. She was a persistent young woman. Unlike Deborah, the blonde’s eagerness for a husband was unmistakable. He could’ve told her that men who sensed a woman’s desperation would run in the other direction.

Deborah remained quiet throughout the meal, speaking only when spoken to and not once meeting his gaze. He’d have to get her alone somehow. As impatient as he was for answers, his instincts said he’d have to go slowly with this one. He would have to earn her trust, make her think they were friends.

His opportunity came sooner than expected. At the meal’s conclusion, she offered to help Aunt Mae clean the dishes.

Aunt Mae patted her hand. “You’ve been in the kitchen all day. Hildie will help me, won’t you, dear?”

Hildie hesitated. “I was about to invite Adam to join me in a game of checkers.”

“Plenty of time for that tomorrow.” The older woman dismissed her excuse and pushed a bowl into her hands. “Carry that in for me.” To Adam, she said, “It’s Deborah’s habit to stroll about town every evening after supper. Perhaps you could join her.”

Deborah worried her bottom lip. “I’m certain Mr. Draper is tired from his travels.”

He smiled at her. “I’m never too tired to spend time with an intriguing lady. And please, call me Adam.”

Consternation flitted over her features. “Sadie, would you like to come?”

“I’ve got letters to write,” she demurred. “Maybe next time.”

Deborah gestured limply to the door. “I suppose it’s just the two of us, then.”

Did her reluctance to be in his company stem from embarrassment? Or did she suspect he was more than what he claimed?

* * *

Deborah was certain her companion perceived her unease.

God, please don’t let him ask about the train again. Or why I was clad in a wedding dress.

Was it fair to ask Him for help in this deception she’d created of her own volition? Probably not. If she’d fought her arranged marriage at the outset instead of meekly falling in with the plans, she wouldn’t have had cause to flee her home. Her father’s initial declaration—that he’d promised her to his oldest friend and business associate, Tobias Latham, a man thirty years her senior—had blindsided her. Gerard Frazier had intimated that this union was her last chance to redeem herself and make up for all the ways in which she’d disappointed him. Unable to refuse the rare opportunity to earn his approval, she’d buried her objections.

The newspapers had printed the official announcement. Friends, some dear and some not, had attended a grand engagement celebration in her and Tobias’s honor. Gerard had hired an assistant to guide her in the ceremony planning. The weeks had sped by in a whirlwind of activity until the day arrived for her to pledge her life to a man she barely knew.

Like a coward, she’d bolted without telling a single soul. Not even Lucy, the one person who understood her better than anyone else. She’d waited until reaching Kansas before contacting her sister.

Oh, Lucy, I wish you were here now.

“Would you prefer to go alone, Miss Frazier?”

Adam’s quiet voice pierced her cloud of introspection. Beside her on the shadowed front porch, he watched her with a subdued expression. Guilt pinched her. Here she was engrossed in her problems, without giving a single thought to how he might feel. She’d been in his position not long ago and remembered feeling overwhelmed by the vast, untamed prairie and a little lost amid a crowd of rowdy cowboys, busy shop owners and unwed females jostling for the best bachelors.

“Of course not. I’m happy to show you the town.” Descending the shallow steps and traversing the footpath through the tidy yard, she passed through the gate opening and onto the boardwalk. “Which way shall we go? Left toward the stockyards or right toward the opera house?”

Hands deep in his pockets, he looked both ways and shrugged. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

Deborah led him in the direction of the opera house, drawing his attention to various points of interest. At this hour, wagon traffic was almost nonexistent and the shop windows were dark. Town wasn’t entirely deserted, however. Cowboys were usually out and about, dining at various eateries or paying a visit to Mr. Lin’s laundry services. If there was a show at the opera house, folks congregated in the vacant lots surrounding the building. With all the activity, she felt safe walking the streets alone. That was something she never would’ve been allowed to do in St. Louis. Deborah savored the sense of independence.

As they passed the saddle shop, she pointed out the Longhorn Feed and Grain. “You’ll do a lot of trading there if you decide to settle here.” Her curiosity got the better of her. “What’s wrong with your current place?”

Her blunt query sparked amusement in his rich brown eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Why then would you leave your home and start afresh?”

“I’ve a soul prone to wander, I’m afraid. I like to tackle new challenges simply to ascertain whether or not I can succeed.” His teeth gleamed white in the darkness. “I have several operations across the state of Missouri, but none in Kansas.”

Alarm skittered along her spine. “Missouri, huh? What part?”

“Big Bend.”

Not terribly close to St. Louis. “Do you consider any of those places home?”

“There is one that’s special to me.” His smile struck her as sad. “Over two hundred acres of prime land. Fertile fields dotted with cattle stretching into the distance, with occasional tree groves to block the wind. Near the house, there’s this section of the stream that’s wide and shallow, and my brothers and I used to fish and swim there every summer.”

“How many brothers do you have?”

His face shadowed. “Two. Both older.”

Sensing his reticence, she squelched her questions. “It sounds like a wonderful place to live.”

They passed the livery, which was usually humming with activity.

“Have you ever been to Missouri, Deborah?”

There was no lying about the fact. The other brides knew she’d boarded the train there. “I was born and raised in St. Louis.” Before he could probe further, she directed his attention to the bakery on the next corner. “Can you believe Cowboy Creek has two bakeries? Impressive for a town this size, don’t you think?” She darted over to the main window. Bare, boring tables and chairs occupied the dining area. “I’ve wondered why the owner, Mr. Lowell, doesn’t take more pride in the shop’s appearance. A shame, really. The other one is much better.”

His shoulder brushed hers, his woodsy scent pleasant to her senses. His presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome, she acknowledged. It was nice to have someone to talk to, for a change, as long the subject matter didn’t wander into dangerous waters. Perhaps she’d confide in him about her little quest to solve the mystery of the Cowboy Creek thefts. Ever since the bride train had arrived two months ago, odd items had gone missing from various shops and residences, including a porcelain doll. There were rumors that two children had stowed away on the train, but those hadn’t been substantiated.

“I meant to tell you how much I enjoyed your rhubarb tarts tonight. You could’ve chosen to bake a standard pie and everyone would’ve been equally pleased. Do you always pour so much of your energy into your baking?”

“It’s the thing I most enjoy doing in life. It’s my version of a challenge. Instead of building a cattle empire, I create desserts.”

He tapped the window of the bakery. “Your tarts would sell out in minutes here. Does Mr. Lowell offer anything similar?”

“I haven’t seen anything beyond basic breads, cakes and pies.” The quality of his products was questionable. In her opinion, the only reason he remained in business was because the cowboys who passed through town didn’t have high standards.

“Your talent is being underutilized at the boardinghouse. Have you considered opening your own bakery?”

Wistfulness gripped her, only to be replaced by cold reality. Her sojourn in Cowboy Creek was supposed to be temporary. Staying in one place would make it easier for Gerard and Tobias to find her. But she hadn’t yet been able to bring herself to leave.

She turned to face him. “This town doesn’t need a third bakery.”

His eyes were molten and unreadable in the shadows, but his unwavering focus still twisted her into knots. No other man had affected her this way. None of her acquaintances in St. Louis, and none of the locals who’d approached her in hopes of courting her. Most assuredly not her older groom.

She shuddered.

“Perhaps Mr. Lowell would be interested in retiring.”

A nervous huff escaped her lips. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about operating a business.”

“You strike me as an enterprising woman. If you truly wished to, you’d find a way to make it happen.”

Dumbfounded by this stranger’s evaluation of her, she reached for the comforting reminder of home. He noticed and commented.

“That’s an interesting piece of jewelry.” His fingers gently nudged hers aside to trace the brooch’s edges. “What is it?”

Deborah’s heart thudded inside her chest. Adam was standing very close, his head lowered to get a better look. Light from a nearby lamp shone on his dark brown hair and, for a second, she entertained the thought of skimming her hand over the shiny locks.

As if that wouldn’t be inappropriate.

“I, ah...” She forced herself to stand stock-still as his knuckles skimmed her collarbone. “It’s a rolling pin. A gift from Lucy.”

Lucy, the example of propriety, who’d commiserated with Deborah over the years and helped smooth their father’s ire whenever she displeased him.

He released the brooch and lifted his head. His face was so close she could feel the soft puff of his breath on her skin.

“Lucy again. Why isn’t she here with you? Did she not share your yearning for adventure?”

Deborah struggled to order her thoughts. Why must a random cattleman rattle her so? “Adventure?”

“You’re a single woman who has left family and friends behind to start afresh in a new, unfamiliar place. You may not want to admit it, but you, Deborah Frazier, possess an adventurous streak.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed in his face. Thirst for adventure had been the very last thing on her mind that final day in Missouri.

An argument between two cowboys rose in volume outside the laundry, a few paces farther down the side street. Adam grasped her elbow and guided her farther along the main street.

“You haven’t run into any trouble alone out here, have you?” he said.

“Not once. Sometimes they whistle or toss out invitations, but I’ve never felt threatened.”

“Let’s hope you never do.”

Touched by his chivalrous attitude, she didn’t at first notice he’d stopped short and was staring at the law office window. Belatedly, she angled back, only to catch sight of a curious expression on his rugged features.

“Is something the matter?”

He looked stricken, as if someone had delivered the worst news of his life. His throat worked. “Do you know this man?”

“Russell Halloway? Sure, I’ve spoken with him on occasion. He’s a good sort, for a lawyer. I’ve heard of his extensive work with war veterans, a commendable service if you ask me.”

His gaze glued to the gold lettering, he said, “I used to know a man by that name. Is he young? Old?” A vein ticked in his temple. “Can you describe him?”

“He’s young, in his twenties. Short, dark hair. I’m not sure what color his eyes are, though. He’s distinguished looking, like you.” His gaze jerked to her. There was no amusement this time. He didn’t seem to recognize her or their surroundings. It was as if he were lost in another time and place.

Deborah dared to lay her hand on his arm. His forearm jerked. “Are you all right, Adam? Did the man you once knew hurt you in some way?”

“What? No.” He blinked and shook his head. His eyes cleared. “I must’ve been mistaken. Gotten the name mixed up.” Gesturing in the direction of the boardinghouse, he said, “I’m afraid my travels have caught up to me. How about we continue this tour tomorrow?”

He did look rather fatigued. “Of course.”

They returned to Aunt Mae’s in relative silence. In the yard beneath the overarching branches of the live oak, he stopped her. “Thank you for spending the evening with me, Deborah.” He took her hand in his and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. His lips were soft and warm, his breath a heated caress over her skin. Her knees threatened to buckle. “Considering you’re a recent newcomer, I trust you to give me an honest view of the town.”

“I’ll do my best to help.”

His answering smile was fleeting. After bidding her good-night, he disappeared into the boardinghouse. She climbed the steps in a daze and sank onto the porch swing. Cowboy Creek had just acquired another mystery, it seemed, in the form of one Adam Draper, Missouri cattleman.

Chapter Three

The sights and sounds of a busy morning in Cowboy Creek failed to register. Lost in bittersweet memories, Adam traced the gold letters. Russell Halloway. It had to be his brother. Becoming a lawyer was all Russ had talked about those last years before Adam left. But what would he be doing in Kansas? In the last letter he’d exchanged with his mother—granted, that had been at least a year ago—Evelyn hadn’t said anything about it. Adam had assumed she and Seth remained in Missouri and Russ in Philadelphia.

People don’t stop living because you’re not around. He recalled the words of a fellow agent, bemoaning the ending of a courtship. They grow and change without you.

There were probably many things he’d missed out on because of his chosen profession. While he gained satisfaction from obtaining justice for innocent victims, he did wonder sometimes how long he could maintain this solitary existence. Roaming the nation like a wind-tossed tumbleweed, lonely days bleeding into even lonelier nights, staying in towns just long enough to work cases...he was starting to yearn for more. A place to set down roots. Maybe even start a family.

“Good morning, sir.” A gentleman approached from his right. “My office doesn’t open for another quarter of an hour, but I’d be happy to make an exception if you’re in a rush.”

Perspiration dampened his collar, and not from the June sun beating on him. His chest felt hollow. Anticipation warred with uncertainty. How would his brother receive him—with a hearty handshake or cool disdain? After all, Adam was the one who’d left in a wake of angry recriminations and failed to return home. He was the reason a rift existed in the Halloway family.

“Sir? How can I be of service?”

Sucking in a bracing breath, he slowly pivoted and looked his brother full in the face. The changes were marked. In the place of the ruddy-cheeked boy he remembered was a full-grown man decked out in a tailored suit. Taller and leaner, his features more pronounced, his hazel eyes holding a wealth of wisdom.

“Hello, Russ.”

The confusion on his brother’s face crumbled into shock. Russell fell back a step. His disbelieving gaze raked Adam from head to toe and back again.

Adam lifted his arms to his sides. “Have I changed that much, big brother?”

“Adam?” His voice sounded a lot less upbeat than before. “It can’t be.”

“Well, I promise it is—”

Before Adam could get another word out, he was engulfed in a tight embrace. His throat clogged with pent-up emotion. He wasn’t to be shunned, then. Thank you, God. I don’t deserve this welcome, but I’ll take it.

Adam returned the hug, aware that they were creating a spectacle right there on the boardwalk. For this moment, though, he wasn’t an agent on the trail of justice. He was a man who’d missed his brother more than he’d realized.

Russell pulled away first and gripped Adam’s shoulders. A grin spread from ear to ear. “I can’t believe you’re here. My baby brother, all grown up. And looking quite dapper, I must say.”

Adam patted Russ’s jaw. “Look at you. When did you grow a goatee?”

He laughed. “When potential clients mistook me for an assistant yet to earn my degree.” A man and woman edged around them, their curiosity plain. He tipped his head toward the door. “We should probably take this inside.”

Russ unlocked the door, perched on the desk edge and regarded Adam with lingering wonder. “Wait until Ma and Seth hear about this.” He smoothed his hand over his short hair.

Adam pointed to Russ’s hand. “You’re married?”

“Newly married and expecting a baby.”

He slumped into a chair. “What? Who is she?”

“Her name is Anna. I met her in Philadelphia while at law school.” He grinned sheepishly. “I was actually engaged to her sister, Charlotte, once upon a time.”

“You scoundrel!” Shifting forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. “Tell me everything.”

Time slipped away as Russ regaled him with stories from his school days and his eventual introduction to the Darby family. Charlotte had fallen in love with another man, but hadn’t had the heart to break off her engagement to Russ. Assuming responsibility for the breakup hadn’t earned him any points with the young lady’s family. He’d thought his association with the Darbys over until the day Anna arrived in his mail-order bride’s stead, not to marry him, but to inform him that yet another fiancée—albeit, a mail-order one—preferred someone else. However, when widowed Anna discovered she was pregnant, Russell proposed a marriage of convenience.

“You fell in love with her,” Adam surmised. He’d seen it happen. He’d also seen relationships sour. He was glad Russ had found happiness.

“She’s the love of my life,” Russell confirmed, studying him. “What about you? Have you found someone you’d be willing to give up the Pinkertons for?”

Quite against his will, he pictured Deborah Frazier with her blindfold and her experimental cake. Ridiculous to think of her now. He pushed out of the chair and began to pace. “Not yet.”

“That implies you’re searching for the right woman.”

“Not actively, no.” He hesitated to dampen the mood, but he had no choice. “Russ, I’m here on a personal matter. In fact, I’ve got an alias. Adam Draper, a successful rancher from Missouri. No one can know we’re related.”

Russell folded his arms. “Is it Ogden?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” A sigh rattled his chest. “Do me a favor, will you? Don’t mention him to Ma and Seth right off. Wait until they’ve had a chance to rejoice in your homecoming.”

Adam stared at him. “What are you talking about? A trip to Big Bend? Today?”

“Not to Big Bend, little brother. Cowboy Creek is their home now.”

As on his first day of battle when faced with the grimness of death on every side, he grappled with a feeling of unreality. Was this a dream?

“I don’t understand.”

Russell came over and clapped him on the back. “Let’s fetch our horses, and I’ll explain on the way. You’ve got a lot to catch up on.” He smirked. “There are some surprises I won’t spoil, however.”

Before he was quite prepared, he was on his horse and riding south of town beside Russell, who a short time later brought his mount to a stop on what was, apparently, Seth and his mother’s new home.

Adam did the same, observing a wooden sign. “It’s called White Rock Ranch.”

A dormered, two-story house with deep, welcoming porches anchored the vast prairie. A row of young elms separated the house from the barn and corrals. Hay-filled fields rolled gently to the distant horizon. Sun sparkled on the surface of a small pond.

His brother had chosen well. He prayed Ogden wouldn’t sully what amounted to a fresh start.

He flexed his fingers. “The last time Seth and I were together, I accused him of being a coward.”

As the eldest brother, Seth had made the decision to sell off some of the land holdings, and his mother some jewelry and furnishings, in order to pay off the alleged loan. Furious, Adam hadn’t been able to stay and watch his father’s legacy crumble. He’d been young and impulsive. He hadn’t taken the time to consider his older brother’s side of things.

“That was a long time ago,” Russ murmured. “Trust me, he’s put it behind him. The question is, have you?”

He met Russ’s steady gaze. “I’m ready to be a family again.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

While Russell summoned the house’s occupants, Adam dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post. He was surprised to find his hands were shaking.

“Hey, everyone, come on outside,” Russell called into the house. “Someone’s waiting to see you.” Wearing a goofy grin, he held the main door ajar.

The first one through the door was his ma. He soaked in the changes, the streaks of gray in her brown hair, the crow’s-feet about her eyes.

He rounded the horse and approached the porch steps, his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

“Adam!” Her cry was strangled. She launched herself at him, and he caught her in his arms, breathing deeply of her familiar perfume. “Oh, my darling boy.”

She caressed his cheek, her reddened eyes seeming to take inventory of how he’d matured. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed on the wooden slats, and they both turned to see Seth striding toward them.

There were equal parts caution and joy in his eldest brother’s eyes. His brown gaze gobbled up the sight of him. He halted at the base of the stairs.

Adam took a deep breath. “How are you, Seth?”

Evelyn wiped her eyes and looked anxiously between her oldest and youngest offspring.

“Good. Really good.” The breeze ruffled Seth’s light brown hair, pushing strands onto his forehead. “You look hale and hearty.”

“I can’t complain.”

“We thought you’d come and see us once the fighting was over.”

Adam winced at the subtle accusation. “I should have. I meant to.” He scraped his hand over his jaw. Pride had prevented him. And worry that he’d damaged their relationship beyond repair. “I don’t have any acceptable excuses.”

A muscle twitched in Seth’s cheek. “For four years, we worried you’d get hurt on the battlefield. Or worse. Admit it, you weren’t a prolific writer. Months passed without word. And then, instead of coming home, you joined the Pinkertons and couldn’t be bothered to drop in for a day or two. Do you care so little about your own flesh and blood?”

For the first time, Adam glimpsed the intense hurt beneath Seth’s gruff exterior. Hurt he had caused. Regret flooded him.

“Please don’t argue,” Evelyn whispered, her handkerchief pressed to her mouth. “This is a joyous day. My sons together again at long last.”

Standing at the top of the stairs, Russell no longer wore his lighthearted expression. He watched the exchange with somber wariness.

“We’re not fighting, Ma. He has a right to air his grievances. All of you do.” Adam squared his shoulders and met Seth’s eyes. “Everything you’ve said is true. I’m sorry I was callous and selfish. I’m sorry I didn’t write more often. I could have visited. Multiple times.” Grimacing, he shook his head. “I was foolish to ever criticize you. Everything that happened in Big Bend... We each dealt with the aftermath of Ogden’s perfidy in our own ways. I was too young and stupid to see that then. Will you forgive me?”

The quiet stretched between them, punctuated by cattle lowing in the fields and the rustle of tree limbs swaying.

The grimness in Seth’s features faded. “You’re not the only Halloway with a temper and a hard head.”

The tightness in his chest easing, Adam extended his hand for a shake. Seth gripped it, hard, then yanked him close for a hug. Evelyn started crying again.

“Don’t ever stay away that long again, you hear?” Seth said gruffly in his ear.

Adam nodded and smiled, embarrassed to find his own eyes wet. “You have my word.”

A loud thump sounded inside the house. Adam glanced past Seth’s shoulder and saw a curtain flutter in one of the windows. At the sight of a child’s round, smudged face, he froze. A second one joined the first.

“Seth?” He took a hasty step back. “Are there children inside your house?”

Everyone around him burst into laughter. Seth’s eyes started twinkling. He urged Adam up the steps. “There are some things I have to tell you, little brother.”

“More like people he needs to introduce you to,” Russell added as he followed them inside.

Evelyn’s expression became positively sentimental. “The only thing that could make me happier than having you home, my dear son, is seeing you wed and starting a family like your brothers.”

* * *

Try as she might, Deborah couldn’t oust Adam from her thoughts. When he didn’t show for breakfast, she assumed he’d overslept. Who could say what his eating habits were? Some people preferred to wait until midmorning to break their fast. But when the noon meal rolled around and he still hadn’t made an appearance, she’d had the terrible suspicion that he’d left. If not town, then the boardinghouse.

She’d stooped to asking Aunt Mae—as discreetly as she could manage—who’d stated that he was planning to stay at the boardinghouse indefinitely. The punch of relief Deborah had experienced alarmed her. Now wasn’t the time to entertain an infatuation! Her life was in limbo, her future uncertain. Besides, Adam might or might not decide to make Kansas his permanent home. Judging from his comments the previous evening, he wasn’t keen on staying in one place for long.

A spider scuttled from beneath the plants very close to where she knelt in the strawberry patch. She waited to make sure it was traveling in the opposite direction before resuming her task. Late-afternoon sun stroked her skin, and the agreeable smells of warm earth and grass reminded her it was nearly summer. Back home, their kitchen workers Louise and Wanda would be tending the estate gardens. The pair had treated her as an equal rather than the tycoon’s graceless daughter. They’d allowed her to assist them in the daily meal preparations, provided Gerard was out of the house conducting business. A pang of homesickness struck her unawares.

Snapping off more fruit, she placed the red berries carefully into the basket beside her. Glancing around at the substantial yard behind the boardinghouse, she took stock of the generous veranda, with its wide chairs and bold-hued flowers spilling out of crates, the straight garden rows and towering trees separating this lot from the newspaper’s next door. The trees and bushes lent the space privacy and blocked some of the sounds filtering from Eden Street. Deborah missed her childhood home, but this place had its own charms.

For a runaway bride, she’d been blessed with a safe place to live and friends she could count on. The Cowboy Creek community had embraced her. She thanked God every day for placing that lost train ticket in her path.

The sound of whistling drew her head up and her gaze to the low, white fence along the side street. She recognized Adam at once. Clad in a black suit, his hair slicked off his face, he walked with an air of assurance. Her pulse skipped when he caught sight of her and waved. Instead of continuing along to the front entrance, he opened the gate and crossed the yard.

He entered the narrow dirt path and came to a stop beside her.

“Good afternoon, Deborah. I see you’re hard at work.”

Beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, his eyes shone with excitement. He radiated a charged energy not present last evening. Why the change? Had he found land? Or perhaps a young lady had snagged his interest?

Her belly knotted. Adam was a successful businessman like her father. He’d have high standards when it came to potential brides. A poised, proper lady who could plan social events and execute them without a hitch, a perfectly behaved lady who didn’t have a habit of saying the wrong thing.

She tilted her head back and blocked the sunlight with her hand. “I enjoy being outside if it isn’t too stifling.”

He glanced between her, the half-filled basket and the berries on the plants. “I’ll be right back.”

He hurried to the veranda, where he shucked his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his gray-and-white-striped shirt. Back in the patch, he joined her in the dirt.

“What are you doing?” she said, an unwanted thrill shivering through her at his nearness.

He flashed a grin. “I’m hoping that by helping you, I’ll get the first taste of whatever treat you’re concocting.”

“You make it sound like I’m a mad scientist.”

She averted her attention to the plants, away from the evidence of molded shoulders and thick, muscular biceps beneath his cotton shirt. If he was indeed going to be around for a while, she had to view him as nothing more than a casual friend.

“I’ve only just met you,” he said, humor lacing his tone. “But from what I’ve seen so far, there is a bit of madness to your methods.”

That was a new one. She’d been called inept, thickheaded and socially incompetent. But never mad.

He must’ve glimpsed her frown, because his fingers closed over her wrist. “Hey, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I happen to think your approach is refreshing.”

“Truly?”

His eyes softened. “Truly.”

His fingers cradled her wrist with incredible gentleness. The sensation his touch wrought was both comforting and unsettling. With his handsome face so close to hers, she allowed herself to explore the jutting cheekbones and hard, square jaw, the smooth eyebrows, sensitive crescents beneath his liquid brown eyes and oh, that mouth, generous and well-shaped, able to drive rational thought from a girl’s head.

Desperate for a distraction, Deborah snatched a strawberry from the basket and pressed it to his lips. “Have you ever tasted a strawberry straight from the garden? Nothing beats that burst of sun-heated flavor,” she rambled. “Try it.”

Adam’s eyes went wide. Lips parting, he bit off a huge portion, leaving the green top suspended in her hold. He took his time chewing.

“You’re right,” he croaked, disconcerted. “It’s delicious.”

Face flaming, she snatched on to something, anything to cover her foolish reaction to his touch. “There’s a fund-raiser tomorrow to benefit Will Canfield’s congressional run, and I’ve been hired to provide the desserts. I’m making individual towers of pastry, which I’ll fill with strawberries in a mint and vinegar glaze—”

“Vinegar?”

“I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m hopeful it will add a little zing to the mixture. Sour mingled with sweet.”

“Hmm.”

“You should go. The other town founders, Noah Burgess and Daniel Gardner, will be there, as well as many other prominent citizens.”

He slowly nodded. “Good idea. I have a proposition for you.” He gestured to the basket. “I’ll help you transport and set up the desserts if you’ll agree to introduce me around.”

Her jaw sagged. “Me? I’m the last person you’d want for that job.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I’m not like Lucy. My sister has an uncanny knack for remembering every name associated with every face. She recalls key details of people’s lives. Once, during a dinner party my father was hosting, I put Mr. Rosenbaum next to Mr. Thatcher.”

“And that was a problem because...”

“Because Mr. Rosenbaum’s wife left him and later married Mr. Thatcher’s son.” She shuddered, not fond of that particular memory. “Lucy never would’ve done something so thoughtless.”

Though his fingers made rapid work of the picking, he was careful not to bruise the fragile fruit. “Is Lucy able to create desserts that melt in your mouth?”

“No, but what does that matter?”

He raised one shoulder. “It may not matter in St. Louis, but it matters here.”

Deborah fell silent, mulling his words as they worked. At least a quarter of an hour passed before he broke her concentration.

“See that gray cloud? There’s a storm brewing. We’d better work fast if we don’t wish to get caught in the middle of a downpour.”

When they’d gotten the ripe berries into the basket and reached the welcome shelter of the veranda, she thanked him for his help. She said nothing more because Hildie emerged from the house, her lips thinning at the sight of them together.

“Adam, there you are! How inconsiderate of you to deprive us of your company the entire day.” She slipped her arm through his. “Say you’ll play that game of checkers with me.”

His gaze sought out Deborah. “I wouldn’t mind a game or two, unless you need help washing those?”

Deborah fought a swift rise of jealousy. She enjoyed his company and would’ve liked to have him to herself for a while longer, but she had to be practical. His time would be better spent with Hildie, not her.

“Thank you, Adam. I’ll be able to better concentrate on my recipe if I’m alone.”

He frowned a little. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

The pair went inside, Hildie’s voice carrying through the house like a bird’s trilling song. Deborah sank onto a chair and contemplated the clouds marching across the Kansas sky, soon to mask the sun. Once she’d fulfilled her part of their deal, she’d have to distance herself from the charming cattleman. No more informal tours and no playing liaison. She had a disgruntled groom and irate father searching for her. Soon, she’d have to make a decision. Stay in Cowboy Creek and increase her risk of being found, or purchase a ticket to the next stop on the rail line.

Chapter Four

“You’re a genius.”

Adam licked the glaze from his fingers and, unable to resist, plucked another portion of pastry from the overturned dessert and popped it in his mouth. He’d helped Deborah carry her fancy concoctions into Daniel and Leah Gardner’s grand parlor. Around them, the Gardners’ hired staff bustled about the high-ceilinged room arranging savory snacks and cold drinks. Guests had already begun to arrive.

“I’m hardly that,” Deborah denied. “A genius is someone who invents machines or makes new discoveries.” Her anxious gaze swept the platters. “Did you topple that one on purpose?”

“I find it hurtful that you’d accuse me of purposefully sabotaging your display.”

Grooves marred her forehead. Her mouth went slack. The brewing apology in her brilliant golden eyes strengthened his opinion that she wasn’t accustomed to the back-and-forth between a man and woman.

Reaching over, he quickly righted the shell-pink bloom above her ear. “Never mind me. I was only teasing.”

“Oh.” She skimmed her hands over her pristine white apron.

A warning pounded at his temples. Since when did he flirt with potential suspects?

Adam hadn’t encountered a woman like Deborah Frazier before. She was the epitome of earnest innocence. He couldn’t decide if it was her countenance, her demeanor or a combination of both that made him want to be her protector. Was it all a clever act?

She studied him more closely. “I’m beginning to believe you’re not the ideal person for this task. Kind of like having a fox in the henhouse.”

He smiled. “I do have a sweet tooth.”

He’d mulled over the scant personal information she’d revealed. The fact that she was from St. Louis bothered him. She could’ve easily met Ogden there. He could’ve preyed on her feelings of incompetence in order to woo her into working with him. He needed to remember the reason he was here, and find out more about her. “Who taught you to bake?”

“That credit goes to my father’s trained kitchen staff. Frederica, the head cook, imparted her knowledge of herbs and spices. Louise and Wanda taught me the basics of pastry.” She rescued a pastry that was too close to the platter’s edge. “You should’ve seen my first attempt at a peach pie. Even the dog turned his nose up at it. But they were patient with me.” Lost in memories, her expression turned pensive.

Who was it that had made her doubt herself? he wondered. Her father? Mother? Both?

“Your parents must’ve appreciated the outcome of their efforts.”

“My mother died when I was ten. Unfortunately, my father does not approve of my efforts.”

Any further conversation was cut off by the approach of Sadie Shriver, on the arm of a tidy gentleman with wavy, dark blond hair and blue eyes. His observant gaze swept the space in slow inventory.

“Adam, I’d like to introduce you to my particular friend, Walter Kerr.”

Walter dragged his attention to Adam, who felt like a sample under a microscope. The man did a rapid study of Adam’s clothing and face.

“I feel as though I’ve met you before,” he said at last.

Adam racked his brain and came up empty. He’d traveled the country, working in multiple cities. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that their paths had crossed. He hoped not, for the sake of his ultimate goal. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same.”

Sadie aimed an adoring smile at her beau. “Walter’s a renowned photographer. He has an uncanny ability to remember faces.”

“I would’ve recalled meeting a famous person,” Adam said.

Walter’s features relaxed. “Famous? Not quite. While Sadie’s estimation of my skills is quite flattering, I’m simply a man with a passion for capturing images for perpetuity.”

She patted his arm. “He’s being humble.”

More guests arrived, and the pair made their excuses and crossed the room to speak to the hosts, Daniel and Leah Gardner. Deborah reached for her rolling pin brooch, only to discover it wasn’t there. Clouds of anxiety dulled her brilliant eyes.

“You’re going to be fine, you know.” He gestured to the room of guests behind him. “They won’t bite.”

“You never know.” With a long-suffering sigh, she removed her apron and stowed it behind a squat vase dominating a side table. “Who would you like to meet first?”

“Pink is your color,” he murmured, partially to knock her off balance and partially because it was true. “You should wear it every day.”

Her tasteful dress was crafted of a delicate crepe fabric that lent her fair skin a pearlescent sheen. The bodice boasted a demure scooped neckline, short, ruffled sleeves and embroidered roses at the waistline. Ribbons edged the hem of the substantial hoop skirt. Her dark brown tresses were confined in a neat bun, allowing him a generous view of her swanlike nape and curved shoulders.

Her small, pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “Thank you. I arrived with only one satchel. Hannah Johnson—she’s our premier dressmaker—made it for me.”

“Only one? Most ladies I know wouldn’t dream of leaving home unarmed with their entire wardrobe.”

“My departure wasn’t planned in advance.” She must’ve realized her slip, for her brows drew together in a frown. “There’s Hannah’s father, Reverend Taggart. We’ll start with him.”

She led him to the opposite corner of the long, rectangular room, maneuvering around stuffed couches and intricately carved coffee tables to reach a dignified, brown-haired man peering at a painting of a ship at sea.

He turned at their approach and offered a kind smile. After Deborah introduced them, the reverend invited him to the upcoming services that Sunday. Adam accepted with sincere enthusiasm. It had been years since he’d worshipped with his family.

His breathing hitched, and he barely concealed a grimace. He wouldn’t be worshipping with his mother or brothers. He couldn’t take the chance of someone connecting the dots, especially the person in league with Ogden.

A familiar laugh drew his attention toward the parlor’s main entrance, a broad doorway topped with a transom window. The papered hallway beyond was filling with guests, his brother among them. Russell chatted with the guest of honor, Mayor Will Canfield, as if they were old friends. Adam belatedly noticed the woman standing off to the side. Afternoon light shining through the many windows glinted off the silver combs in her golden-brown hair and the tasteful jewels at her throat and wrists. Her beauty and youth were enhanced by the sophisticated cut of her sapphire dress, which didn’t quite hide her pregnancy. Anna Halloway, his sister-in-law, another new addition to the family.

His head still spun with all the changes. During the years of their separation, he’d given only fleeting consideration to the idea of Seth and Russell starting families of their own. Now Seth had a wife and four kids. Russell was about to become a father for the first time.

Adam recognized the flare of envy and smothered it. He may have grown weary of his solitary life, but he couldn’t entertain thoughts of courtship and marriage—much less pursue them—until Zane Ogden was where he belonged. Rotting in a cell.

Deborah nodded toward the trio. “That’s the lawyer I told you about, Russell Halloway. You should meet him, considering Will is grooming him to take over his job.”

“He’s angling to become mayor?”

“You sound surprised.”

Adam chased the shock from his features. He had to be more circumspect. “Your description of him made it sound like he was devoted to his profession. I’m wondering how he’d be able to juggle the responsibilities to both his clients and Cowboy Creek’s citizens if he were elected.”

“He strikes me as a competent man. I’m certain he’s considered the future and would adjust to the demands.”

The pinch of jealousy that her obvious esteem for his brother produced was both startling and unwelcome. Please God, I must maintain professional objectivity. Your Word promises to give us wisdom if we but ask. I’m not asking. I’m begging.

Tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, he guided her across the room. Russell’s flare of surprise was quickly masked. He moved to his wife’s side while Will Canfield greeted Deborah.

“Good afternoon, Miss Frazier. I can’t tell you how happy I was when I learned you’d be here today.” Dark eyes twinkling, he gripped the silver handle of his walking cane. “I told Tomasina that we could easily meet our goal if we’d auction off your desserts one by one.”

“I was happy to do it.”

When she failed to introduce him, Will prompted, “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, I apologize for not...” Her fingers dug into Adam’s suit sleeve. “This is Adam Draper. He’s new to town and boarding at Aunt Mae’s.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Adam covered her hand and gently squeezed it in a silent bid for her to release her death grip. When she did, he shook hands with the mayor, then answered his queries and, all too soon, was pretending not to know his own brother.

Russell’s act was spot-on. Anna was nervous, however, and he worried she’d slip. Her green eyes were huge pools of curiosity as she placed her hand in his.

“Welcome to Cowboy Creek, Mr. Draper,” she said. “What is your early opinion of our fair town?”

Adam wished their first meeting had been away from prying eyes. Welcoming her to the Halloway family would have to come later. “Very high. I’ve met many kind, interesting people, which helps when making a decision like the one I’m contemplating.”

“Trust me, you can’t go wrong with a town like ours,” Will boasted. “We’ve got a lot to offer a man such as yourself. Opportunities to start or expand businesses abound.”

“There’s also an abundance of marriage-minded ladies.” Russell’s smirk wasn’t lost on Adam. Nor was Deborah’s marked reaction. Beside him, she stiffened.

Another mystery surrounding the spunky brunette. Why would a lady averse to courtship accept a ticket for a bride train?

“I’m currently not in the market for a wife,” he said. “My business requires 100 percent of my energy.”

Russell curved his arm around Anna’s shoulders and sent a significant glance at Deborah. “While I understand your point of view, Mr. Draper, I’d advise you not to overlook the advantages of having a loving partner by your side.”

Anna dipped her head in an effort to hide a smile.

He gritted his teeth, already planning what he’d say to dear Russ the next time they were alone.

Will chuckled. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” His gaze shifted beyond Adam. “Please excuse me. It appears I’m being summoned. Thank you again for coming, Mr. Draper. If you have need of further information regarding the town, feel free to stop by my office. You could also speak to my friends, Daniel Gardner and Noah Burgess. Daniel owns the Gardner Stockyards and Noah owns a ranch outside town. They can give you different perspectives.”

Adam thanked the man. He was about to suggest they move on when Deborah spoke.

“I’ve told Adam about your work with war veterans, Russell. I had a cousin, James, who was injured and ultimately lost his right arm. He struggled for many years to support his family in the same manner as he’d done before the fighting. I’d like to believe if he’d had someone like you to help him, he wouldn’t have lost hope.”

Anna’s lips parted. “What happened to him?”

“He abandoned his wife and children. No one has seen or heard from him for over two years.” She winced. “I suppose that isn’t a subject fitting for a fund-raiser.”

Russell’s eyes were full of understanding. “We don’t fault you for speaking of the realities of war. I’m afraid I’m all too acquainted with the unpleasant ramifications.”

“What about you, Mr. Draper?” Russell inquired with faultless politeness. “Did you serve?”

Sensing Deborah’s keen interest, Adam was careful not to reveal his annoyance. What game was his brother playing?

A denial was forming on his lips when he glanced at Deborah and the vulnerable light in her eyes chased the air from his lungs. Just once, he wanted to tell her something real, something true about himself. “I joined the Union army when I was eighteen.”

A tiny pleat formed between her brows. “You were very young.”

“There were many who were far younger. We were boys masquerading as men, pretending we weren’t frightened out of our minds and longing for our mamas.”

* * *

Deborah forgot about Russell and Anna. The chatter and occasional trill of laughter filling the house faded to a hum. It was as if a veil had slipped from Adam’s face, and she was seeing him for the first time. Lingering anguish swirled in the brown depths of his eyes. She could only imagine what horrors he’d witnessed.

“Did you serve the entire length of the war?”

He nodded. “I’ve since questioned how I managed to survive when so many others weren’t so fortunate.”

“God preserved your life for a reason.”

“Did you suffer any injuries?” Anna’s voice jolted Deborah.

She blushed. They’d completely ignored the other couple.

Adam’s gaze clung to Deborah’s. “Nothing serious.”

Had she imagined the strange flicker in his eyes? Was he being forthcoming? Or perhaps glossing over what he might consider alarming to her and Anna?

The clink of metal against glass was followed by Daniel Gardner’s booming voice welcoming everyone to the fund-raiser. Most days, the stockyard owner favored cowboy gear, but for this occasion he’d donned a nutmeg-brown suit that enhanced his chestnut hair and green eyes. Since he had everyone’s attention, he motioned for Will and Noah to join him at his spot beside the upright piano.

Comfortable with the spotlight, Will joined him without hesitation. The more reclusive Noah had to be encouraged by his wife, Grace, who gave him a kiss on his scarred cheek and a playful shove. That earned them a spurt of laughter as Noah meekly took his position on the other side of Daniel, who promptly began his speech.

“When we set out to build a town in the Kansas prairie, none of us could’ve dreamed what the outcome would be. Thanks to God’s grace, and the wise direction of our mayor, Cowboy Creek has become a wonderful place to live. We’ve benefited from Will’s leadership, and now it’s time to share his time and talents with the nation.” Daniel clasped Will’s shoulder. “Please offer your prayers and support to him as he moves forward with his bid for Congress.”

The fervent applause spoke of the residents’ admiration for their mayor. He kept his speech brief and, after a tear-inducing homage to his wife, Tomasina, urged everyone to mingle and indulge in the refreshments.

Adam steered her away from Russell and Anna and toward the lone man in the nearby corner. Instead of parading him around the room, she would’ve preferred to go off alone and continue their conversation. She was hungry for details.

“Mr. Mitchell?”

The handsome owner of Mitchell Coal & Mining Company lowered his glass and regarded her with barely concealed disapproval. He’d been friendly, even flirtatious when she’d first arrived in Cowboy Creek. But as she’d continued to evade suitors, his manner had cooled toward her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss Frazier?” he drawled.

Reminding herself that his opinion of her didn’t matter, she said, “I’d like for you to meet Aunt Mae’s newest boarder, Adam Draper. Adam, this is Jason Mitchell. He’s in the coal business.”

The men shook hands. “What brings you to Cowboy Creek?” Jason asked.

“I’m looking to buy land and set up a ranching operation.”

Jason snorted. “You’re a few months too late. Anything not owned by me is being snatched up by the Maroni brothers, land speculators from New York—whom I’ve yet to meet, by the way. Want my advice? Take the earliest train out of here.”

His pessimistic attitude grated. “Your attitude stinks, Mr. Mitchell,” she blurted. “Your negativity won’t make Adam’s decision any easier, and it certainly won’t help our community prosper.”

Jason arched a brow. “You’re entitled to your opinion, Miss Frazier, the same as I’m entitled to mine.”

His gaze slid to Adam, and she got the distinct impression he was wondering if things were romantic between them. Stung by his insinuated rebuke, she wished she’d held her tongue. Echoes of the past intruded.

Why can’t you learn to hold your tongue, young lady? No one cares to hear your opinion.

Humiliation zipped along her nerve endings. She’d not only embarrassed herself, but Adam, as well.

Her gaze on the gleaming floor, she mumbled, “Please excuse me. I’m in need of fresh air.”

Intent on escape, she ignored Adam’s soft bid for her to wait.

Chapter Five

“Tea with a splash of milk.” A delicate china cup entered her line of vision, and the tantalizing aroma of Earl Grey tea teased her nose. “And we can’t forget dessert. Mark my word, you’ll be impressed. The two I had were equally satisfying.”

Shifting on the wrought-iron chair, she reluctantly met Adam’s gaze. He’d followed her to this isolated corner of the Gardners’ veranda. The shade bathed them in cool relief. Beyond the railing and roofline, a profusion of tall trees absorbed the unrelenting sun. It was a pleasing vista of varying shades of green and vivid blue, broken by patches of purplish blue wildflowers.

Adam smiled in a gentle, coaxing way, and his dark eyes were kind. She accepted the tea. “Two? Did you sneak another one without telling me?”

He set the dessert plate on the oval side table beside her. Sinking into the chair opposite, he stretched his legs out and hooked one ankle over the other. He adopted an innocent expression. “In Aunt Mae’s kitchen. I couldn’t help myself.”

She took a grateful sip of the fragrant brew. “That’s it. You’re fired.”

“You’re firing me?”

“Why not? I fired myself from being your guide.”

Adam’s brows shot up. “Don’t tell me you’re reneging on our deal. You don’t strike me as a quitter.”

Little ripples marred the hot liquid’s surface as she blew on the tea. “You still want my help? I shouldn’t have reprimanded him for speaking his mind.”

Uncrossing his ankles, he leaned forward. “He could’ve been more subtle. You were upset on my account. You stood up for me and my plans.”

“You’re truly not angry?”

“I’m touched.”

“I confess to being very curious about you.”

He laughed off his initial surprise. “I’m not that interesting.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me about your family. Are both your parents living?”

Sobering, he ran his fingers along the crease in his pant leg. “My mother is alive and well. My father is gone.”

Dangerous emotion swirled in his eyes and, for an instant, she felt the pure force of it directed at her. She blinked, and the moment was gone.

“I—I’m sorry about your father. I’m acquainted with the difficulty of losing a parent. Of course, having a sibling to share in your grief can be beneficial. Where are your brothers now?”

“I’ll be honest, Deborah. I’m a private man. I don’t make a habit of speaking about my family.”

“I see.” The birds’ song didn’t sound quite as cheerful as it had when she’d first sought solace in this out of the way spot.

Adam stood and moved closer. “It’s nothing to do with you,” he said softly.

Deborah plastered on a smile. “You don’t have to explain.”

His astute gaze roamed her features. “Take your time out here. I’m going to have a word with the reverend. Find me when you’re ready, all right?”

“All right.”

She watched him stride the length of the veranda and enter through the side door, then set down her teacup and went to stand at the railing. If there was one thing she’d like to change about herself, even more than her tendency to speak without discretion, it was her sensitive nature. Adam hadn’t been rude or condescending, even though they were recent acquaintances and she’d been poking her nose where it wasn’t welcome.

With a prayer for courage, she joined him in the Gardners’ parlor and resumed her duties. He remained pleasant, but there was a new reserve about him that puzzled her. His stated preference for privacy had only enflamed her curiosity, unfortunately. Why did he not like talking about his family? Had something tragic occurred? Was there a black sheep in the Draper family?

Deborah doubted these questions would ever be answered. He was here alone in Cowboy Creek, so there’d be no fishing for clues among his friends. Disappointed, not to mention confused by her interest in the enigmatic cattleman, she focused on guarding every single word leaving her mouth. To her relief, there were no more mishaps.

When the event had wound down and it was time to gather the soiled dishes, Sadie and Walter waved Adam away to mingle. As soon as he was out of earshot, Walter cornered her.

“What do you know about him?”

“Adam? Very little.”

“Where’s he from?”

“Big Bend, Missouri. Why do you ask?”

“I’m convinced our paths have crossed before, but I can’t pinpoint the particulars. My mind won’t rest until I determine whether or not I’m mistaken.” His brows drew together. “Do you know if he served in the war?”

“He did.”

Walter made a considering noise in his throat, then turned to address Sadie. “You know I dislike unsolved riddles. I will send for the photographs I took during those years.”

Sadie paused in stacking plates. “I’d be happy to help you look through them.”

“It will be a tedious process.”

Admiration brightened her eyes. “To you, maybe, but I’m eager to see more of your work. Besides, any time spent in your company is far from tedious.”

He flashed a rare smile and kissed her hand. “Have I told you lately how delightful I find you, my dear?”

Feeling as if she were intruding, Deborah left them, carrying empty platters through the kitchen and out to the wagon. While she was thrilled that Sadie had found happiness with the photographer, witnessing their devotion highlighted the fact that she was alone, far from home, separated from her sister and her few close friends.

She was returning to the house when something in the grass caught her eye. Moving closer for a better look, she realized it was a porcelain doll. She picked it up and brushed the dirt from its clothes and yellow curls. Judging from its decent condition, it hadn’t been exposed to the elements for very long. Daniel and Leah’s daughter, Evie, was far too young to be toting around a doll, and there hadn’t been any children in attendance this afternoon. But there was a doll missing from Booker & Son’s mercantile.

Deborah ventured farther into the yard, combing the ground for more clues. Were Seth Halloway’s boys telling the truth? Had there been stowaway children on the bride train?

Holding the doll to her chest, she debated what to do. Children roaming the town without supervision were susceptible to all sorts of threats. They’d need shelter, clothing, food and water. The bride train on which the Halloway boys had traveled had arrived two months ago. Only desperation or fear would keep anyone in hiding for that long.

Leaving the doll in its original spot in case the owner came searching for it, she made plans to return that night.

“What are you doing?”

Deborah whirled. “Adam, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here.”

Her apron in his hands, he studied her with unsettling intensity. “I felt bad for abandoning you in the midst of cleanup. Sadie sent me in this direction.”

She considered sharing her suspicions, only to dismiss the notion. He’d probably think her naive. If no one else in town had been able to solve the ongoing mystery of the petty thefts, how was she going to accomplish it?

Perhaps if she knew him better, she could ask him to assist her. They could work on solving the puzzle together, like amateur detectives.

“There wasn’t much to do.” She accepted the apron and put it with the platters. “Your goal was to mingle with the locals and town leaders, anyway. Would you consider the night a success?”

Walking to the house side by side, he nodded. “I enjoyed myself, thanks to you.”

The words sounded forced, his customary charm worn thin.

“I’m happy to hear it.”

At the door, he turned to regard the area from which they’d come. His gaze became hooded, and there was a grim set to his mouth.

For a man in town with a straightforward purpose, he seemed awfully troubled.

* * *

An innocent woman didn’t hide fried chicken legs in her reticule and slink off into the night. Adam trailed her along the side street past the school and onto Lincoln Boulevard. For someone with a hidden agenda, she didn’t bother to check whether or not anyone was aware of her movements. The thought that she could be taking food to Zane Ogden made his stomach churn. Not Deborah, his mind protested. She’s too sweet, too earnest.

Hesitating on the corner across from the Gardners’, where lights blazed in the multitude of windows, she continued at a brisk pace and took a right on Fourth Street. This direction boasted deserted woods that emptied out at the stockyards.

Use your head, Halloway. Don’t be duped by her innocent act.

His training had prepared him to consider a problem’s every angle, from the obvious to the far-fetched. He’d learned not to rule out a suspect based on appearance or behavior. Not all villains wore black and twirled evil mustaches. Some were accommodating and downright likable.

He might not want Deborah to be guilty of aiding a criminal, but in this line of work, disappointments were inevitable.

She stopped short. Adam used overgrown bushes on the street’s edge as a barrier. Glancing around, she entered the copse abutting Daniel’s property. He unsheathed his weapon and entered at a substantial distance behind. His quarry could be closer than he realized.

Moonlight gilded the trees in silvery essence and afforded him a view of her silhouette. The occasional hoot owl shattered the stillness. He avoided the twigs her boots crushed.

“Hello?”

The sudden sound of Deborah’s voice jolted him. Slipping sideways to hunker behind a massive oak, he peered at her through a V in the branches. She removed the bundle of chicken and held it aloft.

“I’ve brought some tasty fried chicken,” she said, turning in a circle. “You can have it, free of charge. I’d hate to leave it for the scavengers to find. Won’t you come out and talk to me?”

Adam’s grip on his weapon went slack. He observed her in mounting confusion. Was this some sort of code? A way for Ogden to know it was safe to emerge from his hideout?

This wasn’t the best place to take refuge from authorities. The Gardners’ mansion was visible from this vantage point, and the nearby street saw a lot of traffic from cowboys traveling between the stockyards and the center of town. Deborah had been studying this area after the fund-raiser and had acted nervous when questioned.

But no one emerged from the shadows to greet her. Her sigh was punctuated by the slump of her shoulders.

“I’d really like to help you.” She left the bundle on a tree stump and retraced her steps.

Adam edged around the trunk, barely breathing, careful to remain out of sight. He expected her to go straight to Aunt Mae’s. Instead, she ventured into the Gardners’ yard, her head bent as she scraped her boot through the grass. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, she hurried along her way.

He let her go, murmuring to himself, “What are you up to, Deborah Frazier?”

* * *

Deborah regarded the town gossips with mounting irritation. She’d approached the two old men the next day in hopes they’d shed light on the stowaway mystery, but their claims contradicted each other.

Gus stroked his full white beard with a gnarled hand. “You’re wrong. Flat out wrong, I tell ya. Those kids weren’t anywhere near the livery. They were sneakin’ around the telegraph office.”

Slouched beside him on the bench outside Booker & Son’s general store, Old Horace puffed on his cheroot and narrowed his rheumy eyes. “You’re losin’ your faculties, man. I remember as plain as day the boy hiding behind the water barrels.”

Deborah clutched her reticule to her chest and shifted to make room for a passing cowboy. “Can you tell me what they looked like? Are they boys? Girls? One of each?”

“Well, now, it was awful dark,” Gus mused. His gaze never ceased moving. The elderly pair made an occupation of surveying the comings and goings of Cowboy Creek’s residents. It was a wonder their names weren’t engraved on the bench where they sat seemingly all day and night.

“Hmm.” Old Horace nodded. “The shadows were long.”

She stifled a sigh. The sights and sounds of afternoon activity enveloped her. Wagons creaked along Eden Street. Horses whinnied. A dog’s bark was thrown into the mix, as were children’s laughter and mothers’ stern warnings to mind their steps. The bell above Booker & Son’s entrance chimed incessantly. Old Horace and Gus must be immune to it.

This had been a fool’s errand, as had last evening’s foray into the woods behind Daniel Gardner’s home. No doubt that chicken had made a tasty meal for the ants.

But the doll was gone, remember? Someone removed it in the hours between the fund-raiser and her late-night visit.

At the sight of the lanky blond man heading straight for her, Deborah was reminded she had other matters to worry about. Real ones, not possibly-made-up sightings of stowaways.

“Thank you for your time, gentlemen.” Squaring her shoulders, she left the boardwalk and met Preston Wells in the shade of The Cattleman. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wells.”

“Surely you agree it’s time to dispense with the formalities, Deborah.” His eyes bore into her, pleading and needy. “You are the epitome of summertime’s best offerings in that dress.”

She pressed a hand to her stomach and strove for a pleasant expression. Inside, she experienced a strange frisson of unease. A telegraph operator, Preston had become fixated on her shortly after her arrival. She’d been kind but firm in her numerous refusals of his overtures. He’d proven persistent, however. He’d even taken to badgering poor Sadie, who had to work with him, about her.

She had no objections to his appearance. In his midtwenties, Preston wore his light hair cut very short, which emphasized his broad forehead—her great-aunt would call it intelligent—and a rather thin nose. His eyes were an interesting shade of gray, however, and he had a nicely shaped mouth. He took pride in his appearance. It was the hint of desperation in his exchanges with her that put her on guard.

“Er, thank you.” She smoothed the ivory skirt printed with green and yellow flowers.

“It flatters your complexion greatly,” he enthused, moving closer than was comfortable. “And your hair...” He was reaching to cup her cheek when Adam entered her peripheral vision.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Adam struck out his hand for Preston to shake.

Thankful for the interruption, Deborah edged out of the way. Preston regarded Adam with a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance.

“Preston Wells. And you are?”

“Adam Draper. I’m staying at the same boardinghouse as Deborah.”

“Pleasure.” His expression said it was anything but. His gaze returned to her. “Would you agree to accompany me for a short stroll? I’m contemplating hosting a small dinner party and perhaps engaging your services.”

“Maybe another time. I have a long list of errands to complete, including picking up a few items for Aunt Mae.”

“Would you believe she asked me to do some shopping for her, as well?” Adam chuckled and produced a folded paper from his pocket. “If you’re going into Booker & Son’s, I’ll join you.”

Preston gave his suit lapels a sharp tug. “I see you’re preoccupied at the moment. I’ll come around the boardinghouse one evening this week.”

Unable to politely decline, she nodded and bid him goodbye. Adam’s light touch against her back was comforting as they entered the mercantile. Navigating the aisles, they found a secluded corner near a window display of gardening instruments.

“Is he one of the men who proposed marriage?” There was a hint of humor in his dark eyes.

“No.”

“But he’s one of the men whose overtures you’ve spurned.”

“Preston is nothing if not persistent.” She made a show of consulting her own list. “What exactly did Aunt Mae send you here for?”

He wiggled his finger. “Uh-uh. You’re not dodging this one. Tell me why you’ve refused to consider any of the interested parties. Were they too young? Too old? Not prone to bathing?”

“They are all decent men.” Deborah inched past him to study ribbons in a variety of colors. “A-and clean.”

“Are you one of those women who has a long list of qualifications a man must meet in order to be considered worthy of your hand?” His breath teased the flower at her ear. Goose bumps raced over her skin.

“What? Of course not.”

“Something is preventing you. What is it?”

Deborah angled her face toward his, startled to find him so close. His nearness didn’t affect her like Preston’s. Instead of wanting to bolt, she yearned to move closer. His shoulders were broad and sturdy, his arms strong and inviting. He’d be a good hugger, she could tell. Someone who would hold her tight and snug for as long as she needed, not pat her awkwardly on the back and shrug free after short moments. Strangely, she was starting to view Adam as someone she could depend on. He radiated honor and goodness. She sensed he was the type of man who’d lay down his life for a stranger’s.

Would it be so terrible to confide in him? Adam would entertain his own conclusions. She’d hate for him to think her snobbish, persnickety or, worse, on the hunt for a rich husband. She could’ve had one of those, if she’d gone through with the nuptials back in St. Louis.

In the end, she chose to tell him a partial truth. “The prospect of marriage is more daunting than I anticipated. To pledge oneself to another forever...it’s a grave undertaking. Not to be taken lightly.”

“You’re not taking it at all, though.” His smile had faded. “Despite having traveled here for the express purpose of landing a husband.”

“Am I not allowed to have a change of heart? O-or lose my nerve?”

“You arrived in your wedding clothes,” he said softly.

“You have the uncanny ability to question me as if I’m on trial. Were you ever a lawyer, Mr. Draper?”

“You revert to formalities when you’re upset with me.” He kneaded the side of his neck. “I apologize for pressing you. It’s none of my business. Although, I will say I understand the locals’ frustration. You’re beautiful, intelligent and talented. Any man with a scrap of sense would make a bid for your attention.”

His praise emboldened her. “You haven’t.”

Adam’s lips parted. His eyes thrummed with emotion quickly squelched. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m not yet in that stage of my life. There are matters that take precedence over any desire to wed and produce heirs.”

“What sort of matters? Your ranches?”

“My ranches...” His brows drew together. “Oh, yes. My business obligations are many.”

“So you’ve never come close to falling in love?”

He fell silent. Deborah felt as though she were swimming in that endless brown gaze as the air between them thinned. Why had she asked such a foolish question?

“Never.”

“Me, either.”

The bell over the door jangled, dispelling the tension. Adam’s attention went to the entrance and immediately the set of his shoulders changed. She shifted to get a better view. Russell Halloway stood just inside the door, his hat in his hands. He nodded and waved, but instead of coming over, he headed for the sales counter.

“I should let you tend to your shopping,” Adam told her. “I’ll see you later.”

Nonplussed, Deborah watched as he strode for the exit. Not even one minute later, Russell left empty-handed.

The two men had met yesterday for the first time. Why then, did she get the feeling she was missing something?

Chapter Six

“Before you read me the riot act, stop and think.” Russell held up a staying hand. “You must agree that I had to ask.”

“You asked me a personal question in front of a suspect,” Adam gritted, the annoyance he’d felt at the fund-raiser rushing to the surface.

“I’m a lawyer who specializes in assisting veterans. It would’ve raised suspicions if I hadn’t asked.” His frown became an unhappy slash in his face. “Wait, did you say suspect? Surely you don’t think Deborah Frazier is capable of consorting with a blackguard like Ogden!”

“Lower your voice.” Adam scanned both sides of the alley behind the mercantile and the street running alongside the church behind them.

“She’s not involved,” Russell insisted, his hazel eyes confident.

“I don’t know enough yet to draw that conclusion.”

“You just rode into town. Anna and I have gotten to know her over the course of the last eight weeks. She’s got a heart of gold.”

That had been his impression, as well. His wish. But the fact was he didn’t truly know her or what she might be capable of.

“Three weeks ago, I was wrapping up a case in Centerville when I got a message from one of my closest colleagues. Dayton’s one of the few people I’ve told about our past. While pursuing a lead in a murder, he heard some cowboys grumbling about losing their jobs because their owners had to up and sell at a moment’s notice. The situation sounded similar to Big Bend’s, so he contacted me. Together, we did some digging and learned that an entrepreneur who called himself Thaddeus Jones had been dispensing loans to the locals.”

“Let me guess,” Russell bit out. “Just like in Big Bend, the locals failed to read the fine print. He charged them high interest rates and put their ranches up as collateral.”

“Exactly. He’d already skipped town by the time I got there, but I did manage to locate the house he’d been renting.” The sharp disappointment he’d experienced filled him anew. He’d walked through the very rooms his nemesis had inhabited with the knowledge he’d been a couple of days too late. “In the living room fireplace, I salvaged a scrap of paper that led me to Cowboy Creek.”

When he explained the significance of the signature, Russell gave him a hooded look. “You suspect Deborah because her name begins with D? Couldn’t it be someone named Diana or Desiree? David? Dustin—”

“I know it’s not much to go on, all right? But the people I interviewed insisted he was in cahoots with a female. The description matches. Young and attractive, dark brown hair, elegant clothes. Unfortunately, she didn’t mingle with the locals. She stuck to Ogden’s side like glue.”

Russell’s gaze followed a buggy as it rolled past the church. He shook his head. “I’m aware of the Pinkertons’ reputation. And you’ve proven yourself a worthy detective, otherwise you would’ve been cut loose a long time ago. But I urge you not to rush judgments on this one. Don’t let your obsession with Ogden make you sloppy.”

“I am not obsessed.”

“Aren’t you? Has a single day gone by these past nine years when you haven’t thought about him? Imagined making him pay for what he did?”

His brother was speaking the truth, and it was difficult to hear. The implication was that Seth and Russ had moved on with their lives, while he’d remained stagnant.

Adam ripped off his Stetson and slapped it against his thigh. His older brother taking him to task hauled him back to his adolescent years. Being the youngest hadn’t set well with him. He’d balked whenever Seth and Russell had tried to boss him around. That was one aspect of leaving he hadn’t minded—people had treated him as his own man, not as the youngest Halloway boy.

“Adam, I’ve seen innocent people punished for crimes they didn’t commit. I’d hate for that to happen in this case.”

He met his brother’s solemn gaze. “Believe me, I’m aware of the pitfalls and am making concessions.”

Russell gripped his shoulder. “I want answers, too. I’ll help you any way I can. Come by for supper tonight. Meet Anna proper-like.”

“I wish I could, but I have to stay close to Deborah.”

“You can spare an hour this afternoon, can’t you?”

“I would like to speak to my new sister-in-law without worrying who’s listening. Three o’clock?”

“I’ll close the office early.”

They said their goodbyes, and Adam headed for the Mitchell Coal & Mining Company. Jason Mitchell welcomed him into his office with polite formality. Waving him into a chair, he resumed his spot behind the desk cluttered with papers.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Draper?”

“I promise not to take up much of your time.” He did a quick inventory of the cramped space. “Based on our brief exchange yesterday, I thought you might have insight into the area’s property shortage. I visited the land office earlier and was met with discouraging news.”

Sinking against the dull leather chair, Jason steepled his hands. “It’s like I told you at the fund-raiser. The Maroni brothers are greedier than most. I’ve been in this business a while. Competition’s normal. Even healthy.” He rubbed at a coffee stain ingrained in the desk. “These men are different.”

“How so?”

“First off, I’ve yet to set eyes on them. Only the land office clerk and the ranchers who’ve done business with them have spoken to them face-to-face.”

Adam wet his lips. Ogden could’ve gotten another accomplice, a man this time. “Maybe they like their privacy.”

“Maybe.” Jason’s eyes hardened. “Or maybe they’ve got something to hide.”

“Don’t they have a temporary office set up? Somewhere to conduct business?”

“They were staying at The Lariat, but I haven’t managed to get a meeting with them.” He sighed and drummed his fingers against the wood. “There have been too many ranchers forced off their land. Not a coincidence, if you ask me.”

Adam adopted an expression of disbelief. “Are you suggesting the Maronis orchestrated accidents to get their hands on land they think is rich with coal?”

“I do.”

“Have you gone to the sheriff with your suspicions?”

He rolled his eyes. “The new sheriff is an incompetent oaf. Folks aren’t happy that the previous sheriff, Buck Hanley, abandoned the job to go into business for himself.”

Adam would have to pay the sheriff a visit and make his own observations. “Not what I wanted to hear, but I thank you for your candor.”

“Cowboy Creek’s a fine place to live, but it won’t support an operation like yours. Not with the hunt for coal. You’ll have better success somewhere else.”

Adam stood. “I’ll take what you’ve said into consideration.”

He was at the door when Jason spoke. “One more word of advice. Don’t bother with the Frazier woman. She’ll lead you on a merry dance.”

* * *

Something was bothering Deborah. She’d offered little to the dinner conversation and left much of her meal on the patterned china plate. Afterward, when everyone had migrated to the parlor, she’d declined offers to join in games in favor of standing at the windows and gazing mutely out at the street.

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