Alice Sharpe - Westin's Wyoming

A scream died on her lips as the shadowy figure looming over her turned into a familiar one.

“Pierce!”

“I thought you were dead,” he said, and then she was in his arms, tears she’d fought for so long running freely down her face.

He held on to her as though she was a mirage and he was afraid if he let go she’d disappear.

And then he was leaning back and she knew he was trying to see her through the dim light and she knew it didn’t matter if they were blurs to each other. In the next instant, he’d pulled her back against him and, cupping her face in his hands, kissed her lips.

His face was rough with stubble and cold from the snow and it felt wonderful against her skin. He felt real, and his kiss was the fabric of fantasy. Happiness welled inside her like an untamed artisanal well, tickling her from the inside out with the delirious feeling of safety she’d thought she’d never again experience.

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This book is dedicated to my daughter-in-law,

Becky Braun, with much love.

Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.

Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 755, Brownsville, OR 97327. SASE for reply is appreciated.

Pierce Westin —When he left the Open Sky Ranch, Pierce was a troublemaker who’d had a falling-out with his father. Fifteen years have gone by and he’s back to mind the homestead for a while and maybe mend more than one kind of fence.

Princess Analise Elsbeth Emille —Raised in the small monarchy of Chatioux, this engaged to be married beauty never questioned her destiny—until now.

General Kaare —The king’s closest advisor and protocol expert, this old soldier is determined to monitor the princess’s behavior and safety whether she likes it or not.

Brad Harley —The princess’s new bodyguard, hired after an attack on the original. Is he part of the solution or part of the problem?

Mr. Vaughn —Traveling with the princess, is he more than the meek little man he seems?

Bierta Gulden —The mousy maid seems content to stay in the princess’s shadow, but that won’t protect her from a killer….

Lucas Garvey —This ranch hand is sworn in to act as a backup bodyguard.

Darrell Cox —Another ranch hand who signs on to help protect Princess Analise—and soon regrets it.

Cody Westin —Pierce’s brother who calls him home to fill in for him. He leaves in such a mysterious hurry that no one on the ranch even knows visitors are expected.

Birch Westin —Pierce and Cody’s father.

Toby (aka Tex) —A little boy who gets a whole lot more Wild West than he ever bargained for.

Jamie Dirk —Two generations of Westin ranchers have depended on Jamie’s knowledge and common sense, but never more than now.

Prologue

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

Epilogue

February

Cody Westin gripped the receiver in his left hand as he sat down at his desk.

“Tell me exactly where you found her,” he said, pausing to listen as the detective rattled off rapid-fire details.

“Yes, I’ll come,” Cody said at length, his dark gaze moving to the big window that overlooked the uncompromising Wyoming peaks. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll leave within the hour. I’ll meet you there.” Brow furrowing, he added, “Smyth? Don’t lose her, okay?”

He clicked off the phone and stood for a moment. Then he walked to the sideboard and poured himself a finger of whiskey, tossing it back in one swallow, closing his eyes as the liquor burned its way down his throat.

His brother Adam, who worked the ranch with Cody and their father, was off on a backcountry hike in Hawaii, unreachable by phone. That meant Cody would need to contact his other brother, Pierce. The detective’s call couldn’t have come at a worse time—the ranch was gearing up for calving season, which was coming in a month or so.

“Family comes first,” he muttered. It was an uneasy point in ranching life. The herd came first, too. Made things a juggling act.

Pierce was half owner of a business currently operating overseas. He could take time off for an emergency if he wanted to. That was the rub. Would he want to?

He had to. Someone had to be in charge since their father was laid up. The place couldn’t run itself.

Clicking nails on the hardwood floor and a wet nose thrust against his arm announced Bonnie had come into the office. Cody ran a hand along the pale yellow Lab’s smooth head, then set the empty glass on the sideboard. Back at the desk he didn’t even bother to review his planner—whatever was on the books for the next few days would just have to happen without him. He had to go. This might be his last chance.

He moved aside the painting of the old hunting lodge that hung behind the desk and worked the combination on the safe hidden under it. Reaching inside, his fingers closed on a small box. He stared at it a moment, then slowly tucked it in his jeans pocket as the dog watched him with deep brown eyes, tail gently wagging.

“You can’t go with me, Bonnie,” he murmured. “Not this time.”

He would pack a bag, drive to Woodwind and catch a plane. Somehow, someway, he had to find the right words, say the right thing, end this nightmare.

But first he’d call Pierce home.

Pierce Westin stared down at the cattle gate for a long time. Was his brain frozen, were aching muscles clouding his vision or had someone cut the chain and wrapped it back around the steel railings to make it appear it was still secure?

He swung himself off his horse, waded through the snow that had backed up against the gate and grabbed the metal with gloved hands. The last links on either end dangled loose when shaken. It had been cut, all right.

Well, maybe the winter policy had changed since he’d lived and worked on the ranch. Maybe it was always kept this way now. He’d only been back a few days—how did he know?

Except the cuts looked new. He studied the snow, both on his side of the gate and on the Bureau of Land Management side where the ranch had grazing rights. He couldn’t see any fresh tracks besides his own.