Debra Cowan - The Cowboy's Reluctant Bride

Something was going on. Gideon just wasn’t sure how threatening it was. Except for the drawing of her bedroom. That weighed on him.

Turning in a slow circle, he examined every angle from the house. Only the barn roof could be seen from here. His gaze slowly swept the line of fence, the lush alfalfa rippling across the pasture. He paused at the thick line of trees running along the back of her place.

After a moment, he realized what bothered him. “I’d like to take a look at the woods in front of your house.”

“All right.”

Retracing their steps, they reached her house several minutes later then cut across the wet yard and out the gate to the road.

She hurried along beside him, her cheeks flushed. “Why are you interested in the woods?”

“None of those drawings showed the rear view of your property.”

Realization flashed across her face. “Except for the one of my bedroom, they were all from the woods bordering the road.”

“Yes, and there might be some sign that someone’s been lying in wait.”

“You mean spying on me then vandalizing my place?”

He nodded.

“They’re watching me?” She sounded more angry than alarmed.

He sneaked a look at her indignant features. If someone were hanging around, heaven help them. The woman had already held him at gunpoint twice for no other reason than just showing up.

They crossed the muddy road onto the soggy grass and reached the edge of the south woods.

“Has the railroad ever talked about coming through here?” he asked.

“Oh, they’ve been talking about it for years, but it hasn’t happened. Besides, if there were plans for a railroad, everybody would be chattering about it.”

She had a point.

As he reached the edge of the trees, she caught up to him.

“Do you really think you’ll find anything in there?”

“I don’t know.” He was checking anyway. He’d promised Smith.

“The rain will have washed away any footprints,” Ivy said.

“True, but there might be other signs that someone has been around.”

“Like what?”

“The remains of a fire, maybe, or a shelter or something.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’m coming, too.”

When he hesitated, she said, “Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

“Okay.” He led the way into the dark denseness. Thick branches still dripped with rain, and wet pine needles slid beneath his feet.

After several minutes of walking through the damp air, Gideon had found no sign of anything except rain. He wanted to find the spot that would give him the view shown in those drawings.

Looking over his shoulder, he could see daylight through the wall of trees at his back. “What’s beyond here?”

“More pasture.”

He watched as she began walking into the wooded area that faced her house. Ahead of her, between the trees and bushes, he saw a wedge of light.

He followed. At times he would see her white frame home, then it would vanish as if the branches closed up. A trick of the shadows, he realized.

As he came within a foot of Ivy, he could clearly see her house through two stubby pines. Without warning, she stopped cold. To keep from running her over, he clamped his hands on her waist. She jumped, unbalancing them both for a second. He steadied them then released her.

“Look,” she breathed, pointing at something in front of her.

He dragged his attention from the taut curve of her waist and followed her gaze to the patch of ground she indicated.

Sunlight filtered through the thickness of the trees, falling on a blackened pile of sticks. Gideon stepped around her and knelt over the remains of a campfire.

“Someone’s been here.” He touched the soggy wood. Because of all the rain, he couldn’t tell how recently.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” She moved closer, her skirts brushing his arm.

He stood. “If it’s the person causing trouble, yes.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at the forest surrounding them. “Do you think someone is here right now?” she asked in a low voice.

He glanced down, seeing a flare of alarm in her eyes. She hid it well, but she was worried. He wanted to reassure her, which made him snort. He was hardly made for that.

Still, he tried. “It’s so quiet that I think we would hear if anyone else was nearby, and I haven’t heard anything.”

She nodded, but her gaze darted around.

He focused again on the slant of light through the trees and stepped to the left, completely concealed behind a thick pine. From here, he could see Ivy’s house clearly. Everything, including the barn, the corral, the road leading to her home. Just like the drawings.

It was a perfect spot to observe the farm and matched the view of the illustrations.

Nerves taut with the same instinct that had kept him alive in prison, Gideon studied the ground then bent to pick up a broken pine branch. With his boot, he cleared a spot on the soft ground then laid the branch next to the tree where they stood.

“What are you doing?”

“If someone does come back, they’ll likely build a fire here again.” He anchored the wood on either end with small rocks. “Not only because it’s a perfect place to watch your house, but also because I doubt they’ll risk marking another spot.”

He checked the other side of the tree, pleased to discover the Powell farm wasn’t visible from there. “When they get in place, they’ll break the twig.”

“That’s smart,” she murmured, “but an animal could break it.”

“Yeah, but if a person does it, there will be some other sign of that. A boot print, marks on the tree maybe.”

“That means you’re going to have to check here every day.”

“Right.”

“We can take turns.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I can help.”

“Miss Ivy, your brother sent me here to do this job.”

“I’m helping,” she said baldly.

She might look softer than velvet and be a whole lot prettier than Smith, but she probably had every bit as much grit as her brother. And she might need it.

The dead horse and the campfire remains proved someone had been here. To frighten Ivy? Or for something worse?

Gideon had to find out. Which meant he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how badly Ivy might want him to.

Chapter Two

Gideon Black’s face had gone from blank to grim upon seeing the remains of that campfire.

By the time they sat down to lunch, Ivy was impressed with the man, though she didn’t want to be. For whatever reason, she hadn’t thought to look in the woods for signs of the person causing her trouble.

Maybe because she was so tired. She’d barely slept last night for replaying the night of Tom’s death over and over. She’d managed to stop the memory, but not the guilt. As a result, she had slept poorly, and she couldn’t blame that on her guest.

Gideon gestured to the platter of ham and corn bread. “This is good.”

“Thank you.” Sitting across from him, her skin felt prickly.

And hot.

The man was the size of a mountain. He dominated the space, making even the table that could seat ten people look small. His face, rugged and strong, was weathered by the sun and life. Grooves cut on either side of his mouth hinted that he must’ve smiled a lot at one time. She’d seen no evidence of it.

Using the cloth napkin she’d laid next to his plate, he wiped his lips then took a sip of coffee. “When does your contract with the mayor end?”

So he was still trying to figure out why someone might want to cause trouble for her. “In a year.”

“Is there anyone who might want that?”

“Not to my knowledge.” She sighed. “The mayor will have to be told about the horse. I’ll need to drive into Paladin.”