Kisses With KC (Cowboys and Angels Book 11)(3)

His finger ripped through the side and unfolded the paper.

Pinkerton Detective Agency

To Whom It May Concern,

I live on a homestead just outside of Creede, Colorado, toward Lake City. Strange things are happening. People are leaving their homesteads—they just up and leave without warning.

KC stopped reading and looked at the angel. Neither spoke for a moment, then KC said, “Homesteading is hard. It’s not unusual for someone to leave instead of doing what it takes to prove up on the land.”

“Keep reading.”

After they’re gone, their homesteads are purchased, but no one moves onto them. This doesn’t seem right. I believe there might be something sinister happening. Please send an agent to help.

Signed,

E. Turley

KC folded the letter in half and looked at the angel. “That’s not much to go on.”

The angel nodded. “It’s enough—E. Turley, between Creede and Lake City, homesteaders. You’ve got a hearing to attend, then you’d best get yourself on over there.” With those words, the angel faded from view.

KC thought he’d seen some strange sights in his work, but nothing compared to having a man and his donkey vanish before his eyes.

He stuck around Del Norte the next day for the hearing just like the angel said, then he went on into Creede, arriving at sundown. He rode up and down the main street and the two streets on each side of it to get the feel of the land as the sky darkened. It looked like most mining towns, he supposed—a little lawless and rough.

Finally, he took the road in front of the train station west toward Lake City. He’d take a look around tonight then do some asking tomorrow. Even as his horse plodded along, he thought of the letter and the guardian angel. It seemed like a lot of trouble to go through for a handful of empty homesteads.

He wondered what trouble might look like for the homesteaders. To his surprise, he saw a lone rider on a horse near a well-appointed cabin. The rider had a spyglass pointed toward the home. That wasn’t exactly sinister, but it wasn’t ordinary either. A little spark of suspicion flared in his gut. He figured it was probably nothing, but he’d see. He tied his horse in the trees off the side of the road to take a closer look.

He stuck close to the trees whenever he could, then slid along next to the barn wall. When he looked around the corner, the horse and rider were only a few steps away. The door to the cabin opened a crack, but no one came out. The man put the spyglass into a bag that hung over the saddle horn. A rifle was in a scabbard beside it. KC reasoned that if this wasn’t trouble, the rifle would stay holstered, and the rider would leave, but if it was trouble, then that man would pull the rifle out.

Though he hoped for the first, he was ready for the second. At that moment, the rider’s hand reached for the rifle. KC sprang forward, knocking the rider from the saddle. In the tumble from the horse, KC landed on top of him. The man’s arms flailed out to the side. He pinned them. He continued forward with the momentum, unable to stop, his head coming to rest within an inch of—hers! The hat had fallen away, and wavy auburn hair splayed in the weeds around her head. He was grateful for the full moon that illuminated the angelic face.

“Get off me,” she said and bucked her hips.

Stunned at the bright eyes looking at him and the playful sprinkling of freckles, he hadn’t thought to roll off her. KC’s hand slipped from holding him up, and his lips brushed hers.

In the distance, the braying of a donkey split the silence of the night—a sound suspiciously like hysterical laughing.

“Who are you?” she asked at the same time he said, “Why are you here?”

“I live here. You’re the one trespassing.” She planted her hands firmly on his chest. “Get off me.” She shoved.

He rolled away and stood. When he reached to help her up, she slapped his hands out of the way and scrambled up, brushing off the seat of her trousers. Then she wrapped her hair in a twist, weeds and all, and stuffed it back into the cowboy hat.

KC watched with rapt attention. Was the woman completely unaware of her appeal? And in pants? He had to clear his throat and concentrate to banish the admiration rising in his thoughts.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, her hands fisted on her hips.

He thought she was of an age to be married, but his heart interrupted, saying he hoped she wasn’t. What was he doing? People died just being around his kind of work. He was on an assignment—of sorts. He knew he needed to leave—get out—stop looking at her eyes.

KC removed his hat and pushed his hand through his hair, then placed the hat back on. “I thought there might be someone planning a crime when I saw that spyglass held toward the house.”

Her face softened. “Thank you for looking out for my family. It might have looked bad since you didn’t know I belong here.”

“Will you tell me your name?”

She was shaking her head even before he finished the question.

He didn’t know what came over him—well, he did. Her. But he wanted her to stay and talk to him. “I thought we might be as good as introduced since we—”

“We did not kiss,” she interrupted.

Again, the donkey brayed. KC was going to have to find a way to keep that donkey out of his business.

“I was going to say, ‘Since we were both trying to protect your family.’” He chuckled. He hadn’t thought to talk about the kiss, but he was glad she thought about it. Now, he was sure to think about it.