Love on the Range (Brothers in Arms #3)(34)

“I’ll ride out tonight.” Rachel stood from the table. “I’ll gather a few things to take. Are you sure the town on past Casper is far enough?”

“It’s White Rock Station. It’s off the train route, but it has a telegraph office,” Cheyenne said.

“Cheyenne and I will ride along,” Falcon added.

Kevin and Win didn’t argue. No one liked it, but Rachel was determined and had said so loud and clear. She’d planned to go alone.

“The whole idea is for no one to notice anything going on. No one even knows I’m here, so they won’t miss me. No one knows me in any town around here, so no reason my wire will draw attention. If I’m with a group, it changes everything.”

“You can’t ride in the night alone. It ain’t safe,” Falcon said.

“I rode out here alone.”

Narrowing his eyes, Falcon said, “That don’t mean you should’ve.”

“Rachel, I agree with Falcon,” Cheyenne said. “And not because I doubt you’re tough, but we really need you to make it, and we need you to get back here. When Wyatt gets evidence against Hawkins, unless he just shoots him or drags him to the sheriff, we need someone who knows the details of your investigation and how you’ve tied him to the deaths of three women. We can explain it, but Sheriff Corly isn’t likely to take our secondhand account of things. We need you here.”

“Didn’t you take off alone in the wilderness a few weeks ago?” Rachel arched a brow at Cheyenne. “And apparently Wyatt didn’t think twice about it except regretting you were upset.”

“That’s different.”

Shaking her head, Rachel said, “That’s the same.”

“Kevin, just tell Rubin I’ve gone back to my cabin with Falcon.” Cheyenne looked at Rachel. “But I can’t be gone one minute more than necessary. We’ll ride out as soon as the ranch settles for the night.”

“You’ll reach White Rock by morning,” Win said. “Then send the wire and turn around and ride back. It’ll be after dark by the time you get home. One day. Rachel shouldn’t be gone a minute longer than necessary, either. And if you’ve got a letter to write, you’d better write it now.”



The man listened at the window, noting every detail. Then he slipped away and got a message sent as he’d been instructed.

They thought their trip would be made in secret. They thought that stranger hiding in their house was still a secret. But he knew everything, and so did the man who was paying him.



Finally, Molly set her lantern in the window, her signal for Wyatt to come, and he hurried across the shadows on the snow-covered yard and climbed in through Molly’s window.

After his first night examining the account books, and after the way Hawkins had tried to get Molly to come to his room, Wyatt came over every night as soon as the lights went out.

He wasn’t leaving Molly alone in that house—it was hard enough in the daytime but impossible at night.

He couldn’t search every night. It was too exhausting, considering the long, hard days he was working, trying to clean up the horrible mess around the ranch. But he came over and slept.

The ridiculous house was so large, he could’ve taken over the whole third floor, half the second, and the cellar if he’d wanted. Hawkins never went in most of the house. But Wyatt picked a place close to Molly. He’d picked a pantry near Molly’s rooms, laid a pallet of blankets on the floor, and slept in there.

She greeted him at the window in her ridiculous robe-nightgown-dress getup. She looked to weigh about twenty pounds more than usual, and he wanted to tell her how cute she was, all properly bound into three layers of clothes.

He didn’t because tonight she had news.

“I found a loose floorboard in Mr. Hawkins’s bedroom when he went out riding today. I’m sure there’s something strange about it, but I couldn’t get it lifted out. I’m afraid to take time to work on opening it when he’s here, even if he’s in his study. He’s so aware of where I am all the time, and he tends to come and ask me questions. I’m being extra careful not to be in his bedroom when he comes around.”

Wyatt’s jaw went tight to think of a fine woman like Molly having to put up with such unpleasant behavior. And unpleasant described it only if Hawkins wasn’t something far worse than unpleasant.

Wyatt couldn’t figure out a way to be in the house during the day. He had a few excuses lined up, things to talk to Hawkins about, but he needed to save them for when Molly needed time to get into the safe. But maybe . . . “The men say he rides out quite often.”

“He’s done it a few times since I’ve been here. Now that I’ve found the floorboard, I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait until he goes out again.”

Thankful their whispered conversation was covered by the distant sound of Hawkins’s snoring, Wyatt said, “We’ll be patient, then. I wasn’t around when he saddled up and left, so I didn’t know about it and didn’t come in to help.”

“You couldn’t come in anyway, the men would talk.”

“I don’t care about gossip.”

“You would if they told Mr. Hawkins.”

“They have nothing to do with the man.” Wyatt hesitated. “One of them saddled his horse today. So maybe you’re right.”