Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (37 page)

She tethered Banner to the rail and hobbled up the porch stairs. That’s what she got for spending too many hours in the office lately and not enough in the saddle. Christy must be tired, with Martha and Joe gone and Toby’s care falling on her most of the day. The house seemed quiet, but maybe they were cuddled on the sofa with a book.

She pushed open the door and slipped inside. “Christy? You downstairs?”

A small cry sounded from the parlor and drew Alex forward. She stepped into the doorway and stopped. Christy struggled to push herself from the sofa, a protective arm wrapped around her ribs. A look of pain flashed across her face, but she pressed her knuckles into the fabric and came to her feet. “Alex. You’ve got to stop him.”

Alex hurried toward the panting young woman and gripped her arm. “Whoa there. You’ve hurt yourself again. Sit back down and tell me what’s wrong.”

Christy shrugged off her hand and shook her head. “No. I won’t sit down until you listen. He came and took Toby. You’ve got to stop him.” Her shoulders shook and tears flooded her eyes. Wrenching sobs erupted from her lips and she covered her face with her hands.

Alex felt as though she’d been struck, but she had no idea which direction the blow came from. “Get hold of yourself and explain. Who took Toby, and where? Did Justin come back and take Toby away? Is that what you mean?” She grabbed the sobbing woman’s arm and squeezed. “Stop it, Christy! Talk to me.”

Christy sank onto the sofa and turned tear-drenched eyes up to Alex. “No, not Justin. It was Dick Sanders. He came a couple of hours ago. Said you had to marry him or you’d never see Toby again. He pushed me against a table, grabbed Toby, and left.” The sobs turned to cries and she buried her face in her arms. “I’m so sorry. If I’d never come, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Alex stared at the bent head, trying to make sense of Christy’s words. Who in the world was Dick Sanders and why would he demand that she marry him? “Stop crying and make sense. Who is Dick Sanders?”

“He said to tell you that Carter Foster stopped by to extend his offer again, and that you’d know what he meant.”

“Carter Foster?
Carter
took Toby?” Alex’s head whirled. “He’s proposed to me twice, and I’ve turned him down. But what would he want with Toby?”

“He says he’s Toby’s father. Molly knew him before she met Justin, and Sanders—Carter—whatever his name is—promised to marry her but left. I guess he’s kept an eye on Toby ever since. But he doesn’t care about him. He’s the one who sent me here and told me to lie about Justin.” She stared at Alex with wide eyes. “I think he’s been after your ranch the whole time and is using Toby to scare you.”

Alex sank onto the edge of a nearby chair. “You said Justin hasn’t come in yet. How about Uncle Joe or any of the other hands?”

Christy shook her head. “No. I’ve been alone all day except for Toby.” Tears started again at the mention of the little boy. “What can we do?” She swiped at a tear with the back of her hand.

“I’m guessing he’s gone to his ranch. He won’t leave all that behind. But why take the chance of grabbing Toby? He’s got to know the sheriff would arrest him, and I’m certainly not going to marry him.”

“Sanders said he’s Toby’s father and has a right to take him. I guess he thinks the law won’t touch him.”

Alex pushed to her feet. “I’m going after them. Carter was angry when I turned him down at the church picnic, but maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

Christy reached out and gripped Alex’s hand. “Get the sheriff, or wait for Justin. Don’t go over there alone. Please? You don’t know him.” She shivered and dropped Alex’s hand, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “He’s killed men—shot them in the back. I’d never trust him with a woman.”

“All the more reason I can’t wait for help. Toby’s alone with him, and for all we know, the man’s mad. If he’s as dangerous as you say, I won’t take a chance with Toby’s life.” She spun on her heel and headed for the door. “I promise I won’t go into the house without help, and if there’s a problem, I’ll go after the sheriff. Let Justin know when he gets home.”

Alex swung into her saddle and laid her spurs into Banner’s sides. The tired horse surged forward and swung into a canter, his hooves sending gravel and chucks of dried dirt flying. A sense of urgency leaned her forward over her horse’s neck, her hands gripping the reins and her feet firm in the stirrups. Banner seemed to sense her mood and increased his gait from a rolling canter to a full gallop. He dodged manzanita brush and jumped a shallow wash, his breathing steady and ears pricked forward, intent on his mission. Alex pulled him down as he started up the hillside leading to the ridge. He’d worked hard today and the last thing she needed was a lame horse.

If only Justin or Uncle Joe had been home when Carter had visited the ranch. But chances were he’d been watching and knew that Christy and Toby were alone.

She still couldn’t comprehend that Toby could be Carter’s son. Justin never once hinted that he wasn’t the boy’s father. What did Carter hope to gain? Could he possibly care for the boy? It didn’t seem possible he’d be so desperate to marry her that he’d stoop to kidnapping. The ranch had value, but with the loss of some of her stock and her father’s gold never having been found…

She sat back so hard that she threw Banner off balance and nearly brought him to a halt. “Sorry, boy. Come on—let’s go.” A nudge with her heel sent him forward at a hard trot, and she returned to her startling thoughts. She’d nearly forgotten that her father had found gold not long before he’d died. He must have meant the loan to be short-term—until he’d staked a claim and developed his mine. Carter must have known about the gold. The words of her father’s letter returned. Papa had heard someone outside his window when he’d talked to Uncle Joe about the gold. There didn’t seem any other logical reason the man would pursue his suit. Would he stoop so low as to steal her horses and try to throw the blame on Justin?

She suddenly remembered Christy’s words. Carter—or Sanders, as she called him—was responsible for the deaths of others. Horse theft would be nothing to a man like him. Her stomach clenched and fear rose in her throat, but she pushed it down. No time for that—Toby’s safety must come first.

Banner snorted and slowed at the fork in the trail, and she swung him away from town. Carter’s ranch lay another mile away, its nearest line touching the edge of her property. They traveled at a fast trot as the sun sank in the sky. She approached a dense thicket of mixed cedar and pine and hesitated. Just beyond this grove lay Carter’s ranch house. She clucked to Banner and urged him forward, renewed determination pushing her on. A low-hanging branch slapped her cheek, and she felt a welt begin to rise. A quick pull at the reins brought her horse to a slow walk, and she ducked under another limb.

“That’ll be about far enough.” The words were barked in a short, staccato growl somewhere off to the right. “I’ve got a gun trained on your back and my finger’s jest itchin’ to pull the trigger. Name yer business and make it quick.”

“Alex Travers. I’ve come to see Carter Foster.”

“Ha. Mouse and me had bets on whether you’d show up. Looks like I win.” A figure stepped out of the heavy brush with a rifle balanced on his arm, its muzzle pointed at her. “Get off yer horse.” He motioned with his gun. “Now.”

She slid to the ground and flipped the reins over Banner’s head.

He emitted a grunt. “You walk ahead of me, missy, and don’t try nothin’. I got orders to bring you in, but the boss didn’t say nothin’ about what kinda shape you had to be in.”

Alex moved forward and heard a branch break behind her. A rough hand snatched the reins out of her grasp and the butt of the rifle prodded the middle of her back.

“Get movin’. The boss is tired of listenin’ to that screaming brat, and he’s in a foul mood. You’d best be able to shut the kid up, if you want him to see his next birthday.”

Justin lashed his stallion’s flanks with the end of his rawhide reins, pushing the horse to extend his stride and dig his hooves into the hard-packed trail. Christy’s account of the past few hours had planted a knot in his chest that wouldn’t unfurl. Toby’s abduction by Carter Foster, coupled with Alexia’s rash decision to ride off without help, roused both fury and fear. The thought of losing Toby terrified him. He loved that boy and couldn’t stomach the thought of harm coming to him. Alexia’s promise to wait for help and not approach Foster alone offered slight reassurance. Hopefully she’d headed for the sheriff when help hadn’t arrived soon.

As he guided Durango around brush and under branches that threatened to tear the skin from his face, he shot up a prayer for safety, wisdom, and guidance. Only God knew the reasoning behind Carter Foster’s actions. Somehow he had to trust the Lord to guide them through the pitfalls ahead.

Gratitude welled in his heart toward Frank. He’d wondered over the last few weeks if the man was part of the horse-theft ring plaguing Alexia’s ranch, but today that fear proved unfounded. Frank had overheard Davis and his old pard, Tim, talking at the saloon. Davis had had too much to drink and was boasting about the theft of Alexia’s horses. After relaying the news to Justin, Frank returned to town with orders for Sheriff Ramsey to corral Davis and then head to Foster’s place.

Justin gritted his teeth and tightened his legs against the stallion’s sides. The big horse hadn’t started breathing heavily yet and seemed anxious to move. He’d not hold him in this time. The rocks and brush flew past as the horse lengthened his magnificent stride and settled into a steady run. Justin leaned forward over his neck and ran a hand under the length of his mane. “Come on, boy, you’re racing for Toby and Alex. Keep it up; we’ll be there soon.” Seconds turned into minutes and Justin trained his thoughts on the coming confrontation, continuing to pray for protection.

Lights glinted through the heavy trees and he reined Durango back to a walk then drew to a halt when he neared the edge of cover.

A pressing desire to launch himself through Foster’s front door drove him forward. He reached the final row of mixed pine and cedar and stopped, breathing deep. What would he accomplish if he kicked in the door? Judging from what Frank had overheard Davis saying, his boss was ruthless and not above putting a bullet in his enemy’s back. Justin didn’t lack confidence in his ability to face a man with a gun, but the odds of coming out unscathed in the dark—and against several armed men—weren’t good.

No. Better grit his teeth and wait for backup. No sense in getting killed and leaving Toby an orphan. Or worse yet, leaving Toby at the mercy of the murderous thief who claimed to be his father. He’d expect Foster to have a guard posted outside the trees. He swung off his mount and looped the reins around a low-hanging branch back in the shadows.

Silence settled in a deep hush over Justin’s hiding place, igniting his memories. All these years he’d built a wall around his heart because Molly had betrayed him. He’d judged all women alike and determined he’d not trust any. Alexia had broken through his rigid barrier. Her forthright personality had drawn him from the first, as had her beauty, but he’d learned from experience that those could be false. Her work ethic rivaled that of most hardworking men, and her love for her family equaled any he’d known. But the crowning point came when he saw her surrender to the Lord and her affection for his son. The patience and kindness woven through her actions drew him like a bee to a newly opened flower.

Her voice, her smile, her intelligence—all the things he’d come to appreciate over the past few weeks—had woven themselves into the fabric of his being, fostering an intense love and a deep longing. Losing her wasn’t an option.

Nor was losing Toby. A fierce protectiveness lashed at him, and he nearly bolted out of the trees to rush the cabin. He couldn’t lose his son. He sat back down with a groan, knowing he had to wait for help. Memories of Toby as a baby flew through his mind—his first smile, his first steps, the first time the little tyke said “Papa.” Toby had made up for all the love he’d wanted and hadn’t received from Molly.

If Sheriff Ramsey didn’t arrive in the next few minutes, he’d go in alone. Frustration at the delay pushed him to his feet.