Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (22 page)

Justin swung a leg under him and pushed to one knee. “That headstone.” He pointed to a large white stone a few feet away. “That who I think it is? It says E. Allen Grosh. Would that be the man who first discovered the Comstock Lode but didn’t live to claim it?”

She shook herself, trying to keep up with the swift change of topic. “Yes. Ethan Allen Grosh. He died here in Last Chance.”

“How’d he get so far from his gold claim?”

“Papa told me the story—he heard it from folks who knew Mr. Grosh. It seems he was on his way to San Francisco in hopes of raising money to fund his mining operation. His brother had died a few weeks before, and Grosh got a late start leaving the mountains. He and his partner, Buck, got caught in a bad snowstorm and were lost for days.”

Justin looked at the tombstone with interest. “They found their way here, then?”

She shook her head. “No. They wandered for days without food, after having to eat their donkey. Frostbite set in and they’d given up, lain down, and figured they’d die. Some miners found them and built a sled of sorts then dragged them into town. They had to cut off Buck’s leg and part of one foot, but they couldn’t save Grosh.”

“What happened to the silver he found?”

She raised her eyes to the faraway hills. “Buck said Grosh stashed the ore samples and the map to the claim in a leather pouch at the stump of a fallen tree and marked it with a cross, but no one ever found it. Papa heard that Grosh left a man named Comstock to watch over his cabin. Two years later Comstock found a large vein of silver not far up the hill from Grosh’s cabin and struck it rich.”

“Huh. Poor Grosh.”

“Papa said some men aren’t meant to have treasure; it ruins their lives and poisons them against God. But it’s sad that Grosh died and never had a chance.” She leaned back and wrapped her arms around her knees. A longing to blurt out the secret of her father’s find before his death caused her to open her mouth, but she snapped it shut again. Martha and Parson Moser had counseled her to pray and trust God, but what about trusting Justin? Maybe that should be a matter of prayer, as well.

“It is, at that.” Justin rose to his feet and brushed his hat against his legs, removing the pine needles and bits of dirt. “I’d best be getting back. I hate taking advantage of Martha’s kindness.”

Alex put a hand against the tree and started to rise. “Martha’s in her element. She loves caring for Toby—it brightens her day and livens up the house.”

Justin extended his hand and Alex grasped it. A tingle started in her fingers, shot up her arm, and warmed her chest. She wanted to drop his hand and run, but Justin didn’t loosen his hold for several seconds. He looked down into her eyes. “Alex…”

She met his gaze. “Yes?”

He released her hand and took a step back, clearing his throat. “I’d best go. Thanks for letting me sit with you a spell.” He swung away and covered the distance to the bottom of the hill in a few long strides.

Alex stood with her hands clasped. Was she the only one who’d felt something when their hands met? What had he almost said?

She needed to talk to someone about Justin Phillips, and she knew just the person.

A peek through the window showed the figure of Carl Ramsey moving about, so Alex pushed open the door. “Sheriff? Mind if I come in?”

Ramsey finished placing a long-barreled rifle up on the rack next to the door then turned a smiling face her way. “Alex. It’s good to see you. Come in, come in.”

“Thank you.”

“Just gettin’ back from church, are you?” He waved to the chair in front of his desk and took his own.

“Yes, but I took a walk up to the cemetery afterward.”

“Ah. It’s a nice place to visit when you need to think. Peaceful.” He cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow. “Missin’ your pa a powerful lot, I reckon?”

Sudden tears sprang to Alex’s eyes but she batted them away. As much as she missed her father, she hadn’t come to discuss him. “Yes. But I hoped to ask you some questions.”

He leaned back and folded his arms. “Sure. Go right ahead.”

“You remember the man Ralph tackled at the church? He had a wagon and a little boy.”

“Uh-huh. Sure do. Justin Phillips.”

“You’ve seen him since then?”

“Yes, ma’am, I have.”

Alex rested her hat on her lap. “I hired him. Now I’m wondering if I made the right decision.”

“You havin’ a problem with him?”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just wondering—Ralph thought he resembled a man on a Wanted poster, and I wondered—

“—if Phillips might be that man or might be on another poster?” Ramsey stretched his legs out to the side of his desk.

She met his direct gaze. “Yes.”

“You got a reason to be worryin’ about him, do you?”

She shook her head. “I’d like to think I don’t. When I first met him, I didn’t question his story. And of course, his having a child and all…” She shrugged.

“Now you think he might be a thief—or worse?”

“Well, not really. But after some of the things that’ve happened lately, I’m not sure what to think. He’s a wonderful father, and he’s been a big help at the ranch, so I feel guilty even asking. But now that I’m in charge, I need to make certain I’ve not hired someone who’s running from the law.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Somethin’ happenin’ I need to be aware of, Alex?”

“Some horses disappeared the day Justin arrived on the ranch. We never recovered them. A few days later a fence was cut. Carter Foster had some of his men drive my horses back on my land and fix the fence.”

“Ah-huh. Well, some of your land isn’t fenced at all. I s’pose that first group could’a wandered off from the main herd and disappeared in the mountains for a spell, but it don’t sound good.”

“If it weren’t for Ralph’s accusation about the Wanted poster, the rest might not have bothered me. Justin showing up the day my horses disappeared worried me a little, but I’ve not had any complaints since hiring him.”

“I’ll tell you this much. Justin spoke to me and gave me the same details about the horses. To my knowledge he’s not wanted anywhere.” Alex started to interrupt, but he held up his hand. “It’s good that you’re bein’ cautious. I’m not worried about Phillips being a horse thief, but it pays to go slow sometimes. How ’bout I look into his background and get back to you?”

She fingered the brim of her hat then placed it on her head and rose. “Thank you. That’s more than I’d hoped for. I’ll take him at face value until I hear different from you.”

Sheriff Ramsey stood and escorted her to the door. “Glad to help. Come by any time. And Alex?”

She turned and looked up into his serious eyes.

He stood with his hand braced against the open door frame. “You be careful. I don’t think this is a case of someone playin’ a prank. Listen to Joe and keep your eyes open. I’ll do the same.”

The sound of hoofbeats an hour before supper drew Alex out to the porch. She groaned.
Carter
. She’d pushed his request to come calling to the back of her mind. She knew she had no choice—she’d have to ask him to supper. Spinning on her heel, Alex hurried to the kitchen. “Martha? Can you set one more plate?”

Martha shut the door to the wood cookstove and raised a flushed face. “You know I always fix plenty. Who’s coming?”

“Carter Foster is riding up the lane.”

“What’s that man want now?” She planted her hands on her hips and huffed.

Alex sighed and leaned against the cream-colored pantry standing near the washbasin. “I saw him in town awhile back, and he asked if he could call.”

Martha’s eyebrows shot high on her forehead. “Well, I declare. I was right. He’s wantin’ to court you.”

Alex rolled her eyes and smiled. “Don’t get all fired up, Martha. I’ll turn him down if he wants to come again.”

Martha cocked her head. “Joe’s gone for the evening, so you may want to make sure Justin and Toby sit down to the table. The boy likes to take his meals outside with his papa sometimes. Might do you well not to be alone with Carter or to let him stay long after supper.”

“Carter’s a gentleman, and I’m not worried about appearances. But I guess you’re right—it might be better to have more people here. I don’t want to encourage him by spending time alone.” Alex gave Martha a quick hug and headed for the door. “I’d best see what’s holding him up. I thought he’d be at the door by now.”

Justin swung around at the clatter of hoofbeats approaching the open barn door. Joe had ridden out to check on Frank and the mares around mid-afternoon and didn’t plan on arriving home until sundown. The older man’s joy at being in the saddle again, even for one short afternoon, touched Justin. He couldn’t imagine the misery he’d feel if he lost the ability to ride.

Carter Foster reined to a stop and swung down from his saddle. “I’ve come to call on Miss Travers. See that my horse gets a good rubdown and a bag of grain.” He thrust the reins toward Justin.

Justin took a step back and folded his arms. “I’ve got work to see to.” He nodded toward the nearest stall, just inside the gaping doors. “Help yourself.” The last thing he cared to do was coddle Foster or his horse. The man wasn’t helpless—or his employer.

Carter’s laugh was more like a snort. He reached out a hand and tapped Justin on the chest. “You need to remember your place, cowboy. You’re Miss Travers’s hired hand, not the owner of this place. I happen to be courting her, and if I ask you to care for my horse, it’s your job to do so.”

“Justin? Carter?” Alex’s voice pierced the tension. “What’s going on?” She stepped forward and looked from one to the other. “Carter, I heard you ride up and thought you’d be at the house by now.”

Carter’s hand fell to his side and a smile melted the hard angles of his face. “Your wrangler was just offering to stable my horse.” He tipped his hat at Justin and held out the reins. “Much obliged, Phillips.”

Justin hesitated then took the proffered reins. “No problem.” He nodded at Alex and started into the barn, but her voice halted him two steps later.

“Be sure to bring Toby to supper tonight. Mr. Foster will be joining us, and I’m sure he’d enjoy meeting your son.”

Justin slowly swung around and his gaze lit on Foster. A strange look passed over the man’s face, and just as quickly it disappeared. He glanced at Justin then turned his back and walked Alex to the house.

“Come on, horse.” Justin clucked to the gelding and led him to a stall. “You deserve a good rubdown after hauling that
hombre
around all day.” Foster reminded Justin of a barn cat playing with a field mouse, or maybe a snake slithering after an unsuspecting bird. He shook his head. What did Alex see in the man? He hadn’t seen any signs of interest on her part, but then, what did he know? Foster was right—he was only the hired man.

“Papa, you here?” Toby’s dark head poked around the edge of the stall divider. “Miz Marfa said come to dinner.”

Justin grinned at the boy and swung him up onto his shoulder. “What’s my boy been doing all day?”

Toby giggled, bouncing up and down. “Unca Joe help me ride the horsey. And Miz Marfa fix me cookies. I play wit’ the wagon Unca Joe made.”

“You’re gonna be plumb spoiled if they keep that up.” He grabbed a flailing leg as the boy tipped backward. “Whoa there. Hold still, or you’ll fall on your head.”