Chapters (40)
- Half Title Page
- Books by Mary Connealy
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Epilogue
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
Nodding, Molly said, “We’ve got a lot to tell, too. And then we’ve got a lot to sort out. We’re going to need a lot of good luck to put it all together.”
“What we need,” Wyatt said, studying Rachel, “is a Pinkerton agent.”
They all looked at Rachel for a time, but she’d settled in to sleep.
Cheyenne was relieved to have all three brothers watching all around. Three skilled men, feeling fully threatened, watching out for trouble. They eased up some when they reached a wide spot in the trail, the forests far enough back no coyote looking for an easy kill would be lying in wait for them here.
“Like I said, there’s a lot to tell.” Cheyenne set out to tell what had happened, including the connection from Kingston to Clovis to Hawkins.
Wyatt told the tale of what had gone on at the Hawkins Ranch.
Cheyenne eyed the shadow of a bruise forming on Win’s face and scowled. “Let me see your arm, Molly.”
“Not out here for heaven’s sake. I can’t pull my sleeve up far enough to show so you’re just going to have to wait.”
Cheyenne didn’t like to admit it, but Molly had a point. It stewed and boiled inside her to see how bad hurt Molly was, and Cheyenne wanted to hurt Oliver Hawkins even more.
“But you got word to the Pinkertons?” Molly picked up the story Cheyenne had spun.
“Yes, according to Rachel, what we sent will let them know she’s in trouble. So they should send help. And we’ve set in motion the investigation of Falcon’s ma.” Cheyenne looked at Falcon regretfully. The importance of knowing the date she died seemed unfeeling, all about land and money and ownership. But she thought of how young he had been, left alone in a cabin. His ma needing to be buried. It didn’t bear thinking of. She wanted to hold him and offer him comfort.
The RHR came in sight, and Cheyenne’s heart lifted. So much going on, and now she was home. Home. The law might not say so at the moment, but in her heart this would always be home.
“I think I’ve figured out what God meant when he said honor your father and mother.” Win pressed her hand over her swollen cheek.
They all turned to look at her. It was a question they’d all wrestled with.