Boone snorted. “Palms like a banker. No callus on the rein hand, no rope burn. Asked too many questions about our ranch’s north fence line and who rides it at night.”
Trace’s eyes snapped up, sharp. “Did he find out anything about our Security?”
“No. Hank ran the guy off. Told him the bar was closing early for inventory. The guy left a twenty on a five-dollar beer and didn’t argue. It was too smooth.” Boone paused, letting Daisy lower her head to sniff the straw. “The plate on his truck is a rental out of Denver. I snapped a photo. Sent that to Griff, too.”
Trace straightened and wiped his hands on a rag. “Griff’s running it now?”
“Already done. The truck’s registered to a shell company in Cheyenne. It looks clean on paper, but the address is just a mailbox.” Boone paused, his jaw tightening before he spoke. “Griff said the guy asked about Joy’s photography schedule. Specifically.”
Chance stiffened. “What the fuck?” The mare shifted, lifting her tail again. His voice lowered to a growl. “Did he mention Joy specifically, or just a photographer in general?”
Boone shook his head. “Not by name. Just ‘the pretty photographer with the wildflowers.’ Hank played dumb. Said she shoots sunrise to sunset, and good luck catching her.”
Trace snatched off his hat and ran his hand through his close-cropped hair. Who the hell was after Kip? And now, it seemedwhoever was after her wanted the other girls, too. The ranch had just gotten a good routine going, and now this? He needed answers. “How would he know her logo was wildflowers? Why would he look something like that up? Forget that. Call Grant. I want increased security for the ranch by sunrise.”
Boone’s eyes locked with Trace’s over the mare’s back. “We’re not waiting for sunrise.”
Chance agreed. “Tell Grant to put a rider on the north ridge tonight. Quiet. No lights.”
Boone nodded. “Dutch, Griff, and I will take the east fence as soon as we’re done here to check for fresh cuts. We need to let the girls know.”
Trace needed to get to Kip. Skittish as she was, if she thought something was wrong, she’d run. He wasn’t about to let that happen. She was the best thing in his life, and he could be that for her, too, once she let him in. “I’ll tell them. I’m headed back to the house anyway, and news like this is best delivered in person.”
“Already texted,” Boone said. “And I told Ruby to lock all the doors. No Littles out. No strangers in. No exceptions.”
Daisy sighed, a long, shuddering breath. Trace ran a hand down her neck. “Good girl. You’re gonna be fine.”
Boone’s smile was thin, all business. “So will we. But Wesley Zhou just bought himself a less-than-pleasant conversation with the Daniels brothers.”
Trace’s laugh was low and dangerous. “Tell Hank the next time I’m in the saloon, drinks for the house are on me. Zhou picked the wrong Little girls to mess with.”
As Tanner led Daisy back to her stall, Trace rinsed the bucket and tube before looping the tube over his shoulder. “Hold off on the stall, Tanner. Walk her another ten minutes, then put her in for the night. Light mash tonight, hay in the morning. No grain till I say.”
Tanner nodded already moving to the door. Javi clapped Trace’s back once, hard and grateful. “Owe you a beer, Doc.”
“Make it two,” Trace said with a grin, wiping sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. “And tell Ruby dinner’s gonna be late.”
As he stepped into the dusk, the mare’s relieved snort followed him like applause. Behind him, Tanner’s low laugh mingled with Javi’s quieter one. It was as if the barn itself exhaled a sigh of relief as Trace headed back to the lodge.
First, a shower; then he had to break the news of Wesley Zhou to his Little girl. At least that’s what she’d be soon. Her past, whatever it was, had caught up to her, and not for the first time, he’d bet. People didn’t have a go bag like the one he’d spied in her apartment earlier unless they were used to being on the run. It was time for her to learn exactly who wanted to be her Daddy.
She probably thought running was the best option. Thought the go-bag in her trunk was freedom. Tonight, he’d show her what hemeant when he saidmine.No more sunrise without his hand on her throat, steady and sure.
Wesley Zhou had strolled into the wrong damn territory.
Trace Daniels protected what was his.
Two hours later,Kip yelped when the kitchen door banged open just as Ruby set the cake knife down, and in spilled Trace, Boone, Chance, and Tanner, boots dusted with snow, hats in hand, grins as wide as the Wyoming sky.
“I smelled Ruby’s brisket from the county line,” Tanner announced, dropping his duffel by the door and heading straight for the table. He tousled Joy’s hair as he passed. “Happy ranch-iversary, squirt.”
Chance followed, sliding into the empty chair between Joy andGrant with the ease of a man who’d grown up elbow-to-elbow at this very table. “I heard there was cake. Told the boys on the fence line I’d take the last sweep so I could beat these two here—figured the extra eyes on the ridge were worth the detour.”
Kip focused all her attention on the card she was decorating. She had to leave. She’d put everyone in danger. Reynaldo Rios had found her again, and he wouldn’t care who he hurt in his determination to get to her. This was why she’d wanted to bring her own car.
Boone hung his hat on the rack by the door, crossed to the kitchen and stole a piece of cornbread straight from the skillet. “Glad it’s ready. I brought the appetite.”
Ruby swatted Boone’s hand with a dish towel, but her smile betrayed her. “Sit, sit—there’s plenty. Everyone’s here. Perfect. Girls,” she called. “Time to eat. You can work on the cards more later.”
