Page 24 of Heart of Mystic Valley
Grayson exchanged a glance with Joshua, who gave a slow nod. Nathan’s grip tightened on his pistol, his eyes alert and ready.
“I’m opening the door,” Grayson announced, his free hand reaching for the latch. “But I warn you, we’re armed.”
With a deep breath, Grayson opened the door, revealing the storm-lashed night beyond. The wind howled into the house, bringing with it a spray of icy rain. And there, silhouetted against the tempest, stood a lone figure.
The figure before them was a man, drenched to the bone, his great coat clinging to his frame like a second skin. A wide-brimmed hat was pulled low over his head, obscuring most of his features, but Grayson could see the glint of desperate eyes peering out from beneath its brim.
“Good Lord,” Grayson muttered, his stern bearing shaken by the sight. He quickly regained his composure, motioning the stranger inside with a sweep of his arm. “Come in, man, before you catch your death out there.”
The stranger stumbled across the threshold, water pooling at his feet as he stood dripping in the entryway. Joshua and Nathan flanked their older brother, weapons still at the ready.
“Who are you?” Grayson demanded, his voice firm but not unkind. “And what brings you to Wild Spirit Ranch on a night like this?”
The stranger’s hands, trembling slightly from the cold, reached up to remove his hat before pulling the sleeves of the great coat, letting it fall to the floor. As he did so, a shock of thick auburn hair was revealed, plastered to his forehead by the rain.His stark, gray-blue eyes met Grayson’s, a mix of wariness and relief evident in their depths.
“Name’s Trent Galloway,” he said, his words crisp, despite the slight drawl. “I was caught in the storm, saw your place. I’m much obliged for the shelter.”
Grayson studied the man for a moment, noting his lean but muscular build and the way he carried himself. Galloway was alert, even in his exhausted state. A man, Grayson guessed, accustomed to danger.
“I’m Grayson Beckett. These are my brothers, Joshua and Nathan.”
Joshua nodded, his gaze assessing. Nathan, ever the friendly one, managed a quick smile.
Grayson weighed the potential risks against the basic human decency of offering aid to a stranger in need. The storm continued to rage outside, emphasizing the dire circumstances that brought this man to their door.
“You’re welcome to dry off and warm up,” Grayson finally said, his tone still cautious. “I hope you understand if we keep a close eye on you, Mr. Galloway. These are uncertain times, and we’ve got family to protect.”
Trent Galloway nodded, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “I’d expect nothing less, Mr. Beckett. You’re wise to be cautious. I assure you, I mean no harm to you or yours. I’m just grateful for a roof over my head tonight.”
As Grayson watched Galloway carefully remove his sodden boots, he couldn’t shake the feeling this unexpected visitor was about to bring a whirlwind of change to Wild Spirit Ranch. One rivaling the storm still howling beyond their walls.
As the men stood in uneasy silence, the sound of determined footsteps drew their attention. Naomi Beckett emerged from the shadows of the hallway, her petite frame belying the strength inher bearing. Her light eyes, sharp and discerning, swept over the scene before settling on their unexpected guest.
Naomi stepped forward, positioning herself in front of her sons, a subtle yet unmistakable gesture of protection. “I’m Naomi Beckett, matriarch of this household. And you are?”
Trent Galloway offered a respectful nod to Naomi. “Ma’am, I’m Trent Galloway. I apologize for the late intrusion.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What brings you to these parts, Mr. Galloway? Our ranch isn’t exactly on the way to anywhere.”
Galloway’s gaze met Naomi’s, a flicker of admiration crossing his face at her directness. “Truth be told, Mrs. Beckett, I’m a bounty hunter. I’m on the trail of some men who robbed a bank in Helena not two weeks past.”
A collective intake of breath filled the room. Joshua stepped forward, his interest piqued. “The Helena robbery? We heard about it. Took quite a haul, didn’t they?”
Galloway nodded. “They did. And left two good men dead in the process. I aim to bring them to justice.”
Naomi’s brow furrowed, her mind working through the implications of harboring a bounty hunter who could potentially draw the attention of dangerous criminals. “And you think these men might be headed to Mystic?”
“I have reason to believe they’re hiding out in this area,” Galloway replied, his Texas drawl becoming more pronounced. “Hoping to lay low until the heat dies down.”
Grayson exchanged a worried glance with his mother. The thought of such dangerous men so close to their home sent a chill down his spine. “How can you be sure?” he asked.
“I’ve been tracking them for days. Found some evidence pointing this way.”
“Mr. Galloway,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument, “I think it’s time you told us everything you knowabout these men and why you believe they’re here. Our hospitality comes at the price of your honesty.”
The bounty hunter’s eyes widened slightly, not expecting such forthrightness from the diminutive woman before him. A tense silence fell over the room as everyone waited to see how he would respond.
Naomi’s piercing gaze bore into Trent Galloway, her resolve as unyielding as the Montana mountains surrounding them. The bounty hunter shifted his weight, his hand instinctively brushing the grip of his holstered pistol.
