Page 25 of Heart of Mystic Valley
“Ma’am,” Galloway began, his voice low and measured, “I respect your concern for your family and town. But some details of my investigation are a tetch sensitive.”
Grayson stepped forward, his broad shoulders tense. “Mr. Galloway, we appreciate your position, but we need to know what kind of danger might be headed our way.”
Naomi’s weathered hands clenched at her sides as she wrestled with her conflicting instincts. The storm howled outside, punctuating the tense silence within.
“Despite my reservations, I can’t in good conscience turn you out in this weather, Mr. Galloway.” She turned to her daughter. “Annalee, prepare a place for our guest to sleep on the kitchen floor.”
Annalee nodded, her youthful energy a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Right away, Mama.”
As Annalee bustled off, Naomi fixed Galloway with a stern look. “But understand this. Your presence here puts us all at risk. I expect you to share what information you have come morning.”
“You have my word, Mrs. Beckett. And I’m grateful for your hospitality.”
While Naomi busied herself preparing a late meal for their unexpected guest, Grayson pulled his brothers aside. “We can’tbe too careful,” he murmured. “Joshua, Nathan, Cody—we’ll take turns keeping watch through the night.”
Joshua’s brow furrowed. “Good idea.”
“Better safe than sorry,” Cody said. The bitterness in his eyes spoke of tragedy and loss.
Nathan nodded in agreement. “I’ll take first watch.”
As the storm’s fury began to wane in the small hours of the morning, the Beckett brothers maintained their vigilant rotation. Each man’s thoughts turned to the potential dangers lurking beyond their walls, and the mysterious stranger now sleeping under their roof.
The morning sun streamed through the windows of Wild Spirit Ranch, illuminating the bustling kitchen. Faith Goodell smoothed her skirt as she stepped into the room, her curious gaze drawn to the unfamiliar figure seated at the table.
“Faith, Evelyn. I don’t believe you’ve met our visitor,” Naomi Beckett called, gesturing toward the rugged man. “This is Mr. Trent Galloway. Trent, this is Evelyn Graham and Faith Goodell. They’re good friends of our family.”
Trent stood with a courteous nod. “Ladies, it’s a pleasure.”
Faith felt a flutter in her chest as she met Trent’s piercing gaze. “Mr. Galloway.” She ignored the unexpected warmth spreading through her.
As everyone settled around the table, the aroma of coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air. Annalee bustled about, serving plates piled high with scrambled eggs and crisp bacon.
“So, Mr. Galloway,” Evelyn began, her eyes alight with curiosity, “what brings you to our little corner of Montana?”
Trent took a sip of coffee before answering. “Well, Miss Graham, I’m on the trail of some bank robbers who hit Helena not too long ago. Nasty bunch, but they’ve left quite a trail.”
Faith leaned forward, her interest piqued. “You’re a lawman, then?”
“Bounty hunter,” Trent corrected, a hint of a drawl in his voice. “Used to be a Texas Ranger, though.”
Faith’s eyebrows shot up. “A Texas Ranger? How interesting.”
Trent’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “It had its moments, Miss Goodell. I remember this one time in Amarillo…”
As Trent launched into a tale of a daring capture, Faith found herself hanging on every word. His voice painted vivid pictures of sunbaked prairies and dusty saloons, of desperate outlaws and narrow escapes.
“…and there I was, staring down the barrel of his gun,” Trent continued. “I thought for sure my life was over.”
“What happened next?” Annalee asked breathlessly, nearly forgetting the plate of biscuits in her hands.
Trent’s grin widened. “Well, let’s just say Lady Luck was on my side. A stray tumbleweed caught his eye for just a second, and that’s all I needed.”
As laughter rippled around the table, Faith couldn’t help but notice the way Trent’s eyes seemed to linger on her. She felt a blush creeping up her neck and quickly looked away.
“Mr. Galloway, you must have seen so much of the country in your travels,” she said. “Have you ever considered writing about your experiences?”
Trent’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Can’t say that I have, Miss Goodell. Why do you ask?”
