Page 28 of Heart of Mystic Valley
Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes clouded with worry. “Those bank robbers from Helena? They hit the bank in Mystic. We thought they were headed toward Bozeman until Cody spotted their tracks taking a wide turn south. Appears they’re headed this way. Brodie, along with Cody and the posse, are close behind me, but…”
He trailed off, his gaze drifting to the vast expanse of land surrounding them. Grayson understood the unspoken concern. Wild Spirit Ranch was isolated and vulnerable.
Jolene’s hand found Grayson’s, squeezing it gently. “We’ve weathered worse.” She gazed up at her husband. “How do you want to handle this?”
“We need to warn the family and hands, get everyone prepared. And…” Grayson hesitated, a flicker of something passing across his face. “You, Little Cody, Ma, and my sisters need to be ready to hide in the root cellar.”
When Jolene opened her mouth to protest, Grayson stopped her with a stern look. “You have our baby to protect. Ma and my sisters should be with you, just in case the outlaws find you.They’re as good with six-shooters and rifles as the men. They’ll keep you safe. Go inside and warn them. Josh and I will notify the boys and our ranch hands.”
As Jolene disappeared inside, the sound of approaching hoofbeats drew their attention. A cloud of dust on the horizon heralded the arrival of more riders, their identities yet unknown.
Grayson’s hand tightened on his revolver. “Could be trouble’s found us sooner than we thought,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out the approaching figures.
The tension in the air was palpable as the brothers braced themselves for whatever was coming their way, the peaceful evening now fraught with danger and uncertainty.
The approaching riders thundered closer, their silhouettes sharpening against the fading light. Joshua’s keen eyes narrowed, recognizing the lead rider’s gait. “It’s Cody and the posse,” he announced, tension easing from his shoulders.
Indeed, Cody Beckett rode at the front, his face set in grim determination. Next to him was Brodie. Behind them were several other men.
“Did you find their tracks?” Joshua asked.
Cody reined in his horse. “They’re headed toward Black Canyon and Flatrock,” he spat out, his voice rough with anger and fatigue. “We’ll be lucky to get close to them once they hide back in the canyon.”
Hearing the news, already knowing how difficult it would be to hunt the outlaws in the twisting canyons, Joshua’s thoughts returned to Faith. Maybe the reason she’d never expressed deeper feelings for him was because friendship was all she could offer. Her obvious attraction to Trent Galloway seemed to confirm this.
“What do you think, Josh?”
Cody’s voice shook him from the depressing turn of his thoughts. “Sorry. Wasn’t listening.”
“What are the odds of locating the bandits in Black Canyon?” Trent Galloway asked.
“One or two men might be able to pass by the guards without being spotted, but not an entire posse. Unless the outlaws can climb the straight walls of the canyon, there’s just one way in and one way out.” Joshua paused for the information to sink in.
Of the older Beckett brothers, he’d been the only one interested in exploring the canyon when they were young. Joshua and a friend from Iron Angel Ranch would explore it whenever their chores were finished and the weather held out.
“You’re saying we should wait them out?” Cody asked.
“I never found any other way out.” Then Joshua had another thought. “Unless we drop in from the top.” The men chuckled at the suggestion. “Or contact the commandant at Fort Ellis. Let those boys in blue raid Flatrock.”
Chapter Eleven
It was late afternoon when Faith Goodell sat in her kitchen, eating warm beef stew. Her mind churned with restless thoughts, not tasting the meal she’d prepared.
“This won’t do,” she muttered, pushing away her half-empty bowl. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the worn wooden floor.
Her eyes darted to the clock on the mantle. Still early enough. Decision made, she strode to the coat rack by the door, donning her favorite coat.
The streets of Mystic were quieter than usual as Faith made her way to the Mystic Gazette office. The fading sunlight glinted off the newspaper’s painted sign.
Inside, Faith lit the oil lamps, bathing her father’s old desk in a welcoming glow. She settled into the familiar chair, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, her favorite dip pen, and an inkwell.
Her pen scratched across the paper as she began to write. Pausing, she tapped the pen against her chin, wondering what her father would think of the Alliance. A wistful smile tugged at her lips. Faith guessed he would say she was stirring up trouble. Then again, he always encouraged her to question everything. She returned to the task, adding more points to her list.
The scratch of her pen and the occasional creak of the old building were the only sounds in the quiet office. Faith lostherself in the work, the restlessness plaguing her earlier gave way to a sense of purpose.
Finishing the last point, Faith leaned back in her chair, stretching her cramped fingers. She glanced at the clock, surprised to see how much time had passed. Night had settled in, and Faith knew she should head home. Yet, as she gathered her things, a nagging feeling tugged at her. Something about the empty streets and the frightening events of the day left her feeling unsettled.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the sensation. Stepping out into the cool night air, she locked the office behind her. Faith couldn’t quite shake the feeling change was coming to Mystic, and not all of it might be welcome.
