The Rancher's Housekeeper

Incredulous, he sank back down in the chair, damned if he read the rest, damned if he didn’t. Compelled to finish, he read the entire article. Robbery had been the motive. It had happened soon after Colt’s father had died and their family had been in deep mourning, but the story had been all over the media, so he had heard about it at the time.

He groaned loudly enough that Titus moved over and sat by him. Again Colt felt as though he’d been the one repeatedly bludgeoned with the Marshalltown trowel she’d plunged into the old man’s chest numerous times.

Colt knew every human had a dark side, but to imagine that the woman sleeping in Mary’s room had killed an old man in cold blood seemed beyond the realm of possibility to him.

There was a picture of her after she’d been taken into custody. She’d been fifteen to twenty pounds heavier then with hair to her shoulders. According to one of the reports, she’d been given sixty years. That was as good as a lifetime sentence.

But she’d served only thirteen months of it…. How could she be out on parole this fast? Had there been a mistrial? Some snag that had freed her because the evidence wasn’t strong enough to hold her?

There had to be a flaw in Colt that had misread the purity in her eyes. Geena had seemed like a shiny dime gleaming pure silver he’d picked up from the ground. But when he turned it over, he discovered rust had eaten the silver away.

Her situation reminded him of the freed prisoner his father had hired. His dad had felt sorry for the younger man. Everyone makes mistakes, Colt. This man deserves a second chance.

But the second chance had turned into an opportunity for the ex-felon to take advantage and rob his father.

Colt’s instincts had been right not to hire this woman, but he wanted an explanation for Geena’s release and he wanted it now!

Grabbing his phone, he called South Dakota information for the women’s prison in Pierre. In a minute he was put through to the prison’s voice mail. There was a menu. He pressed the digit for an emergency.

When a voice answered he said, “This is Colt Brannigan from the Floral Valley Ranch in Wyoming. I have to speak to Warden James tonight. She called me earlier today. I wasn’t able to return it until now. This is urgent.”

“Hold the line please.”

“Thank you.”

The blood was still surging through his veins when he heard a sound on the other end. “Mr. Brannigan? This is Warden James.”

“I appreciate your coming to the phone. I know it’s late, but this call is about one of the inmates, Geena Williams. She came to my ranch tonight looking for work, but she said she didn’t talk to you about it.”

“That’s true. She must have seen your ad in the prison newspaper. When she left our facility this morning, she indicated she’d go to a women’s shelter for the night.”

“Why was she released when she’s supposed to be serving a sixty-year sentence for murder?” Whatever answer she gave him wouldn’t help, but he still had to know.

“She didn’t tell you?”

Colt took a shuddering breath. “Tell me what?” he bit out.

“Yesterday morning I got word from the governor of South Dakota that Ms. Williams had been wrongfully imprisoned and the real killer has been caught.”

“What?”

For the second time since coming in the den, Colt was on his feet, but for an entirely different reason. With the warden’s explanation, he felt as though he’d just been freed from his own hellish prison after reading the hideous details on the Internet.

He hadn’t been wrong about Geena. After what she’d been through, no wonder he saw that vulnerable look in her eyes.

“Ms Williams has been fully exonerated. She was given her certificate.”

“Certificate?” he muttered, still in shock.

“It’s a legal document—her passport to freedom, for want of a better word.”

He realized it must have been in her backpack. “She spent a whole year in prison for nothing?” he blurted. After sustaining the shock, he was outraged for her.

“Yes. Hers was a very unusual case, very cruel. When I realized she had nowhere to go, I thought I might be able to help her find work and tried several places without success. After I learned that the position at your ranch had been filled, there was no point in telling her. I didn’t want her to get discouraged.”

Colt felt shame for having blown off the warden’s phone call so easily. If he’d bothered to speak to her himself, he would have learned the truth about Geena and would have given her a chance to apply for the position. “She took the news well,” he admitted. Hell—she’d been incredible about it!

“That sounds like Geena. I’m glad to hear she made it to your ranch safely and hope she finds work soon. She was a model prisoner in every sense of the word. It pains me that she was ever incarcerated.”

His mouth had gone so dry, he could hardly talk. “That’s all I needed to know. I’m more grateful to you than you know for coming to the phone. Goodnight, Warden.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Brannigan.”

He was so wired he knew there’d be no sleep for him tonight. After leaving a note in the kitchen that he’d be out on the range if an emergency cropped up, he headed for the back door.

Titus was right there with him and climbed in the truck before they took off. For the rest of the night he drove around thinking. He could hear his father’s voice. Everyone makes mistakes, Colt. This man deserves a second chance.

But in Geena’s case, she hadn’t made a mistake!

Shocked when it got to be four-fifteen, he turned around and headed home with his mind made up about what he wanted to do. Before he parked the truck, his headlights shone on the big ponderosa further down the drive.

Her bike was gone.

At ten to six, Geena rode into the full-service gas station in Sundance. She was glad the dog hadn’t heard her leave the ranch house. While Mr. Brannigan was still asleep, she’d been able to slip away unnoticed and get going. Her problem now was to wait it out until someone came to open the station so she could get a drink and use the restroom.

There were several piles of rubber tires stacked outside the bay doors. She propped her bike against one. Since no one was there, she pulled down two tires and sat on them while she rested against the pile. Once she’d covered herself with her space blanket, she was able to relax and plan out her day.

Her first destination would be the library. She’d scan the want ads online and find a job. If she ate only two meals a day and bought her food at the grocery store, she ought to stay afloat for a little while longer.

Tonight she’d sleep at the YWCA. She’d passed it yesterday on her way to the bike shop. In fact, en route to the library, she’d go over there and reserve a cot before they reached their quota for the day.

When it got to be seven-fifteen, she rolled off the tires and put them back, then walked her bike over to the restroom and rested it against the wall to wait. Pretty soon a man drove in and opened up the office. She said hello and followed him inside to get a soft drink. He went around and unlocked the restroom for her.

Once she’d used the facility, she opened the door, only to find her bike was gone! Geena had been in there only a minute. Frantic because of her loss, she raced around to the front, thinking she’d catch the culprit before he could get away.

“Relax, Geena.”

At the sound of the deep, familiar voice, she swung around to face a clean-shaven Colt Brannigan standing at the side of the dark blue truck she’d seen parked outside the ranch house. His hard-boned features were shadowed beneath his black cowboy hat. This morning he was wearing a blue-and-green plaid shirt that covered his well-defined chest. Hip-hugging jeans molded to his powerful thighs.

Her thighs, in fact the whole length of her legs, wobbled just looking at him.

She’d never seen a sight like him and had the conviction she never would again, no matter how long she lived. When she’d left the ranch earlier, she’d determined to put all thoughts of him out of her mind. Geena had survived prison by shutting off her feelings. Surely she could do it again while she made a new life for herself, but this man was unforgettable.

“I was afraid someone would steal your bike, so I put it in the back of my truck for safekeeping.”

Geena’s heart was still racing too fast. She knew her upset over the stolen bike wasn’t the only reason she couldn’t seem to quell its tempo. Nervousness caused her to rub damp palms against her jeans-clad hips. “What are you doing here?”

He took a step toward her. “When I saw your bike was missing, I figured I’d find you in town. We have unfinished business this morning.”