Bridal Falls Ranch Ransom Read Online Free Page A

covered porch, listening to the creak of the wooden stairs under his boot soles. Only the second step offered up a sound. He backtracked onto it to make sure his observation was correct before he stepped onto the landing and walked through the door the foreman had already opened.
    “It’s a nice place. Should serve your needs.”
    He surveyed the interior of the cabin from the neatly made double bed to the adjoining bath. He put his duffel bag down on the bed. “It’ll suffice.”
    Devon nodded. “Step outside. I’ll point out the members of the crew.”
    He followed the foreman as he moseyed out onto the porch, where he locked his hands on the railing and pushed his hat back.
    Stepping up next to Devon, he eyed the mounted riders pushing the last of the cattle through the gate into the pasture.
    “The cowboy on the big bay horse is Tyler Spangler, been at Bridal Falls since before Hank Brooks died.”
    “Four years ago?” J.P. asked, clarifying the information he’d gleaned from Henry the chopper pilot.
    “Yeah. He was foreman here before Miss Brooks took over the operation and put me in charge.”
    “How’d that sit with him, you taking his position?” The pointed question hung in the air between them like a dagger.
    Devon’s shoulders tensed but slowly relaxed as he turned toward him. “He was mad as hell. Probably still carrying a grudge, but there wasn’t much he could do to me in a full leg cast. Tyler got busted up pretty bad that year at the Riggins’ Rodeo. He wasn’t in any position to argue with Miss Brooks.”
    He nodded and turned his attention back to the cowboys. “The man on the paint?”
    “Buck Walters, the oldest member of the crew. Solid. Came to work here three years ago. Ruckus Bartlett on that damn leopard Appaloosa he insists on riding, he’s been here for a year and a half. Dave Haney is on the palomino. Another solid guy, been here the same length of time as Buck.”
    “Three years?”
    “Yeah. The last two pokes on the sorrel quarter horses are Cody and Troy Profit. Idaho cowboys, brothers, both former bull riders. Cody took the PRCA championship buckle in Vegas two years ago, and Troy came home in an ambulance.”
    “What happened?”
    “Took a bull horn just below his flat-jacket after his qualifying ride. Messed up his insides, but he pulled through. Had to give up the circuit, but we’re glad he’s here.”
    “You’re right, Devon. You’ve got a good crew.” Every one of them fit the definition of a cowpoke. Hats, boots and a horse, but he planned to look past the obvious. Did any of them have a record?
    The foreman pushed back from the railing. “Lunch is in half an hour. You’ll know it when Charleen starts clanging the dinner bell down at the lodge.” He took the steps and paused at the bottom. “I’ll make proper introductions then.”
    “I’ll be there.” J.P. watched the foreman walk away before turning back into the cabin. There was a good mix of wranglers on the Bridal Falls Ranch, he didn’t doubt it. But could one of them be responsible for kidnapping Thomas Avery and threatening Eve Brooks over the unclaimed ransom money?
    He wasn’t sure, but he planned to check out each and every one of them as soon as Devon Hall sent him the employee files. In the meantime he’d get to know them at lunch. A handshake could tell a lot about a man. That and the look in his eyes.
    * * *
    A lack of noise brought J.P. up out of bed. Pushing back the covers, he sat up, getting his bearings in the unfamiliar room.
    He’d always cussed the drone of traffic in the street below his apartment window in L.A. Now he’d give anything to be lulled to sleep by the revving of a hundred car engines.
    It was just too quiet.
    He stood up, went to the door, pulled it open and stepped out onto the narrow porch.
    A fat yellow moon hung in the night sky almost directly overhead. He stared at the face of his watch in its glow and muffled a curse. Two a.m. Two blasted a.m.