Chapter 7 Disappearing Act

Mid March

Before Ames exited the tiny hangar that housed the pair of crop dusters shared by the ranchers in Pinetop, he could already sense the small mountain town was abuzz with something new. Posters were on display everywhere, including the wall he parked their Canyon Creek Ranch jet beside. It was advertising something called the Spring Awakening Gala. From the pictures, it looked like they were talking about a parade, one that would mark the official start of springtime.

Yep. Only in Pinetop!

You could be gone a few days and miss a landmark annual celebration. It was kind of hilarious how the locals made such a big deal out of, well, everything. As much as he and his brothers joked about it, he was going to miss it when they moved back home.

They'd stalled on making that decision for just about as long as they could for one very big, very monumental reason — Pinetop had changed their lives. A part of their hearts would always belong to this small mountain town. Ames anticipated many return visits back. Regular ones. There was a good chance they'd continue to perform at Castellano's, just a few weeks here and there. They were still negotiating the details about that.

It would've never worked. None of this going back and forth between Dallas and Pinetop would've ever worked without Ames' pilot's license. Nor would it have worked without one of the top foremen in the west helping run their horse ranch during their absence, a highly experienced foreman who'd just last night turned in his three-month notice. Come summer, he was heading overseas to accept a job at a much larger horse ranch in England.

Ames had yet to break the news to his brothers. It was going to spark a very serious conversation. One they'd been putting off for months. One that would require them to set an official end date to their extended stay in Pinetop.

Flint was waiting for him outside the hangar in the two-toned Chevy pickup they'd been sharing during their stint in Pinetop.

He waggled his eyebrows as Ames jogged up to the passenger door and yanked it open. "How was Dallas?"

Ames was pretty sure he detected a hint of homesickness in the question. "Interesting." He wasn't sure if now was the time to deliver his news.

"How so?" Flint revved the motor and started rolling forward while Ames was still getting buckled in.

Guess it's the right time, after all. "Our foreman just turned in his three-month notice." Ames dug the letter out of the back pocket of his jeans and waved the crumpled sheet of paper beneath Flint's nose.

"I should've seen that coming." Ignoring the letter Ames was holding out, Flint hunched over the steering wheel, looking sulky.

"How so?" Ames hadn't seen anything coming. He was just grateful they had three months to figure out what they were going to do about it.

Flint shrugged. "Nothing exciting has been happening at Canyon Creek Ranch since we accepted this gig in Pinetop. Our staff there has been in a perennial holding pattern. We brought our top horse trainer with us and everything. To be honest, I'm surprised our foreman is the only one we've lost so far."

"Good point." There was no way Nash would've left Noelle behind in Dallas. She'd played too important of a role in his long road to recovery. He'd needed her at his side far more than they needed her churning out rodeo horses in Dallas.

"That's why I made it," Flint grumbled. "If we want to stay on the map as one of the top horse training ranches in the west, we're gonna have to get our boots back on the ground in Dallas. Don't get me wrong. This going back and forth has been fun, but…"

"And necessary for Nash," Ames interjected. Their oldest brother had desperately needed this transition time between the national bronc riding circuit and his retirement from the rodeo industry. It had kept his spirits from flagging as he adjusted to his new life as an amputee. Getting married along the way and having a bun in the oven was just the icing on the cake — God style.

An enormous sense of gratitude welled inside Ames' chest. He pointed upward with both forefingers. Thank you, Lord. For bringing us through another really tough challenge. While in Pinetop, all three brothers had grown closer to each other and to God. They were stronger now. Better men. More ready to face what came next. He was pretty sure that meant all three of them would be retiring from the rodeo circuit. It was going to be another huge transition, this time to full-time ranching.

"Agreed." Flint drove them from the outskirts of town to Main Street. "Though Nash hasn't said anything to me about it yet, I think he's getting as homesick as you and I are. It might have something to do with having a kid on the way."

"It might." Ames waved their foreman's resignation letter in the air again. "This is going to force us to make some tough decisions."

"Maybe we can have our sit down over dinner this evening." They reached the business district. Flint hung a left and set their course for Castellano's. "Since you just got back into town, they're giving us the night off. Christie Hart will be filling in with her newest trick riding routine. She's been working on two new stunts that she's ready to unveil." Though she was now married to local mechanic Wes Wakefield, she continued to go by her maiden name while in the ring. It was easier than trying to rebrand her award-winning Hart of the West performance.

Ames stifled a yawn. "I don't mind taking the evening off." It might give him time to pay a quick visit to Laura. His heart thumped harder in anticipation. He'd really missed her this time.

"Me, either." Flint gave an even noisier yawn that all but rattled the windows.

Everything's a competition with you.Ames shot him a dark look. "Not sure why you're so tired. I'm the one who flew a red-eye flight back."

"Are you kidding?" Flint curled his upper lip. "I had to pick up the slack all over the place while you were away."

Ames snorted. "Something tells me that did not include doing laundry, washing dishes, getting the oil changed in the truck…" He ticked the list off on his fingers.

"Been keeping an eye on your girl," Flint shot back. "That should count for something."

"More like keeping an eye on her younger sister, but okay. I'll bite. What happened while I was gone?" Ames whipped out his cell phone and settled more comfortably in the seat so he could text Laura.

I'm back. Missed you.

She still wasn't ready to hear what he really wanted to say — that he was falling in love with her. He was so far past the friendly feelings part of their relationship that it was laughable. He didn't want to scare her off by telling her the whole truth, though. Not yet.

"Caught one of the newest wranglers at Castellano's snapping a picture of her and Lucy with his cell phone. I collared the creep and made him erase it."

"Which one?" Ames tapped his phone impatiently against his palm as he waited for Laura to respond to his text.

"Some joker by the name of Oak. I think it's short for Oakley. From what I can gather, he doesn't have much of a resume, but you know how Angel and Willa Castellano feel about taking in strays."

Ames grunted as his phone vibrated with an incoming text. It was from Laura. He eagerly read it.

Missed you, too!!! Glad you're back. Want to do lunch?

Flint shot him a disgusted look as he pulled into the rear parking lot at the dinner theater. "It's hard to have a convo with a guy who takes weeks to answer."

"Sorry." Ames typed a quick affirmative answer to Laura. Yes! Just tell me when and where. "Anything else you've been able to find out about this Oakley?"

"Oak," Flint corrected. "Very little other than the fact he wandered into Castellano's a few months back, looking for a job. The rest is history. Chatted up the head wrangler, and he says Oak does a decent job with the horses. Oh, and he seems to think Oak and Brex are pretty tight. Got the impression they might know each other from somewhere else."

Ames yanked his head up from his phone. "Brex Morrison?" What could some wandering rodeo hand possibly have in common with Laura's ex?

Flint gave him a strange look. "You know anyone else by that ridiculous name?"

"I reckon not." Ames mulled over what his brother had told him. "How long did you say Oak has been in town?"

"Few months." Flint shrugged. "Roman can probably give you the exact date. Why?"

"Just trying to figure out if he was around when the jewelry store was robbed."

Flint gave a long, low whistle. "Affirmative."

"I know it's a long shot, but I'm toying with a new theory." Ames couldn't prove anything yet. It was only a gut feeling at this point.

"You think Gypsy Boy was in on the robbery, eh?" Flint didn't look overly disturbed by the possibility.

"If he was, he had an accomplice. That we know." Ames had been suspicious of Brex from the beginning. He was the only guy in town with a proven track record for dishonesty. Theft, to be more precise. The jewelry robbery sure fit that picture. So did the fact that he'd managed to weasel his booth of nutcrackers into the jewelry section at the Sweetheart Spectacular. Ames wasn't sure what it ultimately had to do with the heist, but it felt connected somehow.

"Yep, the police said there had to be at least two robbers." Flint grabbed a parking spot and killed the motor. "So if Brex turns out to be one of them, are you thinking Oak was his accomplice?"

"Anything is possible. As far as I know, the sheriff's department has no solid leads yet." Ames left the truck and waited for his brother to join him as he made his way down the ramp leading to the lower-level stables.

They paused inside the entrance, and Flint jammed his thumb toward the training ring. "While you play detective, I've got some work to do with my horse. I wanna try something new tomorrow night." He didn't elaborate before taking off down the hallway.

Ames checked his phone again, but Laura still hadn't sent him a time or place for their lunch date. Yeah, he was calling it a date, at least inside his head. He was pretty sure they were about ready to cross that line. He couldn't wait. There were several more lines he was hoping to cross after that.

Looking up, he caught sight of yet another poster for Pinetop's upcoming Spring Awakening Gala. He eyed it in bemusement. Someone had tacked it to the wall of the lower level stables at Castellano's.

Like the horses care.

"It's an interesting spot for a poster, isn't it?" Castellano's head wrangler, Roman Rios, rounded the corner and paused to stand in front of the poster with him.

"My thoughts exactly." Ames flicked the back of his hand against the poster. "The horses aren't exactly rushing to sign up for the parade."

"Yet plenty of them will end up in it, anyway." Roman had grown up at Christmas Tree Farm on the edge of town, a place staffed mostly by migrant workers, which meant he was no typical wrangler. He'd worked nearly every job in the stables at Castellano's before taking on a supervisory role there. Besides training, exercising, and caring for their livestock, he was also very much involved in the show business side of things. It was his responsibility to transport the animals to and from the ring during live performances, parading them around as needed. He occasionally assisted with the stunts, as well, particularly those performed by his wife, Hope, one of the full-time actresses on staff.

"Does that mean you've already received our marching orders for the parade?" Ames had been out of the loop for the past week while in Dallas. He knew he had some catching up to do.

"I have. The mayor is asking for no less than three floats from Castellano's to lead the parade. What I'm about to tell you next is off the record for now, so keep it to yourself." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "The town council will be handing out a special award to Angel and Willa Castellano for their enormous contribution to our town. For all the citizens they employ and their endless philanthropy projects. They're two of the most incredible people I've ever met." There was no mistaking the reverence in his voice. He was close friends with Angel, who'd also grown up at Christmas Tree Farm.

"A well-deserved honor." Ames thought very highly of Angel — right up to his hiring of Oak, that is. "Hey, I need to ask you something. Something I'd also like to keep off the record, if you don't mind."

"Sure." Frowning slightly, Roman fell into step beside him as they made their way up the hallway toward the dressing room he shared with his brothers.

Ames waited until they were seated in a pair of leather overstuffed chairs before sharing what was bothering him. "Flint told me he had a bit of a run-in with your newest wrangler."

"Oh?" Roman sat forward, looking concerned. "Anything I need to step in and handle?"

"Nah, I think they worked it out." Ames briefly described what had happened. "I know it's not a crime to snap a picture. Flint probably overreacted, but…"

"No, he was right to say something to the guy. It was a dumb thing to do. Pretty disrespectful, if you ask me." Roman rested his elbows on his thighs and dropped his chin into his hands, looking troubled. "He does a good job with the horses. Can't deny that."

"But?" Ames prodded.

"But nobody knows much about him." Roman shook his head. "Angel hired the guy when he came looking for a job, because that's how Angel is. Ever since Oak's start date, though, I've wondered if we should've done a little more looking into his background."

Ames' interest piqued. "Why's that?"

Roman grunted. "Just a gut feeling. And the fact that he sticks to himself. Usually, the younger guys hang out together after hours, but not him. The only person in town I've seen him spend time with is an out-of-towner named Brex Morrison. Like Oak, he showed up all sudden like, and now the guy is signed up as a vendor for every craft fair between now and Christmas."

"And you see that as a problem, because…?"

Roman ducked his head. "This is going to sound bad, because I've got no proof, but the two of them showed up in town right before all the robberies began."

Ames jolted. "Robberies, as in plural?" The only one he'd heard about was one that had taken place at All That Glitters.

"Yeah." Roman grimaced. "Other than the diamond ring heist, it's mostly been petty stuff. A crystal figurine here. A collectible coin there. It's been happening all over town. The only reason I know about it is because the sheriff paid me a visit the other day to ask me some questions. I think he was hoping I could shed some light on the newcomers, as well."

"Meaning Brex and Oak?"

"Yep."

Interesting. Though Ames wasn't happy about the string of petty thefts, it was proof that he wasn't the only person in town suspicious of the gypsy vendor and his creepy wrangler friend. He was silent for a moment. "My brothers and I will be happy to keep our eyes and ears open."

"I'd appreciate that." Roman gave him a grateful look. "I'll be doing the same."

"Flint will do a better job of it than me." Ames smirked. "He was born nosy."

Roman chuckled. "He's a lot of fun to be around, isn't he?"

"A barrel of laughs," Ames agreed dryly. "Just be glad you don't live with him." His phone buzzed with an incoming message. He hoped like crazy it was from Laura.

It was.

He gave it a quick glance. Gingerbread House. Noon. His eyes widened at the emoji kiss she'd blown his way at the end of her text.

Wow! He felt his face turning red as he and Roman stood and faced each other.

"Get some good news?" Roman eyed the cell phone in his hand.

"A lunch date." Ames pocketed his phone, turning redder.

"She must be something special." Roman grinned at him. "Word on the street is that you Carson brothers haven't done much dating since you've been in town."

Ames' eyebrows rose. "Are you forgetting Nash married a local girl?"

"You know what I mean." Roman pointed at him, chuckling. "Lot of girls wouldn't mind getting more attention from you and Flint, but you only have eyes for the Lee sisters. Or so I've heard." His dark eyes widened at Ames' expression. "Hoh, boy! That's one rumor confirmed." He punched him lightly on the shoulder before taking off.

Laura was already seated at a table when Ames arrived at the restaurant. She excitedly waved him over.

He was grinning from ear to ear as he strode her way. She was in one of her elf costumes, though she'd ditched the pointy hat. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders in rich waves, framing her creamy features to perfection.

"Man, it's good to see you!" Without thinking, he dipped his head over hers. At the last minute, he stopped himself from claiming her mouth. Instead, he tangled one hand in her silky hair and gave it a playful tug as he leaned in for a hug.

"You're thinking about kissing me again." Her breathless giggle surrounded him like a warm caress as he took a seat on the stool across from her. They were at one of the bar-high tables on the outer edge of the room.

"Always." He saw no point in lying about it. "So, what's new in your life?"

She sat forward, beaming a happy smile at him. "My parents have started production on my newest toy designs. They plan to debut them at the Romance in the Air craft fair in June." She waved her hands expressively. "Weddings, babies, heirloom toys…it's a loose fit, but it'll work."

He soaked in her smile, glad to see her so happy. She deserved this. Reaching for her hand, he husked, "That's great news." To his joy, she allowed him to lace their fingers together.

Glancing shyly down at their joined hands, she murmured, "People are going to talk."

He couldn't have cared less. "Let them."

A waitress breezed their way with a pair of iced teas.

"It's raspberry infused," Laura warned, looking like she was trying not to laugh. "Which may put them in the froo-froo category."

"Probably." He reached for his glass and raised it in a toast. "To the success of my favorite toy designer."

"Thank you." She tipped her glass against his.

The slice of lemon perched on the rim of his glass got dislodged in the process and toppled into her glass.

Laughing, she took a sip. "I think it's a sign," she declared softly, raising her glass again.

He smirked. "To making lemonade together?" Life sure had dealt both of them enough lemons.

"I was going to say to us." She smiled as they clinked glasses together again. "But that'll work, too."

"To us. I like the sound of that." Two weeks from now, his and his brothers' current contract at Castellano's would run out. Though they were already negotiating the terms of a rodeo show for a couple of weeks this summer, the three of them were undoubtedly going to have to spend more time at Canyon Creek Ranch in the coming days. There was no way around it now that their foreman had given his notice.

He could only hope his increased absences from Pinetop wouldn't hurt the progress he'd been making lately in his relationship with Laura.

The next day

Though it was a Tuesday evening,Castellano's was nearly packed. By the weekend, they expected to be sold out again. The fact that the Carson brothers continued to pull record crowds was going to make it all the more difficult to determine what came next in their careers.

For now, though, Ames needed to focus on tonight's rodeo comedy routine. The storyline involved a couple of dude ranch guests played by him and Flint. They were trying to learn how to be real cowboys under the laugh-out-loud tutelage of a salty range rider played by Nash.

He waited on the back of his bronco in the chute. It wasn't an actual rodeo. Everything they did was strictly for entertainment purposes. There were no other riders competing against him, and the strap around his horse was strictly for show. It wasn't the least bit cinched in. He'd literally taught his horse to rock and buck on command. At the end of their ride, no official score would be assessed.

He was less than thrilled to discover that the wrangler assisting him inside the chute this evening was the uncommunicative Oak. The young cowboy refused to make eye contact. The few times Ames had attempted to strike up a conversation with him, he'd mumbled a response that Ames couldn't quite make out. However, he seemed comfortable with his duties. That's all that really mattered.

Oak abruptly leaned down to fiddle with the decorative strap on the bronco Ames was seated on. "It's a little loose," he muttered, giving it a swift yank.

"What are you doing?" Ames gave him an exasperated look. "Now it's too tight." Before he could signal to the wranglers manning the gate that he needed an extra few seconds to make an adjustment, the whistle blew.

His bronco shot from the chute into the ring, rocking energetically back and forth. Ames found himself gripping the rope as tightly as he would have during an actual competition. He hadn't prompted the horse to do anything yet. The creature's current snorting and bucking were all on his own.

Not good. It dawned on Ames that he was on a genuine bronc ride tonight, brought on by the too-tight strap. Unfortunately, there were no pickup riders waiting on the sidelines to ride to his aid like there had been in the past.

I'm on my own. He managed to flick a warning look in Nash's direction, but there was no guarantee that the fictitious dude ranch owner would interpret his silent SOS in time.

The horse's movements grew more frenzied as he attempted to rock the cinch loose from his belly. Precious seconds ticked past — four, five, six…

People shot to their feet across the amphitheater, cheering Ames on. All he could do was grip the rope and hope for an opportunity to leap off and make a run for the gate.

A thunder of hooves moved in his direction. Out of the corners of his eyes, he watched his brothers converge on him from both sides. Nash reached him first, angling his mount in the same direction as the bucking bronco.

"Hop on," he shouted.

Ames didn't think. He simply acted. Moments later, he was hanging onto the back of Nash's horse, being half pulled and half dragged toward the edge of the ring. He leaped and scissored his legs at the same time and managed to land on his feet, jogging the rest of the way to the gate.

Roman was holding it open, hollering his name and shooing him to safety. Oak was nowhere in sight. Flint was right behind Ames, herding the angry and frightened bronco from the ring. The gate clanged shut behind them.

The audience erupted into even louder cheers, clapping like crazy over the lifelike performance. They'd never need to know just how real it had been.

It took all hands on deck to subdue the bronco and remove the strap. Ames rubbed the horse's neck and spoke soothingly to him until he calmed down. His reddish-brown coat was slick with sweat.

"You did good, boy!" He kept up a constant stream of praise as he led him down the ramp to the stables. Nash followed on his horse. They halted and faced each other at the bottom of the ramp.

Nash was scowling ferociously. "What happened up there?"

"Oak happened." Ames spoke through gritted teeth. "Right before I left the chute, he said something about the strap being loose. Before I realized what he was up to, he reached down and gave it a yank, cinching it way too tight. The whistle rang, and you saw the rest."

"Where is he now?" Nash swung his head around, angrily searching for the wrangler who'd put his brother in such a predicament. The young cowboy was nowhere in sight.

"It's a good thing we've ridden bucking broncos before." Ames lifted his arm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead.

"That doesn't justify what Oak did." Nash's jaw tightened. "I'll be having a sit-down with Roman over this. Angel, too."

"That won't be necessary." Roman jogged down the ramp to catch up with them. "We're gonna handle this just as soon as we locate Oak."

But their newest wrangler was no longer in the theater. He'd emptied out his work locker, and his truck was missing from the parking lot.

He was gone.

Five minutes earlier

Laura collapsedin her seat as the crowd roared around her and her sister. She could barely breathe. Something had gone terribly wrong out there in the ring. She'd never before seen Ames turn so white beneath his tan. Sure, he'd played it off like the whole bronco bucking routine was part of the show, but she knew better. His horse had never jerked around so crazily before. It was like he was possessed or something.

Lucy jumped up and down in excitement beside her. Glancing down, she finally noticed that Laura had taken a seat.

She plopped down in the seat beside Laura, shouting to be heard. "What's wrong?"

Laura shook her head, still too shaken to speak.

Frowning, Lucy angled her head like she was ready to leave. "Let's get out of here." The crowd was finally starting to quiet down a little. "Show's almost over, anyway."

Laura stood on knees that felt shaky. She whipped out her cell phone as they exited the amphitheater and shot off a text to Ames.

Are you okay?

His response came back in seconds. I'm good. Where are you?

She hoped that meant he had time to see her before they took off. Heading to the Jeep. And you?

Lucy glanced her way as they headed for the Jeep. "You chatting it up again with your not quite a boyfriend?"

Laura frowned at her phone screen. "I'm trying to figure out what happened to his horse."

Her sister gave her an incredulous look. "Ames dug in his heels and made him jump a little. It was just for show."

"No, it was more than that. Something was wrong." Laura was sure of it. Her stomach was still in knots over it. "Didn't you see the look on his face?"

"No. I was too busy watching his horse. He was really going to town, wasn't he?"

"He was out of control," Laura snapped.

Lucy blinked in surprise. "Ames and his brothers are champion bronc riders. He was in complete control out there. Trust me."

Was he? Laura was far from an expert on horses, but she was pretty good at reading Ames, and her gut was telling her that something hadn't gone right for him in the ring tonight.

The Personnel Only door flew open in the back of the building. Ames appeared, scanning the parking lot. Flint was right beside him.

Laura waved both arms at them. "Over here," she called.

The two cowboys jogged in their direction.

Ignoring Flint, Laura flew up to Ames and threw her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder. She was overwhelmed with gratitude that he was safe.

He lifted her feet off the ground, spinning her in a full circle before setting her down again. "Thanks for coming tonight," he muttered huskily against her hair.

She couldn't believe he was pretending like everything was okay when she knew it wasn't. "Are you hurt?" She anxiously ran her hands up and down his arms.

"Nope." He hugged her close again.

"What happened out there?" She leaned back in his embrace to gaze up at him, silently begging him to tell her the truth.

He and Flint exchanged a look that was hard to read. Then he blew out a resigned breath. "One of the newbie wranglers pulled the cinch too tight on my bronc. For all intents and purposes, he gave me a real rodeo ride tonight. Fortunately, my brothers realized what was going on and helped me rein him in."

She felt the color leave her face. "I knew something was wrong the second they started doing the pickup rider stuff. You guys normally just clown around out there, but tonight felt different."

"It was." Flint raised his hat to run a hand through his hair. "And now the punk who sabotaged the strap is MIA."

Laura scanned Ames' features. "You think he did it intentionally?"

"Who knows?" Ames shrugged. "It sure looks bad for him now that he's missing."

"No kidding," Flint growled. "It'll be interesting to see if his buddy also turns up missing."

"What buddy?" Lucy glanced curiously between the two of them.

Ames gave his youngest brother a warning head shake.

Laura watched them engage in what appeared to be a silent debate. "What aren't you telling us?" She pulled away from his embrace to slap her hands down on her hips.

Ames shook his head again. "Pointing fingers won't accomplish anything. We need proof before accusing anyone of anything."

"Proof for what?" she demanded.

"Good grief!" Flint threw his hands into the air. "Just tell them already. The guy isn't worth protecting."

"Who's not worth protecting?" Laura tapped the toe of her boot impatiently.

"Your ex, that's who," Flint exploded. "The guy is a complete loser. I'm not sure why Ames is going to so much trouble to protect his name."

"Uh…maybe because your brother cares about my sister's feelings?" Lucy took a threatening step toward Flint, looking like she wanted to slap him.

Laura was more confused than ever. "What does Brex have to do with anything? I didn't even see him here tonight."

"He's pals with the punk who cinched the strap to tight on Ames' horse," Flint growled. "His only friend in town, as it turns out."

"What friend?" Laura still had no idea who they were talking about.

"Some guy named Oak. He blew into town a few months ago, whining about needing a job. Angel was kind enough to give him one, and he's been working as a wrangler for the indoor rodeo ever since."

"Oak?" Laura sought out Lucy's gaze. They knew a guy named Oak. And if Brex knew him, too, it had to be the same Oak.

"Yeah, like the tree." Flint's tone was derisive. "Apparently, it's short for Oakley."

Laura nervously bit her lower lip. "Is he kind of scrawny, with stringy brown hair and patched jeans?" Like Brex, he'd proudly adopted the look of a gypsy.

"Sounds about right." Flint eyed her speculatively. "Why?"

"Because we know him." Laura wasn't sure what Oak was doing in Pinetop or why he was hobnobbing with Brex. "He traveled in the same caravan we did. His parents sell homemade soap and candles in craft fairs across the country." They'd never made much money at it. Oak's mom did most of the work, while his dad scared off most of their customers with his short temper and loud mouth.

Ames' blue gaze narrowed in thought. "So what's he doing in Pinetop?"

"And where is he now?" Flint's hands fisted like he was ready for a fight.

They were valid questions. Unfortunately, no one had any answers.