Page 31 of Cowboy Stolen Kiss for Christmas

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…?”

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