Page 35 of Cowboy Stolen Kiss for Christmas

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.

CHAPTER 8: FIREWORKS

4th of July

As July rolled around, the shop owners on Main Street gave their window displays a full makeover. Their red, green, and white light strands were replaced with red, white, and blue ones. Christmas trees remained up, but they were redecorated with U.S. flags, liberty bells, stars, and Uncle Sam hats.

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