A Cowboy's Touch Read Free Page A

and daughter were gone, and Aunt Lucy sat in her rocker sewing a half-finished doll.
    “I met a friend of yours: Maddy. Her bike was stolen down at the market, and I told her I’d give her a lift home. You think her dad would mind?”
    “Oh no, the poor dear. She loved that bike.”
    “I told her I’d help her track it down.”
    “Well, if anyone can find it, you can.”
    “She seems young to be wandering through town alone.”
    “She’s eleven, and this is a very safe town. Why, the stolen bike will probably make the front page of the Moose Creek Chronicle .” Aunt Lucy eyed the bald doll in her lap. “Now, what color hair do you want, Victoria? . . . Oh yes, black will suit you very well.” She pulled a skein of fuzzy black yarn from her bag, then nudged her thick glasses up on her nose.
    “She seems kind of lonely. Maddy, I mean,” Abigail added, in case her aunt thought she referred to the doll. “She said her mom died.”
    “She is lonely, I think. Comes to the house sometimes to visit, her and destiny.”
    Destiny? Her aunt said the strangest things. “So you don’t think Maddy’s dad would mind my driving her home?”
    “Oh no, I’ve known Wade since he moved here. He’s famous, you know. Voted Sexiest Man Alive by one of those movie star magazines.”
    Sure he was. And Abigail won the Pulitzer last year.
    Aunt Lucy smoothed the black yarn for Vanessa. Or was it Victoria? All the names were running together in Abigail’s head.
    “Did the little girl find a blond doll?”
    “Oh yes, she adopted Lillian. They’re a perfect match.”
    “They were on their way to Yellowstone, they said? How far away is it? I noticed the Moose Creek sign called the town the Gateway to Yellowstone.”
    Aunt Lucy nodded. “Used to be, dear, but then they built other highways into the park. Most folks don’t come this way anymore. Mayor Wadell is trying to change that, but he’s not having much luck.”
    “It’s a quaint town.”
    “There’s been many a fuss over a national advertising budget, but those tightwads on the council won’t spend a dime. Meanwhile, shops like mine are struggling. But God has it under control. He’s taken care of me this long.”
    Abigail frowned. “If only people knew about it.” It was a shame for the town to go unnoticed. And for the shops to struggle. She looked around the quiet store and was sure it had seen better days.
    Well, she couldn’t solve the world’s problems, or even Moose Creek’s, but she could give one little girl a ride home.
    She snatched up the keys. “I’ll run Maddy home.”
    “All right, dear.”
    Abigail headed out to her aunt’s old yellow VW bug. Who would steal a lonely little girl’s bike? She didn’t know, but one thing was sure. She was going to find out.

3
    W ade Ryan felt the same way every year when calving season was over: proud and disappointed. There was still plenty of work left before summer. He and the neighboring ranchers would pitch in with branding, vaccinating, and earmarking, and then another summer would begin.
    Wade closed the pen, letting his hands linger on the splintered rail. The cows and their calves made soft lowing sounds. Twilight swallowed the valley, and a bright moon rose over the Gallatin Range.
    He should get inside to Maddy and relieve Greta. His stomach let out a rowdy grumble, reminding him he’d worked past suppertime again. Turning, he tried to tell himself he was glad that calving season was over and summer perched on his doorstep.
    But summer meant Maddy was home, meant another nanny was coming, meant worrying about his daughter and how she spent her time. She was growing up, getting to the age where a girl needed a mom. Even he could see that.
    Wade steered his thoughts a different direction. Today had enough worries of its own. He’d hired a young preschool teacher, who was off for the summer, to look after Maddy this year, and he was sure the girl would be good for his daughter. Well, as sure as you