When All My Dreams Come True Read online

  “Open the cover and you’re thrust into action. Before you catch your breath, you’re swept into the character’s lives. You’ve got to love an author who helps you see, hear, smell, taste, and touch with her characters’ senses—not to mention hope, fear, cry, and rejoice with them. Janelle Mowery takes her readers along for the ride.”

  —MARCIA GRUVER,

  author of the Texas Fortunes series

  “What do you get when you merge a spunky heroine who dresses like a boy with a struggling Colorado rancher? Janelle Mowery’s When All My Dreams Come True. Action, adventure, romance, intrigue—readers will find all of these and more in this beautifully written story. Mowery proves that you can take the girl out of the denim, but you can’t take the denim out of the girl!”

  —JANICE (HANNA) THOMPSON,

  author of Love Finds You in Poetry, Texas

  “Janelle Mowery’s talent for spinning a memorable and satisfying yarn is flawless. With characters that will remain with you long after the last page is turned, this novel is a must-read!”

  —KATHLEEN Y’BARBO,

  author of The Confidential Life of Eugenia Cooper

  WHEN ALL MY

  DREAMS COME TRUE

  JANELLE MOWERY

  HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

  EUGENE, OREGON

  Cover design by Left Coast Design, Portland, Oregon

  Cover photo © Akihiro Sugimoto / Aflo / Getty Images

  Back cover author photo by Katrina Ashburn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  WHEN ALL MY DREAMS COME TRUE

  Copyright © 2011 by Janelle Mowery

  Published by Harvest House Publishers

  Eugene, Oregon 97402

  www.harvesthousepublishers.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Mowery, Janelle.

  When all my dreams come true / Janelle Mowery.

  p. cm.—(Colorado runaway series; bk. 1)

  ISBN 978-0-7369-2807-6 (pbk.)

  1. Ranchers—Fiction. 2. Ranch life—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3613.O92W47 2011

  813’.6—dc22

  2010030864

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America

  11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 / LB-NI / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  To my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,

  the author and perfecter of faith,

  who endured the cross for all.

  And to Rodney, my one true love,

  who shows me how to find joy in each day.

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  EXCERPT FROM WHEN LOVE GETS IN THE WAY

  ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My deepest thanks to those who played a part in helping me with this story: Tammy Ayers, Marcia Gruver, Elizabeth Ludwig, Rachel Moon, Rod Morris, Sandra Robbins, MerriDee Shumski, and Nancy Toback.

  A special thanks to Harvest House Publishers, who believed in me and this story and took me into their loving family.

  And finally, to my agent, Sandra Bishop. Your hard work and dedication deserve much more than a simple thank you. I’m honored to be working with you.

  ONE

  Colorado Territory 1872

  I’ll be dead in a minute. Maybe less.

  Bobbie McIntyre spurred her horse. “Faster, Mack. Hurry.” She peeked over her shoulder, saw the man’s gun poised at her back. Her heart thudded harder than the beat of Mack’s hooves.

  “Go, Mack!” The wind swallowed her plea.

  The bandit was gaining ground fast. She leaned lower over the saddle. The cold mountain air blurred her vision and whistled past her ears. Mack’s chest heaved and sweat streamed down his neck. He stumbled, then righted again.

  She veered left toward the boulders, pulled her pistol from her holster, then turned in the saddle and aimed.

  Something slammed into her back. Her gun blasted before it slipped from her grasp. She hit the ground, knocking the breath from her. A heavy weight pressed her down, then rolled off her. She lay dazed.

  What happened?

  The click of a gun hammer set fire to panic. She scooped up a fistful of soil and stones, pushed to her knees…and stared into the steel barrel of a pistol. The dirt in her hand trickled through her fingers to the ground.

  She peered around for her own gun and faced another barrel. Two men. At least that answered her question of what threw her from the saddle. The second man must’ve been hiding behind the boulder she’d planned to use for protection. She stilled while her mind scrambled for a way out of her mess.

  The tall, scruffy man grinned. “Well, looky here, Jace. We chased a man and caught us a gal.”

  Jace? Could this be Jace Kincaid?

  The man named Jace shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. An outlaw is an outlaw be it male or female.”

  The tall man snorted. “Outlaw? This slip of a woman?”

  “Well, look at her. She’s sure not dressed like a girl.”

  Bobbie grabbed her hat out of the dirt, resisting the urge to fling it at Jace, and shoved it on her head as she stood. “I don’t know who you expected to find, but I ain’t her. And I sure ain’t no outlaw.”

  The tremor in her voice didn’t make her sound as ominous and convincing as she’d hoped.

  “Get her horse, Grant,” Jace said. “Let’s head on back.”

  “So we’re not gonna hang her?”

  Bobbie felt the blood drain from her face. “Hang? For what? Look, I’m—

  Jace swung his pistol toward her again. “Stay quiet, miss. You’re already in trouble for prowling around on land that isn’t yours.”

  “This is the Double K, ain’t it?”

  He scratched his forehead with his thumb. “Yes.”

  “And you’re Jace Kincaid?”

  Jace squinted and cocked his head. “Right again. But then, I’d expect you’d know that, what with all you’ve been up to.”

  “I ain’t been up to nothing.” She glared at him, brushing dirt and dead grass from her coat sleeves.

  Jace took a deep breath and stood straighter, making him appear even more threatening. By the look of him, he could wrestle a steer and lasso a calf at the same time.

  “Why’d you chase me, anyway?” she said. “I wasn’t prowling. I was on my way to meet you.”

  “Likely story.” He motio
ned to the horses. “Mount up. The next man you meet will be the sheriff.”

  Bobbie scowled and took several angry breaths through her nose. “Fine. Maybe he’ll listen to me.”

  Grant lifted the strap on her saddlebags.

  “Hold on there, that’s private,” Bobbie said.

  He smirked. “Not anymore.”

  A gun barrel to her back kept her from taking more than a step. She raised her arms. “Those are my things.”

  Jace moved beside her. “Leave it be, Grant.”

  “I only plan to look.”

  “I said quit.”

  The tone of Jace’s voice would’ve halted a stampede. Grant stepped back, hands poised in surrender, though a trace of a smile still pulled at his lips.

  “Let’s mount up,” Jace said.

  Bobbie looked around for her pistol, and Jace pushed the barrel into her back. “Get moving.”

  “I want my gun.”

  Grant pulled it from his waistband and handed it to Jace. “You mean this?”

  Jace holstered his pistol and then pointed her gun at her nose. “Mount up.”

  She headed toward Mack.

  “Hold it.”

  Jace’s growl halted her in her tracks. He tucked her gun into his belt, jerked a piece of rope from his saddle, and tied her hands in front, then moved past her and yanked her rifle from the scabbard.

  “Now you can get on.”

  Hoofbeats pounded toward them, and Jace turned to look.

  “Great. Hank Willet and his two henchmen. Just what I need.”

  The lead man astride a dappled horse reined to a stop in front of them and gave Bobbie the once-over. Long gray hair sprawled from under his fine black hat, and his leathery face showed the number of winters spent in the brutal mountain wind. He leaned his forearms on the horn of his fancy saddle as if he had all day.

  “Kincaid.”

  Jace pulled his gloves from his coat pocket. “What can I do for you, Hank?”

  Hank bumped his hat up with his thumb, and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Heard some gunshots. Thought you might need help. I always figured a ranch like this was too much for a boy.”

  Jace smacked his gloves against his thigh. “I’ve been doing just fine without you, Hank.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard. At the rate your herd is dropping, you’ll be out of the cattle business by summer.”

  “They aren’t dropping from lack of care. Someone’s been stealing them.”

  One corner of Hank’s mouth pulled back in a sneer. “Call it what you want, boy. The fact remains that you’re in over your head.” Hank eyed the rope on Bobbie’s wrists. “Who’s your friend?”

  “She’s not a friend.”

  “Obviously. Having trouble with your women now?” Hank snorted and slapped his leg. “You sure know how to pick ’em.” He tipped his hat. “I’ll leave you boys to your fun.”

  He nudged his mount into a gallop and departed with the two other men the way he came.

  The scowl on Jace’s face deepened with the glare he pinned on her. He grasped her arm and led her toward Mack. Before she could climb onto the saddle, he spun her around to face him.

  “I’ve got to admit that you don’t fit the type of person I figure could be callous enough to steal another man’s cattle.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as he leaned toward her. “But sometimes it’s the innocent-looking people who need watching the most. So I have to ask, just what’s your business here?”

  “I have a note for you.”

  “Is that right?” He took a step closer. “Let’s see it.”

  “It’s in my coat pocket.” With a nod of her head, she indicated the pocket on the right side of her jacket.

  Jace reached carefully into her pocket and found the piece of paper, which he took out, unfolded, and began to read. While he read, she watched his face. His eyes widened as they traced the lines scrawled over the page and then narrowed when he glanced up.

  “You’re Bobbie McIntyre?

  She licked her dry lips. “Yes.”

  “From Roy Simms’s ranch?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  His gaze hardened.

  “Is that a problem?”

  The muscles along his jaw jumped like a horse with a burr under its saddle. He crushed the letter in his fist and shook his head. “You bet there’s a problem. I was expecting a man.”

  TWO

  Unbelievable.

  Early this morning, Jace had told Grant his day couldn’t get any worse. But proof of his error stood in front of him in the form of a female with defiance flaring in her eyes. He’d learned his lesson. A comment like that would only set him up for something worse.

  So now what? In his note, Roy praised Bobbie as an excellent worker, all but daring him to allow her to prove herself. He might do just that. He’d deal with Roy later. In the meantime…

  “Give me your hands.”

  She narrowed her eyes and didn’t move.

  For the first time that day, Jace’s mood lightened. Who wouldn’t be cautious after being treated like a criminal? He reached for the rope. “I’d like to untie you.”

  “Whoa.” Grant put out his hand. “You sure about this? How do you know she’s who the note says she is?”

  “There’s an easy way to find out.” He looked the girl in her eyes. “What’s the name of Roy’s wife?” At her irritated sigh, he crossed his arms. “The quicker you answer—correctly—the quicker you get freed.”

  Nostrils flaring and lips tight, she raised her chin. “Maggie.”

  “And the name of his youngest daughter?”

  “He doesn’t have a daughter.”

  “Who’s his foreman?”

  This time tears appeared, and she bit down on her bottom lip. “It was Robert McIntyre.” She blinked and drew a deep breath. “Now it’s Tim Hughes.”

  For the first time, the McIntyre name struck a chord. “Robert was your father.”

  Her chin dropped to her chest.

  He shuffled his feet, scuffing the dirt into a tiny dust cloud. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She didn’t look up but nodded her acknowledgment.

  He lifted her hands and untied the rope. “Let’s go.”

  The brim of her hat raised just enough to let him see the moisture in her eyes. “You’re going to hire me?”

  The irritation from earlier returned. “I didn’t say that, but there’s no way I’m going to leave you out here alone. Roy said in the note you were a good worker…that I’d be surprised at your abilities.”

  No response. At least she wasn’t a girl who’d talk the legs off a wagon team.

  “You carried both pistol and rifle. Do you know how to use them?”

  The slightest twitch moved the corner of her mouth. “Give them back, and I’ll show you.”

  Not the response he expected. He pulled her pistol from his belt and her rifle from his scabbard. With only a slight hesitation, he handed her the weapons.

  She holstered her pistol and checked the ammunition in the rifle. “Pick a target.”

  As Jace glanced around to find an impossible shot, Grant slowly shuffled to a place behind them, putting some distance between him and this girl. Jace was inclined to do the same, but he stood his ground.

  He spotted what he wanted. “There’s a knot in the tree standing off to the left of that largest boulder. See it?”

  She squinted at the tiny target, then cast him a frown. He squelched a smile.

  Seconds later, she snapped the barrel closed with a click, hefted the rifle to her shoulder, and squeezed off a shot. What used to be the knot was now a light-colored spot where the bullet splintered the trunk. A low whistle from Grant put voice to Jace’s amazement.

  “How’d you learn to shoot like that?”

  “Daddy wanted to be sure I could defend myself. Didn’t work out so well today, though, did it?” She shoved the rifle into its scabbard. “So, do I get the job?”

&nb
sp; Jace headed for his horse. “Time to get home.”

  He climbed onto his saddle and waited for Grant and Bobbie to do the same.

  A gunshot blasted to the west. Two more followed in quick succession. Jace looked at Grant. Without a word, they raced in the direction of the trouble. Bobbie rode hard alongside them.

  They rounded the curve of a cliff and came upon Hank Willett and his two men hiding behind some boulders. One of the men sat propped against the rock with blood oozing from his shoulder.

  Hank waved his gun at them. “Get down before you get your fool heads blown off.”

  They dismounted and dashed for cover. Jace scooted close to get a better look at the bullet wound. The man would live, but he’d hurt awhile. “What happened?”

  “What does it look like? We got shot at.” Hank peered up into the hills. “Just minding our business heading home and someone blasted a hole in Morton.” He hunkered down and shook his gun in Jace’s face. “What’s going on here, boy? We’re still on your land. You got someone up there trying to get rid of your competition?”

  Jace batted the gun away from his face. “None of my men are around here. They’re all at the ranch waiting for me.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Jace’s fingers curled into fists. “They’re at the ranch.”

  Grant peered up over the boulder. “Let’s see if the shooter’s still up there.” He fired a round before Jace could say a word. No shot answered. “I say we go up and make sure.”

  Jace grabbed his arm. “You help Hank get Morton to the doctor. I’ll go up and check things out.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want your help.” Hank stood and holstered his pistol. “You’re nothing but a wagon load of trouble, and I want none of it.” He bent down and helped Morton to his feet. “Do us all a favor, Kincaid. Move on before you get us all killed.”

  Jace waited for Hank and his men to ride off before heading into the hills. After several minutes of scouting around, they found nothing. Not even hoofprints to prove anyone had been there. That fact fit right in with everything else happening on the ranch. Nothing made sense. Stolen cattle, and now a man getting shot, left him with more questions than answers. No doubt the sheriff would call on him. If not tonight then first thing in the morning. Shame of it was, Jace wouldn’t have anything to tell him.