Brooke Harper drove along winding Interstate 70 that bordered the powerful Colorado River. It seemed as if the road was carved out of granite. Through the driver’s-side window, she saw miles of lush green hillsides dotted with the rust-and-golden shades of the aspen trees that bordered the magnificent Rocky Mountains.
The scene took her breath away. Hidden Springs, Colorado, was so different from the southern Nevada landscape she’d been used to. And soon she’d be going back there. This was a short visit, so she didn’t need to get used to anything. Once she was finished with her business, she’d be on her way back to Las Vegas.
Brooke slowed her seven-year-old compact, but not her heart rate, as she approached the turnoff that led to her destination. Following the GPS’s directions, she took a side road, then after a few miles, another turn onto a gravel lane. She drove even slower through the grove of trees and was about to turn around when she came to a clearing, and the voice on the GPS announced, “You’ve reached your destination.”
Just then she saw a large metal archway that read The Bucking Q Ranch.
Her heart began to race even faster. She was here. All she had to do now was put her foot on the gas pedal, drive up to the house and ask Rory Quinn about his daughter... Laurel Quinn.
Her sister.
Brooke felt her nerves take over and her grip tightened on the steering wheel. After all these years being told her father was dead...then to have her mother confess that there was a twin sister. Or was this just one of Coralee Harper’s confused memories? Her mother had had more of those moments the past year with the progression of her disease.
Still riddled with guilt, Brooke knew she’d had no choice, after her mother kept wandering off, but to put her into a nursing home two months ago for her early-onset Alzheimer’s.
Pushing aside thoughts of Coralee, Brooke exhaled a long breath. She wasn’t here to meet her long-lost father, only to bring back her sister, Laurel Quinn, to see their mother. She was hoping to find out if Coralee’s ramblings were true.
She continued down the wide gravel road lined with pine and aspen trees that opened into a clearing where several large structures came into view: a glossy white barn and five outbuildings. A long split-rail fence ran beside a pasture housing several beautiful horses. The fence also lined the yard around a magnificent stone-and-cedar two-story house.
Brooke parked the car and climbed out, waiting for someone to come out, but the place looked deserted. She started up the lengthy drive and noticed decorative ribbons draped over the fence, each post tied with flowers. She reached the house where baskets of flowers lined the large porch.
She knew she could be interrupting something, but that didn’t stop her. She went around the house to the back and froze, seeing rows of white chairs with a white runner down the middle, leading to a floral archway. On one of the chairs, she found a program detailing for Laurel Quinn and Jack Aldrich’s nuptials. Great. She was crashing her sister’s wedding.
* * *
TRENT LANDRY RACED his truck to the Bucking Q. A lot of good it had done him to go chasing into town after Aldrich. The creep was long gone, and so was their money. He took the corner off the highway too fast and kicked gravel up behind him, but he didn’t slow down. He needed to stop Rory and Laurel from going after the runaway groom.
“Dammit!” Trent’s fist hit the wheel. He knew that something wasn’t right about the guy. “I should have listened to my gut.” A dozen years in Special Forces and he’d let a two-bit hustler run off with their money.
His cell phone rang and he pushed the button on the wheel to answer Rory’s call. “Rory, what’s going on?”
“We’re on our way to Denver. Laurel’s hell-bent on finding Jack so he can explain his disappearance. I could barely talk her into letting us go along.”
He was afraid of this. “Not a good idea, Rory. Aldrich has already broken the law. He’s not going to let anyone take him into custody.”
“I know,” Rory said, his voice an angry whisper. “But I’m the one who hired this jerk. I gave him access to my daughter. Hell, he asked me for her hand in marriage. Dammit, I need to protect Laurel now.”
Trent ran his hand over his jaw. “Okay, but you better be back in forty-eight hours, or I’m coming for you.”
“Deal.” There was a long pause. “I’m sorry about this mess, Trent, and what it’s done to our partnership. I hate to ask any more, but could you let the wedding guests know...?”
“Sure, I can handle it. We’ll talk later.”
Trent disconnected the call.
He would do anything to protect the Quinns. Years ago, his father, Wade Landry, and Rory Quinn had ridden the rodeo circuit together. After the two retired, they settled here to raise their families and cattle. Then suddenly one day their tranquility had ended, and it had all gone bad for the Landrys...
Trent quickly shook away the dark memories. He had to deal with today. He pulled up to the Quinns’ home and saw the car with Nevada plates. Who was the out-of-state guest?
“Time to find out.”
Placing his Stetson on his head, he climbed out and glanced toward the deserted barn. The men had left early to repair a stretch of downed fence, so they could get back in time to get cleaned up for the wedding. Trent thought to his own rented tux, hanging in the back of his truck. Now he had to tell everyone the ceremony wasn’t going to happen.
Trent cursed and started off around the back of the house. He was immediately greeted by rows of empty white chairs. A long white runner spanned the middle aisle, dotted with rose petals, and ending at a huge flower-covered archway where the bride and groom were to exchange vows. The real star of the show was the incredible view of the north-facing mountain range sprinkled with the fiery colors of the aspen’s fall leaves mixed with evergreen ponderosa pines. A perfect setting for a late afternoon wedding. That was if you were into believing in happily-ever-after.
Feeling the warm late September sun, Trent rolled his sleeves on his Western shirt. Time to get to work. He paused when something caught his eye. A woman walking toward him.
Great, an early wedding guest. He took a second glance and something looked familiar about her. She came up the aisle in long easy strides. Dark trousers covered her long slender legs and a cream-colored silky blouse showed off gentle curves. Her chin-length hair was a silky, golden blond with some rich highlights. When she reached him a tentative smile turned up the corners of her full mouth, causing more of a reaction than he wanted to admit.
He swallowed and asked, “May I help you with something?”
“I