Her Montana Cowboy. Valerie Hansen
Ryan said aloud, “broncs and bulls don’t know the difference or care how many events I’ve won. They just want to buck me off.”
Which was why he should be back at the stock pens taking another look at the caliber of animals he’d draw from later today. And he’d go soon, he promised himself.
Right now, the focus of the crowd seemed to be shifting. People onstage were getting to their feet, and it looked as if Julie was about to accompany the mayor and his delegation to wherever their ancestors had buried the time capsule.
As Ryan observed the area, he noted a black-and-white poster displayed on an easel. It was a fuzzy blowup of an old, damaged sepia photograph. Five men in dark suits, cowboy boots and bowler hats were leaning on shovels and grinning at the camera. Behind them was the same bandstand that still stood, but the nearby trees were a lot smaller. He judged the wooden box in the foreground to be about two foot square, give or take. At least they knew what the time capsule looked like.
Curious, he followed the procession to a shady area behind the back of the old bandstand. There, the ground was dry and had been trampled by so many feet it would have been impossible to tell exactly where the current digging was going to take place if there had not been a cement marker.
He eased to the side, placed his back against a wooden wall flanking the rear of the stage, folded his arms and waited. He’d abandoned any notion of finding Julie in that milling crowd when he’d seen how difficult it was going to be. Therefore, he’d set himself up so she could locate him. Assuming she wanted to.
Ryan’s pulse jumped. Apparently, she did.
A smile began to lift the corners of his mouth and had spread into a wide grin by the time she managed to work her way to him. “Hi,” he drawled. “I wondered where you’d gone after you came off the stage.”
“I’m supposed to be up front with Dad and the others for a photo op. I’m playing hooky.”
“Something tells me you don’t like being in the spotlight.”
“You’re right. I only do it to please my folks, and then not always. I’m here today because I respect my father and want to support him. And Jasper Gulch.”
“You’ve lived here all your life.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. And I plan to stay. It’s more than home, it’s where I have my business and where my family is.” She smiled wistfully. “What about you? Where does your family live?”
“My mother’s in Bozeman.”
“Wonderful. Then you can visit her while you’re in the neighborhood.”
“I suppose.” He deliberately changed the subject and took her elbow. “Come on. Let’s go try to find a place where we can see the time capsule when they bring it up.”
“Okay.”
Julie gave no sign she was surprised by his abrupt action. Good. He didn’t like to talk about his past or what was left of his family. Growing up with an absent father and then losing his only brother in that terrible crash had been bad enough without having to explain to an outsider.
Ryan’s jaw clenched. Even visiting his mother briefly was hard. Seeing her again rekindled all the feelings of loss and anger and guilt he’d borne for so long. He’d never attempt to describe all that to anybody else, of course. Just feeling it himself was painful.
A stump amidst the grove of remaining trees caught Ryan’s attention and he pointed. “That way. Next to that bunch of reporters.”
Julie smiled up at him. “I see what you mean. Think we’ll both fit on the stump?”
“No, but I’ll make sure you don’t fall off,” he promised.
Taking her hand, he helped her step up onto the rough, weathered surface and steadied her. “Can you see now?”
“Yes! They’ve moved the marker that was on top and have dug almost down to the concrete vault. As soon as they pry up the lid and get the actual box out, the committee will carry it back to the stage and open it in front of everybody.”
Watching her pretty face, Ryan noticed her smile fading and a scowl taking the place of her earlier elation. Her hold tightened. She glanced at him, clearly troubled.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” he asked.
Julie was acting as if she was in shock. Flashes from cameras blinded everyone.
The TV crew had surged forward and one of them was shoving a microphone on a boom at the dignitaries. Someone was counting backward, “Three, two, one…” preparing to broadcast live.
“We’re here in Jasper Gulch for the unearthing of their time capsule and the mayor has just opened the vault!” a female reporter shouted into her microphone as the crowd began to rumble with an undercurrent of disbelief and astonishment. “Get a shot of that hole,” the woman yelled aside to her camera crew before returning to her broadcast. “They’ve just opened the sealed vault, ladies and gentlemen. It’s empty!”
Julie saw the reporter gesturing as the spectators pushed in around the site.
She held out her hands to Ryan and he helped her safely step down from the stump.
“What could you see?” he asked.
“It’s gone,” Julie told him in a hoarse whisper. “The vault is empty. The capsule’s been stolen!”
Chapter Three
Julie lagged behind with Ryan as the crowd dispersed, following her father and the rest of the centennial committee around to the front of the bandstand. She wanted to look at the empty concrete vault herself, as if needing proof that the time capsule was really missing.
“There’s no way anybody could find clues here now,” Ryan observed. “This dirt has been trampled by too many boots.” He was crouching next to the open hole while curious onlookers slowly passed by, whispering, pointing and conjecturing.
“I know.” Julie was more than disappointed. She was crushed. “What a shame. Opening the capsule was one of our main events. I can’t imagine who would have bothered it.”
Dusting off his hands, Ryan straightened. “One thing you might want to ask yourself is if it was taken recently or pilfered a long time ago.”
“I’d never thought of wondering why the dirt looked freshly disturbed. I just assumed it was loose because somebody had prepared the site for easier digging when the TV cameras were rolling.”
“That’s possible,” he replied with an arch of his dark eyebrows. “It seems likely that the theft occurred after everybody was reminded that the box existed. The old-timers who buried it in the first place knew what was inside. Folks today probably didn’t, unless that rickety old guy I saw you with earlier today was alive back then.”
His lazy smile warmed her and temporarily alleviated some of the tension. Julie began to smile again. “Rusty Zidek. He’s a fixture around Jasper Gulch. I’ll do you a favor and not tell him you just said he was rickety. He’s proud of being in his nineties.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Ryan replied. “If I were his age and still that spry, I’d brag about it, too.”
She grew pensive. “You know, even if the original records of the burial of that box have been lost, it’s possible Rusty remembers rumors from when he was a boy. It might be worth asking him. I’ll suggest it to Dad in case he hasn’t already thought of it.”
“Okay.” Ryan checked his watch. “I hate to miss any of this excitement, but time’s getting short. I’d better head over to the arena and see to my bareback riggin’.”
“Where do you fall in the schedule?” Julie asked, fully intending to watch him ride every chance she got, as promised.
“I’m