The New Cowboy. Rebecca Winters

The New Cowboy - Rebecca Winters


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now on. I agree. Welcome home. You make a great addition to the family.” He clapped Zane on the shoulder before climbing in behind the wheel.

      Zane watched them drive off before he said good-night to Connor and Liz. They were taking Ralph home. “You can count on me helping you guys with the big move into your new house on Saturday.” With all the family pitching in, Avery would have to be there. “I don’t have to be on official duty until Monday. That’ll give me time to do the things I want and settle in.”

      Connor’s brown eyes lit up. “You’re on. You have no idea how good it is to see you and know you’re not leaving again.”

      With everyone gone he walked back into the house. Millie was cleaning up the kitchen while Matt straightened the living room.

      “You two go on home. I’ll finish up. I can’t thank you enough for throwing this party together. It meant the world to me.”

      Matt was all smiles. “We wanted to do this for you.”

      “Tell you what. In the morning I’m having breakfast with Jarod and his family. Afterward I’ll saddle up Striker and join you at the pasture so you can give me my next ranching lesson.”

      “It’ll be a pleasure.”

      He walked them out, then locked up and headed for the shower. It had been a red-letter day for him and a long drive. He was tired, but when he got in bed, his mind wouldn’t shut off. The vision of Avery coming out of the ranch house with the other man holding on to her arm refused to leave him alone.

      Eleven o’clock wasn’t late. If, as Jarod had inferred, she barely knew the guy, Zane imagined she might not be home for a long time while they took the time to get better acquainted. A man had to be blind not to be attracted to her.

      Whatever was going on between them, Zane wanted to block it from his mind. It had been bad enough all these months while he’d wondered about her. But to actually see her with another guy had set his teeth on edge. Sensing that sleep would be a long time in coming, he got up and went into the den.

      He hadn’t had a chance to check his email yet. There were four messages. One was sent from Ken, the field manager in Glasgow, who said he was sorry to see him go and wished him the best.

      The second one came from Margaret Rogers, a ranger in Glasgow who was great at her job. They’d had dinner half a dozen times over the past year when they’d been out on a case. Wondering what she wanted, he opened her message.

      I can’t believe you’ve been transferred! I got in to the office this afternoon and learned you’d been reassigned. Just like that you’re gone!

      What a shock. You’re a cool one, Zane Lawson. I was hoping you’d stick around for a long time, but Ken told me you always wanted to transfer to the Billings office. I didn’t know that. What has Billings got that we don’t? Don’t you know it’s a hot spot for criminal activity of the Indian artifacts kind? One of my out-of-state sources says there’s a mole in the BIA linked to problems in the Montana sector. Watch your back.

      That news didn’t surprise him. Zane appreciated the information, but he let out a relieved sigh that his transfer had come before he’d been forced to tell Margaret that he wasn’t interested in her. Though, when he’d never asked her out, she had to have known a relationship between them was hopeless, but she was an excellent ranger he trusted.

      He replied to her message. In answer to your question, I’ve come home to the people I love and have missed. You’re a fine ranger. Thanks for the heads-up. I wish you the best of luck in the future. Ranger Lawson.

      The last two came from Sanders in Billings. He’d enclosed several case files for Zane to study and had marked them top priority. They had to do with vandalism and thefts at several Crow archaeological sites. Margaret had been right on the mark. The information forwarded to the bureau by the local police was fairly detailed. Sanders had charged Zane to find the culprits and arrest them.

      He gave the first one a cursory glance. It involved a tepee ring site that had been desecrated. Scanning the second one, the name Absarokee leaped out at him. That was the town where Avery was doing her most recent work. Sadie had kept him up-to-date on everyone in both families. He read the background information with renewed interest.

      For nearly a decade between 1875 and 1884, the Crow Indian Reservation was located on East Rosebud Creek south of the present-day town of Absarokee, Montana. Population 1,200. Although the tribe moved farther east in 1884, the nine years of living at Absarokee were times of monumental change for the Crow people.

      The launch of a road improvement project for Montana Highway 78, which runs through the Crow Indian Reservation’s historic Absarokee site, was the impetus for a major archaeological data recovery investigation by the Federal Highway Administration and the Montana Department of Transportation in consultation and cooperation with the Crow Nation.

      The team used geographical plotting software to translate the results into a map. The findings revealed the likely presence of artifacts. This area was a transitional point in the history and culture of the Apsaalooké people, thus making it a critical site for their people.

      A year in advance of MDT’s planned highway reconstruction, a data recovery excavation within the right-of-way limits and on adjacent private land has uncovered significant information, including thousands of artifacts that reveal glimpses into the everyday life of the Crow people more than a century ago.

      Avery was intimately associated with this project. She would have invaluable information about the handpicked crew assembled to excavate sacred Crow ground. Things couldn’t be working out better. He was jubilant to be armed with a legitimate plan to get close to her through his first case. Tomorrow couldn’t get here soon enough. He turned off the computer and wandered through the house to the bedroom he’d turned into a nursery for Ryan.

      Now that his nephew was growing up, Zane needed to buy him some new toys for when he slept over. He wanted to take him shopping for some outfits. He ached for children of his own. To Zane, the greatest tragedy in his failed marriage was the fact that Nedra lost interest in having children.

      He’d married her at twenty-three when he was already a SEAL. Though he’d warned her of the pitfalls, she’d begged for the marriage and promised to remain strong and independent when he had to be deployed in a war zone. She had a great job with a pharmaceutical company and promises of rising higher.

      They’d mapped out their future. He’d assumed the stability of marriage and a family had been her driving force. Unfortunately, she’d never conceived. The fertility specialist they’d consulted hadn’t found anything wrong with either of them. Perhaps the stress of Zane’s job had prevented conception. He’d suggested they get therapy to help them, but Nedra wanted none of that.

      It wasn’t until the bitter end of their marriage that she admitted she’d been on the pill for two years without telling him. Her sin of omission was the biggest shocker for him to face.

      When she’d finally admitted what she’d done, he’d reached the breaking point. With that hope gone, there was nothing more to fight for. Clearly she’d wanted out of the marriage with no pregnancy issues so she could have fun and excitement with the new man in her life who worked nine to five and then came home. She’d met someone at her job who was going places.

      But that was old baggage. After turning out the light, Zane went back to his bedroom. At this point he was in a new phase of his life. He’d had a year to think about it and planned to reach out for what he wanted. Zane wasn’t twenty-three anymore, a time when he’d worried that getting married might be a mistake while he was in the SEALs.

      This time he knew exactly what he wanted. He knew the woman he wanted. Zane had glimpsed Avery from a distance tonight. He was still sizzling from the bolt of electricity that had traveled through him at the sight of her in that green shirt and jeans.

      Tomorrow he planned to seek her out, and would use official business as the reason he wanted to talk to her. It was a springboard to the relationship he intended to have with her. One day


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