that they would adapt to the move more easily. For a moment, he watched them, intent on unloading the vehicle, shoving at each other in their best, normal brother-sister fashion.
Suddenly, Lainey screeched as Daniel pulled back and raised his arm, her camera in his hand.
“Hey, maybe it’s time I learned to use this thing,” he taunted.
“Give that back, Daniel!” she yelled as the automatic camera whined and clicked several times. “Stop that! You’re wasting my film!”
“Maybe I’m creating art.” Her brother’s taunt was followed by more whines and clicks.
“Da-a-ad!”
“Give your sister her camera, Daniel,” Bart said quietly. “Now.”
Daniel lowered his arm and a livid Lainey grabbed it from him. She gave the instrument a quick once-over, as if to make certain it was all right. Her hands trembled as they ran over the camera that had belonged to her mother. Bart wanted to cuff his son, who knew exactly how important that camera was to his little sister.
“That was my last roll, you moron!” Lainey yelled. “Now I can’t take pictures of anything! I hate you! I hate this place!”
Bart’s insides wrenching, knowing it was the camera she was really freaked out about even if she wouldn’t say so, he promised, “I’ll get you more film later, honey.”
But Lainey wasn’t talking to him or her brother. She grabbed what bags she could handle and stomped toward the house. Apparently unconcerned, Daniel buried his upper body in the back of the vehicle.
Sighing, Bart finally turned his full attention to Felice.
“Where is everyone?” He avoided asking about his brothers. “Curt…Laredo…Enrique?”
“All gone. The only one left from the old days is Moon-Eye and he’s picking up supplies.”
All gone.
All driven away.
No wonder his father had been so anxious to turn the ranch into a family corporation, Bart thought. Undoubtedly, he figured that way his sons couldn’t walk out on him again.
“We’ve had a couple of hands come and go since spring,” Felice was saying. “Only one stuck—Frank Ewing.”
“That makes three of us, then, to run this place,” Bart said, realizing how impossible that would be. “I’ll have to hire a couple of cowboys right away. Unless Reed and Chance show. What are the odds there?”
“Your father seems convinced they will come home.”
Home? Would his two half-brothers think of the Curly-Q that way when Bart himself had had such a difficult time doing so? Finally, he got to it. “So, how’s Pa?”
The housekeeper avoided his eyes. “The same,” she said stiffly.
That bad. Despite the fact that he and his father had never been close—at least not since he’d been a kid—Bart’s gut constricted.
“I guess I’d better go tell him we’re here.”
“Mr. Emmett knows. He’s resting and said he would see you later.”
Bart swallowed hard and nodded. And only hoped he hadn’t brought his kids to more grief.
THE TERRITORIAL-STYLE building stood a welcome relief—a thing of gracious beauty amidst the ruins of Silver Springs. And the clack of the brass knocker against the door brought a beautiful woman to open it.
Wiping her hands on her lace-edged apron, the woman asked, “Can I help you?”
She quickly smoothed loose strands of thick blond hair from her face and checked the twist at her nape as if to make sure all was secure. The rest of her was equally elegant, Josie noted, from her pearl earrings to her Italian leather pumps.
“Are you Alcina Dale?” Josie asked in a hesitant, soft voice.
“In person.”
“I understand you rent rooms.”
Entrenched on the porch, face half-hidden by the shadow of a Stetson from which spilled her tangled light brown, shoulder-length hair, Josie felt anything but elegant herself.
“This is the Springs Bed-and-Breakfast,” Alcina agreed, eyeing the single, aging leather bag Josie had dropped on the porch.
Josie knew what she must be thinking. A typical guest of a place like this wouldn’t wear jeans ripped at the knees and dusty, down-at-the-heel cowboy boots, or a stained denim jacket slipped over a white T-shirt. But the town didn’t have a regular boarding house, which is what she’d been hoping to find. This was the best suggestion the guy at the gas station could come up with.
Suddenly she realized Alcina was staring at her waist, where an inscribed silver buckle proclaimed her initials to be J-W. Self-conscious under the close scrutiny, Josie brought a hand to her belt and quickly covered the engraving.
“The problem is…um, well…I’m looking for work.”
Alcina sighed. “The seasonal tourist rush is over, and I really can’t afford to pay for help.”
“I—I thought maybe if you had a really small room, you might let me help you around here for my keep…. All I need is a place to sleep and some food until I get a job. Then I’ll pay you with real money.”
The note of desperation in her own voice grated on Josie. Sighing, she glanced down the twisted road that made up Main Street. Nothing for her there. Only a handful of occupied storefronts waged war against abandoned buildings and rubble left behind fallen structures.
“You’re thinking you’ll find work in Silver Springs?” Alcina murmured ruefully.
“It doesn’t seem likely, does it? I’ve never seen a town still alive and so dead at the same time.”
“Decades ago, Silver Springs was thriving. That’s when my daddy and his two partners discovered a new lode of silver in the abandoned mine…but then the lode ran out. The town hung on for a while as if it could breathe life back into itself. But over time, everything changed. Businesses got tired. People got tired. Silver Springs just up and died. So, honey, unless one of the ranches around here needs a day worker, I’m afraid there’s nothing here for you.”
Having been nearly ready to plead for help, Josie firmly tightened her lips and nodded. Her eyes misted over as she stooped to lift her bag…and she winced because the movement hurt.
She noticed that Alcina had quickly glanced to the street behind her, no doubt looking for a vehicle. But she had no car and no money…no way of getting anywhere else but her thumb.
Sweeping a tangle of hair out of her face, Josie turned to go. Alcina stared, eyes wide. Josie knew she’d caught a look at the nasty bruise along the left side of her temple and cheek. She tried to hurry away then, before explanations were necessary, but the other woman put out a staying hand.
“Wait.”
