Wagon Train Proposal. Renee Ryan

mouth, but again nothing came out. Not a whisper, not a squeak.

      All she could do was watch in stunned silence as the twins faced off with each other. They seemed to be engaged in a verbal battle, which quickly escalated to pushing and shoving.

      Amos slammed his hands against Grant’s shoulders. Grant returned the favor, sending his brother back several steps.

      “Hey, boys, looks like you left a few things behind.”

      Pausing midshove, Grant pulled away from his brother and stomped to the river’s edge. The thunderous expression on his face distorted his features, giving him a twisted, almost sinister look. “You got no right searching through our stuff.”

      “Your stuff? Now see, that’s where you’re wrong. This does not belong to you.” Tristan waved the hairbrush, then reached inside the trunk and retrieved the cameo. “Nor does this.”

      He picked up Mrs. Bingham’s shawl, studied the design with casual slowness. “Or this.”

      Grant shouted out something foul concerning Tristan’s heritage. Rachel gasped at the venom in the other man’s words, could only marvel at Tristan’s calm demeanor as he carefully returned the stolen items to the trunk, then prowled like a large menacing cat to the water’s edge.

      Feet planted in a wide-legged stance, his expression turned so hard, so threatening, that Rachel shivered.

      “Come over here and say that to my face,” Tristan said through gritted teeth.

      “Maybe I will.” Grant splashed into the water up to his knees. He looked prepared to dive into the river, but Amos grabbed his arm and yanked him backward.

      Struggling against his brother’s grip, Grant fought for release.

      Amos refused to let him go. He muttered frantically to him about something Rachel couldn’t quite make out.

      Finally, Grant broke free of Amos. But instead of jumping into the water, he stayed put. “This ain’t over, Sheriff. You’ll pay for interfering in our business.” Grant shook his clenched fist in the air. “I’ll see to it personally.”

      Tristan smiled at the threat. “You’re welcome to try.”

      One last foul oath, then Grant spun around and headed in the direction of the Cascade Mountains.

      Amos trailed closely behind him.

      At some point during the heated exchange, Rachel’s brother and James Stillwell had commandeered a canoe.

      The two approached the river, discussing various strategies for apprehending the brothers. Tristan joined them, adding his own opinions and a sense of urgency to the discussion.

      As a section leader and one of the elected committee members for the wagon train, Ben’s involvement made sense. What Rachel couldn’t understand was why Mr. Stillwell had insinuated himself into the matter.

      She voiced her confusion aloud.

      “I’m an agent with Thayer & Edwards safe company,” he said simply.

      Rachel wasn’t quite sure what that had to do with his desire to apprehend the Tucker twins. Then she remembered right before the wagon train left Missouri someone had broken into a special heavy-duty safe containing a considerable amount of money belonging to several local merchants.

      “You’re here because of the robbery back in Independence,” she said. “The safe that was broken into was made by your company?”

      “That’s right,” he confirmed. “I joined the wagon train when I discovered evidence that suggested the thief, or rather thieves,” he corrected, glaring across the river, “were using the journey to hide their escape.”

      “Oh, does that mean...you—” Rachel paused, considered the man through narrowed eyes “—aren’t meeting up with family in Oregon City?”

      “Correct.” He reached inside the trunk and picked up a handful of loose bills. “My job was to recover the stolen money, no matter how long it took.”

      Rachel dropped her gaze to the interior of the trunk. “There must be hundreds of dollars in there.”

      “Thousands,” he said, his eyes troubled. “The Tucker brothers have gone to a lot of trouble transporting this trunk across miles of difficult, rugged land.”

      Rachel sighed. Grant and Amos had seemed so charming, so likable. In reality, they were nothing but liars and thieves. Now her brother and Tristan were leading the charge to capture them.

      Rachel’s heart tightened with fear. Ben had been keeping order and breaking up fights since their first day on the trail. Tristan was a town sheriff. She had to trust they could handle themselves in this situation.

      Still, she lifted up a prayer for their safety, then added, Lord, bring Grant and Amos to swift justice.

      The moment she finished the prayer, she caught sight of Tristan climbing into the canoe with Ben.

      Tristan’s a lawman, she reminded herself. Of course he would set out to apprehend the Tucker brothers. Nevertheless, she lifted up yet another prayer for Tristan’s safety.

      James attempted to join the two men in the canoe, but Tristan waved him off. “We’ll pursue the brothers,” he said. “You stay with the money.”

      The agent looked prepared to argue, then seemed to think better of it. “Good plan.”

      Ben and Tristan navigated the rapids quickly, but the twins had covered a lot of ground already.

      Another rush of fear rose to the back of Rachel’s throat and stuck. No amount of swallowing dislodged the sensation.

      James Stillwell’s voice dropped over her. “I should probably determine which of these items were stolen and which actually belong to the Tuckers.”

      The suggestion was exactly what Rachel needed to distract her from worrying about Tristan and her brother. “I can help with that.”

      “I was hoping you would say that.” They shared an awkward smile, then simultaneously dropped their gazes to the trunk.

      Rachel sighed again. “I find it hard to believe Grant and Amos could be so, so...” She shook her head. “Deceitful.”

      “They fooled everyone, Miss Hewitt, including me.”

      Bottom lip caught between her teeth, Rachel watched Ben and Tristan pull the canoe onto the opposite shore and set down their oars.

      A short nod passed between them, and then off they went, Tristan leading the way over the first ridge.

      Refusing to allow her fears to overwhelm her, Rachel reached inside the trunk and picked up the first item. The silver hairbrush. “This belongs to Delores Jensen.”

      Better, she thought, now that she had something to do with her hands.

      What seemed like hours passed. In actuality, Ben and Tristan returned barely twenty minutes later.

      They were alone.

      Eyes locked with hers, Tristan climbed out of the canoe.

      Pleased to see him, and mildly surprised by the depth of her reaction, Rachel went to meet him. She desperately wanted to touch his face, to assure herself that he was unscathed, but that wouldn’t be proper. Or appropriate.

      She settled for searching his features with only her gaze.

      “What happened?” she asked, somewhat alarmed at how breathless she sounded.

      Lifting his hat a moment, Tristan ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “We lost them in the cliffs.”

      “We could see them, but couldn’t get to them.” Ben wiped sweat off his brow. “They had too much of a head start on us.”

      James slapped his hand on the trunk’s lid.