Tularosa Moon Read online

  Table of Contents

  Tularosa Moon

  Copyright

  Praise for Stacey Coverstone

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  A word about the author...

  Thank you for purchasing this Wild Rose Press publication.

  Tularosa Moon

  by

  Stacey Coverstone

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Tularosa Moon

  COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Stacey Coverstone

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Rae Monet, Inc. Design

  The Wild Rose Press

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Crimson Rose Edition, 2012

  Print ISBN 978-1-61217-172-2

  Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-173-9

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for Stacey Coverstone

  Honorable Mention Winner

  for Best Western Romance 2010

  ~

  CAPA Nominee

  for Best Historical Romance 2010

  ~*~

  “Stacey Coverstone is becoming the Mistress of the Western Romance, in my humble little opinion.”

  ~Bev Owens, Independent Book Reviewer

  ~

  “Coverstone writes a story with engaging characters and plenty of action. I can't think of anything else a reader would want in a romance.”

  ~C.K. Crigger, Spur Award finalist & Eppie winner

  ~

  “Ms. Coverstone knows how to hook her readers and take them on an enjoyable ride as they turn the pages.”

  ~Diana Coyle, Night Owl Reviews

  ~

  “Ms. Coverstone's latest novel will keep you turning the pages. BIG SKY is a must read for those who enjoy cowboys, ghosts, a good murder mystery, and romance.”

  ~Julie Lence, Western historical romance author

  ~

  “Stacey Coverstone delivers a heady mixture of mystery and romance in BIG SKY. When Taylor Young returns to her Montana home, she finds that broken hearts are a lot harder to mend than fences on her family ranch, but she will find love when she least expects it and also pulse-pounding suspense as she uncovers the truth behind her sister’s untimely death.”

  ~Michelle Black, author

  Dedication

  To my parents, Don and Beverly,

  and my brother, Brian,

  for your love and support.

  And to my soul mate, Paul, for everything.

  You are the love of my life.

  One

  Cole Roberts sauntered through the crowded Tulie Café greeting everyone he knew with a handshake, a pat on the shoulder, or an easygoing hello as he threaded his way to the booth in the back. Usually cheerful and optimistic, missing these days was the bright smile that folks in the village of Tularosa, New Mexico were accustomed to seeing on his face. In the six months since his dad had died and his girlfriend had left town, there hadn’t been much to smile about.

  “Sure is busy today,” he said, slipping onto the red vinyl seat next to his friend, Jordan Mackenzie.

  She flashed him a warm smile and whispered, “Half are Texans who have stopped off for lunch on their way to Cloudcroft. We’ve been eavesdropping on the conversations around us.”

  “You know the summer season has begun when the Texans hit town,” her fiancé, Wyatt Brannigan, chuckled. “They can’t wait to enjoy the cooler climate of the mountains.” He offered his hand to Cole to shake from across the table. “How’s it going, sport?”

  “I’m hanging in there. Each day gets a little easier than the last.” He caught the sympathetic gaze that passed between the couple.

  “I hope so,” Jordan said, patting his hand. “I miss the twinkle in those blue eyes of yours.”

  Wyatt grinned and then slipped on his reading glasses and began to peruse the menu. Cole knew Wyatt wasn’t jealous of the attention Jordan gave him. There was no reason for him to be. After all, he’d won the girl.

  Cole bowed his head to his own menu, remembering how Jordan had come to Tularosa. She’d arrived from Colorado last summer after inheriting her aunt’s ranch, the Lucky Seven. Like the plot of a romance novel, both he and Wyatt had fallen for her and tried to capture her heart, but he’d lost out to the older rancher. Although the couple had become engaged after a whirlwind few weeks, they had yet to walk down the aisle.

  “What can I get for you three?” Nicki, the waitress asked, placing three glasses of ice water on the table. She licked her pencil and flipped open a notepad ready to take their orders.

  “How’s your mom doing?” Jordan asked Cole once Nicki had departed.

  “She’s well. Deciding to go into the guest ranch business has kept her busy and her mind occupied.”

  “Your mother is a strong woman,” Wyatt said.

  “Yes, but she misses Dad something terrible. I’m thirty-six now. They would have been married thirty-eight years come September.”

  “Preston was a good man, and a fine horse breeder,” Wyatt complimented.

  “But apparently not such a great businessman,” Cole said softly. “I hadn’t realized how deeply in debt the ranch was until Dad passed away. Mom and I had a long talk after the funeral, and we agreed changes had to be made or she’d lose the whole place. Turning the horse ranch into The Painted Pony Guest Ranch seemed to be the most financially sound idea, especially since I’ve done all the renovations myself. The bank got on board with the new business plan, and they’re giving Mom a year to pay off some of the outstanding debts.”

  “Thank God for that,” Jordan sighed.

  “That’s one good thing about living in a small town where you know the banker personally,” Wyatt said.

  “And it helps that Mom has a contractor for a son. She wouldn’t have been able to afford the renovations to the house, let alone the cost of remodeling the old one-room schoolhouse on the property and building three new guest cabins.”

  “What all have you done to your folks’ house?” Jordan asked.

  “We tore down some walls to open up the kitchen, living and dining areas so that it’s now one big room. The downstairs bedroom was converted into an office, and Mom’s redecorated the three upstairs bedrooms, I suppose as more guest rooms. I’ve left those details up to her while I’ve been getting the schoolhouse done and the cabins built. Two are finished, one to go.”

  Wyatt shook his head. “Tha
t’s quite an undertaking for one man in a short period of time.”

  “I hired a few teenagers to help out part-time for a few months, but my guys, Tony and Bobby, have worked alongside me the entire project. The job has meant a steady paycheck for them for the past five months, which can’t always be counted on in my line of business. Besides, like Mom, the work has kept me distracted, too.”

  The discussion momentarily halted when Nicki placed their lunches in front of them. “Anything else I can get you?” They shook their heads and she moved to the next table.

  “Have you heard from Rachel lately?” Jordan asked after a few minutes.

  Cole’s gut twisted at the mention of Rachel’s name, even though he’d known Jordan would eventually turn the conversation to her. Rachel had been Jordan’s nurse at the hospital after Wyatt had found her injured in an arroyo last summer. Her horse had been stolen, and she’d gotten lost in the desert while searching for Houdini, a rascal of a pigmy goat, during a severe thunderstorm.

  Cole had met Rachel during a visit to Jordan, and the two of them had realized they knew each other from years past. After reminiscing about his days of helping out at her father’s ranch when he was sixteen, they’d started dating right away and the relationship had grown serious fast.

  He finished swallowing a bite of his burger and then spoke through a tight throat. “The last email I got from her said she has no regrets about joining Doctors Without Borders, and that they were traveling throughout Africa to give vaccinations to children and provide pregnant women with prenatal care. She said she didn’t want to hurt me anymore than she already had, so she suggested we stop communicating altogether. She’s found her life’s dream in this work and doesn’t expect to come home anytime soon, not even for a vacation. She doesn’t see the point in maintaining a relationship that’s not destined to go anywhere.”

  “That’s harsh,” Wyatt complained. “At least Jordan was nice when she dumped you.”

  “Brannigan.” Jordan kicked Wyatt’s foot under the table. “I’m so sorry, Cole,” she said, turning toward him with sincerity in her gaze. “I thought she might have been the one for you.”

  “I had that same thought.” He pushed back his plate, suddenly not hungry anymore. “Guess I’m just a two-time loser.”

  Wyatt’s fist landed in the middle of the table, rattling the china and glassware and startling both Cole and Jordan. His gaze narrowed. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that, Roberts. No matter what kind of charm you tried to use on Jordan last summer, there was no way you were going to have her. She stole my heart the day we met, and you know I would have done anything to make her mine. So there’s no use in crying over that spilled milk.”

  Jordan smiled and reached for Wyatt’s hand, which hovered over his mashed potatoes and Salisbury steak.

  “As for Rachel,” he continued, “it wasn’t meant to be. Cowboy up and move on. There are plenty of fillies in the pasture. Pick one out and take her for a ride.” He shoveled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth, thus ending his sage advice.

  Jordan released Wyatt’s hand and rolled her eyes playfully. “Don’t listen to him,” she told Cole. “When the right girl comes along, you’ll know it and everything will work out. Look at Brannigan and me. We were fated to meet. It was our destiny. Your destiny awaits you, too. I’m sure of it.”

  Cole plowed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know about that. It might be easier on this heart of mine if I forget about finding the right woman and accept the life of a bachelor.”

  “No way,” Jordan said, raking him up and down with a teasing gaze. “I’m sure Ella wants grandkids. Besides, with your sweet personality, that gorgeous dark hair, your movie star looks, those sparkling blue eyes, and Adonis-like body… Cole, you’re the perfect man, and there are a hundred girls out there who would jump at the chance to date you and become your wife.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Wyatt protested good-naturedly. “If he’s Adonis, what am I? Chopped liver?”

  Jordan puckered her lips and blew him a kiss. “Cole’s the perfect man, honey. You know I consider you a Greek God.”

  “That’s what I thought you meant,” he grinned.

  “Cole, don’t give up on women,” Jordan pleaded sweetly. “Be patient. Your soul mate’s out there somewhere. When you least expect it, you’re going to find her sitting under the Tularosa moon one night.”

  He chuckled and recalled the local legend that some Tulie resident had obviously related to Jordan. Any kid who had grown up in the area knew the story that if a single man stumbled upon a woman gazing upon the full moon, she was the one he would marry. Ever since Cole could remember, locals had called the full moon a Tularosa moon.

  “When is Ella going to start taking in guests?” Wyatt asked, buttering a slice of bread.

  Cole was glad for the change in subject. “The first ones arrive in two days, and she’s already got reservations lined up for the rest of the month. When I leave here, I’m headed out to see what I can do to help with last-minute details.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, I should probably go.”

  “You haven’t finished your lunch,” Jordan pointed out.

  “I’m not so hungry after all.”

  Wyatt gulped down some water. “Ella opening now is perfect timing with all the Texans coming to New Mexico for the summer. Maybe some of them will want to spend a few days at The Painted Pony.”

  “We hired someone to do marketing for us, and Texas is one of our target states. Mom has all kinds of things lined up for her guests to do. Trail rides, shooting lessons, tours to the Three Rivers petroglyph site and the ghost town of White Oaks, and sing-a-longs around a campfire at night.”

  “That all sounds fun. I want to make a reservation,” Jordan said. “Is your mother planning on hosting weddings there, too?”

  Wyatt’s head jerked up from his plate and his eyes widened. “Are you finally ready to set a date?” he asked.

  She grinned. “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  “It’s been time since the day we met, honey.”

  Cole smiled. He was happy for his friends. They had found the kind of genuine love he was searching for. “I’ll talk to Mom. She had me design a garden with desert landscaping and a Mexican fountain that she’s calling the meditation garden. I could build an arch or a canopy, and it would be the perfect spot for a wedding. Good idea, Jordan.”

  “Thanks, but I think I just made more work for you.”

  “I don’t mind keeping busy. If you were to have your wedding at the ranch, at least I know I’d be invited.”

  Jordan punched his arm. “You’re invited, wherever we hold it.”

  “After everything the three of us went through together last summer to convict Addison Stillwell of harassing you, kidnapping your horse, and using violence to try running you off your property, I’d hope so.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and laid enough money on the table to cover his lunch and a tip. Then he stood up and shook Wyatt’s hand again. “I’m gonna run. Mom will be wondering where I am. I’ll catch you two later.”

  “Thanks for joining us, even if the visit was short,” Jordan said.

  “Tell Ella howdy from us,” Wyatt added.

  Cole nodded and made a quick exit out of the café. He jumped into his pickup truck, turned onto the highway and headed out of town. As he passed by the grocery store, he remembered something his mom had asked him to pick up for her and made a U-turn and whipped into the parking lot. The moment he stepped out of his truck, a car pulling into the spot next to him hit the rear bumper of an older model Ford Focus on the other side, denting the bumper and knocking out the left taillight. As he stepped up to the window of the elderly woman driving the offending vehicle, he heard a gasp behind him.

  Turning, he gazed at a petite woman with dark brown eyes and long hair of the same color. She held a paper sack in her arms with a bouquet of flowers sticking out of the top. Clearly, from the crestfallen expression that fil
led her face, she was the owner of the Focus.

  “I’m sorry,” said the elderly woman whom Cole recognized as the retired librarian from the high school. He helped her from her car. “I didn’t know I was so close. My peripheral vision’s not like it used to be.”

  “Is this your Ford, ma’am?” Cole asked the pretty woman frozen in her spot. He’d never seen her before, and guessed her to be in her early thirties. She nodded and numbly stared at the damage to her bumper.

  “Do you have your insurance card inside the car, Mrs. Smith?” he asked the older lady.

  “Yes, it’s in the glove compartment.”

  He slid onto the driver’s seat of her car and reached into the glove compartment to retrieve the card. “The two of you can exchange insurance information, unless you prefer to pay for the damages out of your own pocket, Mrs. Smith,” he said gazing between the two women after exiting the vehicle. Obviously, she’d caused the accident. Suddenly, his comment seemed to jolt the younger woman into action.

  “Never mind,” she said, walking briskly toward the Ford. “If Mrs. Smith would kindly move her vehicle, I need to go. She can take care of any damage to her car and I’ll take care of mine.”

  “Wait a minute,” Cole said, raising his hand like a traffic cop. “I think you should at least exchange names and telephone numbers, even if you don’t want to go through your insurance company.”

  Her brown eyes flashed with disapproval. “Why? This accident was her fault. I said I’d fix my own car. There’s no need to exchange any personal information.” She forced a small smile to her lips and addressed Mrs. Smith. “If you’re in agreement, I would appreciate your moving your car now so I can leave. I have an appointment I don’t want to be late for.”

  “Oh, all right, dear,” said Mrs. Smith, looking relieved. “That’s fine with me.”

  Cole narrowed his eyes at the brunette. She probably didn’t have insurance, which was the reason she was in such a hurry to vamoose. “I’ll move the car for you,” he told Mrs. Smith, slipping behind the steering wheel and parking in an empty spot on the other side of the Focus.

  Before he’d exited the vehicle, the brunette had ducked into her car, shifted in reverse, and drove past him out of the parking lot. He jumped out and stood with his hands at his hips watching her turn onto the highway.