Page 1 of Earning Tia’s Trust

ONE

1891 Stone Falls, Texas.

Robert Grayson stepped outside his new office with a hammer in one hand and a hand-lettered sign in the other. With his six-foot, four-inch height, he didn’t have to stretch much to reach above the top of the door. If anything, he’d spent most of his life ducking through doorways to avoid giving himself a concussion.

He hammered four nails in the sign, one in each corner. It would do for now. He’d scraped off the name of the now-defunct newspaper and the name of the lawyer he was replacing. The building would be painted, although he wasn’t in a hurry.

Although it wasn’t much, Robert stepped back to admire his new office. The building was weather-beaten, unpainted, mill-sawed plank, and he’d bought it sight unseen. He was ready to start a new stage of his life. He was done with traveling, having spent the last eight years shadowing the wealthy and political men who controlled Texas. Attorney General James (Jim) Hogg had treated him well, but Robert was done with politics. He was tired of living on the periphery of someone else’s life and problems. He wanted his own life, and it wouldn’t include rescuing thick-witted politicians who thought they were above the law. He would no longer be a legal nanny to men who should have enough morals to know better.

Robert would be happy if he never owned a formal suit again. He didn’t mind wearing a good suit, western cut, but the fancy stiff collars and bowties were now in his past. He hadn’t bothered to pack them and had told his housekeeper to donate them to the poor.

Estelle, his former housekeeper, had bluntly asked him what use a poor man would have with silk shirts and white gloves. It was a question he hadn’t bothered to answer. All Robert knew was that he was tired of covering up misbehavior by men who should know better.

A born and bred Texan, he’d traveled over most of his home state. He’d decided to settle in Stone Falls because a college friend had written to him about the town needing the services of a good lawyer, and he had emphasized the word good . Robert had brought two trunks, one suitcase, and several crates of law books with him. That was all he would need. He’d left a furnished house behind and rented it to his replacement.

Robert had come to Stone Falls, Texas, to hang his shingle and took pride in his decision. He wanted to put his law license and education to better use. His sign was simple:

Robert Grayson

Attorney of Law

Robert turned when a movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

She was riding a magnificent black horse, astride like a man, and sat in the saddle as relaxed as if she’d been born to it. She wore a man’s Stetson, a man’s vest, and trousers. A holster was strapped around her slender hips, and she was carrying a 45 Colt revolver.

He couldn’t see much of the young woman’s face, but she was trim of body, and he could detect blonde hair spilling down her back in a long braid. He turned to greet her, but she spun away and kicked her horse into full gallop. Robert was left standing in her dust and was surprised by her rudeness. He was sure he’d heard her spit out the word ‘Shyster!’ before kicking in her spurs and was gone in the darkness of the evening.

Old Horace Skinner limped around the side of the building. He gave a hitch to his loose overalls and sat in one of two chairs on the wood-planked sidewalk outside Robert’s new office.

“That one ain’t got no use for fee-chasers,” Horace said, spitting tobacco juice into the street.

“What’s her story?” Robert asked.

“It’s a doozy, but you’d have to ask her,” Horace snorted. “Providing you could get close enough to ask without getting your head blown off! There’s a whole stack of newspapers left behind in there.” The old man pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Robert’s new office. “Her pa, Hayward Kingston, was a full-blooded bastard! I heard he was sick with cancer, but it didn’t kill him right away. The longer he lived, the meaner he got. His obituary is in one of those newspapers.

“Calvin Byrd, the newspaperman, wrote stories about Tia’s problems before he was run out of town. He wrote about women being mistreated by Texas and the whole country. His ideas didn’t go over well around here. Preacher Niken called him out from the pulpit. Called him Satan’s spawn, he did.

“That was a shame because he printed real pictures in his papers, not drawings. I never seen the like of it. There were real pictures from a camera. I looked through all those newspapers Calvin left behind. If you want to know the low-down dirt in Stone Falls, it’s printed in those newspapers.”

“What does that have to do with that young woman?” Robert asked. “I bought the building from Calvin Byrd before he left town.”

“Read the damn papers,” Horace Skinner growled. “You might learn something!”

* * *

Tia Kingston rode into the dark, leaving Stone Falls behind. Hayward Kingston had helped build the town, but it and everything else that she cherished had been stolen from her after his death. This trip to town had been to deal with Jasper Hornsbe, who ran a trading shack. She’d known Jasper all her life and had sold him five fox pelts. She provided him the furs as clean kills. The pelts weren’t damaged, and he’d get top dollar when he sold them to traders who would sell them to make fancy fox furs for wealthy women. Jasper paid what they were worth, and she took the money without complaint. It would help feed her and her ten-year-old brother Sammy. It was all she could hope for at this point.

She stopped at the Grover Mercantile and knocked on the back door. Most town businesses closed at sunset, allowing her to attend errands without being seen. When her friends passed her several sacks of provisions through the back door, she tied them onto her horse and moved on. Her next stop was the schoolhouse, where she could hide her horse behind the building. Francine Mason, the Stone Falls school teacher, and Tia’s best friend, lived in the attic above the schoolroom.

“Are you okay?” Francine exclaimed, hugging her friend and following her up a narrow stairway to the attic space.

“So far, so good,” Tia said. “Raymond hasn’t found us.”

“Is Hank still helping you?” Francine asked.

Tia nodded. “As much as he can. I’ve told him not to take any chances. Raymond would just as soon put a bullet in his back as look at him. The only reason he hasn’t hurt Hank is because he knows Hank is holding the ranch together. That lazy bunch of do-nothings hanging around and living off what Raymond stole from us won’t be there forever. They’ll scatter like rats when the money and liquor runs out.”

“Sooner or later, Raymond will get his just rewards,” Francine said. “Right now, everyone is scared of him and his men, but they have seen through his lies.”

“Seeing through his lies is one thing. Doing something about it is something else,” Tia said bitterly.

Francine nodded in agreement, and she picked up a package and handed it to her friend. “I’ve written down all of Sammy’s assignments and put in several books for him and a new book for you to read.”

Tia smiled. “I’m making him do his schoolwork, and I won’t let him get behind.”

“Try to look at the good parts,” Francine said. “At least he doesn’t have to ride ten miles to go to school every morning.”

“He doesn’t mind, and he rides at a canter. It’s easier on the horse, and it eats up the miles. It’s a two-hour trip in a buggy, but it’s only an hour as he rides. He’s never complained about the distance,” Tia said with a smile. “He plays sheriff and badman as he rides.”

“Have you heard any news?”

“Just the usual grumbling and threats. I’m keeping my ears open. When Raymond comes into town with those worthless hanger-oners, they spend most of their time in the saloon. Jake Manfort, the bartender, told Clarie Grover at the mercantile that Raymond owes a huge bill, but he gets nasty whenever they mention it. Mr. Boone, who owns the saloon, goes upstairs to his office and hides when they show up.

“James Grover has refused the Kingston Ranch credit. James told them flat out, no cash, no supplies, and he wasn’t making any exceptions. The gossip is that Raymond has already spent what was left to him in the will, and the thugs he calls his friends have turned on him. They won’t hang around long if they’re not getting paid.”

“Raymond is dangerous, and I hate that you and my other friends are taking chances by helping me,” Tia said.

“We are your friends. We’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you safe,” Francine said. “I hate sending you out in the dark. I don’t know how you can see.”

“I can see well enough to manage as long as there is a full moon. Thank you,” Tia said, hugging her friend.

“Be safe, my friend,” Francine whispered.

Tia took her leave, not riding on the dirt road but cutting across cattle country she knew like the back of her hand. She followed a trail known to very few and headed deep into the Texas hills. The line shack wasn’t on Kingston property and hadn’t been used since the railroad tracks had been laid before the Civil War. The railroad had never finished the line, and it was abandoned. She and her younger brother had been lucky that Raymond Kingston and his henchmen hadn’t discovered their whereabouts.

Tia knew her father, Hayward Kingston, would turn over in his grave if he could see what his brother was doing to the ranch. It was his outdated arrogance that had put her and Sammy in danger.

Raymond Kingston, upon hearing of his brother’s death, had immediately swept in under the guise of helping and had stolen his brother’s legacy to his children. Even at the end of his life, Hayward had been devious and controlling. He’d never forgiven Tia for not being born a boy. He’d outsmarted her, using her stubbornness against her. But now, she was more determined than ever to find a way to keep the Kingston Ranch property. She didn’t know how yet, but somehow, she would take back the ranch and raise her brother. She could only hope it didn’t come down to her killing her uncle. At the time, it was the only solution she knew that would stop him. She knew for sure if Raymond ever laid a hand on her little brother again, she would kill him and have no remorse for doing so.

* * *

Robert Grayson pounded on the side door of the bank and waited impatiently for his long-time friend Rainer Bishop to answer.

“What’s the matter?” Rainer exclaimed, opening the door with a fried chicken leg still in his hand.

Robert snatched the chicken leg, took a big bite, and brushed past his friend, going upstairs to Rainer’s living quarters. There were several liquor bottles on a side table, and he poured a weak one-finger into a glass and downed it in one swallow.

“Why didn’t you tell me that son-of-a-bitch Leo Mercer was a con man?” Robert growled. “You told me his practice had failed, but you didn’t tell me that no one in this town trusted him or would trust his replacement!”

“In Texas, every man has to prove himself,” Rainer said, pouring himself a drink. “Leo wasn’t shot for no reason. I can name at least ten people who had good reasons to put a bullet in him. If there was a dirty deal going down, everyone knew Leo Mercer was involved in it.”

Rainer shrugged. “Leo knew too much and had a problem with his mouth. He was stupid and so proud of his dirty deeds that he bragged about them. Whoever wanted him dead might have missed on the first try, but I’m sure they didn’t miss on the second. I broke into his office and removed his files. I hid them until I could find someone I could trust, and that was you.”

“You could have told me what I was walking into,” Robert raged.

Rainer turned his back on his friend and returned to his dinner table.

Robert followed, took a plate, and filled it from what was left in the bowls. “I’ve been going over Mercer’s files. Not only was he crooked, he was good at it. Good, but not great. He tried to cover his tracks, but not well enough.”

“So you need to uncover the worst of what he did and use it as evidence against Raymond Kingston and his co-conspirators,” Rainer said mildly. “I had to do the same thing at the bank when I came here. I fired an accountant that my father had relied on for ten years. I find it hard to believe that decent people can suddenly change and be willing to cheat for a price. It might take a while, but eventually, the townspeople will realize you’re not one of the bad guys and begin to trust you. It took me years for people to trust me.”

“What do you know about Tia Kingston?” Robert demanded.

“Ah,” Rainer said, neatly folding his napkin by his plate. “She’s the reason I wanted you here. She’s been in hiding for the last couple of months. She’s a decent girl, although she usually acts more like a rowdy. She wasn’t prepared to handle what happened after her father died. Raymond Kingston, her uncle, showed up out of nowhere a week after Hayward died from cancer or liquor. It could have been either.

“Raymond Kingston wasn’t responsible for Hayward’s death, but he showed up with a supposedly new will Hayward had written. A will that didn’t leave his estate to his children. The new will named Raymond as the sole beneficiary.

“I’ve talked to Hank Walker, the Kingston ranch’s foreman. He’s worked on the ranch for twenty-odd years and took over running the place. He doesn’t believe Raymond’s will is legitimate any more than I do. Hank is probably the only one in town who knows where Tia and Sammy are hiding.”

Rainer offered Robert a cigar and sat back in his chair.

“From what I’ve been told, Hayward Kingston built the Kingston Ranch from nothing. He was a hard man but a fair one most of the time. The gossip in town says Hayward had been trying to marry his daughter off since she turned of age. That’s twelve years old in Texas. She had refused all of his attempts to marry her off.

“He told me privately that he was leaving the Kingston Ranch to his son and daughter equally, but that was when I was fresh to this town many years ago. I knew Hayward had a brother, but as far as I know, he only came around when he was in trouble or needed money.”

“Then suddenly, after Hayward’s death, Raymond, the brother, shows up, and it just so happens that he has his brother’s latest will in his possession,” Robert guessed.

“Yep, written and signed with witnesses authenticated by Leo Mercer and Judge Thatcher. I’m sure there was money exchanged between those three. Kingston, Mercer, and Thatcher were thick as thieves and bent as snakes.

“Three weeks after Thatcher validated the will, someone put a bullet in Mercer. It didn’t kill him, but it scared him enough that he left town in the middle of the night, or so everyone thought. A couple of weeks later, what was left of his body was discovered. The wildlife had got to the body. He was identified by a necklace he wore and his glasses. The whole deal smelled wrong to me. I have buried most of Hayward’s assets into false accounts, and neither Judge Thatcher nor Raymond can prove otherwise.”

“Why didn’t you tell me straight out about this?” Robert demanded.

“Because I wanted you to come to your own conclusions. That’s why I had those stolen files delivered back to your office. I was the one who stole them. Mercer’s death left a big hole in Raymond’s plans. I put another kink in them by hiding Hayward’s assets. I knew you couldn’t resist researching Mercer’s files once you got a whiff of something dirty.”

“You are a bastard! You do know that, my friend,” Robert growled.

“Yeah, I can be,” Rainer chirped with a smile. “But, I’m an honest one. Tia and Sammy Kingston need a champion, and I figured you were my best bet. You were sick of playing nanny to those overgrown idiots. Besides, if someone finds out about my creative bookkeeping, I might need a lawyer myself. If my cooking the books to protect those youngsters gets me into trouble, I would not settle for anything less than the best, and that’s you, my friend. I did what I could to protect those youngsters, but my bank auditors might see what I did differently.”

“Where can I find Tia Kingston?”

“Good question,” Rainer said. “She’s not living on the Kingston Ranch. When Raymond moved in, Tia disappeared with her brother in the middle of the night. I’ve heard she’s still in the area, but if anyone knows where they’re not talking. She’s protecting herself and her younger brother, and I don’t blame her.”

“Neither do I,” Robert said. “The second will was obviously forged. The signatures didn’t match.”

“Unfortunately, Judge Thatcher authenticated it.”

“I’ve already got enough evidence to overturn that decision,” Robert said. “I need to find Tia Kingston. She’s probably not going to like the conditions of her father’s real will, but at least she and her brother will inherit the Kingston Ranch eventually.”

“Your best bet is to talk to the school teacher, Francine Mason. If anyone knows where Tia is or how to contact her, it would be her. From what I’ve heard, they grew up together. Miss Mason’s mother worked at the ranch as a housekeeper for several years after Mrs. Kingston was bedridden.”

Robert waited for the final school bell to ring, and he stepped aside to avoid being trampled by a horde of children spilling from the schoolhouse and acting like they’d been deprived of sunshine for too long. He stepped inside and removed his hat. A short woman on the chubby side was erasing the blackboard.

“Miss Mason?”

The school teacher turned around. “Yes?”

“I’m Robert Grayson, ma’am, the new attorney in town.”

“Yes? What can I do for you?” she questioned.

“Ma’am,” Robert said again. “I was told that you are a friend of Tia Kingston, and I need to locate her.”

“Why?” Francine demanded.

Robert saw it in the woman’s eyes and read her suddenly stiff stance. This woman would not betray her friend.

“Ma’am, I took over Leo Mercer’s law practice. I’ve been reviewing his files, and I think... No, ma’am, I know for a fact that Miss Kingston and her brother have been swindled out of her family ranch.”

“That’s a known fact for anyone with half a brain,” Francine snapped. “That worthless Raymond Kingston has cheated her out of her inheritance and threatened her and Sammy.”

“I believe you are right, but it’s not too late to stop him.”

“How?” Francine asked.

“That’s something I need to discuss with Miss Kingston,” Robert said.

“How do I know you’re not working for her uncle?” Francine demanded.

“You can’t know that because you don’t know me. However, I have already been to Moose Ridge and sent a telegram to Attorney General James Hogg about this case. I’ve informed him of Judge Thatcher’s misconduct in allowing an obviously forged document. Judge Thatcher has already been relieved of his duties, and a Judge that I do trust will replace him. He should be in Stone Falls in a couple of days. In the meantime, I need to talk to Miss Kingston.”

“Why would someone of Attorney General Hogg’s position take your word over that of Judge Thatcher?” Francine demanded.

“Because my previous position was legal representation for the honorable James Stephen Hogg,” Robert said. “He trusts my judgment, and he happens to be my Godfather. If I am to have any chance of reversing Miss Kingston’s situation, I need to speak to her soon. She might not know it, but there is a time constraint on her taking possession of the Kingston Ranch in her father’s authentic will that I found hidden in Mercer’s files. She is running out of time, and I must speak to her as soon as possible. As soon as the honorable Judge William Bentley arrives, I will present my case and have the previous judgment by Judge Thatcher overruled. In the meantime, by order of Attorney General James Hogg, Raymond Kingston and Judge Thatcher will be arrested and charged with fraud and murder.”

“I don’t know if Tia will trust any man,” Francine said. “She’s been lied to, cheated, and threatened. She doesn’t have much reason to trust anyone, especially a lawyer.”

Robert winced at her words, but he wouldn’t give up.

“Please tell Miss Kingston that I need to talk to her. As soon as possible. Right now, I am her only hope of regaining her inheritance and getting the men behind this criminal action arrested!” Robert turned away but then turned back. “Whatever you do, do not repeat what I’ve said to anyone except Miss Kingston! I have already discovered that gossip in this town is faster than a telegraph line.”

* * *

Robert unlocked his office, closed the door behind him, and relocked it from the inside. Hanging his hat on a hook behind the door, he felt his way through the darkness, climbing the stairs to the two rooms above the office. Occasionally, he would buy something from the mercantile and eat at the small table, but he couldn’t cook in the rooms. There was no stove, and water had to be carried upstairs from an outside pump.

His temporary quarters were far from the palatial home he’d lived in before moving to Stone Falls. The loft rooms weren’t the best accommodations, but he hadn’t gotten around to looking for a house yet. Most of his time had been spent reviewing transactions and working with Rainer Bishop at the bank to prove the wrongdoings of Raymond Kingston, Judge Thatcher, and Leo Mercer. They were working secretly because the Sheriff of Stone Falls was the brother-in-law of the town mayor, a man whom the townspeople didn’t trust. That morning, Judge William Bentley had arrived by stagecoach with a Texas Ranger named John Hagger.

Bentley went straight to Rainer’s house to review the evidence of the fraudulent will. He was already aware that Raymond Kingston had a prison record. The Texas Ranger had the authority to arrest the men involved. After spending four hours reviewing the paperwork, he and the Texas Ranger arrested Judge Thatcher and Raymond Kingston. They were locked in the jail cells, and the Texas Ranger was in charge of holding them there.

Robert was working with Rainer but wasn’t sure if he was meant to stay in Stone Falls. He’d been in town several weeks and made a grand total of two dollars. He’d spent more than that buying food and tobacco chaws for Old Horace Skinner, who slept in a shed behind his office and came with the property. Most of the town citizens looked at the old man with pity.

Making his way across the upstairs room in the pitch-black, Robert knew his way, and his hand touched the edge of the small wooden table. He felt for the lantern, struck a match, and raised the glass globe, lighting the wick. As his eyes adjusted, he realized only one chair was pushed under the table, and he turned slowly.

The other chair was across the room, and sitting in it was a figure dressed in black. A Colt 45 was aimed straight at him. Robert straightened slowly.

“Tia Kingston?”

“Yes,” she answered, with the gun still pointed at him.

“Do you mind if I light another lantern? I prefer to see who is holding a gun on me.”

“Go ahead,” a soft female voice said steadily, and she waited for him to finish the task. “I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

“May I sit?” Robert asked, motioning to the chair at the table. “Or would you prefer to go downstairs to my office?”

“Sit,” was the command.

Robert sat, not wanting to trigger an itchy finger. Neither spoke, so he decided to start first. “Miss Kingston, I understand you’ve had a rough time since your father died.”

“My brother and I have been swindled out of our birthright,” the young woman snapped.

“Yes, I understand that, and I understand that you have taken responsibility for your younger brother,” Robert said. “There are a lot of people in Stone Falls who sympathize with your plight. Your uncle has done you a terrible wrong.”

“Everyone knows it, but no one wants to fix it,” Tia agreed.

“I do, and I have already set motions into place. Judge William Bentley arrived in Stone Falls this morning. He was accompanied by a Texas Ranger. Judge Bentley has replaced Judge Thatcher, who, along with Raymond Kingston, is behind bars.”

“Raymond is in jail?” Tia questioned.

“Yes, under the supervision of the Texas Ranger. When Judge Bentley gets settled enough to review the case I have presented, he will invalidate the will Raymond Kingston used to take possession of the Kingston Ranch. It is a bad forgery, and I’m sure William will agree with my assessment. He has also drawn up warrants for the bank to freeze their accounts, providing they have them. Then Judge Bentley will authenticate the previous will of Hayward Kingston, dated February 4th, 1882, as the last will of record. He has already cited and arrested Kingston and Thatcher, charging them with the murder of Leo Mercer.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Tia said, shaking her head. “Sheriff Briggs won’t arrest them.”

“It’s not up to him,” Robert said. “Judge William Bentley is a man who believes in the law. He is also not a man to be crossed. With him making the decisions, the Texas Ranger arrested Kingston and Thatcher. They are being held for trial. Texas Rangers outrank civilian law enforcement.”

“Hayward and I had our battles, but he was important to this town in the beginning,” Tia said calmly. “Raymond is not. Once the people of Stone Falls find out Raymond has been caught in his dirty deeds, he will be lucky if he isn’t tarred and feathered before standing before a judge for sentencing. May I see the will?”

“Will you holster your gun?” Robert asked.

“No sir, not yet,” Tia said. “Why have you done this?”

“I don’t like swindlers,” Robert said honestly. “I believe in the law, Miss Kingston, and I’m willing to help you. But I’m not going to be harassed while doing so.” Robert picked up a lantern and led the way down the stairs. He went into his office and lit four more lanterns; enough to give them sufficient light to read by.

Tia followed him and entered the office hesitantly as if she expected someone to jump out at her.

“Did your uncle mistreat you and your brother?” Robert asked.

“Most of his abuse was pushing my ten-year-old brother around,” Tia admitted. “When I discovered he’d taken his belt to Sammy, we left that night.”

“Did your uncle or any of his men hurt you?” Robert demanded.

“No, I...” The young woman swallowed and shook her head. “No, not the way you’re thinking. No.”

“I heard you went into hiding,” Robert said. “It was a smart move on your part.”

“If I take back possession of the ranch, and my uncle and the judge are in jail, Hank Walker will drive off the others,” Tia said. “I’ll make sure of it. Raymond will be jailed for his actions, won’t he?”

“I can’t promise, but it’s most likely,” Robert said. “Raymond Kingston and Judge Thatcher have been charged with the murder of Leo Mercer. Do you have someone you can fully trust?”

“Yes. Beyond Hank, there are a few other people in town. Mrs. Putney, the housekeeper, quit and is staying with a friend. I don’t know who to trust anymore,” Tia said honestly. “Hank Walker has been the Kingston foreman as far back as I can remember. He hasn’t been acting as foreman, but he has kept an eye on the ranch. He told me the ranch work has been getting shoddy, but once we get the riff-raff out of the way, it shouldn’t take too long to get it back in order. I do hope my uncle goes to jail for a very long time.” Tia repeated.

“Murder usually puts men in prison for life, and I’ll do my best,” Robert said. “Please hang your gun on that rack. I will feel more comfortable discussing this matter without my life being on the line.”

“I’m sorry,” Tia said. “But I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”

“Miss Kingston, I’ve been working on your behalf for several weeks. If there are people in this town that you do trust, you should add Rainer Bishop and myself to the list.”

“Mr. Bishop, the banker?” Tia questioned. “He’s probably let my uncle bankrupt the ranch by now.”

“Not exactly,” Robert said. “After Judge Bentley validates your father’s will, I’ll let Rainer explain what he’s done to safeguard your inheritance.” He unlocked the desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. “This is your father’s last will on record. Did he show this to you?”

Tia set her gun on the table cautiously, but it was noticeably within range of a quick grab if needed. She bent closer to a lantern to read the will she was handed.

While she read, Robert watched her. Tia Kingston was a beautiful young woman. She was slender and slightly above the average height of women. Her face and hands were lightly tanned, meaning she spent time outside. Her eyes were a light sapphire blue, and her hair was blonde and straight, hanging down her back in a long braid to her waist. Overall, she looked delicate, except for the underside of her hands. Those were working, calloused hands; he already knew they could handle a gun and a horse. He’d been told and warned that she had won the Annual 4 th of July Marksman’s Competition two years in a row.

She looked up suddenly. “Did you read this stipulation?”

“Yes, I’ve read the will. I’m well-versed in it.”

“Can I be held to this?” she demanded.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then I’ve still been cheated,” she said, tossing the papers on the desk and getting to her feet.

“You have time,” Robert said.

“I’ll be twenty-one next month!” Tia exclaimed. “That’s what? Twenty-three days! I have twenty-three days to find a husband and marry? If I’m not married by my twenty-first birthday, the ranch will go to Raymond to manage until Sammy comes of age? I’m right back where I started! Hayward hated that I wasn’t a son, but I didn’t think he’d go this far!

“Under Raymond’s management, the ranch won’t last, and I’m pretty sure he would murder my brother just to get him out of the way. God knows what he would do to me!”

“Miss Kingston, please don’t get hysterical. Raymond Kingston isn’t going to do anything to you or your brother. He’s on his way to jail. He and Judge Thatcher murdered Leo Mercer,” Robert said bluntly. “I have proof of a letter written by Leo Mercer that clearly states that if he was murdered, it would be at the hands of Kingston and Thatcher. The undertaker found it in his pocket when his body was discovered. That’s proof from a dead man.

“Raymond Kingston can not be the guardian of a minor child while in prison. You do have time. And this is a minor problem compared to losing the ranch altogether. Let’s focus on what needs to be done tomorrow, the next day, and the next. I need you to stay calm. Let me guide you through this process if you want to retain ownership of the Kingston Ranch.”