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Captured Secrets (Seven Tine Ranch Romance Book 1)

By Carmen Peone

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C AP T U R E D S E C R E T S
A Novel
Book 1 of the Seven Tine Ranch series
BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA
Captured Secrets
Iron Stream Fiction
An imprint of Iron Stream Media
100 Missionary Ridge
Birmingham, AL 35242
IronStreamMedia.com
Copyright © 2023 by Carmen Peone

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—
without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Iron Stream Media serves its authors as they express their views,
which may not express the views of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents
are all products of the author’s imagination or are used for
fictional purposes. Any mentioned brand names, places, and
trademarks remain the property of their respective owners, bear
no association with the author or the publisher, and are used for
fictional purposes only.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022942123
Cover design by For the Muse Designs
Author photo by Laura Sigmund Photography
ISBN: 978-1-64526-361-6 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-64526-360-9 (eBook)
1 2 3 4 5—27 26 25 24 23

To Collette Jo, may you find peace in heaven.

God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present
help in trouble.
—Psalm 46:1


CHAPTER 1

Nespelem, Washington, Colville Confederated Reservation
Tuesday, June 13

Cooper Payne’s words clawed at Sydney Moomaw. Leave me and I’ll kill you. His seductive smile in the photo she held made her shudder. Her hands trembled as she put a match to the snapshot, let it burn a few seconds, and flicked it into the Seven Tine Guest Ranch’s rustic stone fireplace.
“Worthless pig!”

His curly blond hair and indigo eyes had tricked her once. Never again. She’d left his hide at the courthouse years ago––makeup covered her bruises while handcuffs bound his wrists.

“Who are you talking about?” Glenda Williams, Sydney’s older sister, asked.
“Cooper. I found a photo of him last night stuck to the pages of my old college marketing binder.” Sydney placed the lighter on the wooden mantel, then peered absently out the bay windows of the lodge’s great room. When he got out of jail, would Cooper try to find her? Come after her again?

“It’s about time you tell Mom and Dad. Besides, I’m tired of keeping your secrets.”

The Moomaws were about to leave for an Alaska cruise.
“They don’t need to know.” The marriage had only lasted about six months. The first month seemed great at the time, partying with her friend Jaycee and his rodeo buddies. Until Cooper hooked up with the wrong crowd and started using hard drugs. The kind that led to fiery outbursts and broken ribs.

“If you don’t say something when they come back, I will.”

“It’s my life. My business—”

“Oh, sheesh. It’s time to grow up and tell the truth. We’re not little girls anymore. Would you rather them hear about your past from someone else?” Glenda headed for the ranch office, weaving through a handful of guests lingering in the dining area.

The heels of Glenda’s western boots clicking on the wooden floorboards grated on Sydney’s nerves. She hated her sister’s constant harping. Always telling her what to do and how. Besides, her parents didn’t need the added strain.
Running the guest ranch was stressful enough.

“We’re ready, Syd,” her mother, Jennie Moomaw, called from the massive, wooden entryway. “Can you check in the new guests? They’ll be here anytime. And Glenda, did you find my favorite sweater?”

Sydney wiped her hands on her jeans and went to help her mom, passing through the foyer lined with weathered boots in various colors and sizes, a few coiled ropes hanging from hooks, and a rectangular information table.
“I’ll get this for you.” She rolled her mom’s suitcase to the brown three-quarter-ton pickup and hefted it onto the bed. With light Monday traffic, her folks were expected to make good timing to the Spokane airport. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll take care of everything while you and Daddy are sipping drinks from the ship’s deck.”

Glenda caught up to them at the truck, a light green sweater and cell phone in hand. “How about a family photo?”

“That would be lovely, dear,” Jennie said before Sydney could stop her. She gathered her husband and two daughters in front of the ranch steps like a hen collecting her chicks, then glanced around. “Where’s Robert?”

“He’s catching horses for my riding lessons this morning,” Sydney answered. Robert Elliot was Sydney and Glenda’s half brother and ranch foreman. They shared the same father but didn’t know it until recently. “He told me he’d said goodbye last night.”

“Darn. I wanted him in the photo.” Jennie let out a heavy sigh.

“Next time. We need to get you guys on the road.” Sydney placed an arm around her mother’s waist.

Glenda attached a selfie stick to her phone and snapped a couple of photos. “This should do.” She hugged her folks.

“Safe travels, and for once, let loose and have a little fun.”

Jennie laughed, hugged Sydney, and climbed into the pickup. “We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Get some rest, Mom.” Sydney covered her mother’s icy hand with hers. “And don’t let Dad stuff himself,” she teased as she shut the door.

For months now, she’d noticed something wrong with her mom but couldn’t pinpoint it. Based on the way Jennie had been raised, she kept most personal matters to herself. Sydney prayed this trip would revive her. Get her back on her feet.

Jennie nodded, her weathered face etched in deep creases. “Wish me luck!"

Standing outside the pickup, Lester Moomaw stared at the weathered horse barn—a Ponderosa pine–covered knoll its backdrop. A tricolored Australian shepherd with reddish-brown eyebrows sat beside him. Caliber’s shaggy tail stirred the dirt.
Sydney joined her bow-legged father and hugged him from behind. He always wore the same thing, dusty black cowboy boots and faded blue jeans with long shirtsleeves buttoned at the wrists. Cropped hair told he was a veteran. A faded gold ring circled his left finger. He carried a multi-tool in a holster on his hip.

“The colt’s going to make it, ya know.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his balding head. “Remember to leave your tools in the truck. Airport security might cuff ya.” She winked at him.

He gave her a small smile and nodded, patted his dog for a long moment, and slipped behind the wheel.

“We’ll take care of Caliber too. Don’t worry, Daddy, we got this.”

“I know you do.” Lester rubbed her hand as it rested on the door.

Excited for her parents’ long-earned vacation, she waved goodbye, watching the dust swirl as the truck bounced down their half-mile driveway. She was thankful so many people had pitched in to help pay for the anniversary gift.

Sydney rubbed the back of her neck as a sharp pain inched its way up her head, settling on her forehead. She shuffled to the office, pinching the bridge of her nose, and fished in her floral Western-tooled purse for migraine medication. Her fingers found a plastic box. She set a tiny tablet on her tongue, then went to the lodge’s coffee bar and poured a strong cup of joe to wash away the residual, bitter taste. Her head spun for several minutes, which was normal for her.

Once she caught her balance, she settled her sunglasses on her nose and plucked her Stetson off the rack. The thermometer on the covered porch read sixty-five degrees, and it was only ten. Awesome. Another scorcher in the forecast, which was unusual for this time of year. With an oncoming migraine, morning riding lessons would be brutal, but the smiles on the young guests’ faces would help her endure the pain.

“Robert says he’s got the horses saddled and tied to the hitching post for you,” Glenda said as she leaned against the doorjamb. After studying her for a moment, she added, “Maybe you need to cancel your riding lessons.”

Good grief. Enough already. “I’m fine.” Sydney waved her sister’s offer away.

“He said one little girl has to change into jeans. She came in a frilly skirt.” Glenda folded her arms over her chest. “You sure you don’t want me to have him take over the lesson for you? I can holler at him on my way out.”

“No. I got it.” If only she’d go back to work. “Shoot, I need to check on the foal first.”

“Oh, he also said there’s a busted pipe in the north field that’s flooding the place.” Glenda patted the door frame.

“Well, then, I better get back to council chambers.” She disappeared around a corner.

Good grief. Busted pipes, vet bills, feed bills—what next? Sydney slinked to the barn, praying her head would stop pounding. Once at the colt’s stall, she gripped the handle to steady herself, then slid the door open. The vet had assured the family the blue roan would survive. Twister lay in the straw, eyes closed, his plume of a tail swatting at a pesky fly. Dropping to the fresh-smelling straw, she held gentle pressure to his soft side. “You have to make it,” she whispered.

Heat from his bony ribs penetrated the skin on her palm and shot right to her heart. She backed into the aisle and shut the door, grimacing with every squeak. She called the vet and left a message on his voice mail, hoping he could come by later in the day and check on the foal again. The ranch didn’t need more vet bills, but with an exceptional line like Blue Valentine, she could not afford a death as he could potentially be a huge moneymaker.

God knew the ranch needed the added income. There were too many bills and not enough cash coming in. Cattle prices had been inflated for too long. Plus, her heart would crack in two if anything happened to the little guy.

“Ready?” Robert held his charcoal eyes on her, his brows furrowed. They matched his clean-cut hair. “You OK?”

Sydney nodded. “My meds will kick in soon.” Robert held out reins attached to her mare, Cyan, a blue roan. She sighed and took hold of the leather straps. “We have to keep track of his temperature and keep the stall clean. We also need to watch for dehydration and make sure he’s eating.”

“I’ll let the others know so we can all keep an eye on him.” He wiped his hands on his ragged jeans.

“Let’s make sure we initial when the stall is cleaned and his temp is checked.” She tapped a clipboard hanging from a nail on the wall outside his stall. “There’s a spot on his chart to jot things down.”

“Don’t worry, he’s a fighter.”

“Hope so.” She gave him a small smile, holding back hot tears, and patted Cyan on the neck. Robert’s coming to live with them when he was nine—after his mother had passed from cancer—had been a huge gift from Creator. He’d always pulled his weight. “Good luck with the pipes.”

“I’ll need it,” he said over his shoulder. He jumped into his Toyota Tacoma and sped off, dirt spraying from behind the tires.

As she led her mare from the barn, Sydney squinted and pulled her hat down to shade the sun, but she pasted on a smile. “You guys ready?”

With squeals of delight, five elementary-aged children surrounded her. She winced.

“Let’s keep our voices low today, all right?”

Their eager faces made her wonder what the daughter she’d given up at birth looked like. She’d be sixteen by now. Would she be a mix of her and Cooper? Or would she resemble Sydney? Where did she live? Was she safe? Sydney could only hope. She considered what her interests might be: sports, music, horses.
She vowed to make sure Cooper never found out about her.

During the next hour, she taught the kids how to ride with balance and control, using their legs, seat, and reins. How wonderful it would have been to have taught her daughter. She shoved the thoughts away and concentrated on the students in the arena. When their lesson was finished, she tied the horses to hitching posts for a rest between rides, then faced the little ones again. “Who wants ice cream?”

“I do! I do!”

Without a backward look, they ran to the lodge, shouting what flavors they wanted.

Laughing, Sydney stopped to cool off at a spigot circled by grass and colorful flowers. The migraine pill made her mouth dry as sagebrush. Sweat poured down her back. Weak-kneed, she flipped up the spigot handle and sipped cool water, then rinsed her head and neck.

The clock on her phone indicated she’d have time to work on her new marketing plan before the vet arrived to check on Twister. The new ad proofs of the horses she’d been working on for the last few weeks made her smile.

Sydney visited with a few guests on the covered porch before grabbing a cup of vanilla-flavored coffee and going to the office. The other guests were either fishing, on a guided trail ride, or sightseeing. The area was rich in history, including the Grand Coulee Dam, which was south of Nespelem.

She settled in the leather chair, excited to start a fresh marketing project she’d planned to surprise her folks with upon their return. Suffocating heat would soon hover in the lodge office. She added a note on a lengthy list of repairs to fix the air conditioner. Her headache lingering to the point of annoyance, she tried to concentrate on her ad proofs.

When satisfied with her selections, she inserted the winning proofs into a folder. “These should prove I can handle things myself.” A tattered manila envelope from Stockton Life Insurance captured her interest. She’d opened it and tugged the contents partway out when a Tribal Police SUV caught her attention from outside the window. Sydney slipped the papers back inside their envelope and tossed them on the desk.

The vehicle parked in front of the lodge, and Chuck Williams, her brother-in-law, got out. The look on his face made Sydney’s chest tighten. She went to meet him outside, stopping on the porch’s landing. He strode toward her, shoulders drooping. Holding on to the railing, she crept down a couple of steps, shading the sun from her eyes with her hand. “Why the long face?”

“Syd,” he said, a hitch in his voice. He met her on the steps. “Your parents have been killed in an accident.”

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