Lonestar Sanctuary by Colleen Coble Page A

contained cleared check stubs and blank checks.
    She moved to the last drawer and tugged on it. It refused to budge.
Maybe it was stuck. Yanking on it, she could feel the lock that held it
in place. Why would Elijah have a locked drawer?
    The keys in the lap drawer. She pulled it open again and glanced at
the keys. They all looked like door keys until she moved them around
and found a smaller key hiding under a large one. It might fit.
Fingering it, she thought about whether she had the right to invade a
place Elijah obviously wanted to keep hidden.
    Maybe she didn't have the right, but she was going to take it anyway. She wanted to get at the truth behind all her mother had told her.
Selena had told at least some lies. Fitting the key into the lock, she
twisted it and heard it click. The drawer slid open with a gentle tug.
    Several picture albums lay in the drawer. Cracks radiated across
the leather cover of the top one, and the texture was worn smooth
along the opening edges. Allie lifted it out and ran her hand across it.
Maybe it was a record of the kids who had passed through this place
over the years.
    But if it was, why lock it up?

    She lifted the top cover and peeked at the first page. Old black-andwhite pictures with labels under them crowded the black paper. The first
picture of a little girl looked a lot like Betsy. It had to be Allie's mother.
    She flipped the pages and peered into a world fifty years in the
past. Her mother looked so happy and carefree sitting on the fence
rail with the horses in the pasture behind her. By her late teens, the
smile changed to a deadpan scowl.
    The last few pages were empty and appeared to have had pictures removed. Allie started to go to the next album when she heard
the front door slam and boot heels clatter along the wooden floor.
She dropped the album back into the drawer. Noiselessly sliding the
drawer shut, she locked it and returned the key to its place just as Rick
came through the door.
    Her face felt hot and moist, and when he stared at her for an
extra beat, she wondered if guilt stamped her features. "Everything
okay?" she asked.
    He had a rope in his hand, and dust streaked his face. "Peachy. The
bull got out and is chasing the horses. Any chance you could help me
get him? You've got a good arm."
    Pleasure surged through her at his words. Better to do something
she was good at than to sit here staring at words and numbers jumping
across the page. She rose and grabbed her cowboy hat. "Where is he?"
    "Back pasture." He led the way out the back door.
    The sunlight pierced her eyes, and she lowered her hat on her
forehead. Squinting against the dust and glare, she saw the big bull on
the other side of the fence. Tossing his head with its sharp horns, he
pranced around the field, looking as mean as any she'd seen in the ring.
    "Whooee, what a brute.You ever take him to the rodeo?" she asked.
    "Nope. I wouldn't want to be responsible for him killing someone. I told Elijah we needed to get rid of him, but he won't hear of it. The
old man loves Roscoe for some reason."

    "Roscoe. He seems too big and mean for a Roscoe," she said,
approaching the fence.
    The bull quit his posturing and erupted into action. Dirt clods
flew from under his sharp hooves as he chased the mares from corner
to corner. Good thing Betsy wasn't out here to see him cornering her
little mare. The poor thing barely had the strength to outrun the
beast. How'd he get out anyway?
    She took the rope from Rick and started to climb over the fence.
    "No, stay on this side of the fence," he said, reaching for her arm.
    She dodged his hand and vaulted. The bull hadn't seen her yet.
Looping the rope, she waited for the bovine to get closer.
    "Allie, he's dangerous!" Rick climbed the fence and came to
stand beside her. "Let me get us some horses, and we'll rope him from
horseback."
    She shook her head. "He's about to catch up with Betsy's mare."
She twirled the loop through the