The Cowboy

Prologue
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    "M argaret, promise me you'll be careful." Sarah Fleetwood Trace, struggling to get out of her frothy wedding gown with the help of her two best friends, paused and frowned. For an instant the joyous glow that had infused her all day vanished. She looked at Margaret Lark, her fey hazel eyes clouded with sudden concern.
    Margaret smiled reassuringly as she carefully lifted Sarah's veil and set it aside. "Don't worry about me, Sarah, I'll be fine. I promise to look both ways before crossing the street, count calories and not talk to strange men."
    Katherine Inskip Hawthorne, concentrating on the row of tiny buttons that followed Sarah's spine, flashed a brief grin. "Don't get carried away, Margaret. You're allowed to talk to a few strange men. Just exercise some discretion."
    Sarah groaned, her golden-brown hair moving in a heavy wave. Diamonds set in an old-fashioned gold design glittered in her ears. "This isn't a joke, you two. Margaret, I have a feeling…" She nibbled her lip in concentration. "I just want you to be careful for a while, all right?"
    "Careful?" Margaret arched her brows in amusement. "Sarah, you know I'm always careful. What could possibly happen to me while you're on your honeymoon?"
    "I don't know, that's the whole problem," Sarah said in exasperation. "I told you, I just have this feeling."
    "Forget your feeling. This is your wedding day." Kate undid the last of the buttons, green eyes sparkling with laughter. "Your famous intuition probably isn't functioning normally at the moment. All the excitement, champagne and rampaging hormones have undoubtedly gotten it temporarily off track."
    Margaret grinned as she hung up the wedding gown. "I don't know about Sarah's hormones, but I think it's a good bet Gideon's are rampaging. The last time I saw him, he was looking very impatient. We'd better get you changed and on your way, Sarah, before your husband comes looking for you. He's very good at finding things."
    Sarah hesitated, her worried gaze still on Margaret, and then she relaxed back into the glorious smile she had worn for the past few hours. "Having a big wedding was Gideon's idea. He'll just have to put up with the necessary delays."
    "Gideon doesn't strike me as the type to put up with anything he doesn't want to put up with." Margaret handed a quince-colored shirt to Sarah along with a pair of jeans.
    Kate chuckled as she reached for a brush. "I had the same impression. He's a lot like Jared in that respect. Are you really going to spend your honeymoon on a treasure hunt, Sarah? I can think of better things to do."
    "I can't," Sarah said blithely as she slipped into the jeans. She leaned toward the mirror to touch up her lipstick.
    Margaret met her eyes in the mirror, warmed by her friend's evident happiness. "Hoping to find another treasure like the Fleetwood Flowers?"
    Sarah touched the diamond earrings she was still wearing. "There will never be another treasure like the Flowers. After all, when I went looking for them, I found Gideon."
    "What did you do with the other four sets of earrings?" Kate asked.
    "Gideon has them safely hidden. He chose this pair for me to wear today." Sarah turned away from the mirror and buttoned the bright-colored shirt. "Okay, I'm ready." She hugged Kate and then Margaret. "Thank you both so much. I don't know what I would do without either of you. You're more important to me than I can ever say."
    Margaret felt herself grow a little misty. She quickly blinked away the moisture. "You don't have to say it. We all understand."
    Kate smiled tremulously. "That's right. You don't have to say it. Friends for life, right?"
    "Right. Nothing will ever change that." Sarah pulled back, her expressive face full of emotion. "There's something very special about a woman's friends, isn't there?"
    "Very special," Margaret agreed. She picked up Sarah's shoulder bag and handed it to her. "Something very special about a husband like Gideon Trace, too. Don't keep him waiting any longer."
    Sarah's eyes danced. "Don't worry, I won't."
    Margaret followed her friends into the elevator and across the hotel lobby to the large room where the wedding reception was still in full swing. A crowd composed chiefly of other writers, bookstore people and their families milled about inside, sipping champagne and dancing to the music of a small band.
    As the three women stepped through the open doorway, two big, lean men moved into their path. One of them reached for Sarah's