Free Rustler's Moon by Jodi Thomas Page A

keeps up with donations and bills. We don’t charge for our time, but the volunteers keep a count of attendance and give tours. The building is open from nine to five, six days a week. If you take a day off, all you have to do is call one of the board members to step in.”
    “That’s it? That’s all the staff?” Angela listed in her mind all the duties that didn’t include greeting or cleaning. Kirkland had probably explained it to her during the phone interview but she’d been so excited and tired she must have missed the details.
    “Of course we have others. Anyone doing community service is sent here to do yard work. The judge tends to make the hours longer around mid-November to help put up Christmas lights. But don’t worry about the Christmas party, it’s still two months away and the school tours don’t get packed back-to-back until spring.”
    Angela was glad she was sitting down. She did her best to understand what the sheriff was saying, but invisible boulders kept falling on her head. She was the only employee.
    “Anything else I should know about?”
    Dan looked out the window. “There is Carter Mayes. You’ll see his little RV parked out here on the museum lot now and then. He comes every spring and stays till late fall, has for years. Folks say he’s looking for something he lost in the canyon when he was a kid, but I think he just loves walking the back trails. Don’t worry about him. He’s a good guy.”
    She saw a lean figure far down in the canyon moving slowly toward the bottom. Carter Mayes.
    “Anything else?” the sheriff asked with his hand on the door.
    “Yes,” she said. “I think I’ll go back to my maiden name.” It seemed like a good idea, since she’d never really been engaged to the man named Jones, who never really existed. “When I talked to Mr. Kirkland, I thought I’d be married, but it didn’t happen.”
    Dan grinned. “Who knows, Miss Harold, that might have been for the best. I’ve been trying to recover from a wedding for fifteen years. But no regrets. I got my Lauren away at college. If I brag about her too much, stop me.”
    “I will.” She smiled, wondering if her father had ever talked so proudly about her. Maybe he had.
    “Makes sense to clear up the name. Folks would get confused.” Dan nodded. “A few started calling you Harold the minute they heard the bastard didn’t move to Texas with you.”
    She stared at the sheriff. “What makes you think he was a bastard?”
    Dan smiled and stepped through the threshold. “He’d have to be, Angie, if he left a find like you.”
    As his footsteps echoed down the stairs, Angela fought back a giggle. That was the nicest thing she could remember anyone ever saying to her.
    But her head was spinning. Maybe she had made a mistake changing back to her real last name, but despite her father’s warning, why would anyone come after her? The people in Crossroads already knew her real name. She hadn’t said anything when she’d signed Harold on the lease for the cabin made out to Angela Jones. Now the fake name on the lease would keep her safe. If she was careful, she could leave little record of her real name.
    But then, what did it matter if the people called her Harold now that she was here? They weren’t likely to run into any of her relatives half a continent away.
    Time to stop worrying about her family and dive into work. This was her new life, her new beginning. She had been so unimportant in her father’s family they’d probably forgotten her by now anyway.
    Angela grinned, remembering how last Thanksgiving Uncle Anthony’s latest wife had moved the family’s big dinner and forgotten to mention it to her or her father. Now, if any of them dropped by the beach house on Anna Marie Island, they probably wouldn’t be worried enough to ask where she’d gone.
    She picked up her notepad and went downstairs. One of the volunteers was giving a tour this afternoon, and she planned to learn as much as