Deborah Camp (4 page)

“What about your new mama?”

For a few moments Drew didn’t know who Monroe was talking about. When he figured it out, he turned his head and spat the bad taste from his mouth.

“She’s my father’s widow, not my new mama. I’ll deal with her. I’m going into town and I’ll buy her some pretty things, then send her on her way. Her and her baby.”

Monroe chuckled. “I’d pay to see that.”

“To see what?”

“You sending her on her way and her going meek as you please. You aren’t the only one with big plans, you know. She thinks she’s going to be a cattle rancher, a wheat farmer, and a rich, respected lady, all rolled into one. Until she discovers different, she won’t be willing to leave the Square D behind.”

Drew shrugged. “I’ll let her stay for a few days, maybe a few weeks, then she’ll have to move on. She’ll see what’s what soon enough.” He stood and wedged his hat onto his head. “Just wanted to drop by and say howdy.”

“Well, hell, it’s good to have you home.” Monroe stood and slapped him on the back, then pumped his hand again. “Don’t be a stranger. Come by for a game of cards one night.”

“I’ll do it,” Drew promised. He went down the steps
and crossed the yard to where he’d left Dynamite.

“Don’t be surprised if your other neighbors don’t welcome you home.”

Atop Dynamite, Drew cocked his head to the side, struck by that remark. “Why? I’m innocent.”

“I always knew that, but folks around here might think different. We haven’t had any cattle missing since you’ve been away.” Monroe sent him a hard wink. “If anybody gives you any trouble, you be sure and let me know. I’ll set ‘em straight right quick.”

“Is Carlsbad still the sheriff?”

“No, it’s Amos Nelson now. He’s a good man. Tries to be fair.”

“So you think the folks around here won’t trust me? Even though I was released from prison?”

“People are funny, Drew. Until they’re sure about you—well, just watch out for yourself.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to anybody.” Drew jerked on the reins and spun the stallion around. “Be seeing you.” He set in his spurs, and Dynamite broke into a wind-slicing run across the flat land.

He hoped there wouldn’t be any more trouble. He’d had himself a bellyful of it.

“Just why didn’t y’all ever tell me that A.J. had another son?” Cassie demanded of T-Bone and Gabe.

The two men stood under the boiling sun and wiped their sweaty faces with grime-streaked handkerchiefs.

“Truth to tell, we didn’t neither one know whether Drew wanted anybody to know he existed,” T-Bone said. “He ain’t had a rosy life and he mighta wanted to disappear. The old man sure never mentioned him after he left.”

“Only in his dagburned will!” Cassie huffed and threw the sack of biscuits and sausage at Gabe. “There. Something for y’all to eat.”

“And about time, too.” Gabe looked around. “Let’s go grab some shade under that there oak tree and gobble this down, Tee.”

“Sounds like heaven to me.”

Cassie followed the two bow-legged men to the shady spot, where they hunkered down and swallowed the sandwiches. Gabe was the taller and as thin as a rail. He had a boyish face full of freckles. T-Bone was older. Cassie figured he was at least fifty, while Gabe was around thirty. T-Bone’s beard and mustache were grizzled, but he was spry and quick when he wanted to be.

“Does Drew aim to stay awhile?” Gabe asked.

“He aims to take over the ranch,” Cassie answered crossly. “But I won’t let him.”

“How you gonna stop him?” T-Bone asked, wiping sausage grease from his mustache.

“By digging in my heels,” Cassie retorted. “He might be bigger and meaner, but I’m not moving off this land. I earned every last acre of it.”

“But the old man willed it to Andrew James Dalton Junior and—”

“And who is to say that A.J. didn’t mean
my
Junior? You said yourself that he never mentioned his firstborn, so why would he think to leave his ranch to him? A.J. named Andy, not me.”

Gabe scratched at his chin stubble. “She’s got a point.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think a judge would see it that way,” T-Bone said.

“Judge? Who says we’re going to court?” A tingle
of alarm feathered through Cassie. Lord God, if Blue Eyes took this to court, would she have a leg to stand on? She felt the world wobble underneath her. “There won’t be any judge deciding
my
future. It’s in my hands and I’m staying put. Seems to me that Blue Eyes isn’t too interested in the place, or he would have showed up months ago. Where’s he been all this time anyway?”

Gabe and T-Bone exchanged a long glance that made Cassie take notice.

“You two know where he’s been?”

T-Bone ducked his head. “I reckon you should ask him.”

“I reckon I will.” Cassie smoothed the work gloves over her hands.

“How come you call him Blue Eyes?” Gabe asked.

The question brought her up short, and she felt her cheeks heat up. ‘“Cause his eyes are blue,” she said, trying to make the least of it.

Gabe grinned. “So are mine.”

Cassie whirled toward her horse. “Let’s get to work, men. Daylight is slipping away from us.”

“Is he staying at the house?” T-Bone asked.

“If he is, he’s staying in the bunkhouse or the barn, not in
my
house.”

“Lordy, lordy, lordy,” Gabe moaned.

“What?” Cassie asked, eyeing Gabe’s mournful expression.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just dreading all the fussing and fighting. It’s been so peaceful since A.J. died.”

“There won’t be any fighting,” Cassie assured him. “If he gets too ornery, I’ll pull out my .45 and plug him.”

“Lordy, lordy, lordy,” Gabe moaned again, while T-Bone shook with laughter.

“What’s so dagblamed funny, besides Gabe’s belly-achin’?” Cassie demanded.

“Nothing, nothing,” T-Bone said, still chuckling as he waved aside the question. “You tickle me when you get all puffed up, that’s all. You remind me of a little old horny toad.”

Cassie reached out and tugged at the brim of T-Bone’s floppy brown hat. “If that isn’t a fine thing to say to a lady! No wonder you’ve never married, Tee. No woman wants to be called a toad.”

“She makes me think of one of them spread adders,” Gabe spoke up, his round blue eyes growing even rounder. “You seen one of them snakes? They’re little, but when they get scared, they spread out and make themselves look bigger.”

“A toad and a snake,” Cassie said with a grin. “It’s good to know what you men think of me.”

“Aw, now, boss lady, we were just poking fun at you,” T-Bone said. “Ain’t that right, Gabe?”

“Sure nuff,” Gabe agreed. “Besides, I think some snakes are right pretty. ‘Course, I wouldn’t want to pet one or have it in bed with me—” He broke off and his face flamed a bright red. “I-I… that is, I wasn’t saying that I’d want you in bed with me… that is—aw hell, quit laughing at me, Tee!”

Cassie grabbed a shovel and sent the business end down into the crusty earth. “Let’s get to work, fellas, before we talk ourselves into even more trouble.”

T
hey were unsaddling their horses in the dying light when Blue Eyes rode up on them out by the barn, his stallion prancing and snorting and showing off. Cassie glanced at T-Bone and Gabe to gauge their reactions and was stunned to see them both break into huge smiles, thrilled to see him again.

Her two wranglers pulled Blue Eyes from the saddle and slapped his back and pumped his hand and grinned like monkeys.

If that don’t beat all
, Cassie fumed.
Them treating him like the returning king, glad to be shed of their sitting queen!
She stood to one side, arms folded, a stony expression fixed on her face. After a minute or two, they felt her granite-hard glare and turned toward her. T-Bone and Gabe hung their heads and kicked at tufts of grass. Smirking, Blue Eyes opened his saddlebag and removed a parcel wrapped in white paper and tied with twine. He extended it toward her.

“Got something for you.”

She eyed the parcel but made no move to take it. “What is it?”

“Something for you,” he repeated.

“Where’d you get it?”

“In town.”

She regarded him warily, wondering what trick he was playing now. Her curiosity piqued, she took the parcel from him and untied the twine.

“You might want to wait until you get inside before you open …” His voice trailed off as she lifted the frilly hem of a petticoat.

“What have we here?” she said, cold fury changing her voice to a dangerous purr. “Why, if it ain’t a new set of petticoats and a new town dress! Oh, and looky here. A lacy hanky and a bottle of perfume.” She looked toward T-Bone and Gabe, who were both shifting uneasily from foot to foot, their faces turning red. “Ain’t that something, boys? He thinks he can buy me off with a dress and some underclothes.” She seared Blue Eyes with a smoking glare. “Mister, I’ve been offered a helluva lot more for this place. You insult me. You think I’ve never had pretty dresses and perfume?” She tipped back her head and let loose a harsh laugh. “There was a time when I’d use this here garment as a polishing rag!” She tossed the parcel back at him and he caught it against his chest. “And I’ve got no use for perfume on a cattle ranch. No, thanks.” She stalked to the house.

“You’re welcome,” he called after her before she could slam the door against his voice.

“That peckerwood,” she grumbled, tossing her hat and gloves onto the table.

Oleta was stirring a pot of beans on the stove. “Is that blue-eyed man back?”

“Yes.” Cassie dropped into a chair, feeling depleted and defeated. She hated Junior for making her feel that
way. “You were watching out the window, so don’t pretend like you don’t know what happened.”

“What was in the package?” Oleta asked, abandoning any pretense.

“A dress and perfume. Can you believe that? He thinks he can buy me some clothes and I’ll get all giddy-headed and hand over my ranch to him.”

“His ranch, he say. He is Junior.”

“He is out of luck if he thinks he’s going to run this ranch while I head for the nearest town in my pretty new dress.” That he would treat her with such frivolous regard made her blood thicken to molasses consistency. “Where’s he been all this time anyway? Off gallivanting, that’s where,” she answered for Oleta. “He’s been whoring and gambling while I dealt with his ornery old pappy. He probably heard that A.J. died, so he came back here and expects me to hand over the ranch. Ha!” She shot up from the chair and began to pace furiously. “I’d rather eat a mile of dirt than turn over one acre to him.”

Oleta pulled a bitter face. “Eat dirt? Phwu-ee! Why do that? Why not talk to him and maybe he can help you with this place?”

“I don’t need his help.”

“You need somebody’s help.”

“Who says?” Cassie challenged, stopping to glare at the girl, then regretting it when Oleta ducked her head so that a black curtain of hair fell along either side of her face. “Don’t hide from me.” Cassie laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m not yelling at you. I’m just—just yelling. Shouting at the Devil. I don’t mean to frighten you, Oleta. Now, why do you think I need
somebody’s help? I’m getting this place into shape. It’s better than it was before A.J. died.”

Oleta shrugged. “I wasn’t here when he lived. All I know is that a woman cannot work a ranch by herself. She needs a man.”

“I’ve got two.”

“T-Bone is getting old, and Gabe, he is getting lazy. That man—that Junior man—he is strong and young. If he feels that this is his ranch, he will make sure it runs good. He could help you.”

“I don’t want him thinking that this ranch is his.”

“But it is his,” Oleta said, her simple statement slicing through Cassie like a hot knife. “He was raised up here.”

“But he doesn’t care about it like I do. Otherwise, he would have stuck around.”

The door opened and the object of their discussion strode inside. Dropping his bedroll, and the parcel containing the dress and petticoat onto the floor at his feet, he then hung his hat on a peg—the one usually reserved for Cassie’s hat—and pulled off his gloves.

“What’s for supper?”

“What’s f-for—?” Cassie stuttered in frustration. “You’re expecting to stay for supper, are you?”

“Sure, don’t mind if I do, thanks.” He sniffed the air. “Beans and cornbread?”

Oleta giggled and turned her back to him to remove a round pan of yellow bread from the oven. He glanced around and his gaze came to rest on the loft.

“What’s up there now?”

“I’m going to make it my office.”

“Office?” He arched a brow. “You going into business? Maybe opening a bank?”

“I’m putting my office up there,” she said, bristling. “Haven’t had time to arrange things yet, but I will. My desk is up there, and I’m going to build shelves for my records and other paperwork. Then I’m going to—”

“Yeah, well, for now I’ll make use of it as my bedroom, seeing as how Oleta and you have hogged up the others.” He moved toward the ladder, bedroll tucked under one arm, but Cassie blocked his path. “You got something to say about that, too, I guess,” he added.

“You bet. If you’re staying, you can bunk with T-Bone and Gabe.”

He shook his head. “Not a chance, sugar britches. Now get out of my way. I don’t want to tangle with you.”

She tried on a smirk of her own, but she was no match for him. Besides, that “sugar britches” remark had her mind reeling like a drunk on Saturday night. “You don’t want to tangle with me, huh?” she repeated. It was the best she could do at the moment, however lame.

“Not if you aren’t lying stretched out with me on top of you, no.”

Oleta gasped, and Cassie had to hold her breath to keep from doing the same thing. Her face heated like a stove lid, and she wondered why she was so flustered, so embarrassed. After all, this wasn’t the first lewd proposition she’d heard. He seized the moment and sidestepped her. Before she could recover, he was already halfway up the ladder, agile as a mountain cat.

“You can’t stay in here with us,” she said, wincing when her voice came out plaintive instead of forceful. “It’s not decent. We don’t know you.”