Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) (6 page)

The woman blinked her eyes and nodded.
"Honey, you don't mean to tell me that the three
of you think you can run this place alone?"

"We went through a lot to get here. I will do
whatever I must to make this a home for my
brother and sister."

The woman's eyes softened, and so did her
voice. "Why, you are hardly more'n a young'un yourself." She walked around each one of them.
"I should of knowed you right away from all your
uncle told me 'bout you."

"This," Casey said, nodding at her brother, "is
Sam. My name is Casey, and the child is our little
sister, jenny. Our last name is Hamilton."

"Your uncle called you by different names. He
called you Cassandra, you'd be Samuel, and the
little one there would be Jennifer."

Jenny peeked her head around Sam's leg and
said in a disgruntled voice, "I'm mad at my sister.
I want to sleep with the chickens, and she won't
let me."

The woman chuckled and then laughed so
hard she had to wipe her tears on the sleeve of
her shirt. "Lord have mercy on us all. I have three
children on my hands."

"I didn't quite get your name," Sam said, stepping closer, and asserting his authority.

Casey knew by the set of his shoulders that he
was tired of people pushing them around. First it
had been the wagon master who tried to send
them home, then the man at the river, and now
this woman.

"Well, young man, my name is Kathryn Eldridge. Folks hereabout just call me Kate."

Casey had a million questions to ask the
woman. "Mrs. Eldridge-"

"Not Mrs. I ain't never been married. Never
found a man I could stand to be 'round for more
than a week at a time. Just call me Kate."

"Kate, what happened here? My mother had
wonderful memories of growing up on the Spanish Spur. This looks nothing like the place she
described to us."

"Honey, this house has been sitting vacant for
more'n two years. Thieves took most of the furniture, 'cept the few things I managed to lock in
the storage shed. All your uncle's papers are
there, and a few family things you might be interested in."

Casey glanced about her in distress. "I don't
even know where to start cleaning."

"Now that ain't your biggest worry. Your worry
is going to be Cyrus Slaughter, the meanest, orneriest, most cantankerous old man you'll ever
meet up with. He owns half of Texas and won't
be satisfied until he gets the rest. Now, this here
ranch stands between his Casa Mesa ranch and
the Brazos. He's had his eye on this spread for
quite a spell. Your uncle always let him water his
herd at the river, but that wasn't good enough for
Cyrus-he won't stop until he drives you off or
buries you."

"No one can be that mean," Sam said in disbelief.

"Well, you may think different when you get to
know him. I have a notion he's been driving off
some of your cattle, and I suspect, although I
can't prove it, he's been sticking his own brand
on some of 'em."

It was too much for Casey to absorb all at once.

"If he's that bad, he should be arrested."

"Hell, gal, ain't no lawman going to go up
against him. He'll do whatever it takes to drive
you away." She cradled her rifle in her arms.
Your uncle wanted you to know about Cyrus, so
I told you right off. And, honey, he's going to run
right over you three youngsters like you weren't
even there."

Sam slid his arm around Casey's waist to comfort her and to find comfort for himself. "This is
our home now, and we'll do whatever we have to
do to protect it."

Kate looked as if she would like to say more,
but she turned away and called over her shoulder,
"After you've tended the horses, come on up to
the house, and IT feed you. I got a big garden
behind my house, and my guess is you three ain't
had any fresh vegetables in a spell. You look like
you could use a good meal."

Sam and jenny had been asleep for over an hour,
but Casey had too much on her mind to sleep.
And with her shoulder hurting, it was hard to find
a comfortable position.

She tried to find a bright side to their situation,
but there didn't seem to be one. If it had been
Kate's intention to frighten her with talk about
Cyrus Slaughter, she had certainly succeeded.
Should she take the initiative-visit the rancher
and introduce herself-or should she wait for
him to make the first move? She wondered how much repair work would be necessary before they
could move into the house.

Casey recalled her mother mentioning the
fierce weather in this part of Texas. They had to
make the house livable before winter set in. According to Kate, they had about two months before the weather turned bad.

And how were they going to live in the meantime? They hadn't much money. Maybe the best
thing to do would be to sell the Spanish Spur to
Mr. Slaughter, if he wanted it so badly. But that
would leave them without a home, and she wasn't
ready to admit defeat-not yet. And perhaps Mr.
Slaughter wasn't as bad as Kate had said.

Casey pushed the covers aside and felt around
in the dark until she found a shawl to throw over
her nightgown. There was no need to get dressed,
because there wouldn't be anyone about. She slid
her feet into her slippers, then climbed down
from the wagon as quietly as she could so she
wouldn't disturb Sam and Jenny.

She noticed a light was still burning in the
cabin. It seemed that Kate couldn't sleep either.
Casey stared up at the stars and wished she knew
what her father would expect them to do. There
was no one she could turn to for help.

She made her way to the house and seated herself on the top step, unwilling to go inside the
dark interior. She felt the cool breeze on her
cheeks and pushed her hair away from her face.
She had made so many choices since her father's death; suppose she had been wrong in insisting
they come to Texas? If only they could somehow
manage to hold on to this ranch, it would one day
belong to Sam-and she wanted that for him.

"I see you didn't take my advice."

Casey jumped to her feet at the sound of the
man's voice. "What... who..." Although she saw
only his shadowy form, she knew who it was. She
would never forget that voice. He was the man
who had helped them with the wagon. "What are
you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing."

Even if she couldn't see his face, she imagined
the look of disapproval etched there. She suddenly remembered that she was wearing her
nightgown and gathered the shawl tighter about
her. He took a step toward her, and all she could
focus on was the gun in his holster. She thought
about calling for help, but Sam would be no
match for this man.

"The Spanish Spur belongs to my family, and
you are trespassing." Her legs were trembling with
fear, and she didn't think she had ever been so
frightened. If only she had thought to bring the
rifle-if only she had taken the time to dress-
she wouldn't feel quite so vulnerable and at such
a disadvantage.

Casey felt his gaze on her, as if he were weighing her words. "How can you say the ranch belongs to you when I know Bob Reynolds would
never sell the Spanish Spur?"

Although she was afraid of him and she wanted
to run away, she stood her ground. "Bob Reynolds
was my uncle. I would have told you before if you
hadn't been so rude."

He stepped into the moonlight, and she tried
to pull away when he clamped her chin and raised
her face to his. Refusing to allow him to intimidate her, she met his gaze defiantly. In that moment, she saw a look of puzzlement in his eyes,
and his touch was gentle as he brushed his hand
through her hair.

"It seems the females in your family have a tendency to wander into danger," he remarked.

He dropped his hand to his side, and in that
moment Casey knew instinctively that he would
not harm her.

The young beauty stood before Gabe, the
moonlight washing her pale skin with an ethereal
light. She touched something deep inside him,
and he wanted nothing more than to stand between her and any trouble that might come her
way. How could he have mistakenly thought she
was homely when she had the kind of beauty that
pulled at a man's insides, made him want to touch
her skin to see if it was as soft as it appeared?

Suddenly he stiffened; he had forgotten she
had a husband. "I see you washed the mud from
your face," he said, trying to distance himself from
her.

"I... had fallen in the river."

His gaze strayed across her soft mouth, and he mentally shook himself. "You have a lot to think
about, ma'am." He didn't trust himself to be near
her, so he moved farther away. "I'll be seeing
you.

She took a guarded breath as he moved past
her and disappeared into the night. With hurried
steps, she ran toward the wagon and climbed inside. Her heart was pounding so fast she could
hardly breathe.

She lay back beside jenny and took the child's
hand in hers, hoping she could find comfort in
her sister's nearness.

Something deep and meaningful had happened to her when the stranger had touched her.

But what?

He had stirred feelings inside her that she had
never felt before. It was as if he had opened a
door and all her emotions had come rushing out.
She didn't even know his name or anything about
him. She was confused and troubled, and hoped
never to see him again, and yet, if she didn't,
something very precious would be lost.

Kate laid her book on the wobbly table beside her
chair and rubbed her tired eyes. Her sight - was
getting worse-so much so that she had to struggle to read a line, much less a page. And she did
so love to read.

She was becoming a nocturnal creature because
she had so much trouble sleeping. She had always
been able to get by on four or five hours of sleep
a night. Lately, though, since Bob had died, she
would feel lucky if she got half that amount. He'd
been the only person she had ever truly respected, and in her way, she had loved him. She
would always be beholden to him because he had
saved her from living a very different life from the
one he had provided for her.

She was lucky it had been he who came into
the Yellow Dog Saloon that night twenty years
ago. Kate had never known her pa, and her ma
had died when she was twelve. She had found work at the saloon, scrubbing and cleaning rooms
for a place to sleep behind the stairs. And that
was how she had lived until one night when Patty,
one of the saloon girls, had run away with a buffalo hunter. Kate had certainly never been a
beauty. But it hadn't mattered, because the owner
had been short one girl, and it had been payday
for the wranglers of the nearby ranches. He had
ordered her to change into Patty's costume and
to be nice to the men, or he'd throw her out on
the street.

Bob Reynolds had been the first to buy her a
drink and to take her to the room upstairs. Bob,
who had seen her tears and listened to the story
of her life-Bob, who had taken her away with
him that very night. They had not made love then
or anytime since. He had made her a vow that he
would never lay a hand on her, that he would see
she was always safe. He had kept his promise and
built her this house.

There had been lovers-mostly some of the
cowhands who worked at the ranch. Bob had had
his women, but the two of them had never been
together that way. Their feelings went much
deeper than lust-they were the very best of
friends. They had been sympathetic to each other
in troubled times, and they had laughed together
in happy times. And now he was gone, and she
was left behind to mourn him.

She had never felt she had given Bob as much
as he had given her, but now she would repay him by looking after his kin. He had talked about his
only sister's children a lot. Although he had never
seen them, they had corresponded with him regularly.

When the soft rap came on the door, she expected it to be one of the Hamiltons. She was
surprised when she found out who her visitor was.

"Well, as I live and breathe, can it really be you,
Gabriel? Come on in and set yourself down."

"I wouldn't have disturbed you this late, Kate,
but I saw your light."

She gave him a wide grin and patted his shoulder, drawing him into the house and closing the
door behind him. He had removed his hat, but
he was still so tall that he'd had to duck under
the door frame.

Gabe knew that Bob Reynolds had built this
house especially for Kate, and since she was so
petite, everything seemed to be in miniature. It
was like an oversize dollhouse. He, like many
other people, had speculated about Kate's relationship with the old man, but no one really knew
for sure.

"I never mind being disturbed by a handsome
man. Make yourself to home. Do you want some
coffee--or maybe you'd like something stronger?
I don't have any of the good stuff, but I have a
jug that'll knock your boots off."