Lady of the Gun (21 page)

Ramsey's attitude changed immediately.
“Barbed wire?”

"Yes
. I'm going into town now to order it. It takes several weeks for shipments from back east to get here, so I figure by the end of the month I should be able to start putting it up."

"Why would you want to do such a thing, Cass?
” he asked.

“It’s m
y right. It’s my land, and I want to protect it.”

"From what?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"The lady doesn’t have to explain herself to you, Tylo,” Brett cut in.

"I wasn't talking to you, Marshal,
” Ramsey angrily returned.

“Ramse
y, please," Cass interjected. “Brett, I don’t mind telling him, or anyone else for that matter, why I’m stringing the wire. I've decided to take ranching seriously. I’m increasing the size of my herd, and I think the best way to protect my investment is with the wire.”

"You're asking for trouble with such a fool
move, Cass,” Ramsey informed her, his voice a menacing monotone.

“From
you, Ramsey?” she asked, her eyes meeting his in a challenge.

"No, of course not from me," he assured her
unconvincingly. "But from the other ranchers in the area. If one rancher closes off a part of the range, others might want to follow suit."

"That'd be their business," Cass told him.

“An open range keeps everything even, Cass. Not everyone has easy access to water, as you do. Not everyone has access to good bottom grass. If you do this you'll be starting more trouble than it'll be worth in the long run."

“
I'll be ready for it," she answered.

Ra
msey sat very still for a moment. "I hope so," he finally told her quietly as his pale eyes did a battle with hers.

"We'd better be going, Cass,"
Brett said to break the tension.

Cass tore her gaze from Ramsey's. Somet
hing deep within their blue depths had made her uneasy. "Yes, I've got to get to town and order the wire," she said. “I'm sure we'll be seeing you around, Ramsey."

"Of course you will, my dear. I was hoping to call on you
very soon."

"Oh, well , . , ah, yes . . ." she fu
mbled, uncertain why he would continue to pursue her when he was so angry about the wire.

Ramsey
tipped his hat to her and rode away. He seethed inwardly, his fingers tightening on the reins, his jaw clenched almost painfully. He needed to discuss this new turn of events with his father. Instead of things getting better with Cass, they were definitely getting worse. He spurred his horse cruelly, urging the poor animal to a faster gait. He had to get home to see what damage had been done by Cass's visit. He'd lied to Hunt about the Fourth of July date. He'd implied that Cass was nearly ready to fall into bed with him. Now, with Cass showing up with that damned marshal at her side, announcing she was closing off the range, Hunt would know he'd exaggerated his progress with her. Ramsey thought about his father's anger with some trepidation and anger of his own.

''Well?" Cass asked as she rode alongside Brett.

"Well, what?"

"You're dying to say something. So go ahead.”

Brett looked at her sideways. She sat her horse straight,
her head high. The reins hung loose in her hands. Her twin Colts were snugly strapped to her thighs. Her shining chestnut hair hung down her back in a soft curl, the blue of her eyes rivaled that of the summer sky, and her full, pouty lips caused his heart to skip a beat. He wanted to say something all right. He wanted to tell her to give up her quest for revenge, but he knew she'd only argue with him about it, and in the end she would do exactly as she chose, despite anything he said.

"Come on, Brett. I can tell you
’re about to explode,” she prodded.

Grimacing, he spoke. "Will what I say
make any difference to you?"

"Depends on what you say. It you tell me you think
stringing barbed wire is a good way to flush out Tylo, then I'll agree with you. If you tell me not to do it . . . I’ll do it anyway," she answered honestly.

Brett sighed. "Just as I thought.
”

Cass smiled. "I
know what I'm doing, Brett.”

"I don't think you do. Tylo made a good point back
there, Cass."

"You mean Ramsey?"

"No, his father, although Ramsey echoed the statement. You're so certain that Tylo had something to do with the murders, but what about the other ranchers who use your land to get to the Losee? It might have been one of them who did it. You really haven't narrowed the field at all with this action."

Cass smiled again. "Brett, I thought about
that. First of all, my father never planned to put up wire; he only told Tylo to keep his huge herds off our land. The small herds from our other neighbors never ate away enough grass or did enough damage to warrant refusing them access.”

"But that's going to change now with the
wire.”

“
No, it won't. I plan to put in several gates around the place, just none on the Lazy T side. I'm going to tell the small ranchers they can still run through if they want to."

"Tylo wi
ll hear about it. He'll know you've singled him out, and he'll take it personally."

"Exactly," she said triumphantly.

Riding into town with the marshal, Cass was surprised to
see a huge campaign sign sporting the words "Jaybird Johnson for Sheriff" and the slogan, "A man of the people."

"'What's going on here?" she asked.

"The town's holding an election to fill Jackson's place as sheriff," Brett explained.

"But Jaybird Johnson? He's a
meddlesome bully," she exclaimed.

Brett shrugged his shoulders. "It's not
my problem. I don't live here."

Cass narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. His dark
hair curled softly over his collar, the slightest brush of a beard showed on his strong jaw, though she knew he must have shaved that morning. The color of his eyes was barely discernible beneath the shadow of his hat, but she knew their steely silver glint better than her own. He'd been in town only a short time, and yet she'd grown so used to the idea of him being around that she'd forgotten he'd be leaving soon. "Yes, you'll be heading back east, won't you?" she asked.

Brett met her gaze. "Probably," he answered. "It depends
on you," he said softly.

Cass flushed a deep crimson when she re
membered he was waiting to see whether or not she was pregnant. She realized she should know in a matter of days. "It won't be long," she told him shyly.

Brett studied her hard. "Just let me know," he said.

Cass cast her gaze downward. She wasn't pregnant, was she? She didn't feel any different. The odds were against it. And yet there was the possibility. Swallowing, she looked back up to see Brett still watching her. "You'll be the first to know," she practically whispered.

Sighing, Brett forced himself to look at something other
than Cass's beautiful face and form. "Look, there's another sign.," he said, changing the subject.

Looking for it, Cass was grateful for the respite. "Conroy?
The barber?" She giggled.

"He's not exactly what you'd call forceful," Brett commented,
smiling.

"I'd say not. I wonder what makes him think he could do
a good job as sheriff."

"I'd guess the guaranteed salary," Brett said with a sardonic
twist to his lips.

"You're probably right," she agreed. "And Jaybird wants
the job so he can bully people legally."

"That'd be my guess."

"Are they the only candidates?" she asked, looking around for more signs.

"So far, though
I've heard the undertaker is thinking about running."

"Old
Mr. Smithers? He must be seventy-five," she said, her eyes open wide with surprise.

Brett shrugged. "Some people think being a lawman
sounds easy."

"Humph," Cass snorted. "The only man in t
his whole town who's qualified is you."

Brett raised an eyebrow" "Is that an invitation to run?"

Cass looked at him once more. “I was only thinking out loud," she explained. "'But you know, it wouldn't be a bad idea," she added after a moment. "You'd have to quit your job as a marshal, though."

Brett had already been thinking about running for the
office. He just hadn't put it into words yet, and now Cass had done it for him. It had occurred to him lately that he was getting tired of all the traveling he'd been doing in the last few years. Maybe he was ready to settle down. “Yes, I'd have to do that," he commented.

"Wo
uld you want to?' Cass asked, suddenly apprehensive about his answer.

"I'm not sure. I'll have
to think about it." He wondered what she was thinking. If she was pregnant, he'd want to do the honorable thing and marry her. It would make things a lot easier if he held the job of sheriff. "Would you want me to stay in Twisted Creek?" he asked.

Cass looked down. Was he asking her for some kind of
commitment? She couldn't give him any. She wasn't sure how she felt about him. He was stunningly attractive, and she was still in shock that she'd made love to him. It was true that he could set her on fire with a single touch, but did that mean she was in love with him? She didn't think so, and besides, she couldn't let herself love anyone until she finished what she'd started. "You have to make your own decisions, Brett," she finally said.

Brett felt deflated. She hadn't said what he'd hoped she'd
say. "You're right. I'll have to think about it a while longer," he said.

"When are the elections?"

"The end of next month."

"You still have time, then, to throw your hat i
n the ring."

He nodded
.

"You'd win, you know," she remarked.

"So far, Jaybird is the favorite."

"That pompous ass? You'd beat him with one f
ist tied behind your back."

"It's not a brawl, Cass."
He smiled at her. "But thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome." Pulling her horse to a stop in front of
the general store, she dismounted. "You don't have to come in with me if you don't want to. I know you're against this."

Brett swung down out of the saddle. "No, I think I should
stick close to you while you do this crazy thing. Just in case there's trouble."

"Suit yourself." She flipped the reins over the hitching
post and stepped up on the sidewalk. The store looked busy today. Several ladies were buying fabric. One or two women were picking over the produce, and one was trying on a pair of shoes. Two old gentlemen smoked their pipes and played checkers on top of an empty pickle barrel, and three young men were ogling a new rifle in the display case. Cass took a deep breath and walked in through the open doors.

"Hello, Cassidy, I'
ll be with you in just a minute,” called the storekeeper, Jasper Martin.

Cass heard his voice but had to look around for a minute
to find him sitting on the floor behind a stack of shoe boxes in front of the woman trying to make up her mind. “That’s all right, Mr. Martin. I'm in no hurry,” she called back.

B
rett noticed that the women buying fabric began to whisper when they heard Cass's voice. The three young men also took notice of her, their voices, too, becoming muffled. He took a step closer to her.

Ca
ss looked up at Brett. "Trying to shield me from gossip, Brett?" she asked, a tender smile lighting up her features.

"I just
.."

"It's okay. I'm fairly used to it.
”

"I didn't notice it on the Fourth.
”

"I wasn't wearing trousers and guns that day.
”

"That does
seem to have an effect on people.”

"That it does." She then noticed a catalog behind the
counter. "Mr. Martin, may I look at your catalog?" she called to the storekeeper.

“Certainly
, Cass. Help yourself,” he replied.

Cass bent over and pulled the heavy catalog from behind
the counter. Laying it on the countertop, she started turning pages, looking for the barbed wire.

"Look in the farming section,
” Brett suggested.

"I'm getting there," Cass observed.

Several pages later she was looking at plows. “You know, if I put part of my land into wheat I might make a good profit.”

"You
might," Brett agreed.