The Rancher (7 page)

Cole stared at his father.   He didn’tknow what to say.

“A local banker has been collecting allof the mortgage payments from thetownsfolk and store proprietors.   He’sbeen depositing the money into a branch ofthe Deardon Trust in Silver Falls.  You’llhave what you need.”

“How did you know I was gonna stay in

Silver Falls?” Cole had specifically askedhis father if he could take the lead on the

cattle drive to Silver Falls and to one certain Clayton McCallister.   Alaric’s grandparents had lived there and that is where his friend had fallen for a young girl named Abby.  It had been just over a year since Alaric died and Cole felt that the time had come to see his promise through.

“I’m looking for a Mr. Cole Alexander Redbourne, please,” the gangly man announced, looking down his nose through round wire spectacles.

“You found ‘im.” Cole tilted his hat backward and wiped the sweat from his neck.  He scooped a ladle full of water

from the bucket at the top of the well and placed it in a short tin cup.

“At last.” The man’s heels clicked together and he bent forward slightly, his head and chin tilted up.  “Mr. Redbourne, my name is Charleton Tacy. I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Tacy? I’ve got a lot of work to finish up before we head out in the morning.” Cole brought the cup to his lips and started to drink.

“Oh, I’m so pleased I caught up with

you.   I represent Mr. Alaric Kurtis Johansson, sir.” Mr. Tacy reached down and picked up a small, dusty, black case and held it in front of him.

Cole choked on the water in his mouthand   he   spit   it   out,   spraying   theunsuspecting Mr. Tacy in the process.

The man pulled a limp handkerchief fromthe pocket in his brown twill suit coat anddabbed at his face.

“I guess you haven’t been expectingme?” he asked, wiping the splatteredwater droplets from his glasses.

“No, sir. Alaric’s dead.”

“Precisely. Might we go inside?”

Cole turned and walked toward the

house without another word. When he reached the door, he looked back to find that the odd man had not followed. “You comin’?”

While Mr. Tacy scurried to the frontdoor, Cole glanced out into the corralwhere his father and Raine were workingwith one of the new horses.  He caught Raine’s eye and motioned for him to comeinside with a jerk of his head.

Mr. Tacy tipped his bowler hat as heslid past Cole into the house.

Cole was now accustomed to the wideeyed looks he received whenever he andhis brothers stood together in a room.  Thesame look appeared on Mr. Tacy’s facewhen Raine and his father joined them inthe parlor.

After some brief introductions, Coleasked again, “Now, what can I do foryou?”

Mr. Tacy removed his hat and set it onthe edge of the small round table.   Hereached down into his bag and retrieved asealed manila envelope.  He set it downon the table in front of him.

“Let   me   express   to   you   our condolences.  My firm has worked with the Johansson family for a very long time

and we are deeply sorry for your loss.” He folded his hands in front of him, resting his forearms on the table, closed his eyes, and nodded.

Raine, Jameson, and Cole all stared expectantly at the messenger.

“Yes, well, on to business.  A few days before young Alaric passed away he came into our office and added a beneficiary to his   will.   That   beneficiary,   Mr. Redbourne,” he looked at Cole, “is you.” Mr. Tacy pushed the envelope toward a disbelieving Cole.

Cole laughed darkly. “Are you trying to tell me that, what...?” He shot a glance at his brother and father, then shifted in his

seat.

“What exactly
 
are
 
you trying to tell me,

Mr. Tacy?” Cole asked, his eyes squinting

in apprehension.

“If you will just open the folder.” The man nodded at the thick package now in front of Cole.

Cole looked down at the oversized

envelope.  His mouth went dry.  Alaric’s name jumped at him from the unopened packet. He ran his forefinger and thumb across the corners of his mouth before he

reached out to pick it up.  Carefully, he opened the flap and pulled out a familiar looking   folded   leather   binder   and carefully relieved its contents.

This document was nearly identical to the property deed and will he had just received from his father.

“Do you know what this is?” Cole searched Jameson’s face for any hint of recognition.   He looked at Raine who

shrugged.

Cole’s eyes jumped to the bottom of the page where the names were listed— Friedrich Kurtis Johansson, Alaric Kurtis Johansson,   and   Cole   Alexander Redbourne. Cole was grateful he was sitting down because he was sure he would have fallen over.

This folder included a will and map of the property lines as well as the claim title for a silver mine.

“I don’t want it.” Cole tossed the parchment down onto the table, stood up, and started to pace the small parlor area.  He felt like a cougar trapped in a hole.

“It wasn’t your fault, son,” his father spoke quietly.

“Will everyone stop saying that?” It came out louder than he had anticipated.

After seeing the frightened look on Mr. Tacy’s face, he resumed his pacing. “Youdon’t understand.  It
 
was
 
my fault,” he saida in a lower tone, glancing at his brother.  “If I had just gotten to him sooner, hewould still be alive.”

“Please.  Is there a problem?”

“Yes. Get someone else to take it.” Cole pounded his fist on the deed, shakingthe table and startling Mr. Tacy intohiccups. A small torn piece of paperfluttered into the air from the force.

“What’s this?” Raine asked as hepicked up the note.

“I don’t deserve to live on that land, letalone own it.  It’s Alaric’s. It should be

his.”

Cole couldn’t think straight.  His head

started spinning and he could only think

about getting out of the house and into the fresh air.   Hot waves consumed him.

Sweat dampened the hair at the back of hisneck. He couldn’t breathe.

He shoved past everyone and onceoutside the door, he stood gasping for theair that taunted his lungs with fulfillment. He bent over, holding himself up with hishands on his knees. The pungent aroma offresh cut grass greeted him in the open airand he breathed deeply, each breath alittle easier than the one before. He prayedto rid himself of the powerful emotionsriding dangerously close to the surface.

“Let someone else do it,” he muttered tohimself.  The harsh clod of feet on the

front porch steps triggered him upright.  He didn’t want to talk about it anymore and with one determined step started

toward the corral.

“Hang on there, little brother.” Raine was right behind him, like always.

“What do you want, Raine?” Cole’s voice was hard as steel. He yanked at the saddle resting on his tack horse.  It lifted mere inches from the wooden form, the back end not budging from its secured structure.  Cole ground his teeth together.  One of the straps was still attached to the timber underbelly. He pulled the buckle back and the pin sliced at his fore knuckle. A forceful groan of frustration sounded deep in his throat and he quickly drew his finger into his mouth, sucking at the blood that appeared there.

“Cole,” Raine started again.

Cole grabbed at the saddle once again, this time it came off freely.  He pushed

past Raine toward the remuda for a fresh

mount.

“I don’t believe Alaric’s death was an

accident.” Raine’s words all came out in a

rush.

Cole stopped, still as stone.  Slowly, hepivoted on one foot until he stood squareto Raine. His fists twitched and his griptightened on his rigid leather tack. “Whatdid you say?” Cole asked, sure he’dmisheard.

“I don’t believe Alaric’s death was an accident,”   Raine   repeated   slowly, emphasizing each word.

The pounding in Cole’s head sped in wild rhythm. He threw his saddle to the ground and jumped over it toward Raine.  His fingers curled in a death grip around the loose material at the front of Raine’s

shirt and he hurled his brother up against the side of the tack shed. One moment his

fist was cocked, ready to strike, and the next he found himself with his hands

behind   his   back,  his   arms   locked awkwardly in Raine’s upward hold.

How many times had his brother William told him he was careless when he was angry?  Control the emotion, control the fight.  Cole tugged his arms, attempting to loosen Raine’s grasp on him, but to no avail.

“You weren’t the only one who lost

someone  when Alaric  died.”  Raine

wrenched Cole’s arms so tight his shoulder blades nearly touched.  “He was like a brother to all of us.”

Cole backed hard into his unsuspecting brother, bending at his waist.  He heaved

his brother over his back and head.  Raine landed flat on his back. Now, William would have been proud of that.

Cole’s success was short lived when Raine grabbed his ankles and tugged, pulling him onto the ground next to him.  Cole had the wind knocked out of him.

Without time to react, Raine rolled Coleover onto his belly, straddled him, andheld his hands together just below his beltand against his back. His face rubbed intothe dirt, but he was just too tired to fight

anymore.

“Look at this.”  Raine released his hold

on Cole and rolled sideways to sit next to Cole.  Forearms resting on his knees he held the small ripped parchment up for Cole to see.

Cole turned his head and pulled himself

into a seated position, brushing the dust

from the front of his shirt.

“Tacy said Alaric was in a hurry when he wrote this, but left strict instructions to have it delivered to you if anything happened to him.”

The handwriting was familiar. Alaric’s.

Be careful, my friend.  They willstop at nothing to get what theywant.  My granddad is dead becausehe wouldn’t give in and now I feelthem watching me. You are the onlyone I trust to keep it safe.  To keepher safe.

Cole read the words aloud, but it tooksome time before their meaning sunk in.  His heart thumped against his chest in

heavy, solid beats.

“I guess we’re staying in Silver Falls?” Raine’s   voice   blended   into   the background of Cole’s racing thoughts.

With his arm resting on his knee, he reread the note, unable to peel his eyes away from the realization of what it meant.

Alaric’s death wasn’t an accident.
 
Not

an accident.

Cole fell backward onto his back, his knees still bent, and he stared intently at the cloud filled sky.  His wrist dropped at his side, note still in hand. He closed his

eyes.

Not an accident.
 
He repeated again in his mind. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know when Raine laid down next to

him. They sat in silence for a while. Cole

raised the note and opened his eyes to look it over again. He sat up straight when he noticed something written on the backside of the paper. A single word.

“McCallister,” he read aloud. “I guess it’s a good thing I’ll be taking that job after all.”

Chapter Four