Inherit A Dream (Sons Of A Gun Book 4)

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Inherit A Dream (Sons Of A Gun Book 4) Page 5

by Brenda Sinclair


  As the rider drew closer still, she glanced down and noticed Moe’s tail slowly wagging. Like most dogs, Moe proved himself a remarkable judge of a man’s character. How could the animal already sense the fellow wasn’t a threat to them at this distance?

  Violet inhaled deeply, catching herself holding her breath as the man approached. “Hello, may I ask why you’re here?” she called, attempting to stop her knees shaking in her woolen trousers. She hated that her fear would show much easier than had she been dressed in skirts.

  “Looking for work,” came the immediate reply.

  He hadn’t a deep voice, perhaps the fellow was younger than she’d assumed. He wore a faded jacket several sizes larger than necessary, and his other clothing appeared nothing more than rags. Had the fellow seen hard times and lost a considerable amount of weight? The ends of his boots were upturned and she’d swear a bit of woolen sock poked out from a hole in one of them.

  “Who sent you here?” she demanded. The sooner she could send him on his way the better.

  “Stopped at the Milestone General Store. The shop owner sent me.”

  Violet considered it best to test the truth of the statement. Alone on the ranch, she couldn’t be too careful. “So, Mr. Landers sent you?” Everyone in the area knew Mr. Landers passed away several years ago.

  The rider shook his head. “No. The fellow said his name was Ray something. Collins? No, Cochrane. Ray Cochrane sent me.”

  Violet nodded. The fellow had told the truth.

  “The shopkeeper told me you were probably in need of help with your ranch.” The rider appeared to waver in the saddle.

  Violet gasped. “Are you a drunkard?”

  The rider straightened and muttered, “Anything but.”

  Violet didn’t believe him. “Well, Ray was mistaken. I don’t require any ranch hands. I’m sorry you’ve made the trip for nothing.”

  “Mr. Cochrane mentioned you were out here on your ranch alone.”

  Violet’s hands fisted at her sides. She’d strangle Ray Cochrane next time she saw him. Why would he advertise such a thing? “Don’t know that who is or isn’t on this ranch is any of your concern. I’ll kindly ask you to leave.” She heard the tremble in her own voice, knew that she hadn’t managed to disguise her fear.

  “I certainly won’t be of any harm to you,” the fellow said, as if reading her thoughts.

  He wavered in the saddle again and dismounted to keep himself from toppling off.

  “You are drunk,” she blurted. “Get off my ranch.”

  “Not drunk and I’ll leave if you insist. But I may need to rest… for just a short time…” The rider left the idea hanging in the air as he staggered, fell against his horse, and then collapsed in a heap on the ground.

  Violet gasped and took a step back.

  Moe rushed to the rider’s side and in his enthusiasm to check on the man, knocked his hat off.

  Violet thought she was seeing things as a mane of long blonde hair cascaded around the rider’s head and fell in waves covering the person’s face.

  “Oh my goodness, Moe… it’s a girl!” she exclaimed.

  * * *

  Faith Harding moaned as she regained consciousness and slowly opened her eyes. A pair of beautiful brown eyes set above a gray muzzle stared back at her. With his head on his paws, the black and white dog was lying near her prone body, tail wagging ever so slightly.

  She recalled almost falling off her horse before hurriedly dismounting and then collapsing on the ground. She must have passed out from exhaustion, having ridden for two days straight, stopping to sleep a few hours at night and allowing her horse to graze and drink water. Hopefully, her father wouldn’t find her.

  “Have you been watching over me?” Her voice came out in a croak. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she’d attempted to talk.

  The dog whined and lifted his head.

  She raised herself up on her elbows and gazed about, wondering for a moment where she was. Suddenly, she remembered. The Triple C Ranch. The shopkeeper in Milestone had sent her out here to inquire about a job. The ranch owner hadn’t been too receptive to her arrival, appearing completely against the idea. To Faith’s recollection, the young woman hadn’t appeared much older than herself and probably feared for her safety with a stranger riding onto the ranch out of the blue.

  Faith raised a hand to her head, realizing her hat had fallen off revealing her mane of normally unruly hair. The ranch owner would know she was female, and perhaps she’d be less fearful and more inclined to give her a job. Attempting to stand, she inhaled sharply as a pain shot through her shoulder where she must have landed hard as she collapsed. She hadn’t any idea how long she’d been out cold, but her head had cleared and she felt a bit stronger and more likely able to navigate on her feet. Finally, she clambered to a standing position and smiled at the dog who stood at her side.

  “You’re awake.”

  Faith turned in the direction of the speaker, feeling her face redden. She couldn’t imagine the picture she would have made, spread-eagled and unconscious in a heap on the ground. “It appears so,” she muttered.

  “I didn’t reckon I could carry you into the house. So I’d hoped you’d come to before darkness set in.”

  “Appears, I have.”

  “I put your gelding in the barn. He nearly drank the water trough dry first,” the woman added, smiling. “I gave him some hay and feed also.”

  “Thank you so much. I’m ashamed to say Pauper’s needs have been neglected while we traveled,” she admitted, sticking out her hand. “By the way, I’m Faith Harding.”

  “Violet Campbell.” The rancher shook hands with her visitor. “That’s an unusual name for a horse.”

  Faith nodded. “Father didn’t approve of me buying him. Told me that fool animal will make a pauper out of me. Never mind, I was the one who’d promised to pay for his feed and care. And I did. Chose the name in a moment of defiance.”

  “What brings you here?”

  “After the past winter, our family, which consists of Pa and me, lost all our stock. We were financially ruined.” Faith shook her head. “When Pa learned the bank would take our ranch, he turned to drink. When drunk, he became mean toward everyone, especially me.”

  “Did he harm you?” Violet blurted.

  Faith nodded slowly, without elaborating. Her body was covered in bruises. “After one of Pa’s particularly frightening fits of temper, my ribs hurt like the dickens for a week until moving became tolerable. When I recently felt able to ride for an extended length of time, I snuck out of the house in the middle of the night and rode like the devil was on my heels.” Hopefully, she’d escaped her father’s fists. She prayed he didn’t drag himself away from the bottle long enough to come looking for her.

  “Well, you’re safe here. And I’ve reconsidered your request for work. I’d be pleased to hire you to help on the ranch. But I can only pay you the meagerest of wages until I sell my cattle in the fall. If you’ve retained employment with me until that time, there will be a bonus in it for you.”

  Faith would have hugged the young woman had she not stopped herself in time, considering such a gesture purely inappropriate. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this job means to me.”

  “I imagine it means a roof over your head and three meals a day. But most importantly, you’ll be provided a safe place to hang your hat.” The woman stood staring into Faith’s eyes.

  “You couldn’t be more right. My father…”

  Her new employer must have picked up on her hesitation. “No need for further explanation. We can talk about families and the like when it suits us later.”

  “That’s right. You’re all alone here,” Faith said. “I suppose there’s a story there as well.”

  “And I’ll share it with you, in time.” Violet waved her toward the house. “Come inside and have a bite to eat. I’m certain you could use a bath and a change of clothes. We’re about the same size. I’ll fi
nd something for you to wear.”

  “Thank you. I know cattle ranching and I’m not afraid of hard work.” Faith walked alongside Violet. “This will work out, for both of us.”

  “I believe you’re right.” Violet opened the door for her. “Once we’ve got you settled in, I’ll show you the plans I’ve made for the ranch. I’d value your opinion, if you’re willing to offer one.”

  “Anything I’m able to help with, all you need do is ask.” Faith removed her father’s old jacket and looked down at the shabby clothes she’d grabbed before escaping her past. “Would you mind if we burned all this? I cannot spend another minute in these reminders of what I’ve left behind. Deduct from my wages the cost of the clothes you offered me.”

  Violet smiled. “Consider it a bonus for signing on to work at the Triple C.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I doubt most ranchers give out a dress to their new hires as part of the bargain,” Violet chuckled. “But in your case, I’m sure I can manage it. And some work clothes and a few newly sewn unmentionables I’ve never worn as well.”

  Faith’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t care. She’d never been blessed with a sister, and she wondered if this was what it felt like having one. “Thank you again, Violet. I haven’t owned anything decent to wear for as long as I can recall. Certainly, not since Mother passed a few years ago. She sewed all our clothes. Father never believed in spending money on anything as frivolous as store-bought dresses. I wore a lot of Mother’s old things, taking in a seam here and there so they wouldn’t fall off me.”

  Make yourself something to wear if you need it so bad.

  Her father’s anger-filled words rang in her thoughts. Of course, he wouldn’t purchase material for her to sew either.

  “Being a widower turned my remaining parent into a man I didn’t recognize. Then losing the ranch on top of Mother’s death, he became a complete stranger. In time, I learned to fear him. Now, I hate him as well.” Faith’s eyes filled with tears. Should she have voiced her true feelings? Such a crass statement about a parent might show her in a poor light. Violet might even change her mind about employing her. “That sounded rather harsh, didn’t it?”

  “Harsh maybe. Honest definitely.” Violet met her eyes. She liked the girl already and due to her candor, she knew Faith was someone she could trust. “Don’t ever hold back with me. I need to know exactly what you’re thinking if we’re going to live and work together.”

  “Live?” Faith blurted. “I’ll stay in the barn with—”

  “Absolutely not. There are four bedrooms in this house. You’ll be staying here with me.” Violet smiled. “I’ve moved into my parents’ bedroom and my brother’s room is at the end of the hallway. You’re welcome to my old room.”

  “It makes sense, I suppose.”

  “Definitely. If we encounter trouble in the middle of the night, we’ll be better able to present a strong resistance if we’re under the same roof.” Violet tipped her head. “I assume you can shoot a gun.”

  “Take the eye out of a prairie dog at fifty paces,” Faith replied, smiling. All right, so she’d exaggerated a bit. But she knew her way around a firearm.

  “I suppose that will do.” Violet chuckled and shook her head. “Come on, we’ve got work to do. And I’m glad you’re here to help.”

  Chapter 8

  April

  Violet’s gaze surveyed the barnyard and area. She couldn’t believe the amount of work she and Faith had accomplished the past two days. Corral rails had been reattached where necessary and except for two cows, the stock had all been returned to pasture. In another couple days, the last two would be set free to join the herd also. Then only the calves would be left in the barn with their mothers.

  Moe hadn’t known which of the two of them to follow around. While Faith insisted on digging up the garden in preparation of planting in another week or two, Violet had cleared the flowerbeds and trimmed a couple of tree branches that hung too low. She prepared a list of things required for the garden, including packets of vegetable seeds she could buy at the general store. Garden produce was a necessity for surviving on a ranch. Considering the timeliness of the purchase, she once again thanked Harold Watson for his change of mind regarding her loan. Purchasing garden seeds in August would be a colossal waste. They required them now.

  Tomorrow was Saturday and she and Faith planned to head to town to collect the goods on her list and drop by a couple shops to visit with Violet’s friends, one of which was Amanda Manning. Simon hadn’t been over to check on her the entire week. She was relieved he’d accepted her independence, as well as a tad miffed he hadn’t considered it necessary to ensure she was all right. Had word gotten out that she’d hired someone to work with her on the Triple C? Perhaps that was the reason for his absence in her life. It annoyed her no end that she actually missed seeing him.

  “Enough for today,” she called to her ranch hand. Violet was very pleased with Faith’s work. And she considered her ranch hand a new friend as well.

  Faith put the tools away in the shed and wandered up to the house where Violet sat on the porch peeling potatoes for their supper. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes, please. Go on in and brew a pot of coffee. I’ll be in with these in a couple minutes.” Violet started on the last one in the pile.

  Faith placed her hands on her lower back and stretched. “My goodness, doing a day’s work again feels wonderful. You’re so lucky some of your stock survived last winter.”

  “Last fall, our herd totaled over seven hundred head. Now there are one hundred and five left, including the new calves.” Violet recalled how horrified she’d been the day she calculated the number of deaths last winter. Seeing those animals lying on the ground frozen to death, some dead standing in a bank of crusted snow, was an image she’d never get out of her head. “We need to keep a count on them if I’m to realize sufficient profits to settle my debts with the bank. I can’t afford to lose even one animal to coyotes or rustlers.”

  “Rustlers?” Faith blurted. “In the condition these animals are in? Who would bother?”

  “Plenty of unscrupulous men out there. With so many ranch hands out of work due to the decreasing numbers of stock on most ranches, A. J. McLennon mentioned he fears some will turn to less savory means of supporting themselves.” Violet tossed the last potato into the pot. “Besides, if we can fatten the herd for sale, what’s stopping someone else from doing the same? Whether they own them or we do?”

  “You’re right. Is your herd branded?”

  “For the most part. We managed live births of a few calves this spring, despite the condition of their mothers, so they’ll require branding.”

  Faith’s hand flew to her mouth. “Goodness, Violet. Have you ever branded a calf yourself? And done… the other part?”

  Violet shook her head. “I’ve helped but that’s all. I’m hoping when my neighbors brand their stock they’ll offer to let me help them, and then they’ll brand my calves and castrate the male ones in return.”

  “Neighbors helping neighbors. It’s the same everywhere. We did that when my father owned his ranch, before the bank took it.”

  Violet swallowed hard. “I almost lost ours. I know the feeling of hopelessness and devastation your father must have experienced. But that’s no reason for cruelty toward his daughter.”

  “Goodness, I’m supposed to be making coffee.” Faith smiled. “I’d better get my behind into the house, or I’ll find myself out of a job.”

  “Only if your coffee equals the unpalatable mud Sam Perkins brews at the cooperage in Milestone.” Violet shivered recalling the day Sam offered her a cup. She’d almost died after the first mouthful and accidently spilled the rest of it into a nearby bucket when he wasn’t looking.

  Faith held the door for her while she carried the pot of potatoes into the house.

  “Thank you.” She placed the cookpot to boil on the front burner and added a log to the woodstove.


  Faith dumped the dregs out the back door before pouring fresh water into the coffee pot from the drinking water pail. “I’ll go out to the well and refill this.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  Faith placed the coffee pot on the back burner, grabbed the pail, and walked across the kitchen floor. She paused, holding the back door open. “Violet, I’m seventeen. How old are you?”

  “Turned twenty-one in February.”

  Faith’s mouth dropped open. “Twenty-one! Why aren’t you married?”

  Chapter 9

  Simon hadn’t been keeping his mind on his work for days now. Jackson had scolded him a couple times for mindlessly doing dang fool things where any greenhorn would know better. The reason for his lack of attention could be summed up in a single word.

  Violet.

  “Go check on her.”

  Simon’s head whipped up when he heard his father’s voice, and he almost choked on his mouthful of apple pie.

  “Check on who?” he muttered, knowing he’d been caught sitting at the supper table, daydreaming about his favorite subject. Again.

  “You know perfectly well the reason you were distracted today.”

  “Today? He’s been distracted three ways from Sunday all week long,” Jackson, the ranch manager and his oldest brother, complained.

  “Got it bad,” Mrs. Sheridan, the Double M housekeeper, chimed in. “I’ll send over an apple pie. Give you a reason to come calling.”

  “I don’t need a reason…” He closed his mouth to keep from digging himself any farther into a hole.

  “Violet has offered you an open invitation, has she?” AJ teased. “If Simon sets his mind to proposin’ to her, could be we’ll be plannin’ a weddin’ any day now.”

  Simon scoffed. “Why don’t all of you settle on a day for branding, and keep your noses out of my business?”

 

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