Inherit A Dream (Sons Of A Gun Book 4)

by Brenda Sinclair

  “Thank you for the help, but it’s not necessary,” she said, smiling brightly and sounding much more cheerful than her aching body suggested.

  “No trouble at all.” Simon climbed into his saddle.

  Was he hurting as much as she was? He worked long hours on the Double M as she did on her own ranch. Neither of them rode fourteen hours a day, though. Perhaps he’d been suffering as much as her. Regardless, she knew he had her back out here. He’d never allow any harm to come to her.

  “Ready to go, sis?” Roland called from the mare he’d owned since he turned eighteen.

  “Lead the way,” she said, waving him ahead. Violet appreciated him riding his mare again, fearing she hadn’t exercised the horse sufficiently being so busy on the ranch.

  Simon rode up beside her and so their day began.

  Chapter 25

  Violet heaved a sigh and dismounted. They’d been riding among towering trees which seemed tall enough to touch the clouds. Their party frequently stopped throughout each day to check for signs of cattle moving through. All she’d heard was the rustle of trees in the afternoon breeze, and the call of a few birds she couldn’t identify. The birds had quieted recently. She wouldn’t doubt a deer or perhaps even a bear was watching them from their hiding places as they passed by. She preferred to consider the possibility animals were watching their progress and not the rustlers.

  Who were these scoundrels anyway? Someone from one of the local ranches? Drifters passing through the area in search of making some quick money? Perhaps fellows who made their ill-gotten living on other folks’ hard work and sweat? She really didn’t care. She wanted her cattle found.

  Violet gazed across the opening, noticing the sun hovered closer to the horizon this time of day and managed to penetrate the trees, the rays casting a pattern of shadows on the forest floor. She hadn’t been truly warm in days, either early morning mist chilling her to the bone or riding for hours on end through the forest surrounded by azure haze and her own fear. She’d give an eyetooth to gaze upward and see billowing clouds in a clear blue sky again.

  Simon stood beside their horses, rotating his shoulders and stretching his back. “I’ve got a weird feeling. Are you certain your pistol is loaded?” he muttered.

  Before she could remove her firearm from the holster to check it, Violet heard a gunshot. A second later, Simon tugged her down to the ground and covered her body with his. She landed hard, her fall slightly cushioned by the bed of pine needles and twigs. She lay stunned by what happened. Simon’s body covered the length of her, crushing the air from her lungs. At least, she couldn’t deny the warmth he provided.

  “Stay down,” he ordered.

  “Who is shooting?” she gasped in a whisper, having difficulty breathing with his weight pressing on her chest.

  Simon shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe someone rousted the rustlers out of hiding.”

  “Really?” Violet struggled to poke her head up as more gunfire followed.

  “Stay down,” he repeated the order, covering her head with his hand.

  “Maybe they found the cattle,” she whispered in his ear unable to keep her excitement at bay. She closed her eyes and sighed, enjoying the weight of her tall, handsome man lying on her. The sensation was rather pleasant, if she could only breathe. The scent of sweat, horse and leather met her nose.

  “Once the shooting stops, we’ll go investigate.” Simon scrambled off of her prone body and drew his pistol. “Stay here.”

  “I will not!” She clambered to her feet and drew her own pistol. “What direction did the shots come from?”

  “You are not walking into the middle of this.”

  “I’m not staying here alone.” She stood her ground.

  “Yes, you are.” Simon moved off through the forest, using the larger trees for cover. She waited a few seconds and attempted to follow, but in no time at all, she lost track of him.

  She should have stayed put like he’d told her. She inhaled the scent of pine and moss while she tentatively stepped over a mass of exposed tree roots, praying she wouldn’t trip or turn an ankle. The wet vegetation appeared to absorb the sound of her footfalls and she avoided stepping on twigs, hoping the rustlers wouldn’t discover her whereabouts. In an attempt to see something, anything, she peeked around the large tree in front of her, touching the moss-covered trunk. She brushed off the spongy debris and then wiped her hand on her denims, silently cursing her carelessness. All she saw was trees and more trees.

  Something touched her arm and she uttered a squeak, her heartbeat racing.

  “Shh, it’s me,” a familiar male voice whispered near her ear.

  “Roland Campbell, you nearly scared me to death.” She almost swatted his arm but spotted the blood stain on his shirt. “You’re bleeding!” She holstered her gun.

  “The bullet from one of the first shots nicked my arm. It doesn’t hurt,” he explained.

  “You could have been killed!” Her breath came so quickly she couldn’t breathe. She could have lost her brother. He shouldn’t have come with them.

  “Violet, I’m all right. I’ll get Doc Bennett to look at it when we get back to Milestone.” Roland guided her forward. “Stay behind the trees until the men settle this.”

  “I haven’t heard more shots for a while now.”

  A loud crashing sound ahead startled her. Someone or something was heading straight for them. Before she could blink, several head of cattle charged through the forest and rushed by. Herefords. Thank goodness. No fear of being gored by a longhorn. She caught a glimpse of the brand.

  “Those were our cattle,” she whispered, urgently.

  “They were?”

  “I’m sure of it. I’d recognize the Triple C brand anywhere.”

  “Then we’ll round them up once the shooting is done.”

  “At least, I know some of my herd will be recovered.” She wove her way between the trees, following Roland. She hadn’t seen Simon since he raced off as soon as the shooting started, and she prayed he hadn’t been hurt.

  As they stepped across a narrow creek, Violet carefully planted each foot, hoping she wouldn’t have a mishap on the slippery rocks. She no sooner completed the thought than a flurry of gunfire erupted. Roland grabbed her hand and pulled her through the creek and down to the forest floor with him, crouching behind a fallen tree trunk. They both unholstered their pistols again.

  “Where did the shots come from?” Violet whispered, the smell of rotting vegetation filling her nose which was inches from the ground.

  “Up ahead. Be prepared in case someone comes this way.” Roland hunkered down low with Violet at his side.

  Together, they listened intently for any sound of someone approaching them. Violet caught a glimpse of more cattle standing together a ways off to the left, and she touched her brother’s arm, pointing. He nodded and pointed ahead. They stood and moved forward soundlessly toward another volley of gunfire.

  A few minutes later, Violet peeked out from behind a trio of trees growing closely together and providing good cover for both of them. She spotted Simon, Jackson and several ranchers up ahead, standing over something on the ground. Had they discovered the rustlers’ camp? Had the rustlers been captured?

  She glanced at Roland and he stepped from behind their hiding place. “Don’t shoot. It’s Roland and Violet,” he called.

  Several men turned and waved them forward in acknowledgement.

  “It’s all right. You can come out now,” Simon called.

  Violet accompanied her brother into the clearing, and Simon rushed to her side. “I told you to stay put.”

  “I came upon her and she accompanied me,” Roland explained. “You found the rustlers.”

  Simon nodded. “There were at least eight. Five are dead. This one is wounded and bleeding. I doubt he’ll make it to a doctor. A couple ranchers and Deputy Snow are pursuing the rest of them.”

  “Who are they?” Roland met Simon’s eyes.

  “S
herman Black recognized one of them. Brother of a fellow he employed a few months ago. The man was killed while working for him. Got drunk as a skunk at the Copper Nugget then fell off his horse and broke his neck riding home from Milestone. I guess the brother blamed Sherman for it. Decided to seek revenge on him and his neighbors.”

  “Where are the cattle?” Violet blurted. “We saw some Triple C steers a while ago. And a few others are back there a ways.”

  “They’re hidden all through the forest here. It’ll take some time but we’ll keep looking until we find all of them.” Simon pointed to Roland’s arm. “That serious?”

  “Just a flesh wound. Doesn’t hurt and it only bled for a little while.”

  Simon slapped his back. “You were lucky.”

  “Let’s start rounding up these cattle. Sheriff Robertson and Daniel can handle his wounded fellow and arrange to haul the dead out of here,” Jackson suggested. “Don’t worry about brands, get these cattle back to Milestone. We’ll sort later.”

  “It’s closer to Butte from here. Could we take mine for shipment now?” Violet inquired.

  “That’s actually a good idea,” Jackson concurred. “We can see what current prices are and decide whether to ship now or wait.”

  The McLennons and the other ranchers spent the better part of a week searching the forest for their missing cattle and bringing them out to nearby valleys. In all, a mere dozen or so were never accounted for. Fortunately, Violet recovered all of her missing cattle and with Roland’s and Simon’s help, her animals and some of the Double M steers were driven to Butte for sale. Jackson and the Double M cowhands drove their remaining cattle back to the ranch.

  Mostly steers were sold, and Violet hated parting with some of the cows, but she needed sufficient funds to clear her debts with the bank. She would retain as many cows and heifers as possible to build the herd next spring.

  Almost two weeks after leaving, Violet rode onto the Triple C Ranch. Moe looked wonderful when he rushed out to greet her, excitedly barking and turning in circles. He’d completely recovered from his run-in with the coyote. “Hi, Moe. What a good dog.” She tied her horse to the hitching rail and then bent down to pat his head. She’d swear he was smiling. Bone-weary and feeling grubby with trail dust and sweat, she stumbled up the back stairs and opened the door.

  “I’m back,” she called. The house seemed exceptionally quiet considering the kitchen clock indicated the noon hour was approaching. Wouldn’t Faith have stopped work for lunch?

  Violet stripped down to her unmentionables and hauled water from the woodstove to the washstand. There wasn’t time for a bath, but she’d scrub the worst of the dirt off for now. Roland had returned to town and Simon accompanied the McLennons to the Double M. She needed to check on the situation here at home before worrying about roundup.

  With no warning, the back door flew open. Violet screamed, scrambling to cover herself with the towel she’d laid out to dry herself.

  “Violet!” Faith shouted. “You’re back. And safe. And I’m so relieved to see you.”

  Seeing it was her friend, she dropped the towel and hugged her tightly. “Goodness, it’s so good to be home.”

  “I nearly died from worrying,” Faith admitted. “The days dragged on and I hadn’t heard anything. AJ rode over here three days ago to check on me. Told me no news was all right. If something had gone wrong we would have heard.”

  “You won’t believe where we found the cattle.” Violet explained everything that had happened the past twelve days while she scrubbed the dust off and then donned the clean work clothes Faith fetched for her. If Violet had crawled upstairs, she would have collapsed into bed and been asleep in a minute.

  “Everything is good here,” Faith called. “The old mare your ma owned came up lame, but I figured out she had hoof problems and tended to her. She’s all right now.”

  Violet tucked the clean shirt into her denims. “That’s good. We arranged an impromptu cattle drive and a couple of the ranchers, myself included, drove the cattle to Butte to be shipped to the stockyards in Chicago. The rustlers saved me the time of rounding up most of my herd.” She laughed, relieved that worry was over.

  “Thankfully, you found those steers and heifers and cows. You might actually finish what you set out to do yet.”

  “I plan on it. Now we need to finish getting ready for roundup. I owe it to my neighbors to help them and Roland says he’s still coming along also. I might keep the few remaining cattle to winter over since I’ve shipped the eighty-seven head already.”

  “It depends on the price you got I suppose. Whether you need to sell more.”

  “I should do all right.”

  “We’ll have our noon meal before I show you what I’ve accomplished in your absence,” Faith hinted.

  “Accomplished? I’m delighted the house and barn are still standing.” Violet chuckled. “What have you been up to?”

  “A bit of cleaning. A bit of organizing.” Faith clasped her hands together. “You won’t recognize the tack room. And AJ helped me build some shelves. The barn looks great. And a stray cat arrived the day after you left. She’s a pretty gray color and I named her Misty. She’s cleared out all the mice. Haven’t seen one in days now. Either in the barn or the house.”

  “The house? You let her in the house?”

  “Moe adores her. They get along great. She snuggles up with him at night and they share the back room.”

  Violet shook her head. “I must meet this cat. Moe usually doesn’t like them. As long as she doesn’t have a bunch of kittens.”

  “About that…” Faith peeked over at her. “There may be the possibility she’s carrying a belly full already.”

  “Faith Harding.”

  “I couldn’t help myself. Father never allowed cats or dogs in the house when I was growing up. Misty is my first real pet and she’s adorable.” Faith peeked over at her boss, mouthing the word please.

  Violet threw up her hands. “All right. Misty stays. Future kittens and all.”

  “Ranchers will take them if they’re good mousers.”

  “Maybe. Unless their cats are having kittens also. Faith, you’re responsible for finding those felines a home.”

  “Let’s wait and see if she has kittens first. Maybe she’s just… plump.” Faith winked at her.

  “Plump my foot. Forget food. I want to see my ranch.” Violet pulled on her boots and headed out the back door, intent on discovering for herself what changes Faith had made. She missed the horses and feeding her chickens.

  “Tomorrow, we’re going into Milestone to visit with my brother. A bullet grazed his arm when we found the rustlers. I need to ensure Doc Bennett looked at it.” Violet glanced at Faith and noticed her friend’s face had paled. “Don’t worry. He’s fine. But he’ll be so busy doctoring his animals until roundup, he might neglect his own well-being.”

  Faith nodded. “All right. I need a few supplies from the store anyway. I’m out of flour and I’ll bake a cake to take to the Double M if they host a farewell get-together for Daniel and Iris. I reckon they’ll be heading home to Chicago one of these days.”

  “Not until after roundup. Despite his dislike for ranching, Daniel will probably help his brothers with that annual chore.” Violet strode across the yard. She looked forward to roundup and helping her neighbors who’d come to her rescue when her cattle were stolen. She could have been ruined had they not found her herd. Surely, all of her bad luck had been expended now, and blue skies remained ahead.

  Chapter 26

  September

  Simon rode alongside Violet searching for strays on day four of the roundup. The late summer weather seemed particularly warm for this time of year. He’d been keeping his eyes on the beautiful woman he loved more than on the bushes where his peepers should be. Despite his inattentiveness, they’d rousted out several head, and a couple of his ranch hands and Roland were driving the found strays toward the main herd. He glanced at Violet and chuckled, hoping for
a few moments alone with her.

  “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he called to her.

  She turned in her saddle and smiled at him. “What’s not to love?”

  “You’ve done a wonderful job.” Simon touched the brim of his Stetson in a salute to her determination and competence. He’d never known a girl like her. She surprised him every day. “Your pa would be darn pleased.”

  “Thank you.” She beamed. “I think we’ve got them all. We should catch up to Roland and your men.”

  They kneed their horses and raced for a short distance, catching up quickly.

  Simon gazed across the valley, admiring the herd surrounding him. Despite the poor condition of the cattle last spring, their health had improved beyond his expectations. The shorthorns and Herefords moseyed along in no particular rush, which suited Simon. The last thing he needed was something frightening the herd and causing the cattle to stampede. Slow and steady would do fine.

  Simon caught a glimpse of Roland up ahead, riding his old mare. For a veterinarian, his friend still worked well as a cowhand. He chuckled at his own joke. But why wouldn’t he? Roland had grown up on a cattle ranch, same as Simon himself. They’d been best friends since grade school when they’d gotten into trouble together for bringing a little gopher snake into the school. They’d let it loose in the classroom and it frightened the girls and the teacher near to death. It had taken a dickens of a time catching the thing again, but they managed to return the school to normal. Their respective pas had warmed their britches over it, and they’d been friends ever since.

  “How are you doing?” Simon called.

  Roland waved. “Great. I do enjoy roundup every year.”

  Simon laughed, catching the obvious sarcasm. Raising cattle wasn’t for Roland. Same as his brother, Daniel, had hated ranching, his friend held a similar dislike for the work. But the man couldn’t be a better vet. And the ranching community around Milestone appreciated having him near at hand. Besides, Roland adored his sister, being his reason to volunteer to help out.