Isabella: Book Four: The Cattleman's Daughters

by Danni Roan

  Isabella walked into her father's room, sorrow weighing down her usually straight shoulders.

  "Nona sent you some soup Pa," she said, her voice soft.

  Joshua James smiled his crooked smile at his little girl, and reached his hand out to her. In a flash she was curled up next to him, hot tears spilling from her eyes.

  "I don't know what to do Pa," she groaned. “I never thought anyone could think doing a good job was wrong." She sniffed and sat up a little as he patted her back like he had done when she was a child. "Everything was so wonderful, my heart was soaring and now..." She dissolved into tears again.

  "I didn't do anything wrong, but I don't know how to fix it. I thought after I rescued him things would be alright." She hiccupped softly and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve.

  Although Josh's speech was still somewhat slurred, he could now clearly communicate and as he snuggled his daughter close to him, he sighed. "Darling', that man has to learn, I'm just sorry you have to go through it with him. His pride is hurt, and it's easier to stay mad at you than to deal with some silly notions he has in his head ‘bout how men and woman are supposed to act."

  "That doesn't make sense," Isabella said, clearly bewildered.

  "Sometimes it seems like most of what people think and believe don't make any sense. They have to learn for themselves what’s right for them, but giving up what you thought you knew is hard."

  He squeezed her tight with his one good arm. "You just don't give up. If you love him, you just keep being yourself until you can make him understand."

  Isabella dried her eyes and climbed to her feet. "Thank you, Pa," she said, still dabbing her eyes. "I'll do my best."

  Chapter 11

  Lunch on the Broken J was a quiet meal as a sweltering summer sun beat down on the range. Joshua didn’t feel up to coming to the table, as he'd been out in the cart checking things around the ranch and learning how to maneuver the pony with just one hand.

  Taylor and Reg came in from the saw mill site downstream from the ranch and joined the twins, Katie, and Nona for a lunch of soup and bread. The absence of the usual banter and chatter was especially missed as the cold wall between Taylor and Isabella seemed to suppress everything.

  Nona and Katie tried to keep things light by playing and talking to Mary, but Reg and Lexi exchanging worried looks became more than evident. Isabella knew that her problems with Taylor were making everyone miserable, but other than smacking him over the head with Nona’s iron skillet, she had no idea how to get the man to listen to her.

  "Oh, that woman is at it again," Nona said suddenly, looking toward the large kitchen garden where Deeks' wife Ray was digging potatoes with a shovel. "At least she seems to be alright without Deeks here." The matron of the Broken J scowled, then stopped speaking as she noticed the looks of her granddaughters’ faces. "Well, I just can't understand her," she said, trying to cover up her disapproval of the woman.

  The bark of a dog and the clatter of horses’ hooves in the yard drew everyone's attention and they all rose, hurrying to the front porch, worried something had happened on the drive, sending some of the men back for help.

  Nona came to a stuttering halt, arms spread wide to keep her family behind her as the others came pouring through the door.

  Isabella blinked at the burly man who stood on the top step of the front porch, a pistol in his hand, and evil grin spreading across his bearded face. Behind him two other men climbed the stairs, taking up positions on either side of the smiling outlaw.

  "Well what do we have here?" the first man drawled. “Seems like everyone plumb up an' left on that there round-up, leavin’ all you on your own." His eyes glinted malevolently. "See boys, I told ya if you stuck with me, we'd just waltz right in here and take whatever we wanted." His filthy leer at the twins made Taylor and Reg bristle.

  "You just stay calm there now fellas, or I'll fill you full of lead and still take whatever I want," the first man spoke again, maliciously turning his pistol toward Taylor.

  One of the other men chortled and spat a stream of brown tobacco juice on the planks of the porch.

  "Now you fellas just mind yourselves," the leader waved his pistol again. “First things first. Granny," he looked at Nona, "you go on in and bring out all the gold you got stashed there, an' don't try to deny it, I seen that young black haired fella flippin' a coin too many times to think it ain't here." Nona blinked, looking to Katie who nodded slightly. “And don't you go getting no ideas about comin' back with a gun.” He pointed his pistol directly at Katie who blanched and turned as she held Mary in closer to her body. The young blonde woman’s face lost most of the color it had.

  “When we gonna get them horses, boss?” one of the other men asked.

  “Shut up, Botts,” the bigger man spat.

  Nona had just begun to turn when the crunch of dry grass from the south side of the house could be heard, and a soft steady tread caught the ear of the outlaws.

  Ray Deeks stepped around the corner of the house and turned up the ramp at the end of the porch, a shovel over her shoulder. "That you Mayhew?" she asked, a slow smile sliding across her thin lips. "I thought I heard your dulcet tones." Her face softened and her hips swung in an easy rhythm as she stepped closer.

  “Dusty? That you under all them skirts?” the man asked, his smirk widening.

  “Now aren't you a sight for sore eyes,” Ray said, smiling brightly. “I hope you came here to take me away from these do-gooders, Mayhew. I'm about fed up with their sweet innocence. I've just been waiting for the right time to get away.” Her smile had brightened and her eyes twinkled at the leader of the little gang as she approached.

  “Why Dusty, you must have a story to tell. Gibbs at the Sparrow’s Blade thinks you're dead.”

  A flicker of something that looked like anger raced across the woman's face and her bottle blue eyes sparked, but she pushed it away with a flick of her silver and gold hair as she tossed it over her shoulder.

  Watching the play between their boss and the new woman, the other two men smirked and looked at each other, over-confidence causing them to drop their guard a little.

  The sudden clunk and thump of the shovel making contact with the skull of the outlaw leader shook every person present but allowed Reg and Taylor to spring into action. Swiping the guns away from the other two men, they delivered several solid punches until the two outlaws crumpled to the porch floor to join their leader, who lay in a heap before them.

  Bianca Leoné stood on the porch in shock, trying to put everything that had just happened together, then with a lunge she threw her arms around the woman she'd only ever known as Ray. “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed. Tears of shame springing to her eyes. “You saved us all.”

  “It's all right, honey,” the other woman said, her blue eyes bright, "glad I could help.”

  "Bella, Bella," Taylor's panicked voice shook everyone as he swung toward his wife. “Are you alright?” The man ran his hands all over her as if checking for injury. "Oh Bella!" he finally sighed, pulling her into his arms. "I've never been so scared in my life."

  Quietly the others retrieved rope and tied the unconscious men to the porch rail, then slipped away giving the young couple some much needed privacy.

  "Honey, I've been such a fool." Taylor continued, oblivious to the action around him. "If something had happened to you..." He stopped, swallowing the lump in his throat.

  "I love you, Bella, can you forgive me for being such an idiot? If you want to get dressed up in men's clothes and ride every day, that's alright with me as long as I can go with you. I just don't want to lose you."

  “Taylor,” Bella's voice was muffled from where her face was crushed against him. “Taylor, let go,” she finally managed, pushing at him gently.

  Easing his grip on his wife, Taylor let her step back a pace. "I'm fine, Taylor, see I'm not hurt at all." Her eyes were filling with tears as she gazed at his worried face, "and I'm not going anywhere, especially dressed in m
en's clothes." She smiled softly, her dark eyes bright. "I just need you to understand that I'm still me. Even though I'm your wife, I'm still me." She studied his face, desperate for him to understand.

  Taylor hung his head in shame. "I'm terribly sorry, Bella," he said, his voice soft. "I guess I had some crazy notion of what it meant to be married. When I fell in love with you, I just didn't know all of you."

  Isabella started, fear constricting her throat. Was he going to tell her he didn't love her now that he knew who she truly was?

  "I realize now that the reason I fell in love with you was because of your spark, that something that makes you especially you and no one else. I just didn't recognize what it was at the time, and I'm sorry." Cupping her face in his hands he pulled her close and kissed her. "I love all of you, Isabella Ogden, from the top of your head to the very tip of your western boots, and I hope you'll let me keep loving you and learning about you forever."

  "I love you, too, Taylor," Isabella sighed. "I'm sorry I'm not what you expected." Unshed tears sparkled in her eyes.

  "You might not be what I expected, darlin'," he said with a smile, "but you're just what I need." His kiss was soft and sweet, but quickly turned to something more.

  The sound of a soft groan behind them reminded the young couple of the outlaws, now tied securely to the porch rail.

  “We should see if we can catch the herd,” Reg said to his brother as Taylor walked into the house, his arm wrapped tightly around his beautiful wife.

  “Someone should stay to keep an eye on things, in case there are any others like them out there,” Taylor replied, looking at Bella with a grin.

  "Lexi and I can go," Reg suggested as they walked into the big kitchen. "What do you say Miss Lexi? I'm assuming you can shoot if you have to."

  Lexi turned from where she'd just placed a cup of tea in front of her grandmother as she patted the older woman’s shoulder.

  "Of course," she said simply. "I'll get ready." She squeezed her sister's hand on the way up the stairs.

  "Taylor, you mind getting my gear and I'll go saddle the horses?" Reg looked at his brother, who nodded but didn't let go of his wife.

  A half an hour later, Reg and Lexi mounted up, leading the outlaw’s horses with each man tied securely to their saddles. Reg led out and Lexi, a shot gun draped across her saddle bows, brought up the rear with a keen eye on the men who'd tried to take over her home.

  Chen Lou, dressed in his traditional baggy pants and long jacket, stepped around the side of the house, a freshly pressed white shirt in his hands, and stood studying the strange procession.

  "What happen?" He questioned looking between the people on the porch and the mounted riders leaving the yard.

  Bella titled her head back and laughed. "It's quite a story, Yeye," she called, looking at the wizened Chinese man. "Have you been in the bath house ironing this whole time?"

  "Yes, ironing, I good ironing." He smiled with pride.

  "You're the best at ironing, Yeye," the young woman said, hugging her husband close to her. “Come in and let Nona and Ray explain.”

  Epilogue

  The crisp nip of fall drifted through the sunny day as Bella walked along the well-worn path toward the sound of clattering machinery further down the stream. Golden sunlight reflected off the quiet water, giving the allusion of blue sky on earth and she smiled, feeling brighter than ever before.

  Adjusting the handle of the big basket in her hands, she smiled at her image in the water. She'd taken time to change into her favorite yellow dress and adjust her hair before she started out toward the sawmill where her husband was working.

  Making the turn around the bend of the stream, the sound of the clattering belts and thunking pistons of the mill assaulted her ears. The long, open building of the mill itself was no more than a pole barn with a sloped roof to keep the sun and rain off the equipment and men. On the other side of the mill, she could see several stacks of heavy logs that had already been cut and floated down to the mill. The sweet, tangy smell of fresh sawdust filled the air and added to the essence of the day.

  Stepping boldly toward the broad opening, Isabella gazed into the relative darkness of the interior. She didn't know how anyone could stand the noise of the big jigsaw blade and the constant hammering and clattering of the machinery, but her Taylor loved it. She was proud of what he'd accomplished in just the few months he'd been part of the Broken J.

  Not only was lumber production faster and more efficient for the ranch, but without the need to hand cut every length, her brother-in-law Hank had been able to up production of his furniture making. She smiled, thinking of the item she'd just asked him to start work on for her that morning.

  Using lumber cut by this mill, Hank and her grandfather had built a new workshop for the big man's furniture making. "Just in time, too," she commented to herself.

  "Bella?" The shout from her right made her turn with a smile toward the very man she'd been looking for.

  "I brought your lunch," she called back, lifting her basket, as he strode toward her, his luminous eyes shining. "I thought we could have a picnic."

  Taylor Ogden grinned broadly at his pretty wife, then leaning forward kissed her on her pert little nose. "Alright, let me finish the cut on this log, then I'll put the brakes on and come with you. You go find a spot to your liking and I'll find you."

  Isabella smiled and nodded, not wanting to shout over the noise. She walked back along the stream a few paces to a large locust tree, whose heavy branches stretched over the water, casting black shadows among the blue. Looking back toward the mill, she could see the water wheel on the far side of the structure turning lazily in the flow of the slight fall in the stream bed.

  Things were changing all over the Broken J. Already three new homes had been added to the collection of buildings, and Taylor was currently cutting the wood that he said would make their own little house. She smiled at the thought of her own house. It would be strange to leave the big house, though, and especially to be so far from her twin, but she knew that they would soon need the space.

  She watched as Taylor strode toward her on lean legs. She enjoyed just watching him move sometimes and smiled when he flopped down on the blanket, placing his head in her lap.

  "Now isn't this a treat," the man said. "Not only do I get me some good grub, I get to eat it with the prettiest girl in the world." Raising himself up on his elbow, he kissed her quickly on the lips, before snuggling into her lap again.

  "I brought your favorite," Isabella said with a smile.

  Taylor sat up and reached for the hamper. "You brought that cheese bread?" he asked, a soft twinkle in his eye.

  "Yes," she said, and began to unpack the basket. "We have Focaccia, apple pie, and lemonade.

  "You know you spoil me," Taylor chirped with glee.

  "It's my goal in life," she shot back at him with a giggle.

  For a few minutes they sat in companionable silence, chewing the still warm bread covered in herbs and cheese.

  "It certainly is a pretty day," Isabella said, finally breaking the silence. "Not too hot, not too cold."

  "Hm," Taylor agreed.

  "I wonder what the weather will be like here in about seven months," the young woman then mused.

  "Wet, I'd guess," Taylor postulated, still enjoying his meal.

  "I hope it won't be too cold," Isabella's eyes twinkled in the bright day.

  "If it is, I'll keep you warm," Taylor said, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively.

  "Well, that will be fine for me, but I wouldn't want a little one to get a chill."

  Something about Bella's conversation was starting to nag at Taylor's brain. Why was she suddenly worried about the weather in April?

  "Bella, is there something you aren't telling me?" he asked, studying his wife's mischievous grin.

  "I was just hoping we have a nice, warm spring for your son or daughter to be born into."

  The remainder of Taylor's lunch slipped from
his suddenly numb fingers, as he stared at his wife. Was he understanding her, or was he completely addled?

  "You... We…" He blinked a few times letting it finally soak in. "We're having a baby?" he asked, jumping to his feet.

  "Yes," Isabella echoed, standing and smiling at him.

  "Yee haw!" he bellowed, then swept her into his arms, spinning her with delight.

  "A baby," he gasped in wonder as he set her back on her feet. "Good Lord. We need to get started on the house. We'll need furniture. I have to tell Reg."

  Isabella laughed as her husband danced around, spouting all the things that needed to be done before the blessed arrival. “I already asked Hank to make a cradle,” she said, her eyes bright.

  "I do think there is one thing you're forgetting that needs to be done first, though," Isabella chided.

  "What's that?" He looked at her bewildered.

  "You need to kiss me."

  Taylor Ogden, new saw mill operator of the Broken J ranch, reached out and pulled his glowing wife to him and kissed her soundly, letting all of the lists of things that needed to be done drift away on a summer breeze.

  He'd known his life would change coming to a cattle ranch in Wyoming, but he had no idea just how good it would be when he married the cattleman's daughter.

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