“Not sure you could say my real name so why don’t you jest call me Daniel. I knew a feller once called that who was a mighty wise feller so I’ll just use that name fer now. As to how I got here that ain't important. I go where the Boss sends me.”
Royce was not happy with that answer. "Well, why did your boss send you to my wife’s graveside?”
The stranger lifted his coonskin cap and scratched his head. “He didn’t send me to this graveside. He sent me to you, Royce Clark. Told me ta give ya a message.”
“How did your boss know to send you to me here? And what message?”
The mountain man shook his head. "Not my boss, the Boss.” He looked and pointed up. “You know the Boss of all bosses, King of all kings, Lord of all lords. The BOSS.”
Royce took a step back. “You’re saying that God told you to bring me a message?”
Daniel smiled. "Of course, He told me to bring ya a message; I'm a messenger, ain't I?”
“You’re a messenger? Like an angel?”
“I knew ya'd figure it out. Now listen, you is thinking about yer situation with yer wife all wrong.”
Royce wasn’t sure this buckskin-clad person was in his right mind and didn’t know what to do to end this conversation and get the man off his ranch. The man stopped talking and glared at Royce. “I ain't crazy. We come to you people in a form you can understand. It never went so good when we showed up in our real forms. Ain't cha ever wondered why every angel in the Bible says don’t be afraid?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
The man sighed. “I can see yer gonna be a tough one. Fine; I’ll let ya see, but remember I warned ya."
Then a light seemed to start shining from the man's center, and it got brighter with every second until Royce couldn’t deny what was happening. The light flared and for just a brief moment Royce saw the vision of the angel unhindered by the form of the trapper. He saw the wings and eyes and visage of the holy messenger in its natural form. Just as the angel had tried to explain, it did fill Royce with a type of reverent fear. Then the light blazed so bright that Royce covered his face. When he removed his hands, the mountain man stood before him again. “Ya convinced now?”
Royce swallowed hard. “Yes, I believe that you are an angel. You said you had a message for me?”
The angel, Daniel, nodded. “Yes. The message was this; yer holding on to Lucy but she ain't there.” Daniel pointed to the grave. “She is in glory with the Creator. It’s time ya let her go.”
Royce shook his head “I can’t. I made a vow to her before God to love her, to be faithful to her.”
The messenger nodded his head. “That’s right, you did, but yer forgetting part of that vow, ain't ya? That vow was until death, and Lucy is dead. Ya fulfilled yer vow.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“I never said it would be easy, but I just give the message. Think on this, Royce Clark; you made those same vows to Marta. You ain't keeping them.”
Royce felt anger rising up inside him. “That’s not fair. I didn’t have a choice. I needed Marta’s help. She understands that I don’t love her.”
The angel just stared at him. Royce stood defiantly but with every passing second, he felt more uncomfortable. Then Daniel spoke. “Time of choice is comin’ ta ya, Royce Clark. It’s comin’ fast.”
Royce was confused. This conversation seemed to have changed, and he didn’t understand why. “What’s that got to do with Marta?”
The angel straightened. “It has everything to do with Marta and with you. What reason do you have to hold on to the past? Why would you not embrace the woman the Boss sent to you in your hour of need?”
Royce looked down at the tombstone and knelt once more to stroke the name he had chiseled into the stone. How did he explain to anyone how his heart wanted things to be different? How he married Marta because he knew his children needed her. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself need her beyond what he had to.
Daniel spoke from behind him. “Soon you will have to choose to let go of the past. To let go of a vow that you’ve already fulfilled and move forward to keep the vow you made to your current wife; or you could choose to hold on to your past, the vows you refuse to see as fulfilled. In choosing the second one, you’ll lose the future the Boss has planned for you. Choose well, Royce Clark, for your choice will affect not only you and your wife but your children and their futures as well.”
“What do you mean by that?” Royce demanded as he quickly stood and turned to confront the angel. Only there was no one there. If he’d had any doubt that the mountain man was an angel as he claimed, he didn’t now. He wondered what the messenger had meant by his last statement. He shuddered as he considered the words again. The whole last statement had the feeling of a warning. He walked over to Blue and climbed into the saddle. Dire warnings aside, he had rumors to run down. He’d head home for lunch and then ride over to the Morgan Ranch and talk to Waylon. Afterward, he’d head into Creede and talk with the sheriff and see if there are any truth to the rumors. He turned Blue toward the ranch house and some of Marta’s cooking. He may not let his heart love her, but he would enjoy her skills in the kitchen for certain sure.
Marta’s day had been hectic so far. After she’d been introduced to the men who lived at the ranch, she had watched as Royce had saddled his horse, Blue, and rode out to work on checking fences. He’d told her he’d be back for lunch with her and the children. She went to the kitchen and cleaned up the dishes she’d used to feed Royce and Fuzzy. She’d stuck a plate of food in the oven to stay warm until she got the children up.
She quickly gathered the sheets off the bed she and Royce had slept in, and all the used diapers, and both Rose and Raeann’s soakers and took them to the washroom she had found attached to the back of the house. Rachel told Marta that Royce had built it for Lucy the year before when she complained how hard it was to be pregnant and do the laundry outside in the cold. The room had two enormous tubs, one for washing, and one for rinsing. There was a wringer attached to the rinse tub. There was a small stove and two large buckets for heating water. Clotheslines were strung to hang the clothing on in the cold weather so that the heat from the stove would help them dry.
Marta washed the linens and baby things. She hung them on the line strung outside since it was only mid-July and warm outside. She put some more water on to heat. She would do all the linens and have the children gather up the rest of the laundry. She’d do some more tomorrow morning. She went inside to wake the children and get them fed. She put the bottle for Raeann in a pot of water to warm as she woke everyone.
Marta had done everything with thoughts of Royce's kisses and questioning why he’d pulled back so suddenly filling her head. She knew that he was attracted to her; it would have been impossible for her not to know that after the way he’d held her this morning in the bed. However, just like the kisses she asked for afterward, he jumped away from her like he couldn’t make up his mind if he was going to allow himself to be her husband or not. She wondered if it was just that he was still grieving the loss of his first wife or was it that he didn’t find her as attractive as Lucy. Marta knew she was a bit bigger than what most men were attracted to. She also had more drab, don’t-pay-attention-to-me clothes than pretty dresses and gowns. Before that had never bothered her. However, now that she was married to a man who made her heart race when she saw him, she wanted his to race at the thought of her, too. Had she condemned herself to a life without love? It wasn’t so bad when you were single to know you wouldn’t be the person who put that look on someone's face. It was another thing when you had a husband and still didn’t seem to be able to evoke passion and adoration. Maybe she shouldn’t have listened to that stupid angel.
She shook that thought from her head. This family needed her and even if that was all she ever had, it would be enough. She got Rachel up and asked her to get Rose changed and dressed while she went and woke her brothers. Once all the older children were dress
ed and at the table eating, she got Raeann up and changed her. Afterwards, Marta sat with the children as she fed the baby. “All right, today we are going to spend time playing the treasure hunt game.”
Randy looked up at her, his blue eyes wide. “What’s that?”
Marta smiled at him. “I’m so glad you asked me, Randy. Today I’m going to give you a list of things I need you to find for me here at the house. When you find them, you’ll bring them to me and I’ll give you a point for each one. Whoever has the most points by the end of the game will get their dessert at dinner served first."
RJ looked at her like he knew this was a trick of some kind. “What kind of things are you going to send us to find?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see, RJ. But I promise you I’m not going to make it easy for you to find the things I want.”
“What if I don’t want to play your game? I want to go out and help Slim with the horses.”
Marta looked at the older boy. “RJ, I understand that you want to go help with the ranch work; I will talk with your pa when he comes home for lunch to see if that’s okay with him. Until then, I need you to stay with me and help out with our game.”
The boy’s face showed he wasn’t happy about this situation, but he knew his pa had told them they had to listen to Marta just like they’d listened to their ma. So he huffed and finished his food. Once they were all done, Marta told them they needed to help her with her treasure hunt by finding her the dirtiest pair of pants they could. She told RJ and Randy they could only bring her pants that belonged to themselves. She told Rachel she could bring in their pa’s since she didn’t have any pants.
That’s how the morning went with Marta having the kids compete with each other in helping her sort the laundry and gather the things that needed to be cleaned. By the time Royce rode up to have lunch with them, the laundry was mostly done and drying on the line, and Marta had found how much the older three knew school-wise. She wanted to talk to Royce after they went to bed tonight about the possibility of getting them into the school in Bachelor that her friend Julianne Fontaine had started. She figured it would be too far for them to travel daily, but maybe she could get together with Julianne once a week, get the next week's lessons from her, and go over them with the children here at the ranch. She knew how important it was for them to know how to read, write, and work their sums.
Lunch went well except for the fact that Marta felt like Royce was there but avoiding her. He had given permission for the older three to play outside, either between the ranch house, bunkhouse, and barn, or out back between the laundry and the house where Marta could see them. Then, with only a quick kiss, he was gone. He’d told Marta that he needed to ride into Creede and over to see one of the neighbors about some rumors of ranches being hit by rustlers and other trouble.
She hoped that he just had a lot on his mind and that she hadn’t done something to make him decide she wasn’t worth paying attention to. She didn’t expect him to fall in love with her but, for the most part, he wasn’t even acknowledging her. This was not what she’d wanted in a marriage. She’d have been better off to have found another nanny position than the way things were now.
Six
Royce was headed southwest toward Topaz. He knew he’d reach Waylon’s ranch before he got to the little town. He didn’t spend much time in Topaz; no one did, it just wasn’t much of a town, even less than Creede. He knew that Waylon’s men would have gone to Creede if they were looking forward to blowing off a little steam. Hopefully, they had heard more information than the rumors his hands had heard. Maybe Waylon had heard something more definite about what might be going on than just a few rumors passed among drunk cowboys and miners.
Royce noticed a rider headed his way. He pulled his Winchester from its saddle boot and set it across the saddle. This was still Creede after all, and while he’d be friendly, he’d also be smart. Desperate men sometimes did desperate things and since the fire last month some men had to be very desperate. As he got closer, he relaxed and slid the rifle back in the saddle boot. He noticed his neighbor do the same thing. “Clark, didn’t expect to see you today. Heard a rumor you got married yesterday.”
“Not a rumor; I married one of the women who had gone missing. Marta Campbell was her name. She was going to California to be a nanny. When she didn’t show up, they replaced her. Since I need help with my children and the woman-work around the ranch, seemed like a good fit for both of us.”
“Shouldn’t you be home getting to know the little woman?”
Royce shook his head. “Isn’t like that, Morgan. My heart belongs to Lucy; you know that. Marta's fine with the arrangement we have.” Royce felt a little guilty about that statement because he knew it wasn’t exactly true. The words of the messenger came to his mind again and he pushed them away. “Besides, I needed to find out the truth about these rustler rumors. That’s why I was headed to your ranch. I figured if anyone knew the truth, it would be you.”
Morgan’s face hardened. “They aren’t rumors, and it isn’t just rustlers. It seems someone is trying to push the little ranchers out of the area.”
Royce’s heart sped up at that declaration. He’d heard of the types of techniques bigger ranchers sometimes used to push the little guy out of the area. None of them was good and they often led to a range war. That was something Creede didn’t need. “Do we know who?”
“No, but a couple of the smaller ranches closer to Topaz had a guy in a suit show up last few weeks offering to buy their spreads and cattle. Price was always a bit too low to make it worthwhile. Then suddenly they have cattle missing. Jefferson had several hands up and quit. All of them looking like they’d taken a beating before they left. He thinks someone encouraged them to move on. Then last night Andrew's bunkhouse and barn were torched. While he and the hands were fighting the fire, his whole herd was stolen. That’s why I was heading to Creede; I need to see whether the sheriff will take this seriously now and start investigating.”
Royce was shocked. He didn’t know all this was going on. “You mean the sheriff knows about this?”
Morgan nodded as they started riding toward Creede. “Yeah, he knows about the rumors, as he called them the last time we talked. Said there weren't enough lawmen to hunt down rustlers. He indicated that we ranchers should deal with it ourselves. He also suggested that the little guys take the offers to sell they were being given.”
Royce looked at the other rancher. “You think he’s in on it?”
Morgan shrugged. “Don’t know. Everyone knows he doesn’t do anything without Anders say so. It just struck me as strange that he knew about the offers to buy them ranches. I didn’t think Anders was interested in ranching. He’s always been willing to buy his beef from us ranchers.”
Royce grunted and thought about that. “If Archie wasn’t in jail, I’d think this was one of his schemes to make a name for himself separate from his uncle.”
“Hmm, hadn’t thought of that. Wonder if he set all this in place before he was arrested?”
“Maybe we should get the sheriff to ask him.”
Morgan shrugged again. “Don’t think he’ll be of much use. We need a real lawman here. Might have to get together with a few other ranchers and hire us a Pinkerton or two to come figure out what's going on.”
Royce’s thoughts ran in another direction. “I know a guy who is a U.S. Marshall. I could send him a wire if you want. He’d probably come investigate without charging us.”
“Let’s see what the sheriff says, but it couldn’t hurt to wire him. If he comes, great. If not, we aren’t out anything. Then we can get together with the other ranchers and talk about hiring Pinkertons."
With a plan in mind now, the two men grew silent. As one, they kicked their mounts into a gallop. They wouldn’t know what plan to take until they talked to the sheriff and found out what he was doing about the situation. They would have to do something before whoever was targeting the ranches went too far and killed someone.
That thought sobered Royce. He’d have to make sure his men were armed, and start leaving someone at the ranch house until this was resolved.
Once in Creede, Royce and Waylon rode straight to the sheriff's office. As they climbed down from their horses in front of the jail, they saw Archibald Grady walking out of the front door. “What is going on?” Royce asked. “How in the world is that man walking free after what he did to all those women?”
Waylon shook his head. “Let’s go see, but I get the feeling, we’re not going to like the answer.”
The two men entered the sheriff's office in front of the jail. Royce wasted no time walking up to the dark-haired man sitting behind the desk like he didn’t have a care in the world. “How can I help you gentleman?” His voice was filled with sarcasm, letting them both know they weren’t going to be getting any real help from “Black Jack” Ketchem. Royce placed his hands on the desk and leaned toward the sheriff who hadn’t sat forward or even moved since they entered the office. He was tired of this puffed-up toad acting like he was better than the men he was supposed to work for. “Why did we see Archie Grady walking out of here a free man?”
Now Jack leaned forward, his pasty face turning red with anger. “It’s not any of your business why I let him go but I’ll tell you. I investigated the matter and found no evidence that he was involved in the kidnapping and imprisonment of those women. As a matter of fact, I can’t find much proof that those women, for the most part, weren’t there because they chose to be.”
Royce's voice went frosty with his own anger. “I’m married to one of those women, Jack. I can tell you that my wife didn’t choose to be locked in a root cellar. She was on her way to California to become a nanny for a respected family when she was waylaid.”
Rescuing the Rancher (Cowboys and Angels Book 3) Page 5
