Without waiting for an answer, he spun and headed downstairs. He hoped Nate and Jess returned early today. Then one of them could watch the lovely Miss Langston. Like a ghost from a haunting dream, her scent clung to him, teasing him. He appreciated her saving his life, but he’d never thought about her as anything except Will’s niece—an unexpected burden—albeit a pretty one. One that he’d promised to take care of. She had been trouble since they met. Snippy. Bossy. Sassy.
But then he held her in his arms—and none of the rest mattered.
CHAPTER NINE
The horse squealed and kicked the back of the stall. Thump. Thump. The scent of something burning seared her nostrils. Was the barn on fire?
Keri bolted upright. Pain charged up her leg, and her room came into focus. She blew out a breath and straightened her leg, being careful not to twist her ankle. No fire, just a dream. She swiped sweat from her cheek where it had lain against the pillow.
Thump. Thump. “Miss Keri, are you awake?”
Keri’s heart bolted like a horse from a starting gate. What could Brooks Morgan want at her bedroom door?
He jiggled the handle, and she searched for a place to hide. She wasn’t ready to see him again. Not after the shameless spectacle she’d made earlier. But she had nowhere to hide, so she sat up straight and lifted her chin in the air. “What are you doing up here again?”
He gently kicked the door open, and wearing a worn apron, held up a tray, complete with a glass holding a trio of bent daisies. “I brought dinner.”
“Is that what I smell burning?”
His grin did odd things to her stomach. Or maybe it was just hunger that was swirling in her belly.
“Yes and no. Can I come in?”
“Where’s Nate and Jess?” She glanced past his shoulders, which all but filled the doorway.
“They haven’t come in yet. They rode out to one of the far pastures today, so it may take a bit longer for them to get back.”
She waved him in and used her good foot to push up in the bed. He set the tray in front of her, and the savory fragrance of stew and corn bread teased her senses, although the stew looked a bit dry and the corn bread overly brown. Using the spoon, she lifted some kind of meat. “What’s this?”
The rascal’s eyes lit up. “I could tease you and say it’s frog or armadillo.”
Keri turned up her nose and stared at the pink meat. “Looks like ham.”
“It is. I rode over and bought a smoked ham off the Jacksons. They tried to give it to me when I told them what happened, but I knew you wouldn’t like that, so I paid for it with my last dime.”
She glanced up and smiled. “Stew tastes a heap better with meat in it. Thanks.”
He nodded, eyes dancing. “My pleasure, ma’am. Do you need anything else? I’d hoped to have some fresh milk, but it’s a bit early to tend to that task yet.”
“Water is fine.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. “My pleasure.” He nudged his head toward the door. “There’s a mess in the kitchen that needs cleaning, and besides, I’ve no hankerin’ to get buck-shot, which is what will happen if Nate finds me up here.” He pretended to tip his hat, which he wasn’t wearing, then ducked out the door.
She lifted the flowers to her nose and realized she hadn’t heard Brooks’s footsteps going downstairs. He peeked back in the doorway, and she jumped, spilling water on her shirt. “What?”
“I forgot to ask how your foot is.”
“It’s sore, no thanks to you.”
“Probably will be for a few days. Sorry.”
She glared at him to hide her embarrassment at being caught enjoying the flowers. “Stop saying that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He disappeared, and this time she heard him clomping down the stairs.
Keri let out a sigh. Why did he irritate her so? He was only being nice—after causing her to almost break her leg. But he was really nice. And easy on the eyes. She was even starting to get used to his smiling all the time.
And how did a person do that?
For the first time, she wondered about his past. How could Brooks Morgan grow up to be such a charming rascal? He was older than she was—by a good five or six years, if she had to guess. But most times, he acted like a kid. Or an idiot.
And then he went and brought her supper in bed. And three flowers—with a lady bug on one.
How was she supposed to stay angry with him when he did nice things like that?
She spooned a tiny taste of stew into her mouth; it was bursting with flavor. She took a bigger bite and enjoyed the salty taste, then pinched off a square of corn bread. Surprise, surprise. She never would have thought Brooks Morgan could cook such a decent meal.
Brooks stared into his coffee and listened to Nate’s theory at supper.
“The water is just about all dried up, except in a place or two that’s deeper than most.” Nate ran his hand up his forehead and into his thick, gray hair. “I can’t say as I know what to do.”
“And you think Dengler’s behind it?”
Jess had been cramming the stew into his mouth like a starving man, but halted his spoon midair and glanced at Nate at the mention of Saul Dengler.
Nate nodded. “I suspect he’s blocked the flow upriver.”
“Is that legal?” Brooks snagged another piece of corn bread. It was a bit overdone but still edible.
Shrugging, Nate took a bite of his food. “Don’t know as there’s any law against it, but it goes against all that’s good. No decent man keeps water from another.”
Brooks leaned back in his chair and rubbed his index finger across the mark on his throat that had nearly healed. “Guess we all know what kind of man Dengler is.”
Jess leaned forward, his brown eyes gleaming. “Did he really try to hang you?”
Nodding, Brooks sipped his coffee and remembered how close to death he’d come. “Not him, but two of his men. They wanted me to sign over the ranch to Dengler.”
Nate held his cup with both hands and stared into it. “Faced with life or death, most men would have happily handed over the deed.” He glanced up, his pale blue eyes serious. “How come you didn’t?”
Brooks walked to the stove and grabbed the coffee pot while contemplating his response. For the past week, he’d been the odd man out. They resented his presence and the fact the he won the ranch from Will when they all expected it to go to Keri. He may own the deed to the land, but it was obvious that she ran the ranch and still held the ranch hands’ loyalty.
Most of his life, he’d joked his way out of one situation and into another. He hadn’t minded being a loner, because a loner had no ties and could move on whenever he wanted. But for the first time since leaving home, he wanted to belong. Belong to this tiny crew of three.
He refilled each man’s cup then sat down and looked at Nate. “It’s been ten years since I’ve had a home. This place was important to Will, and Will was my friend. It became important to me before I ever laid eyes on it.”
“Important enough to die for?” Nate held his gaze.
Brooks nodded. “If that’s God’s will.” He didn’t flinch, but held Nate’s stare, and something in the older man’s gaze softened.
“I reckon Will knew you were man enough to hang on to this place.”
Brooks sat up a bit straighter. Other than Will, few men had ever respected him, and Nate’s acceptance meant more to him than there were words to explain.
“So, what are we going to do about Dengler?” Jess pushed his plate back, corn bread crumbs and dots of stew broth covered his chest.
Brooks looked at Nate, who seemed to be waiting on a response from him. “I say we go over there and blow up his dam.”
“You can’t blow up Dengler’s dam.” Keri stomped across the kitchen, instantly sorry when pain shot up her leg. After two days of resting it, she was going loco and had to leave her room.
Brooks flipped pancakes that circled the skillet. “He’s blocked the flow of water from Raven Creek land. Wh
at else can we do?”
“We could try talking to him.”
Brooks spun around, holding up the spatula like a weapon. “Are you crazy? Do you know what kind of man you’re talking about?”
She shoved her hands to her hips. “Of course I do. I’m the one who’s lived here most of my life.”
Brooks turned back to his pancakes, and Keri studied his back. He was tall, with wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist and long, denim-clad legs. His light-blue shirt was tight at the shoulders, and his straight, brown hair hung down to his collar. She spun around on her good foot and moved to the doorway. She was getting far too familiar with this man. He’d stolen her dream, and she wanted to hate him for it but was finding it harder and harder to stay mad at him, especially when he was such a good cook—and she seriously disliked cooking.
The skillet clanged as he moved it off the stove and onto the wooden counter. “Breakfast is ready. Would you mind ringing the bell?”
Keri stepped outside and ran the clangor around the iron triangle. Jess stuck his head out the barn door and waved. “They’re coming,” she said as she stepped back into the warm kitchen.
“Sit down and rest your foot.”
“You don’t have to baby me.”
He grinned and shoveled three pancakes onto her plate. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you grimaced a few moments ago. I’ve had a sprained ankle, and you just have to rest them and let them heal.”
“I’m going loco with nothing to do. I need to keep busy.”
He took hold of her wrist and tugged her toward her chair. “You need to sit down and eat. Maybe I can find something to occupy your time.”
She plopped down, her mouth watering at the warm scent drifting up from the flapjacks. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
Nate and Jess tramped in, dripping wet from their recent scrubbing. They took their places, and Jess smiled at Keri. “Good to see you up again.”
“Thanks.” She glanced at Nate. “Anything new on the water situation?”
“No, sad to say. It’s only getting worse. We’re going to have to do something or our cattle will be breaking down the fence to get to water.”
“So, what should we do?”
Brooks poured coffee then took his seat. “I’ve been thinking on that. Does Dengler attend church?”
Keri and both ranch hands stared at Brooks like he’d suddenly turned rabid. “Why would you ask such a thing? What’s that got to do with anything?”
Brooks slathered some of the butter Keri had churned yesterday onto his pancakes. “Because image and reputation is important to a man like Saul Dengler. I’m thinking if he’s a churchgoing man, we can confront him in a crowd, which saves us from gettin’ hurt and does serious damage to Dengler’s image.”
Keri glanced at Nate, not a little surprised that the plan was so good.
“It could work.” Nate sipped his coffee and seemed to be studying on the idea.
After applying butter and molasses, Keri bit into her pancakes. “Mmm … pure heaven on a plate.”
Nate cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Keri glanced at Jess then at Brooks, whose wide grin told her he was pleased by her comment. “Well, I’m not going to lie. They are good. Better than mine even.” She ducked her head, feeling her cheeks heat. If she wasn’t careful, Brooks might think she liked him or something. And that was just plain absurd.
Three days later, Keri stared at the dress laid out on her bed. One of the reasons she didn’t like attending church was that women had to wear dresses—their nicest dresses. When she was younger, she and Uncle Will hadn’t attended church because there hadn’t been one close enough. Occasionally, a traveling minister would pass through the area, and families would gather together for a service. The thing she liked most about those had been eating the delicious food and desserts cooked by the ladies. They rarely tasted such delectable fare.
She wrangled on her dress and stared at herself in the hand mirror. She supposed she didn’t look half bad. What will Brooks think? He hadn’t seen her in a dress except for that first day when she shot him down from the tree, but he hadn’t known who she was then. Shaking her head, she fastened the buttons, quickly fixed her hair in the style she’d worn at school, then hurried downstairs.
The men waited on the porch and stood in unison as she came out the front door. Nate whistled through his teeth. “If I’d known you looked that pretty in a dress, Missy, I’d have burned those pants of yours.”
She smiled and glanced at Brooks, whose gaze was fixed on her. A warm blush rushed to her cheeks, and she looked away, but not before she noticed how handsome he looked in his fresh white shirt and clean black pants. He’d even polished his boots.
Nate helped her down the porch while Jess unhitched their horses. Brooks stood at the side of the buggy waiting. Nate handed her off to Brooks, who smiled and lifted her into the buggy. Keri adjusted the tie of her hat and fanned her face with her hand. Oh bother. She’d left her gloves upstairs.
What did it matter? Everyone in town knew she ran around in men’s pants and probably thought her utterly uncouth. After all, she lived on a ranch with three men—none of whom she was related to.
The buggy creaked as Brooks climbed on board. He grabbed the reins and clucked out the side of his cheek to the horse. She could have driven herself and knew he’d be more comfortable on Jester, but she appreciated that he wanted to escort her. Nate and Jess rode up ahead, a short distance away.
The day was perfect. The sky was a vivid blue, and clouds as white as Brooks’s teeth dotted the sky. Birds chirped in the trees they passed on their way to the road. The only thing that marred the day was that she was headed to church.
CHAPTER TEN
Brooks leaned close to Keri. “You look lovely today. I could get used to seeing you in dresses.”
She frowned at him and shook her skirt. “Well, don’t. They’re bulky, hot, and awkward when riding a horse.”
He chuckled. “You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the girl.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “Not funny.”
“But true.”
They rode on in silence for a while, but Keri kept sighing. “Care to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked.
She shrugged and didn’t say anything, so Brooks kept quiet. He wondered about the church. Would it be like the one he had attended with his folks when he was young? A large woman playing a pump organ followed by a skinny preacher shouting at them?
If he hadn’t made that promise to God the day he nearly died, he probably wouldn’t be headed to church now.
But he had.
And he was.
“I don’t like to attend church.” Keri’s whisper was so low that he almost didn’t hear it.
“And why is that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged again. “Maybe because some ‘good’ church ladies tried to take me away from Uncle Will when he first brought me here.”
Brooks clenched his teeth. He could easily see some well-meaning busybodies meddling in Will’s affairs. It was an unusual situation for an uncle to raise his niece without the aid of a wife. “I’m sorry that happened.”
“Yeah, well, me too. I was a scared little kid. Didn’t know why my ma gave me to my uncle and why he brought me to a strange place.”
“That must have been hard.”
“I guess. It was a long time ago.”
Up ahead, he saw Nate and Jess pull into the churchyard. The bell rang out a cheerful greeting, and people, buggies, and horses filled the yard. His stomach swirled. He understood Keri’s apprehension. He hadn’t been in a church in over a decade and didn’t know what to expect. “Well, we’ll face it together. I promise not to leave your side.”
Her gaze jerked from the crowd of happy people to his, and he could see the worry there. “Truly?”<
br />
He nodded and reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’re a team. Hangings or church, we’ll face them together.”
Brooks chuckled at Keri’s wide-eyed expression, parked the wagon, and jumped down. He lifted her out of the wagon, catching her gaze and holding it as he set her on the ground. “Don’t worry. I suspect these are good folks for the most part.”
She nodded and took his arm. The majority of the crowd had made their way inside the white, steepled building, and they followed, going slowly because of Keri’s limp. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Why should he be nervous? Yeah, it had been over ten years since he’d stepped inside a church—back when he still lived with his parents—but he’d made a promise to the Almighty, and he aimed to keep that promise.
“Welcome.” A man clad in a black coat greeted them with a warm smile and an outstretched hand. “Glad to have you folks today.”
Brooks couldn’t quite bring himself to respond, “Glad to be here,” so he smiled and shook his hand, then guided Keri inside. They settled in a pew near the back, beside an open window that allowed the light breeze to offer its cooling touch. Nate and Jess slid in on Keri’s right side. Brooks looked around the crowded building but saw no sign of Dengler or his hench-men, not that he expected to.
“Still don’t know why we had to come to church,” Jess mumbled, loud enough that Brooks heard. A stern-faced man on the row in front of them turned and glared at Jess.
Brooks focused on the front where a thin woman with a pile of hair as tall as a horse’s knee sat, playing a familiar tune on a pump organ.
A few minutes later, the man who’d greeted them in the back strode down the aisle to the front, turned, and smiled. He was younger than the reverend at the church back home and introduced himself as Pastor Damian Griffith. He led two songs, singing with boisterous gusto and a joy Brooks had witnessed in few people. Then the man prayed for the congregation—a blessing on the people, their homes, and their crops and herds.
He glanced up with a big smile, and said, “Praise be this day—the day the Lord has made. I want to open with a passage from Job 8. ‘Can the rush grow up without mire? Can the flag grow without water? Whilst it is yet in his greenness, and not cut down, it withereth before any other herb. So are the paths of all that forget God.’”
End of the Trail Page 8
