And stop looking at me like that!
Of late, his eyes wandered to her womanly places.
A stray lock of dark hair drooped across his forehead and gave him a boyish appearance.
Ellie fought the urge to reach out and push it aside. Darn him. Why did he have to be so good looking? She brushed by him and walked out the door, adding a little sway to her hips for good measure.
Ellie paused outside the barn just as her father appeared in the kitchen doorway. He carried a kerosene lamp and stepped out onto the veranda, rubbing his stomach with his free hand, something he always did after he ate too much of Cook’s good food. It was time for Pa’s nightly ritual of checking the livestock and making sure everything was in order before he went to bed.
Ellie stayed her distance, observing his usual habit. As she knew he would, he sat in his rocking chair and pulled on the boots he always left outside. He feared Cook’s wrath about leaving dirt on the floor. Next, he got up and stamped his feet three times, always three. He removed his hat from the hook next to the back door, held the well-worn Stetson by the brim, and slapped it against his leg to remove the excess dust, again the same number of times.
It never failed; he did the same thing day-after-day. Ellie quietly chuckled at his predictability, and how he would never admit to it. He was so dear to her, but his relationship with Ty pained her. She wanted to be the one to cause that twinkle of pride in her father’s eyes. But how? As she’d been reminded so often, she was just a girl. With a deep breath, she stepped out of the shadows.
Her pa spied her across the yard. “Where have you been, girl?”
“Sorry, Pa. I got sidetracked in town.”
“What the dickens were you doin’ in town? Don’t tell me you rode…”
“Oh, Pa, I just had this discussion with Ty. Honestly, I can take care of myself. Besides, I was trying to find a piece of yard goods I favored to make a dress for the upcoming fall festival. I got carried away looking and chatting.”
The lamplight shone on her father’s face and highlighted his broad smile. “Sewing? You? I’m happy to hear you talkin’ about doing somethin’ womanly for a change. It’s about time.”
Ellie chewed her bottom lip.
Pa’s brows rose. “Gonna tell me who your escort will be?”
Ellie fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing there was no way she was going to that silly dance. She crossed her fingers behind her back. “No one has asked me yet, but there’s still plenty of time.”
How far was she going to have to go with this lie? Her father’s fixation on her being the perfect female was almost as annoying as his relationship with Ty. She took a deep breath. This was not the time to bring up that touchy subject. Instead of trying to prove her worth with mere words, she’d show her father what she could do. She pictured her new gun. It wouldn’t be long before Pa saw her in a whole new light.
Ellie patted her rumbling belly. “I’m going inside to see if Cook saved me anything to eat.”
* * * * *
His anger grew as he ruffled his horse’s mane. “Why does she have to be so goldarn exasperatin’, fella?” Ty’s stomach was in a knot and he wanted to hit something or someone. Instead, he turned and gave the stall door a swift kick, sending it swinging into a bucket. The pail rolled into a rake and shovel leaning against the wall and knocked them over. The resulting commotion startled the stallion. He reared on his hind legs and gave a loud whinny.
Ty turned and stroked the animal’s muzzle. “It’s all right boy, calm down.”
The black cocked his head to the side as if he understood his owner’s frustration. Unable to even muster up a chuckle at the animal’s wide-eyed expression, Ty limped over to the bucket, turned it upright and sat.
Crossing one leg over the other, he wrestled to balance while he removed his boot and sock. He rubbed his toes and grimaced. The biggest one had already turned a pretty shade of purple, and all because of a blasted female who made him act like a sick pup.
He couldn’t help being protective. Despite Ellie’s strong will and stubbornness, there was something about her. What happened to that freckle-faced kid he met when he first came to Fountainhead? That gangly colt had turned into a prize-winning mare before his very eyes, that’s what. A man would have to be blind not to notice those feminine curves.
Or be affected by them. Her eyes were greener than any Tennessee grass he’d ever seen, and her full, pouty lips begged to be tasted—if she’d just stop spitting hellfire and brimstone long enough.
So many times, he pictured himself pulling her into his arms and sampling them, but he knew better.
If he so much as indicated an interest in Ellie, Ben would have his head. To him, she was still his little girl. Ty wasn’t about to let anything ruin their relationship. He valued the man too much for giving him what was missing from his life—friendship, a home, and responsibility.
An orphan for as long as he could remember, Ty drifted from town to town, never feeling a sense of belonging. He was not about to let his boss down, no matter how darn pretty his daughter was. If treating Ellie with indifference kept her mad enough to hate him, then Ty felt a whole lot safer.
“What was all that racket about?” Ben Fountain’s booming voice filled the silence and jolted Ty back to reality.
“Oh…uh…I had a cramp. I was just about to give the stallion some oats.” He fumbled with his sock and pulled his boot back on, clenching his teeth in pain.
“How’s it coming with him?” Ben asked, patting Blackie’s muzzle. “Think you’ll be able to ride anytime soon?”
“Hard to tell, boss. He’s a wild one, for sure, but I think he’s comin’ around. At least I can get close enough to curry him and strap on his feedbag.”
Ty hobbled over to fill a bag with oats. His toe throbbed against the tight constraint of his boot. “Now if you could just find someone to tame that daughter of yours. She about bites my head off if I even ask her a simple question.”
Ben laughed, his ample belly shaking. “I’m not sure there’s anyone who can break Ellie. She’s a stubborn one.”
Despite Ben standing close enough to touch, inappropriate thoughts raced through Ty’s mind. He wouldn’t mind being the one to try to gentle her, but besides respecting her Pa, Ellie wouldn’t come within roping range. Still, he pictured himself tossing a lasso around her tiny waist and reeling her in and…
He totally forgot his aching foot.
“Ty?” Ben’s voice pulled him from his reverie. “I’ve been meanin’ to ask if you plan on goin’ to that dance in town?
Ty hung the feedbag on Blackie and shrugged. “I hadn’t even given it a thought. Why?”
Ben leaned against the stall, crossing his arms and propping one foot on the bottom rail. “Ellie actually bought some material for a new dress, but says she doesn’t have a partner yet. I was thinkin’ you might invite her to go with you. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry ‘bout her. I don’t want her bein’ off by herself, what with those Bryant boys runnin’ wild and causin’ trouble.”
“And what’s Ellie gonna say about you pickin’ her date?” The idea was appealing but…
Ben chuckled. “Well, if she knew, I suppose she’d fuss about it, slam some doors and maybe even throw a real tizzy, but if we keep it our secret and you invite her, I’ll bet you a steak dinner she’ll take you up on your offer.”
Ty slowly shook his head. “If I was smart, I’d take that bet, because she won’t even stay in the barn with me let alone be my dancin’ partner. I can feel those green eyes of hers burnin’ holes in me right now.”
Ben patted him on the shoulder. “Just ask her when I’m around. I’ll help you out.”
“Do you really think it will work?” Ty’s heart pounded with excitement.
“Trust me. Despite that temper of hers, I can still handle Ellie. I’m her pa.”
Ty smiled, shaking his head. “If you say so.” His mood turned somber as he locked eyes with Ben. “Whether or not that shooter m
eant to hit or miss Ellie, I plan to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I know how much she means to you, and I want you to know I’ll keep her safe.”
I’ll keep her safe for both of us, a little voice inside Ty added.
Chapter Four
Ellie couldn’t wait to get to the abandoned mine for more target practice. She glanced around the barn to make sure no one saw her then flung the saddle across Chessie’s back. The last thing she wanted was someone asking questions. Where are you going? What are you gonna do when you get there? How annoying. Luckily, moving the cattle to a higher pasture involved most of the men. Those not helping in the relocation patrolled the perimeter of the ranch. She had no idea where Ty was, nor did she care.
With only a few practice sessions under her belt, her shooting became more and more precise. Now she needed to work on the amount of time it took to draw the weapon from her holster. Accuracy was important, but speed kept a person alive. In a showdown, if the gun didn’t clear leather before the other guy took aim, it didn’t matter whether you were armed or not. Slow meant dead, and she didn’t mean to let that happen. With her sidearm tucked in her saddlebag, Ellie centered the pack across the horse’s rump.
She finished cinching the saddle and let the stirrup fall back into place, then in a pretend speed draw, she slapped her hip, quickly raised her arm, and pointed her index finger toward the door.
“Don’t shoot,” Ty called out. He stood outside the barn with his hands in the air. “I surrender. This is becoming a habit.”
Ellie recalled that day in the mercantile and dropped her arm to her side. She was certain her hot face matched the canned beets in the house. For once she was speechless.
“That’s a pretty quick draw you have there,” he teased. “Good thing your finger wasn’t loaded.”
She turned her back on him and his annoying chuckle and led Chessie out of her stall. There was no way to defend her actions; at least nothing came to mind. Ty would have to show up and catch her at that precise moment. Her mouth scrunched into a sneer. With the heat of frustration warming her face, she raised a foot to her stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn and threw her other leg over Chessie’s back. She urged the horse toward the barn door, but before she cleared the opening, Ty stepped in her path. “Where you headin’?”
Was there no end to the ways he could exasperate her? She glared down at him. “To get some bullets for my finger. Now if you’ll kindly get out of my way.” Her hackles raised another notch.
He cocked his head to look up at her. “I was just jokin’. Criminy, no matter what I say or do, I manage to make you mad. Whatever happened to your fun-lovin’ side?”
Damn, those eyes of his. They were bluer than the Tennessee sky on a spring day. Why, when he was the most annoying, did she notice how attractive he looked? Her gaze locked just beyond the open buttons at the top of his shirt–on the hollow of his neck where his heart visibly pulsed. His heart beat in harmony with hers. Ellie did a quick and subtle head shake to clear her mind.
What had happened to her sense of humor? She didn’t have a good answer at the moment except that lately nothing seemed very funny. What made her happiest was practicing her shooting, and that was not something she wanted to discuss.
“So, are you ever gonna speak to me again?” Ty broke the awkward silence.
She tried not to grin but couldn’t help it. The look on his face was so child-like. She mellowed a bit. “Don’t be silly, of course I’ll talk to you. I have to, but not right now. I have an errand to run.”
Ty stood to the side and made a wide-sweeping gesture toward the door. “Well don’t let me stop you, but…”
She waited, but he didn’t finish the sentence. “But what?” Her jaw hung slack in anticipation.
“I do need to ask you somethin’ when you get back.”
Her curiosity piqued. “Ask me now.”
“Nah, I’d rather not. It’ll keep.” He walked behind her horse and slapped his hat against the animal’s rump. “Geeup.”
Chessie bolted forward. Ellie had the reins, but seized the saddle horn with both hands to keep from falling. She slowed the mare, turned and yelled over her shoulder, “I’ll get you for that, Tyler Bishop.”
His laughter followed her as she rode beneath the golden “F” suspended over the gate.
Ellie’s mind lingered on Ty’s mystery question, but no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t fathom anything that’d cause him to become so flustered. She had to stop thinking about it or she’d drive herself insane. Her confusion became excitement when she reached the trail to the old mine shaft. Whatever Ty had to share would keep.
She slowed Chessie to a walk and looked up and down the path to make sure no one was around. So far, her gunfire had gone unnoticed, and she wanted to keep it that way. She hadn’t run into the Bryant boys, but that didn’t mean they weren’t up to no good, especially Jeb. Now that she practically knew he was responsible for the pot shot aimed in her direction, she felt strangely secure.
Surely, he wasn’t dumb enough to try the same thing again, especially with the finger of blame pointing at him, and so many men patrolling Fountainhead.
She supposed she should be frightened to be out and about by herself, but it’d be a snowy day in Hades when the likes of Jeb Bryant kept her housebound. Besides, he was one of the reasons she practiced shooting anyhow.
Chessie’s clop, clop, clop echoed in the eerie stillness and sent a shiver through Ellie. If she believed in ghosts, the old, deserted mine would be a great hideout for them, but luckily, she didn’t hold much stock in the spirit world. Still, the desolation made the back of her neck bristle. She reached behind and patted the side of her saddlebag where her newfound security bulged. Funny how a gun made a person feel safe.
At the mouth of the mine, she dismounted and tied Chessie’s reins to a nearby tree. She buckled on her holster and loaded her gun. Power surged through her. Something about carrying a weapon made her feel in control. She chided herself for such a silly notion, but chuckled. Wearing a sidearm probably accounted for the cocky walk of most cowboys.
Ellie pulled a makeshift target from the other side of her saddlebag. It wasn’t very big, even when she unfolded it, but the circles she’d drawn on it were more distinct than the floral-patterned material she’d previously used. The busy print had made it hard to determine the hits and misses. Today would show whether her accuracy had improved as much as she believed.
She spied a small twig protruding from a tree trunk, punched it through her paper bull’s-eye then backed up twenty paces.
Ty’s teasing words echoed in her mind, and she laughed. She must’ve looked pretty ridiculous with her hand forming a make-believe gun. What would he think if he knew she had a real one, and knew how to use it?
She withdrew her Smith & Wesson and rubbed her hand along its length. Her new revolver was sure different than the old rifle she’d used to shoot cans off the corral railing in her younger days. Back then, you could take all day to pull the trigger and not worry about something shooting back at you.
Ellie took careful aim at the target and squeezed the trigger. Chessie nervously danced at the noise but settled after one or two rounds. "It's all right girl. I'm just practicin'."
After hitting only one ring away from center, she fired again, then again and again. Each bullet hole moved closer to the middle, but didn't quite make it. She gnashed her teeth in frustration.
Maybe she was trying too hard. Perhaps a change in strategy might help. She decided to attempt some quick draws and holstered her weapon. With legs slightly apart and feeling balanced, Ellie’s hand hovered over the twenty-two. Her gaze fixed on the target. She took a deep breath then yanked the weapon clear of leather and held it mid-air. At that exact second, a bullet whizzed by her ear, hitting the bull’s-eye dead center.
Ellie’s head whipped around in the direction of the gunshot, her arm followed. Her weapon pointed directly at Jeb Bryant, astride his horse and holstering h
is sidearm. A cocky smile played across his face. “That’s how you do it, Miz Fountain.”
Her heart thundered beneath her shirt. The sight of him sickened her. How she hated his condescending attitude.
Not yet ready for a confrontation, she lowered her weapon. Finally, she managed to find her voice. “What are you doing here?”
There was an evil twang to his chuckle. He sobered and leaned forward, an arm resting on his saddle horn. “I could ask you the same thing? Aren’t you a little far from Fountainhead?”
“This is public land, and I don’t think what I’m doing is any of your business.”
Jeb’s lips thinned. He stood in the stirrups then dismounted.
Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. He’d already humiliated her, why didn’t he just ride on? She grasped her weapon tightly, keeping it aimed at the ground but ready to use.
Jeb closed the distance between them. He stopped uncomfortably close and leered down at her. “You know, I’ve never liked a sassy woman.”
Despite the knot in the pit of her stomach, she squared her shoulders and returned his stare. “I’m sorry to hear that. I suggest if you don’t like me, then stay away.” Brave words from a body whose insides quivered.
His large hand snaked out and cupped her chin. He bent slightly, allowing his fetid alcohol breath to wash over her before his lips curled into a feral smile. His fingers held her face straight and his voice became a whisper. “A woman like you needs to be green-broke—tamed just enough to leave a little wild streak. I aim to be the one to do it. You best be nice to me cuz my brother ain’t here to save you this time.”
No, but she had something just as effective. Ellie yanked free of his grasp and leveled her gun at his midsection. “Get your hands off me. I might have missed the bull’s-eye at twenty paces, but I’m betting I could hit the mark at this range.”
Jeb’s eyes widened. He took two steps back and raised his hands. “Whoa! I was just havin’ a little fun with ya.”
Ellie's Legacy Page 4
