If Charlie let something happen to the boss’s daughter, Frank would never forgive him.
Opal thought Charlie must be exaggerating, trying to frighten her. Until she managed to raise her head to see over his shoulder and caught sight of the large, dark-bearded man with a rifle pointed at them.
“He’s got a gun,” she huffed.
“Then you’d better pray he’s not a sharpshooter!”
She couldn’t find the breath to tell him she didn’t put much stock in prayer, not anymore.
Charlie slid his own weapon back into its scabbard by his knee and slung his arm around her waist, bending low over the horse’s neck. Shielding her, she realized, as her arms came around his neck. From her prone position, she had to cling to him or risk falling from the horse.
She had to rely completely on him.
For someone used to doing for herself, she didn’t like the feeling of utter helplessness at all.
And then a weapon boomed and Charlie jerked in the saddle.
For one terrifying moment, Opal feared they were both going to fall from the galloping horse. But then Charlie seemed to regain his seat and his arm tightened around her.
“Are you shot?” she gasped.
“Yep.” His reply was short, curt, but much calmer than she expected.
As she watched, a crimson stain bloomed on his shirt.
She knew enough to put pressure on the wound, eliciting a grunt from him when her palm pressed flat against his muscular shoulder.
“Good thinkin’, sugar plum.” He still pushed the horse at a breakneck speed.
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “What are we going to do?”
“This.”
They crossed a ridge and Charlie wheeled the horse sharply to the right, ensconcing them behind a stand of scrub brush. He straightened in the saddle and removed his rifle again.
Moments later, three horsemen crossed the same ridge. Charlie took a shot, the report of the rifle ringing in Opal’s ears, its kick rocking both of them.
“Winged one of ‘em,” Charlie said.
A second gunshot erupted from somewhere else.
“Looks like Erick got one of the others. They’re turning now.”
Opal watched as the three riders hustled back over the ridge and out of sight.
“Did you… the men you hit-will they die?” She could barely think the words, but forced them through frozen lips anyway.
“Possibly. Couldn’t tell where Erick’s shot hit, but mine just nicked his arm. Of course there’s always the chance of infection setting in.”
“They gone, Boss?” One of Charlie’s men rode near, out of breath, dark perspiration covering his horse’s neck and chest.
“Looks like it. You want to ride back and make sure? Get Misty-she threw a shoe-on your way? Jest ignore the squalling cat in the hatbox.”
The other man nodded, though one of his eyebrows arched. “Catch up to you at the Brown’s place?”
Charlie glanced at the sky and Opal followed his gaze to the rapidly-darkening horizon. “It’s still a ways to Brown’s. Might be dark before we make it.”
She was close enough to feel a fine tremor run through him; a shift of her hand on his injured shoulder caused a groan from deep in his chest.
“Charlie was shot,” she informed the other cowboy. “We’ll join Lee with the herd and make camp. I can take care of Charlie’s wound.”
Charlie started to protest and she shushed him with a sharp shake of her head. “I don’t need to sleep indoors. Your wound needs tending more than I need the comfort of a roof over my head.”
Certainly he deserved it after he’d quite possibly saved her life.
Charlie succumbed to her suggestion with surprising meekness. Within a half hour, they’d settled into a crude camp of bedrolls surrounding a small fire with Lee taking first watch over the horses nearby.
Perched next to a small stream, Opal wrung out the cleanest rag she’d found among the cowboy’s saddlebags and turned back to find Charlie had shed his shirt. Instantly, heat filled her face at the sight of his muscled back and shoulders; she only hoped the growing dark would hide her reaction. What was it about the cowboy that attracted her so? He was nothing like her intended, Grover. Charlie was uncouth, almost rough compared to the young banker’s son back in Omaha.
But there was something about him that made her feel safe. Protected.
Shaking off her distracting thoughts, Opal knelt next to Charlie and began dabbing at the wound. In the flickering light from the campfire she saw the bullet had dug a shallow furrow in his flesh, but it seemed to have passed through without lodging there.
“It doesn’t look terribly bad,” she said softly, awareness of their intimate setting lowering her voice. “The bleeding is slowing. It’s too bad you don’t carry a disinfectant with you, but Lee had some sugar we can use.”
“You appropriated Lee’s sugar?” She didn’t have to look at his face to recognize the smile in his voice. “He’ll be cranky in the morning when he tries to swallow Erick’s coffee without it.”
Opal kept her eyes on her task and tried to ignore the feel of his hot skin under her fingertips.
“I have to admit I’m surprised you know what to do for a gunshot wound. Is there somethin’ your pa should know about what you’ve been doing back in Omaha? Or maybe the people you’ve been sparking?”
She stiffened. “If you’re asking whether I have a beau, I do.” Not that she wanted to marry Grover, but she’d resolved to do what she needed to do for the children. “And if you’re insinuating he’d get himself shot, he wouldn’t.”
In the edge of her vision, Opal saw Charlie’s eyes cut to her, saw the tiny quirk of his lips. Was he laughing at her?
“I spend some time helping at an orphanage back in Omaha. I’ve had to play doctor a few times when some of the boys have gotten into scrapes.” Opal briefly thought of the last time, when Johnny and Ellery had been in a fistfight. “There aren’t always medical supplies available, unfortunately.”
He turned his head and looked her full in the face, his brown eyes raking her face. “That’s awfully good-hearted of you.”
He couldn’t know how she related to the orphanage children, even though her father was alive. She’d been abandoned to her aunt’s care at age six, and felt her father’s absence keenly since then. Like many of the children, she wondered what she’d done to make her father send her away. And not to want her back. This trip was her opportunity to find out if he had any regrets.
In the beginning, she’d prayed long and fervently for her father to write and ask her to return, but as the years went by, Opal begun to realize God wasn’t listening.
But she would never share her thoughts with Charlie. He was loyal to her father and besides, he most likely wouldn’t understand. She finished patching his wound in silence and tied it off with a mostly-clean bandana.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have a scar.”
“Just one of many.” Charlie pointed to a jagged white line near his mouth. “My poor ma, God rest her soul, doctored my brother and me so many times I think she gave up on keeping our handsome mugs intact.”
His smile drew her eyes and she traced the faint scar with her fingertip. “It’s very faint…”
Her eyes flicked up to meet Charlie’s intense gaze. Abruptly, she realized how close they were and that she was touching his face. If she leaned a bit closer, their lips would meet… Charlie’s chin dipped and Opal panicked, scrambling backward.
Her feet got caught in her skirt and she landed hard on her rump.
Charlie’s lips twitched. Laughing at her again? What must he think of her? “You all right?”
“Fine,” she snapped, untangling her skirt and standing to move to the opposite side of the campfire.
Had she really thought Charlie was safe? The way her pulse raced and her heart galloped indicated he was anything but safe.
Thankfully, he looked away and shrugged back in
to his shirt, giving her a moment to compose herself.
Not long enough.
“You want to sneak off and change out of your dress?” He indicated the dark stain across the front of her gown. “I’ll fetch your satchel for you.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said quickly. There weren’t any other dresses in her satchel, for one thing. “I’ll be fine until we reach Father’s ranch tomorrow.”
Her dress might be fine, but would she? What was she supposed to say when she saw her father again after all this time?
~~~~
Chapter Three
The sun was just starting its afternoon descent when they reached the Circle B. Riding into the yard between barn and house with Opal behind him felt much different than Charlie had thought it would.
He felt different.
Waking up on the hard, cold ground, he’d thought she would complain. But she’d simply helped them fold the bedrolls and eaten the hardtack he’d given to her without a word.
He liked Opal. Really liked her. Liked the way she’d bossed him and the boys around. When she’d touched his shoulder—for those moments she’d been close enough to kiss—his gut had tightened into a hard little knot. He’d wanted to kiss her.
Yes, he liked her. Too much.
The feelings she’d resurrected in him felt too similar to what he’d experienced when he’d courted Edith all those years ago. Made him remember those lost dreams of having a wife and giving his nephew Carl some young cousins to play with…
But Charlie needed to keep his focus.
Frank had been making noises about Charlie taking on a partnership in the Circle B, but so far Charlie hadn’t pushed the issue. Now the boss’s daughter had his head spinning in circles, thinking things he shouldn’t be thinking.
One thing he knew, even if he did decide to find a wife, it wouldn’t be someone like Opal Bright.
When she left, after she realized there was no extra cash to be had, he could go back to his regular, solitary existence. He just needed to keep his head on straight until then. He was happy with the way things were. Wasn’t he?
“We made it,” he said softly as they neared the house. “Your Pa’ll be happy to see you.”
Her breath puffed hot on the back of his neck. He thought she’d whispered something, but couldn’t be sure what.
Just then, Frank stepped out on the wide plank porch spread across the back of the house, a crutch underneath one arm.
Opal’s hands clenched on Charlie’s midsection. He pulled up the horse near the porch and hopped off, then reached for his passenger.
Her hands trembled on his chest as her feet touched the ground.
“What happened? Opal, are you hurt?”
Frank was off the porch, reaching for his daughter, limp barely noticeable in his hurry to get to his offspring. He must’ve noticed the rust-colored stain across the front of her dress.
Opal avoided Frank’s embrace but allowed him to take her hands.
Charlie watched the older man’s face pinch.
“I’m fine, Father,” she said stiffly. “Charlie was hurt, not me.”
Frank’s gaze jumped to his foreman. “What? You ran into trouble? You’d better git in here and explain.”
“You mind if I wash a little of this trail dust off first?”
“Land sakes,” Gertie, Frank’s housekeeper, called out, stepping out onto the porch. “Let the youngsters catch their breath before you start interrogating them, you old coot. Miss Opal, I’m sure you want to change into a clean dress.”
“I’m afraid I’ll need to borrow something to wear,” Opal said quietly, shooting an inscrutable glance at Charlie as she passed by.
“Miss Opal, here’s your… erm… hatbox.” Erick rushed forward and pushed a yowling, spitting box into Opal’s hands.
She snatched it and held it close to her midsection, and started murmuring to the animal inside while joining Gertie on the porch.
“Come along, dearie. Let’s get you settled.” Gertie took charge of Opal, leading her inside.
Frank gave Charlie the same look his daughter had and ordered, “Git washed up and meet me in the study.”
A short time later, Charlie gave his report to a frowning Frank.
The lines on Frank’s face grew deeper as Charlie described Opal’s proclamation in town and the resulting mayhem.
“I don’t know what’s happened to my little girl. Her letters have grown increasingly demanding—”
At that moment, Opal entered the study.
Rather, it appeared she was shoved from behind and the door snapped closed behind her. Probably Gertie’s doing.
Her flushed cheeks and the way her lips pinched made it clear she’d heard Frank’s words. Charlie quelled a strange urge to defend her. Somehow between meeting her at the train yesterday and her ministrations last night, her selfishness didn’t seem as pronounced. But it wasn’t his place to interfere. She was Frank’s daughter.
“Opal,” Frank greeted her. “Was the room to your liking? It has a good view of the mountains, especially in the mornings.”
“It’s fine.” She glanced at Charlie as she moved to the sofa. “How is your shoulder?”
“Mighty fine, Miss.” Ached a little, but that was expected.
She settled on the sofa, smoothing the skirt of a dress she must’ve borrowed from Gertie. The sprigged calico was much simpler than her traveling dress had been, but it suited her.
“What happened to your luggage?” Frank asked.
Opal glanced Charlie’s way again, only for a second. “Perhaps we could have some privacy to discuss family issues?”
Charlie started for the door, but froze at Frank’s, “Hold on.”
Frank’s gaze stayed on Opal. “Charlie’s like a son to me. He runs most things around here. He’s going to be my partner soon. I’d like him to stay.”
Charlie watched Opal’s lips thin at her father’s words, but her rail-straight back didn’t slump. Her attitude since Charlie had met her made it obvious she still held some resentment for being sent away to her aunt. Charlie couldn’t tell if Frank referring to him as a son made Opal feel worse. He didn’t like thinking it did.
“I didn’t pack any more gowns because I do not plan to stay for long.”
Frank’s face blanched, but Opal went on, “To be perfectly honest, I don’t own any other fine gowns.” She spoke coolly, as if the words meant nothing to her, but Charlie saw the clenched hands in her lap.
“Your aunt’s last letter said she’d ordered a bunch to be made for you. What happened to them?”
“I sold them.”
Charlie let an inadvertent whistle through his teeth. He could see Opal’s words had stunned Frank.
“I have no need of all those fine gowns, when a few serviceable dresses will do.”
To her credit, Opal didn’t act ashamed of her actions. Her pert chin was raised and her eyes flashed fire.
Frank’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “Might I ask what you’ve done with the money from the gowns-and the stipend-I’ve sent?”
“It’s gone to a very good cause. Although Aunt Jennie and I don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on it—”
“Your aunt is supposed to be guiding you and she lets you do this—”
Charlie started to interrupt, but a cry rang out and the door burst open.
“Pa!”
A small figure rushed into the room and threw himself at Charlie, who’d had enough practice to catch the towheaded boy.
“Carl. I’ve only been gone three days.” Charlie ruffled the boy’s hair, love and desperation to do right by the boy welling inside him like it always did.
“I missed you, though!”
“I missed you, too. Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Frank’s daughter, Miss Opal.”
Charlie turned the boy bodily toward the sofa and Opal, who’d gone white.
“You’re pretty, Miss Opal. My name’s Carl.”
Opal took his nephew’s outstretch
ed hand and said thickly, “Thank you.” She scooted off the sofa and made toward the door. “I’m-sorry. I need to be excused.”
“I’m starved!” Carl exclaimed, oblivious to the tension in the room as only a boy could be. “I’m goin’ to see if Gertie needs help setting the table.” He disappeared after Opal.
“You sure that’s how you wanted that to go?” Charlie asked, eyeing his mentor and friend.
Frank sank down into the chair behind his desk, rubbing his injured thigh. “I was hoping for more of a reconciliation. Maybe, after all this time, it’s too much to ask. I don’t know my own daughter any more.”
Charlie remembered the open way Opal had shared about the orphanage last night. Something told him she did want more than money from her father, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“Maybe she’s still upset from last night.” Charlie tried to appease his boss. “She’ll probably come around in a couple of days.”
“If she’ll stay that long.” Frank sighed. “Her aunt’s letters say Opal’s not goin’ to parties and doin’ other things with other gals like she should be. Jennie doesn’t know where she disappears to.”
Charlie could guess, but wasn’t sure it was his place to tell about Opal’s involvement with the orphanage that seemed to mean so much to her.
On the other hand, he’d never seen Frank so defeated. Then the older man seemed to find his resolve and looked back up, piercing Charlie with his gaze. “I need you to find a way to keep her on the Circle B. Make her want to stay. No matter what it takes.”
Charlie choked on the breath he was drawing. How could he keep his distance from his boss’s intriguing daughter and make Frank happy?
But how could he deny Frank anything when his boss had given him a chance and changed Charlie’s life?
After supper, Charlie found Opal on the swing under the big oak tree behind the house. The sun hovered just above the horizon, turning the sky a vibrant, deep blue with purple edges.
HOG for amz Page 2
