“Don’t worry about it,” Brett said. “I can handle it.”
Ray snorted. “With a half-starved boy and a washed-up gunslinger?”
For some reason, Ray disparaging Kincaid and Mason annoyed the hell out of Brett.
“Those are my friends.”
Ray inclined his head. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“I know you didn’t.”
They set the boards down next to a hammering Ethan and Jack and went back for more.
“With you smack dab in the middle of the boys, I always thought you needed a little extra.” Ray grabbed one end of a stack of lumber.
Brett put his hands on his hips and frowned. “What do you mean ‘extra’?”
“Are you picking up the wood or are you going to stand there and jaw?”
With a disgusted sigh, Brett picked up the other end of the boards.
“Extra meaning not being the oldest, not the youngest, sort of got forgotten in the shuffle. I never worried about Trevor and Logan—the youngest boys always get the most attention. Jack kept everyone in stitches. Me and Ethan, well, we sort of wrote the book on how to get attention, usually the bad way. But you?” Ray stared off into the distance for a moment as if contemplating his words. “You always seemed a step to the right from the rest of us. I thought maybe you’d outgrow it but you didn’t. As if you felt like we excluded you, which isn’t true. Not intentionally anyway.”
They set that stack of boards by their father and Tyler, then headed back to the wagon for the last stack.
Brett didn’t know what to think of Ray’s assessment of him. Had he always held himself apart? Was that true?
“But now I’m seeing something different. I hear you’re keeping time with Alex again,” Ray said as he climbed into the wagon. “She’s a good woman, Brett. I never understood why you didn’t marry her.”
“None of your business.” Brett meant that. He didn’t intend to discuss his personal, private need for Alex with Ray.
As they picked up the last stack of wood, Ray looked Brett square in the eye. “I just wanted you to know that we’re all proud of you, doing this on your own, living out here. You’re an independent man and I respect that, but I also want you to know that when you need help, regardless if you ask for it, you’re going to get it. You’re my brother.”
Brett’s throat tightened and he found that words deserted him, so he simply nodded and they walked with the last stack of wood toward Kincaid and Mason.
As the work progressed, the rotten boards were tossed in a pile. The women picked them up and stacked them for firewood on the front porch. The men replaced them and moved on. By the end of the day the entire outside of the barn was completed.
Lily and Melody had left a few hours earlier in a carriage. When they came back, they had a wagon covered with a tarp. They each sported big, wide grins. Ray helped his wife and daughter down, giving them both a smacking kiss. His entire family gathered around the wagon and looked at Brett.
“What?”
Jack walked over to the tarp. “I have something for you.”
Brett’s stomach cramped with the thought of what was under the tarp. He had no idea why he had such a problem accepting gifts, help, or anything from anyone. Made him feel like he truly wasn’t meant to be part of the Malloy family. The one person he now seemed able to accept anything from was Alex.
He stepped over to the wagon. “That’s a mighty big supper you got there.”
Everyone chuckled.
“While it’s true you didn’t want any help from us, you wanted to do this on your own, we wanted to help when we could. So this is a gift from me and Becky to you.” Jack smiled and with a flourish pulled the tarp off the wagon.
Everyone was suddenly silent. Brett gazed at the beautiful furniture he knew his younger brother had made for him. Jack’s special skill was wood. Big, small, didn’t matter what, he had a gift. He’d made a table and four chairs, the makings for at least two beds, and a parson’s bench, along with a bookshelf.
Jack pulled out a bundle wrapped in cloth. He opened it up to reveal a handmade wooden sign. He’d carved “Square One Ranch, Brett Malloy, Owner”.
“I made this to hang in your new home.” Jack handed it to Brett.
Dammit all to hell, Brett felt the prick of tears in his eyes. He hadn’t cried in thirty years, which was saying a lot since he was only thirty-three.
Brett took the sign from Jack and then, shocking the hell out of him and his entire family, pulled his brother into a hug. Suddenly there was hugging everywhere and Brett couldn’t extract himself, so he endured.
He said thank you again as the furniture was unloaded and brought into the house. He pulled Jack aside.
“You made all that for me in the last month?”
“It was Becky’s idea. She’s the one who encouraged me to work with wood instead of cattle. Now that I have my own furniture shop, I have all the equipment I need. I even have two people who work for me. And yes, I made it all for you.” Jack smiled. The youngest of the Malloy siblings, Jack had the gift of being funny, really funny, and the same bright blue eyes as Brett.
From another wagon, his mother pulled out linens and down-filled mattresses to go on the beds. Brett simply didn’t know how to handle so much generosity at once. Fortunately they all seemed to understand and didn’t crowd him again.
Mason had stuck to Brett’s mother’s side like a cocklebur. She invited him over to her ranch to visit any time. The scraggly boy had gained some weight, and had begun to look like a young man. His chest swelled up when Brett’s father complimented him on his hammering skills.
As the afternoon turned into evening, they shared a meal of cold chicken and biscuits Lily and Melody had brought. They joked and laughed and sat on the new chairs and bench. Some sat on the floor, but all were comfortable and relaxed.
When his family finally said good night and walked out the door, with the noise that was trademark Malloy, they all headed off to their own houses.
Kincaid had been noticeably quiet during the meal, then absent soon after, but reappeared to say a polite goodbye to everyone. Ray stayed behind. He’d sent Lily and Melody home in the wagon earlier.
“Let me help you get those beds together.” Ray never asked, it wasn’t his way.
The four of them went inside and made quick work putting the beds together that Jack had crafted. Both beds were in the first bedroom. The second bedroom still held the long narrow bed Brett assumed had belonged to old Martin’s sons. He didn’t know if Parker was the older or younger one. He didn’t want to think about losing his ranch that day, so he pushed the thought aside.
To his surprise, there were linens and a mattress on the bed. Someone had moved Mason’s things into the room.
Mason’s mouth dropped open. “Is this for me?”
Brett glanced at Ray and they both shook their heads. “Mama.”
“My mother has a way of doing what she thinks is right no matter what anyone else thinks. She must not have thought you sleeping in the barn was a good idea. Why don’t you go wash up, kiddo, so you can try out your new room.”
Brett would have thought he’d offered the boy a million dollars. The young face lit at the simple gesture of having his own room, a bed. His expression was full of awe and hope and what Brett suspected was disbelief.
Kincaid nodded to Ray, then turned to Brett. “I’m going to go settle the horses in the barn.” Then he was gone.
“That should be all of it.” One of Ray’s eyebrows quirked.
“All of what?”
“All of the family’s interference. I can come back tomorrow and work on the inside of the barn with you.”
Brett forced himself to say thanks, not an easy task. “I really appreciate everything.”
“I know and I know how hard it is for you to say that, and accept it.” Ray clapped him on the shoulder. “Some days I think Mama picked you up in a cabbage patch.”
“Some days
I think you’re right. Too bad I look just like Pa.” Brett grinned.
“You be careful, Brett.” Ray’s face had the mask of seriousness that was his standard. “In two days a bunch of us are headed to Cheyenne to visit with Trevor and his lady.”
That was news to Brett. He definitely wasn’t expecting it. “Did he invite you?”
“He invited all of us. I know you’ve been busy here working hard on your ranch, but I wanted to make sure you knew you were invited. We’re only going for the day.”
Brett shook his head. “No, I’ll stay here.”
“Suit yourself. Good night then.”
After Ray left, Brett stood alone in the house, gazing at the new furniture. The scent of fresh cedar and oak filled the room. If nothing else, this reminded Brett he wasn’t alone in the world, that his family loved him, and it made life worth living.
A thought niggled at the back of his mind and try as he might, he couldn’t dislodge it. Alex. The one person he’d like to share the moment with wasn’t there.
———
In the morning, he couldn’t wait any longer. Brett got up before the sun and headed to town. The humid air weighed down on his skin and he felt rivulets of sweat slide down his back. He barely noticed. His focus was on getting to Alex. He had to see her, to make her believe he wanted to marry her.
Her reaction to his marriage proposal alarmed him. Brett had no idea how much the pain was still embedded in her from so long ago. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her again, but he was determined she’d be his wife. Come hell or high water.
When he got to the clinic, he found old doc Brighton alone reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee. Brett stepped into the room, disappointment warring with discomfort over seeing the older man again.
“Mornin’, Byron.”
Doctor Brighton looked up from the paper, and his gaze scanned Brett with something like distrust, which surprised him. Unless the doctor knew what he and Alex had been up to.
“What are you doing here, Brett?”
“I came by to see Alex. Is she here?” He fiddled with his hat, feeling like the young man who had shaken in his boots at the thought of facing his lover’s father.
“No, she had to go out and see a patient.”
“Do you know when she’ll be back?”
Byron set the paper down and scowled. “Are you keeping time with my daughter again?”
Brett opened his mouth then closed it. “I’m not sure.”
“If you hurt her, you’ll have me to answer to. I might be old but I can still kick your ass.”
Brett was hurt by the implication. “Hurt her? I’m not planning on doing anything but marry her.”
“Marry her? Why the hell would she marry you? You’ve got nothing for her.” Byron snorted. “Except a run-down ranch with no cattle.”
“I’m picking up my cattle tomorrow and the ranch will make a profit. I guarantee it.” He was more than determined that his dreams would come true, regardless of what anyone else thought. Byron’s reaction knocked him a bit sideways—the doctor had never been anything but polite.
“If she tells you no, you walk away.” The newspaper shook in Byron’s hands.
Brett knew he had to tread lightly or risk his entire future because Alex’s father disapproved.
“Sometimes the heart does the speaking for the head. If Alex really doesn’t want to marry me, I’ll let her go. I’m kinda hoping she will though.” He plunked his hat on his head. “Could you tell her I stopped by?”
Byron glared at him until Brett nodded and left the room. The thick morning air did nothing to alleviate the bad feelings churning up inside him. What if the older man did something to ruin his chances with Alex? He wouldn’t do that, would he?
———
The crickets sang their nightly lullaby in the sweet warm air. It had to be close to midnight. Alex sat on the front porch staring off into the starry sky, thinking of Brett. It had been almost a week since she’d seen him. Her body craved not just his touch, but his wry sense of humor, the rare smile and his solid presence beside her.
Ug lay on the porch next to her, his snout hanging over the edge of the first step. She reached down to scratch him behind the ears and he woofed softly.
“At least I know you won’t leave me, will you, Ug?”
He woofed again as if he understood her. One good thing about a dog, they were loyal. She didn’t have to worry about what he was thinking or feeling. His tail and tongue told her all she needed to know.
“Alex?” Her father opened the screened door and poked his head out. “What are you doing out here so late?”
He’d promised Alex he’d stop drinking and he hadn’t a drop since that awful day when Brett had to help her with her father. It had been a really rough time for him, for both of them. Times of craving and misery, and sleepless nights. Alex tried to assist as best she could, but it was a personal battle her father had to fight on his own.
“Just relaxing, Papa. Are you going to come out and join me?”
He looked left then right before stepping out. In his day, Dr. Brighton had been an extremely handsome man. Blond-headed like Alex, with dark brown eyes, an easy smile and broad shoulders. He’d been quite the catch.
Now his blond hair was mostly gray, and reflected the need for a good brushing and likely a good washing. He wore a robe, a nightshirt and a pair of slippers, and in his hands he clutched a pipe. It had been the last Christmas gift he’d received from his wife. Since he’d given up drinking, the pipe had been a constant companion.
He shuffled over and sat beside Ug on the porch step. Alex figured the dog had filled a void in her father’s life since he’d been sober. She knew Ug was a smart dog; she was convinced he was also a compassionate one that understood when humans were in need or in pain.
Her father petted the dog’s mismatched fur. Alex swore she heard the dog sigh in contentment.
“Pretty night,” her father said.
“Yes, it sure is.”
“We’re due for some rain soon I think. My knees have been bothering me the last couple of days.”
Alex murmured an appropriate response, unable to be drawn into simple conversation. Her mind and heart were so tangled up, small talk seemed impossible. Not a good thing for a doctor whose patient rapport pretty much depended on her ability to talk.
“Is this about Brett Malloy?”
Alex started as if he’d pinched her. “Excuse me?”
“I might be a drunk, but I know he’s been in the house and I know you’ve been mooning over him since you were just a young girl.”
“I-I, that is…” Her cheeks heated as she stumbled over her words. She was glad for the cover of darkness so her father couldn’t see her. It was one thing to seduce a man, it was another thing if her father knew about it. “Yes, he’s been around. He was injured, um, out at his new ranch a few weeks ago. So he’s been in for treatment.”
“Uh-huh, you keep sticking to that story, sweetheart. It appears to me you’ve been spending an awful lot of time by yourself, thinking.”
Alex sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I have been thinking a lot about him. You’re right.”
“What are you going to do about him?” Her father was like a dog with a bone.
She playfully smacked his arm. “You’re awfully pushy tonight, Papa. I’ve loved Brett all my life, even though I wanted to hate him since he, well, since we were together years ago. But now, I’m beginning to doubt myself.”
Her father lit his pipe, the glow of the match bright in the darkness around them. “How so?”
“I don’t know if I can explain it, but I feel adrift. Like I lost my rudder somewhere and I can’t seem to steer straight.” Alex didn’t know up from down anymore. Loving Brett Malloy had always been a difficult proposition. After her last encounter with Brett, he hadn’t come to see her once, perhaps because she’d slapped him after he asked her to marry him. Had she made a mistake?
“Be sure you know what you’re doing, honey. He hasn’t got much to offer you.”
Brett didn’t have anything to offer her but himself, and when he had, she’d thrown it in his face. Her hurt and anger had overwhelmed the love that still beat for Brett inside her. It was time she and Brett had a long, honest talk. The next time she saw him, she’d tell him exactly how she felt.
“Thank you, Papa. You’ve been very helpful, as always.”
She leaned over and kissed his whiskered cheek, glad the only scent surrounding him was the smell of tobacco.
“You’re welcome.”
They sat on the porch for a while longer, enjoying each other’s company, the companionship of Ug and the symphony the night creatures played for them.
When Alex headed upstairs for bed, butterflies danced in her stomach. She had a feeling her life was about to take an unexpected turn.
———
The dew still coated the grass as Brett and Kincaid rode over to Casey’s ranch to pick up the herd. Nothing compared to the thought of having his own cattle on his ranch. It felt amazing. In fact, Brett almost felt a smile playing around his lips at the thought. Kincaid must have seen it.
“Don’t get all mushy on me, Malloy. You’ll ruin your reputation.”
“Shut up, Kincaid.”
Kincaid chuckled as they continued riding. It was a beautiful morning before the heat of the day truly hit. Even some of the stickiness was gone as if Mother Nature knew it was an important day. When they got to the Circle B Ranch, Casey met them on the front porch of the house with a big grin.
“You’re early, Brett.”
Brett tipped his hat back and tried to remain casual. “Well, I figured we could get the work done early and both be onto the rest of the work for the day.”
“Uh-huh. Okay. Let’s get you that cattle.” Casey called two of his men over, Slim and Poke. “They’re gonna help you drive the herd over to your property.”
The four men headed out to Casey’s north pasture to cull the two hundred head from the herd, which wasn’t hard work. They were fat, happy cows and docile steers. Casey had rich grazing land and plenty of it.
Soon they had the small herd together and were driving them toward the Square One. Brett made Kincaid ride drag. Kind of a mean thing to do, but the best way to learn how to drive a herd of cattle was to ride drag. Brett would just offer to heat the water for baths later because he’d surely need to scrape the dirt off.
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