Love Inspired Historical November 2017 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  “She’s quiet around new people,” Heather said. “But she’ll chatter your ear off once she grows accustomed to you.”

  “How old is she?” Dillon asked.

  Grateful he’d taken an interest, she replied, “Gracie will turn two on Christmas Day.” Heather adjusted Gracie’s hat tighter over her ears. “What happened to your leg?”

  “Getting right to the point, are we?” Dillon barked a humorless laugh. “Snake bite. I was chasing a horse thief through the Oklahoma Territory. Dumbest thing in the world. The fellow next to me was shaking out his boot in the morning. There was a snake in the bottom. It fell out and turned. Bit me on the top of my foot before I could blink. My toes were black by the time I made it back to the fort. Doc made the decision to cut it off below the knee. Didn’t ask my opinion.”

  Her heart went out to him. “What else could he have done?”

  “Let the snake venom finish the job.”

  Heather sucked in a breath. “Don’t say that.”

  Sterling slipped his hand around her back and gave a squeeze. “You should have let me know.”

  “What would you have done?”

  “I could have come. You might have died there, alone. You were sick, weren’t you?”

  “It was touch and go, that’s for certain. That old sawbones wasn’t much of a doctor. Wouldn’t have mattered if someone was there or not. Not like you were going to save my leg by making the trip.”

  “You’re my brother.” A muscle worked in Sterling’s jaw. “It would have mattered to me.”

  She glanced at Dillon, and his expression softened. “I wouldn’t have known you were there. I was out of my head for weeks. Maybe it was the venom, maybe it was the shock of losing my leg, but the first few weeks are a blur.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sterling said.

  “For what? It’s not your fault I got bit by a poisonous snake.”

  Sterling cleared his throat, his profile rigid. “I shouldn’t have talked you into joining the cavalry. This wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

  Dillon chortled, a harsh and depressing sound. “You didn’t talk me into anything. I knew what I was doing. I wanted to be a hero. Look where that got me. I’m a cripple.”

  Sterling tensed as though he might say something, and she rested her hand on his knee, willing him into silence. His brother was obviously suffering, and he needed time.

  Dillon jerked his chin. “What about the two of you? You’ve been married six weeks with a two-year-old baby. Even I thought you’d get married long before now.”

  Heather glanced at him sharply. “What do you mean?”

  “Sterling always had a thing for you.”

  “Dillon,” Sterling said, his voice pitched in a warning. “That’s enough.”

  “Ah, you’re married now, right? There shouldn’t be any secrets between the two of you. Otto told me all about how Sterling was carrying a torch for you, Heather. He practically bought my train ticket when I left for the cavalry. Didn’t want the competition. Looks like you won, brother. Although the timing of the kid is a little off. What happened there?”

  Sterling braced his heel against the front board and leaned back on the reins, pulling the horses to a stop. “I’m willing to let some things slide considering what you’ve been through, but you better adjust your attitude toward Heather, or I’ll drop you right here and you can walk home.”

  “You’d leave a cripple in the middle of nowhere? In the winter?”

  “You’re not a cripple, you’re a pain in my behind. Might take you a little longer, but you’ll make it back to town just fine. If you want folks to feel sorry for you, you might try a little sugar instead of vinegar.”

  “I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. Least of all you.”

  “The next time I have to stop this wagon because of your lip, you’re walking.”

  “You’re getting cranky in your old age, little brother. I don’t think marriage agrees with you.”

  “Get out.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” Sterling leaped from his perch and fished the crutches from the back of the wagon. He tossed them onto the ground and motioned. “Get out. Walk back to town.”

  “Half of that ranch belongs to me, which means this wagon is half mine.”

  Heather clutched the seat of the wagon, willing the brothers to cease their fighting. Her pulse thrummed, and she wanted to cover her ears and block out their angry words to each other.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Sterling said. “Pa sold the wagon. He let all the ranch hands go, and he ran the business into the ground. The only thing he left us was the ranch and the house. You’re welcome to half. I happen to know the house lends itself well to separate living quarters. But the wagon is mine. If you want to claim your half of the property, you’ll have to find your own way.”

  “Sterling,” Heather pleaded. “He’s been traveling all day. He’s tired.”

  Dillon swung his good leg over the side of the wagon and made a graceless descent. He reached for his crutches and pitched forward, catching himself with one hand. Heather pressed her fingers over her face and shuddered.

  “Gra!” Gracie declared. “Bye-bye!”

  Heather peered through the crack in her fingers. Gracie opened and closed her fist toward Dillon.

  “Bye-bye,” she called cheerfully. “Bye-bye.”

  Dillon’s shoulders shook, and a grin spread across his face. Heather glanced askance at Sterling and caught him laughing too.

  Gracie clapped her hands. “Bye-bye.”

  Sterling pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get back in.”

  Still chuckling, Dillon tossed his crutches into the back of the wagon and climbed onto the seat once more. Dazed, Heather cast her glance between the two of them. The abrupt change in their moods left her speechless. How could they go from hating each other to laughing in such a short span of time?

  Sterling took his place, and they lumbered over the frozen wagon trails. Heather set her jaw. As they journeyed on in silence, her irritation grew.

  She clenched her teeth. “How can the two of you be arguing one minute and laughing together the next?”

  “We’re brothers,” Dillon said.

  Heather glared at Sterling. “I can’t believe you’d leave your own brother in the middle of nowhere.”

  “It’s not the middle of nowhere. You can still see town. Besides, if he’d frozen, it would’ve been his own fault.”

  The two of them had obviously come to some sort of agreement, but Heather still fumed. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

  She squeezed Gracie tighter, and the child squirmed in protest of the confinement.

  “Ah, don’t be sore at him,” Dillon said. “He’s trying.”

  “About Gracie.” Heather gathered her scattered wits. If this was an example of how the next few weeks might progress, she was going to need all her strength and patience. “Gracie has a rather unusual story.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dillon interrupted. “You don’t have to say anything. I spoke out of turn earlier.”

  “Let her speak,” Sterling ordered.

  Dillon grumbled, but he caught the implacable look on his brother’s face and lapsed into silence. Heather relayed the events that had brought Gracie into their lives, starting with the Wells Fargo delivery and finishing with their decision to get married.

  Dillon chuckled. “That is quite a story. Are you sure you aren’t pulling my leg? The good one, I mean.”

  “That’s what happened,” she said, relieved at his gallows humor. She’d rather have him joking, even if there was a hint of bitterness in his words. Ribbing each other was far better than arguing. “Then last week a reporter came through town asking about Gracie. He thinks she came from Oh
io, and he’s putting stories in all the Ohio papers. Maybe some others too. You didn’t happen to see anything in the newspaper during your travels, did you?”

  He’d come from the southeast, but there was always a chance the story had spread beyond Ohio and Montana. Even she had to admit that a child in the parcels was worth a read.

  “Can’t say that I did,” Dillon replied. “But I haven’t been reading the papers too much lately. Can’t seem to focus these days.” He stared at Gracie. “There’s something familiar about her. You two don’t have any idea where she came from?”

  “It’s probably the red hair,” Heather said. “Everyone thinks she looks like me because of the red hair.”

  “Nah.” Dillon scratched his neck with the backs of his fingertips. “It’s something else. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Mrs. Dawson must have been beside herself.”

  “She was there for the initial excitement,” Heather said diplomatically. There was every chance Mrs. Dawson was the source of the gossip about them.

  Gracie reached for Dillon, and he let her crawl onto his lap. She promptly grasped one of his buttons and tried to bring the circle to her mouth.

  He tugged the button from her grasp. “You don’t know where that’s been, sweetie.”

  “She has to put everything in her mouth,” Heather said.

  The tension between the two brothers had eased, and she focused on the innocuous details in the carriage.

  “Sterling was like that,” Dillon said. “Always putting things in his mouth.”

  “Hey,” Sterling admonished from beside her. “No stories of when we were children.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’ve been saving these stories for when you brought home a girl. I have a whole passel of embarrassing stories.”

  “Don’t forget,” Sterling said. “I have a few of my own. You want to be careful.”

  The rest of the ride passed quickly. The brothers had come to a sort of truce, and didn’t argue for the rest of the way. Despite the impasse, though, she sensed a tension in Dillon. There were deep lines etched around his mouth and creases in his forehead. Her gaze dropped to the empty space below his knee, and she blinked rapidly thinking about the pain he must have suffered.

  Gracie dozed in his lap, and he adjusted her head against his shoulder. “She’s a cute little thing. You’ve been blessed, Sterling. You’ve got the two prettiest girls in the territory.”

  “That’s the first thing you’ve gotten right today,” Sterling said. “Welcome home, big brother.”

  Heather blushed in spite of herself. They arrived home and Dillon handed over the child with a grimace. “I think she might need attending.”

  As Heather climbed the porch, she glanced over her shoulder. “It’s good to have you home, Dillon.”

  “It’s good to be home,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

  The two brothers needed time together, so she lingered upstairs, the sounds of their deep voices a low rumble in the background.

  She’d known Dillon’s arrival home was going to be fraught with difficulties, but she hadn’t anticipated how fraught.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Does it hurt anymore?” Sterling asked.

  Dillon had insisted on helping unhitch the horse. Uncertain what else to do, Sterling had agreed. Thus far Dillon had swung between acting like an invalid, and berating Sterling for treating him like a cripple. Finding center ground was going to be difficult. And frustrating.

  “Doesn’t hurt as much as it did,” his brother replied. “You know the worst of it? The top of my foot itches. That foot is buried somewhere in the Oklahoma Territory, but it itches like it’s still attached.”

  “That’s something.”

  Though Dillon assured him otherwise, his guilt rankled. What a fool he’d been all those years ago. He’d ruined both Dillon’s and Heather’s futures. Because he’d wanted her for himself. After all this time, he had to admit the truth. He’d been taken with Heather since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. He’d convinced himself that his motives were pure, but he’d actually been lying to everyone. He was a selfish man whose choices had had dire consequences for the people he loved.

  All this time he’d thought he was different from his pa, but they might as well have been the same man, cut from the same cloth.

  They finished hanging the harnesses and settled the horses before returning inside. Dusk was a purple glow on the horizon, and the temperature dropped with the setting sun.

  “I’m sorry,” Dillon said, his face turned. “About what I said earlier. I was surprised to see you with Heather and holding a baby. I wasn’t certain about coming home and so I didn’t react very well.”

  “That’s all right. I probably shouldn’t have threatened to make you walk home.”

  “I deserved that.” Dillon propped his foot on the hearth. They sat in the dining room, the fire glowing before them. “What were you saying about the ranch earlier?”

  “There’s nothing. That’s not even the worst of it.”

  “Leaving us in debt isn’t the worst?” Dillon guffawed. “What’s the bad news, then?”

  “He left us nothing on purpose. He knew he was sick, and he’d been skimming off the books for the past two years.”

  “Two years? Even for Pa, that’s dedication.” Dillon rubbed the knee on his bad leg. “What did he do with the money?”

  “I don’t know. Probably donated it to some charity that named a building in his honor.”

  “I hope so. I’d rather he donated the money. Knowing Pa, he might have buried the cash in a box in the north forty rather than leave anything to the two of us. He always said he’d leave us empty-handed when he died. He was nothing if not true to his word.”

  “There was nothing when I came back. He’d let all the ranch hands go. He owed money at all the stores in town. There were only a few hundred cattle left. I had some money saved, and I paid off what I could. The taxes on the land hadn’t been paid in two years, and I made a deal with the county. I’m still making payments.”

  “You’re joking. I can’t imagine Pa letting things get that bad. He must have been sicker than he let on.”

  “Doc Jones said he had a stroke. Might have affected his thinking.”

  “What does Otto have to say? He was there. Does he know why Pa did what he did?”

  “Otto was doing his best just to keep things afloat. He thinks we should sell out.”

  “Maybe Otto is right.”

  Sterling whipped around. “How can you say that?”

  “What can I do? I’m useless.”

  “Can’t you get a prosthetic leg or something?” Sterling mumbled. He might as well broach the subject now.

  “A peg leg?” Dillon shook his head. “I’m not a pirate.”

  “A lot of men lost limbs during the war. There’s something better than a peg leg available. Remember that fellow who always sat outside the general store? He had a wooden foot.”

  “Not the best example, brother. I’m not a vagrant yet.”

  “I didn’t say that you were.”

  “I don’t know if you heard yourself before, but you and I just inherited a failing ranch. I’m guessing fake feet don’t come cheap.”

  “I have some money saved.”

  “I’m not taking your money.” Dillon snorted. “You have a family to support. Gracie is a cute little thing. She needs that money to keep a roof over her head. I can limp along just fine.”

  Sterling didn’t point out the inconsistencies in his brother’s argument. Once again he was swinging between despair and resignation.

  “We can make this work,” Sterling insisted. “I know we can. I’ve bought sheep.”

  “Sheep?” His brother doubled over in laughter. “Pa is surely rolling in hi
s grave. If you wanted revenge on him, you got it. Pa was a cattleman through and through”

  “I know, I know. This is cattle country. And cattle are what ran Pa out of business. I know we both had our differences with Pa, but he saved this town because he knew when it was time to cut and run. How many ghost towns are scattered over the state because folks only knew how to do one thing? You and Otto can mock my sheep, but cattle prices have dropped and times are different. Sheep are a resource that replaces itself.”

  “All right, all right. Don’t get your back up. You don’t have to convince me. If you think sheep are the answer, I believe you.”

  “I’m not selling. Not until spring at least. I think we can make this work.”

  “Leave me out of it.” Dillon threw up his hands. “I think we should sell. This ranch is full of nothing but ghosts.”

  “Not for me,” Sterling said. “Not anymore.”

  Heather had changed everything.

  “Suit yourself,” Dillon said.

  “What else are you going to do? Do you have some other plans I don’t know about?”

  “I haven’t decided. I only know I can’t be a rancher with one foot. How am I supposed to ride? I can hardly walk. I only came back because I was sick of getting your telegrams. You were starting to sound like Ma. You’re turning into a nag.”

  “A lot has happened.”

  “To both of us.”

  “I need your help,” Sterling said. What had his pride gotten him thus far? It didn’t hurt to show a little humility. “You’re still sorting through all the changes. Take your time adjusting. We’ll fix up a room on the first floor.”

  “I’ll stay in the bunkhouse while I’m here. I don’t want to share a house with newlyweds.”

  Sterling bit back his denial. Dillon was going to discover the truth of their relationship soon enough. “Heather will worry if you don’t stay at the house.”

  “I can’t climb stairs, and I’m not going to stay in the parlor like some invalid. I don’t want people feeling sorry for me or fussing over me.” His brother stood. “I’m going to say hello to Otto.”

  “Supper is at the house. I’ll ring the bell. We lost the cook.”