The Last Cahill Cowboy

by Jenna Kernan

  Ellie gave him an appreciative smile.

  “I see. Well, Mr. Cahill, my husband is permitting you to stay in our grand hotel, on credit, I might add, but let me be blunt. Are you planning on staying long in town?”

  “Not long.”

  A tiny line formed between Ellie’s brows. Would she be sorry to see him go?

  “Are you planning to rejoin your elder brother on the 4C?”

  Chance’s expression turned stormy and the corner of his mouth ticked.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Then I will remind you that your stay does not include access to my only daughter. I do not want you seen in public escorting her and I most definitely don’t want to find you hiding in shadowy corners again. Do you understand me?”

  Ellie wasn’t sure when this fine private room had become a shadowy corner, but she gripped the chair back, her fingers sinking deep into the upholstery and padding. She had a mind to tell her mother that she would not be bossed like a schoolgirl.

  “And you, young lady, know better. Do you think this wild buck is interested in your charm or your pretty face?”

  Ellie’s chin sank to her chest as the comment sliced into her, taking all the air from her lungs. Chance was on his feet now. He ignored her mother and spoke to her.

  “Say the word and I’ll take you out of here.” His voice was quiet, but there was steel in his tone.

  “And take her where?” asked Minnie. “To your sister’s house of ill repute? Wouldn’t that be fine?”

  Ellie thought of how Leanna Cahill had thrown caution to the wind when she left her home and it had cost her dearly. Ellie was not nearly as outgoing, resourceful or adventurous as Leanna. If she walked out, where would she go?

  “Annie runs a clean establishment,” said Chance, his stance still relaxed, even if his jaw was not.

  “I know what it is. Gambling, women and liquor.”

  “Ellie?” said Chance, making his offer again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ellie met his gaze, seeing pity and compassion all bundled together in those blue eyes, and for one instant she actually considered going with him. But Chance wasn’t offering to take charge of her, only to get her clear of her mother. Ellie looked away and gave her head a little shake.

  Her mother made a purring sound of triumph. “I’ve raised her better than all that, Mr. Cahill.” She turned to her daughter. “The fresh produce is being delivered. Go see to it.”

  Ellie folded her hands before her and slunk from the room, feeling a yellow streak forming down her back.

  She hated how she felt, stupid and worthless and wrong. But if she really wanted to leave her parents’ house with dignity, then she needed to guard her reputation. Didn’t she? Running off with Chance Cahill would destroy all chance of respectability. If she wasn’t a proper woman from a good family, then what was she?

  She felt pulled in two directions at once. Half of her wanted to be rebellious and independent and the other half always did what was expected. Both her parents wanted what was best for her. She knew this, but sometimes it was hard.

  Ellie walked to the office and collected the correct ledger and a sharpened pencil. Then she made for the kitchen to take inventory of the arriving foodstuffs, as she always did.

  She stood upon the back porch, protected from the harsh sun by the private balconies that faced the train tracks. The noon train had brought another bounty from California. A familiar voice interrupted her figuring.

  “Where would you like the tomatoes?” It was Chance, holding a crate on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.

  Her delight was immediately stifled by her good sense. “Didn’t you hear a word she said?” she whispered.

  “I heard. I want to hear it from you. Plus you said you’d be willing to help. Like to take you up on it. But I don’t feel right unless you know what you’re getting into. So I need to explain a few things.”

  She glanced behind her. “Well, we can’t speak here.”

  “Why’d you let her run you off?”

  Ellie felt peeved at his clear disappointment. It seemed she was a disappointment to everyone.

  “Because I don’t have your sister’s courage, or my mother’s charm or your audacity.”

  Chance’s eyes widened at that. Clearly, he’d expected sugar instead of vinegar. Ellie felt instantly remorseful.

  “Thank you for sticking up for me. And for your offer.”

  “It still stands.”

  “Where would you take me, exactly?”

  His grin was pure temptation. “Anywhere you like.”

  She rolled her eyes. “If only it were that simple.”

  “It is. You just set down that ledger and walk off the porch. Annie did it.”

  Ellie’s spine stiffened at that. “And she was ruined as a result. Do you have the slightest idea of the scandal she caused or the way folks treat her?” Ellie clutched her ledger and shivered. “I’d never survive it.”

  “Guess she had her reasons. But she didn’t let anyone tell her what to do. What about Merritt? She’s on her own.”

  “She’s a widow, a completely different situation, plus she’s engaged to Bowie. She won’t be on her own for very long.”

  “I don’t like how they treat you.”

  “They put the clothes on my back and the roof over my head. I’m grateful to them for everything they have given me.”

  “I wouldn’t take orders like that.”

  “That’s very easy for you, Chance Cahill. You have a horse and can just disappear like a summer breeze. Or you can come and go where you like and when you like. A lady can’t be seen in certain parts of town or with certain people. She has to guard her reputation or suffer the consequences.”

  “Looks like you’ve guarded it a little too well.”

  That jibe hit. She felt tears threatening and her throat burned like fire.

  “Don’t you presume to judge me, Chance Cahill! You know nothing of my life. A woman goes from her father’s keeping to her husband’s. Had I intended to marry before now? Yes, of course. But I have been unsuccessful in finding a suitable match and I don’t need you to point out the fact, too.”

  “You’re stronger than you think, Ellie. Best way to get what you want is to take it.”

  “If only it were that simple. But I fear I’ll never find a man who can see me for who I am.” She glared at him, eyes sparkling bright and lips pressed white with her ire. “Go ahead and laugh.”

  He didn’t. He thumped the crate on the step.

  “I see you, Ellie. And you’re prettier than any girl in this town and a damn sight better looking than your peacock of a mother.”

  Ellie was so shocked she couldn’t speak. No one had ever said she was prettier than her mother. Her mother was a great beauty. The belle of Atlanta for three seasons in a row.

  “And you’re smart and you’re caring, and I’ve seen you take a stand when it comes to another person’s trouble. You protected that woman yesterday and Annie told me you spoke to her in public when the rest of the town would have nothing to do with her.”

  That was true and both times her actions had cost her dearly. But she’d do it again.

  She wanted to ask him if he really thought she was pretty. Instead, she hugged her ledger as if it were her only friend.

  “Where can I meet you so that we can talk about my parents?” he asked.

  “I have choir practice tomorrow evening at seven. I could meet you afterward.”

  Chance scowled. “You know it hurts my reputation to be seen in certain parts of town, too.”

  Ellie smiled.

  He sighed. “Which church?”

  Chance spent the afternoon poking around town, first speaking to any transplants he recognized from Wolf Grove and then to those who tended to know things, like undertakers, barbers and the clerks at the general store. He heard about old squabbles and much about his parents, but nothing that he recognized could help him.

  At dusk he head
ed over to Leanna’s home still thinking of what Ellie had told him about why she stayed. Ellie was a very conventional woman and probably knew best. He reminded himself that not all women were prone to spit in the devil’s eye, like his sister. Ellie was too smart to run off with a reckless, irresponsible man like him. Plus she’d been in that hotel room yesterday and knew things about him even Leanna did not. Had called him to task on it, too. He smiled, recalling their first encounter. That showed sand. Still, he didn’t like being told what to do. It often caused him to do it, anyway, just to be contrary. But he didn’t want to cause Ellie trouble. He hoped that Ellie did find a suitable match, as she called it, and that the man recognized what a prize she was.

  He wondered why Quin hadn’t jumped at the chance to marry her. He sure missed the track, because Ellie would be the perfect rancher’s wife. She was smart as a whip. Look at how she managed that restaurant and the kitchen and all the staff. Her parents didn’t know how good they had it. Probably wouldn’t know until she left the hotel. Why, they’d need to hire three people to replace her and they’d have to pay them, instead of getting the work for free.

  Ellie had considered Bowie, as well. It burned Chance that he was always the last choice, the afterthought. Not that he was a choice at all or that he wanted a wife—no, thank you. But he didn’t like being counted out of the contest before he’d even thrown his hat in the ring.

  He was a dark horse and he liked it that way. He felt sorry for any woman who tried to rope him. Ellie was right. He had a fine horse and he could ride off on it anytime he pleased.

  Or he could after he finished his business here.

  Right now he had supper waiting.

  Chance headed past the Royale toward Leanna’s Place, feeling the unexplainable urge to stop in and see Ellie. She’d be there in the restaurant with a warm smile. He even made it halfway to the hotel before he recalled he’d decided to keep clear of her for both their sakes. He’d have to wait until tomorrow night to see her. He noticed the tug that thought caused in his guts, but he didn’t understand it. Must be hungry, he decided.

  He made it to Leanna’s Place before realizing that he was expected at her home and had to turn around and pass the Royale again, craning his neck for a glimpse of Ellie, but he was disappointed again.

  Leanna’s home was in the residential part of town between the tracks and the river. He reached her door a few minutes later. The windows of Leanna’s small clapboard house glowed a welcome against the darkness. It wasn’t until after he rang the bell that he realized that it was very likely that Bowie had told Leanna about his breakfast appearance at the Morning Glory. His hunger must have addled his brain.

  He was off the steps and hustling down the street when Leanna’s voice stopped him.

  “Chance, you coward, you get back here.”

  Yup. Bowie had told her.

  Chance paused, wishing he had used more sense. But he knew when he’d been caught, so he retraced his steps, standing before her, hat in hand, waiting for her to rip into him like an eagle on a fish.

  Leanna pressed her lips tight as her brows sank low over her pale eyes.

  “What possible reason could you have to use Ellie like that?”

  He tapped his hat against his holster, but decided silence was his best defense.

  “Chance, if you hurt her, I’ll castrate you like a bull.”

  He winced.

  “What’s castrate?” This voice came from behind Leanna’s skirts. It was the freckle-faced boy from the saloon holding the wide leather collar of that huge dog. What was the boy’s name again—Marvin, Milton?

  “Never mind, Melvin. Go back to the table.”

  Melvin, that was it.

  “Something sure smells good,” said Chance, giving his sister a hopeful look.

  Her frown seemed engraved on her face. At last she made a sweeping motion with the hand towel she held and Chance scooted past her.

  “Wipe your feet.”

  “Yes, Ma,” he joked, and then came up short.

  His grin fell, her scowl faded.

  The boy lost hold of his charge and the huge shaggy mutt barreled into Chance, buckling his knee and nearly taking him down.

  “Melvin, get Stretch,” said Leanna.

  Melvin wrapped both arms about the dog’s neck and the beast continued to sniff Chance as if he were dinner.

  “Can Chance sit by me? Can he, Miss Leanna? Please!”

  Leanna nodded and Melvin clasped Chance’s hand. Chance blinked at the boy and then looked to Leanna for direction.

  “Well, go on,” she said.

  Escorted by both boy and dog, Chance made his way to the dining room. Cleve stood as he came in and Chance hesitated.

  “Chance, you remember Cleve…my husband?” said Leanna, letting her words vibrate with irritation.

  “Sure do.” Chance offered his hand. Cleve took it and gave him a rueful smile.

  “Welcome to our home, sir.” He motioned to an empty chair. “Please join us.”

  Chance looked at the bounty before them upon the table—butternut squash, fried potatoes, stewed tomatoes and a three-bean salad, along with a lovely rare cut of roast beef. His mouth began to water. His sister never liked the kitchen and so Chance could not fathom how she managed all this. He met her eye and she lifted a brow as if just daring him to ask the question on his mind. Then she walked to the kitchen door and poked her head in and answered his question.

  “Dorothy, my brother has finally graced us with his presence.”

  He ignored the sarcasm as Dorothy hustled in with a place setting and napkin, plunking them down with enough force to let Chance know what she thought of him. He stuffed the end of the offered napkin into the front of his shirt and then accepted every dish passed his way. Leanna made an attempt at feeding the infant, who thwarted her every move by grabbing anything sent toward his mouth like a stage robber. Melvin kept Chance busy answering questions about bounty hunting until Leanna sent him off to wash his face and hands. He protested but was lured to the kitchen for lemon meringue pie. The dog trailed Melvin like a monstrous shadow. Leanna followed, carrying a very sticky baby at her hip.

  Chance frowned.

  “Your sister is a good mama,” said Cleve.

  Chance had to agree. Leanna had grown up. She had become a responsible, brave and protective woman. Their mom would have been proud. Chance squeezed his fists beneath the table as he recognized that his mother was not here to see Leanna or enjoy her adopted children.

  His sister returned alone, carrying two slices of pie.

  “None for you?” asked Cleve, his dark brows lifted in concern.

  She gave him a smile and a tiny shake of her head. Cleve continued to stare, but Leanna gave him a brilliant smile. Chance hoped Leanna wasn’t trying to lose weight. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Leanna eat during dinner. Had she had her meal earlier?

  “You should have some,” said Chance. “You are skinny as a picket fence post already.”

  Leanna ignored the comment and sat beside Cleve. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Leanna flushed, then turned to Chance.

  “Melvin idolizes you, you know? I’ve seen him practicing his draw and shoot technique with an imaginary gun.”

  That didn’t sit right. Chance lowered his forkful of pie.

  “Nothing glamorous about killing thieves and murderers.”

  “You’re not an eight-year-old boy.”

  But he had been and he’d done just the same. He hoped Melvin would be wiser than he had been, but he doubted it. Each man he’d killed had taken a piece of his soul until he wasn’t sure he had one left. Now he felt changed by it all, damaged in some vital way.

  Cleve noted the heavy silence and took over the conversation. He had a gift, Chance recognized, an easy charm and appeal that shone about him like a lantern’s glow, falling on everyone in the room. Even the sour-faced cook seemed to like him and Chance was fairly certain she didn’t like anyone.


  From the kitchen came the cry of a baby. Chance had forgotten about him. Leanna stood, but Cleve was already on his feet.

  “I’ll take him. Give you two an opportunity to…reminisce.”

  Chance was suspicious that he’d just been thrown to the wolves. But it wasn’t so. Leanna didn’t say a word.

  “Saw Ned Womack yesterday. Told him I was planning on selling my share of the 4C. Tomorrow I’m riding out to Burnett’s spread and Fitzgerald’s. Plan to tell them the same thing.”

  “Are you?”

  Chance gave her an incredulous look.

  “Well, then, you can tell Burnett the truth. He’s related to Addie K. through his wife, Rosa, her cousin. And he wasn’t even in the area when Mama and Papa died.”

  “If you trust him, I’ll ask him for his help. Annie, I told Womack that I was ashamed of you and I’ll do the same with Fitzgerald.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Are you?”

  He shook his head. “Never been prouder of anyone in my life.”

  Her eyes turned watery. Cleve returned and Chance made his excuses. If he was going to perpetuate the appearance of a rift between them he needed to keep his distance.

  She stood beside her husband on the threshold of the house they had made into a home. Chance paused to look back at the golden light pouring out the dining-room window. Leanna had a family of her own. Why did that make him so gloomy?

  Chapter Twelve

  Chance rode out to Burnett’s place and met his new wife, Rosa, a blonde beauty with a New England accent. Burnett, a retired Texas Ranger, had purchased the horse ranch a few years back and Rosa ran a boutique alongside the prosperous new establishments beside the tracks. Burnett hadn’t had any of the trouble with cut fences, brush fires or rustling that had occurred on the other three spreads.

  He might have accredited the earlier attacks to rustlers if not for the fact that Bowie told him that Quin and his wife had discovered spies within their employees. The punchers were now in jail for committing the acts on Hobbs’s orders. But who had sent Hobbs his?