A Rancher of Convenience

by Regina Scott

  The steer faltered, head twisting from side to side. It must have realized the futility, for it stopped, blowing out a breath. Knowing Belle would stay where he set her, Hank slid from the saddle and retrieved his rope.

  “You head on home,” he advised, backing away.

  The steer turned and ambled toward the herd.

  Hank shook his head as he climbed back into the saddle. A simple task, yet satisfaction rippled through him like a breeze through the trees. He could see Nancy in the distance, watching him. Why did he feel like preening?

  Just then another movement caught his eye. There was something under that copse of oak. Had they lost another steer? Or had one of the other members of the herd moved closer? He peered into the shadows, trying to make out a shape.

  Another rider was watching the Windy Diamond herd. And as Hank started toward him, he wheeled his mount and took off.

  Chapter Ten

  Nancy couldn’t seem to catch her breath. Most of the men in her small Ozark town had walked or driven wagons or buggies. Certainly she’d seen Lucas and her boys on horseback many times. But there was something about the way Hank rode, lean body bent until he and his horse were almost one, swerving among the cattle like a dove skimming the grass. Watching him set her heart to racing along in time.

  And the way he swung that rope. It swirled through the air like a dancer’s skirts, effortless, graceful. She’d wanted to applaud when he’d turned that longhorn.

  But she’d been afraid she’d startle the others.

  So she remained on the wagon bench, head up and neck craned to watch his progress. She wasn’t sure why he and his horse veered into a copse of trees. Had one of the other steers strayed without anyone noticing? Surely, Hank would come out the opposite side any minute, horse trotting and longhorn plodding alongside.

  But though crows shot out of the tree branches, cawing in protest at the intrusion, she caught no sign of Hank.

  Where was he?

  She glanced toward Mr. Upkins, who was patrolling back and forth on the north, then to Billy on the south. Neither seemed particularly concerned they’d lost sight of their leader. Should she be concerned?

  From off in the distance came the bark of a gun.

  Several of the steers flinched. So did Nancy. Mr. Upkins and Billy immediately circled closer to the herd, calling to the cattle, soothing. Nancy wasn’t so easily settled.

  Something was wrong. The surety clawed up inside her, set her hands to trembling on the reins. Surely they should act, ride out, demand answers. But aside from their calming calls, neither of her boys showed the least interest, while she could hardly sit still.

  When Mr. Upkins rode close enough to hail, she called him to her.

  “Mr. Snowden hasn’t returned,” she informed him. “Should someone go looking for him?”

  Mr. Upkins tugged on his hat brim in respect. “The way I see it, ma’am, Hank can take care of himself, and this herd can’t.”

  She glanced out over the cattle, all of which seemed to have gone back to their contented munching. A shame she couldn’t forget that shot.

  “Surely they’ll be fine for a little while,” she told him.

  He pushed back his hat. “If you order me to abandon the herd, ma’am, I’ll do my duty. But I don’t think Hank will be happy for my interference, and I know what Mr. Bennett would have advised me to do.”

  So did she, but she wasn’t Lucas.

  “Open a path for me to those trees,” she ordered him. “I’ll look for Hank, but if I shout for help, I expect you and Billy to come riding. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Clear as daylight, ma’am,” he assured her. Tugging his hat down on his forehead, he turned his horse and cut through the herd, calling to Billy for help. The younger cowboy immediately wheeled his mount and set about parting the cattle. Nancy gathered up the reins and turned the horses toward the widening track.

  Hank says You hear a call for help, Lord. Please, protect us both.

  Confidence she had nearly forgotten flowed through her. As cattle trotted off to either side of the team, she directed the horses toward the trees where Hank had disappeared. The wagon bumped over the uneven ground, rattling her bones, jarring her teeth. If Ben had kicked, she doubted she’d even notice.

  Drawing closer to the trees, she guided the horses under the canopy, ducking her head as oak leaves brushed her sombrero. She pulled the team to a stop, then straightened.

  The area was empty.

  Nancy glanced around, trying to get any sense of what had happened. Nothing much seemed to have been disturbed, but the trampled ground and the indents from iron horseshoes told her at least one horse had recently used the space.

  She knew their horses often ranged free when they weren’t being ridden or driven, but they tended to stay near the barn. It was possible her boys had used the canopy for shade, but not while she’d been with them.

  So who was hiding on her land?

  A breeze darted through the clearing, setting the oak leaves to clattering, but she knew the chill inside her had nothing to do with the cool air. Hank had warned her the rustling might not be over. Here was evidence he was right.

  Evidence that he might be in danger.

  Clucking to the team, she urged them out into the sunshine on the other side of the trees, then reined in once more. The land rippled away from her, the bright green of fresh grass bowing to the breeze. Here and there, limestone poked up, while oak stood proud. In the distance she could see the hills rising. Overhead, a hawk circled.

  The chill refused to leave her.

  “Hank!” she called into the clear air. “Hank Snowden! Where are you?”

  The only answer was the scree of the hawk.

  Everything in her said to go, to ride, to seek him out, to find him and bring him home safe. But she knew she couldn’t go far safely, and she couldn’t chance the wagon and team. The draws and canyons that cut through the land weren’t exactly hospitable to conveyances. She swiveled in the seat, scanned in all directions. She felt as if she were the only person on earth.

  But she knew help lay just behind her.

  Hands tight on the reins, she turned the team and guided them back toward the herd. As soon as Billy was in sight, she waved him over to her.

  “Ride for town,” she told the youth as she pulled the team to a stop beside him. “Tell Sheriff Fuller someone’s starting trouble.”

  Mr. Upkins had ridden over, as well. Now, he put out an arm to stop Billy from hurrying off. “Do we know there’s trouble, ma’am?”

  Why was he so reluctant to help? Didn’t he understand that every moment counted? Hank could be hurt, shot.

  “Of course we know there’s trouble,” she scolded him. “You heard that shot, same as me.”

  Mr. Upkins shrugged, but he lowered his arm. “Could have been Hank shooting a varmint or hunting meat for dinner. No call to drag the sheriff all the way out here.”

  The logical part of her mind, the part that wasn’t fearful for Hank’s life, informed her that he was right. And even if Billy rode hard, Hank could be lost to her by the time the youth returned with the sheriff.

  Billy glanced between her and the older man. “So, am I going or staying?”

  Mr. Upkins stared out over the hills, then smiled. “I reckon you’re staying, because here comes Hank now.”

  Nancy clutched the reins, setting the team to shifting in the traces. Between the trees, she could just make out Hank and his horse, riding closer. Relief nearly washed her off the bench.

  He didn’t look hurt. She couldn’t see that he favored an arm or his side. In fact, as he rode closer, she could see that his face was set, as if he’d reached some decision. She had to force herself to stay on the bench and not climb down and run to meet him.

 
As he came abreast of them, Mr. Upkins pointed a finger at him. “You had the lady all worried. You make peace while me and Billy round up this group.”

  Nancy should have been the one giving the orders, but she was too relieved to see Hank alive to argue with the older cowhand. Hank didn’t argue either as Mr. Upkins and Billy returned to their duties with a tip of their hats in respect to Nancy. She could see Mr. Upkins catch Rosebud’s eye and direct her away. The other cows began to shuffle past.

  “Sorry about that,” Hank murmured, watching them, as well.

  She should accept his apology, let the matter go. But fear gnawed at her like a gopher on a fresh shoot.

  “What happened?” Nancy asked. “One moment you were roping that steer, the next you’d disappeared.”

  “I saw someone watching the herd,” he answered, bending to pat his horse on the neck. “When I rode closer, he took off, so I went after him.”

  “What!” Nancy stared at him, feeling as if the wagon was once more on uneven ground. “He could have been a rustler, an outlaw. You could have been shot.” The very idea froze her in her seat even as her gaze darted over his body. “Were you shot?”

  “No,” he acknowledged, reaching out a hand as if to calm her. “I followed him to the lip of Winding Canyon, and he pulled a pistol. His shot went wide.”

  Thank You, Lord!

  The thought was swift and heartfelt, but even as she finished her prayer, her temper flared. What was he thinking to take such chances? She’d told him how important he was to the ranch.

  “I asked you to be careful,” she reminded him. “Why would you take off after a gunman alone?”

  He had the audacity to shrug as if he had no idea of the danger or couldn’t care less. “He’d have gotten away otherwise.”

  “It seems as if he got away anyway,” Nancy pointed out.

  He grimaced. “Only because I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a gang waiting for him in that canyon.”

  At least he had that much sense. She drew in a breath, trying to calm her nerves. For a moment, she envied her herd, soothed by no more than a call from a capable cowboy. It would take a lot more than words from Hank to relax her again.

  “So I suppose you came back for reinforcements,” she accused him. “I won’t have you dragging Mr. Upkins and Billy into this.”

  “I wouldn’t take them away from the herd,” he said. “That wasn’t the reason I came back.” He met her gaze, his own solemn. “I came back because I heard you call.”

  Under his regard, she felt her face warming. “Then I’m doubly glad I called. You could have been killed.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  Stubborn. She could see it in those blue eyes, the height of his head. Was it simply the nature of cattlemen? She couldn’t imagine Edmund McKay or CJ Thorn being so determined to risk their lives. And if they were, she doubted Lula May or Molly would put up with such behavior.

  “If you won’t think of yourself, think of the other ranchers,” she said. “Surely, the members of the Lone Star Cowboy League need to know a rustler might be about.”

  She thought he might argue, his jaw was so tight, but he snapped a nod. “All right. I’ll tell McKay and the others, just as soon as I see you safely back at the house.”

  Nancy gathered up the reins. “No need. You’re not the only one who doesn’t need help. I’ll expect you and a report at dinner.”

  * * *

  Oh, but she had her back up. Hank wasn’t sure whether to apologize for his actions again or cheer her for standing her ground. She didn’t give him a chance to do either. She turned the wagon and directed the team back toward the house.

  He’d made a mess of things, that much was clear. Not only had he lost the fellow who’d been watching the herd, but he’d upset Nancy, as well.

  Yet, what could he have done? He wasn’t about to let another rustler get away with troubling the people of Little Horn.

  Upkins galloped back to meet him. “Everything all right? Mrs. Snowden didn’t look none too happy when she drove off.”

  “I’m none too happy myself.” He went on to tell Upkins what he’d seen.

  The older cowhand shook his head. “And here I thought things might settle down. Jenks and I will be on the lookout. Do you still want to send these west?”

  “No,” Hank told him. “Drive them closer to the house. The grazing’s not as good there, but it will be easier for us to keep an eye on them. I’ll help once I’ve told McKay about the trouble.”

  Leaving Upkins to his work, he rode to the McKay spread to talk to his friend.

  Since marrying Lula May, McKay had moved his things to the Barlow ranch, but most the cattle work still took place on his spread. Hank wasn’t surprised to find the tall rancher near the barn. He and his brother were watching a hand put a quarter horse through its paces. Hank was fairly sure the horse had to be one of Lula May’s beauties.

  Both men turned as he rode up. Like his brother, Josiah McKay was tall and powerfully built, with sandy hair and warm green eyes. The older brother, he ran the lumber mill in Little Horn.

  Edmund strode to meet Hank, the planes of his face tight and hard. “What’s happened?”

  Did Hank look all that worried? He was careful to compose his face before swinging down from the saddle. Josiah came over as Hank started explaining what he’d seen. When he’d finished, Edmund shook his head.

  “I was afraid of this. I’ll send word to the others to keep watch. We’ll need to talk after church services tomorrow about what else can be done.”

  “We’re bringing the Windy Diamond herd closer to the house where we can keep an eye on them,” Hank told him. “And I’ll start posting a night rider again.”

  Josiah rubbed a hand against his trousers. “I’ll finish my business and let you get to it, Edmund.”

  The three turned to admire the animal trotting about the corral. Hank could see it had clean lines, graceful haunches. It seemed a little dainty for a cattle pony, but then he supposed it would do for a riding mount.

  “Lula May has some fine horses,” Josiah said with a smile. “You were right, Edmund. She’s the one for my Betsy.” His smile faded. “I just don’t know when she’ll be up to riding her.”

  He looked worried. Hank knew it was none of his affair. He tried not to pry into the business of others. But Josiah seemed as if he needed a friend.

  “What’s the trouble?” Hank asked.

  Josiah colored. “It’s a woman thing. I don’t really understand and neither does Doc. Betsy says some pregnancies are just harder than others.”

  Hank nodded. “If that’s the problem, I may have an answer. Nancy’s ma was a midwife, and she taught Nancy all about babies and such. I’d say she could help your wife.”

  Josiah brightened. “I’d be much obliged. It’s not easy watching the woman you love hurting.”

  Hank couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t like seeing anyone hurting.

  But the matter stayed on his mind as he rode back to the Windy Diamond. He kept remembering the look on Nancy’s face as he’d returned from following the stranger. Though she’d scolded him something fierce, that sense of his told him she hadn’t been angry or disappointed as his family might have been.

  He’d frightened her again.

  He supposed he couldn’t blame her. He’d claimed he could take care of himself, and she’d seen a gun in his hand. But Lucas Bennett had been a quick draw too. Hank was quicker, and he couldn’t make himself feel sorry he’d managed to stop the man before he shot his friend.

  Still, he knew he had an obligation to take care of Nancy and baby Ben. The way the bank was carrying on, Nancy needed him as her husband. And she still had a lot to learn about running a ranch. Losing help in that situation would probably scare anyone.


  But he couldn’t just walk away from finding Lucas’s accomplice. He needed to see justice done. And he didn’t want anyone else to be hurt because of his inaction.

  He’d simply have to apologize again this evening. He hadn’t meant to upset her. And he doubted having her upset was good for the baby.

  Just thinking about the baby made him smile. He was going to be a pa, and he’d make sure little Ben understood he was loved. Oh, Hank knew some men thought too much encouragement spoiled a lad, made him soft. He thought love could be a firm foundation, the fertile ground on which a boy might grow to be a man he and his family could be proud of.

  Would his pa be proud of the man Hank had become?

  His fist tightened on the reins, and Belle faltered. Patting her on the neck, he released the pressure. He didn’t want to fall into the pit again. Nothing he did, nothing he said, had ever been good enough for Henry Snowden senior. His father had made it clear Hank would never measure up. He shouldn’t even try to think otherwise.

  Yet, if Hank was going to be a father, that made his mother a grandmother again, his sisters aunts. Judith, Almira and Missy had already been married with children of their own when he’d left. Little Ben had cousins he might never meet.

  Unless Hank was willing to take a chance.

  Contacting his family was a risk, one he wasn’t sure he was ready to take. His mother’s sense of propriety could make most folks uncomfortable. His father had strong opinions, about most everything. Hank didn’t want Nancy or the baby hurt by them. Yet he couldn’t very well show up in Waco without his father knowing about it.

  Maybe he could write, as Nancy had suggested. His family might not even answer, but at least he’d know he’d tried. Perhaps that was all that mattered.

  Decision made, he urged Belle into a gallop. As soon as he returned to the ranch, he’d write to his family. He could take the letter into town when they went to church tomorrow. He’d simply have to deal with the answer, if it ever came, and hope it wasn’t as bad as the letter Nancy had received from her in-laws.