Hostage Heart

by Lindsay McKenna

  Tension vibrated. Cameron kept smiling. “I see I’m too late to buy you dinner, but I’d like to buy you a drink.”

  Lark fumed, glaring up at the banker. He was an oily snake, from his slicked-down black hair to his bear-grease-polished boots.

  “You’re not too late to buy us dinner, Cameron,” Matt said with a smile. “Ezzie hasn’t brought the bill yet.”

  Cameron hid his annoyance and sat down between Matt and Lark. “I’d be happy to.” He knew Kincaid was laughing at him. It was in his eyes. A gunslinger’s eyes: sharply focused, narrowed and icy. Yes, the breed had hired herself a gun. “My pleasure,” he said smoothly, setting his hat on the table.

  Ezzie came flouncing into the room, picked up all the dirty dishes, and left cups of coffee. Cameron ignored Lark, who sat glaring at him, her eyes hard with hatred, and focused instead on Kincaid, who was leaning back, relaxed.

  “So, I hear you’re the new foreman for the Gallagher Ranch.”

  “Business manager,” Matt corrected. “Paco Hernandez is foreman.”

  “Yes. Unfortunate accident Paco had. I understand from the doctor that Paco will be all right. But his accident’s going to leave you a bit shorthanded at the ranch, isn’t it, Miss Gallagher?”

  Lark opened her mouth to tell him it wasn’t any of his business, but Matt interrupted her. “I’ll be filling that capacity until Paco can handle his duties again, Mr. Cameron.”

  Lark jerked her head around, openmouthed. Would he? She had the wisdom to remain silent, understanding that Matt was somehow playing a game with the banker. She sat back, arms folded across her breasts.

  “I see. Then you’re going to be in the area for quite a while.”

  “Until things quiet down.”

  “Tell me, Kincaid, where did you come from originally?”

  “I don’t think a man’s past is important, Cameron. What counts is what he’s doing now.”

  Cameron toyed with his coffee cup and grinned. “You strike me as a man who was in the war.”

  “Who wasn’t?”

  “North or South, Kincaid?”

  “I always make a point of being on the winning side.”

  “I see….”

  Matt sat up, resting both elbows on the table, nailing Cameron with a black look. “I think you do see. Where I come from, Cameron, men aren’t shot in public and defenseless women aren’t attacked in broad daylight. Next time Shanks comes prowling around, you’ll have to bury him six feet under. Understand?”

  Shifting uncomfortably, Cameron held Matt’s frigid stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kincaid. Shanks is a free agent.”

  “He’s dead next time he tries to harm Lark or any of her ranch hands.”

  Turning his attention to Lark, Cameron said soothingly, “Let’s talk of more pleasant things, shall we? Miss Gallagher, I have a check here in my vest pocket that could set you up for the rest of your life.”

  Perplexed, Lark asked, “What are you talking about?”

  Cameron placed a check in front of Lark. “Five thousand dollars for your ranch, Miss Gallagher.” He tapped the check smartly with his index finger. “With that kind of money, you could live like a queen in the East. In return, you agree to sell your ranch to me, and I’ll have the necessary water and grass for my growing herds of cattle.”

  Lark grew rigid. She shoved the check back toward the banker. “I don’t want your money.”

  Cameron felt some of his patience slip away. “No woman can run a ranch by herself! That’s unheard of. Further, I’ve got a bumper crop of calves this spring and I’ve got to have extra water or my entire herd will die.”

  “Your cattle will die? My father’s been murdered.” Lark leaped to her feet, nearly upsetting the table. Her voice grew dangerously low, wobbling with anger. “As far as I’m concerned, Cameron, you’re responsible for my father’s death. He wouldn’t give you water rights and neither will I.”

  Cameron itched to slap Lark Gallagher’s impertinent face. “Why, you little hellcat,” he rasped, snatching up the check and jamming it in his vest pocket. “You can’t run a ranch—”

  Matt stood and took Lark firmly by the elbow. “Miss Gallagher has me to help run her ranch, Cameron. I’m taking over her father’s duties, and I don’t see any problem with her being able to maintain the integrity of the ranch. Do you?”

  A gasp of surprise escaped Lark. Did Matt mean it? Was he going to take a more active role in her life? She searched his eyes, suddenly weak with relief. Not until that moment had she realized how much she worried about the ranch’s survival under her inexperienced hand.

  “This is your last chance,” Cameron gritted out, glaring down at her stubbornly set face.

  New strength and confidence filled Lark. Matt’s hand on her arm felt comforting, supportive. “Matt Kincaid’s giving me the chance I want to take, Cameron. Keep your money.”

  Matt’s voice broke the look of hatred that burned between Lark and the banker. “Come on, it’s time we turned in,” he told her.

  Lark stood in the doorway to her room as Matt investigated the shadowy depths. He stepped back out in the hall.

  “You can go in now.”

  “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”

  He smiled. “I don’t trust Cameron. Right now, we’re on his territory.”

  “Shanks is in jail.”

  “Men like Cameron often have more than one hired gun around, Lark.”

  She agreed. “Did you mean it down there, Matt? That you would help me run the ranch?”

  He warmed to the hopeful look in her eyes. The need to place his arms around her, to draw her against him, weakened his resolve. She looked too pretty, her blue eyes shining. Matt fought with himself not to take advantage of her. “I meant it. With Paco severely wounded, he won’t be able to carry out his duties for at least another three months. Though my leg is healing fast, I won’t be able to ride for at least two of those months. But I can fill in where you need me, Lark. That is, if you want me to.”

  She nodded, unable to hold his intense gaze. “Then you’ll leave when Paco resumes his duties?” It hurt to think that Matt would eventually leave.

  With a sigh, he lightly touched her cheek. “Yes. But until then, I’ll help you in any way you want me to, Lark.”

  She managed a strained smile, holding his gaze. “You’ve answered so many of my prayers, Matt. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You’ve earned the help through your own actions. Do you realize that?”

  Lark shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “People need people, no matter what their color or race, Lark. You saved my life and put up with a hell of a lot from me at first. If I try to repay all that you’ve done for me in the next two months, it still won’t be enough.”

  “I won’t have much money to pay you,” she reminded him.

  “You didn’t take me in because I could pay you money, did you?”

  “No. It’s the Apache way to help those less fortunate than themselves.”

  “Debts to another person can be paid in many ways.”

  “Apaches do that,” she said softly, with a growing awareness of the similarities between her Indian ways and the ways of her father’s people.

  “Now you’re getting the idea,” Matt said. “Get some sleep. You have a ranch to run.”

  “So now you protect me as a dog would its master?”

  “You could say that.”

  Lark nodded, sobering. She reached out, sliding her hand down his arm. “Matt, I have so much to thank you for.”

  “Shh, let’s get some sleep.”

  “But—”

  “Let’s save any more serious conversation for the trip back to the ranch.”

  She acquiesced, not understanding his sudden reluctance to let her thank him for all he’d done. “All right.”

  With an inward groan Matt moved away from her provocative figure. “I’m right next door to you, Lark. If you need anyt
hing, just bang on the wall.”

  Disappointed by his sudden distance from her, she nodded halfheartedly. “I will. Good night.”

  Chapter 10

  A few days later, to Lark’s surprise, Melinda McDonald met her downstairs in the hotel lobby, just as they were preparing to leave for the ranch. Paco was resting comfortably at Doc Friar’s, who had urged Lark to allow the foreman to remain in Prescott for another week. After introducing Matt, Melinda gripped Lark’s hand, excitement dancing in her green eyes.

  “Come outside. I’m just dying to show you what the ladies of the church were able to gather for the families on your ranch.”

  Lark couldn’t hide her surprise. There, standing proudly on the wooden sidewalk near a wagon, were five other women. They wore neat dresses, with hats and gloves in abundance. Lark felt out of place without such trappings, but swallowed her pride as Melinda introduced her.

  “I went to Father Mulcahy and told him that you were unexpectedly in town. He asked all of these ladies to come and help sort through the clothes we had been gathering for your father.”

  Matt stood back, resting against an oak support beam in front of the hotel, watching Lark’s shy expression change to one of open gratitude. Melinda, dressed in a green silk skirt with a white blouse and matching green jacket, was the epitome of fashion. She took Lark to the wagon and talked at length about the clothes, then pointed to a small sack of toys.

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Mrs. McDonald,” Lark began. “Father never said anything about this—”

  “Of course he didn’t! Roarke had been planning a huge surprise for everyone. Two months ago he came to speak to Father Mulcahy about the poverty of some of the families. We’ve known of Roarke’s generosity to the poor and aged for a long time.” She smiled gently. “The ladies of the church decided to do something about it.”

  Lark looked over the neatly bundled packages. “My father never turned down anyone who asked for a meal and a place to sleep,” she said softly, stunned by such generosity.

  Patting her arm, Melinda nodded. “Abe’s son, Hastings, will drive this wagon out to your ranch for you and then return the same day.”

  “You’ve done so much, I don’t know how to thank you. I know the families will be—”

  “Don’t thank us, Lark,” Melinda chided. “It’s about time this town showed their thanks to Roarke Gallagher. Your father was a man of honor and integrity. We can’t tell him that now, but we can help his daughter.”

  She looked at Melinda for a long moment, then at the other women who had surrounded her. “I—I owe all of you an apology,” she began. “For so long, I thought only the Apache could be unselfishly giving to those less fortunate than themselves.” Her voice grew strained. “I was wrong. So wrong…”

  Millie Harris came forward and slipped an arm around Lark’s waist. “No tears, dearie, or we’ll all stand here weeping on the sidewalk with you!”

  Laughter replaced the tears among the women. Lark took each of the women’s hands in turn, squeezing hard, trying to convey her heartfelt thanks. Hastings came over from the dry goods store and took his place on the wagon seat.

  At fifteen years old, he was a strapping youngster, and he sat with the traces in his hands, waiting for Lark to give the signal to proceed.

  Matt stepped over to Lark and gave her a gentle smile. There were so many things he admired about her. She had grit and determination, and a courage that Katie had lacked. It left him in awe. “Ready to head back to the ranch?” he asked huskily.

  Nodding, unable to trust her voice, Lark allowed him to guide her toward their own buckboard.

  The moment Lark got back to the ranch, there were problems to resolve. Maria came flying out of the house, wanting to know how Paco was coming along. And then Primo came riding up.

  “Patronal” he shouted, pulling his horse to a halt.

  Lark had her arm around Maria, trying to assuage the woman’s tears. “Yes, Primo?” she asked, irritated because the Mexican wrangler wouldn’t wait his turn. Couldn’t he see how upset Maria was?

  “Paco must be avenged!” He pulled out his gun, waving it recklessly. “This has gone too far! I’ve already talked to the other men, and we’ve agreed that this must stop.”

  “You’ll do no such thing!” Lark ordered. “There’s no justice in Prescott, Primo. Sheriff Cole’s as crooked as Cameron, and Shanks won’t be prosecuted. But if you try to do anything, Cole will dump all of you in jail and throw away the key.”

  The young wrangler’s thin brown face wrinkled with concern. “Sí, we know that. That’s why we’re going to ride into Prescott, find Shanks, and string his filthy hide up on the nearest tree!”

  Matt came around the side of the wagon after handing over the mule team to Ramone. He saw the desperation in Lark’s face and heard it in her voice. Primo was angry and it was obvious Lark wasn’t going to make the wrangler obey her orders. He stepped up on the porch beside Lark.

  She shot him a desperate look. “Matt—”

  “Hold it, Primo.”

  Primo scowled. “What is it, señor?”

  “Miss Gallagher has hired me to take over Paco’s job while he’s recovering. I’m foreman now and what I say goes. If she doesn’t want you or the men going into Prescott, you stay here.”

  Primo’s sorrel danced nervously, picking up on the tension between the two men. The wrangler’s brown eyes grew as dark as a thundercloud. “Patron Gallagher would not let you or Paco be harmed,” he declared.

  “My father never once resorted to bloodshed, Primo,” Lark said. “And I won’t either. What Mr. Kincaid says, goes. Do you understand?”

  Primo’s hand clenched into a fist on his chaps. His angry gaze went from Lark to Matt. “I will think about it, Patrona.”

  Matt stepped off the porch and stood directly in front of the wrangler. “There’s no thinking to be done, Primo. You either obey the lady’s order or you can pack up your gear and leave right now.”

  Glaring down at Kincaid, the Mexican cursed. He yanked his gelding around and galloped off toward the corrals, where the rest of the men were branding newly captured mustangs.

  Maria blotted her eyes with a kerchief. “I’ll be fine now, Patrona. I’m sorry for so many tears.”

  Distracted by what Matt had told Primo, Lark patted the woman’s shoulder absently. “Paco’s going to be fine. In another week, we can send a wagon to bring him home. If you want, I’ll have Hastings take you back into town to be with him. Would you like that?”

  “Sí.”

  The day passed swiftly. Lark didn’t even have time to take off her dress, so involved was she in taking care of the many small but important details that concerned her people. Toward evening, she ran into Matt once again. He was limping heavily from the barn to the house. She picked up her skirts and ran to meet him halfway.

  “You look so tired,” she told him, slowing her steps to match his.

  “You’re tired, too.” He gazed hungrily down at her. All day he had watched her deal patiently and skillfully with each problem that was presented to her. Now Maria was bound to Prescott with Hastings Harris, the new clothes for the ranch families had been distributed to everyone’s satisfaction, and the petty squabbles that had arisen in her absence had been settled. He was so proud of her.

  “Did the men accept you as the new foreman?” Lark asked.

  Matt took the wooden steps one at a time. His leg was hurting like hell. “I think they have.”

  “Primo was very angry. I’ve never seen him so upset.”

  “He was letting off steam, that’s all.” Matt gave Lark a faint nod as she opened the door for him. “Let’s go to the office. We’ve got some things to discuss.”

  Lark followed him. Matt sat down carefully in the chair, propping his wounded leg on a stool. She stood in front of the desk, hands clasped.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked fearfully.

  He took off his hat and set it aside. “Nothing’s really wro
ng,” he corrected, trying to get Lark to relax. “This last herd the wranglers brought in are confined to too small a pen, that’s all. Another, larger pen needs to be built immediately, otherwise those mares are going to injure themselves. They’re wild and jumpy. We need to get them settled down if we’re going to breed them to those two studs of yours.”

  Tiredness overwhelmed Lark. Outside the window, she could see dusk rapidly settling over the fertile valley. “My father had a number of plans for the herds we would capture.”

  “Did he discuss any of them with you, Lark?”

  “No.” She sighed and rested wearily against the chair. “Now I wish I’d taken a greater interest in the ranch. My first love was the horses. That’s all I know about.”

  Matt wanted to say: It doesn’t matter, Lark. She looked so excruciatingly feminine in the dress, which in no way diminished the spirit and courage she’d displayed all day. “You know about more than horses,” he began quietly. “I saw you dealing with the women and children.” With a slight smile he added, “You’d make a great mother. Did you know that?”

  Heat stole into her cheeks and she bowed her head. “No…I didn’t.”

  “You dried the tears of the women, kissed the hurts of the children, and got the ranch back on its feet. Your ability to deal with both animals and people is special, Lark. Very special.”

  Warming to his compliment, she raised her chin. “But without your help, this ranch won’t survive. What else needs to be done?”

  “We need another barn.”

  She sat up. “What?”

  Matt nodded, noting her shock. “You need more room for hay this coming winter. There’s no place else to store it. All the room has been taken up with young foals and weanlings.”

  “Oh, no…” The burden on the already strained financial resources would be too much. Where would she get the kind of money needed to buy the necessary lumber? And diverting the wranglers from horse hunting to building a barn would completely destroy her plans to provide the Army with a goodly number of horses in the next few months.