She swept another glance around the room. When she was growing up in the tenements of Philadelphia, she’d dreamed of a house like this. Spacious. Comfortable. Clean. When she’d become a ward of her wealthy grandmother, her world changed. The large townhouse she moved to with its richly appointed rooms didn’t fit her dream. It was too much. Opulent. Stilted.
As homey as Colt’s house was, it didn’t call to her as Sollano had. Sollano was grand, but it had soul.
Maybe it wasn’t the house that infatuated her. It was the man, and her infatuation with him had blinded her to the fact his lifestyle wouldn’t suit her.
The social circle she found herself in back in Philadelphia was stilted. Elitist people who thought a big bank account and social standing made them better than anyone else. She’d felt so out of place. That’s why she came west. To find a simple life with people who loved one another more than their positions and possessions.
Why had she ever thought she’d be happy at Sollano? It was four times as big as her townhouse, and just as richly appointed. Not as much wallpaper or chandeliers, but elegant. Why did she think she’d be happy married to Rhyan? Her future would be like it was in Philadelphia. Fawning over people who thought it their due.
If he ran for political office, they’d be traveling from city to city. She’d seen how it was for the wife of a politician. On the sidelines. Alone. A pasted smile on her face.
Or more likely, he’d leave her at Sollano during his travels. She’d hardly ever see him. He was so good-looking. He’d be a temptation to every woman he met…while she was back home. Alone.
All things considered, Colt would make her far happier—or someone like Colt. If she married a small rancher or farmer, her husband would always be within hollering distance, as Emma put it.
She wished Emma would return soon. She needed a motherly type to talk to. Yes, Rachel and Myra were good friends, but they didn’t understand her like Emma did. Maybe Emma could tell her why her mind accepted that Rhyan was totally unsuitable for her, but her heart refused to budge.
After fidgeting for ten minutes, she decided to go in search of Colt. She called to the back of the house to let Harriet know her intention. “I’m going on out to the corral.”
Outside, she rounded the corner of the house and caught sight of Colt standing inside the wide-slatted fence, rope in hand. A big gray stallion raced in circles. She couldn’t hear what Colt said, but she knew he was talking to the horse.
A good thing she hadn’t waited for him. He might spend all day out here talking to that jittery horse. She moved softly forward so as not to disturb him. He used a meeking technique to settle his horses before breaking them to a saddle. Most ranchers scoffed at this as a waste of time, but in the end, Colt’s horses were more trainable than any in this part of the country.
He was a very patient man, and he might have to be if they were to have a future together.
Colt must have sensed her presence, because he turned to look at her from under the brim of his hat. When she was still several yards away, he climbed the fence and jumped down on the other side.
“Sorry for interrupting.” She punctuated her apology with a smile and shaded her eyes from the sun’s glare with her hand.
“That’s all right. It’ll be awhile before that horse gets near me. It takes time to gain a horse’s trust.”
How true. It took time to gain a man’s trust too. Faith was a process, not a one-time thing.
“Let’s pull up some shade.” He nodded to the barn’s overhang. “What brings you out here?”
She paced beside him to the spot and tilted her head to gaze into his dark blue eyes. He was a bit taller than Rhyan, but not by much. She no longer wondered why she kept comparing the two men. She loved them both.
“I thought of something that might mean Rhyan has more money than he realizes.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he waited for her to continue. For the first time she realized how silly her idea might sound, but she was too far into it to back out. “When I was cataloging Rhyan’s library, I noticed that his father and grandfather wrote things in books they’d read. In fact, I used the information Cortland wrote to help me put the books in the right category.”
She drew in a deep breath. Colt hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “Cortland wrote something about money Rhyan didn’t know about?”
Put that way, her notion sounded even sillier. Cortland wouldn’t have hidden money from his son. “No—it was something Oliver, his grandfather, wrote. He didn’t write about the books like Cortland, but rather something related to what was going on at the time. It was interesting, but not helpful to me, so I didn’t pay much attention to his notes. Yet I recall one entry where he wrote something about his gold.”
“You mean the gold he panned in the Sierra Nevada? That was fifty years ago.”
“Do you know what he did with the gold? Have it assayed and…what?”
Colt pushed his hat back and looked off in space. “I don’t think he had it assayed, leastwise, not all at once. It was before my time, but from what I heard he’d take what gold he needed for something and carry it to some eastern bank to convert to cash. It took a lot of money to build this place, so I’d be surprised if he didn’t use it up.”
“But something about the note I found in that book made me think he hadn’t used all of it. Maybe the ranch began supporting itself before all the gold was used up.”
“What did the note say?”
She scowled and blew out a puff of air. “I can’t remember exactly. It wasn’t clear at all, but I remember thinking at the time Rhyan might be richer than he realized. It was that time you and Rhyan went to Laramie, and when you returned, I guess I’d forgotten about the gold.”
Shortly after that, Rhyan’s fight with Harlan Colvic, and Senator Timmons’s murder had knocked all sense out of her. How could she remember?
“Have you told Rhyan about this?”
She looked away. “No…I’d rather you did that.”
“I just came back from there a little while ago.”
“You don’t have to tell him today. Just the next time you see him.”
“Well…no, this is pretty important. That financier’s been breathing down Rhyan’s neck, wanting to buy the ranch. Do you know which book?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t remember which one, and there are thousands in that library.”
A nerve in Colt’s cheek pulsed. “Well, with you and me and Rhyan, we could cover it.”
“Maria and Harriet could help. And Clay should be well enough to look through the books. Both he and Jake could help.” With that many searching for the book, it shouldn’t take them long. “It had to be an old book, so I could look through the card catalog and identify those. That way we don’t have to go through every last one.” As she spoke, the idea grew from a foolish idea to something concrete and sure.
She drew in a deep breath and held it a moment before exhaling. “It might be a waste of time, but I can’t help feeling the Spirit is prodding me to remember. Have you ever felt like that?”
“Oh yeah, lots of times. When I’m in Bible study or praying, I feel the Spirit guiding my thinking, and sometime when I’m out riding over the ranch. I think all you have to do is be quiet and listen.”
She wished Rhyan felt that way. He didn’t know how to listen to the Spirit. “Rhyan will probably think this is just another of my foolish ideas.”
“No, I think he’ll agree any chance is worth checking out.”
She reached out to lay her hand on his forearm, peeking up shyly. The hair on his temple was clamped with sweat, but the sweep of blond hair on his forehead fluffed back in the wind. She was certain that image would take hold and set her heart racing in time. If she let it. “Thank you for not thinking I’m some addled female.”
He laughed. “I’d never do that. I’ll talk to Rhyan tomorrow at the barn dance.”
She swallowed hard. “The dance is tomorrow, isn
’t it?”
His brows wrinkled. “You haven’t changed your mind about going, have you?”
“I didn’t know Rhyan would be there.” Obviously the town gossips didn’t know everything.
“He won’t stay long. In the summer months, he lets the men have a shot at dunking him in a big wash tub. It’s rigged up where you have to get five perfect shots to spring the board holding him over the water.” He smiled and pushed his hat a little further back. “Crazy men caterwaul and bet on it, but it’s a lot of fun.”
“In all that excitement, you won’t forget to tell him?”
“I won’t forget. I have to talk to him about paying for Dasher anyway.”
She drew in a breath. “You’re going to buy the race horse?”
“I am. Not sure what I’m going to do with him. I’m not much for racing. Might just keep him until Rhyan wants to buy him back.” He walked with her to where Barney was tethered.
“Does Rhyan know what a good friend he has in you?” She undid the reins.
“Yeah, he knows, but he’s been just as good a friend to me. Got me out of a whole passel of trouble over the years.”
She laughed, unable to imagine Colt in a passel of trouble. She stepped into his laced fingers to boost herself into the saddle and looked down at him. “Another thing that keeps nagging me is who you remind me of—someone I could depend on, for sure.”
“It’ll come to you, I expect. Don’t bother about that at the moment, just keep your mind on where Oliver Cason may have left his gold.”
“Wouldn’t that be something? I hope I’m not wrong.”
Colt stepped back as she twisted Barney around. Circumstances could change in the most unexpected ways. She thought her life was over when Rhyan rejected her, but if he hadn’t, she never would have realized what a fine man Colt was.
***
Rhyan wouldn’t have stopped by the barn dance if he didn’t need to make an announcement to the men, and most of them would be gathered there. He dreaded it because Carianne would be present—with Colt. Just because you knew something was right didn’t mean you had to like it. And he didn’t.
Still a quarter mile away, he heard the fiddle and piano. As he neared, shouts and laughter drifted out of the barn shaped building that hadn’t served as a barn for forty years. This had been a part of the first home place, and the first wholly wooden structure erected on the ranch.
Grandpa had left it up to serve as a meeting place for the ranch hands. When women moved into the area, they started holding dances here, sporadically at first, then monthly, then weekly. The Chinese laundry workers also used the place, and several large tubs, lining one wall, had been built for their use.
When the ranch was young, the cowboys were expected to pay for or do their own clothes washing, but as Sollano prospered, Grandpa paid the Chinese workers for everyone’s laundry.
As soon as Rhyan crossed the threshold, he searched for Carianne. He didn’t have to look far. Her colorful frock stood out from the calico dresses worn by the other women. The cotton print with white lattice and tiny pink roses on a yellow background called to mind a summer garden. Trimmed with eyelet lace and a huge double bow in back, it molded her perfect figure.
She always wore a different dress for every occasion, reminding him she was a wealthy woman.
Macky, a gangly cowboy, was swinging her around the open dance floor. No danger she’d give Macky more than a dance. Only a woman with the discretion of a saloon girl would look at him twice.
The dance ended, and for a moment Carianne’s eyes locked with his. She bit her lower lip before angling away and gliding across the floor to where Colt sat tuning his guitar. Without the slightest regard for any propriety, she leaned over, laying her arm across Colt’s shoulder, whispering something to him in a manner of someone who was more than a friend.
Like a lover.
He had the impression she was doing this for his benefit. The gesture was innocent enough. It didn’t cause the matrons huddled in their corner to spare a glance, but it sent a jab of jealousy through him, all the same. He shrugged it off.
“Hey everybody, boss is here.” Jake hollered as if they’d all been waiting. “Now the games can begin.”
Jake referred to the shooting game where they’d try to shoot out the leather strap holding a wooden plank above the wash tub. Rhyan glanced to the contraption rigged on the other side of the room. Why not? If he gave them the bad news while soaking wet, it might be easier for them to take. Or make it easier for him to give.
“At least give him a chance to partake of the refreshments.” Myra rushed forward, carrying a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.
“No thanks. It so happens I’m hot enough to welcome a good dunking.” He raised his voice for all to hear. “Who’s going first?”
Jake and a half dozen other cowboys wrestled each other to the firing line.
On his way to the dunking tub, Rhyan noticed Clay sitting on the sidelines. He hadn’t spoken to their only anthrax survivor since he’d returned to Sollano. Stopping in front of the man, still pale, but stomping his foot to the music. “Good to see you out and about.”
“Good to be out, boss. Don’t feel like kicking up my heels yet, but maybe by next week I can go back to work.”
He slapped Clay on the back. “Don’t rush it. Work’s not going anywhere.”
Rhyan stopped at the bottom of the ladder and pulled his boots off. Everyone tried to talk at once as they gathered around. He’d always enjoyed this game and pretended to fire anyone who dunked him. Today he couldn’t muster enough humor to join in the joking. He climbed the ladder and straddled the plank over the three feet or so of water, ready to get it over with.
If he were honest, the only burr under his saddle wasn’t the announcement he’d have to deliver, but the way Carianne was hovering around Colt. But what did he expect? If he hadn’t been in the picture, they’d have found each other before now. It was meant to be. It was what he wanted. Accept it.
The sooner he sold everything and got out of here, the better. He wouldn’t sell to Yardly though. Anyone but him. Still, he’d have to find a buyer before long.
It wasn’t as easy as he’d thought to get Carianne out of his mind. She hadn’t forgotten him either, though she was putting on a valiant effort to avoid him. It spelled trouble for his peace of mind if she married Colt.
He should have considered that before. It was one thing to lust after a woman, quite another to lust after your best friend’s wife.
The cowboys lined up, and soon rifle shots filled the air, followed by feminine shrieks. Hoots and snickers accompanied each shooter who failed to blast the strap holding Rhyan above the tub. He felt sweat trickle down his chest, and the water shimmering below tempted him to forget the game and jump. Though the barn doors were wide open, the room held in heat. Or maybe it was just him.
“I’ll be dogged.” Jake laid the rifle down. “I’d a’sworn I had it.”
“You missed on purpose.” This came from Talmadge, one of Jake’s bunkmates. “Who else wants a shot?”
The room got quiet as the men looked one to another.
“Why don’t you try, Colt?” Carianne’s soft voice had everyone staring at her.
“I don’t work for the ranch.” Colt reminded her of one of the rules of the game.
“Don’t let that stop you,” Rhyan said. Let him show off for his girl. If anyone could bust the strap, it’d be Colt.
“Go on Colt, do it.” Jake handed him the rifle and the rest chanted, “do it, do it, do it.”
Colt leveled a stare at Rhyan before taking the rifle. He raised the firearm and positioned the sights. Rhyan felt the board quiver as the first shot found its mark. Two, three, four. It seems the blasted strap was hanging by a thread, but wouldn’t give up. Colt was permitted one more shot. If he didn’t make it, Rhyan would jump in.
The shot rang out and the board gave way. Water sloshed up over his shoulder
s as he fell to his knees in the tub. He dipped underneath once and came up, dripping, to wild applause.
It didn’t count because the prize for winning was a day off work, and Colt didn’t work for him.
Rhyan stepped out of the water and almost bumped into Carianne, who stood with a blanket outstretched in her hands. “Thanks all the same, but I’m not cold.”
She moved behind him and threw the blanket over his shoulders. “You should at least dry off. I know it’s hot, but a sudden chill could bring on a cold.”
He grasped the blanket and accidentally touched her hand. She jumped back as if he were a hot poker.
With some effort, he pulled his attention away from her and put his boots on. The others had gone back to the party. If Rhyan didn’t give his speech now, he’d have a hard time getting their attention. He let the blanket drop to the floor and stepped to the middle of the room, holding up his hands. “Hold on, everyone. I’ve got something to say.”
An ominous silence fell as all heads turned in his direction. “This will be short.” He drew in a long breath. “We can’t make payroll next week…or the next. Until further notice, you’ll get half-pay. Anyone who wants to hand in your resignation—no hard feelings, just see Carlos.” He expected some would quit. Who could blame them? But that would keep him from having to fire anyone, something he detested, even if there was no way around it.
“If some quit, then those of us who’re left will have to pick up the work?” Jake asked.
“Yeah, that’s about the size of it.”
Clay stood on still wobbly legs. “I, for one, don’t want to leave Sollano. How long is this going to last?”
“I don’t know.” Rhyan shook the water from his hair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go get out of these wet clothes.” He started to turn but caught sight of Carianne out of the corner of his eye.
She and Colt had caught up with him. Keeping a strangle hold on Colt’s arm, she kept her gaze bored into Rhyan. “Tell him.”
Surrendered (Intrique Under Western Skies Book 2) Page 15
