“I came home with him from the saloon in the dark. Why shouldn’t I trust him in the daylight?”
Leo didn’t answer.
“Come on, Leo. What are you hiding?”
“Your mama made me promise I wouldn’t let him get you alone.”
Amanda blushed. “I appreciate your wanting to honor my mother’s request, but I’m quite safe with Broc. I don’t know how long this will take, but we’ll be back before suppertime. In the meantime, keep counting.”
The boys had different reasons for being unhappy with her decision, but they rode away bickering softly until they were out of hearing range. Then, judging from their gestures, they started shouting at each other.
“Maybe you should take Leo. I don’t mind staying with Andy,” Broc offered.
“They bicker all the time. It used to drive Gary crazy.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes before Broc asked, “Why did you choose me?”
Amanda kept her gaze straight ahead. “I wanted to ask you to teach me as much about ranching as you can while you’re here.”
Broc leveled an inquiring glance at her.
“You said the judge only gave you two weeks to collect the debt. That means you have little more than a week before you have to leave.”
“There’s a lot more to know about ranching than you can learn in a week. There’s even more I don’t know. If you really want to learn, you should spend some time at my friend’s ranch.”
“I can’t leave the Lazy T or my job at the saloon. I’ll have to be satisfied with what I can learn before you leave.”
They were riding through prairie covered by bluestem and Indian grass that grew well in the deep, clay soil. Single trees and small groves dotted the gently undulating prairie with some areas of marshy ground bordering the stream that flowed through the heart of the ranch. Songbirds flitted in and out of the grass looking for insects and seeds, seemingly unconcerned about a hawk that circled overhead. A large king snake slithered through the grass in search of field mice or a spot out of the sun. A group of cows and calves was resting in the shade of a post oak, the cows chewing their cuds and watching, the calves sprawled out on the grass, confident of the safety provided by their mothers.
“I can see why you love this place so much,” Broc said.
“I didn’t at first. The ranch was my mother’s idea. She thinks a saloon isn’t a place for a respectable woman to work.” She laughed. “Ironically, Mother thinks working on a ranch is also something a respectable woman shouldn’t do, but there’s no going back.”
They rode in silence a bit longer before she turned to him and asked, “Is the debt real?”
“I don’t know. I can only tell you what the judge told me.”
“There really is a judge?”
“Yes, and he’s really coming here to settle the debt unless you can show him proof that your father paid it before he died.”
“My father handled everything himself and in cash.”
“There has to be some record of it, or the judge wouldn’t have anything to base his decision on.”
“Why would my father have left a record with someone else but not with us?”
“I can’t answer that. Have you talked to Corby? He was your father’s partner. He’s more likely to know than anyone else.”
“Not yet. I—”
She broke off when she saw a group of riders come into sight from behind a hardwood grove.
“That’s Carruthers and some of his cowhands,” she said.
Broc hadn’t gotten a good impression of Carruthers when he’d met him in the saloon. When Carruthers recognized him, he had a feeling that impression was about to be reinforced.
Chapter Ten
“What are you doing on my land?” Carruthers demanded of Amanda in a harsh, accusatory voice. He jabbed a thick, stubby finger at Broc. “And what are you doing riding with him?”
Broc got the feeling there was something more than simple arrogance in the man’s attitude. He had the burning hot eyes of a fanatic, though Broc had no idea what he could be fanatical about.
“One of my cowhands says we’ve got about a hundred cows missing,” Amanda told the other rancher. “I was coming to ask if your men have seen many of our cows on your land.”
He looked pointedly at Broc. “You’re a fool if you believe anything that man says.”
“He’s not the one who said it. He’s just come to work for me. He’s going to teach me what I need to know to manage this ranch successfully.”
The fire in Carruthers’s eyes flared hotter. “I don’t want you learning anything from him. I don’t want him anywhere near Cactus Bend. I particularly don’t want him on my land.”
Carruthers’s men were impassive in the face of his denunciation, but Dan Walch’s uneasy gaze swung from Carruthers to Broc to Amanda and back.
“He’s a stranger, an outsider,” Carruthers declared. “For all we know, he could be a murderer.”
“I’m sure he’s not,” Amanda said.
“He is a thief,” Carruthers declared. “Your brother said he’s claiming you owe a lot of money, and he’s come to collect it.”
“The debt is a misunderstanding that will soon be cleared up.”
“Only one way to clear up something like that.” The light in Carruthers’s eyes glowed even brighter. “You got to get rid of the problem. For good.”
Broc didn’t like the way things were going. He’d witnessed one case of vigilante justice and had no intention of becoming a victim.
“I advised Mrs. Liscomb to refer the question to her banker or lawyer,” Broc said. “I took myself out of it altogether.”
“It doesn’t look that way to me,” Carruthers said. “It looks like you put yourself right in the middle. Now you’re pushing your way onto my land, no doubt looking for a way to cause more trouble.”
“He’s here because I asked him to be,” Amanda said.
Carruthers ignored her. “In Texas we have a way of dealing with thieves.”
Broc had a rifle in his scabbard, but he knew he could be cut down before he had time to get off more than one or two shots. He didn’t intend to let anyone hang him, but neither did he intend to die in a shoot-out. “You have sheriffs and judges, jails and courts,” he said, “just like every other state.”
“We don’t like to depend on judges and courts appointed by the Reconstruction. They favor carpetbaggers and thieves like you too much for the liking of real Texans.”
Broc didn’t like the way Carruthers’s men were fanning out. It wouldn’t be long before he was hemmed in on all sides.
“This is crazy,” Amanda said, clearly surprised at the way the situation was developing. “You can’t possibly mean you want to hang him.”
“It’s the only way to protect you and every other innocent woman in Cactus Bend,” Carruthers assured her.
“He’s been protecting me.”
“That’s how he gets close to you,” Carruthers said, “causes you to let down your guard. You should have listened to your brother. He knew what kind of coyote this man is right from the first.”
“Gary’s angry because Mother won’t sell the ranch,” Amanda explained.
“You should listen to him. I’ll give you twice what your father paid for it.”
“My mother doesn’t want to sell.”
“How are you going to make a go of this place when your only two cowhands don’t know enough to get out of their own way?”
“I’m depending on Broc to change that.”
Her words caused Carruthers’s eyes to blaze dangerously.
“Don’t you have enough sense to see what’s right in front of your eyes, girl?” Carruthers demanded. “He’s nothing but an agent of the Reconstruction sent to steal everything we decent Texans have managed to hold on to. You can tell by his accent he isn’t from Texas.”
“I’m from Tennessee,” Broc said. “I’ve never been part of the Reconstruction. They wouldn’t have me
if I tried.”
“And just why is that?” Carruthers’s attitude said he was expecting another lie.
“Because I fought under Generals Lee and Jackson during the war.” He pointed to his scars. “That’s where I got these.”
“You can’t touch a wounded Johnny Reb,” Dan Walch told Carruthers. “People around here would hang you next to him.”
“There’s not a soul in the county that would touch me,” Carruthers declared.
“It would be nothing but murder,” Amanda said. “It’s against the law.”
“I’m the law on my own land,” Carruthers shouted. “I can do what I want.”
“You’ll do it without my help,” Dan said. “Any of you boys willing to risk your neck?” he asked the assembled hands.
“I know every one of your faces.” Amanda let her gaze travel around the circle of men, stopping briefly to concentrate on each face before moving to the next. “I promise I won’t forget a single one.”
The men slowly moved from their circle to positions behind Walch.
“You can’t listen to her,” Carruthers shouted. “Nobody pays attention to what a woman says.”
“You do if you’re a gentleman,” Broc said.
Carruthers reached for his gun, but Broc had his rifle out and pointed at the man before he could get his gun out of his holster.
“I don’t feel much like dying today.” He waited until Carruthers released his grip on his gun and dropped his hand to his side. “Miss Liscomb wanted to ask if you would assist her in looking for her missing cows. I take your actions to mean you won’t do that, so we’ll leave. People would be angry at you for shooting a wounded war veteran in the back, but they’d tear you apart if you shot a lady. It was nice to meet you fellas,” he said to the assembled cowhands. “Have a good day.” He turned to Amanda and said, “Let’s go.”
“Don’t ride away from me,” Carruthers shouted. “I’m not done talking to you.”
“Keep riding,” Broc said to Amanda. “Don’t respond or turn around.”
“Grace Liscomb is a fool,” Carruthers shouted after Amanda. “She’ll lose this ranch, and I’ll get it for pennies. You’re a dead man, Kincaid. I don’t believe you got that wound in the war. You probably got it trying to steal chickens from some poor Confederate widow.”
Carruthers continued to shout, but his words gradually grew less understandable. When they rounded a grove of post oaks and the ground dropped away toward the creek, his voice faded to a sound only slightly louder than the rustling leaves. Broc could see some of the tension go out of Amanda.
“I don’t know what got into him,” she said to Broc. “I’ve never seen him act like that.”
“Some men can’t stand not getting their own way. I didn’t realize turning down his job to work for you would set him off like that.”
“I’m sorry he was so cruel. For a minute I could almost believe he was serious about hanging you.”
Broc was sure Carruthers had been serious. The question in his mind was whether the cowhands would have stood for anything more than a good roughing up. He was relieved to know Dan Walch wouldn’t.
“Some men like Carruthers have had their own way so long, they don’t understand they are subject to laws like the rest of us.”
Amanda shook her head. “Are all men like that?”
“No, but women can be like that, too.”
Amanda looked thoughtful. “My mother is, a bit.”
Broc thought it wisest not to respond.
“She was brought up to expect a certain kind of life. When the war took it away, she couldn’t understand. My father brought everything he could from Mississippi to make her feel less cut off from the life she knew, but she has never been able to adjust to Texas. Since Papa died, she’s grown a little angrier each day.”
“Maybe having more work to do will take her mind off her troubles.”
“I hope so. Now that Gary has left, she’s going to have to do a lot more than clean house.” She uttered a mild expletive. “She has always been convinced Papa or Gary could make things the way she wanted if they would just try. Gary’s leaving has been a shock to her.”
“I’m sure he’ll come back once he’s had time to cool off.”
“He’ll come back tonight, or he’ll hear some words from me that will take a few layers of skin off his hide.”
Broc was certain that being treated like an errant little brother would only serve to put Gary’s back up. “If you’ll take the advice of a man who has several younger brothers, you won’t say anything to him tonight. You might even sympathize with his frustration.”
Amanda looked surprised, maybe even a little annoyed. “You think I should pretend what he did was right?”
“No, but he doesn’t want the same things as his family. That’s unfortunate, but it’s not his fault that he prefers working in the saloon to working around cows.”
“I think he should come back to the ranch whether he likes it or not.”
“He has the right to look for the kind of work that will make him happy.”
Amanda pulled up her mount and turned to fix him with a steady gaze. “I don’t understand you.”
Broc laughed. “What’s so hard to understand?”
“Everything. Why you’re here in the first place. Why you felt compelled to work for me rather than Carruthers. Why you’re defending Gary when you know he practically hates you. Why Eddie likes you better than his own brother.” She paused.
“Is there more?” Why had he asked that question? He couldn’t expect her to tell him what he wanted to hear.
“Yes and no.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think you must be a crook, and I ought to order you off our land. But the next minute I’m convinced you’re a good man who has handled misfortune with great courage.”
“Why would you think I’m a crook?” Why did he need to ask that question? Did he hope she would somehow talk herself into thinking he was a man she could be attracted to? He told himself she might sympathize with him, even learn to like him, but she could never love him. Regardless of how deep his feelings for her might become, he could never accept a relationship based on sympathy. It would eat him alive.
“The debt.”
“Doesn’t my refusing to accept any money make a difference?”
“Yes, but I can’t forget that you made the request in the first place.”
Maybe it did sound suspicious that a judge had threatened to send him to jail if he didn’t collect a debt, but the judge was real, and he was coming to Cactus Bend intent upon collecting it. Whether the debt was real or imaginary, Broc would bear the blame.
“Don’t worry about it. I won’t be here long.”
There was no need for her to think about him ever again. He wouldn’t be coming back through Cactus Bend after he’d served his time in jail.
He should have stayed at the ranch. There was plenty there he could be doing. Talking to Leo to learn as much as possible about the land and the cows. Trying to get on better terms with Andy. Spending time with Eddie, who wanted little more than to follow Broc wherever he went. Even spending some time with Mrs. Liscomb in hopes of convincing her he wasn’t a thief, but what was the point in building bridges when he would be gone in little more than a week? The closer he got to people, the harder it would be when he left.
So why had he offered to accompany Amanda into town and stayed to escort her home after work? He wasn’t fooling himself that he did it because Gary wouldn’t be coming back until later. He wasn’t even doing it to keep Corby from volunteering. He was doing it because he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to be with Amanda as often as possible.
“What do you want?” Gil, the second bartender, leaned on the bar in front of Broc. He nodded his head in Gary’s direction. “He refuses to serve you, so if you want anything to drink, I’ll have to get it for you.”
“Nothing yet,” Broc said. “It’s going to be a long evening.”
Being in th
e saddle early the following morning would feel a lot better without a hangover. Still, he didn’t know how he could get through an evening of watching men gape and grope at Amanda without getting a little drunk. He hated it when she smiled at the men. He knew she was doing it because it was part of her job, but he hated it just the same. He had no right to feel that way, but he couldn’t stop himself.
The piano player was irritating him. The man was probably doing his best, but his best was rotten. From the time Broc was little, his parents had made extra money by entertaining on riverboats. All of the children had learned to sing, dance, act, and play a musical instrument. Broc had been forced to learn to play the piano. He quit playing when the war started, but he’d gotten back into practice singing and playing duets with Rafe’s wife during the months he’d spent in California. Now his fingers were itching to show this man how a piano should be played.
Unable to stand the double torture, he got up and hurried outside. He could still hear the piano, but he didn’t have to watch the men lusting after Amanda.
The night sky was nearly cloudless, the moon and countless stars shedding their pale light on the dusty streets and creating deep shadows between the hastily constructed wood-frame buildings that made up the town. People, mostly men, moved along the boardwalks and crossed the streets with a purpose born out of the fatigue and frustrations of the day. Greetings were curt, expressions barely altered. All passed Broc as though he wasn’t there.
A couple of men Broc recognized as working for Carruthers entered the saloon without speaking to him.
“You don’t like what we can offer you to drink?”
Broc turned to see Corby had followed him. “It’s not that. I’m just not in the mood right now.”
“I thought cowhands were always in the mood to drink.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be good for business if most men drank as little as I do.” When he did drink, he preferred wine, a fine whiskey, or an aged cognac. His time at Rafe’s ranch had spoiled him.
“Amanda said she hired you to be her foreman.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t offer any more. He waited to see what Corby would say.
When Love Comes Page 13
