by DeWanna Pace
Gage had no beef with anyone but the horse thief. He was sore at himself for Willow possibly seeing the truth first. He’d finish the job, all right, and take Hutton to justice if he proved to be the man he was after, but there would be no sense of achievement in how lousily he’d gotten the job done or the fact that he’d put Willow at risk.
“I remember you,” Rafford said. “You were here a while back checking on my horses. That fella you was looking for ain’t been nowhere around here. Sorry.”
The whip quit cracking the air.
“Good,” Gage answered. “Thought I’d check back. Heard you had a bunch of new broncs. This particular thief likes to choose what no one’s branded yet. He’s no good at shifting the brand. Keep an eye out for trouble. I suspect he’s pretty close and has already caught wind of your bunch.”
“You a lawman?” Rafford eyed the holster strapped to Gage’s hip.
“Don’t wear a badge,” Gage answered truthfully. Of course, if anyone looked in the hidden pocket sewn under his horse’s saddle, he’d find the letter of authority signed by the governor and given to all Rangers to carry somewhere in their belongings. “Don’t mean I won’t see that justice is served. You got clear papers on these animals?”
“Why are you asking, friend?” Bull looked as if he might be ready for the next fight.
Hutton interrupted. “Settle down, Rafford. It’s me he’s checking on, not you. Newcomb wants to make sure I’m on the up-and-up with buying for my employer. I showed you the letter of intent already, didn’t I?”
“Sure did. Parker’s bought from me before and I recognize the writing. He’s a man of learning and writes better than most. You calling this one a horse thief, Newcomb?”
“Not yet, but once I have proof, I might.”
“Let it go.” Hutton coiled his whip and put it back inside the holster. “Don’t much blame him for trying to impress that pretty piece of petticoat. Just don’t like it being at my expense.”
“What petticoat?” raged the thin woman. She jabbed the parasol at Hutton. “What did I tell you about taking up with another woman if you were courting me? I thought we had an understanding.”
The wrangler’s hand reached for the whip, then halted as Gage cleared the gun from his holster.
“Might be wise to reconsider,” Gage warned.
The big-nosed woman reined her horse around, her eyes ready to spill tears. “Will you take me back to town, sir? I prefer not to share his company any longer. And to think I did... Well, I did things I’ve never done for any man.”
“Sure, I’ll be happy to see you safely home, Miss...?” What was her name? He didn’t need or want to hear any more of her explanation. The fact Hutton had been paying court at the same time to two women, one of them being Willow, was enough to gall Gage. He ought to just shoot him on the spot.
But he wouldn’t let jealousy rule his reason. He only hoped Willow’s reason for allowing the man so close was merely to do research.
“It’s Miss Finchmeister. Ellie. I met you at the Parkers’ wedding, if you’ll remember. My aunt’s a founding member of High Plains.” She sniffled, then started to wail. “I thought I’d found the love of my life. But he took me for a complete fool. How am I ever going to live this down, or tell my aunt, for that matter? I’ll never trust another Texan as long as I live. Oh, except you, of course. I want to go back to Atlanta, where men are civilized.”
Atlanta? The origin of the letter Willow had received on the day she arrived. Did the two women know each other well?
He wanted nothing more than to get this woman where she wanted to go and warn Willow and her family that Shepard Hutton was not to be trusted any longer. Whether or not he turned out to be the thief Gage was looking for, their employee was no kind of man to have around the place. If he himself had to stick around and take care of the ranch and horses until Parker and his bride returned, then so be it.
He wouldn’t let Hutton back on the property if he had any say-so whatsoever in the matter.
The only trouble he foresaw now was how to get Ellie Finchmeister to stop talking long enough to let him think how to go about convincing them.
He couldn’t believe anyone could outtalk Willow.
Chapter Fourteen
“Shepard’s home,” Ollie shouted from somewhere just below Willow’s window. “You oughta see how many horses he brung. They look fine and dandy. Come out and see, everybody!”
Willow had been writing so long at her table that her neck was sore from bending over the paper and her legs ached from the crease the edge of the chair seat pressed into the back of them. She yawned and stretched, reluctant to leave her story. She was on the last page and couldn’t quite get it right. Nothing seemed good enough to wrap up the impression she hoped to leave on the readers about Ketchum so they’d want to ride along with him on his next adventure.
Evening shadows filtered from the window and she’d have to light the lamp if she didn’t want to ruin her eyes. They already were blurring just from the amount of time she’d spent making sure every word rang true.
“Aunt Willow, come on! You gotta see this. Hurry up!”
“Be right down,” she shouted back but didn’t move an inch. The image was right there in her mind’s eye. Just the right word would bring it into full focus and send her fingers flying across the page.
What would Ketchum be feeling at this point? she asked herself, shutting away the world that surrounded her now and climbing into the skin of the character she’d come to know better than herself.
Ollie’s hollering faded. The four walls that encompassed Willow disappeared and became a stretch of Texas wilderness that spanned the horizon for as far as the eye could see. The sizzling heat of the desert made her back feel sweaty and she scratched it on a corner of her chair, which suddenly transformed into a tall standing saguaro cactus as she swallowed against a dry, thirsty throat.
The words started to flow and she grabbed her pen, hoping to catch them fast enough.
His particular trail that led to perdition had been paved with good deeds. All he had left to give was a saddle and a whole lot more sacrifice.
Ketchum thumbed up his hat brim and looked beyond the sunset ahead. He had little hope, but he remembered a time when he had none.
There was always the land—Texas, stretching out as far as a man dared to dream and was strong enough to venture. He turned his back on all he’d learned and lost, knowing the one thing he’d carry with him forever—the will to start all over again.
The wilderness faded and with it the drought Willow had suffered with her talent. Amazed at the images she’d created that offered the feeling of Ketchum conquering something within as well as without, she knew beyond doubt that this was the true character she’d wanted to create all along.
This was her grandfather’s kind of hero. True to his profession. True to the land. True to himself.
Tears blurred her eyes as she wrote “The End,” folded the pages into thirds and placed them in the envelope she’d addressed earlier to her editor. All she had to do now was put it in the mail in the morning. She left it lying on the table for now, full of bright promise and future dreams.
“Aunt Willow, are you coming?” Ollie whined, sounding exasperated. “You said you’d be right here. We’re going to miss it.”
Snow showed up in the doorway, carrying a lantern. “We better get out there or she’s going to throw one of those ropes she and Thaddeus have been making and haul you down there herself.”
Willow enjoyed the sound of her sister’s laughter joining hers. “You’re right. She’s about as patient as you were at that age.”
They almost skipped downstairs side by side, the lightness in their steps revealing the joy their earlier talk had given both. The lantern swayed as Snow jostled it, flashing silhouettes to and fro across the walls, reminding Willow of the many times they’d played shadow puppets with their hands. She couldn’t wait for morning for many reasons, but spending the da
y with Snow was one of them.
Myrtle stepped inside the house just as the sisters were exiting, looking hard at them. “Something wrong with you two?”
Snow and Willow shared a glance and laughed. “No, why?”
“Well, this is the first time I haven’t seen you ready to smack each other.” The chignon at the top of the short cook’s head shifted as she stared up at them. “What happened?”
Willow giggled. “I fell in love.”
Snow grinned. “I remembered how to like her.”
“I’m going back to my kitchen,” Myrtle announced, “until somebody around here regains their good sense. Forty-some-odd new horses. Breaking horses in the near dark. What was the man thinking! And he says he’s going to hire a couple of new men. More to feed. Y’all need to give me a day off or one of you learn to be a better cook.”
“I volunteer Willow,” Snow suggested. “She needs to research that old saying about the way to a man’s heart. Might want to break out another skillet or two, Myrtle.”
“Get out there and see to them children. I’ve got hungry men to feed. Now shoo, the both of ya.”
Willow hurried along, ready to take a great big old bite of life again. The one she’d just finished putting on paper had emptied her and she needed to fill back up with new knowledge and fresh ideas. She’d sleep good tonight, having put that story to rest, but she wouldn’t let herself take time away too long or she’d lose the pulse of creativity that felt as if it still throbbed in her fingertips.
“Can’t wait to watch the men break the horses. I’ve never seen that done,” she told Snow as they headed into the barn.
The corral and the field beyond were full of horses of every color and height. Roans, duns, bays, standard army issue. “Shine the lantern on that one.” Willow pointed toward a massive coal-black horse. “Is that what I think it is?”
“A Percheron.” Snow focused the light on the magnificent beast that most stage companies preferred to pull their coaches. “Shepard knows his horseflesh. Bass and Daisy are going to be more than pleased by his purchases.”
“If they’re still here when they get back,” Willow muttered, scanning the stalls for sight of him. “Shepard, you in here?”
“He’s out in the paddock.” Thaddeus came around the corner and frowned, his thumb pointing over his shoulder. “Told me and Ollie we better get on back to the house and stay there. Said it was too dangerous and we’d be in the way.”
The boy’s gray eyes rounded. “Ollie kicked him what for and said this was her place and he worked for her, so she could be anywhere she pleased. I figured I better mind him ’cause he’s bigger’n me and he doesn’t like us kids much. But I just want to watch. I promise not to get in the way.”
Willow consulted with Snow on the matter. Both agreed if Thad stayed close to the two of them, he’d be safe enough. Besides, the boy needed to at least watch what the men were doing. After all, he’d one day inherit part of the ranch and might have to know how to break horses himself.
“Shepard, will you come here a minute?” Willow waved him in as she tried to meet him halfway.
The wrangler snorted impatiently and marched toward her as if he was still perturbed at her for changing her mind about going to Rafford’s place with him.
“This gonna take long?” he demanded rudely.
She guessed all good manners were off. Her chin lifted as she shot him a glare. “I’m going to let the children watch what you’re doing, but you don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure they stay on the other side of the fence.”
“You agree with her?” Shepard thumbed his hat up and stared at Snow.
Snow nodded.
“Your poison. Just trying to keep ’em safe.”
“We appreciate that,” Snow offered as Hutton glared at Willow one last time and walked away.
“Glad somebody around here does. Oh, and Willow.” Hutton pulled up the bandanna he wore around his neck to cover his nose, making him look much like the bandit she suspected he might be. “Shorty gave me a book he found in one of the saddlebags earlier. It’s lying on my table where I oil the tools. Might want to take it with you when you go in.”
Her face froze, and she hoped she showed no sign of concern.
He’d obviously opened the journal to find out its owner. Fortunately, she’d written her name on the inside cover, in the event she ever misplaced it. He wouldn’t have had to search far.
“My journal,” she told Snow, who shot her a look of curiosity. “I loaned Shorty my horse and accidentally forgot it was still in the bag.”
Had Shorty read all that she’d written and shown it to Shepard?
Or had Shepard read farther than the first page?
Willow got her answer when Hutton winked at her and turned around, pulling the whip from his holster and lassoing the air with a resounding crack.
The horses scattered, racing away from the possible sting of being too close for comfort.
God help her if he was the man Gage was tracking.
She couldn’t write herself out of the danger she might have just put herself into for real.
“I’ve changed my mind, sis. I don’t think I’ll let the children watch right now. It’s later than I thought and will be dark soon enough. They’re both tired from fishing and I’m exhausted from writing. Why don’t we all wait until tomorrow to watch the men work with the horses?”
“Aww!” Ollie and Thad complained at the same time. “We’re not too tired. We won’t get to watch them till we do our chores tomorrow. They’ll prob’ly be done already by then.”
“Or gone,” Willow whispered so only Snow could hear. “Hutton needs to be long gone by the time we bring the kids home tomorrow if he isn’t already.”
“You’ve got more to tell me.” Snow took Thaddeus’s hand and let Willow grab Ollie’s.
“I can walk by myself,” Ollie grumbled. “I don’t need no help.”
“But I do. I’m a little scared and I need someone brave enough to help me think smart,” Willow insisted. “You reckon you could walk me back to the house and stay with me a while?”
“Sure. You chickenhearted about something?”
“And you aren’t?” Willow tried to build up Ollie’s pride so she’d be more willing to help. “Just one thing. I’ve got to stop in the barn and grab my journal before we head into the house. It won’t take a minute, I promise.”
“Okay, if we hafta.”
Willow hurried as fast as Ollie’s little legs could manage. Though her sister had no clue what she was about to learn concerning Shepard, she must have sensed her urgency, for Snow grabbed Thaddeus up in her arms and took strides that ate up the ground in great length.
Reaching the barn and rushing to the two-barreled table, Willow spotted her journal and grabbed it quickly.
Alongside it, gleaming golden in the amber light of a lantern, someone had laid a golden tooth polished to a fine sheen and a can of black boot polish.
She got his message. Keep her mouth shut.
Her gaze darted to the buggy. How hard would it be to hitch up, and could she stop her long-legged sister quick enough to get the job done before Hutton realized what they were up to?
She had to get them all to safety. Including Myrtle.
Letting go of Ollie’s hand, Willow whispered, “Run and tell Aunt Snow to come back. That I need her and Thad. And then go get Myrtle. Tell her not to argue and don’t come out complaining about being in the middle of cooking supper. The two of you stay together and meet me out front as quickly as you can.”
“Something wrong?” Ollie whispered.
“Only if you don’t do exactly as I told you, honey.” Willow hugged her close.
Ollie leaned away. “Don’t get all kissy-huggy on me, okay?”
Willow released her niece. “Remember, as quickly and quietly as you can, meet me out front. All you and Myrtle will have time to do is be ready to jump in. I won’t have time to slow down much.”
Ollie
pressed her forefinger against her lip and nodded, then turned to run out the barn door toward the house.
* * *
Gage’s horse thundered toward Daisy’s ranch as he prepared himself for an all-out confrontation with Hutton, assuming the wrangler and his helper had beaten him there with the horses. He didn’t know how many of the employees were in on the deal, but he’d face them all if necessary.
It had taken him far too long to get Miss Finchmeister settled down and back to her aunt. But helping the spurned woman served a vital purpose in the long run.
Seemed the things she regretted Hutton making her do had everything to do with keeping her out of trouble with the law. She’d spilled the beans about aiding him in forging the counterfeit letters of intent supposedly signed by Bass Parker. Hutton presented a letter to each seller and all the seller had to do was present the letter to the bank. Parker was a respected businessman in the territory and his word was his bond.
According to Miss Finchmeister, Willow’s brother-in-law had written one letter for his employee to use in the event an opportunity to buy more horses presented itself while he and Daisy were honeymooning. But Hutton had duplicated it with Ellie’s help and was buying up horses all over the county with Parker’s money.
Now Gage had enough proof to warrant taking Hutton into custody for embezzlement—a fancier name, but he was still a horse thief.
The sound of pounding hooves coming up the trail toward him at a breakneck speed warned Gage to move so he wouldn’t be run down.
“Get out of the way, mister!” A woman’s voice echoed Gage’s silent instinct of warning.
A runaway team?
He’d barely shifted into the prairie grass when a team pulling a buggy full of people flashed by him, veering dangerously to the right to make the turn to High Plains.
