Frontier Secrets

by Anna Zogg

  The afternoon’s shadows lengthened. He would, no doubt, return later than Bartow and his men. No matter. It was safer that way.

  But a few miles from the ranch, Rhett grew increasingly uneasy. Several times he got the feeling that someone was trailing him. Although caution further delayed his return, he made certain to stay out of plain sight. He hugged the tree-lined stream, weaving in and out of the shrubbery as he slowed Wash to a walk.

  Whoever was behind him also slowed and stayed out of sight. Dusk had fallen. He pulled his jacket out of his pouch and put it over his cream-colored shirt. Urging his horse to continue toward the ranch, Rhett slipped off the saddle and ducked behind a tree. He had trained Wash to stop after a few yards, within whistling distance. Something told Rhett to wait.

  Breath held, he clutched his knife handle.

  But whoever followed him seemed to have disappeared.

  Then he heard the faintest rustle of movement. A horse, chomping at his bit, drew closer.

  “I see you’ve grown more wary.” A voice came from the duskiness. Pete?

  Rhett sucked in a slow breath, hoping to confirm what his ears told him.

  “You waiting to stick me with that toothpick of yours?” His friend’s saddle creaked as he stood up in his stirrups.

  Chuckling, Rhett stepped out of his hiding place. “I wanted to make certain you weren’t going to stick me first.”

  Pete patted his scabbard. “I prefer a rifle. Better distance.” His grin slowly faded. “But from the rumors I’ve been hearing in town, you’re courting to get shot. Likely in the back.”

  Although Rhett grinned, he knew his friend could very well be right.

  “Got your message. From Ira.” Pete dismounted. “But I’m guessing you have more to discuss than an injured horse.”

  Rhett nodded. But where to start?

  * * *

  “Rhett?” Ellie stood in the middle of the drafty barn, hoping her whisper was loud enough for his hearing only. “You there?”

  No answer.

  Where was he?

  Under the cover of darkness, she had crept from the back of the house to the shed, which was empty. Finally, Ellie ended up in the barn.

  The blackness closed around her as she listened for a sound—any sound—that would alert her to his presence. Since nothing happened, she found herself wishing for a lantern. Then she could check on Tripper. She had not brought one because she didn’t want anyone to see or follow her.

  Hand extended so as not to run into anything, she crept forward. Her horse chuffed, obviously knowing she was in the barn.

  “Hey, boy.” She kept her voice low.

  Despite the absence of light, she found the gate and stepped into the stall.

  Tripper nickered a welcome as she smoothed her hand over his soft, warm neck.

  “How’re you doing?” After his welcome, she was sorry she hadn’t brought him a sugar cube or two.

  Standing at attention, her horse allowed her to feel along his back until she got to his leg. From touch only she was able to determine that his wound was nearly healed. It felt cool. However, she noted that he seemed a little thin. “Isn’t Rhett feeding you enough?”

  She reached inside his feed box, but he had plenty of hay. Not only that, but over the last few days Ellie had noticed the gelding in a small pasture. Rhett’s work, presumably.

  She patted Tripper’s neck. “Next time, I’ll bring a treat.”

  With care, she moved back toward the barn door. She was nearly there when it swung open. Instinctively, she froze. Guy’s silhouette filled the doorway.

  “Ellie?” Guy’s voice echoed in the space. “You in here?”

  She stepped forward.

  “Yes. I’m coming out.” She refused to be alone in a dark building with him.

  The minute she walked outside, he remarked, “Thought I saw you go in there.” His eyes narrowed. “You alone?”

  Her first instinct was to retort that this was none of his business. Instead, she managed a small shrug. “Just me and Tripper.”

  “Without a lantern?”

  She crossed her arms. “Did you need something?”

  “No. Well, just wondering how Will is.”

  “Better.” When Ellie had left him in his cabin earlier, he was resting peacefully.

  Thank You, Lord, that his awful coughing stopped.

  “I don’t want to be indelicate, but have you thought about what’ll happen after he passes?”

  She tamped down the impulse to retort that indelicate could be Guy’s middle name. “No. I don’t want to think about it.”

  And she didn’t really want to continue talking to the foreman. But he seemed to have something on his mind. As she moved toward the house, he followed.

  “We should at least talk about your intentions.” He matched her pace. “For the ranch.”

  She stopped. “What exactly are you asking?”

  “Ya gonna keep this place? Work it?”

  The question floored her. She couldn’t imaging running a ranch by herself. “I have no idea.” She knew nothing of operating a ranch and had no desire to learn. Not without Uncle Will.

  “But you’re Will’s heir, right? Unless there’s someone else out there I don’t know about.”

  She made a sound of impatience. “I don’t believe any of this is your concern. If you have questions, you should talk to my uncle.” She gathered her skirts and swept away from him.

  “What good would that be?” Guy raised his voice. “If he’s dead?”

  Ellie stopped and turned around.

  The foreman marched toward her. “I ain’t just asking for myself, but all the men. They’re nervous. It’d be nice to reassure them of some plan.”

  She stepped back when the odors of grease, onions and smoke from a fire overpowered her. “After I talk to my uncle, I’ll let you—”

  “No, now.” Guy’s voice grew brittle. “If you do wanna keep it, the first thing you gotta do is grow a little backbone. Stand up for yourself. Otherwise, no man in his right mind will work for you. And you’ll end up losing the ranch.”

  He wanted backbone? By the time she was done talking to him, he’d agree she had plenty.

  “To be honest, I miss the comforts of a big city.” She drew in a quick breath, determined to explain even if none of this was Guy’s business. “I don’t want to learn how to round up cattle. Or brand them. If I inherited the ranch, I’d probably sell it and move to Casper or Cheyenne.”

  Wherever Rhett would prefer.

  The unbidden thought came to her mind. And the realization that she wanted him in her future, however that might look.

  “Thank you. That’s all I was asking.” With a tip of his hat, Guy strode away.

  But the moment he left, her rash words filled her with regret.

  Uncle Will had paid in sweat—and blood—to build this place into a fine ranch. Would she throw it away so casually?

  As she climbed the porch steps, her original plans crystalized in her mind. She had wanted to reacquaint herself with her uncle and practice medicine. Nothing had changed those desires.

  Uncle Will needed her. With proper care, he could live for many years. She could learn about the ranch as they worked side by side. In the coming months, Uncle Will could see the truth about Rhett—his character, loyalty and love for the Lord. And as her uncle’s attitude changed, so would that of the other ranch hands.

  What if they don’t?

  The unbidden question sprung to her mind. Ellie expelled a pent-up breath.

  If not, they could go their way. After she entered her bedroom, names came to mind—Whitey, Hoskins, Blade, Dietmeyer. They all had made it plain, in one way or the other, that they considered Rhett beneath them.

  Those four appeared to be Guy’s closest friends. Wherever he w
ent, one or more always accompanied him. And although the foreman never openly treated Rhett ill, his four buddies did. How would Guy respond if she fired them?

  After retrieving her mother’s diary, Ellie prepared to read from it as she had done several nights. She had a quarter of the way to go before she finished it. But when her thoughts kept returning to the foreman and his friends, she laid the diary aside.

  If Guy complained about them getting fired, he could leave too.

  She gave a mirthless chuckle. “He’d have no doubts about my backbone then.”

  * * *

  From a grassy hill, Rhett stood with his friend Pete. As the sun set, they viewed the ranch. Various lights sprung up as daylight waned. He and his friend had been chatting about the stagecoach runs, but mindful of the hour and the need to return to the ranch, Rhett had to ask, “How much do I owe you for the horse?”

  Pete held up his palm. “Don’t worry about it. The company was happy to get rid of the gelding once I told them he would be no good to them.”

  “You certain?” He doubted the company would just give away a valuable animal.

  His friend grinned. “They owed me.”

  That meant Pete had likely traded the horse for work. Rhett pressed. “Money is no object.”

  Pete’s eyebrows shot up. “Your ranch job pays that well? Maybe I should work for Marshall. My wife wouldn’t mind us settling somewhere.”

  “The horse wasn’t for me.”

  In the growing dusk, Pete’s eyes narrowed. “Ah. Miss Elinor wanted him, eh?”

  Something about the way his friend stared at him made Rhett grow cautious about a quick reply. “I told her I’d arrange the purchase.”

  Eyes narrowing, Pete took his time answering. “Be careful, my friend. You trod on dangerous ground.”

  Since silence seemed to be the best answer, Rhett crossed his arms.

  Pete put his hand on his shoulder. “William Marshall ain’t someone you want to tangle with. And he has a particular hatred of anyone named Walker.”

  Rhett jerked out of his hold.

  “Yeah. I know you’re a Walker. Have known for a while.” Each of Pete’s words seemed to strike at his heart. “I recall my pa telling me the gang hit this area pretty hard. Though it was more’n a decade ago, some folks haven’t forgotten. Will Marshall could’ve been part of the posse that hunted them down.”

  A chill gripped Rhett. Was the ranch owner responsible for his father’s hanging? Not that it would change anything. From all accounts, his pa had deserved the penalty.

  “I don’t exactly know how you’re related to the gang,” Pete went on. “And I don’t care. Just watch your back.”

  “Regardless, come to the ranch to get paid for the horse.” Rhett considered what might be the best time. “How about tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Can’t tomorrow. I’m making a run to Cheyenne.”

  “Then the day after.”

  “I’ll be there. One question, though.” His friend’s mouth pursed. “Why’re you making a mountain outa a molehill?”

  “Truthfully?”

  “Yeah.” Pete gave a bark of a laugh. “Truth works for me.”

  “I’d like another set of eyes at the ranch. See the lay of the land. Then we’ll talk. Something’s going on there that I...”

  He fell silent when Pete held up his palm. Frown gathering, his friend tapped his own lips.

  For several minutes, Rhett heard nothing. But he noticed that both their horses had stopped grazing, ears pricked forward. Was a rider approaching?

  “Hear that?” Pete whispered.

  A low moan and squeal betrayed what was happening.

  “A mare,” his friend continued. “Trying to foal?”

  Rhett nodded. The next thoughts flashed—it had to be Marshall’s horse. And she was in trouble.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Miss Ellie.” Mrs. Johnson’s raised voice and persistent knocking roused her from sleep.

  Rolling over, Ellie blinked at the light behind her curtains. Was it morning already? She had stayed up too late reading her mother’s diary. “Just a...just a minute.”

  “Hurry.” Fading footsteps revealed Mrs. Johnson was retreating.

  Still groggy, Ellie sat up. Had something happened to Uncle Will? Shaking sleep from herself, she grabbed the knitted throw from the foot of her bed. Uncaring that her feet were bare, she rushed from her bedroom.

  The front door was open. As she stepped onto the porch, the sun’s rays blinded her. Mrs. Johnson stood at one corner, leaning over the railing. Squinting from the bright light, Ellie drew closer.

  Her uncle’s voice finally drew her attention toward his cabin. In the yard stood the beautiful buckskin Ellie had seen only from afar. A gangly foal hugged its mother’s side.

  Rhett held the halter’s rope, his hand on the mare’s nose as he spoke low words to her.

  “What’s going on?” Ellie breathed.

  “Dunno, miss.” Mrs. Johnson threw her a look. “Heard the ruckus. Saw Rhett walking into the yard with the boss’s horse, carrying her foal.”

  Hadn’t her uncle warned Rhett to stay away from the mare? Ellie ran fingers over her forehead to rid the cobwebs from her mind.

  The housekeeper nodded her head in Uncle Will’s direction. “Guessing Rhett helped her.”

  A couple men were running from the bunkhouse toward the crowd. However, they drew up short when the mare laid back her ears and shrilled in warning.

  “Stay back, fools.” Uncle Will’s commanding voice filled the yard.

  Rhett spoke low words to the mare, calming her. Only when she settled down did Will speak to him.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Though Rhett didn’t raise his voice, Ellie could understand what he was saying. “I came across the mare in the field. The foal was breech.”

  “Why didn’t you run for help?”

  Rhett shrugged. “No time. I couldn’t leave her to the wolves.”

  Despite herself, Ellie shivered at the idea.

  His explanation didn’t seem to soften her uncle, who continued to glower.

  “I know you ordered me to stay away from her.” Rhett’s hand stroked the mare’s nose. “But would you prefer I let her die?”

  Ellie held her breath, waiting for her uncle’s response. From the looks on the faces of the other ranch hands, they did too.

  This was the wild mare that ran loose in the nearby pasture. Ellie had never attempted to get near her. Apparently no one could except Uncle Will.

  And Rhett. The realization dawned that the mare wasn’t skittish about him. Had Rhett tamed the mare?

  He disobeyed my uncle.

  Yet, if he hadn’t...

  Any moment, Ellie expected him to fire Rhett. She, along with everyone else it seemed, waited with bated breath.

  “Then I guess I owe you my thanks.” Will stuck out his hand.

  After a second, Rhett stepped forward and shook it. Then he held out the lead rope, but her uncle declined to take it with a shake of his head. “I’ll incur the wrath of my niece if I even walk across the yard. I’d be much obliged if you would stable Sugar.”

  “Yessir.”

  “You men.” Will again raised his voice. “I don’t pay you to stand around and gawk. Get back to work.”

  They hurried to their various tasks. Only then did Ellie realize that Guy wasn’t among them. Where was he? She caught sight of Whitey, leaning against the bunkhouse. Even from a distance she could see his curling lip.

  Rhett waited until the yard was nearly empty before turning the mare around. As his gaze met Ellie’s, he paused.

  She could tell he’d had a rough night, from his red-rimmed eyes to the scruff on his chin. But though sleep-deprived, he managed a small smile and a nod in her direction.

&nb
sp; Her breath caught, but ever mindful of watching eyes, she stifled her own smile. Instead, she inclined her head.

  Not only was Mrs. Johnson studying her, but Uncle Will.

  * * *

  Rhett stretched and yawned, getting his bearings as he blinked awake.

  Right. He’d helped with the mare last night.

  Rubbing his face, he sat up. Had to be past noon. Though he’d slept several hours, he still felt groggy. No time to lie around any longer, though. Although Marshall had given him the day off, Rhett had work to do.

  He stashed his bedroll and other possessions, then swung down from the rafters of the shed. Almost noiselessly, he dropped to the dirt floor before squatting and listening. Wisdom told him he needed to determine where everyone was before sauntering out of the building.

  He detected someone in the corral with the horses. Roping them for the blacksmith? Seemed so. In the distance, Rhett caught the sound of a hammer striking metal. He heard the familiar hack of Marshall’s cough. Sounded as though he was on his cabin’s porch. Likely Ellie was nearby so she could fuss over him. The sound of sloshing water told him that today was washday. Mrs. Johnson was scrubbing clothes while her husband hauled buckets of water to the cauldron. The fire beneath it crackled and popped. Another woman spoke—Alice, Mrs. Johnson’s sister.

  Rhett rose to his feet and brushed the lingering straw from his clothing. His grumbling stomach told him to get something to eat. Far too many hours had passed since he’d had food.

  After he emerged from the shed, he noted Ellie exiting the house. She immediately waved. Aware that Marshall also saw him, Rhett merely nodded in return as he beelined for the back of the house.

  But Ellie would have none of that. She gestured him over.

  With slowing footsteps, he approached the steps.

  “Where’re you going?” Her eyes seemed to dance as she asked the question. She was a picture of loveliness, her hair pinned into a loose bun—unlike how it had been that morning, flowing over her shoulders. Instead of a dark green wrap over her nightgown, she wore a gown of dazzling blue, fringed with delicate lace and dark piping. The colors complimented her creamy complexion and golden hair. But it was her smile that dazzled.