He shook his head at the speech. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I feel like I’ve had enough. I feel like I have more important things to worry about than false accusations.” She headed for the gate. “I’m going to give your nephew a riding lesson.”
“How’s Iva?” His softly spoken question stopped her.
She turned, one hand on the gate. She shaded her eyes with her other hand, glad for the bright light in her eyes that explained the sudden dampness in her eyes and kept her from seeing sympathy in his expression. Hearing it in his voice was hard enough.
“She’s okay. Not good but okay. She told me she’s going to put herself in the nursing home if I don’t do it for her.”
“And you said?”
She shook her head. Cars were pulling up. Her other students. “I told her no way will I do that.”
“She should know better than to argue with you.”
“She should. It’s like arguing with herself.” She watched the other kids heading their way. Derek and Brandon were already in the arena. “Have you heard from his mom?”
“She called last week and talked to him for a few minutes.”
“Where is she?” She paused. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. But he’s a great kid and this has to hurt.”
“She’s in Austin. She said she’s getting her life together. She wants to be a better mom and she knew she was failing.”
“If there’s anything I can do...” She made the offer, knowing she was putting herself, her own heart, on the line.
“I appreciate that. I told her I’m going to file for guardianship and Brandon can stay with me. She can come home and use the trailer we have empty. When she can prove she’s dependable she can have her son back.”
“She’s willing to do that?”
He watched his nephew getting on the pony. “Yes. She doesn’t have a choice. I’ve watched as she has dragged Brandon from one relationship to another. He needs for her to be present in his life.”
“What about his dad?”
“Left with another woman and never looked back. Jenna was married once before him, a guy she met right out of high school.”
“She’s lost, Carson. I know that isn’t an excuse, but she’s obviously hurting. Don’t be too hard on her.” Words she never thought she would utter. Not about Jenna. But time did have a way of making things easier. And as an adult she could see that she and Jenna had a lot in common. The loss of parents. The hole that loss left.
“That’s pretty forgiving of you.” His voice was low, intent, and it brushed down her spine, making her shiver.
She stepped through the gate, needing distance between them. She had students. She glanced in the direction of the children.
“She let me know where I belong. Or didn’t belong. She let me know what was best for you. Don’t worry. She didn’t say it to my face.”
“She doesn’t know what is best for her own son, Ruby.”
“I know.” She stood in the arena, knowing she had to escape. “I can’t talk about this right now.”
“Later.” He looked at his watch. “I have to run to town. I’ll be back when his lesson is over.”
She nodded and watched him go. And she breathed, taking the deep breath her lungs needed. Let him go, she told herself. Let him walk away and let him stay in the past. Because he could only hurt her if she cared too much.
And she did.
She cared about him. She cared that he might not trust her brother. She cared that he was alone. Still not whole. Neither of them seemed to be whole.
* * *
Carson drove the few miles to town, his mind anywhere but on the road and the work he needed to catch up on for the league. The last thing he really wanted to do was go into that building and hear more complaints. It was a sad day when dealing with that mess appealed to him more than staying at the Donovan place, watching Ruby give riding lessons to a half-dozen kids.
Watching Ruby, though, that would have been torture. Standing at that fence, watching her smile at children, laugh that carefree way she did, maybe talk to a few of the moms who stayed to observe their kids on horseback. If things had been different...
He thought about that. They had planned on getting married when he graduated from college. They used to sit on the back of his truck and talk about their imaginary kids and what they’d name their little boy and how their little girl would look just like her. A boy named Stetson. He smiled now, thinking about that little boy maybe having her hair instead of his. Or his hair and her eyes.
The dreams of kids, just kids who’d had no idea how life would stack up against them. His dad had shown him a copy of the check and told him the money was the only way she would get an education. Carson would go to college and find someone more suitable. As if they lived in a world that cared.
But his dad had cared. He’d been born and raised to care. They were Thorns, after all. They were Texas society. They were politicians and community leaders; there were expectations.
A car honked as he drove through town. He slowed, nodding to acknowledge that he’d nearly run a stop sign. He waved an apology. The driver offered him an angry glare in return.
Carson sighed and pulled on through the intersection. He paid more attention as he finished the three-block drive to the league headquarters. As he pulled in he noticed several cars and trucks. Yeah, people were here. He couldn’t avoid it.
He walked inside, smiled at Ingrid and wished she didn’t have that hungry look in her eyes. With a vague greeting he kept walking in the direction of his office. Maybe he should sit Ingrid down and explain that he wasn’t interested, and it had nothing to do with her. She was a pretty woman with a lot to offer.
Romance was the last thing he wanted. He didn’t want to get sidetracked. He didn’t want to make another mistake.
Before he could pour himself a cup of coffee, Ingrid appeared in his office, a plate in hand. “I have fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.”
He dripped coffee on his hand and set the pot down to wipe up the spill. When he turned she was biting on her bottom lip and looking apologetic.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.” He tossed the paper towel in the trash. “That pot always leaks when you pour it.”
“If you hold the lid back, it won’t. Something about the lid...” she rambled on nervously.
“Ingrid, I’m not interested.”
She went pale, and he wanted to swear.
“I mean in the cookies.” He pointed to the plate in her hand.
She lit up and that was almost as bad as the rejection. “Oh, okay. Well, if you change your mind...”
He wouldn’t. “Thank you.”
She left his office. He moved to his desk with a cup of coffee.
“That was about as suave as Byron trying to convince the preacher that he doesn’t make change in the offering plate.”
Carson looked up. Ben Stillwater stood in the doorway, a big grin on his face.
“Sure, come on in,” Carson grumbled. “You know, I can’t seem to get a break today. What do you want?”
“Decent conversation and to leave here with my head intact. What’s gotten under your skin?” Ben took a seat across the desk from Carson. “Or should I say who?”
“Don’t start.”
“I won’t. I’m not here to give you a hard time. I saw your truck and thought I’d stop and see if you’ve heard the news.”
At that Carson looked up from the papers on his desk. “Please tell me someone caught the thieves?”
Ben leaned back in the chair. “No, sorry. But now, to top it off, we seem to have a Robin Hood on our hands.”
“The saddles?” He already knew about that.
“What saddles?” Ben leaned forward, pulling off his hat and swiping a hand through his too-long hair.
“Ruby found a tack room full of saddles.”
“Do you think Derek did it?” Ben asked the obvious question.
“He seemed pretty surprised to see them and thought that I’d done it to make up for something Jenna did.”
“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten about that.”
“What?” Carson started to lift his coffee cup, but he set it back down on his desk. The hot liquid sloshed over the sides. He reached for the paper towels that seemed to be a necessity these days.
“I’m not getting into this. But the saddles are interesting because Ruby isn’t the only one receiving gifts.”
“Get to the point,” Carson demanded. He’d always thought of himself as a patient man. He’d always thought ranching was in his blood and that he’d never leave this town. But these days he was having second thoughts about just about everything. He could almost see himself taking the job he’d recently been offered with the state in the Department of Agriculture. The offer was for a job that would help to develop more agriculture export from the state.
People said politics were tough. But living in a small community wasn’t a picnic.
Ben got up and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Ben,” Carson said it as a warning.
Ben grinned as he sat back down. “You need to get yourself a wife. Maybe you’d be less testy.”
“Get out.” Carson pointed at the door.
His friend just laughed. “I’m getting there. Daniel Bunker woke up to a surprise this morning at the Circle C. There was a note on the corral. A gift to make things easier. Some people think the gift was from your ranch because there were ten mighty fine-looking Angus in his corral. But they aren’t tagged and don’t have your brand.”
“I haven’t lost...” He groaned, thinking about his cut fence and the cattle he’d just bought. Cattle that wouldn’t have his brand. If they were his cattle, he wasn’t taking them back from Daniel.
“Daniel was going to have to file a medical bankruptcy,” Ben continued with the story. “He’s about done in, paying for cancer treatments for his son. They’re getting help now, but the travel and the hotels, the food... It’s been a hard year for them.”
“We need to do a fund-raiser,” Carson interjected. “A plate dinner.”
“That would help, too.”
“I’ll get Ingrid on that.”
Ben laughed. “That should keep her busy for a week or so.”
“You could ask her out,” Carson said in all seriousness.
“No, thanks,” Ben said. “I don’t always like to date local. Too many people get in a man’s business.”
“Right.” Carson rubbed his thumb across his chin. “Cattle. Saddles. Someone seems to want to do some good deeds. So is it our thieves or is it someone else?”
Lynette Fields appeared in the door of the office before Ben could answer. The former CPA with her no-nonsense short gray hair and always-serious expression didn’t smile as she eyed the two of them.
“Pastor Mathers was in here earlier. People are asking him if it is the church’s Here to Help organization that is leaving the anonymous gifts.”
Ben laughed at that. “Yeah, because the church is now into regifting stolen merchandise—cattle, hay and what else?”
He looked to Carson for a response, but Carson didn’t want to be involved.
“No one says the gifts are stolen, Ben.” Lynette, who was the league’s treasurer, stepped farther into the room, not at all shy about chastising Ben. Carson kept a straight face.
“No,” Ben agreed. “I’d say I know where the cattle came from.”
“Let it go,” Carson warned. “How are our citizen detectives doing?”
Lynette took the other chair in the room and sat down, her back straight, her serious gaze settling on him. “They’ve heard you called them a posse. They aren’t amused.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know what else to call them. And the last thing we need is for someone to get shot because we have a bunch of people out trying to hunt down the thieves.”
“Well, Tom Horton said they haven’t had any luck. He said if they are in one place, the thieves are on the opposite side of the county. As if they know.” Lynette relaxed a little, leaning back in the chair.
“That’s interesting. We need to let Lucy know so she can pass that on to the state and her deputies.” Carson steepled his fingers and let his gaze slide over the paperwork on his desk for a new sign. “I think the sign is a city government issue, not a league issue.”
“The league put the sign up to begin with,” Lynette informed him.
“I get that but I also know that the league can’t step on the toes of the mayor and town council. Maybe we should talk to them and see if they have plans to replace it. Or maybe to wait and see if we get it back.”
“I’ll have Ingrid call,” Lynette agreed. “Some folks in town are wondering if Amelia Klondike might be the one helping people out.”
“She could be,” Carson agreed. Other than the stolen cattle part. But he wouldn’t mention it again. People were looking for explanations and they were going to think what they wanted to think. Amelia did have money. And she seemed to be uncomfortable with keeping it all for herself.
She might buy cattle to help a neighbor. Or she could have just written him a check. People didn’t always want explanations that made sense.
Lynette stood. “I have to go see what Fred wants for dinner tonight. You boys stay out of trouble.”
He nodded and watched her go.
“Are we still teenagers?” Ben asked after she’d left the building.
“In her eyes we will always be kids. And some of us still do act...”
Ben shook his head. “Don’t you start. I’m not the one circling the Donovan place.”
“I’m not circling anything. Ruby is giving Brandon riding lessons.” Not that he needed to explain.
Ben, like others, didn’t want reasonable explanations.
“Of course that’s why you’re over there.” But then his smile faded. “What do you think about Derek?”
Carson shrugged. “I think the kid is clean and he’s doing his best. He’s been over at my place helping out.”
“And he’d have access to your—”
Carson held up a hand to stop the accusation before it could be fully verbalized. “Don’t. He has enough odds stacked against him.”
“Yeah, that’s true. So you’re taking him under your wing?”
“I’m doing what I can for him.”
Ben stood to leave. Or at least Carson hoped that’s what he meant to do. “Ruby is a catch, Carson. She always has been.”
With that, he left, and Carson didn’t have a chance to tell him to mind his own business.
Carson leaned back in his chair and rubbed both hands over his face. Man, he was tired. His life was eating him up, wearing him out. Too many irons in the fire, Iva had once told him. He hadn’t agreed back then, but he did now.
What he needed to do was go home and take a long ride. Not the kind of ride that included rounding up cattle, fixing fences and checking a herd.
He was afraid if he took that ride it would lead him down a nearly forgotten trail to the Donovan ranch and a section of fence he’d cut long ago to make a gate between their properties.
He glanced at his watch, reminding himself that he had to pick up Brandon. And that meant facing Ruby all over again.
Chapter Nine
The post office seemed to be the place to be on a Thursday midway through October. Ruby had a few bills to mail so she stood in the long line of customers. The lady at the front of the line, Miss Winters, a retired school teacher, was having a heart-to-heart with the postmistress, obviously not realizing a half-dozen people were behind her.
Ruby smiled at Henry Jepps, a neighbor to the east of the Donovan ranch. He inclined his head and touched a finger to the brim of his hat.
“How’s your granny doing, Ruby?” Henry asked as they stood there.
“She’s getting by, sir.”
“I reckon she is. Iva has always gotten by, hasn’t she? She’s one strong lady
. I remembered when, well, we don’t need to go back that far, do we?”
Ruby smiled at that. “She’s been through a lot.”
“She sure has.”
Miss Winters turned to leave the counter. She spotted Mr. Jepps. “Henry, did you hear that the Matherses’ place got hit? That’s getting a little too close to home.”
Henry looked at Ruby, an apologetic turn of his lips as he shook his head. “No, Ella Lee, I hadn’t heard that.”
“Well, it happened last night. And did you hear that Dora Peterson woke up this morning to ten round bales stacked up next to her barn? She said she won’t get through the winter without that hay. But she’s afraid to keep it for fear it’s stolen property. That’s a felony, keeping stolen property.”
The saddles. Ruby nearly groaned because she knew that Miss Winters must have heard about the saddles.
“There are ways to check and see if the property has been stolen, Miss Winters.” Ruby said it with a lighter tone than she’d believed possible. “Someone left saddles at my place, and they haven’t been reported stolen.”
“Well, that’s fortunate for you that something so needed has appeared at your place, Ruby.”
Mr. Jepps gave her an encouraging look before facing Miss Winters. “I’d say it was a blessing. Not only for Ruby, but for Dora. I can’t understand who would steal from their neighbors, but I have a healthy dose of respect for the person helping their neighbors.”
“There’s no such thing as a Robin Hood, Henry Jepps,” Miss Winters’s voice rose along with the color in her cheeks. “Stealing is wrong and helping neighbors doesn’t make it right.”
“I agree with that, but I don’t think anyone knows for sure that our thieves are Robin Hoods. The two circumstances haven’t been connected. They’re just happening at the same time.”
Miss Winters heaved a breath. “Well, I guess you do have a point. Give Mrs. Jepps my best. And Ruby, tell Iva I’m praying for her.”
A Reunion for the Rancher (Lone Star Cowboy League 1) Page 9
