Love of a Cowboy 1

by Paige Tyler

  Evidently Taos had decided not to continue with the subject of his sister for a moment. Instead he said, “I think you should take a good look at the ranch. It’s a nice spread along the Arkansas River and it would be a good place to buy.”

  “Buy?” Morgan glanced over in surprise, but then thought maybe he shouldn’t be all that surprised. Taos, his brother, Keno, and his sisters owned the ranch now, and the Dusty Trails Saloon. Keno had never been interested in ranching. He ran the saloon and preferred that, as well as gambling. And Taos had been talking about finally using his legal training and starting his own law practice in Dodge City.

  Taos guided his horse around a deep rut in the dirt road and then tipped his hat at one of the dancers smiling at him outside of the Lady Gay Dance Hall. “I know you don’t want to go back to Texas when you decide to turn in your badge. You’ve talked about breeding horses. Our ranch would be a good place to do that.”

  Morgan’s gut churned. Turn in his badge. Settle down. Here. “Talking big, that’s all it was.” Damn tempting offer, though.

  “I think you could do it. Especially with Whiskey at your side.” Taos spotted the telegraph office and headed for it. “Speaking of my sister. I need to go send that telegram.”

  Pulling on the reins, Morgan turned back toward the Lady Gay. “I need a drink, bad. That bath and a shave can wait a spell.”

  Taos looked back and said, “Do some thinking, too. About the ranch. I can always find someone else to sell it to if you’re not…”

  The words were out of Morgan’s mouth before he could stop them. “I want it.” He frowned in disgust with himself and headed for the saloon. “Damn.” Evidently he really was thinking about giving up his badge, about settling down in one place, about planning to take another woman for his wife.

  God help him. No, God help them both.

  *

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  Whiskey stood with hands on hips staring at the basket of her aunt’s balloon in the barn. It had been months since their last short ballooning adventure. She’d liked the feeling of freedom, liked how it seemed she had controlled her fate.

  She thought of the crumpled telegram in her pocket. It had arrived the day before. Now she pondered murder. Make that murders, of both her interfering brothers.

  “What are you doing, Sweetling?” her Aunt Mae asked, limping up next to her. Her bones were clearly aching again.

  “Are you real fond of my brothers?” Whiskey asked. “I mean real fond? Because I’m contemplating their demise.”

  Mae chuckled, her double chin bobbing. “There have been a few times when I doubted they had a full head of sense between them.” She shook her head knowingly. “Like now. But I would miss them, dear, should you decide to do them in.”

  Whiskey ran a hand over the side of the basket. “They would deserve it. Promising to sell my share of the ranch without even asking me.” She pounded the basket edge with her balled up fist. “To that U.S. Marshal friend of theirs.”

  “Morgan Rydell.” Mae looked thoughtful. “I met him once. A hard man, dangerous I hear. But he’s been a loyal partner and friend to Taos for a long time.”

  Whiskey, too, remembered the big Texan she’d walked in on one day back home, walked in and found him in nothing but his long johns. Oh yes, she’d thought about that encounter more than once. He was a man of few words, even fewer smiles—or so Taos had once told her. And he had a deadly reputation with a gun, which meant there would always be someone looking to take him on, wanting to make a name for himself.

  Ace had been fast, too, but not fast enough.

  Her heart hurt.

  She shoved the painful thoughts aside. “Those scoundrels also ordered me back home by the end of this month.”

  “You had been talking about—”

  “My idea! My decision as to when and why.” Tears burned her eyes. “I am not selling my share! But I am going back home. To stake Keno and Taos out on the prairie, to let the sun bake them, to let the rattlers do their worst.”

  When she glanced at her aunt, she found her smiling. “You have every right to be annoyed with them.”

  Whiskey snorted as a breeze swept around them and smells of musky hay and dirt drifted up in the warm air. “I’m a damn lot more than ‘annoyed with them.’ Damn their worthless hides!”

  Her aunt’s immediate raised eyebrow warned her to control her choice of words. She’d had her mouth washed out with soap more than once since she’d come to stay here. She’d even been spanked a time or two for one reason or another. She had the worst temper in the family and sometimes she paid the consequences for letting it loose in front of the wrong person.

  “Sorry. They’ve just pushed me too far this time.” She tromped down her anger with them, or tried to. “I’ve worked hard here, with you, learning all these animal doctoring skills. I’ve been planning to use them on the ranch…our ranch. And then I hoped to convince the community to let me take care of their animals as well.”

  “I thought you had been considering that. You’re wonderful with horses, dear, even cattle.” Mae looked out the doorway toward the corral and two of the battered animals they had adopted this last year: a one-eyed mule named Taos because of his stubbornness and a hat-munching camel named Keno. “With other animals, too.”

  She followed her aunt’s gaze and knew she couldn’t leave these special two “pets” behind when she went back to Kansas. She would have to figure out a way to take them with her.

  “You know I’ve had a difficult time getting my neighbors to trust me with doctoring…”

  “But they do now.” Whiskey smiled. “I’m patient. I’ll eventually bring people around.”

  Her aunt chortled. “Patient! Honey, you don’t have a patient bone in your body.”

  Whiskey pursed her lips in annoyance, huffed, knowing that was pretty much true.

  “You’ve got many other good qualities, though,” Mae soothed. “Everyone I know has come to love you, and they’re all going to miss having you here. Almost as much as I will.”

  Whiskey didn’t want to get into the whole “missing” issue because she would miss her aunt a lot. But her life wasn’t really here. They both knew that.

  She went back to the matter that frustrated her. “I love the ranch, always have. More than any of my family does. I’ve known for several years now that neither Keno nor Taos want to stay there much longer. I had hoped to convince them to sell me their shares. I know Brandy would.”

  Mae started to respond but Whiskey barreled on with her thoughts. “They know how I feel about the ranch. And they must know that I’ll never agree to sell my share. Which means they’re going to force me to be partners with Morgan Rydell. Not damn likely! No damn way!”

  Again her aunt frowned in disapproval. Again Whiskey reined in her temper. She detested the taste of her aunt’s soap.

  “It appears I’ll have to go home and do battle with three idiot men. As sure as the sun shines in the east every morning, I’m going to convince that marshal to not buy into the ranch.”

  She looked across the farmyard at the mule standing close to his good friend the camel. Morgan, the skunk—aptly named, she thought—without the ability to ward off enemies by spraying them with nose-wrinkling perfume, scurried under the corral fence. He waddled over to lie down in the patch of shade his bigger friends created. Such an odd trio, but she loved them dearly. She especially enjoyed the names she’d chosen for them, fitting names for each one.

  “Since I’ll be traveling by train… Well, I can take them all with me. If you don’t care, that is.”

  “You can’t travel that far in a boxcar.” Her aunt looked worried, intrigued at the same time.

  “Sure I can.” Already she was thinking about what else she could take with her in that kind of space.

  “Your brothers will have a conniption fit,” Mae said with a chuckle.

  Whiskey beamed. They would and that made the plan even more appealing. She decided to go a
step further. “About your balloon…”

  Mae’s eyes widened and she turned toward the gas balloon that had served well during the War Between the States when it had been used to deliver messages. It had been a gift from one of her aunt’s beaus a number of years ago. She’d only flown it a half dozen times since then, twice with Whiskey. “Your brothers—”

  “They will absolutely hate it. Yes, I know.” She reached out to lovingly touch the basket. “You’ll never use it again, will you? And I’d really like to have it, at least borrow it.”

  “No, no I doubt I’ll ever take it up again.” Mae looked thoughtful. “You’re already better at flying the balloon than I ever was. Still…” She drew in a breath and nodded. “You may take it.”

  Whiskey did a little dance of excitement. “Wonder if I’ll be able to convince the train conductor to let me out with the balloon in Spearville, the town just north of Dodge City?” She knew she could be persuasive when she really wanted something…well, except sometimes with her brothers. “Oh, I’m sure I can convince him.”

  Her mind spun with details as she studied the nearby folded up balloon envelope and stack of rigging. She needed to drag it all out and make sure the pieces and parts were still there. And she needed to make sure there was still some gas in the container, at least enough for a short ride.

  “You’re not… you’re not thinking about flying into town?” Mae gaped at her, shocked, and then amused. “Your brothers will definitely have fits.” She laughed, grinning. “I almost wish I could see their reactions.”

  Whiskey just smiled.

  Chapter Two

  Dodge City, Kansas

  June 1878

  Whiskey gripped the edge of the basket made of woven willow branches and the valve line at the same time. She hazarded a glance over the side. Dodge City was finally well within sight. She pulled on the line to open the valve and release another spurt of flame, which in turn sent more hot air into the balloon envelope. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Her stomach swirled with nerves. It felt like she hadn’t been home in a very long time, like she was a completely different person. She knew her mind now, knew what she wanted with her life.

  Every couple of minutes, she continued the process of opening the valve and forcing hot air into the envelope to keep her altitude. She had done this ever since she’d started the short flight back in Spearville, Kansas, much to the amazement and delight of the train’s passengers. At the time she’d gone up and begun her flight it had seemed like great fun. In truth it was a lot of hard work. Her arms ached from the constant exertion with the valve. Her hair—while tied back in a long braid—was a mess. Strands had worked loose and the braid itself continually whipped around and hit her. She was more than ready to land and plant her feet on solid ground.

  The sporadic wind picked up speed, jostled the balloon and jerked her nearly off her feet. Her head snapped in reaction; every part of her body cried out in misery. She couldn’t recall having had all this trouble before, but then she hadn’t flown alone. Evidently the task of flying a balloon was much easier with two people involved. Something to remember next time.

  If there would be a next time.

  If her brothers didn’t cart her beloved balloon off somewhere and burn it to dust.

  Her brothers. They would not be pleased with this little adventure, with her not using the train ticket they’d sent her. Well, in a way she had. She had traded it in—and paid extra—to use a box car on the Atchison, Topeka, Santa Fe train instead of riding in one of the passenger cars. But she didn’t care if they weren’t happy with her. She was not happy with them! No sir. Not one little bit. They had a lot of dang nerve deciding to sell the ranch to that low-down, mangy U.S. Marshal friend of Taos’! Selling all but her share, which she would never ever sell, that is.

  Morgan the skunk cringed at her feet and gave what sounded like a whimper. He had somehow scampered out of the box car and made it clear that he intended to stay with her no matter what mode of transportation she chose. But now it was plain that balloon flying would not be in his future.

  She looked over the side again and found the buildings of Front Street much closer. The train, which had remained in Spearville long after she’d taken flight, was puffing closer as well. She sucked in a steadying breath and went into action. Landing a balloon was tricky business and working with the different winds took a lot of concentration.

  *

  Morgan swore he would rather crawl bare-assed naked across the desert than go into town today. Standing in the shade of the barn with Demon saddled and fidgeting, he took a long draw on the cigarette he’d just rolled. Where the hell was Taos?

  Sweat trickled down his back and he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the shirt glued to his skin. Damn late June day was hotter than a cathouse. He squinted into the sun. Still no sign of his friend. Another minute or two and he’d find something better to do. Like patching that fence in need of repair or replacing the wheel on the ranch wagon. There were a lot of chores that he could be helping the hands with instead of taking time to traipse into Dodge…to fetch Whiskey.

  His gut churned. They’d gotten her wire a couple of days ago saying she would arrive on today’s afternoon train. He wasn’t jumping up-and-down eager to see her. Taos was, though. Keno, too. But they were planning on handing her over to him, as his wife. Wife! He still had nightmares about that notion. ‘Course they hadn’t actually told her about their plan yet, so maybe there was a chance it wouldn’t happen. Maybe his nightmares would end.

  “Ready to go?” Taos strode from behind the house and headed for the corral by the barn. His horse was already saddled and Morgan hadn’t even noticed it happen.

  “Where the blazes have you been?” he grouched, tossing down his cigarette and stomping it with the toe of his boot. He guided Demon over to the corral.

  Taos mounted and snapped back, “I was doing some last minute needlework. What did you think?”

  He rode out of the corral and stopped to latch the gate. “I had some personal business to take care of. Besides, I figured you were not all that excited about heading into town so quickly. Guessed wrong it appears.” He grinned up at Morgan. “Maybe you are anxious to bring your sweet little bride-to-be back to the ranch after all.”

  Morgan curled his lip, which only made Taos chuckle. “If we’re gonna go, then let’s go.”

  They started down the ranch road in silence. Finally Taos said, “I’m looking forward to seeing Whiskey again. We shouldn’t have let her stay down in Arkansas so long sulking. The ranch doesn’t feel right when she’s not here.”

  “Mourning. She’s been mourning losing that deputy she’d planned to marry.” Morgan still wondered what had kept them from marrying. Taos had said something about Ace having kept putting off a wedding date, that he and Keno had not pressed the younger man about it. Still, why hadn’t she pressed the matter? He had always thought women were eager to get hitched. It didn’t make sense to him that the young deputy hadn’t been damn anxious to take that sassy minx to wife and to bed her as soon as he could manage it. He could only imagine what all that fire in bed…

  He stiffened, horrified about what he’d been thinking. He scowled as he looked ahead at the knee-high grass blowing in the breeze, at the worn dirt path heading into Dodge City. “I thought you told me the other day that it felt nice and peaceful around the ranch.” He’d hoped it could stay that way for a much longer spell than this.

  Taos chuckled. “Yes, but not right. Whiskey has a way of… I don’t know… a way of adding spirit to a place. You’ll see.”

  Spirit. Morgan remembered each and every tale of trouble both Taos and Keno had shared with him since he’d come to the ranch a couple of weeks ago. She drove them crazy sometimes. Yet they loved her dearly. He couldn’t remember ever being loved like that. Certainly not by his father…and not by Sarah. He damn sure didn’t think he was capable of giving that kind of love. Oh he’d believed himself in love when
he’d taken her to wife, but as time went on, he knew he hadn’t loved her.

  He reached up to mop the sweat from his brow with the back of his shirt sleeve. He didn’t think he wanted to spend the next twenty or more years dealing with a woman who would try his patience. There were enough problems in his life already. And he sure didn’t have much patience.

  In spite of the number of times they’d discussed the matter, he asked again, “How come you’re so all-fired set on me marrying Whiskey? Why not that twin of hers, Brandy?” He hadn’t heard nearly the “horror” stories about Brandy.

  Taos looked over at him and shook his head. “You would scare the boning right out of Brandy’s corsets. She’s a bit on the prim and proper side. Quiet.”

  “Quiet would be all right with me. I could even get used to prim and proper.” Not that he wanted a wife he probably would be able to walk all over, frighten when he got a tad grouchy—which happened from time to time.

  “Trust me. It’s Whiskey that will make you a good wife.” Taos grinned and rode a little happier in the saddle. “You’re lucky I chose you for her husband.”

  A gust of wind threatened to whip the Stetson from Morgan’s head. Dirt swirled and blew over them. He grimaced as he wiped off the new layer of dust from his black trousers. Then he sneezed and cursed the day, cursed the fact that he’d agreed to marry Whiskey.

  “I’ve been thinking about Tyler,” he said after a few minutes. Hell he thought about his son all the time, ached with missing him, ached even more knowing the boy was better off without him. “It’s been nearly a year since I last saw him. I’m one sorry father. You ought to want a better man than me for your sister.”

  Taos rode up beside him and scowled. “You could be a damn good father, if you would give yourself and that boy a chance. You’ve run scared from the commitment for too long.”