Brazen

by Bobbi Smith

  "Sheriff Montgomery wasn't in his office, so I left word with his deputy about what happened," Harry explained as she joined them. "He said he'd send him right out when he got back."

  "Thank you, Harry."

  "If you need anything, let us know," Tom and Harry said, looking as if they wished there was something more they could do.

  "I will."

  After they left her time passed slowly for Elizabeth. Not for the first time in all the years she'd lived on the Circle D, she cursed the place. None of this would have happened if Frank had listened to her and moved back to Philadelphia as she'd wanted to do. Her family was there, and she and Frank would have been safe and happy in that civilized world. Now here she was, waiting in agony to hear if her husband was going to live or die all because someone had shot him down in cold blood.

  Tears filled her eyes. Frank was a strong man, a pow erful man. She loved him dearly, but she had never understood his passion for this ranch and this way of life. That was why she'd wanted Michael to go back East to college four years before. She'd wanted her son to know there was a bigger, more refined world out there beyond the Circle D and Hard Luck, Texas. Frank had been reluctant to let Michael go, but she had insisted.

  Elizabeth realized she would have to send one of the men into town to wire Michael as soon as she talked with Dr. Murray. Michael had just completed his studies, along with his cousin Nick, and they were scheduled to embark on a trip to Europe to celebrate very shortly. She wanted to get word to him of the shooting before they sailed. She needed Michael here with her.

  Nearly half an hour passed before Dr. Murray sought her out in the parlor. She got tiredly to her feet when the physician appeared in the doorway.

  "Is Frank going to be all right?" Elizabeth asked nervously, seeing his serious expression.

  Dr. Murray went to her. "I think you'd better sit down."

  Horror filled Elizabeth. She sank down on the sofa, and he joined her there.

  "Frank's not--?" she began, terrified.

  "No," he quickly reassured her. "He's regained consciousness. He's going to live."

  "Thank God." Tears of relief and joy welled up in her eyes.

  "But there is something you need to know," the doctor went on solemnly.

  "Yes?" Elizabeth was cautious, wondering why he was so grim after telling her such good news.

  "The gunshot wound was serious, very serious. It's left him paralyzed from the waist down."

  Elizabeth stared at the doctor in disbelief as she tried to grasp what he'd just revealed. "Frank is paralyzed?"

  "Yes."

  "But it's only temporary. He'll get better, won't he?"

  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Donovan, but no. He's not going to get better. Your husband will never walk again." Dr. Murray hated being the bearer of such tragic news, but he didn't want to give her any false hope. He waited a moment in silence, seeing her shock and giving her a moment to come to grips with what she'd learned. "Frank has been asking for you. Are you up to seeing him?"

  Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked with the doctor to the bedroom. She paused in the doorway to stare at her husband as he lay as pale as death on the bed.

  "Frank," she softly said.

  At the sound of her voice, Frank opened his eyes and turned his head slightly toward her. "Elizabeth-" It took all his strength just to say her name.

  She ran to the bedside crying and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek.

  "Send for Michael," he whispered hoarsely. "You must send for Michael."

  Philadelphia

  "So tomorrow is the big day," James Paden said with great pleasure as he went to the bar in his walnut-paneled study. "I think this deserves a drink in celebration."

  He poured healthy servings of whiskey into three crystal tumblers, then handed one to his son Nick and one to his nephew Michael Donovan. He took the third glass for himself and lifted it in a toast.

  "To you, Nick, and to you, Michael. Congratulations."

  Thank you, sir," they replied.

  They all took a drink.

  James smiled at the two young men who stood before him. He was proud of them and what they'd accomplished. They had graduated from the university and were ready to embark on their trip to the Continent.

  James's gaze settled approvingly on Michael. He'd been worried when his nephew had first arrived in Philadelphia four years earlier. Michael had been a roughand-tumble cowboy then, but no visible trace of his Western background remained now. Tall, darkly handsome, and perfectly well-groomed, Michael had matured into a polished gentleman and fit easily into sophisticated society. James knew that that had been his sister Elizabeth's hope when she'd sent him there to attend the university, and he was glad Michael had made the transformation so successfully.

  "I'm sure your mother and father are very proud of you, Michael. It's just a shame that they couldn't join us here for the ceremony."

  "It's a busy time on the ranch right now," Michael told him, fully understanding why his parents hadn't made the trip.

  "You plan to go see them when you get back from Europe, don't you?"

  "Yes. I'll go home for a visit then."

  "Good. Now, Nick has been to Europe before, so he'll be more than happy to show you the sights," James said, glancing over at his son and smiling.

  "I'm looking forward to it."

  "We're going to enjoy every minute," Nick said confidently.

  "I'm sure you will," his father agreed. "Michael, have you thought about what you want to do now that you are done with school? Do you want to return to ranching, or stay here with us?"

  Before Michael could answer, Nick put in, "He does have certain interests here, you know."

  "You do?" James looked at his nephew.

  "Karen Whittington, for one, Father," Nick finished.

  "Well, should you decide you want to stay on and work here in Philadelphia, there will always be a position open for you with Paden Shipping."

  "Thank you." Michael was honored by his uncle's offer.

  "As for Miss Whittington could do far worse," James went on thoughtfully. "Her family is quite affluent and very influential. Have you proposed to her yet?"

  "No," Michael answered quickly. He found Karen an attractive woman, but their relationship hadn't progressed that far. He wasn't sure it ever would.

  "Are you planning to see Karen again before we set sail?" Nick asked.

  "Yes, I'm meeting her later tonight."

  "I don't think she's happy that you're leaving."

  "She hasn't said anything-"

  "From what I know about Karen, I'm sure she would prefer you to stay right here in Philadelphia with her." Nick knew how spoiled the rich, beautiful blond debutante was, and he had cautioned his cousin about getting too involved with her. Karen had a reputation for being a very controlling young woman.

  "What about all your women?" Michael countered. "Do they know you're leaving?"

  Nick was one of the most sought-after bachelors in town. Many a mother had set her sights on him as potential husband material for her marriageable-age daughter. He had money and the Paden dark good looks, but he didn't see the logic in settling for just one woman, when he could have them all.

  Nick chuckled at his cousin's question. "They know. In fact, I was wondering who was going to show up to see us off."

  "Why don't you hire several carriages to transport all your admirers down to the station?"

  All three men laughed good-naturedly.

  A knock came at the study door, and the Padens' butler, Jonathan, came in.

  "This telegram just arrived for Michael, sir," Jonathan announced.

  Michael smiled as he took the telegram. He was certain it was from his parents, wishing him well on his trip. He tore open the envelope and quickly read the message.

  Nick watched him as he read, and he noticed how se rious Michael's expression became. "What's wrong?"

  Michael looked up at him, his eyes dark with worry. Any thought of going to E
urope had been instantly banished from his mind.

  "I have to go home." There was no uncertainty in his voice.

  "Why?"

  "My father's been injured."

  "What happened?" James asked worriedly.

  "I don't know the details. Mother didn't say. She only said he's been paralyzed." Michael frowned, trying to imagine his strong, vibrant father crippled.

  "What? Paralyzed?" James was shocked. "You've got to get back home at once."

  "And I'll go with you," Nick offered, ready to help Michael in any way he could.

  "But the trip to Europe-I can't ask you to give it up. I know how much you've been looking forward to going."

  "You didn't ask me to give up the trip. I just offered. Besides, that's what family is for. I'm going to Texas with you. You might need me."

  Michael smiled in appreciation of his cousin's support. "I'll check at the train depot right away and see how soon we can depart."

  "How long will it take us to get there?"

  "Depending on connections, it could take a week, maybe longer, to reach Hard Luck."

  "Then we'd better get going."

  "Do you need any money?" James offered.

  "No, Uncle James, but thanks."

  "Is there anything your Aunt Sarah and I can do to help?"

  Michael looked up at him. "Just pray."

  The Bar T Ranch

  "Race you back to the house!" Casey called out as she put her heels to her mount's sides.

  Her horse bolted into action. They galloped off, leaving Pete Stuart, the foreman on the Bar T, standing in a cloud of dust.

  "You're on!" Pete hollered. He swung up into his saddle and charged after her.

  Casey was smiling as she leaned low over Raven's neck, moving as one with the animal. She enjoyed the feel of the wind in her face and the sense that they were almost flying. Pete had been bragging about how fast his new horse Lightning was, and she was determined to show him Raven was still the best on the Bar T.

  They tore across the countryside, Pete and Lightning trailing slightly behind. As the ranch came into view, Casey could tell he was gaining on her, but she wasn't about to give up. She urged Raven on, and they raced up to the stable in a cloud of dust, victorious.

  Some of the ranch hands saw them coming and were cheering her on.

  Casey reined in abruptly and was laughing in exhilaration when Pete caught up to her moments later.

  "I told you Raven was the best!" she declared proudly.

  "You may have won this time, but you had a head start," Pete countered.

  "I won. That's all that matters," Casey insisted.

  "Winning is everything to you, isn't it?"

  "That's right," she said, still grinning at him as she dismounted and stroked her stallion's neck adoringly.

  George, one of the hands, came to take Raven from her.

  "Thanks." She handed the reins to him, then glanced up toward the house. She was surprised to see a horse tied up out front.

  "Who's up at the house with Pa?" she asked.

  "I don't know. I was busy working and didn't see anybody ride in," George answered as he led Raven away.

  "I guess I'd better find out what's going on." It wasn't often they had company.

  "You go on for now, but we're going to race again," Pete insisted, dismounting.

  "Why would you want to lose to me twice?" Casey asked with good-humored arrogance as she started off toward the house.

  Pete chuckled to himself as he watched Casey go. She was one helluva female. He knew the boss regretted not having a son, but Casey had proven herself time and again to be as good as any man when it came to riding and shooting. Pete respected her gumption and her abilities. He even respected her decision to dress like one of the hands in pants, shirts and boots when she was working on the ranch. She was a woman who knew her own mind. He was still smiling as he turned back to tend to Lightning. She won today, but he would have his rematch.

  "Where were you early yesterday afternoon, Jack?" Sheriff Montgomery asked, eyeing the stocky, middle-aged rancher suspiciously as they stood face-to-face in the parlor of the Bar T ranch house. The bad blood between the Turners and the Donovans was common knowledge, and that put Jack Turner at the top of the list of people Montgomery needed to check out regarding Frank Donovan's shooting. Not that he had any proof Jack was involved. When he'd ridden out to the Circle D the day before to speak with the wounded rancher, Frank had had no idea who'd ambushed him.

  "Where do you think I was? I was out working my stock," Jack replied sarcastically. "Shouldn't you be back in Hard Luck enforcing the law? What do you want with me?"

  Montgomery ignored Jack's questions. "You got any witnesses who can vouch for you?"

  "Ask my men. They can tell you." His gaze narrowed as he looked at the sheriff.

  "I'll do just that," Montgomery told him as he started from the house to seek out the ranch hands.

  "Wait a minute, Sheriff," Jack growled harshly, and he was gratified when the lawman stopped and looked back at him. "What's this all about?"

  The sheriff looked him straight in the eye as he answered, "Somebody shot Frank Donovan yesterday."

  "What?"

  "You heard me. He was shot in the back, robbed and left for dead."

  Jack frowned. Tm not denying I've got no use for Donovan, but 1 didn't shoot him."

  "I'm just going to make sure of that."

  "How is he?" Jack asked, following him.

  "He's alive," was all Montgomery answered as they left the house.

  "Sheriff Montgomery?" Casey was startled as she came face-to-face with him on the front porch.

  "Miss Turner." He nodded to her but kept walking toward the corral where Pete and some of the other men were working.

  Casey looked at her father as the sheriff moved off. "Pa? What is he doing here?"

  Jack was disgusted as he quickly explained what he'd learned.

  "And the sheriff thinks you did it?" she asked, both shocked and worried.

  "Pete and the boys will tell him where I was. There's nothing to worry about."

  "I hope not."

  They waited together on the porch, watching as Sheriff Montgomery spoke at length with the men. When the sheriff started back toward the house, Pete came with him.

  "Are you satisfied now, Sheriff?" Jack asked angrily.

  "Your men covered for you, if that's what you're asking, Jack," he replied.

  "We didn't have to cover for him," Pete said in his boss's defense. "We told you the truth. There's no reason to lie. Jack was with us all day yesterday."

  Sheriff Montgomery mounted up and nodded to them. "I'll be seeing you."

  Jack felt bile rise in his throat as he watched the lawman ride away. "Bastard."

  "What did you say, Pa?"

  "Nothing."

  "Are you all right?" Casey asked, seeing that he had grown pale.

  "I'm as fine as I can be, considering the sheriff just accused me of shooting Frank Donovan down in cold blood and robbing him."

  "He knows you didn't do it now," Pete reassured him. "We told him."

  "That's right, Pa. Everything's all right."

  Jack moved slowly toward the stable. "Then let's get back to work."

  John McQueen was furious as he stormed into the bunkhouse at his ranch, the Royal.

  The men lounging there looked up, startled.

  "Boss?"

  "Get out," he ordered, his gaze focusing on the one man who lay asleep on his cot, an empty whiskey bottle on the floor beside him.

  The men quickly disappeared outside, leaving him alone with Sid. They didn't know what Sid had done, but it had to be bad to get the boss this riled.

  John stared down at the man who was passed out in a drunken stupor.

  "Celebrating, were you?" he snarled as he picked up the small bucket of water sitting near the washstand and dumped the contents in the unconscious man's face.

  Sid Midland sat up with a start, choki
ng on the water and cussing wildly, only to find himself staring down the barrel of his boss's gun. Sid's bloodshot eyes widened in shock, for he knew how deadly and dangerous his boss could be.

  "What the-"

  "I don't pay you to miss, Sid!" he said in a low, threatening voice. He had hired the fellow because of his reputation as a gunman.

  "Miss? What are you talking about?"

  "Donovan is still alive!"

  "Oh, yes." He stepped back and slowly holstered his weapon. "You told me he was dead. You told me-"

  Sid interrupted him to protest, "I went down and robbed him just like you said. He wasn't moving!"

  "He wasn't moving because he's paralyzed, but he isn't dead. When I send you out to do a job for me, I expect you to do it right."

  "You want me to go finish it?"

  "No," John answered harshly. "You just lay low and keep your mouth shut. I'll handle it from here."

  John stalked from the bunkhouse in complete disgust. He'd had a plan ready to set in motion. With Frank Donovan out of the way, it would have been simple for him to take over the Circle D.The newly widowed Elizabeth Donovan, alone and without any man to guide her, would have been eager to sell out. He would have been just as eager to offer his sympathy as he bought the ranch, which Frank had refused to sell to him when he'd made an offer several months before. Now, word had come from town that Frank was still alive, and everything had changed.

  Silently John cursed Sid again as he began to rethink his plan for gaining control of the neighboring ranches. His goal was to be the biggest, most successful rancher in this part of Texas, and nothing was going to stop him.

  As he considered his situation, John realized it was time to concentrate on the Bar T instead of the Circle D.He had had his eye on Casey Turner. She was different from any other female he'd ever met. Just the sight of her wearing those pants of hers left him hot with wanting. He had been taking his time with her, wooing her slowly, but now that his plan for the Circle D had been ruined, he would concentrate on Casey and her ranch.

  The Turners' finances were so shaky, Casey might just marry him for his money. One way or the other, the Bar T-and Casey be his.

  Michael stared out the window of the train car, wondering if it were possible for time to pass any more slowly. He and Nick had been traveling for three days now, and it had seemed an eternity to him.