by Bobbi Smith
"We'll get there," said Nick, who was sitting beside him.
"I know, it's just a matter of when," Michael said flatly.
Nick wanted to reassure him that everything would be all right, that he shouldn't worry, but he couldn't. There was no way for them to know what was happening with his father.
"Have you thought about what you're going to do once you get there? Is your mother going to need you to stay on at the ranch now that your father's so seriously injured?"
"It will all depend on my father. He'd never leave the Circle D of his own free will, but if he can't physically run things anymore-"
"It would fall to you."
"Yes."
"And will you stay?"
Nick had asked the question that had been haunting Michael ever since he'd received the telegram.
Michael frowned. "I don't know. Philadelphia has been home for a long time now. I'll just have to see what happens once we get to the ranch."
Both men fell silent as they tried to anticipate what they would face when they finally reached their destination. Nick hoped things weren't going to be as bad as they feared.
Hard Luck, Texas
"So this is Hard Luck," Nick said as he got his first look at the town. Hot, dry and dusty, it was certainly a far cry from the sophistication of Philadelphia. He was accustomed to paved streets, brick buildings and greenery. It looked like he was about to learn a whole new way of life. He had a good idea how Hard Luck must have gotten its name, for some of the buildings definitely looked as if they'd seen better days.
Nick had come on this trip to help Michael. He wouldn't have had it any other way, but he had to smile at the realization that if things had gone as planned, they would have been standing on the deck of a ship, gazing out to sea as they sailed for Europe right now, not staring out a stagecoach window at this town he wasn't quite sure was civilized.
"Yes, this is it," Michael told him, watching out his side as they passed the general store, the hotel and the jail. Nothing seemed to have changed in the years he'd been away. The town still looked pretty much the same, although a little more run-down. It felt good to be thereto be home he felt a pang of regret that his homecoming wasn't for a happier reason.
The stagecoach slowed as it neared the stage depot. When it finally drew to a stop, Michael was the first to climb down. Now that they were so close to the Circle D, he was growing more anxious to get home.
"How long will it take to get out to the ranch?" Nick asked as he joined Michael in the street.
"About an hour by buckboard," he answered. "I'll rent one down at the stable so we can take our trunks with us."
"Let's go. It's been too long for you already. We need to get you home."
Leaving their trunks at the depot for the time being, they started off.
"Did you get him all fixed up?" Casey asked Fitz as she returned to the stable to get her buckboard. She'd come into town for supplies, and on the way in, one of the horses had thrown a shoe. She'd had to bide her time while Fitz took care of it for her.
"You're all set," Fitz told her, pointing to where he'd left the horse tied up. "You need any help?" Knowing Casey's pride, he doubted she'd accept his aid, but he thought he'd offer.
"I can do it," Casey told him as she paid him for his work.
She got her horse and led him out in front to the buckboard to hitch him up again.
Michael and Nick made their way through Hard Luck, heading toward the stable.
"I think I'm going to need a change of clothes," Nick remarked with wry humor, noticing how some of the townsfolk were staring at them. The gentlemanly suits and ties they'd worn on the trip were common dress back East, but they certainly made the two young men stand out in Hard Luck.
Michael chuckled. "That makes two of us. Right now, everybody's wondering who the two Eastern dudes are."
"You don't recognize anybody?"
"No, not yet, but--"
"Michael? Is that you?"
Michael heard a man call out from behind them. He stopped and turned to see the tall, dignified, gray-haired pastor of their church, Reverend Harris, hurrying their way.
"Hello, Reverend," he greeted him.
They shook hands. Michael quickly introduced the pastor to Nick, and they exchanged greetings.
"It's good you're home." The minister looked back at Michael. His mood turned serious now that the pleasantries were over. "I know your mother will be relieved. She needs you here with her now than ever. I was just out at the Circle D, looking in on your parents yesterday afternoon."
"How is my father?"
Reverend Harris shook his head sadly. "It's painful to see him this way. He was such a vibrant man."
"How did it happen?" Michael asked. He had assumed his father's injuries had been sustained in an accident.
The reverend looked shocked that Michael was unaware of the shooting. "You don't know?"
"Know what?" Michael knew instantly that something was wrong, very wrong.
Reverend Harris realized there was no way to avoid telling Michael what had happened, so he told him everything he knew.
"My father was ambushed and robbed?" Michael repeated, stunned.
"Yes."
"Who did it?"
"No one knows. Sheriff Montgomery has been investigating, but he hasn't made an arrest yet."
"Who's this Montgomery? What happened to Sheriff Johnson?" When Michael had left Hard Luck, Sheriff Johnson had been the law in town for as long as he could remember.
"He moved on. Sheriff Montgomery has been on the job for about two years now."
"I think I'd better pay the sheriff a visit before I go home."
"If you need anything, anything at all, just send word."
"I will. Thanks, Reverend."
Michael looked at Nick after the minister left them.
"The stabled down at the end of the street," he directed, his mood even darker now. "Why don't you see about renting a buckboard for us while I talk to the sheriff? I'll meet you there."
"All right," Nick agreed.
Michael started to hurry off.
"Michael"
He glanced back at his cousin.
"Why would anyone shoot Uncle Frank?" Nick realized his first impression of Hard Luck had probably been accurate. This place wasn't civilized.
"That's what I intend to find out." He looked grim and determined as he walked away.
Nick went on to the stable. The faster they got their trunks loaded up, the faster they could ride out to the ranch.
Michael strode straight into the sheriffs office. He walked in to find a dark-haired, mustachioed man sitting at the desk, the sheriffs badge pinned to his vest.
"Sheriff Montgomery?"
The lawman glanced up questioningly at the welldressed stranger. "I'm Montgomery. What can I do for you?"
"I'm Michael Donovan. I just got into town on the stage."
The sheriff stood up to shake hands with him. "It's good to meet you. Your mother told me she'd sent for you."
The power of Michael's handshake and the hard look he saw in the young man's eyes told Sheriff Montgomery all he needed to know. Michael might be dressed like a gent, but he was Frank Donovan's son.
"I came as quickly as I could. What happened to my father? What do you know about the shooting?"
"Very little," Sheriff Montgomery told him regretfully.
"You don't have any idea who did it?"
"No. I checked out Jack Turner. I know he and your father have no love for one another, but old man Turner has a solid alibi for the time when your father was shot."
"How did it happen?"
"He was ambushed on Circle D land, shot in the back. He didn't see a thing. I checked the scene of the shooting, but I couldn't find any clues. There's nothing left for me to go on. Other than your pa's ongoing troubles with Turner, he didn't have any enemies we know of. He hadn't had any run-ins with anyone lately, and I haven't had any other reports of robberies happen
ing this way."
It infuriated Michael to think someone could come this close to murdering his father and get away with it. "We've got to find the man who did this."
"Yes. We do," the lawman agreed. He was frustrated by his lack of progress in the case. "I'll let you know if I learn anything new or hear anything around town."
"I'd appreciate it."
"And you let me know if you come up with anything that will help me make an arrest."
"I will."
Michael turned and walked out of the office. His mood was solemn as he made his way to the stable to meet Nick.
There was a youth harnessing a horse out in front of the stable when Nick walked up, and he assumed the boy worked there.
"Boy," Nick called out. "Could you tell me who I need to speak to, to rent a buckboard?"
Nick was puzzled when the youth ignored his request. He walked up to him to get his attention.
"Excuse me. I was told I could-" Nick stopped in midsentence as the "boy" turned to face him and he realized his mistake. "You're a..."
"What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a girl wearing pants before?" Casey asked, grinning as she took off her hat, freeing the tumble of dark curls she'd stuffed up under it while she worked.
"Actually, no, I haven't," Nick answered, returning her smile. He realized she was quite an attractive female with her dark hair and flashing green eyes. True, her state of dress shirt, pants and boots shocked him for a moment, but he already was coming to appreciate the style as he let his gaze sweep over her.
"Well, come to think of it, I've never seen a man wearing a suit quite like yours before, either, so I guess we're even." She eyed him up and down just as openly as he'd observed her and had to admit he was handsome in a slick sort of way.
Nick's smile broadened at her quick wit. He liked her immediately. If all the girls in Hard Luck were like this one, he knew he was in for some interesting times. "I like the way you're dressed, and I'm sorry I mistook you for a boy. I do apologize."
"It's not the first time it's happened to me, and I appreciate your apology. My name's Casey Turner, by the way."
"And I'm Nick Paden."
"You're obviously real new in town."
"Yes, I just arrived on the stage. That's why I came here to the stable. I need to rent a buckboard."
"I can't help you with that. You need to talk to Fitz." Casey directed. "He's the owner. You'll find him inside."
"Thanks." He started on.
"Any time. And Paden---"
Nick turned and met her gaze.
"Welcome to Hard Luck," Casey said as she put her hat back on and climbed up into the buckboard. She took up the reins and drove off, giving him a nod and a smile as she went.
Nick watched Casey go, impressed by the expert way she handled the team of horses. He smiled to himself. He had known coming to Texas would be an adventure, and it had started already.
Nick made up his mind to ask Michael how many females in Hard Luck wore pants. This custom was certainly a far cry from what he was used to at home, and he thought he might just come to like it.
He went to seek out Fitz in the stable.
Casey drove to Lawson's General Store and tied up out front. She went inside to pick up the supplies she needed and was delighted to find her best friend, Anne, working behind the counter.
"I was hoping I'd get to see you today," Casey told her.
Anne's father, Gus Lawson, owned the store, and she often helped out there, as did her mother.
"I'm glad to see you, too," Anne said, coming out from behind the counter to give her a hug. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too."
"What have you been doing?"
"Working. There isn't much time for anything else these days."
"Is it true the talk we heard of the sheriff questioning your pa about the Donovan shooting?"
"Yes," Casey answered, her eyes flashing with anger at the memory of the lawman's unfounded accusation. "He came right out and asked Pa where he'd been at the time of the shooting. It's a good thing Pa was working with the hands that day or there's no telling what might have happened."
"Yes, it is," Anne agreed. "Did he come to town with you?"
"No, I came in by myself to pick up supplies. I had to stop at the stable, though, and while I was there, I met a very interesting gentleman."
"A gentleman? In Hard Luck?" Anne was surprised and curious. "Who was he?"
"His name was Nick Paden, and he was fresh off the stage from back East. You should have seen him. He was all dressed up and real handsome, too an Eastern dandy."
"I wonder who he came to see."
"He didn't say. He was more interested in the fact that I was wearing pants."
Anne smiled wryly at her. "He may be a gentleman on the outside, but he doesn't sound much different from any of the other men around here. I see how they all watch you whenever you're in town, and I've heard their talk."
"Well, I'm glad I give them something to talk about," Casey said jokingly as she took out her list.
"You're impossible," her friend teased.
"Pa tells me that all the time."
They laughed easily together and started to pick out the supplies she needed.
"Michael! You're back!" Fitz came out of the stable to greet him.
"Hello, Fitz." Michael shook hands with the heavyset stable owner.
"I'm sorry about your pa," Fitz sympathized. "Tell him I'm thinking of him."
"I will."
"You back home to stay?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"Well, it's good to see you. You need anything else, just let me know."
"I will. We'll get the buckboard back to probably tomorrow," Michael told him as they climbed up to the driver's bench. He took up the reins.
"That'll be fine. I know I can trust you."
They left the stable, stopping only at the telegraph office to wire Nick's father that they had arrived safely and then at the stage depot to load their trunks. That done, Michael was more than ready to head home.
so it was you," John McQueen said as he came inside Lawson's store. "I thought I saw you."
"Why, John Casey responded as she looked up from where she was standing talking with Anne to see the handsome rancher walking their way.
John greeted Anne. He found the blond, shapely Anne attractive, but Casey was the one he was really interested in. "This is a pleasant surprise, Casey. Whatever brought you in to Hard Luck today was good luck for me."
Casey laughed at him. "You are such a charmer, John McQueen."
"I try," he returned.
Anne couldn't believe Casey's luck. John was the most eligible bachelor in these parts and quite good-looking. He never flirted with her that way. She moved off to wait on another customer, giving them some time alone.
John was glad for the moment of privacy with Casey. He gave her his undivided attention and smiled down at her with his most ingratiating smile. "1 wanted to tell you what a nice time I had with you at the box dinner."
"I had a good time, too, John. It isn't often I get to socialize that way."
"I'd like to see more of you," John told her. He kept his tone cordial, but his thoughts were on how much of her he really wanted to see. He loved that she wore those pants, but imagining her without them excited him even more.
"That would be nice."
"I'll try to come by the Bar T for a visit."
"I'm sure Pa would be glad to see you."
"What about you?"
"It's always good to see you, John," she assured him, completely unaware of the direction of his thoughts. She considered him only a neighbor.
When Anne returned to join them, John made his excuses and left.
Anne was smiling in delight over what had transpired. "My, my, my! Is John McQueen really courting you? How often have you been seeing him?"
"Anne-" Casey was embarrassed. "John's not courting me."
"You want to bet?"
>
"We just happened to eat together at the social at church, and he was telling me he had a nice time. That's all."
"He came in here just to talk with you, Casey Turner," Anne pointed out. "There are a lot of girls in Hard Luck who would give anything to have John seek them out that way."
"Then those other girls must live very pitiful, boring lives," Casey said, dismissing her friend's insinuation.
"Don't you like John?"
"John's nice enough."
"Only `nice enough'?" her friend challenged. "In case you hadn't noticed, John McQueen is handsome."
"He's all right, but I've always liked dark-haired men best."
She groaned. "And John's got money!"
"Yes, he does. So?" Casey agreed.
"So?" Anne shook her head in disbelief. "Have you given any thought to the idea that the most handsome, most eligible, richest man in the area might be interested in you?"
"You are such a romantic. I don't have time to worry about men right now. But if you're so excited about them, then you can have John. Or, better yet, go find that man I met down at the stable. He definitely could give John a run for his money when it comes to good looks." Casey smiled at her. "Now, enough about men. I have to get my supplies loaded up and get back home."
"Oh, you!" Anne gave up and started to help her get what she needed.
"Pa was gunned down in cold blood, robbed and left for dead, and right now Sheriff Montgomery doesn't have any leads." Michael finished filling Nick in on what little ad ditional information he'd gotten from the lawman. "I can't imagine why anyone would shoot Pa. He always carried some money on him, but never a lot. It's hard for me to believe robbery was the real motive."
"Whoever it is, we'll find him," Nick said fiercely.
"You're right. We will, no matter how long it takes."
The two men shared a knowing look. If there was one family trait Michael and Nick shared, it was their fierce determination. Once they made up their minds to do something, they did it.
"Right now, the bushwhacker thinks he's gotten away with it, but he's in for a big surprise," Michael said.
"And not a pleasant one."
"You're right about that," he agreed, his mood lightening a bit in anticipation of seeing justice done.
