Brazen

by Bobbi Smith

  "It's big." Nick was impressed by the size of the spread. "I think the Circle D is probably as big as a few of the states back in New England."

  "I think you're right," Tom laughed.

  "It is one of the largest ranches in this part of the state," Michael added proudly.

  "Uncle Frank's done a wonderful job here. Why did you leave?" Nick asked, glancing at his cousin. He had noticed how Michael had begun to change the minute they'd arrived at the ranch. He had returned to his old ranching ways almost effortlessly.

  "Mother wanted me to attend the university."

  "I'm glad you did, otherwise we wouldn't have known each other as well as we do, but haven't you missed this life?"

  Michael was thoughtful as he answered, "I did the first few months, you know that, but then I started to enjoy the life we were leading." He looked around at the open countryside. "I didn't realize how much I'd missed thiuntil now."

  "Michael, some of the men have been wondering: Are you going to stay and take over running things for your pa, or are you planning to head back East again?" Tom asked in his usual forthright manner.

  "I'm staying for now," was all he could answer.

  "Good. They'll be glad to hear it. They've been uneasy because they didn't know what was going to happen. We didn't know if your mother was going to sell out or if she was going to try to keep things running by herself." Tom was relieved, too. With Michael's return, things were looking better for the Circle D.

  They finally reached the site of the ambush. Tom showed them where Frank had been found, and they in spected the area carefully, searching for any clue. Their efforts proved futile, though. They turned up nothing.

  Michael was frustrated when they finally gave up and started back to the house. They took a different route this time, riding along the river.

  "Did Michael ever tell you how he used to go swimming down here?" Tom asked Nick, wanting to lighten their mood. He ignored the quick warning look Michael shot his way.

  "It looks like a good place," Nick agreed. It was private, and the river was cool and clean and slow-running.

  "It is a good place someone catches you skinny-dipping," Tom joked.

  "You got caught skinny-dipping?" Nick was grinning at Michael. "Who caught you?"

  "Go on," Tom urged Michael. "Tell him."

  "Casey Turner." Michael was annoyed with Tom for even bringing the subject up. It was one episode in his life he would like to forget.

  "Our Casey?" Nick said, his grin broadening as he now understood more fully his cousin's reaction to the girl.

  "Yes," he answered tersely.

  "You've met Casey?" Tom asked.

  "In town," Nick answered. "This story sounds interesting, Michael. I want to know more. What happened?"

  "Tom, why don't you tell him, since you're enjoying yourself so much?" Michael said testily.

  "Don't mind if I do," Tom went on. "Casey rode up on him while he was swimming. She stole his clothes before he could climb out of the river and stop her. She ran his horse off, too."

  "She left you out here naked? No wonder you're not too fond of her." Nick laughed as he remembered Casey's remark about Michael's clothes. "What did you do? How did you get home?"

  "It wasn't easy," Michael answered.

  "Did you have to walk?"

  "He was lucky," Tom explained. "His horse came back to him, but he still had to wait until dark to make the ride home. We were just getting ready to go out looking for him when he rode in."

  "I bet everybody was really glad to see you," Nick added, laughing at the image that came to mind.

  Michael groaned at his cousin's pitiful attempt at humor.

  "They sure were," Tom agreed.

  "How long ago did this happen?"

  "About five years," Tom offered.

  "I knew I liked Casey from the first moment I met her."

  "You're a bad judge of character, Nick," Michael countered.

  "No, I'm not. Casey Turner is some kind of woman."

  "That's putting it mildly," Michael said.

  "You have to admit, she's different from your ordinary female," Nick observed.

  "There's no doubt about that."

  "How did she get to be so wild?"

  "Her mother died when she was real young. Her father raised her."

  Nick nodded. "So, have you gone swimming here since then?"

  "No," Michael answered. "Somehow this place has lost its appeal for me."

  "That's a shame. It looks like a good swimming hole."

  "Feel free to ride out here and go swimming anytime you want." Michael started to laugh. "Maybe Casey will ride by and find you skinny-dipping."

  All three men were laughing as they rode on.

  Michael realized it felt good to laugh a little after the tension of the last days. He was frustrated by his lack of success in searching the site of the shooting, but he wasn't ready to give up. He already knew what he was going to do the following day.

  They returned to the barn and tended to their horses before going up to the house.

  "Did you find anything?" Elizabeth asked when Michael and Nick came in. She'd been waiting anxiously for them.

  "No. We checked the entire area, but we didn't find a thing. How much money do we have?" Michael asked.

  "We're all right money-wise. Why?"

  "Because 1 know what we need to do next. Tomorrow is Friday. A lot of the boys from the neighboring ranches will be in town for a little rest and relaxation. I want to ride in and spread the word that there is a reward for information leading to the arrest of the person responsible for the shooting."

  "How big a reward?"

  "A hundred and fifty dollars?" Michael suggested.

  "That's fine. We can offer more if we have to."

  "Let's start with the hundred and fifty and see what kind of response we get."

  Elizabeth went to Michael and hugged him. "I am so glad you're here. I don't know what I'd do without you. If anybody can figure out a way to catch the bushwhacker, you will."

  Michael returned his mother's embrace as he shared a determined look with Nick.

  "I never thought I'd be back in Hard Luck so soon," Nick remarked as they rode into town late the following day.

  "Missed it, did you?"

  "The excitement here is hard to resist," he said wryly. "Where did you want to start?"

  "I'm going to stop by the sheriff's office and tell him what I plan to do."

  "Do you need me with you?"

  "No. Why?"

  "I was thinking that while you're doing that, I'll stop by the general store and see about buying some clothes."

  "Go ahead. I'll meet you there after I talk to the sheriff. Then we can head to the Sundown saloon."

  "How many saloons are there?"

  "I don't know anymore. We'll find out tonight."

  They parted company.

  It had been a slow day at the general store. Anne's parents had gone home early, leaving her to close up. She had taken care of all her chores and was sitting behind the counter reading a dime novel as she waited for closing time. The novel was the latest by one of her favorite authors, Sheridan St. John. She loved St. John's stories. They were romantic and exciting. Nothing like her own dull, ordinary life. She was so enraptured with the fictional characters' adventures that she didn't hear Nick come into the store.

  "Anne?"

  " Anne gasped, startled by the interruption. She looked up to find a tall, handsome cowboy standing at the counter. It took her a second to recognize Nick as the gentleman she'd met the other day. "Nick, it's you-" she began, a little flustered.

  "Hello, Anne," he said, smiling at her. She was as pretty as he remembered, and he was suddenly very glad he'd come to town with Michael.

  "You sure look different today."

  "This is a change for me, that's for sure," he agreed. "What do you think? Am I cowboy material?"

  "You had me fooled for a minute."

  "Is that go
od or bad?"

  "Good, of course."

  He found he was pleased with her answer. "I know it's almost closing time, but--"

  "No, we're still open. What can I do for you? I just got caught up reading this book and"

  "What are you reading?" Nick was curious.

  "It's called Arizona Captives, and it's wonderful..." She stopped in mid-sentence and blushed when she realized how excited she sounded.

  "It's a dime novel?"

  "Yes. They're my favorites, and I think Sheridan St. John is the best writer ever."

  "I'll have to read one one of these days."

  "You've never read a dime novel?"

  "No. I'Ve been too busy studying at the university to have any time to read for pleasure, but it's probably time for me to start again."

  "You'll enjoy them. Men read them all the time. My father likes these books a lot." Anne realized she was babbling a little, and quickly became more businesslike. "But you didn't come in here to talk about books. What do you need?"

  "I need to get some work clothes for out at the ranch. It looks like I'm going to be staying on for a while."

  She smiled at the news as she set the book aside. The men's clothes are over here."

  Anne showed him where the men's things were displayed and left him on his own to look around.

  It didn't take Nick long to select several shirts and pairs of work pants. He also picked out a black Stetson hat to by on.

  "What do you think?" he asked, approaching the counter wearing the Stetson.

  Anne looked up from her book and nodded in approval. "I like that one on you. It looks real fine."

  "Now that I have all the right clothes and this hat, I can pass for a genuine cowboy."

  "Absolutely."

  Working efficiently, she totaled up his purchase, and he handed her several bills.

  "How are things going out at the Circle D?" Anne asked. "How's your uncle?"

  "Uncle Frank is about the same. Michael's going to take over running the ranch for now."

  "And what about you? 1 know you said you were stay

  "Yes, I'm going to stay for a while in case Michael needs any more help. I've already learned a lot in the short time I've been here, but when it comes to ranch work, there's a lot more I need to know."

  "Well, just don't forget how to be a gentleman."

  He chuckled. "There's no danger of that."

  "Good. Have you heard anything new from the sheriff about the shooting?"

  "No. In fact, that's the real reason we came in to Hard Luck tonight. Michael's talking to Sheriff Montgomery right now. When he gets done there, we're going to all the saloons and spread the word that there's a hundredand-fifty-dollar reward for information about who shot Uncle Frank."

  "I hope it helps."

  "So do we."

  Michael came into the store as Anne finished wrapping Nick's purchases.

  "Evening, Anne."

  "Hello, Michael. Nick was just telling me about the reward you're offering. Good luck with it."

  "Thanks. We could use a little luck right now."

  "Sheriff Montgomery didn't know anything new?"

  "Nothing. He agreed to put up some posters about our reward offer, but it looks like if we're going to solve this, we're going to have to do it ourselves."

  "Then let's get started." Nick picked up his package. "Thanks, Anne. It was good to see you again."

  The two men left the store, intent on their mission.

  Anne watched them go. Her gaze lingered on Nick as he fastened his package to the back of his saddle, then mounted up and rode off with Michael.

  Anne sighed, mentally comparing the way he'd looked when he arrived in Hard Luck to how he looked today. She wondered what he was really like. She wished Nick could be like one of the romantic heroes in the novels she enjoyed, but she told herself those men were purely fictional. Men like Brand, the half-breed scout, and all the other heroes Sheridan St. John wrote about didn't really exist.

  Anne checked the time and began to lock up the store. She could hardly wait to get home so she could finish reading her book.

  When Michael and Nick entered the Sundown saloon, Michael was glad to see the place was crowded. The more people who heard what he had to say, the better. He wanted the word to spread as quickly as possible.

  They went to stand at the bar.

  "Well, well, well," Bill Clark, the bartender, said with a big welcoming smile. "I heard tell you were back in town, and now I know it wasn't just talk."

  "How you doing, Bill?" Michael asked, returning his smile.

  "I'm doing fine, but what about you?" he asked sympathetically.

  "It's rough right now, but things will get better."

  "They have to," Bill agreed.

  "This is my cousin, Nick, by the way," Michael said, introducing them.

  "Nice to meet you. What can I get you boys?"

  "Whiskey," they both answered.

  "Coming right up."

  Rosalie L'Amour, as she called herself, owned and ran the Sundown saloon. A buxom, boisterous woman whose bright red hair was her trademark, she went to greet the newcomers.

  "Evening, fellas," she said in her throaty voice. "How are you tonight?"

  Michael and Nick turned to her.

  "Rosalie, you remember Michael, don't you? Michael Donovan," Bill said. "And this is his cousin, Nick."

  "Why, Michael been gone a long time. Welcome home."

  "Thank you."

  "I wish you were here under better circumstances. How's your pa?"

  He quickly told her, then added, "I wanted to spread the word here at the Sundown that my family has decided to offer a reward to help us catch the ones who did this."

  "Good idea. Let's see if we can get everybody's attention." She turned to look out at the crowd. "Listen up!"

  The piano player immediately stopped playing. Slowly the noise level dropped until Rosalie was able to make herself heard.

  "Michael Donovan's here and he's got something he wants to tell you," she announced. "Go ahead, Michael."

  He faced the crowd. "I'm sure by now you've all heard what happened to my father. I'm here to let you know we're offering a reward for information that helps us catch whoever shot and robbed him."

  "How much?" someone shouted out from the back of the room.

  "A hundred and fifty dollars."

  A murmur of surprise at the size of the reward went through the room.

  "We're serious about this serious. If you know anything, anything at all, get in touch with us out at the Circle D or let Sheriff Montgomery know. Any help you can give us, we'd appreciate."

  "Can I turn in old Murphy here and get the reward?" one drunk called out.

  "It's got to be the guilty one." Rosalie laughed at the man.

  "Thanks, Rosalie," Michael said, turning back to the bar to take a drink of whiskey.

  "If I hear any talk, I'll let you know," she promised.

  "You might want to watch for a gold money clip that has the Circle D brand on it. It was taken with the money when Pa was robbed."

  "I'll keep an eye out."

  John McQueen had been playing cards at a table in the back of the room. When the hand was over, he got up to speak to Michael.

  "It's been a long time," John said, shaking Michael's hand.

  "That it has." Michael introduced the rancher to Nick.

  "So the sheriff hasn't found anything yet?"

  "Nothing. It's frustrating for us."

  "Let me know if I can help out in any way."

  "Thanks. I will."

  Michael and Nick finished their drinks and left the Sundown to go to another saloon in town.

  John went back to his card game, satisfied with what he'd learned.

  Sid Midland was sitting across the table from him. "I take it they're not having any luck finding out who shot Frank Donovan."

  "That's right," McQueen answered. "They're desperate."

  "Pity," Sid said,
trying not to smile.

  Philadelphia

  Karen Whittington put aside all feelings of shame as her carriage pulled up before the Padens' town house. It had been weeks, and she had had no word from Michael. She was as angry as she was worried about what might have happened to him on his trip to Texas. Desperate to know how he was and when he was planning to return, she'd made up her mind to go straight to Nick's father for answers.

  When the carriage stopped, the driver helped her down, and Karen hurried up the steps to knock on the front door.

  "Miss can I help you?" the maid asked, surprised to see the beautiful young woman standing there. She knew Michael had courted the lovely, arrogant blonde when he'd been in residence with them, but he and Nick had been in Texas for some time now.

  "I need to speak with Mr. Paden," Karen replied in her most haughty tone.

  "Come in. I'll let him know you're here," the maid said, holding the door wide to admit her.

  Karen swept inside.

  The maid directed her to have a seat in the parlor, then went to get James Paden. He appeared in the parlor doorway moments later.

  "Karen, to what do I owe this honor?" James was a bit taken aback that the young woman would come so boldly to his home unchaperoned.

  "1 need your help."

  "Of course, my dear. What can I do for you?" he said, taking a seat across from her.

  "Have you heard anything from Nick or Michael? I've been so worried about them."

  James knew exactly whom she was worried about, and it wasn't Nick. He smiled gently at her as he answered, "I did receive a telegram from Nick when they reached Hard Luck, letting me know they had arrived and would be heading out to Michael's ranch."

  "So they got there safely." She was relieved to know that much, at least.

  "Yes. It sounded as though things were as good as they could be, considering the circumstances."

  "Did Nick give you any idea when they'd be coming back?"

  "I'm afraid not. This is a most difficult time for Michael's family, so I'm sure they will be there for a while, helping out in any way they can."

  Karen managed a sympathetic smile, but her frustration ran deep. It had been hard enough for her to accept that Michael had been leaving for Europe without her, but this sudden emergency at his family's ranch truly troubled her. What if he never came back? She was still upset that he had left town without even bothering to tell her goodbye in person. The short message he'd sent had been delivered to her by one of the Padens' servants. He'd written only that his father had been injured and he was needed at home and would be in touch with her later.