Brazen

by Bobbi Smith

  Karen had thought she meant something to Michael, but all this time had passed and she hadn't heard a word. Learning now that Mr. Paden knew more than she did, she felt a bit insulted.

  "Is there any way to contact Michael?"

  "The ranch is the Circle D, and it's outside of Hard Luck, Texas. You could write him a letter or send a wire to him there."

  "Well, thank you for your time." Karen kept her tone cordial though she was seething inside.

  She stood up, and James showed her out of the house.

  Karen's driver was waiting, and he helped her back into the carriage. As they drove away, Karen was already planning what she would do next. She made up her mind that if she didn't hear personally from Michael in the next week, she was going to take matters into her own hands.

  She was going to go to Texas.

  A smile curved her lips as she imagined making the trip to his ranch to surprise him. It would certainly be the most outrageous and daring thing she'd ever done, but she knew the prize of marrying Michael was worth the risk.

  Jack glared at Allen Foster, the bespectacled, balding bank president, as he sat across the desk from him in his office.

  "What do you mean my loan isn't in good standing, Foster?" Jack demanded. "I just made a payment."

  "You owe the bank a lot more, Jack. I don't see how you're going to be able to pay it off. The way things are going for you, I may have to call in your loan."

  "What are you talking about? You can't do that!"

  "Yes, I can," Foster said with calm deliberation. "Any time there's a perceived risk"

  "The Bar T is not a risk. We may not be the biggest ranch around, but we've got the best water in the whole county. You know that!"

  "That's all well and good, but if you're not bringing in enough money to pay off your debts, there's no saving you.,,

  "Don't you worry, Foster. You'll get your damned money," Jack gritted out furiously.

  "I'm counting on that, Jack. I can give you a month."

  "A month?" Jack reacted without thought. He leaped to his feet and reached across the desk to grab the banker by his shirt front. "You low-down, pencil-pushing son of a"

  "All right, all right! Two months! But no more!" Foster gasped, frightened by this sudden display of fury. He'd never known Jack to be so violent before.

  Jack shoved him back down in his chair in disgust.

  "You'll get your money, Foster," he snarled, and turned to leave the bank. Somehow, some way, he had to get the money to pay back the bank. The only problem was he had no idea how he was going do it.

  Jack stopped and stood for a moment on the sidewalk, staring blindly about himself, trying to decide what to do. The thought of a strong shot of whiskey appealed, so he headed for the Sundown saloon. He had some deep thinking to do. There was so much at stake, and he had so little time.

  "How did it go?" John McQueen asked Foster when he met with him at the bank an hour later.

  "I don't know if your plan will work or not. Turner was more than a little angry when he left here."

  "Keep the pressure on him. I'll take care of the rest."

  Satisfied with the work Foster was doing, John left the bank. Keeping the banker secretly on his payroll was one of the smartest things he'd ever done. He was very pleased with himself as he went in search of Jack Turner.

  It didn't take John long to find Jack at the bar in the Sundown.

  "Afternoon, Jack," he greeted him casually as he went to stand beside him.

  Jack slanted him a sidelong glance as he took another deep drink of his whiskey. "Hello, McQueen."

  John ordered a whiskey, too. "Life been treating you good?"

  "Can't complain," he answered tersely, just wishing the other man would go away.

  "Sounds like you're luckier than most. What with Donovan being ambushed and Maguire having to sell out, times are pretty hard around here."

  "Seems that way."

  "I wonder what the world's coming to."

  "I don't know, and I don't worry about it. I just try to keep the Bar T running."

  "The Bar T is a fine ranch."

  "That's true. I heard you bought out Maguire."

  "Yes, I did. You ever think about selling?"

  "No."

  John had known Jack would be tough. "I heard talk that you might be having some money problems."

  Jack looked at him sharply. "Where'd you hear that?"

  "Word gets around," he replied easily. "If you ever change your mind about selling, I'll make you a fair offer for the place."

  "It doesn't matter what kind of offer you make me. The Bar T isn't for sale." His instinctive mistrust of McQueen was growing even stronger.

  "Well, think about it," John insisted.

  "I don't have to think about it. I told you, the answer is no.,,

  John was angry with the old fool, but he kept smiling. "If you change your mind, you know where you can find me."

  "That isn't going to happen, McQueen."

  Jack hadn't been ready to quit drinking and leave yet, but McQueen's presence drove him from the bar. He quickly downed the rest of his whiskey and walked out.

  The ride home was a long one.

  It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, but Jack didn't notice. He was too deeply lost in thought. He had to find a way to save the ranch.

  Pain ate at him, gnawing at his insides. He tried to ignore it. He reined in as he topped the low rise that overlooked the house and took a moment to study the scene below.

  It was almost sundown. The Bar T looked peaceful in the deepening shadows, almost heavenly to him.

  Jack told himself he'd withstood hard times before and he could do it again. After his wife Emily's untimely death when Casey had been a young girl, he had almost given up. But the Bar T had meant so much to Emily that he'd been inspired to work even harder, to make the ranch a success in her memory.

  Jack remembered other bad times, of rustling and drought. He'd had run-ins with the Donovans, too, but through it all, he'd kept working, believing he would succeed. Now, for the first time, he was deeply worried. He had to find a way to get the cash he needed to pay off the bank, and he needed to do it fast.

  Jack rode on up to the ranch house, his pace slow.

  Casey saw him coming and came outside to meet him.

  "How were things in town?" she asked as he dismounted.

  He had been debating how much he shoulfl tell her, and he realized he couldn't hide it from her much longer. "We've got some trouble."

  "Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

  "Foster's pressuring me to pay off the bank loan."

  "Have we got the money?" She could tell by his manner just how serious the situation was.

  "No."

  "What are we going to do?"

  "I ran into McQueen in town. He offered to buy us out--"

  "We aren't selling," she interrupted him.

  "That's what I told him." Jack was grim.

  "Good. We'll figure something out. I'll go over the books again and see if I can find some extra money somewhere." She'd been doing their book work for the last few years. She'd known their funds were tight, but she'd never dreamed the bank would call in their loan so unexpectedly.

  Jack was glad Casey was confident. He just wished he was as certain as she was about it. Unfortunately, the only thing he was certain about was how bad he felt.

  "Are you ready for dinner?"

  "No, I'm tired. I think I'll go rest for a while and eat later."

  "I'll take care of your horse," Casey offered. She took up the reins and led the horse off to the stable.

  Jack watched her for a moment, then went inside. He'd expected the pain he'd tolerated on the ride back to ease once he'd gotten home, but it had only intensified.

  He tried to make it to his bedroom to lie down.

  The pain hit harder, tearing through him, ripping at his left side arm chest.

  Jack had never known such agony.

  He grit
ted his teeth against the stabbing pain as sweat beaded his brow. He fought for control, but swayed unsteadily on his feet and feared for the first time that he truly might be dying.

  Worry about Casey and who would take care of her consumed him.

  Without him, she would be all alone in the world.

  " He tried to call her name, but it came out only in a hoarse whisper.

  Jack grabbed the back of the sofa to support himself. He was too weak, though.

  Blackness overwhelmed him.

  He collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.

  "You're lucky you're alive," Dr. Murray told Jack as he stood over him where he lay in bed.

  "It's that bad?"

  "Yes. It's your heart."

  Jack met the doctor's gaze unflinchingly. "I want the truth, Doc. Tell me long have I got?"

  "I'd be God if I could answer that question. The truth is, Jack, with a condition like yours, there is no way of knowing. It could be tomorrow or it could be six months from now"

  Jack's physical pain was gone for now, but a different agony filled him. He'd never faced the truth of his own mortality before.

  "Don't tell Casey any of this. What happened today has already been too much of a shock for her."

  "She needs to know the truth."

  "I'll tell her when the time is right," Jack insisted. "You've got to promise me-"

  "All right. I'll respect your wishes now. Just get some rest. In a day or two, you can start moving around. See how your strength holds up."

  "When can I get back to work?"

  "Jack, your condition is serious," Dr. Murray said worriedly.

  "I have a ranch to run."

  "You can't very well run it if you drop dead, now can you? You have to give yourself time to regain some strength."

  "All right," Jack agreed, just to shut the doctor up. He had some serious thinking to do, and he wanted him gone.

  "I'll check back in on you in a few days."

  "Thanks."

  Dr. Murray went to speak with Casey, leaving Jack by himself.

  Jack was deeply troubled. The doctor had made it plain he could go at any time, and he was worried about what would happen to Casey if he died. With the Bar T in such a bad way financially, there would be no one to take care of her.

  Jack knew she'd be furious with him if she were aware of his thoughts. Casey believed she was the equal of any man. She believed she could take care of herself, and she wasn't shy about letting everyone know it.

  Still, Jack wished Casey had a man in her life-a husband who could take over for him at the ranch. Regret filled Jack that he hadn't encouraged her to be more feminine, but she'd shown no interest in those things while growing up. She'd always preferred working with horses and stock than attending the socials in town.

  Jack grew desperate as he thought of Casey trying to repay the bank on her own. His desperation turned to determination. He had to find a way to make sure she was protected and to save the Bar T.With no close relatives to step in and take charge, there was only one solution.

  He had to find Casey a husband who had money and he had to do it fast.

  The doctor had said he might die tomorrow or he might die in six months. Jack knew he didn't have a minute to waste.

  He thought of the men around town. Casey had had a few suitors, but she hadn't taken any of them seriously. Young Al Burke, who worked in the telegraph office, fancied her, but she had only tolerated his attentions.

  Jack lay there, trying to think of a man who could love his daughter for the woman she was, one who was strong enough to keep up with her, and who had money.

  Time was of the essence.

  Jack knew that if he died before he got Casey married, she would be left penniless. He realized, too, that convincing her to marry was not going to be easy. He just hoped that once he explained that her marriage would save the ranch, she would go along with it.

  All he had to do was find the right man.

  A great weariness overcame Jack.

  He closed his eyes.

  "Your father is doing as well as can be expected, Casey, but his condition is serious," Dr. Murray told her quietly as he sat with her in the parlor. "It's his heart."

  Casey was still in shock from what had happened. When she'd returned from the stable and found her father unconscious on the floor in the parlor, his coloring had been so ashen, she'd feared he was dead.

  "He's going to live, isn't he?" she asked, voicing the question that was haunting her.

  "Yes," he answered, keeping Jack's confidence.

  "Thank God." Tears of relief welled up in her eyes. She couldn't imagine life without her father.

  "Now, I've told him to take it easy for a while, and I want you to make sure he rests up."

  "I will."

  "Good. I'll come back in a few days to make sure he's doing all right."

  She showed him out of the house. "Thank you, Dr. Murray."

  As Dr. Murray got in his carriage and started back toward Hard Luck, he thought the town's name was all too apt. A lot of bad things had been happening to good people. First, Frank Donovan had been shot, and now Jack Turner with his bad heart... He'd heard, too, that Ron Maguire had sold out and left the area. Things were changing, and he wasn't sure they were changing for the better.

  Casey went to her fathers room to check on him. He was sleeping peacefully and there was some color in his face now. She breathed a sigh of relief as she settled into a chair beside the bed. She planned to spend the night there, just in case he awoke and needed her.

  When Jack awoke early the following morning, he found Casey asleep in the chair beside the bed. He took a moment to study her as she slept on, admiring the soft curve of her cheek and her flawless complexion. Her hair was a tumble of untamed curls untamed just like she was, he thought, and his smile was bittersweet.

  Again the thought of finding a suitable husband for her returned, and his smile turned to a frown. None of the bachelors in town had enough money to save the ranch.

  Jack started trying to think of other single men in the area who had money, and John McQueen came to mind. As quickly as he thought of him, he rejected the idea. McQueen might have money, but Jack had seen the way the man looked at Casey and there was no way he wanted him anywhere near his daughter.

  There was the widower Charles Barnhart, who owned a spread on the far side of town. He had cash, but he was going on sixty, far too old for Casey.

  Casey needed someone she could come to care for. Someone she could eventually he hoped come to love.

  Growing more desperate by the minute, Jack realized the only other rancher around who had money was Frank Donovan. His frown deepened as he was lost deep in thought.

  Desperate times did call for desperate measures, and

  Michael Donovan was back in town.

  Jack cursed silently. He was furious that he was reduced to even considering going to Frank for help.

  Jack looked at Casey again.

  Maybe it was time to make peace for Casey's sake.

  All anger left him as he gazed lovingly at his sleeping daughter. Nothing was more important to him than she was. If that meant he had to put aside the animosity he'd held toward Frank all these years, he'd do it.

  For a moment, the very real fear struck Jack that Frank might reject his offer. Jack knew he had to somehow convince his old enemy that uniting the ranches was in their best interests that it was the only way to save both ranches. If Donovan didn't agree to his plan, he would be forced to sell out probably to McQueen. Given the chance, Jack suspected McQueen might fry to cut off the water supply to the Circle D-the water supply the two ranches now shared.

  Jack hoped that argument would convince Frank to go along with him.

  He was dying. He didn't have any time to waste.

  Jack grew more and more tense with each passing mile. After making his decision to seek out Frank Donovan, he'd had to wait a full day before he could muster enough strength to leave the house
. Dealing with the weakness had angered him, and now, as he drove his buckboard toward the Circle D, even that short delay worried him.

  Time was of the essence.

  Casey had ridden out with the hands early that morning, so no one knew where he was going, and that was fine with Jack. He'd promised her that he would stay at the house and rest, so as long as he returned before she did, everything would be fine. This meeting with Frank had to be private, strictly between the two of them for now.

  Jack wasn't sure what kind of reception he would get at the Circle D.It wouldn't be a warm one, that was for sure,since the sheriff had thought he was the one who'd ambushed Frank. Still, as difficult as it was for him to swallow his pride and go there, Jack had no choice. The upcoming visit might be humiliating, but he didn't even consider turning back. Casey's future was too important to him.

  When the Circle D ranch house finally came in sight, Jack girded himself for what was to come.

  Frank was in his bed, braced up against the headboard, staring out his bedroom window at the countryside. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining in a cloudless blue sky.

  Frank longed to be off riding with his men. He wanted to be out working the stock, living the life he loved. Instead, he was trapped inside the house in a body that was broken and would never work again.

  His mood alternated between anger and despaianger that this had happened to him and no one knew who'd done it or why, and despair because the future stretched so bleakly before him. He tried to push his dark thoughts away. Logically, he knew there was no sense in dwelling on what he could not change. He had to find a way to deal with his life the way it was now. If he could have been certain Michael was going to stay on permanently at the ranch, he would have felt better about the future of the Circle D.As it was, the uncertainty haunted him.

  A buckboard came into view in the distance, heading up the road to the house. Frank wondered who was com ing to pay them a visit. Dr. Murray wasn't due back until the end of the week. When the buckboard drew nearer and Frank was finally able to make out the driver, he was shocked to find it was Jack Turner. Frank was instantly waiy. He was sure Jack hadn't come out of concern for his health or to pay him a social call. Something was going on.