Desert Sunrise (Love in the Sierras Book 2)

by Belle, Sawyer

“Couldn’t you have gone to the sheriff? Surely, someone in town would have been on your side.”

  Jess issued a sad laugh. “You don’t understand how it works west of the Missouri. When Grant inherited my father’s money, the power came with it. Men like him, like Leonard Stacy, the first thing they purchase with their greenbacks is the law. They’re virtually impossible to fight.”

  Her eyes, a deep and troubled blue, locked onto Val’s and his spine stiffened. She didn’t believe they could beat Stacy at his game, but he had had a long ride out to the ranch with plenty of time to think the situation through. He had come to a conclusion, but he would not share his thoughts this night. It was not the time to speak of justice. She had given a part of herself to him and his family, and that was more important.

  “Be that as it may,” Val said, meeting her gaze across the table. “I’m glad you shot the bastard, and for whatever power brought you here, I’m grateful.”

  “That power is Marlena,” she said surely. “She fought because it wasn’t in me to fight. It was her…”

  “That’s not true,” came a voice from the top of the stairs, and Val turned with the others to find Marlena standing in the entryway to the loft, a sad gleam in her eyes and a soft shake of her head. “Why do you always say that?”

  His face returned to Jess’s to find the first stirrings of emotion twisting her features. Marlena’s voice drew his gaze once again.

  “You always say you didn’t fight, but you did. When Grant attacked Maddy for burning the Christmas goose, you jumped in front of her and felt his fists. When I spilled the sugar, you cooed and cajoled, unbuttoning your blouse and baring yourself to him to keep him from me. When Achilles threw him, you felt the sting of the crop. Every day you fought…for everyone but yourself. You fought so hard for us that you had no strength left to fight for you, and we were all cowards, too afraid to do what you did for us every day. You dismissed the staff to protect them, but they could have stayed to protect you. No one did.”

  Val watched her take the steps down to their level. Her eyes were deadlocked on Jess’s. “I’m tired of hearing you praise me and my braveness. In three years, I never earned one bruise at the hands of that man, never felt one ounce of pain inflicted by him. I didn’t fight anybody. I didn’t stand up to anybody.” She sniffled. “I didn’t stand up for you.”

  Lines of tears streaked down Jess’s face as she stared at her sister. “Honey, you were a child. You stood up for me when it mattered.”

  Marlena’s tears began to spill and she pinched her lips against the emotions and shook her head. “Not enough,” she croaked. “Not enough.”

  Jess was suddenly on her feet and embracing her sister. They cried together as the older woman shushed the younger, and one-by-one, Val and his family left the room to give them privacy. They gathered in Morgan and Lila’s room, where Val took up a vigorous speed of pacing.

  Lila held Morgan’s hand in hers. “I’m so blessed to have you.”

  Val punched the wall. “I wish the bastard was alive.”

  “Why?” Morgan said with a scrunched brow.

  “So I could kill him!” He paced anew. “If it were possible, I’d kill him a thousand times.”

  “Stop thinking about him and think about her,” Morgan said, to Val’s irritation.

  “I am thinking of her.”

  “No, you’re thinking of vengeance, which has nothing to do with her. Justice has been carried out. Let it go and think about her.”

  He turned to face his brother with balled fists, but stopped when Argyle put a hand up. They quieted enough to hear footsteps climbing the steps to the loft. From the sounds of it, both women retired upstairs, and Val relaxed. A part of him was relieved he wouldn’t have to face Jess until morning. He had no idea what he’d say. He grabbed a blanket off of the footboard of Morgan’s bed and glared at his sibling.

  “I’m sleeping in the stables tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He stomped out of the house and entered the enclosure, rubbing his temples as he expelled a hot breath. Kicking masses of hay into a soft pile, he sank down onto it and pulled the cover up to his chin. Think of her. Morgan’s words chanted through his fiery brain, and the meaning came to him. She didn’t need a champion. Her beast was slain. What she needed was hope and reassurance. She needed to know no matter how long and dark the night, there would always be a sunrise. He tossed and turned, knowing sleep was far from him. With a sigh, he sat up and lit the lantern.

  When the morning sun broke across the ranch, a brace of roosters crowed into its rays, and Val pulled the cover over his head, bringing his knees to his chest. He could sleep for days the way his body ached. He felt double his size and weight with soreness. Soon, the aroma of frying bacon drifted out to the barn and he rose to greet it.

  His suspenders snapped down onto his shoulders as the main door slammed behind him. The woman who turned to greet him in the kitchen wasn’t Lila, but Jess. She wore her emerald skirt from the day before, but over the borrowed nightgown. Thin, white cotton clung to her torso, the tiny cap sleeves baring her long pale arms with their muscle tone. Her bare feet stood in a sprinkle of spilled flour as she kneaded bread dough on the tabletop and her long blond hair was braided loosely down her back.

  “Damn, woman. You sure know how to make a morning look good,” he said, and to his surprise, she greeted him with a smile.

  “My life’s ambition achieved,” she said with a raised brow before nodding toward the fireplace and blowing an errant hair out of her face. “There’s coffee on the fire. Should be about ready if you’re keen for a cup.”

  “Thank you for your trouble.” He grabbed the fire rags and pulled the kettle from the embers and poured them each a cup. “Anything else I can do to help you?”

  “You can turn those cuts of bacon.”

  He grabbed a fork and stabbed the cutlets before flipping them. The soft sizzling sound mingled with the scent and he was ready to fix himself a plate. There was plenty to go around.

  “It’s generous of you to cook breakfast for everyone,” he said and she blew out a breathy laugh.

  “It’s generous of Morgan and Lila to donate their stores. I hope they’re not angry I’ve invaded their kitchen.”

  “Not at all,” Lila said as she waddled down the hall. “I’m glad to give up the duty, and I thank you.”

  Val leaned toward Jess, and muttered under his breath. “No, I thank you. She’s horrible in the kitchen.”

  To his delight, she laughed discreetly before nudging him with a shoulder. “Go crack some eggs on the skillet, Valentine, and let your sister-in-law cater to that niece or nephew of yours she’s carrying.”

  Val smiled as Lila settled into the rocker. His eyes fell to the back of Jess and her busy body at work. The mood was light, playful and wholesome, as if the dark truth had not been lowered on that very table only hours ago. He fought the curiosity and protectiveness her story prompted and went about frying eggs. If the women chose to ignore such an obvious source of discomfort, who was he to bring it about?

  Chapter 27

  Jess fingered the end of her braid where it hung over her shoulder as she walked the grounds around Morgan’s home. The slight gurgle of the river behind the orchard reached her ears. Cattle lowed, flowers opened, and a cloud of dust hung over the round corral where Val watched Morgan bounce and jolt atop a white mustang.

  Lila and Marlena bent over the tilled earth in a vegetable garden, making rows and trenches with a trowel. The air was crisp and fresh; her hands still smelled of bacon and bread. It was hard to believe the current of peace moving through the place after the violence that occurred the last time she’d been there, but the tranquility was palpable, almost as if the shedding of wickedness upon the land had revived and replenished it.

  A deep breath whistled through her nose as she sucked in air and closed her eyes. Contrary to what she expected after her grand confession, she felt refreshed and somehow lighter. Sharing her
story, unburdening her heart in a room of trusting, supportive people had been what she’d never expected.

  A release.

  She had anticipated guilt, shame and humiliation, but felt none. With the realization came a wonderful and invigorating sense of liberation, and she smiled. She had nothing. No home, no money, no secrets, nothing to hide her scar or her name, and yet she felt on the verge of a great hope, as if she had been cleansed and purged, and what’s more? The need to hide was gone, and she now realized it wasn’t only her arrest warrant that had prompted it. Fear had maintained its hold on her for far too long, and the subtle emergence of her former stronger self brought tears to her eyes.

  The back of her hand moved up to wipe them away, and she surveyed the meager herd of cattle gathered around the newest sprouts of grass in the distance. They nipped feverishly, the evidence of the barren winter visible in the slight showing of their ribs. She made her way to the round corral to watch Morgan lose his battle with the mare. Once thrown, he scrambled to the side of the fence and up to the top rail. The horse bucked a few more times before running a full circuit and coming to a panting halt in the center.

  Val laughed at the tired look on Morgan’s face. “Did you really think it would be so easy to claim the lead mare?”

  “It would have been when I originally said it. I’ve had a mountain fall on my back since then, remember?”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  Jess joined in their laughter. “Morgan, what the hell did you do to your cattle over the winter? Starve them?” she asked, flicking her head toward the herd. “How many head did you lose?”

  Morgan climbed down the outside of the pen. “Seven. I did the best I could with an injured brother and a pregnant wife. I purchased winter feed, but not enough. My concentration was on keeping us fed.”

  “Are you planning to let those Herefords loose to feed on the range?”

  He sighed. “I wasn’t, but it doesn’t look like I have a choice. They need feed and I don’t have enough here. I hate to do that. I don’t have anyone to post out on the range with them and I know the area is full of cattle rustlers.”

  She nodded, remembering the trials of starting up a cattle business. “I think it’s high-time you got neighborly, then.” His brow wrinkled, and she laughed. “When we got into New Mexico, my father struck a deal with another rancher. His men kept watch over ours and in exchange, we planted enough bunchgrass to feed both herds over the winter.”

  “My calves aren’t branded.”

  “That’s something we’ll have to get started on, then. Do you have an iron?”

  “Yes, the prior owner left his iron here. It’s above the fireplace inside, but…” His forehead wrinkled. “You’re not planning to assist, are you?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “I appreciate your sense of chivalry. It’s one my father never had. I couldn’t have gotten away from the task if I’d wanted to. I assure you, I’m quite capable. Besides, it’s necessary. You need the help if you want a fat herd this year. You need to get them out on the range long enough to give you time to work on planting and irrigating a healthy hay crop, which is what you’ll need to feed in the winter.”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re right. We’ll start as soon as I return from Carson. Will you furnish me a list of what you’ll need for sewing?”

  “I happen to have it here.” She fished the folded sheaf of paper from her pocket and handed it over with a smile. “Thank you again for this. I will repay you as soon as I’m able.”

  “No need. Consider it payment for all of the helping around here you and Marlena are doing.” Their eyes traveled to the vegetable garden behind the house, where Marlena worked on her hands and knees beside Lila. “I feel like I’m getting free labor.”

  “We’re happy to do it.”

  Morgan nodded before turning to Val. “Are you coming with me or staying with the womenfolk?”

  Val chuckled. “If it’s a matter of choice between you and women, I think you know the answer to that one.”

  Jess rolled her eyes as Morgan smiled and shook his head. “Suit yourself. I’ll get Argyle to keep me company. I’ll be back by lunch.”

  He went to the garden to give his wife a kiss before disappearing into the house. Minutes later, he and Argyle emerged, soon driving a buckboard wagon off the property and down the road toward town. Jess turned to Val.

  “I need your pants,” she said, and watched the slow lift of a dark eyebrow.

  “Come again?”

  “I can’t brand cattle in my dress.”

  “And I can’t brand them in my drawers.”

  She sighed. “Don’t you have any spare clothes? You lived here through the whole of fall and winter.”

  His brow wrinkled. “You’re right, I do.”

  “Great. Then, fetch me a shirt and some trousers, if you please.”

  Soft heat rippled up her spine as his gaze slid over her body.

  “The pants will be big and long, but the shirt…I think you’ll fill it out just fine.”

  She surveyed the broad bulk of his chest and smirked. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Val.”

  The corner of his lip curled in the half-grin she loved, and she batted his shoulder to distract him from the blush flooding her cheeks. “Go on, Val. The faster I change, the quicker you get to learning a thing or two.”

  He laughed. “Morg and I drove cattle for almost two years. I think we already know a thing or two.”

  “Hmm…I’ll be the judge of that.”

  Val flinched at the crack of her whip in the distance. He watched her legs bounce off of Achilles’ sides as she kicked him toward the frantic herd, scattering this way and that. The horse was every bit as experienced as his rider, cutting and turning on a dime to drive a steer away from the throng and chase him toward the pen where Val squatted and turned the branding iron in the sizzling embers.

  This was the twelfth piece of beef she cut out for him, and her face was still glowing. Val couldn’t help but smile, seeing her vibrant in her element. The steer protested with a guttural moan as she pounded the ground behind him. As they neared the enclosure, she tossed the coiled whip around her neck and grabbed her lasso, swinging it high overhead.

  Val stood with the short rope in his hands, ready for the moment he’d be needed. Jess released the loop and stood on her stirrups. When the noose landed perfectly around the beast’s neck, she sat back on her heels and pulled sharp on the reins. Achilles ground to a halt, sending sprays of soft brown dirt as the steer went airborne and landed flat on his back. Val sprang into action, taking advantage of the stunned animal long enough to tie its hooves together.

  He went for the iron and held it away from the embers until it was a bright, ashy color. When he returned to the animal, Jess was on the ground, her knees pinning the tied legs down. The animal’s head was held in place with the stretch of rope held taut by Achilles, who continued to inch backward at the slightest appearance of any slack. Val used his knees to stabilize the Hereford before he stuck the brand onto his rear just long enough to singe through the hair and top layer of skin.

  The animal writhed for a few seconds before he was released into the circle pen with the other animals baring the brand of the diamond spur ranch. He and Jess stood up, wiping their hands on their pants.

  “That’s the last one,” Jess declared.

  “Morgan won’t be too pleased we did his work for him,” Val said.

  “He’ll get over it.” Her smile was wide and bright. “Especially when he learns half the supplies on the list I gave him were for me and Marlena, not Lila. There’s no way he’ll be able to say I didn’t earn the goods now.”

  Lila and Marlena strode toward them, carrying glasses of lemonade. Val took his and drank thirstily, the refreshing liquid cooling his throat and insides.

  “Morgan should be back soon,” Lila said. “I’d best get started on supper.”

  “Let me help you,” Jess volunteered. �
�I’ve heard you’re a terrible cook and I’ve no intention of eating slop after a day working cattle.”

  Val’s smile fell, replaced with wide-eyed fear Lila’s feelings had been upset by what he told Jess that morning, but Lila planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Is that so, Valentine Kelly?” she accused, and he felt himself shriveling under her direct gaze. He said nothing, what he believed to be the wisest course of action. She turned her eyes onto Jess and laughed. “I’m so glad somebody finally had the balls to say something to me. I’ve been gagging my food down for a while now thinking it was just the pregnancy making everything taste off because the men around here do nothing but praise.”

  Jess and Marlena joined in the laughter and Val felt himself relax.

  “If you’re a cattleman’s wife, you’ve got to know how to put out a good meal,” Jess said. “I’ve got a few pointers for you.”

  “She’s not lying either,” Val said. “Jess is one of the best cooks I’ve known.” He began to chuckle until the swift, icy glare of his sister-in-law pinned on him and he fell silent again.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Val,” she said. “I expected honesty out of you with my cooking.”

  He held his hands up in supplication. “I told Morgan we ought to tell you the truth, but he refused. He said his job was to love you, not criticize. He said he’d eat a cow pie if you put it on a plate in front of him.”

  “As well he should,” Lila said with an endearing smile. “That’s why I said I was disappointed in you.”

  Val huffed, speechless. The women laughed and turned from him to go wash up before disappearing into the house.

  Two hours later, the table was crammed full of bodies, laughing at the day’s antics and enjoying a meal the likes of which the company had never experienced under Lila’s efforts. She was glowing and scolding her husband playfully while her eyes filled with love and desire. When the table had been cleared, Jess sat in front of the fireplace, cutting and stitching fabric while Val and Marlena regaled the group with popular duets.