by Diana Palmer
His eyebrows arched. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that…!” she began quickly.
“No. Please. I’d like to know,” he said, reassuring her. “I collect folk tales.”
She laughed breathily. “I guess it could be called that. You see, it began a long time ago when Hart Bradbury married his second cousin, Miss Blanche Henley. Her father hated the Bradburys and opposed the marriage, but Blanche ran away with Hart and got married to him anyway. Her father swore vengeance. One day, not long afterward, Hart came home from a long day gathering in strays, and found Blanche apparently in the arms of another man. He threw her out of his house and made her go back home to her father.”
“Don’t tell me,” John interrupted with a smile. “Her father set her up.”
“That’s exactly what he did, with one of his men. Blanche was inconsolable. She sat in her room and cried. She did no cooking and no housework and she stopped going anywhere. Her father was surprised, because he thought she’d take up her old responsibilities with no hesitation. When she didn’t, he was stuck with no help in the house and a daughter who embarrassed him in front of his friends. He told her to go back to her husband if he’d have her.
“So she did. But Hart met her at the door and told her he’d never live with her again. She’d gone from him to another man, or so he thought. Blanche gave up. She walked right out the side porch onto that bridge beside the old barn, and threw herself off the top. Hart heard her scream and ran after her, but she hit her head on a boulder when she went down, and her body washed up on the shore. Hart knew then that she was innocent. He sent word to her father that she’d killed herself. Her father went rushing over to Hart’s place. Hart was waiting for him, with a double-barreled shotgun. He gave the old man one barrel and saved the other for himself.” She grimaced. “It was almost ninety years ago, but nobody’s forgotten.”
“But they call the ranch the Bradbury place, don’t they?” John asked, puzzled.
Mrs. Peale smiled. “Hart had three brothers. One of them took over the property. That was the great-uncle of the Bradbury you bought the ranch from.”
“Talk about tragedies that stick in the mind,” John mused. “I’m glad I’m not superstitious.”
“How is it that you ended up bringing my daughter home?” she wondered aloud.
“I walked into the tack room in time to save her from Tarleton,” he replied simply. “She didn’t want to go to the doctor, so I carried her across the street and into his office.” He sighed. “I suppose gossips will feed on that story for a week.”
Mrs. Peale laughed. She had to stop suddenly, because her weak lungs wouldn’t permit much of it. “Sassy is very stubborn.”
He nodded. “I noticed.” He smiled. “But she’s got grit.”
“Will she be all right?” she asked, worried.
“The doctor said that, apart from some bruises, she will. Of course there’s the trauma of the attack itself.”
“We’ll deal with that…if we have to,” the old woman said quietly. She bit her lower lip. “Do you know about me?” she asked suddenly.
“Yes, I do,” he replied.
Her thin face was drawn. “Sassy has nobody. My husband ran off and left me with Sassy still in school. I took in Selene when her father died while he was working for us, just after Sassy’s father left. We have no living family. When I’m gone,” she added slowly, “she won’t have anybody at all.”
“She’ll be all right,” John assured her quietly. “We’ve promoted her to assistant manager of the feed store. It comes with a raise in salary. And if she ever needs help, she’ll get it. I promise.”
She turned her head like a bird watching him. “You have an honest face,” she said after a minute. “Thank you, Mr. Taggert.”
He smiled. “She’s sweet.”
“Sweet and unworldly,” she said heavily. “This is a good place to raise children, but it doesn’t give them much sense of modern society. She’s a babe in the woods, in some ways.”
“She’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Sassy may be naïve, but she has an excellent self-image and she’s a strong woman. If you could have seen her swinging on Tarleton,” he added on a chuckle, with admiration in his pale eyes.
“She hit him?” she exclaimed.
“She did,” he replied. “I wish they’d given her five minutes alone with him. It might have cured him of ever wanting to force himself on another woman. Not,” he added darkly, “that he’s going to have the opportunity for a very long time. The police chief has him in jail pending arraignment. He’ll be brought up on assault charges and, I assure you, he won’t be running around town again.”
“Mr. McGuire should never have hired him,” she muttered.
“I can assure you that he knows that.”
She bit her lip. “What if he gets a good lawyer and they turn him loose?”
“In that case,” John chuckled, “we’ll search and find enough evidence on crimes in his past to hang him out to dry. Whatever happens, he won’t be a threat to Sassy ever again.”
Mrs. Peale beamed. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
“Do you have a telephone here?” he asked suddenly.
She hesitated. “Yes, of course.”
He wondered at the hesitation, but not just then. “If you need anything, anything at all, you can call me.” He pulled a pencil and pad out of his pocket, one he’d bought in town to list supplies, and wrote the ranch number on it. He handed it to Mrs. Peale. “Somebody will be around all the time.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said quietly.
“We help each other out back home,” he told her. “That’s what neighbors are for.”
“Where is back home, Mr. Taggert?” she asked curiously.
“The Callisters we work for live at Medicine Ridge,” he told her.
“Those people!” She caught her breath. “My goodness, everybody knows who they are. In fact, we had a man who used to work for them here in town.”
John held his breath. “You did?”
“Of course, he moved on about a year ago,” she added, and didn’t see John relax. “He said they were the best bosses on earth and that he’d never have left if his wife hadn’t insisted she had to be near her mother. Her mother was like me,” she added sadly, “going downhill by the day. You can’t blame a woman for feeling like that. I stayed with my own mother when she was dying.” She looked up. “Are your parents still living?”
He smiled. “Yes, they are. I don’t know them very well yet, but all of us are just beginning to get comfortable with each other.”
“You were estranged?”
He nodded. “But not anymore. Can I do anything for you before I leave?”
“No, but thank you.”
“I’ll lock the door on my way out.”
She smiled at him.
“I’ll be out this way again,” he said. “Tell Sassy she doesn’t have to come in tomorrow unless she just wants to.”
“She’ll want to,” Mrs. Peale said confidently. “In spite of that terrible man, she really likes her work.”
“I like mine, too,” John told her. He winked. “Good night.”
“Good night, Mr. Taggert.”
He drove back to the Bradbury place deep in thought. He wished he could make sure that Tarleton didn’t get out of jail anytime soon. He was still worried. The man was vindictive. He’d assaulted Sassy for reporting his behavior. God knew what he’d do to her if he managed to get out of that jail. He’d have to talk to Chief Graves and see if there was some way to get his bond set sky-high.
The work at the ranch was coming along quickly. The framework for the barn was already up. Wiring and plumbing were in the early stages. A crew was starting to remodel the house. John had one bedroom as a priority. He was sick of using a sleeping bag on the floor.
He phoned Gil that night. “How are things going at home?” he asked.
Gil chuckled. “Bess
brought a snake to the dinner table. You’ve never seen women run so fast!”
“I’ll bet Kasie didn’t run,” he mused.
“Kasie ticked it under the chin and told Bess it was the prettiest garter snake she’d ever seen.”
“Your new wife is a delight,” John murmured.
“And you can stop right there,” Gil muttered. “She’s my wife. Don’t you forget that.”
John burst out laughing. “You can’t possibly still be jealous of her now!”
“I can, too.”
“I could bring her truckloads of flowers and hands full of diamonds, and she’d still pick you,” John pointed out. “Love trumps material possessions. I’m just her brother-in-law now.”
“Well, okay,” Gil said after a minute. “How are the improvements coming along?”
“Slowly,” John sighed. “I’m still using a sleeping bag on the hard floor. I’ve given them orders to finish my bedroom first. Meanwhile, I’m getting the barn put up. Oh, and I’ve leased us a feed store.”
There was a pause. “Should I ask why?”
“The manager tried to assault a young woman who’s working for the store. He’s in jail.”
“And you leased the store because…?”
John sighed. “The girl’s mother is dying of lung cancer,” he said heavily. “There’s a young girl they took in when her father died…she’s six. Sassy is the only one bringing in any money. I thought if she could be promoted to assistant manager, she might be able to pay her bills and buy a few new clothes for the little girl.”
“Sassy, hmmm?”
John flushed at that knowing tone. “Listen, she’s just a girl who works there.”
“What does she look like?”
“She’s slight. She has wavy, dark hair and green eyes and she’s pretty when she smiles. When I pulled Tarleton off her, she walked up and slapped him as hard as she could. She’s got grit.”
“Tarleton would be the manager?”
“Yes,” John said through his teeth. “The owner of the store, McGuire, hired him long distance and moved him here with his wife. Tarleton’s lost at least one job for sexual harassment.”
“Then why the hell did McGuire hire him?”
“He didn’t know about the charges—there was never a conviction. He said he was desperate. Nobody wanted to work in this outback town.”
“So who are we going to get to replace him?”
“Buck Mannheim.”
“Good choice,” Gil said. “Buck was dying of boredom after he retired. The store will be a challenge for him.”
“He’s a good manager. Sassy likes him already, and she knows every piece of merchandise on the place and the ordering system like the back of her hand. She keeps the place stocked.”
“Is she all right?”
“A little bruised,” John said. “I took her to the doctor and then drove her home. She slept all the way there.”
“She didn’t fuss about having the big boss carting her around?” Gil asked amusedly.
“Well, she doesn’t know that I am the big boss,” John returned.
“She what?”
John scowled. “Why does she have to know who I am?”
“You’ll get in trouble if you start playing with the truth.”
“I’m not playing with it. I’m just sidestepping it for a little while. I like having people take me at face value for a change. It’s nice to be something more than a walking checkbook.”
Gil cleared his throat. “Okay. It’s your life. Let’s just hope your decision doesn’t come back to bite you down the line.”
“It won’t,” John said confidently. “I mean, it isn’t as if I’m planning anything permanent here. By the time I’m ready to come back to Medicine Ridge, it won’t matter, anyway.”
Gil changed the subject. But John wondered if there might not be some truth in what his big brother was saying. He hoped there wasn’t. Surely it wasn’t a bad thing to try to live a normal life for once. After all, he asked himself, how could it hurt?
CHAPTER FOUR
SASSY settled in as assistant manager of the feed store. Buck picked at her gently, teased her, and made her feel so much at home that it was like belonging to a family. During her second week back at work, she asked permission to bring Selene with her to work on the regular Saturday morning shift. Her mother had had a bad couple of days, she explained, and she wasn’t well enough to watch Selene. Buck said it was all right.
But when John walked into the store and found a six-year-old child putting up stock, he wasn’t pleased.
“This is a dangerous place for a kid,” he told Sassy gently. “Even a bridle bit falling from the wall could injure her.”
Sassy stopped and stared at him. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“And there are the pesticides,” he added. “Not that I think she’d put any in her mouth, but if she dropped one of those bags, it could fly up in her face.” He frowned. “We had a little girl on the ranch back in Medicine Ridge who had to be transported to the emergency room when a bag of garden insecticide tore and she inhaled some of it.”
“Oh, dear,” Sassy said, worried.
“I don’t mind her being here,” John assured her. “But find her something to do at the counter. Don’t let her wander around. Okay?”
She cocked her head at him. “You know a lot about kids.”
He smiled. “I have nieces about Selene’s age,” he told her. “They can be a handful.”
“You love them.”
“Indeed I do,” he replied, his eyes following Selene as she climbed up into a chair at the counter, wearing old but clean jeans and a T-shirt. “I’ve missed out on a family,” he added quietly. “I never seemed to have time to slow down and think about permanent things.”
“Why not?” she asked curiously.
His pale eyes searched hers quietly. “Pressure of work, I suppose,” he said vaguely. “I wanted to make my mark in the world. Ambition and family life don’t exactly mesh.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said, and smiled up at him. “You wanted to be something more than just a working cowboy.”
His eyebrow jerked. “Something like that,” he lied. The mark he meant was to have, with his brother, a purebred breeding herd that was known all over the world—a true benchmark of beef production that had its roots in Montana. The Callisters had attained that reputation, but John had sacrificed for it, spending his life on the move, going from one cattle show to another with the ranch’s prize animals. The more awards their breeding bulls won, the more they could charge for their progeny.
“You’re a foreman now,” she said. “Could you get higher up than that?”
“Sure,” he said, warming to the subject. He grinned. “We have several foremen, who handle everything from grain production to cattle production to AI,” he added. “Above that, there’s ranch management.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “AI?” she queried. “What’s that?”
If she’d been older and more sophisticated, he might have teased her with the answer. As it was, he took the question at face value. “It’s artificial breeding,” he said gently. “We hire a man who comes out with the product and inseminates our cows and heifers.”
She looked uncomfortable. “Oh.”
He smiled. “It’s part of ranch protocol,” he said, his tone soft. “The old-fashioned way is hit or miss. In these hard times, we have to have a more reliable way of insuring progeny.”
She smiled back shyly. “Thanks for not explaining it in a crude way,” she said. “We had a rancher come in here a month ago who wanted a diaper for his female dog, who was in heat.” She flushed a little. “He thought it was funny when I got uncomfortable at the way he talked about it.”
His thumb hooked into his belt as he studied her. The comment made him want to find the rancher and have a long talk with him. “That sort of thing isn’t tolerated on our spread,” he said shortly. “We even have dress requirements for men and women
. There’s no sexual harassment, even in language.”
She looked fascinated. “Really?”
“Really.” He searched her eyes. “Sassy, you don’t have to put up with any man talking to you in a way that embarrasses you. If a customer uses crude language, you go get Buck. If you can’t find him, you call me.”
“I never thought…I mean, it seemed to go with the job,” she stammered. “Mr. Tarleton was worse than some of the customers. He used to try to guess the size of my…of my…well—” she shrugged, averting her eyes “—you know.”
“Sadly, I do,” he replied tersely. “Listen, you have to start standing up for yourself more. I know you’re young, but you don’t have to take being talked down to by men. Not in this job.”
She rubbed an elbow and looked up at him like a curious little cat. “I was going to quit,” she recalled, and laughed a little nervously. “I’d already talked to Mama about it. I thought even if I had to drive to Billings and back every day, I’d do it.” She grimaced. “That was just before gas hit over four dollars a gallon.” She sighed. “You’d have to be a millionaire to make that drive daily, now.”
“I know,” he said with heartfelt emotion. He and Gil had started giving their personnel a gas ration allowance in addition to their wages. “Which reminds me,” he added with a smile, “we’re adding gas mileage to the checks now. You won’t have to worry about going bankrupt at the pump.”
“That’s so nice of you!”
He pursed his lips. “Of course. I am nice. It’s one of my more sterling qualities. I mean, along with being debonair, a great conversationalist, and good at poker.” He watched her reaction, smiling wickedly when she didn’t quite get it. “Did I mention that dogs love me, too?”
She did get it then, and laughed shyly. “You’re joking.”
“Trying to.”
She grinned at him. It made her green eyes light up, her face radiant. “You must have a lot of responsibility, considering how much work they’re doing out at your ranch.”
“Yes, I do,” he admitted. “Most of it involves organization.”
“That sounds very stressful,” she replied, frowning. “I mean, a big ranch would have an awful lot of people to organize. I would think that you’d have almost no free time at all.”
