Colorado Heart (9781101612026)

by Holby Cindy

  “Who knows,” Jake said. “Maybe she’ll show up tomorrow to claim the donkey.”

  “And swear out a complaint against you?” Cade asked.

  “She’s welcome to try,” Jake said.

  “How long ago was it you sent that letter?” Jim asked.

  “Almost two years,” Jake said. “You think if he had any family they would have shown up a long time ago.” He looked at the swallow left in his glass. “And you’d think I’d know since I have the key to the house.” He drained his glass. “They must be squatters as well as thieves.”

  “We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” Cade said. “You’re welcome to come along if you want.” He tossed back his shot. “Now if you gentlemen will excuse me, I’ve got a wife to get home to.”

  “Yeah, I’d better go too, before Gretchen sends out a search party,” Jim said, and he followed Cade out the door.

  “So she was a looker?” Ward asked when the door was shut firmly behind the two men.

  “Yes, she was pretty,” Jake admitted. “Even though she looked liked she got scalped with a dull knife.” He slammed his glass down on the bar. “Pretty don’t mean much when you’ve got a gun pointed at your head.”

  Ward grinned as he poured another shot into Jake’s glass. “It’s much better than having a gun pointed at your head by an ugly outlaw,” Ward pointed out. “Why didn’t you just let her keep the donkey? It’s not like the animal actually belongs to you.”

  “I guess I just wanted to make her mad to see what she would do next.”

  Ward grinned, so Jake turned his back on him, as he had a pretty good idea of what his friend was thinking. He didn’t want to hear it, so he concentrated on what was happening in the Heaven’s Gate Saloon. There wasn’t much there to distract him.

  Dan and Randy sat at a table by the potbellied stove with Priscilla, one of the waitresses, who giggled mightily at something Dan said. Talking about him and how he was attacked on the trail by a slip of a woman, no doubt. Six puppies, three black and white, two solid gray and one a mix of all three tumbled about beneath the tables. One chewed on Randy’s boot and he picked the pup up and put it on his lap. Lady, Ward’s dog, watched her offspring carefully as she lay next to a box close to the stove.

  “How old are those pups?” Jake asked.

  “Old enough to leave if you’re interested.”

  “Nah,” Jake said, although he was tempted as it had been awhile since he’d lost Sonny, who’d been with him for years. A good dog was hard to come by.

  “Speaking of pups and such,” Ward said. “Had you heard that Leah and Cade are expecting?”

  Jake tossed his drink back. “That didn’t take long.” He didn’t want to admit that losing Leah to Cade Gentry still hurt his pride a bit. “I reckon they’re happy and such.”

  “They look it.”

  “I’m glad for her then,” Jake said.

  “Still hurting?” Ward asked.

  “I wouldn’t call it hurting,” Jake said. “Leah didn’t love me and I reckon when you get down to it, I didn’t love her since it didn’t really make me all that mad after I thought about it for a while. Sometimes I’m just a bit lonely is all.”

  Ward raised his glass in salute. “I certainly know what that feels like, my friend.” Jake drained his glass again and turned it upside down on the bar. He was done with whiskey for the night. Ward re-corked the bottle and put it away on the shelf that held his private stock.

  Jake caught sight of his reflection in the mirror that hung behind the bar and stared at the man who gazed back at him with steely blue eyes that looked hollow and lost. The winter had taken its toll on him. He’d worked hard all his life and now he had something to show for it. But it didn’t mean much when there was no one to share it with.

  “Maybe I should take a trip down to Denver,” Jake said. “See the sights.”

  “And find a bride?” Ward asked.

  “Maybe,” Jake admitted.

  “You sound like a man who wants to fall in love,” Ward said. He poured Jake a beer from the large keg that sat on the end of the bar.

  “Love?” Jake scoffed. “I’m pretty sure that’s something the poets and Shakespeare made up.”

  Ward grinned. “We’ll see,” he said.

  Jake shook his head and rolled his eyes at his friend. It seemed strange, but he felt a bit better about things. Almost optimistic. Fu was right, not that he’d ever admit it to the Chinaman. He just needed to get out of the house for a bit. And there was no reason why he couldn’t make a trip to Denver after the spring roundup. There were plenty of women there. Plenty of women just dying for a man to provide for them. He just needed to look at it like a business deal. Take a trip down to Denver or maybe wait until the fall drive and go on to Kansas City, or St. Louis. There were women everywhere. Surely he could find someone who knew how to take care of a house and home. She wouldn’t even have to cook since he had Fu around. And it wasn’t as if he was such a bad catch. He was young and he was strong and he’d been told he was handsome more than once by women who weren’t related to him.

  Jake smiled at his own ego. Enough planning for tonight. He picked up his beer and decided to join his men for the rest of his drink.

  Instead he almost fell flat on his face.

  “Dang!” One of the pups had gotten tangled up between his feet. It rolled sideways as he stumbled and landed on its back. It blinked up at him with one brown eye and one blue eye, and promptly leapt on his boot with a cute little growl.

  Cute. Now where in the hell had that come from? Cute wasn’t a word that came up a lot in his vocabulary, yet he had to admit the tricolor pup was the epitome of the word. Jake knelt down and picked up the pup that was in the process of killing the evil creature that was his boot and scooped it up to check its sex.

  “That one’s a girl,” Pris informed him. She came to his side and leaned close enough that Jake could see the pale white skin of her breasts as they brushed against his arm. She rubbed the pup’s head. “I just love her eyes,” she added.

  The pup tilted her head sideways as she considered Jake with her different-colored eyes. The fur on her back was a mix of black and gray, and her belly and legs white with a few brown spots scattered around. A white blaze split her face and carried over to surround the blue eye, which made it all the more startling in her sweet face. Both eyes bespoke the intelligence of her sire and the faithfulness of her dam.

  “Change your mind?” Ward asked.

  “I believe I have,” Jake said. He tucked the pup into the crook of his arm. “I reckon we’ll turn in now,” he said. Ward lifted his glass in a good-night salute as he sat down at his piano.

  “Are you sure?” Pris asked. The invitation shone in her eyes, on her mouth and in the way she stood with her hand on her hip. Behind him he plainly saw the disappointment on both Dan and Randy’s faces.

  It would be so very easy to say yes. To drag her upstairs and lose himself inside of her. But just as much as he knew it would be easy to do, he also knew that the morning would be filled with regret. He’d spent a long and lonely winter keeping regret at bay. He wasn’t about to do anything to make it turn up here. “I’m sure,” Jake said, and moved toward the steps.

  “Suit yourself,” Pris said, and went back to his men. The sound of Ward’s playing accompanied him up the stairs as Jake went into the room he always slept in when he stayed in town. It didn’t take him long to strip down to his long johns and climb beneath the thick pile of quilts. The pup seemed content, and with a squeaky yawn she curled up in the crook of his arm. Luckily she slept through the bed banging against the wall in the room next door, along with the normal sounds that accompanied such things.

  Jake wasn’t as lucky, nor was he content, and it was a long time before he drifted off to a sleep that was haunted by a woman with ragged
hair and kissable lips.

  THREE

  Angel’s End, Colorado. One look at the angel statue in the middle of the street told Cassie Parker everything she needed to know about the origin of the town’s name. Where the statue had come from was another story altogether. Maybe if she stuck around long enough she’d find out. Odds were against it though. Sure she’d love to have a place to call home, a place where people would just leave her alone and let her be, but her recent history had proven that it wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

  Cassie had pushed her family hard last autumn to get to the small valley and the ranch her grandfather had left her before winter set in. Since then they’d kept to themselves, content to hide beneath the several feet of snow that fell day after day. But now with spring on its way, and the better weather, she had to show herself in town. Supplies were low and they needed to eat.

  She did a slow survey of the street as she dismounted in front of Swanson’s Mercantile. She quickly noted the sheriff’s office and the saloon, where she was certain the idiot she met on the trail was hiding. Libby the donkey was probably in her stall at the livery. The way her luck was going, Cassie would probably have to buy her again, even with the bill of sale Manuel had luckily kept.

  Three men and a dog came out of the saloon as she waited for Manuel to tie the mules to the hitching post. She recognized the shortest of the three as the man from the trail. Her eyes were sharp enough to spot a star on the chest of the tallest man, which meant he was the sheriff. The third was more than likely just nosy.

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Cassie asked Manuel.

  He patted his pocket where he kept the bill of sale. “I will be fine,” he assured her. “Will you be all right?” he asked in return.

  Cassie patted the pocket of her coat where she kept her pistol. “I will be fine also,” she assured him and she went inside.

  The heat from the potbelly stove in the center of the store was welcoming. Cassie felt as if she’d been cold forever. Neither a fire nor the many quilts she slept beneath gave her comfort. She was always cold. With luck, when summer came the long hot days would chase away the terminal chill that filled her body.

  Cassie unbuttoned her heavy wool coat that covered her from ears to ankles. She took off her wide-brimmed hat and gloves and placed them on a chair by the stove. She ran her fingers through her chin-length hair. She shouldn’t have cut it off the way she did. Grabbing the knife and sawing off her braid had been impulsive, but when she’d done it she wasn’t thinking properly. Now it was mostly in the way as it was still too short to pull back. She did the best she could with it, fluffing the silky strands with her fingers until she was certain it wasn’t plastered to her head before she turned to face the enormous woman who stood behind the counter with a phony smile stretching across her round face.

  “Just passing through, deary, or are you new to Angel’s End?” the woman asked.

  Cassie took a deep breath. She can’t hurt me . . . Cassie reminded herself as she stuck out her hand to get the formalities over with. “I’m new to Angel’s End,” she said. “I’m Sam Parker’s granddaughter and I’ve come to claim his land.”

  The woman’s mouth and eyes both rounded in surprise before she came around from behind the counter. The floorboards creaked mightily with her weight as she grabbed Cassie’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Sam’s granddaughter. Well I never even knew he had children, much less a granddaughter.” She studied Cassie’s face looking for some resemblance. Cassie could only wonder if she found any as her memories of her grandfather were dim. “Imagine that,” the woman continued. “Of course the man never said much of anything to anyone that I can recall.”

  Cassie couldn’t say she expected anything different. The relationship between her mother and her grandfather was a tenuous one after her father died. She never knew what happened between them. She didn’t even know where her grandfather had gone off to until the letter, addressed to her father, found them. By that time her grandfather had passed away well over a year before, but the timing was providential where Cassie was concerned. She needed a place to go, a place to hide, a place where she could safely care for her mother, and a place that, God willing, she could eventually call home.

  Cassie had a vague memory of her grandfather from when she was a small girl. Sitting on his lap and looking in his pocket for hard candy. It felt like the memory belonged to another person as it was so long ago and from a time when her grandmother and father were both alive. Still, it was a fine memory, when she could stand it, which wasn’t often, as it reminded her too much of what she’d lost and what she’d never find again.

  She could still see the corn towering over her head on the farm in Illinois where her parents and grandparents had all lived together. She remembered spinning beneath the sky and chasing butterflies before her father scooped her up to sit on his shoulders so she’d be closer to the clouds that drifted across the sky. Twenty years felt like several lifetimes to Cassie, and yet the memories were still fresh, when she allowed them to come out.

  “Well bless your heart you are a tiny thing,” the woman said as she looked her over. “Sam’s granddaughter. And what might your name be?”

  “Cassandra Parker.”

  “Well now, isn’t that just the sweetest thing? Your father was Sam’s son?”

  “Yes, ma’am, he was. He died in the war and my grandmother soon after. My grandfather came west after that.” Cassie did not volunteer any other information.

  She should have known better. The woman stuck her nose right in the middle of where it didn’t belong. “And where is your mother?”

  “At the ranch,” Cassie said, determined not to share any more.

  The storekeeper’s gaze was questioning as she looked Cassie over from the top of her shorn head to the tip of her boy’s boot. “And you never married. Now isn’t that a shame?” she said with a smile.

  It didn’t matter the town or the territory. People were the same no matter where you went, always interested in everybody else’s business. Still, her marital state or lack thereof was none of this storekeeper’s business, so Cassie ignored the comment. She knew trouble would find her soon enough; she didn’t need to invite it in.

  “Gus! Gus come out here,” the woman called in a shrill voice through an open door at the end of the counter and then turned back to Cassie. “I’m Bettina Swanson and my husband is Gus, the mayor. He can tell you where to go to claim your granddaddy’s land.”

  Cassie double-checked to confirm that she was alone in the store and no one blocked the exit. She had no reason to be worried about the storekeeper; still, she put her hand in her left pocket to make sure the pistol she always kept on her person was handy, just in case.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Cassie relaxed when she saw the shop owner was small and unassuming with a friendly smile and a worn-down countenance. His wife ran roughshod over him. Cassie was good at reading people. She’d had to be to survive.

  “Gus, this is Sam Parker’s granddaughter. And she’s here to stay. Already moved in.” While the grocer’s wife explained to her husband how Cassie had inherited her grandfather’s land, Cassie studied the contents of the store.

  You could tell it was nearing the end of winter just by looking around. Everything was picked over and the candy jars on the counter were low, with just a few pieces left in each of them. Cassie surely had a weakness for candy and her sweet tooth ached at the thought of reaching into one of those jars and pulling out a piece of peppermint, or even better, indulging in a bar of chocolate. It had been awhile since she’d had either.

  The dry goods looked as picked over as the candy. Bolts of fabric in drab colors were spread out on a table. A container of more gaily colored ribbon stood in the middle of the table, as an encouragement to add a finishing touch to whatever material you chose.

  Cassie did
n’t own a dress or a skirt. Boys’ clothing suited her just fine. There was a time in her life when she would have run her hand over the fabric and held up the ribbons to a mirror to see which would flatter the pale blond color of her hair, but that time was behind her. She had no desire to call attention to her hair or any other part of her body.

  Another table held a supply of jeans and heavy shirts of flannel and denim. Cassie had heard there were mines in the area and the clothes befitted the population. A shelf along the wall held an assortment of pots, pans, plates and mugs made from tin and covered over with blue-spotted enamel. Another shelf held boots of different styles, all lined up according to size. Then there were blankets and coats and all the other accoutrements of everyday life. The counter where the Swansons stood held glass bins that were low on dried beans, while the shelves behind them held crocks marked with other necessities such as sugar and coffee. A few sacks of flour sat on the floor around a large barrel.

  The pickings were slim but it would be enough to get them through until the store had a delivery.

  “Jake said he found instructions in a Bible about who to notify when he found Sam,” Gus said. “It looks like the letter found you.”

  “You never told me that,” Bettina interrupted.

  “It wasn’t anything you needed to know,” Gus replied.

  Cassie arched an eyebrow. Maybe Gus wasn’t so henpecked after all.

  “Jake lives in the next valley over. He was the one who found your grandfather and wrote the letter,” Gus explained.

  Cassie nodded. She had the letter in her pocket, just in case she needed it to claim the property. It was thorough and to the point and signed by a man named Jacob Reece. Sam had sat down in his chair and died and he’d been buried beneath a tree behind his cabin.

  “There’s over a year’s worth of taxes due,” Gus added.

  “If you’ll send me in the right direction I’ll take care of it,” Cassie said. She hoped it wasn’t too expensive. She had a bit of money, but not much, and she had to make it last for a while.