by Multiple
Sam drew Corona to a stop with Micah lagging behind a pace or two.
“Pa.”
“Samuel.” The man’s voice boomed, low and earthy, like thunder rumbling across the prairie. But it wasn’t Sam he was looking at and Scarlett felt herself shrinking under his regard.
The man didn’t slow until he arrived at their side. He pulled a knife from his belt and reached for the rope at her wrists. Flame threatened to engulf her fingertips as the steel flashed so closely to them, but the ropes just fell away at the touch of the knife, blood rushing painfully back into her numb hands.
“Pa, she’s a prisoner.”
“She’s a lady and I brought my sons up better than to be tying women to horses and dragging them out half the night on a ride. You set her down here this instant.”
Behind them Micah snickered, which only earned him a baleful look from the older man. “I don’t pay you for gaping at our guests, Micah. Get to work.”
“Yes, sir.” There was a tinge of a salute in those words and Micah nudged his mare to circle around them, catching Scarlett’s gaze as he went. “I’ll see you at lunch, Miss Scarlett.”
Scarlett wasn’t sure whether to smile and answer, so she just rubbed t her wrists, grateful to be free. Sam was shifting behind her and nudging her thigh to lift it. It took a little effort and help on his part to slide her leg over the pommel and then she was falling, but his father was there to steady her as her numb legs screamed in protest at the change in position.
“Pa, before you go setting her up in a guest room…” But Sam never got to finish the sentence, the older man was already picking Scarlett up and while she was grateful for the assistance, she was dwarfed by his booming presence.
“Tend your horse. Then get yourself back up here lickety split. I’ll take care of our guest.”
Scarlett caught a glimpse of Sam’s thunderstruck expression as his father carted her into the house. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But instead of following them, Sam turned the mare towards the barn, following after his brother with a shake of his head.
Then she lost sight of him altogether as his father carried her into the house. The inside was just as grand as the outside. “Lena!” He boomed, his boots thumping against the polished wooden floor.
A cocoa skinned woman appeared at the end of the hall drying her hands on a towel. Her hair was wrapped up in a white scarf and a cheerful yellow apron protected her deep blue gingham dress from whatever she’d been doing.
“Oh my.” The woman was older than she appeared. Younger than Sam’s father, but older than Sam. She had kind eyes and a warm smile. She took in Scarlett’s disheveled appearance with quick appraisal. “Which one of your boys is in trouble now?”
“Samuel.” His father all but growled and Scarlett winced. She felt bad for the marshal.
“Sir?” She said the word carefully, not sure of her precarious position since he was carrying her and she was technically a prisoner.
“Yes, ma’am?” Cool blue eyes met hers easily, and she had the distinct impression that he didn’t miss anything when he set his gaze to it.
“In his defense, I did rob the bank.” It wasn’t a flattering to her, but she didn’t want to get Sam in any more trouble than he was in.
“Did you now?” His father set her down slowly, keeping one hand on her arm to steady her. Lena drew abreast of them and gave her an encouraging smile.
“I’m afraid so.” Shame stung her cheeks and she found it hard to meet Mr. Kane’s gaze. Her shirt had come untucked, her legs were weak and threatening to buckle and she didn’t want to even imagine the tangled mess her hair had become during the ride.
“Well, we’ll sort it out. In the meanwhile, you let Lena take care of you. Welcome to the Flying K, Miss…”
“Scarlett.”
“Miss Scarlett it is then. You go with Lena now. She can help you draw a bath and find you some food and a change of clothes.” He turned his gaze to the other woman. “If you don’t mind, Miss Lena. I know you were baking this morning and you don’t like to have your baking interrupted.”
“I don’t mind at all. Most of the pies are ready for the oven as it is, so I’ll just get our guest settled and finish that.”
“Thank you. I think the blue room for her.” The man’s humbleness was at odds with his great voice and spectacular size, but Lena gave him an affectionate look before capturing Scarlett’s hand and tucking it into her arm.
“As you wish. Go deal with your boys, you’ll be a sore bear until you do.”
“Right then.” And with that, he abandoned Scarlett to the older woman with a polite nod.
Scarlett stared after him and then looked at Lena, bewildered.
“Mister Kane has firm ideas on how one treats a lady, all ladies. Now let’s get you settled. You smell like a horse and not a particularly nice one and you can tell me all about robbing a bank. Was it exciting?”
Chapter Five
Sam stripped the buckles, pulling the heavy weight of the saddle off Corona’s back. The mare’s tail flicked from side to side, slapping away the occasional fly buzzing around her sweaty flanks. Her back was a striped mass of foamy, sweat-dampened hair. He stroked a hand over her neck, rubbing gently before dropping the saddle on a wooden stand and hanging the blanket up to dry.
The halter, reins and bit came next. He hung them on a peg next to Corona’s stall. He wasn’t surprised that Corona’s stall was layered with fresh, clean and dry straw. His father kept every horse stall ready for an occupant and it didn’t matter that Sam moved to town, kept a house there, or paid for a stall at the livery, like Sam, his mare always had a home on the Flying K.
He used dry clothes to start rubbing the mare down, strokes even and firm to alleviate the muscle stress and dry the sweat. He knew his father entered the barn long before he arrived at the stall. He tossed a glance over his shoulder to see his father standing next to the saddle.
“Pa.”
“Samuel.” His father checked the buckles on the saddle, his fingers stroking a rip around the metal loops Sam used for running rope if he needed too. “This saddle is in piss-poor shape, boy. You’ll oil and tend it before you head up to the house.”
“Pa,” Sam sighed, pausing in Corona’s rub down to look at his father. The man’s expression challenged him to speak up. “I will take care of the saddle, but you need to make sure that Scarlett is locked up. At least until I get up there.”
“I’ll do no such thing.” Jebidiah Kane folded his arms across his chest, disapproval turning the corners of his mouth down. “You know better than to treat a lady as you have. Lena will see to her, find her some clean clothes to wear and we’ll sit down and discuss it this evening when Jason arrives.”
“Jason?” Sam frowned. Jason Kane was an attorney. He’d gone back East to school, studied in Boston and New York before returning to Texas and the Flying K. Now he covered their family’s business interests, traveling around the state, as he was needed. “I thought he was in Yellow River.”
“He was. He is due back sometime today, I expect by sundown. He’s not a fan of the saddle and is likely using the buckboard, which will slow him some, but I’ve delayed dinner until seven.”
An invitation to dine at Mr. Kane’s table required a wash up and proper dress. While Sunday best wasn’t required, most of the ranch hands kept at least one nice suit after their first year, understanding that boots, work wear and sweat were not welcome at Miss Molly’s table. The family had dressed for supper for all of Sam’s life. That was how Miss Molly was raised and she imparted that requirement onto her children and after her passing, Jed continued to enforce it.
“There’s nothing to discuss, Pa. I caught her in the bank, red-handed and the gold is gone.” Sam turned his attention back to the mare. It was better to keep his hands steady and his temper even. Particularly if his father was going to take up Scarlett’s cause.
“Then I expect you ha
ve the gold back, seeing as how you caught her in the bank.”
And that was the crux of it. Sam didn’t have the gold back. “She wasn’t alone.” Sam sighed, trading the cloth for a gentle brush and began stroking it over the mare’s neck and down her flanks. Corona leaned into the brush, nickering as he found sensitive spots and lathered attention to them. “There was a whole gang, the others left her when they were spotted. Kid is leading the posse chasing them down.”
“Hmmm.”
“What?” If there was one sound that gave Sam pause it was the long exhale of breath that indicated his father was mulling a problem over.
“Sounds to me like she is a victim. What lady do you know robs a bank willy-nilly? And if she was with a group, maybe she was their prisoner. You might have done her a favor by scooping her out of their hands.”
Sam fixed a stare over Corona’s back and looked at the wood. There were two new boards where old ones had been damaged over the years. They were fresher, greener and not yet painted. Likely a job that was waiting for the summer heat to lull in the few weeks before autumn rain would come daily.
“Pa, she was working with them. I saw her hand off one of the last bags to the others, she ushered him out and told him to come back for her. That doesn’t sound like she was under much coercion to me.”
“Mayhap. You have to remember, ladies are a gentle species. As a rule, they work hard to care for the men folk in their lives. If she’s mixed up with the wrong element, then it's our duty to see to it she has better options.” Jebidiah Kane was no fool, but he did have his blind spots.
Sam patted Corona’s neck, finishing off her grooming and dropping the brush into a bucket. He stepped out of the stall and accepted three squares of hay his father was already passing to him. He dropped them into the feed bucket and checked the water one of the hands had carried in when he led Corona inside.
Thankfully, Micah had taken their father’s words to heart and gotten back to work.
“Pa.” Sam was tired, his muscles tight from the long ride and the torment of holding her against him left him aching elsewhere.
“What? Why would you bring her out here if you didn’t expect me to get involved?” It was a fair question. The Kane name curried a lot of favor and the Kane influence stretched further than that. His father was well respected both in Dorado and throughout the state. If he wanted to make something happen, he would whether Sam liked it or not.
“Because Ryker and his boys are already whipping the town into a frenzy. They’ll be coming for her to string her up. She was safer here at the ranch than she would be in town.”
Jed’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching tight until a muscle began to tick in his cheek. Rousing his father’s temper wasn’t the best plan, but Sam needed him to see sense.
“Not to mention if her gang does turn around to come for her, I wanted her out of sight. There’s only me, Cobb and Kid at the office. It’s safer for the town and for Scarlett if she isn’t where people are expecting to find her.”
His father nodded once. “I’ll call the boys back from town and double up the sentry rides for a few nights. Ryker’s an idiot, but I’ll shoot him if he shows up on my land intending harm to our guest.”
“Pa—”
“See to your saddle and yourself. Then come up to the house for lunch.” His father was already striding up the long aisle in the barn, leaving Sam gaping after him. Corona nickered at him from the stall and he sighed.
“Yeah, I knew better.” But reached for the saddle and bridle regardless. He would trust his father and Lena to at least keep Scarlett at the house until he finished.
It was nearing the noon hour by the time Sam made his way back from the pond. He’d found clean clothes, a towel and a bar of soap waiting for him next to the stall. Subtle was not his father’s nature. He stored his freshly oiled and repaired saddle and bridle before carrying the rest to one of the washing ponds. Hidden in a grotto of trees, he stripped out of his sweaty clothes and dove into the water. He swam, listening to the lazy hum of summer bees gathering and the occasional bird cry.
The hum of life surrounded him on all sides. Children playing at the cabins, women chattering as they tended to their vegetable gardens and laundry, the men riding in or out on their way or coming back from tasks that needed their attention.
Farther away, horses nickered and whinnied sunning themselves and grazing in their off hours. It was life at the Flying K and it soothed the frayed edges of his temper. He soaped himself, paying attention to washing all traces of sweat and dirt from his hair and face. He needed a shave, but since there’d been no straight razor with the soap and towel, he’d have to make do without one for now.
He dried himself in the sun, dressing in the familiar breeches and pressed shirts that his father expected at a meal table before pulling his own boots back on. They were dusty, dented and worn from use, but like the lack of a shave, they would have to do.
At the main house, he dropped his dirty clothes bundle in the laundry pile. He kept other gear here, so when he needed to change to ride back to town, he would take those and pick up this lot on his next visit.
He finger combed his hair and walked through the house to the dining room. He was tempted to check on Scarlett, but the meal bell had already rung. By the second ring, he could kiss his hope of food goodbye. His father waited a table for no one and if you weren’t seated on time, you didn’t eat until the next meal.
Still, it shocked him to walk into his mother’s dining room with its imported English oak table and chairs, the fine china carried by covered wagon from the sea ports in Charleston to find Scarlett installed at his father’s right hand with Micah sitting in close attendance on her right.
At least he thought it was Scarlett.
Her wild mane of red hair had been tamed into an elegant pile on the back of her head. She’d traded her gingham shirt and boy britches for a dress of green velvet, cinched tightly under her bosom and displaying a healthy amount of creamy cleavage for admiration.
But it was the smile, the wide open, sunshine that lit up her face that struck him in the solar plexus. She was looking at Jed with such a warm, good humor that he felt an uncomfortable tug of an emotion he barely recognized souring in his belly.
Jed noticed him before Micah or Scarlett and jerked his chin towards the chair on his left. “Stop standing in the door like you need an invitation, Samuel. Sit down. We’ve waited this meal long enough.”
Much to his disappointment, Scarlett’s sunny smile winked out as though smothered by dark clouds at Jed’s words. She looked from his father to him before focusing on her plate. Red suffused the pale skin of her neck and spread like a stain across the creamy, exposure of flesh.
Was she embarrassed that he caught her enjoying herself? Good. The grumpy thought wasn’t at all like him, but he set his hat on the stand to the right of the entranceway and walked around the table. He was tempted to kick Micah out of his chair, but it wasn’t worth the fight with his father to be so rude.
Instead, he sat and nodded to Scarlett, as polite as he could muster. “Pa. Micah.” But he didn’t say anything to her. She was a prisoner dammit, not a guest and the last thing she should be doing was sit down to a meal with his family.
A boot caught his shin under the table and Sam jerked his gaze to his father. He saw the warning in his eyes and sighed.
“Miss Scarlett.”
“Marshal.” Her voice was the same, low, throaty whisper he recalled from their ride, but it seemed softer, gentler somehow in the warm afternoon sun.
Miss Annabeth and Lena bustling into the room preempted further conversation. As if on cue, all three Kane men rose to their feet. When a lady stood, so did the Kanes, it didn’t matter who the ladies were. Scarlett watched the pageantry of the meal being served with a bewildered expression.
Miss Annabeth set a plate in front of her first, loaded up with hot chicken, mashed potatoes and greens. She set a
basket of fresh bread in the center and Lena placed two more plates in front of Jed and Micah, a fourth was quickly fetched for Sam.
The men remained on their feet until the plates were settled and the women smiled. Miss Annabeth paused to give Sam an affectionate buss on the cheek. “Is good to have you home, Mister Samuel. Now, all of you eat. My Lena’s made some fresh apple pies and I’m of a mind to let you each have a slice if you do our meal justice.”
“Will you be joining us Miss Annabeth?” Sam didn’t have to pretend the desire for the older woman to share their table. Like his mother, Miss Annabeth hailed from Virginia. She’d come west with Molly when Molly married Jed Kane. But as a wedding present, his father had purchased Miss Annabeth and granted her freedom. Still, the woman insisted on coming west with Molly, she’d been a nursemaid to Molly her whole life and when Molly passed, she’d raised Molly’s boys as though they were her own.
“Not today, sweet boy.” She patted his cheek. “Our Lena has been sparking with one of the new hands and they’ve a mind for a picnic.”
Lena coughed, dropping her eyes as Sam looked at her with interest. Lena was a fantastic cook and a sweetheart. Unsurprisingly, Jed simply nodded. “I’ve already had a word with the boy, his intentions are honorable.”
Miss Annabeth smiled and gave Micah a similar affectionate head pat as she circled the table. “I know you did, Mister Jed. He was plum quaking when he came calling this morning.”
“Good.” Jed gave Lena an indulgent look. “You make him court you proper, young lady. Your momma is a wise woman, she put me through my paces with Miss Molly, you let her do the same for you.”
“Yes, sir.” Lena all but fled the room, embarrassment trailing behind her. Annabeth chuckled as she watched her daughter go.
