by Robin Deeter
In her room, she undressed and lay down on the bed she’d shared with her husband. Putting her hand over on Walt’s side, she said, “I know you understand, honey. I tried to stick it out, but I just can’t take it anymore. I kept hoping that the old buzzard would die, but he’s too ornery to do me that favor. I don’t have a choice. Please don’t be mad at me.”
Patting the bed as though Walt laid there, Leigh wished for the billionth time that her husband really was lying beside her. If he was, she wouldn’t have to leave. Walt had never taken any guff from Pete and he’d always made sure that Pete had toed the line where she’d been concerned.
Loneliness and grief rose up in her chest, bubbling forth in a quiet sob. Leigh rolled over towards Walt’s side and buried her face in the pillow, letting her sadness out as she cried silently. After a bit, she pulled herself together, brushing her tears away, and putting her pain away again in the place deep inside where she rarely ever went anymore.
For the remainder of the night, she dozed fitfully, not truly resting. She was up and dressed before the sun shone down on the ranch. Slinging her big, leather, mail bag over her shoulder, Leigh looked around at the room, memories of her husband flowing through her mind. Walt had been her world and it had shattered when he’d died from the wounds he’d sustained from being trampled by a bull.
Fighting another crying jag, Leigh walked from the room, down the stairs, and out into the muggy morning. She’d asked that none of the hands come to see her off, instead preferring to say her goodbyes the night before. It would be too hard to see them again that morning. She’d already shipped her two trunks the week before, not wanting the hassle of traveling with them since there were several train changes between Beckham, Massachusetts and Chance City, Oklahoma. She’d also be able to give Cutter the attention he’d need during the journey if she didn’t have to worry about luggage.
Quickly, she saddled Cutter, who was restless. He’d picked up on her own feelings. She soothed him before she led him from the barn. As she mounted and adjusted her bag, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Stan had just come out of his bunkhouse. They stared at each other silently for several moments. Stan raised his hand, giving her a slow wave of farewell, which Leigh returned. Then she dropped her arm and turned Cutter down the drive, leaving one life behind and facing the one ahead of her.
Chapter 5
“Aren’t you nervous at all?” Daphne asked her brother.
They stood waiting on the train depot platform for his soon-to-be bride’s arrival.
He shrugged. “Curious, but not nervous. Would it make you feel better if I was as nervous as you are?”
Daphne frowned at his teasing. “This is serious, Cy. Once you marry her, there’s no going back.”
“That’s what divorce is for,” he said, winking.
“You’re awful,” Daphne responded.
“Look, I know that nothing about this situation is ideal, but we’re doing the best we can. I’m doing the best I can. Marrying a woman who has the know-how to improve our ranch is our best bet at this point. We’ve been over this.”
“I know, but I can’t help but worry about it.”
Cy put an arm around her and squeezed her a little. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
Daphne nodded, but her apprehension remained. “Any more news about those men?”
Cy welcomed her change of subject to the bank robbers he’d been after. “No, but I’m sure Marshal Burrows will find them.”
“Do you still think that they headed for Mexico?”
“Yeah. That’s what I’d do. They’re smart guys to have pulled this off. I just feel bad for that teller they blackmailed into helping them. I knew they’d had inside help,” Cy replied.
A train whistle sounded and they fell silent. Cy’s nerves kicked up, but he kept his nonchalant demeanor in place. Despite what he’d said to Daphne, he had his own misgivings about his decision, but he was determined to make it work. Keeping their ranch depended on it. As the train chugged closer to them, Cy’s heartbeat kept time with the increasingly loud sound.
Once the black, metal beast rolled to a stop, Cy stepped forward, Daphne at his side. People disembarked, going on their way, but no woman matching Leigh’s description got off the train.
Cy strode over to the conductor. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Leigh Hawthorne. She was supposed to be on the train. Brown hair, green eyes?”
The conductor rolled his eyes. “Oh, her. There she is now.”
Cy looked where he pointed, wondering at the conductor’s disdain. The ramp from the cattle car had been lowered. Someone walked down it, leading a horse. Cy took her measure as she neared them. She stood around five-seven and the jeans and plain white blouse she wore emphasized her lithe curves. His lips curved into a satisfied smile as he noted her confident, slightly rolling gait. Leigh Hawthorne was no lady of leisure. She was exactly what she’d told him she was—a farm girl through and through.
Leigh glanced towards the depot and saw a man and woman descend the platform steps to the dirt lot next to it. The man striding towards her wore jeans and a blue Western shirt. Her gaze traveled up his long legs, over his trim hips and stomach, to his wide shoulders and strong arms.
Those attributes alone were enough to make her heart beat a little faster, but as they came to stand before each other, Leigh found herself trapped by his dark gaze.
“Mrs. Hawthorne?” he asked.
His baritone voice washed over her and she broke out in gooseflesh despite the hot temperature.
“That’s right,” she said. “And you’re Mr. Decker.”
He nodded, taking in her amazing green eyes, straight, patrician nose, and pretty, pink lips. The bridge of her nose and her cheeks were attractively sprinkled with freckles, denoting the fact that she spent a lot of time outdoors. Small, delicate ears, around which tendrils of light brown hair curled, sat below the brown, leather cowboy hat she wore.
Leigh studied him as closely as he did her, finding herself fascinated with his dusky skin, midnight eyes, and full, sensual mouth. She stifled the urge to trace one of his well-defined cheekbones with her fingertips. Letting her gaze roam over him, she smiled up into his eyes.
“Not bad, Cyrus. Not bad at all,” she said.
Cy felt as though he was a stallion on sale at an auction and darn it if he didn’t feel proud that she’d found him pleasing. It was the first time he could ever remember a woman he’d just met openly praising his appearance. Her forward behavior amused him.
“I’m glad you approve. Likewise.”
To most women, his short statement might not have seemed like much of a compliment. However, the appreciative gleam in his eyes which accompanied the words told Leigh just as much as if he’d have showered her with flattery.
“Thanks,” she said.
Cy nodded. “This is my sister, Daphne.”
Leigh smiled at the other woman, who looked much like Cy, only shorter in stature. “Pleased to meet you, Daphne. Just call me Leigh.”
Daphne shook hands with Leigh, noting the strength in her grip. “Nice to meet you, too. Who’s your friend there?”
Leigh stepped back to her horse. “This is Cutter. I rode the last leg of the trip in the horse car with him because he was gettin’ antsy. He’s never traveled on a train before and it was a long trip.”
Cy let Cutter get his scent and ran a hand over his neck, talking to the stallion. “He’s a beauty.”
“Thanks.”
Daphne said, “Well, let’s get you home so we can get you something to eat and let you rest.”
Leigh said, “Oh, I’m rested plenty. It feels good to move around, but I could stand some food. And to clean up. I smell like Cutter and horse poop.”
To Daphne’s surprise, Cy laughed outright at her crude remark. She wasn’t the only one mesmerized by the way his grin enhanced his striking features. Leigh laughed with him, but she couldn’t take her eyes from him as his smile revealed hi
s nice, white teeth.
Cy said, “I didn’t notice that you stank, but then again, I’m used to being around horses and dogs so much that I wouldn’t think anything of it if you did. I didn’t know you were bringing your horse. I brought the wagon, so I’ll put your bag in there for you. Your trunks are in your room at the house.”
“Great,” she said, handing him her bag.
They walked to the wagon and Cy put her bag in it before helping Daphne onto the seat. Since she’d already saddled Cutter, Leigh swung up on his back. Her practiced movements told Cy that she was indeed an experienced horsewoman. She sat Cutter well, neither too relaxed nor too stiff.
Leigh’s legs were shapely under her jeans and he could well imagine them wrapped around him. Halting those kinds of thoughts, he took up the lines and clicked his tongue at the horses. They started moving and Leigh rode alongside the wagon next to Cy.
“How many head of cattle will you have after the sale?” she asked.
Cy liked that she got right down to business. It showed him she had a good work ethic and she was genuinely interested in the operation. On the way home, the three of them discussed the ranch in between Cy and Daphne telling her about Chance City and showing her various businesses as they went.
It seemed strange to Leigh that although a lot of people looked at Cy, not a lot of them waved to Cy and Daphne. Their expressions said that they recognized him, but they didn’t have favorable opinions of the Deckers. It made her feel protective toward the people who would soon be her new family.
Cy noticed that Leigh narrowed her eyes and stared down a few people and barely suppressed a smile. His future wife was no pushover. He was glad to see that she was a strong woman because being married to him wouldn’t be a walk in the park.
“I hope you don’t plan on making a lot of friends,” he remarked to her.
She got his meaning. “I don’t need a lot of friends. I just need a few good ones.”
Her answer pleased him. “Good to hear.”
“Decker!”
Leigh thought she heard Cy growl, but she wasn’t sure. Judging by the dark look on his face, she figured that she was probably right.
A man wearing black trousers, a white shirt, and a black vest to which was pinned a badge, rode up to the wagon. His blue eyes swept over Leigh, noting that she wore jeans. He was surprised by her attire, but refrained from commenting. Instead, he quickly turned towards Cy.
“Brock Guthrie, this is Leigh Hawthorne, my bride-to-be,” Cy said. “Brock is one of the deputies I work with.”
Leigh leaned towards Brock a little and held out a hand to him. He smiled and shook it.
“Well, Cy has himself a looker. I couldn’t believe it when he told us he was getting married,” Brock said.
He concentrated mostly on Leigh and Cy, but he kept glancing over at Daphne every so often.
“You can believe it,” Leigh said. “It’s nice to meet a friend of Cy’s.”
Brock’s expression turned hard and Leigh then knew that the two men were anything but friendly. He turned his attention to Cy.
“Rob wants to talk to you later.”
“Why? Is there another case he wants me to work on?” Cy asked.
Brock’s tone turned angry. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. Just go see him and find out for yourself.” He touched the brim of his hat to Leigh and Daphne. “Ladies, have a good day.”
He trotted on ahead and Cy’s jaw clenched as he noticed Daphne watching him ride away. “Tobo?ihupiitᵾ. Ai.”
Daphne gave him a sharp look and frowned. In Comanche, she said, “Do not tell me to stop, as though I am some young girl. And I do not care if you are disgusted.”
“I do not understand what you see in him when he hates what we are. What you are. Do not torture yourself with dreams of something that will never be. I learned that lesson and so should you.”
Daphne said, “Your situation is different than mine.”
Cy shook his head. “No, it is not. We both want something that we can never have. The only difference is that I know it and I am moving on.”
Daphne’s temper ratcheted up a notch. “Are you? The only reason you are marrying her is to save our ranch. I do not call that truly moving on. Not in your heart.”
Cy’s hands tightened on the lines, but he remained silent.
Daphne said, “This is not the time to discuss this. We are being rude.”
“I do not want to discuss it anymore at all. There is no point. You know my feelings about it, but if you want to pine for him, go ahead. But you are right about us being rude,” Cy said. He turned back to Leigh. “I’m glad that Cutter made the trip all right. Did you have enough money for the trip?”
Leigh’s gaze flicked back and forth between the siblings, but she didn’t remark on their tense exchange. “I had plenty. I paid for Cutter’s passage with my own money, though. I didn’t use all of yours, either. I’ll give it back to you.”
“Keep it,” Cy said.
As they left the city behind them, Leigh saw Cy’s shoulders relax. Daphne ignored Cy, making Leigh wonder what they’d argued about. She surmised that it had something to do with Brock, but she didn’t know what. Their previous easy conversation didn’t resume, and Leigh didn’t push it.
She used the time to look over the landscape before her, noting that the rural area they traveled through was much more arid than her farm in Beckham. Fields stretched out before them, filled with various crops, but some of the wheat was stunted from the drought. She saw why Cy was concerned.
If the grazing for the steer was so inferior, they wouldn’t fatten up over the summer, which meant that they wouldn’t bring a good price in the fall. She made a mental note to have Cy show her the nearest water source in the morning. Although his longhorns were different than her Hereford cattle, she was confident that she could improve the herd. She also had some ideas about diversifying.
“Well, there it is. Sundance Ranch, home sweet home,” Cy said.
Leigh arched an eyebrow when she saw the recently patched up barn, the house that needed a good paint job, and a few bunkhouses that had seen better days. Oh, boy. He wasn’t kidding about how bad things are. Looks like I got my work cut out for me. Instead of filling her with dread, the prospect of taking on the ranch and improving it gave her a satisfying sense of purpose. Soon it would be her ranch, too. She grinned as enthusiasm took hold of her.
Cy wondered what she was smiling at. “I know it looks bad—”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s beautiful,” Leigh said.
Daphne smiled. “You think it’s beautiful?”
Leigh nodded. “Yeah. The possibilities are endless and we can make it the way we want it. Just like an artist lookin’ at a blank canvas. We’re the artists and this ranch is our blank canvas.”
Cy liked her creative take on the situation, and his regard for her went up a notch. Turning in the lane, he let out a shrill whistle. Slink came out from behind the barn, racing for the wagon in a white-and-brindle blur. Burt followed closely with Pudge bringing up the rear.
The two bigger dogs slowed as they approached the new horse and rider cautiously until they saw whether or not the horse was friendly. Cutter was used to dogs, however, and ignored them. Burt and Slink jumped up into the wagon, but Pudge couldn’t make it. He ran panting along behind it as Cy took it to the barn.
“Sorry, boys. Short ride,” Cy said, jumping down after stopping the vehicle.
Daphne didn’t wait for him to help her down. “I’m going to go on up to the house and see to lunch,” she said with a tight smile at Leigh.
Leigh dismounted and watched her go. “Boy, you sure pissed her off.”
Cy didn’t answer as he started unhitching the team. Leigh ground tied Cutter and helped him. He liked the easy way she worked and the way her backside moved under her jeans. He’d been prepared to marry Leigh no matter what she looked like, but it sure didn’t hurt that she was attractive.
Working t
ogether, they soon had all three horses rubbed down and in their stalls. Cy had introduced Leigh to the dogs, who made friends easily with people, and he was glad that Leigh enjoyed dogs. Another thing in her favor.
As they walked over to the house, he said, “No feeding the dogs from the table. I don’t let them beg. They know that they get the scraps, but I only put them in their bowls. It’s the only place they’ll eat from.”
“How come?” Leigh asked.
“When I still worked for Pinkerton’s, I used them in my work, and I wouldn’t take the chance that someone would poison them. So I’m the only one who feeds them. They won’t take food from strangers. If I start feeding them from the table, they’ll think it’s okay for them to do it with other people,” Cy explained. “It could get them killed if they did.”
Leigh gave him a sharp look. “Do you think someone around here would poison one of them?”
“They might. I don’t put anything past anyone where me or my family are concerned.”
She put a hand on his arm to halt him. “Is it really that bad? I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with, Cy. It’s only right.”
Her touch made his heart jump a little and a little dart of desire hit him as he looked into her beautiful eyes. “Yeah, it’s that bad. The Comanche have fought with everyone from the Spaniards, to other Indians, to the whites. I know what a lot of our ancestors did, and some not that awful long ago.
“There’s been a lot of blood spilled by Comanche hands, but there’s been a lot of blood spilled by a lot of other people, too. But around here, everyone has really long memories about the stuff the Comanche did. Even though most of my family never participated in any of that, they still blame us just because we have Comanche blood in our veins. So our family doesn’t have a lot of friends and neither will you once you marry me.”
The hard edge to his words revealed the resentment that sat just under the surface. His eyes were bright with it and Leigh felt badly for him. She stifled it, though, knowing that he wouldn’t want her pity.
“Like I told you, Cy, I don’t need a lot of friends. Just a few good ones. Besides, I’m gonna be too busy around here to worry about a lot of socializing,” she said. “So don’t worry about me. You got enough on your plate with being a hot shot detective.”
