“He’s hard to understand.”
Emma turned her gaze to Blaine. “Who?”
He chuckled. “Quinn. He’s always said he doesn’t plan to settle down and marry.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you believe him?”
Blaine glanced at her, then shook his head. “Nae. He’s more tied to the land than any of us, which tells me he’s already settled down. The lad just hasn’t accepted it.”
They walked a few more steps in silence.
“And marriage?”
“Ach, who knows? Like I said, his reasons are sometimes difficult to understand. It may have something to do with Uncle Gillis dying.”
“I’m certain losing his da was hard, but I wouldn’t think it would change the way he thinks about marriage. Your father was murdered with Gillis. Colin married Sarah anyway, and you…”
A sly grin crossed his face. “Aye, lass. I plan to marry someday. Finding the right lass? That’s another story.”
Nudging him with her shoulder, Emma smiled. “When you’re ready, I’m certain you’ll have no problem attracting the right woman. Besides, I know of at least—” She clamped a hand over her mouth. Emma couldn’t believe she’d been ready to blurt out the names of at least two young women who’d be thrilled to have Blaine court them.
“You know of at least what?” Blaine prodded.
Dropping her hand, she refused to meet his gaze, feeling her face flush. “Nothing.”
“Sounded like more than nothing, lass.”
“All I’ll say is when you’re ready, I don’t think you’ll have any problem finding a suitable woman.”
Blaine didn’t respond, keeping his gaze focused on the house ahead, for which Emma was grateful. She didn’t need anyone to tell her Blaine had an interest in her. He hadn’t even tried to hide it. As was true of all the MacLarens, he was handsome, smart, and worked hard. Any woman would be honored to have Blaine court her. Any woman except her. She hoped he didn’t ask because she had no desire to hurt him.
Emma had already given her heart to one MacLaren. Even after what Quinn had said, she couldn’t seem to break her thin thread of hope and leave her dreams of loving him behind.
Chapter Nine
“I’m sorry, Mr. Pearce. There isn’t much more I can do.”
Big Jim didn’t reply as he held the bank notice telling him of the eminent foreclose if he didn’t pay off the loan due three months earlier. Gertie knew nothing of the credit he’d taken out not long after Jimmy died. There’d been no reason to tell her. He’d made the payments on time every month until several hundred dollars remained. It might as well have been a few thousand.
The money he’d set aside for the loan had gone to pay Quinn’s wages, which he gave directly to Ewan—an agreement Big Jim had insisted on with the elder MacLaren. Now the money went to pay Boyd Doggett, the new foreman. The bullets Big Jim had taken at the Christmas social impacted ranch profits more than he ever imagined.
Deegan James sat forward, his arms on the desk, hands clasped. “I’d have to get the board’s approval, but I might be able to go another thirty days.”
The slender, fair-skinned banker had moved to Conviction from St. Louis. After meeting with a group of investors, the decision had been made to open a branch of the San Francisco Merchant Bank—in competition with the Bank of Conviction, the other financial institution. August Fielder was the major shareholder.
At first, Big Jim had felt guilty about bypassing the bank where he held a position on the board. Now he felt grateful, not wanting his friends, men he respected and admired, to know the extent of his debt. Nodding, he stood.
“I’ll take the thirty days. I’d appreciate it if no one else knew about this.”
“Of course. I’ll let you know the decision within a few days.” Deegan walked around his desk, extending his hand. “I don’t want your ranch, Mr. Pearce. My understanding is cattle prices are stable right now.” Meaning if the cattle could get to market soon, they might fetch enough for Big Jim to pay off the loan and put some money into savings.
Big Jim looked at the banker, who stood several inches shorter than him. “Boyd and I plan to start moving the herd next week. I’m fortunate to have a buyer in Sacramento.”
“I wish you a safe, profitable trip.” Deegan held the side door open for Big Jim, the exit leading to the walkway between the bank and mercantile next door. It was the same door used by several of his customers who preferred to keep their dealings with the bank discreet.
Picking up the notes he’d made, Deegan walked into the main lobby, pausing at his secretary’s desk. “Please add these to Mr. Pearce’s file. As always, Mrs. Ulster, this information is confidential.”
The young widow nodded. “Of course, Mr. James.” She read his notes, taking a moment to add the information to a journal before slipping the paper into Big Jim’s file. With little thought, she opened her bottom drawer, set the journal inside, then turned the key. Placing it in her top drawer, she returned to her other work, her mind already occupied on the stew she planned for supper.
Boyd moved his gaze around the circle of young ranch hands. All were greenhorns except Holler, who’d grown up on a ranch and been on several cattle drives. Finn and Jory were hard workers, intelligent, and quick to learn. The other two young Irishmen did their best, but he didn’t believe they’d stay on after the cattle drive. Boyd already had to fire the boy from Louisiana when he caught him drunk while on the job. He hoped the other five would stay until they reached Sacramento.
“Holler, I want you and another man to check the brands on each of the animals we’ll be moving to Sacramento. Any issues, you bring them to me.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll work with Finn.”
Boyd looked at the other three ranch hands. “The rest of you will be working with me. We’re going to cull the herd, separating those we’ll be taking from those that aren’t ready to sell. The ones going on the drive will be moved into the large corral for Holler and Finn to check.” He watched heads nod, knowing none of them had ever done the job before. “Follow my lead and we’ll get through this today. Mr. Pearce intends to move the herd to Sacramento in a few days.”
“Do we all go on the drive, boss?”
“Yep, Jory. I need all of you. You’ll be paid when we get the herd to Sacramento.”
“Will you be needing us all to come back?” Finn glanced at the others, their expressions blank.
“There’s work if you return. If not, let me know after we deliver the herd. You can take your pay and head out.” Boyd didn’t expect all of them to return. It was a rare drive when he didn’t lose some of the men once they’d received their pay. “Let’s get to work.”
He watched Finn and Jory, talking in hushed tones, walk to their horses. The other two Irishmen walked behind them, immersed in their own conversation.
“We should move on, Finn. Find work in San Francisco or another cattle ranch closer to the ocean.”
“I’ve no mind to leave yet, Jory. The work here is good, and Big Jim pays us fair.” He glanced over his shoulder at Boyd. “Doggett knows his business and can teach us much. There’s no reason to go.”
Jory glared at him, his voice low and fierce. “You’re thinking of the Pearce gal instead of what we planned.”
Finn stopped, waited until the other men walked past, then shoved Jory into the shadows. “We’ll not be speaking of Miss Emma. She’s gone.”
“For now,” Jory hissed.
“It doesn’t matter how long she stays away. The girl is not for me.” He took a step closer, his face hardening. “We need the work. When we’ve saved enough, we’ll leave.”
Finn would never admit how much Emma had come to mean to him before she left to work at Circle M. His reputation in Cork had been that of a rake, never spending more than a short period with any gal, taking what she offered before moving on. The warmth he felt radiating from Emma made him want to own a piece of it, wrap his arms around it, and never let go. As a poor immig
rant boy with nothing in his pockets, only a dream to keep him going, he accepted a girl such as Emma was out of his reach. Someday, though…
“What of the others?” Jory nodded toward the two who were now yards ahead of them. His words pulled Finn’s attention back to the present.
“We brought them with us from Cork, as we agreed. They’ll be making their own plans once we reach Sacramento.”
Jory placed fisted hands on his hips, glaring at Finn before letting his gaze fall to the ground, accepting his cousin was right. The other two were friends who wanted to travel with them to America. He and Finn had agreed to bring them along. They fulfilled their promise and owed them nothing more. He let out a frustrated breath before glancing up.
“I’ll return with you after Doggett sells the cattle, staying through the summer. After that, I make no promises.”
Finn watched Jory storm away, wondering what had gotten him so all-fired mad. After their first week working for Big Jim, they’d agreed to stay at least two years, learn the business, save money, then decide about moving on. In his mind, nothing had changed. Clearly, Jory didn’t see it the same. Talking sense with his cousin never worked when anger took over. Finn would wait. There’d be time enough to figure out what ate at Jory between now and the time they returned from Sacramento. And if what Finn suspected came true, they and Holler would be the only ones coming back.
“Do you have the list?” Giles Delacroix leaned his heavy frame against the doorjamb, smoke from a cheroot streaming from his mouth to disappear into the night air. He wore all black, but they weren’t the clothes of a gunslinger. His were made of fine cloth, the vest brocade with silver threads, the boots of fine, polished leather. The only color came from his deep red beard, which matched his hair, and the handkerchief in his coat pocket.
“I have it right here.” Chester Bailey patted his coat pocket, taking a seat next to an old wood stove. A worn pallet topped with a thin, dirty mattress made up the rest of the furniture in the small cabin miles from Conviction. “Do you have the money?”
Giles tossed the cheroot on the floor, grinding it out with the heel of his boot, then pulled a pouch from inside his vest. Taking a couple steps, he tossed it on top of the stove.
“It’s all there…as we agreed. Now, I’d like the list.”
Chester stood, grabbed the pouch, feeling the weight, then smiled. Taking the list from his pocket, he reached out to hand it to Giles, grimacing when the man encircled his wrist in an iron grip.
“The information better be accurate. You won’t like the consequences if I find you’ve manipulated anything.” Giles dropped Chester’s wrist, but not before seeing the beads of sweat forming on the man’s forehead.
“I’d never do anything so foolish, Mr. Delacroix.” His voice shook as he took a few steps backward. “I value my life too much.”
“Glad to hear that.” Giles opened the paper, scanning the four names and balances owed.
“All of them have been extended a few weeks—”
“I can see that,” Giles interrupted.
Chester cleared his throat. “I doubt any will be able to come up with the money to pay the balances. There is always a chance, though. Mr. Pearce is taking his herd to Sacramento this week. If he gets a good price…” He shrugged, his words trailing off.
“And the others?”
Chester pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, mopping his brow. “Widow Jones barely keeps food on the table and hasn’t paid her only ranch hand in two months. I couldn’t find out anything on the other two.”
Giles nodded, slipping the list into a pocket. “You’ve been most helpful.” His gaze narrowed as he leveled a stern look at Chester. “I expect to hear from you if anything changes.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get word to you the usual way.” Chester pulled the door open and stepped outside, glad to have accomplished what Giles asked. His work for the man was finished. In a few days, Chester would take the steamboat south, with no intention of ever returning to Conviction.
Circle M
Exhausted and ready for a hot meal, Emma slid off Moonshine. Grabbing the reins, she followed Blaine and Caleb toward the barn, stopping and looking behind her when she heard shouting.
“What’s your Uncle Ewan waving in his hand?” Emma asked.
“I’ve no idea.” Blaine handed his horse’s reins to Caleb, then dashed toward his uncle. “What is it?” he shouted.
Ewan smiled, holding up a piece of paper as he closed the distance between them. “August Fielder made sure we heard the news.”
“What news?”
“Lee surrendered to Grant. The war is all but over.” Ewan glanced over Blaine’s shoulder, seeing Caleb and Emma running up.
“What happened?” Emma held a hand to her stomach, praying whatever news Ewan had wasn’t about Quinn. Seeing his relaxed features, the tilt of his lips, she realized it couldn’t be anything bad.
Ewan handed the message to her. “The South admitted defeat. Lee and Grant signed papers somewhere in Virginia. August Fielder believes it’s only a matter of time before President Lincoln declares a Union victory. The nation may finally have peace.”
Caleb snickered. “Until the next time men want to take something away from others.”
Ewan raised a brow. “You don’t believe we can have peace?”
“I’d like to, but we all came here from Scotland. When did we ever see a time of peace?” Caleb’s family had come to America a few years before the MacLarens. Although his brogue was slight, there was no mistaking his Scottish roots.
“Aye. You may be right, lad. But America is different. People here want the same things—honest work, a safe place to raise their family, a chance to end up better than the life they had before.”
“Perhaps. Seems to me they go about it in different ways.” Caleb shoved hands in his pockets, looking at the distant horizon. “We’ll see the kind of people who move here once peace is declared. I’ve a feeling we’ll get as many bad as good coming this way.”
“Don’t be so negative, Caleb.” Emma tapped him on the arm. “I’m sure many more good people than bad will seek a new life in the west. Don’t you think, Mr. MacLaren?”
Ewan crossed his arms, thinking over Caleb’s words. “What the lad says has merit. We could get the same border ruffians we saw in the old country. Those who lost homes and families. They didn’t care how they ate, even if they had to steal or kill to do it.” He took the paper from Emma’s hand, noting the way the mood had shifted. “Ach. We’ll worry about that another time. Today is a day to be happy. I should let Kyla and Audrey know. We’ll celebrate at Sunday supper.”
“It’s good to see him in better spirits. Uncle Ewan’s been in a sour temper since Brodie took the job as sheriff.” Blaine walked next to Emma on the way back to the barn, his arm brushing hers until she casually stepped away, creating some distance.
“Will Colin and Quinn spend the night on the range?” Emma hoped her comment sounded casual, as if the answer didn’t matter.
Blaine glanced at the darkening sky. “Nae. If I know the lads, they’ll be back before supper. With the wee bairn on the way, Colin won’t sleep apart from Sarah.”
Emma made quick work of removing Moonshine’s saddle before brushing her down and letting her out into the pasture behind the barn. “I’m going inside to see if I can help with supper.”
“Quinn said he’s having supper at Ewan’s house tonight, so make sure there’s plenty.” Caleb chuckled. “I’ve never seen a man eat so much in such a short time.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I’ll let Lorna know.”
Caleb waited until Emma couldn’t hear him before turning to Blaine. “Your ma invited me to supper tonight. Let her know I appreciate it, but I’ve other plans.”
“Riding over to the Evanston ranch to see Heather, are you?”
Caleb cocked a brow as he swung onto his horse. “I didn’t say anything about Heather.”
“Aye, y
ou didn’t. You know, the lass won’t like you checking on her.” Blaine brushed the dirt from his pants as he walked out of the barn.
Caleb flashed a bright smile. “Widow Evanston invited me over tonight to meet her niece visiting from back east. Fletcher and Bram already met her. They say she’s a real pretty thing.”
Blaine threw his head back and laughed. “You are determined to die young, aren’t you, lad?”
Caleb touched two fingers to the brim of his hat. “Can’t think of a better way to leave this earth than looking at a pretty lass.” He reined his horse around, still hearing Blaine’s laughter as he took the trail south.
Chapter Ten
“Do you mind passing me the potatoes, Emma?”
Quinn’s smooth, deep voice washed over her, the same as it had each time he came over for supper with Brodie’s family. Jinny sat to the left of her, the younger siblings, Kenzie, Clint, and Banner, taking their regular places to her right. Ewan’s wife, Lorna, sat across the table, Fletcher next to her, Quinn on his left. By all appearances, it seemed a normal evening meal. To Emma, it was anything but.
With a nod, Emma picked up the bowl, passing it around the table to Quinn. He’d arrived moments before Lorna announced supper was ready, apologizing for being late before washing up. Other than the request for vegetables, all his conversations had been with Fletcher, Jinny, or Ewan.
“Did you and Blaine enjoy yourselves today?”
Emma’s fork stilled in her hand. She’d never heard such an edge to Quinn’s voice. She slowly brought her gaze up to meet his, setting her fork down.
“Blaine, Caleb, and I found a few strays. I can’t say I enjoyed it, but it’s work that must be done.” Clasping her hands in her lap, she leaned forward. “I must say, Blaine never left my side, which I found quite comforting.” She found a small amount of satisfaction at the way Quinn’s cocky grin faded, his lips drawing into a thin line. “He’s a good rancher. I’m certain I’ll learn a lot from him.”
“That so?” Quinn stabbed a piece of meat with his fork harder than intended, stuffing it in his mouth, chewing slowly.
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