Cowboy Come Home

by Janette Kenny

  True, and there were many of them in operation back then. The question was which one would’ve been the closest to his Colorado ranch.

  That information would have to come from somebody who knew the Bartons well. Like the housekeeper who’d worked for them for as long as Daisy could remember.

  “I need to find Ramona,” she said, nearly shaking from desperation to get to the truth.

  “You got any idea where to start looking?”

  “Ramona brought Fernando to San Angelo because her sister lives here. Chances are good they are in the Mexican community.” It was just a matter of finding her.

  “You know their name?”

  She shook her head, feeling more anxious than before. More helpless. She couldn’t go around knocking on doors.

  “Maybe the local doctor has treated Fernando. He could direct me to the house.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  A good one at that, they found out when they called on the local doctor. “So it was your ranch where Fernando was attacked,” the doctor said, as he placed items in his black leather satchel.

  “Yes. It just sickens me to think how he was attacked,” she said.

  The doctor harrumphed. “I’ve seen worse.”

  She was sure the old doctor had, but this violence was all new to her, thanks to being sheltered from the brutal ways of men her whole life. Or at least the life she’d remembered as Jared Barton’s daughter. So much of what men could do to each other shocked her. She’d already done a terrible disservice to her cowhands by not firing Ned Durant sooner.

  “I’m very worried how Fernando’s doing,” she said, and Lordy, did she ever miss Ramona.

  “Still plagued with bouts of dizziness, but that’s to be expected with a brain bruise like he’s got.” The doctor turned his attention to Trey. “Reckon you’re eager to know when he can return to work.”

  She and Trey exchanged a look before she spoke. “I’m certainly not rushing him to do so.”

  “I know for a fact that these things take time,” Trey added.

  She was reminded again of his claim to have been laid up in El Paso these past six months. Reminded too of the other cowboy Ned had dragged to death. How close Trey had come to meeting the same fate.

  “That it will,” the doctor said. “He’s in no shape to suffer the stress of swinging a hammer. Can’t imagine he’d be able to tolerate the racket either with his head aching most of the time.”

  “That poor man. I need to visit with him for a while,” Daisy said.

  And she needed to speak with Ramona in private, for she was the only person Daisy knew who’d been there when she’d lost her memory the first time. She had to know Daisy’s past.

  She’d insist the woman fill in those blanks and answer the questions whirling like a Texas tornado in her head.

  “I’m headed out that way now,” the doctor said. “You’re welcome to follow.”

  “Thank you,” Daisy said.

  “I’ve got business to attend to first,” Trey said, clearly intending to invite himself along. “Give me directions, and we’ll be along directly.”

  The doctor proceeded to lay out a route, naming landmarks so they wouldn’t get lost. Not that Daisy feared Trey would. But she wasn’t about to stand around and twiddle her thumbs while he mailed a letter and tended to whatever other business he had to do.

  Without money to her name or credit in a town where she wasn’t known, she couldn’t very well do any shopping for things needed or wanted. That was surely a first for her. But then her life had taken a complete turnaround since her daddy’s death.

  What else was in store for her?

  “I’ll follow the doctor, and you can meet me there later,” she said.

  Trey’s frown said that idea didn’t set well with him. “I don’t like you going off alone.”

  “I’ll be fine with the doctor.”

  Trey doubted that Ned was watching them here, waiting for a chance to cause more trouble. And she probably didn’t want an audience when she had a heart-to-heart with Ramona.

  It was very likely that the housekeeper would still hold loyalty to Jared Barton. If that was the case, it would take a lot of coaxing to get Ramona to talk.

  The string of squat adobe houses looked no different than any other Mexican settlement Daisy had seen in Texas. There wasn’t a thing to set one apart from the other, right down to the children squealing and playing among the chickens pecking around in the yards.

  If she hadn’t followed the doctor, she likely would have ended up going from door to door. And she still might not have found the house Ramona’s sister owned.

  Her daddy had warned her long ago. Not all Mexicanos cotton to Gringos. They watch us and you’d be wise to do the same.

  Right now her nerves twitched, as if someone besides the children were watching her. An odd hush had fallen over the area as well, and Daisy was sure the doctor must hear her heart thundering.

  Of course these people would be curious why she was with the doctor, why she was here at this house in the first place. They were surely curious to see what reception she’d receive here.

  That answer came a heartbeat later when Ramona opened the door. Her gaze slid from the doctor to Daisy.

  The woman’s big brown eyes glittered with moisture and surprise. Daisy felt the same stab of tears as well, for Ramona was firmly entrenched in her heart.

  “Señorita Barton! How good of you to come to San Angelo to see us,” Ramona said, as the doctor pushed past them and went in search of his patient. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Now that she was enveloped in a warm hug. Now that she felt welcomed and loved by the woman who’d raised her after Daisy’s mother’s early death.

  It was an emotion she craved and one she’d been given lavishly by her daddy and Ramona. If only Trey had cared for more than rolling in the hay with her. If he’d just loved her.

  But he didn’t.

  A boy who’d grown up without tender affections now saw the world in hard angles. A cowboy who’d withdrawn from emotions was now holding his own close to the vest. A man she’d been drawn to from the start, whom she’d fallen in love with.

  Ramona led her to a kitchen in the back of the house that held the scents of chilies, grilled corn, and cinnamon. “Are you hungry?”

  She was starving for answers, but she knew she couldn’t just blurt out questions. “For your empanadas? You should know that you don’t have to ask.”

  Ramona’s face split into a wide smile, and she shooed Daisy toward a chair, just like she had done when she was a child. “Then sit while I make hot cocoa. I know what you like, niña.”

  As well she should, since she was the only mother figure Daisy could recall clearly. Her own mother’s face blurred often, as if she were becoming a stranger to her.

  Other than a vague memory of her mama dressing her up as if she were a doll, she couldn’t remember much else about her. Not so for Ramona.

  She’d been the one to wipe her tears and cradle her when she had a bad dream. She’d seen that her clothes were clean and her hungers were met.

  Like the hot cocoa and empanadas. Comfort foods. Treats that she associated with home. With someone who cared about her enough to put forth the effort to spoil her a bit instead of showing her off.

  Were there other older memories trapped in her mind as well? Memories that reached back before the fall that cloaked her mind in dark shadows that even she couldn’t see through?

  She rubbed her forehead, wondering if she’d ever have a clear recollection of her childhood. Her gaze flicked to the room the doctor had slipped into. She wondered if Fernando was plagued with the same ailment now after the crushing blow to his head.

  “How are Fernando and Manuel?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

  “Ai, ai, ai, there are days when Fernando is tormented by terrible pains in his head,” Ramona said, as she busied herself at the hearth. “Manuel left this morning for the Circle 46
.”

  How sad his path hadn’t crossed hers and Trey’s. “I’ve a feeling Fernando’s headaches are far worse than what I’ve suffered since the fall.”

  Falls, really, but she held off saying that for now. This was about Fernando, not her.

  Ramona slid the cocoa pot onto a heavy trivet and turned to Daisy, her eyes sad and banked with worry. “The pain in your head. Has it returned?”

  “A time or two when I’ve tried to force my mind to remember things.”

  “What is so important that you want to dredge up the past?”

  Daisy sat forward and captured the older woman’s gaze with her own. “Who am I?”

  Ramona’s face went white as paper. “You’ve forgotten that?”

  How to answer. “I know I’m Daisy, but I’m not sure that I am Jared Barton’s daughter.”

  There. She’d voiced her fear. And judging by the resigned look that passed over Ramona’s face, it was one she’d expected to eventually hear.

  Yet it was just as clear that loyalty ran deep in the older woman. “What is this? Of course you are Jared Barton’s daughter.”

  Daisy took a sip of the rich cocoa, but it failed to lull her as it had before. “I’ve remembered things that don’t fit in with being a Barton.”

  Ramona paled, and her throat worked nervously. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’ve remembered my brother,” she said. “Dade was his name. Dade Logan.”

  “I know nothing about him,” Ramona said, and Daisy believed her.

  “I’ve also remembered standing on a loading platform at the train station with the other orphans.”

  Ramona nodded and slumped a bit more in the chair. “Your memory has returned then?”

  “Not fully, but I recall enough to know that I’m not Jared Barton’s natural daughter.” She reached across the table and laid her hand atop Ramona’s. “Please. Tell me the truth.”

  A nervous sigh whispered from the older woman as she fidgeted with the plate of empanadas, putting the food between them like a temptation for Daisy to eat instead of talk. Or was it a barrier? A means of trying to keep at bay the inevitable.

  “Please,” Daisy said again.

  Ramona looked to the doorway, her face lined with worry, as if she was afraid that Jared Barton would catch her revealing his secret. Such loyalty should have been rewarded.

  “Señora Barton told me that she prayed and prayed for a child,” Ramona said at last, her voice low and solemn. “Then one day her prayers were answered, and you came into her life.”

  That was in keeping with what Hollis Feth had told her. Her mama had desperately wanted her. Wanted a child.

  Where there’s a will, there’s a way, her daddy said often.

  He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted through hard work and determination. He’d wanted a cattle empire and had gotten one. He’d wanted a chance at a second family after losing his first wife and son. But it didn’t look like he’d have a second child, not unless he took matters into his own hands.

  “I think that Daddy and Mother decided to take in a child,” Daisy said, sitting back to cradle her cup of cocoa, hoping the warmth of the crockery would thaw the deep cold that always stayed inside her. “Tell me the truth. Did they take me off an orphan train?”

  “I do not know, niña. Señor hired us when he bought the rancho in Texas. I had never seen you or your mother until Señor Barton brought you both to the JDB.”

  So Ramona couldn’t know if Daisy was an orphan. She’d taken over her care after they moved to the JDB. She would naturally have assumed that Daisy was the Bartons’ child by blood.

  Ramona had believed what she’d been told, that Daisy was their only child.

  But Daisy knew that wasn’t true.

  She closed her eyes and willed the shadows to recede from the past, but the fog hovered like a specter at the end of the loading dock. She shivered. Cold. Afraid.

  A big hand clamped over her arm and pulled her from the others. She remembered breaking free. Of running from the woman into the mist to hide. Of falling.

  The rest was a blur of faces and fleeting memories of being gripped with pain and terror. That surely matched another memory stuck in her mind, of riding with a man on a horse and being too terrified to cry.

  “Daddy told me I lost my memory after taking a bad fall. But was that before or after I came to be Daisy Barton?”

  Ramona took Daisy’s hands in both of hers and held them tight, like a loved one would do in the face of despair. “What does it matter? You had parents who loved and cared for you.”

  She smiled at that, for though Jared Barton had a reputation for being tough and gruff, Daisy had always known he had this softer side. He was a good daddy.

  But for all the love and comfort she had growing up on the JDB, she had had a void in her too. Of memory. Of sensing that she’d lost something and still mourned it deep inside her.

  A brother?

  Yes, if Trey could be believed. If what she felt in her heart was true. Dade Logan was her brother. Trey’s foster brother. Had their lives been destined to intertwine long ago in a Pennsylvania orphanage?

  She turned to Ramona. “Did I ever mention Dade Logan?”

  The older woman sat back, her expression clouding. “Si, when you were little. You asked where he’d gone but I couldn’t answer you.”

  “I doubt that even Daddy could have done that.”

  Ramona stiffened. “Ai, ai, ai! Señor would get angry when you asked about this boy, so I told you to never mention his name again.”

  Daisy had heeded Ramona’s advice, though Dade’s name had stuck in the far recesses of her mind to trouble her during those lonely hours deep in the night. She’d always wondered who the boy was. Why his name would pop into her head whenever she was scared.

  Her daddy had carefully kept her past from her for reasons of his own. She wasn’t much different than the remuda of wild mustangs he’d rounded up—not blooded but bearing the JDB brand anyway.

  “Daddy was afraid I’d remember my past,” she said, certain of that now. “He wanted me to believe that I was Daisy Barton.”

  “But you are. It doesn’t matter if you were born his daughter,” Ramona said. “He raised you as his own. He loved you, niña.”

  She knew that.

  The Bartons returned to West Texas with a daughter. Not long after that, her daddy was left to raise his child alone.

  Jared Barton had lost two families. He likely wasn’t about to tell Daisy the truth, for fear he’d lose her as well to her own kin. And Ramona was right. Her daddy was the only family she knew.

  But he was gone now.

  She had a brother. Dade.

  “It troubles me that I left you alone on the ranch,” Ramona said, her warm brown eyes swimming with regret. “But I could not leave Fernando, and my sister needs me now too.”

  “It’s all right. I’m managing just fine,” Daisy said, which was true. “Your place is here with your family.”

  Ramona smiled and bobbed her head. “Gracias.”

  Yes, deep in her heart Daisy longed to be with family too. She didn’t want to be alone.

  She had to find Dade. Surely Trey would know how to contact him. Maybe once she was reunited with kin, more of her memory would return.

  She just hoped she didn’t regret getting her memory back.

  Trey collected Daisy from Ramona’s sister’s home, staying just long enough to be polite. “We have enough daylight to make it home before dark if we leave now.”

  She didn’t argue with that. In fact she seemed more pensive than when she’d ridden into San Angelo with him.

  “Ramona shed any light on your past?” he asked when they were back on the road.

  “Not really. Daddy hired her as the housekeeper at the JDB, so she didn’t meet Mother or my nanny until we arrived at the ranch.” She frowned as if a thought struck her, then shook her head just as quickly, like she’d discarded whatever had come t
o mind. “Ramona said we’d taken the train from Colorado to San Angelo, then come by buggy to the ranch.”

  “You don’t remember any of that?”

  “I don’t know.” She heaved another sigh and stared off at the miles of land stretching as far as the eye could see. “Maybe you’re right. My past doesn’t make a lick of difference. But my future as a rancher sure does.”

  “Two spreads to run is a helluva big responsibility.”

  She nodded. “I guess that’s why Daddy pretty much put men at the Circle 46 to manage things and stayed at the JDB.”

  “It’s the larger of the two and was the one he built for you. Built it to last generations.”

  She smiled at that, a wistful smile that told him she was thinking of the JDB. Of home. He sure understood the longing, but where she had a place to return to, he didn’t.

  The ranch where Kirby Morris had raised him and that he had intended to leave to him, Reid, and Dade was no longer his. He had nothing now but a dream.

  And a chance to make a stake.

  “I’d like to buy the Circle 46,” he said, feeling a might giddy for voicing what he wanted most.

  She stared at him, saying nothing for the longest time. “I thought you were broke?”

  “I am cash poor, but when I get my herd fattened up, I can sell a good deal of them at auction. Bet I could get a good price for the horses too.”

  “You still won’t have enough money.”

  He smiled, amused by that bite of sarcasm in her voice. It was one of the things he liked about her. That though she looked like a prim, little lady, she was no shrinking violet.

  Shame Barton hadn’t taught her how to run a ranch.

  “The way I see it, you are going to be run ragged managing two ranches,” he began, careful to keep the excitement that made his heart pound from his voice. “The JDB is your home. It’s the larger of the two. If a few more wells were dug, you’d avoid this problem during dry years.”

  “You’ve had your eye on the Circle 46 all this time.”

  Since he first herded those horses onto the spread nearly a year ago. “It’s perfect for me. Small house with just enough outbuildings to hold all I’d need to run the place.”