To Casey's way of thinking, the man looked very much the way she had pictured him: he was small and wiry with thinning brown hair, a pair of glasses perched on his nose, and a studious expression on his face.
"Are you Mr. Murdock?" she asked.
"Yes, madam, I am." His smile was genuine. "What can I do for you, young lady?"
"Sir, I am Cassandra Hamilton. This is my brother, Sam, and our younger sister, jenny. You wrote us a letter about our uncle's death."
He looked surprised for a moment but quickly recovered and flashed her a grin. "I had the understanding that your father would be with you. Did he not come into town today?"
Sam glanced at jenny and lowered his voice. "Papa died before we reached Texas, Mr. Murdock."
He heard the pain in the boy's voice and saw the deep sadness in his eyes. "A tragedy. Please accept my sympathy. And please draw up chairs and be seated. I've been expecting you for some time."
It took him some moments of fumbling in his desk drawer before he came up with the correct papers. He glanced up at the three of them with a smile. "Your uncle was a good man. Since he had no family of his own, he kept in touch with your mother until her death. After that, he corresponded with you and your father so he would not lose touch with you. He often told me that he wanted you to come to Texas while he was alive, but, of course, that did not happen. He wanted you to get to know Texas, since this is where your mother was born and grew up. He told me about your losing your house; he wanted the Spanish Spur to become your home."
Casey folded her hands in her lap. "My mother had great affection for her brother. And I want to assure you that my brother and I intend to pay any debts he might have left behind-if his creditors will only be patient with us. We have no money to speak of at the moment."
Murdock looked amazed. "Debts? My dear young woman, your uncle owed no man. The Spanish Spur is clear of debt." He shifted the papers around and looked at the three of them in turn. "But let me read you the will."
Jenny became bored by the attorney's talk and squirmed off Sam's lap. She peeked under the desk but found nothing interesting there, so she moved across the room, where she pressed her nose against the window to look outside.
The attorney cleared his throat. "Your uncle's will includes Cassandra Jane Hamilton, Samuel Trace Hamilton, and Jennifer Sue Hamilton. There is a small bequest for another person, which I will speak to you about later. For now, I'll skip the preliminaries about Bob Reynolds being of sound mind and so on, and get right to the meat of the matter. Your uncle was a frugal man, and as I said, he left this world without owing anyone anything. He bequeathed the Spanish Spur and everything he owned to the three of you, free and clear, with the exception of one piece of property."
He pushed a sheet of paper toward Casey for her inspection. "These are your uncle's investments and bank statements showing the net worth of his estate. It isn't a fortune, but many folks have a lot less. There are six hundred head of prime cattle roaming the range, and at today's prices, that'll give you a substantial amount of money."
"There aren't nearly that many cattle now, Mr. Murdock," Sam told him.
The attorney glanced over his bifocals at the boy. "Are you sure?"
Sam nodded. "As far as we can tell, there's a little more than a hundred head."
"The foreman took off right after your uncle's death. I tried to keep someone out there to look after things, but no one would stay for long. The cattle probably strayed, or someone could have even rustled them. There's just no way to know for sure."
Casey was staring at the paper in front of her. She swallowed a lump in her throat as the column of figures danced before her eyes. Holding her breath, she handed the paper to Sam.
"Is that... Does that mean Uncle Bob has nineteen thousand dollars in the bank?" Sam asked, going pale. It sounded like a lot of money to him, since Casey had given Kate most of their money to buy the supplies they needed.
`That's right, young Samuel. As I said, it's not a great deal of money, but it'll get you started." He was gratified by the look of relief on the boy's face. Murdock had always prided himself on being an honest and fair man, and he respected that trait in others. The young people had come to him today prepared to make arrangements to pay off any debts their uncle might have incurred, and that said a lot about their character.
"I am stunned," Casey stated, wishing she had known their benefactor better. Her uncle Bob had once written them that he might come to Virginia to visit, but he never had.
Murdock flipped through other papers and tucked some away in a drawer. "Your uncle would often tell me incidents about your lives. He knew when jenny took her first step; he knew that you, Cassandra, were going to a ball with a handsome young cavalry officer. And, Samuel, he was proud that you made such good marks in school."
Casey suddenly wished she had known her uncle better. She had grieved when they had received Mr. Murdock's letter informing them that their uncle had died, but she had no face to put on her mother's brother. It amazed her that he had followed their lives so closely. "If only we had come while he was still alive," she said.
"Yes, well, that can't be helped now. Let me say that the three of you are the beneficiaries of his generosity, because the plum in all this is the Spanish Spur-nine thousand acres of prime ranch land. Of course, your uncle had expected that if you came to Texas your father would be with you."
"We wish he were," Sam said.
Murdock frowned as if struggling for words. "If Bob Reynolds were here today, he might well advise you to sell the Spanish Spur." He looked into Casey's eyes. "If you haven't met Cyrus Slaughter, you will. He's had his eye on the property for many years. Your uncle was the one man who didn't bow down to Slaughter. But I have to warn you that Cyrus is a very dangerous adversary."
Casey had to agree with him on that. "I have seen that for myself."
"My sister's already met him," Sam remarked. "He came to see us and said he wanted to buy the ranch. Then he made some threats to my sister. I won't let him come on our land again, and I won't let him hurt my family."
Murdock could have pointed out to the boy that he'd be no match for Slaughter, but the lad wanted to protect his sisters, and the attorney found that admirable. "Your uncle was afraid Cyrus might try to push you into selling the ranch. Now, with the three of you having no one to look after you, I'd advise you to consider any reasonable offer."
"Do you think that is really what our uncle Bob would have wanted us to do?" Casey asked pointedly .
The attorney glanced down at the will without seeing it. "No. Bob Reynolds was a fighter. He withstood Slaughter for many years, but he had twenty cowhands working for him, and he was a man who could stand toe-to-toe with Slaughter. I've heard that Slaughter spread the word around that anyone who agrees to work for you, or tries to help you in any way, will be considered his enemy. No one around here will be willing to go against him. I don't know how you'll make it without good hands to work the place and to help guard against Slaughter and his men."
Casey looked at her brother. "The way I see it- and I think my brother feels the same way-our uncle entrusted the Spanish Spur to us, and I say we keep it. What do you say, Sam?"
"Mr. Murdock, my sister's right. We are not going to sell to Slaughter or anyone else."
The attorney looked worried. "It is my place to warn you that you're facing terrible odds."
Sam didn't hesitate before he remarked, "We are prepared to do whatever we must, Mr. Murdock."
In that moment, Murdock wished Reynolds could have lived to meet his kin, because he would have been proud of them, but he would also have worried about what Slaughter would do to them. "Then that's the way it'll be. If you don't have any objections, your uncle wanted me to guide you financially."
"Yes, please," Casey said. "Our uncle trusted you, and so do we."
"I'll introduce you around town today. I'll take you first to Finnegan's General Store so you can set up credit. Since you are the oldest,
Cassandra, I'll make arrangements for you to have access to the bank account. I'm sure there are many things you need." He cleared his throat. "I have just one other matter concerning the will. Your uncle has asked that you allow Kathryn Eldridge to live out her days in comfort in the house he had built for her."
Casey and Sam smiled at each other. "I don't know what we would have done without Kate. I'm glad my uncle left her the house," Casey said. "And I want to tell you," she added, "just so you won't worry so much about us, Mr. Murdock, that we've hired a man to help us. And he isn't the only help we have. There will be two more arriving any day now."
Murdock was suddenly suspicious. He wouldn't put it past Slaughter to plant some of his own cowhands on the Spanish Spur so he could keep an eye on the Hamiltons. "Do you know anything about the man you hired? Maybe I need to ride out to the ranch and meet him for myself."
"Kate says we should trust him, although he didn't give us his last name. He goes by the name Gabe. Do you know him?" She looked into his clear brown eyes expectantly.
Murdock frowned and rubbed his chin. "This Gabe you speak of wouldn't tell you his last name?"
"No, sir," Sam said. "I don't think he has one."
"Then tell me this-the men he has coming to help you... would they, by chance, be Indians?"
Sam shifted in his seat so he could keep an eye on jenny. "Yes, sir, they are."
"Did he happen to mention whether the Indians were Comanche?"
"Yes, they are," Casey said. "Is it usual in Texas to hire Indians to help out on a ranch?"
Murdock glanced down at his desk as he digested the information. "No, not usual at all. There's only one man I know of who could entice an Indian to work for white folk. If it's who I think it is, I wonder what he's doing back here? I haven't seen him since he left several years ago."
Casey leaned forward and folded her hands on his desk. "Then you know him?"
"I think so. I haven't seen him in years." He looked thoughtful and then met her gaze. If Gabe wanted to keep silent about his past, then Murdock would honor his wishes until he did some checking around. "He was only a young man the last time I saw him. He'd be full-grown now."
"And the Indians are harmless?"
Murdock checked his pocket watch. "They will be to you. What better watchdogs could you have than the Comanche? They can be fearsome warriors if the need arises. Now," he said, standing, "I have just enough time to introduce you around before my next appointment arrives."
Casey took jenny's hand, and they walked out into the sunshine. There had been a lot of sadness in their lives lately, but because of their uncle Bob's generous nature, they would get by just fine. Things might be hard for a while, but they were Hamiltons, and they would come through this as they had so many other difficulties in their lives.
At least they had a home that was free of debt, and to Casey's way of thinking, they had a lot of money.
Sam touched her shoulder; he knew she was still worried about Cyrus Slaughter, especially since Mr. Murdock had warned them against him. "It's better than we expected, Casey."
"Yes," she said, her mind on Gabe. "Much better."
Gabe dismounted with a sick feeling in his gut because he already knew what he would find. He had followed the circling buzzards to the place where he and Sam had driven fifty head of cattle only yesterday. When he dismounted, he swore under his breath. They were all dead but one-a newborn calf stumbled about, trying to rise on wobbly knees.
"Dammit," he said, opening the gate and stepping inside. It had been a mistake to pen the cattle so far from the house, but this was the only pen large enough to hold them until they could be branded.
He looked at the gruesome sight and smelled the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh.
Taking a cleansing breath, he removed the bandanna from his neck and tied it so it would cover his nose. He had to get close enough to the cattle so he could determine what had killed them.
Opening the gate, he moved to the closest carcass and knelt down beside it. The belly was bloated, and there was foam around the mouth. He examined another animal and found it had died with the same symptoms.
Standing up, Gabe felt rage coil inside him at the senseless destruction. Some person with a twisted mind had ordered this carnage. The condition of the carcasses told its own tale-the cattle had probably been poisoned, and he had to find out how.
Removing his bandanna and tying it back around his neck, he walked to the drinking trough and scooped water into his cupped hand. It certainly smelled pure enough-he brought it to his mouth and touched his tongue to it and found that there was no bitter taste. If these cattle had been poisoned, it certainly hadn't been from the water.
Puzzled, he examined another body. The cows had most certainly not died of natural causes; their deaths had been deliberate. His jaw tightened when his searching gaze fell on a strange- looking plant near the fence. He stooped to pick it up and recognized what it was at once.
Careless weed!
The plant was a rancher's worst nightmare. The strange thing about the weed was that if it was eaten green, it was harmless; but eaten dry, it released a noxious poison. Careless weed did not grow in this part of Texas, so someone had brought it there.
He glanced around and saw several other clumps of the dried weed. Whoever had done this knew exactly what he was doing. And Gabe knew without a doubt who that someone was. Cyrus would not have dirtied his hands with the poisoning, but the orders would have come from him all the same. The deed had probably been carried out by the foreman of the Casa Mesa ranch, Ira Teague; that coldhearted bastard would follow Cyrus's orders without question.
Gabe watched a buzzard tear at the flesh of one of the animals-the bird would probably die from eating the poisoned flesh, but no one mourned the death of a scavenger. In his own way Cyrus was a scavenger who existed on other people's misery.
Gabe knew just how Cyrus would go about getting rid of his adversaries-he would start small, pick at them and feed on their wretchedness- then he would apply more pressure and torment them. The more his enemy suffered, the more pressure Cyrus would apply, and the more pleasure he would derive from it. Cyrus was the only person Gabe knew who possessed no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
"So it's begun," he said, picking up the newborn calf and mounting his horse.
Cyrus had struck sooner than he had expected.
It was time for Gabe to pay him a visit at Casa Mesa.
Kate was instructing the store's handyman how to load supplies in the wagon when Casey and Jenny approached. "Where's Sam?" she asked, fitting a crate of apples under the spring seat.
"He's talking to the blacksmith about shoeing one of the mares. Jenny is hungry, so I think I'd better find her something to eat."
Kate hopped down from the wagon and nodded at the man. "Keep an eye on our supplies, and when a young man named Sam comes along asking for us, direct him to Betsy's Tearoom."
The tearoom turned out to be something of a surprise to Casey. She hadn't seen the building when they came into town because it was located behind the bank. It was white with green shutters, and had window boxes with some kind of plant with purple flowers.
Casey found the inside to be just as cheery as the outside. There were six tables with red-andwhite gingham tablecloths, with fresh flowers in the center of each.
The woman who greeted them could have come straight from the pages of one of jenny's fairytale books. She was blond and petite with blue eyes and dimples. She wore a blue-checked gown and a crisp, ruffled apron.
When she spoke, her voice was soft. "Kate, what a pleasure to see you again. And who are your friends?" She smiled at Casey. "You must be new in this part of Texas."
Jenny slid her hand out of Casey's and climbed up on a chair, dipping her head so she could smell the flowers.
"This here's the Hamiltons," Kate said. "The little one there is jenny, and this is Casey. They're the new owners of the Spanish Spur. Casey, this here's Betsy Turner."
"It's just delightful to meet you, Mrs. Hamilton. Your daughter looks just like you."
Jenny, never one to let an opportunity pass without having her say, remarked, "I don't have a mama anymore-Casey is my sister, and she's much prettier than you are."
Casey glared at her sister. "That's enough, Jenny. Apologize at once."
"But, Casey," the child reasoned, "you always said I was to tell the truth."
Betsy looked shocked at jenny's statement, while Kate turned away to hide her smile.
"You must forgive my sister," Casey said hurriedly, giving jenny a look that warned the child she was going to be in trouble later on. "She will say what she wants, and there doesn't seem to be much I can do about it."
"Perhaps," Betsy suggested, her voice no longer soft, "you might spank her when she misbehaves. Children should never be allowed to speak their mind so freely."
Kate stopped Casey from answering by picking Jenny up in her arms. "No one is going to spank this adorable little angel-not as long as of Kate's 'round."
Casey flashed Kate a grateful smile as she watched Sam cross the street toward them. Jenny sometimes needed a stem hand, but Casey had never hit her; she cringed at the very thought. But Jenny would have to be punished for her rudeness, and that punishment would come in the form of being denied a slice of the custard pie Casey intended to bake the next day. Custard pie was jenny's favorite dessert.
Sam joined them at the table. After they had ordered, he asked Casey, "Have you told her the good news?"
Casey shook her head and nodded at Betsy, who was slicing bread for their sandwiches; it was apparent that she was listening to their conversation. "We'll talk about it on the way home," she told him.
Betsy set a plate of assorted sandwiches on the table, but her attention was on Kate. "I heard a rumor that Gabe was back in the area. Have you seen him, Kate? Can it be true?"
"I'm sure if Gabe had come back, you'd have seen him," Kate said. Her gaze met Casey's, and she gave a slight shake of her head.
Jenny frowned. "He is-"
Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) Page 8
