“Just like that? Did he think you or Beth were armed?” Clay shuddered when he thought about his little girl perched in those rafters under the rifle of a man as dangerous as Shafter. He was a known gunman and as tough as a hobnail boot.
Sophie set a cup of coffee in front of Clay, then got more cups out for the other men who had crowded into her kitchen. They were leaning against walls and sitting on the floor. All four girls had gone into one bedroom, just to make space in the cabin for everyone.
A very embarrassed Rio was leaning in the open doorway. Buff and Whitey had been knocked cold in the bunkhouse by whatever had been added to their coffee. Only the fact that they had eaten with Sophie and mostly drank the coffee she made had saved their lives. They were still too ashamed of themselves to talk. Of course, when had either one of them ever talked anyway?
Andy had the same rough bandage on his head Sophie had put on in the cave. He wouldn’t let Sophie doctor him. He seemed to think he deserved to get an infection and die for letting himself be drugged and then knocked senseless.
The wounded outlaws had been hauled away. It had been a real chore to get the two out of the trees. Sophie had answered the ranger’s questions with all the men listening. Now, except for the questions Clay couldn’t seem to quit asking, none of them had much to say to her at all.
In other words, everything was back to normal.
Sophie had run out of coffee cups, and Eustace had fetched all there were in the bunkhouse. And except for the silence and general air of humiliation amongst the men, it had become a party.
“What do you men want for supper?” Sophie asked into the silence.
“I can’t believe you put spikes in the bottom of that pit.” Clay nursed his coffee and shook his head. “That was a plumb mean thing to do.”
“Sorry.” Sophie served the third pot of coffee she’d made in the last hour.
“No, you’re not. You’re just trying to buck me up.”
“I taught her about those traps, mostly,” Adam put in. “But she came up with a few tricks of her own.”
“Living in a thicket gives a woman time to use her imagination.”
Adam nodded.
“And how many more of these traps are there?” Clay crossed his arms and scowled. “Mightn’t they be dangerous?”
Sophie noticed Clay conveniently forgot that she had tried to show him the traps on a couple of occasions. He’d smiled at her “little surprises” and put her off.
“I made them so you had to trip them. No one can stumble into one. Why, you and the men have been walking over the pit under the side door of the barn all week.”
Clay sat up straight and glared at her.
Sophie patted Clay on the chest as she passed him with the coffee-pot. “I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t, but she hoped Clay appreciated that she tried to sound sincere.
The rangers came riding into the yard. They and the deputies had taken all eight of Mason’s men into town. Sheriff Everett’s jailhouse was fairly bulging at the seams. Most of the men were wanted for holdups and murders all across the West. There would be enough reward money to add another valley to the ranch if they had a mind to.
Ranger Jackson strode into the house. “I want you to tell me again just what Harley Shafter did when you went into the barn.”
Sophie crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’ve told you ten times already!”
Jackson said, “No, you’ve told me twice.”
“You’ve told me ten times,” Clay said. “But the ranger’s been gone for eight of them.”
Sophie sighed and repeated her story. Jackson listened, absorbing every word of it. Finally he said, “Shafter has been talking. He’s confessed to everything and spared himself none of the guilt. Every member of that gang will be found guilty because of what he’s said. And we found a lot of money on Mason. We’ll be able to return money to the heirs of most of the men who have been killed.”
“Why’s he telling everything?” Clay asked. “Usually a gunman like that is mighty closed-mouthed.”
“He said he heard God talking to him in that barn. He said he was ready to turn on Mason and protect the posse when it came into the yard.”
“It don’t sound to me like he’s taking responsibility for much if he’s trying to say he was on our side,” Eustace said with contempt.
“No, it’s not like that. He’s not trying to get out of any charges. In fact, he’s saying he deserves a noose, and he’ll take it. He just smiles when we try and break his story. Says he knows he deserves God’s wrath, but he’s made his peace and he’s ready.”
“Leave room for God’s wrath.” Adam looked across the room at Luther. “Just like you said.”
Luther nodded.
“I believe him.” Sophie, done with her inquisition for now, began slicing up a hunk of venison she’d put on the baking rack. “The look on his face when he surrendered was almost. . .” Sophie shrugged. “I know it sounds strange, but it was the impression I got at the time. It was almost. . .holy.”
Sophie filled her fourth pot of water to make more coffee. Suddenly her knees wobbled a little, and she had to grab for the edge of the water barrel to steady herself.
Clay was beside her in a split second, lifting her off her feet. “No more questions. Sophie needs to rest.”
Adam chuckled. “She’s as sturdy as a Texas cottonwood, Clay, but if you want to try and slow her down, I wish you luck.”
One by one the men left the cabin. Luther said as he went out, “Reckon me and Buff ’ll hang around Texas for a spell. It’s too far to ride iffen she calls me again.”
Buff grunted. As he shuffled out of the room, he said, “Sorry I failed ya, Miz McClellen.”
“That’s okay.” Sophie blushed so prettily, Clay couldn’t believe she was the same little wildcat who’d captured a gang of cutthroats.
Buff shook his head.
“Me, too, ma’am.” Whitey stared at the floor as if afraid it might disappear under his feet. Andy and Rio apologized, too, on their way out. They’d each done it a dozen times apiece already.
Clay smiled as he watched the dejected group go. They were Texans. They’d bounce back.
The last one to leave was Adam. He came up to Sophie, undeterred by the stern look of get out on Clay’s face. “Mason kept saying, when they were yanking that wooden stake out of his leg, that he’d get even with you, Sophie, if it took him the rest of his life.”
“His life may not be that long.” Clay tightened his grip on his wife.
“It sounded like he wanted revenge for something. But I never did anything to him.” Sophie’s brow wrinkled in confusion.
“It got me to thinking about the revenge I’ve been hungerin’ for ever since my partners died. In the end, I stood by and let the law take its own course.”
Clay snorted. “You went charging into Sawyer Canyon alone. I don’t call that letting the law take its course.”
“I know,” Adam said with a sheepish shrug. “I had a real bad moment there when lettin’ Mason hide out from us was more than I could bear. I admit that.”
With the men gone except for Adam, the girls came out of the bedroom and sat at the table. Clay watched his family, all pretty and sweet smelling. They were soft as baby calves and tough as full-grown longhorns. He loved them.
“It’s a good thing you did,” Sophie said. “It brought you back to the ranch.”
“Yeah, none of these outlaws would have gotten out of here alive if we’d left them to my girls for much longer,” Clay said dryly.
Sophie and the girls grinned. Clay hugged his armful of a wife then set her on a chair at the table.
“Anyway, I realized that the difference between my need for revenge and Mason’s is the difference between God and Satan. It’s as simple as that. Mason insisted on delivering his wrath on those he was angry with, and in the end he was just a pure tool of the devil. No matter how angry I got, I could never have crossed that line and committed cold-blooded murder i
n an act of revenge. God has made me strong enough not to do that.”
“He’s made us all strong enough, Adam.” Sophie reached her hand across the table to pat Adam’s rugged hand. “In the end we all did the right thing.”
Beth crossed her arms and tapped her toe rapidly on the wooden floor. “I think Sally and Mandy enjoyed taking those men prisoner a little too much.”
“I did not! I purely hated having to catch those bad men.” Sally grabbed Beth’s long braid and gave it a hefty yank.
Beth screamed and backed up, pulling her hair all the more. She slammed into Mandy.
Mandy pushed her hard. “Be careful! And we did not enjoy ourselves! Not hardly none at all!”
Sally gave Beth’s hair another tug, and Beth started screaming at the top of her lungs. Laura began crying in the midst of the chaos.
Sally shrieked. “And the next time we’re attacked, you have to babysit. It’s your turn.”
“We don’t take turn on attacks. Ma says—” Beth jerked her hair free, fell backward, and staggered into Clay, who threw his arms wide to keep from falling over and smacked Adam across the face.
Adam ran.
Sally and Mandy attacked Beth as a team.
Clay roared, “You girls settle down!”
The girls completely ignored his yelling, so he yelled louder. Sophie went to his side. “Aren’t you pleased?”
Clay decided his wife had lost her mind.
“Can’t you see the girls have decided you won’t quit loving them just because you’re mad?”
Clay hollered over the tumult, “And that’s a good thing?”
“Sure it is.” Sophie scooped Laura up as she toddled past, shrieking. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She thrust Laura into his arms. “I’m going to lie down and rest.”
Clay didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She retreated to her bedroom and closed the door as calmly as if the screaming and yelling were a lullaby to her.
Clay faced his raging daughters and had a bright idea. He charged.
The screams turned to giggles as he was buried under petticoats, while his pretty wife obeyed him in the next room. Life didn’t get any better.
E P I L O G U E
Clifton Lazarus McClellen was born early on a bitter winter morning. All the girls slept through it, and Clay probably would have, too. Sophie was determined not to make the doctor ride clear and away out to the ranch in the cold for such a simple thing as bringing a baby.
Except there came a time during her laboring that Sophie quit trying to be brave and quiet and decided all men should die. And since Clay was handy, she might as well start with him. She was too busy to actually do him any damage before he could get out of her reach, though.
Clay panicked as she knew he would, what with him being a man and all. He started to get dressed to go for the doctor. Sophie was in the midst of a tearful appeal to not kill himself going out in the dangerous weather—ironic when a moment ago she’d really wanted him dead— when Cliff made his appearance.
His twin brother, Clayton Jarrod, was born five minutes later, while Clay was trying to wrap Clifton in a blanket Sophie had ready and, at the same time, frantically ordering Sophie to stop being in pain now, since the baby was already here.
When the whirlwind had passed and another blanket had been found, Clay finally calmed down enough to say with immense satisfaction, “We really narrowed the gap between girls and boys in this family.”
“I thought you said you wanted another girl,” Sophie challenged him, still not very happy with the man who had caused her a very uncomfortable night.
“I lied,” Clay announced with an unrepentant smile. “I wanted a son like the very dickens. I didn’t know how much until this very second.”
Sophie looked at the arms full of babies Clay held and smiled. “I didn’t know how much I wanted a boy either.”
“If you keep having them at this rate, we’ll be tied by next Christmas.”
Back to wanting to kill him, Sophie said, “Just for that, you’re getting up in the night to change their diapers.”
“What’s a diaper?”
Sophie slumped back on the bed and started to cry. Clay sat down beside her. “Sophie, what about rule number one?”
Both boys chose that moment to start howling their heads off.
They wriggled and cried, and Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off of them—until she noticed that Clay’s expression had turned from insufferable pride to pure unadulterated horror.
“I didn’t think boys would cry!”
Sophie forgot all about breaking rule number one because she wanted to laugh. “I’m going to enjoy watching you learn to be a pa to infants.”
Clay looked up from the babies and leaned over to kiss her soundly on the lips. “I’ll be great at it, just like I’ve learned to be a great pa to the girls.”
Sophie laid her hand on Clay’s cheek. “We’ve been through so much together this last year, Clay. I’ve learned as much as you have.”
Clay nodded and looked back at his sons. “We’re going to teach the boys to be good men. To work hard. To respect a woman’s strength.”
Sophie turned the edge of the blanket back on the baby closest to her. “You’ve never gotten over me protecting the ranch all by myself.”
“Why should I get over it? I learned what a special woman I married. And I learned to trust God in everything.”
“Except birthing these babies,” Sophie teased him. “You wanted the doctor for them.”
Clay ran his rough finger over one tiny fist, looking first from one son then to the other.
Sophie wanted to start crying again from the sweetness of it. She couldn’t hold back what was in her heart. “I love you, Clay.” She knew she shouldn’t say it. Clay wasn’t a man who wanted to talk about such nonsense.
He said very calmly, “I love you, too, Sophie.”
Sophie straightened away from him. “Since when?”
Clay looked away from the babies. “Well, since always, I reckon.”
“But you’ve never said such a thing. Why didn’t you tell me?” Sophie took one of the babies from him to punish him for being such an insensitive clout.
Clay stroked the soft cheek of the baby he had left, not appearing punished at all. She nudged him sharply with her elbow. “Well?”
His eyes never moved. “Well, what?”
“Why haven’t you ever told me you love me?”
“Of course I love you.” Clay shook his head, still staring. “How could I not love someone as sweet and pretty as you? It’d only be news if I didn’t love you, I’d think.”
Sophie tried to remind herself of the lessons they’d learned about revenge, and the wildly fluctuating moods she was prone to after a baby was born. And she still almost throttled him. He was saved by the babies between them.
Sophie remembered how much he’d learned to talk in the last year and how completely he’d been surrounded by men all his life, and she decided to let him live. “It gives me a nice feeling inside to hear it said now and again.”
As if he didn’t know the danger he’d been in, Clay said, “Okay. How often?”
Sophie sighed deeply then decided this might be her only chance. “At least once a day is nice—at bedtime. And then throw it in out of the blue once in a while besides.”
Clay nodded, rocking the baby in his arms to quiet it. Sophie thought he was getting very good at being a pa already.
He said, “Once a day and then some. That’ll be fine.”
Sophie shook her head. “You’re hopeless.”
He didn’t appear to hear what she said. He was lucky she was a Christian woman—a Christian woman with her hands full. They sat together and watched their babies until the sun came up.
Then the girls came in and broke rule number one all over again.
A B O U T T H E A U T H O R
Mary Connealy is an author, journalist, and teacher. She is a graduate of Wayne State College with a degr
ee in Mass Communication. She finds great joy in writing. Her hope is that her work is worthy of that God-given gift of joy.
She lives on a Nebraska farm with her husband, Ivan and has four mostly grown daughters, Joslyn, Wendy, Shelly (and her husband Aaron), and Katy.
If you hunt hard enough, you can find Mary on the Internet like a middle-aged, female “Where’s Waldo” at www.myspace.com/petticoatranch or www.maryconnealy.com. Mary is a GED Instructor by day and an author by night. And to keep it straight in her head whether she’s teaching or writing, she likes to wear a little crown and a Wonder Woman cape while she types.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title
Copyright
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty - One
Twenty - Two
Twenty - Three
Epilogue
About the Author
Petticoat Ranch Page 28
