Before the Larkspur Blooms

by Caroline Fyffe

  They were walking toward the large barn door and Chase stopped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Exactly what I said. Jake’s been chewing on a bitter pill of late. Just think he has some hard knocks ahead of him before he gets it out of his system.”

  “All this from you, two years younger and still wet behind the ears,” Chase teased. Gabe knew how valuable he was to this ranch. They couldn’t have come so far so fast without him.

  “I don’t have to be old to have good sense.”

  Chase shrugged. “Guess not. Go on and say what you have to say about Jake and don’t feel guilty. We all love him like family.”

  The two moseyed out to the hitching rails, and Chase leaned back against one. Gabe needed a little time before spilling the beans, he thought, as he looked around the tidied yard. Everything in its place, ready for the next day of work.

  “It’s just that I hate to see him in any kind of trouble,” Gabe finally said.

  Chase rolled on his elbow and faced Gabe. “Now, you’re getting me worried. Tell me what’s on your mind. Does it have anything to do with Hannah Hoskins?”

  “No. I think Jake gave that up a few weeks ago. It’s something else. Something I heard through the grapevine.”

  Thank goodness for that. After the display Thom and Hannah had made at the picnic, Jake didn’t stand a field mouse’s chance in a snake pit. “I’m listening.”

  Gabe scuffed his boot in the dirt. “A coupla weeks ago Jake got fleeced in a game of poker at the saloon. Seems he lost a bunch of money.”

  “You know what they say—a winning poker hand is like a cowboy’s legs, few and far between.” He chuckled at his own joke. When Gabe didn’t respond, he said, “I didn’t know Jake was interested in gambling.”

  “As far as I know, he’s not. The way it’s told, he came into the Bright Nugget and Blake, who already had a snootful, goaded him into drinking. One thing led to another and they both joined a game in progress.”

  “Well, that’s too bad,” Chase added, looking up at the overcast sky. It was quiet. Dark. “That’s a hard lesson, but I hope he learned it well. He has his eye on a nice patch of property I’ve said I’d sell to him at a good price when the time is right.”

  “That’s not the worst of it.”

  What could be worse than that? Chase thought. Both boys worked hard for their pay. Didn’t want anything handed to them. “Give me the rest.”

  “Seems he was gambling with Rome Littleton.”

  Rome.

  “Seems there was a huge pot, and when it came down to Jake and some other fellow Rome lent him money to stay in the game. He not only lost his pay, but now owes Littleton a large chunk, too.”

  Chase lunged toward the corral.

  “Where you going?” Gabe called, jogging to catch up.

  “See if Jake’s horse is here. Maybe we’re worrying for nothin’.” He didn’t think so. A bad sentiment had punched him in the belly when Gabe mentioned Rome’s name. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He prayed Jake hadn’t gotten mixed up with something that could kill him.

  Hand over hand, Chase scaled the corral fence and moved through the large herd of ranch horses. Some snorted and trotted away. Others slept on in the cool evening air, gentle and dead broke. A shotgun could go off and they’d not care. “I don’t see his gelding anywhere.”

  Gabe stared at him through the poles. “What’s wrong?” His voice was tight.

  “Not sure.” Albert didn’t want him showing their hand about Rome, but to heck with that—Gabe was a trusted part of this family. “Actually, yes, I do know,” he said, climbing back over the fence. “We believe Rome is part of the rustlers we’ve been chasing and keep coming up short. I don’t want him to sucker Jake into anything.”

  Gabe straightened and started for the barn, his face grim. “I’ll get the horses saddled.”

  Hannah set Markus on the floor. “Run and put that frog back in the creek, son,” she said softly, looking at her mother standing in the middle of the room. Roberta’s mouth was a hard, straight line, and indignant outrage seeped from her every pore. Her hands gripped her hips, and she leaned toward the door as if she wanted to run after Dwight and give him a good whipping. “Do it and come directly back.”

  “Yes’m.” Markus took off, none the worse for wear. Thom, and what might have transpired between the two men, popped into her head, and she hurried over to the hall tree.

  Roberta’s hands dropped to her sides. “Where you going?”

  Hannah flipped the cape over her shoulders. “To see if Thom’s all right. He’s the only one I can think of that Dwight would want to fight.”

  “The Red Rooster is all the way on the other side of town, Hannah. It’s not safe anymore for you to go out at night alone. I’m sure Thom Donovan is fine. It was boxing that got him into trouble all that time ago, remember? He can take care of himself—especially against someone like Dwight Hoskins.”

  She came over, took Hannah by the shoulders, and pushed her toward the sofa in the middle of the parlor. “Sit down. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” Her eyes were soft. It was something Hannah hadn’t seen for a very long time.

  The back door slammed, and Markus was back. “I’m hungry.”

  “I know you are, honey. I’ll make you some roast beef with gravy right now.”

  “She’ll do it in one moment, Markus,” Roberta said, holding Hannah by her side. “And while she does, I’ll heat water so you can have a bath. You need one, young man. First, though, your mother and I are going to sit here for ten minutes—undisturbed—and talk. Can you wait for me in your room, please?”

  His eyes went wide as if his ma was in big trouble, and he started up the stairs.

  “Mother—”

  “I’m only asking for ten minutes, Hannah. If Markus can give me that, so can you.”

  Hannah watched Markus scamper up the stairs. He glanced back once, catching her eye before disappearing around the corner. She prepared herself for the tongue-lashing she knew was coming. Thom Donovan this and Thom Donovan that. She didn’t think she had the energy to hear everything her mother would throw her way.

  Roberta delicately cleared her throat. “Hannah,” her mother began in a voice so soft she didn’t recognize it. “I know this will come as a shock to you, but I’ve been known to be wrong a time or two in my life. Now, I don’t like to concede that, but it’s true. I was very wrong about Dwight Hoskins.”

  “Mother—”

  “I should never have thrown him at you all these years.” She sat tall, dignified. She kept her gaze on Hannah’s face. “Encouraged him. Helped him get closer to you. I’m sorry.”

  Her mother’s words were like a balm, smoothing over her ragged nerves and warming her heart. Never in her life would she have expected her mother to concede to anything, let alone Dwight. “Mother, we all make mistakes. I make them every day. Just—”

  Roberta patted her hands, shushing her. “Please, Hannah, let me finish. This is hard enough without you interrupting and contradicting my every other word. I overheard you tell Dwight that Thom Donovan has rebuffed your every advance. Is that true?”

  Embarrassed, Hannah nodded. Her face warmed under her mother’s observant gaze.

  “Why do you think that is?”

  Hannah tried to stand, but her mother kept her in her seat. “Mother, I really don’t want to talk about Thom with you. I’m sorry, but considering everything that has happened since he’s come home, it just doesn’t feel right. Besides, I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of him, let alone talk about him courting me.” It was as if a hot iron had been placed on each cheek. How embarrassing. Her mother needn’t keep running Thom off. He wasn’t interested in her at all.

  “Answer me, Hannah. Do you think it’s because of all the things I’ve said?”

  Hannah shook her head. A jumble of emotions clogged her throat.

  “Hannah?”

  “No. When Thom sets his mind to s
omething, nothing stops him. There’s more to it than you. As hard as it is for me to accept, he doesn’t feel the same about me as I do about him. It’s as simple as that. I love Thom. I always have. I always will.” She gazed at her mother through a watery shield. “But why do you ask? Now, it’s you I can’t figure out.”

  It looked like her mother had just bitten into a sour lemon. “As much as I hate to say it, or admit it, I was wrong about Thom. Getting to know him as an adult, I’ve actually come to like him. He’s good with Markus. Seems Markus has taken to him, too.” She inhaled, holding the deep breath a moment before continuing. “But most of all, I don’t want you to end up all by yourself.”

  Hannah almost chuckled. Her mother—the one she knew—was back. If Hannah weren’t so flabbergasted by the words coming out of her mother’s mouth, she would have. “I don’t care about what others think about me. Or Thom. I just want to make a good life for Markus, and I hope someday I’ll be able to have more children. A whole passel. But that’s never going to happen because Thom’s made it perfectly clear how he feels about me.”

  Roberta harrumphed, but there was a twinkle in her eye. “No man in his correct mind would pass up a catch like you, dear. You’re not only lovely, but incredibly smart, with a twenty-four-carat-gold heart. That thickheaded Irishman rebuff you? We’ll just see about that!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Chase reined up in front of the Bright Nugget Saloon, found a spot at the crowded hitching rail, and hurried inside. The place was packed. Kendall must be making a fortune with a Friday night turnout like this. Piano music filled the room amid laughter and shouts. Philomena and Daisy worked the room.

  “Evenin’, sugar,” Philomena purred, stepping over. She ran her hand up his arm as her perfume tickled his nose.

  Chase scanned the faces looking for Jake, a bad feeling in his gut. His horse wasn’t outside.

  “I’m looking for Jake.”

  Her eyebrow peaked sharply. “He in trouble?”

  “Not with me.”

  She tipped her head. “He was in, but that was earlier in the day.”

  “Did he say anything about where he was going tonight?” Chase wouldn’t sleep a wink if he added Jake to his worries. The kid had a good heart and a good head on his shoulders, if he’d get past feeling inferior to everyone. And it didn’t hurt that he’d taken to ranching as if he’d been born to it. Chase would be sore put to find someone to fill his shoes. He gave himself a mental shake. Jake wasn’t going anywhere. Not if he had anything to say about it. Just because he’d lost some money in poker and was indebted to Rome didn’t mean anything.

  Chase wondered why Gabe and Albert had not shown up yet. Before coming in, he’d sent Gabe over to Albert’s office, and he expected them any second.

  “Not to me. He did spend a little time with Daisy getting patched up.”

  “What do you mean, patched up? Did something happen?”

  “He got into a scuffle with the deputy.”

  “Dwight Hoskins? What in the blazes would they fight over?”

  “I wasn’t privy to that information, Chase.” She briefly touched his arm again. “Wait here.”

  Philomena hurried over to Daisy, smiling and flirting as she went. She whispered something into the girl’s ear, and Daisy looked over to where he waited in the doorway, the dark night at his back. She hurried over.

  “May I help you?” she asked, over the pounding of the piano. “Philomena said you wanted to talk to me.”

  “I hope so. I’m looking for Jake. Philomena said he was in today and that you spent time with him. I hope you can tell me where he is.”

  “We spent time downstairs,” she said quickly. Her face turned rosy even in the dim light. “We only talked for a few minutes. That’s all.”

  Chase nodded. “He didn’t mention his plans tonight?”

  She looked at him distrustfully. Albert and Gabe rode up and dismounted. He turned. “I guess if you don’t know anything…”

  “Wait.” Daisy’s expression appeared torn. She knew something she wasn’t saying. Was she protecting Jake?

  “What is it, Daisy? What do you know? I’m afraid Jake may be involved in something over his head.”

  She nodded and leaned closer, so no one else could hear. “He’s meeting up with Rome Littleton tonight. South fork of Shady Creek. I’m worried about him.”

  A terrible sinking feeling all but smothered Chase. What in the blazes is going on? “Thank you for telling me, Daisy. You did the right thing.”

  Just as Albert came in, followed by Gabe, Chase grabbed both by the elbow and turned them around. Thom Donovan was behind them.

  Gabe’s face was grim. “Thom was just leaving the livery and saw me at the sheriff’s office. He wants to help.”

  Chase nodded. “Fine. Come on, boys. We have some riding to do.”

  Jake got off his gelding and tied him to a branch, feeling the weight of his gun strapped to his leg. Rome wasn’t there yet. He needed to get this behind him, the sooner the better. Get on with his life.

  He looked around, half expecting Gabe to step out from behind a tree. Keeping an eye on me. Worried I’ll get in deeper. A halfhearted smile crinkled the corners of his mouth. Gabe was a true friend. Without him he’d never have had the courage to leave Valley Springs, a town that held nothing for him but heartache, thanks to his mother. Gabe had also badgered him into trying things he’d never do on his own—like reading. They’d made a pact to read two books a year. Every time Jake got frustrated and wanted to quit, Gabe would help him work through it and teach him silly little rules to make it easier.

  Jake looked across the creek, deep and wide here at South Fork, thinking of a certain short story he’d just as soon like to forget. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that “The Tell-Tale Heart” had scared the heck out of him that snowy night last December. It had a way of sneaking into his subconscious on dark nights. Or when he was alone tending the herd. It rolled around in his head like hot coals. Poe sure knew how to weave a tale. Jake hated to think of the vulture eye, and worse, the crazy boy sticking his head in his benefactor’s room in the dead of night, murdering him and dismembering the poor old man. Stuffing him in—

  “Jake.”

  He jumped, his heart thwacking painfully against his ribs.

  It was Rome. The cowboy reined up in the clearing but stayed on his horse.

  Jake didn’t like it. Maybe it was the story he’d just been thinking about, but the hair on the back of his neck rose, and not because of the cool breeze. Leaves whispered softly in the trees as if trying to tell him something. He took a step toward his horse but didn’t get far.

  “You have my money?” Rome’s tone was harsh.

  Jake stopped. Turned. “Not all of it. Twenty dollars for now.”

  “I ain’t running no bank, Jake. I gave you more time than you deserved. Why, if you weren’t good for the money you ought not have taken my loan.”

  Rome was right.

  “So. What should I do with you?” Rome scratched a match and lit the end of a cigarette. “You tell me.”

  Jake followed the glowing line when Rome tossed the match into the river. His palms slickened. He’d been a stupid fool to come out here tonight all alone. Daisy was smarter than he was.

  “I know,” Rome finally said. “I’m moving some cattle tonight. Ten head over in the next valley. I want you to take them to Casper for me. A few days’ work is little to ask for that much money. That’ll take off the remainder of what you owe.”

  Cattle.

  “I’m not rustling.”

  Rome laughed. “Who said anything about rustling?”

  “It’s damn obvious to me.”

  Rome drew his gun and leveled it at Jake. “You’ll help, and shut up about it. It’s my word against a no-named nothing.”

  Clattering hooves sent rocks rolling into the riverbank. Both men turned. Dwight plunged his horse down a sharp drop and reined up next to Rome. His horse dripped sweat.
Dwight’s clothes were rumpled and his face bruised from the earlier fight. “I found cattle over the draw. And the bull from the Broken Horn.” He nodded toward Jake. “What’s this?”

  Rome smirked. “I caught one of your rustlers, Hoskins.”

  Dwight pulled up, as if startled at Rome’s words.

  “Who knows the land and ranches around here better than him?” Rome pointed to Jake with the end of his pistol. “It’s the perfect cover. If we take him in, Preston will just release him, being he’s such good friends with Logan. Best we take care of this here and now.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Jake itched to reach for his gun, but if he did he was a dead man. “I’m not a rustler, and you know it, Rome!” He knew his time was running out. “You’re the rustler,” he blurted. He chanced a glance at Dwight. The moon was just bright enough that Jake could see a satisfied smirk right under the purple shiner he’d given him in the saloon. His taunting words about Hannah and Thom Donovan slipped back. He wished now he hadn’t pushed that point quite so hard. Dwight wasn’t going to believe a thing he said, but Jake had to try or else this would be his last night on earth. “We were meeting out here so I could pay Rome the money I owed from the poker game. Look in my saddlebag, Dwight. You’ll find twenty dollars.”

  Rome laughed. “I never would have suspected you, Jake.”

  “It’s not true,” Jake insisted.

  Dwight looked between them. “Now, why would you ride all the way out here just to pay back a little money? Don’t make any sense at all. I don’t think that passes the honesty test, Jake, ole boy.” He untied the lariat looped on his saddle. “You know range law, Jake. Easier and faster than waiting on the circuit judge. Scares off other rustlers, too.”

  Jake jerked back, and sweat broke out on his brow. Rome’s gun—Dwight’s lariat. This might be it. My end. An ugly way to die. And what about Chase and Jessie? What will they believe? Regrets a mile wide rendered his heart as he fought to stay in control of his emotions. Daisy.