A Man with a Past

by Mary Connealy

  “But Win came in to check on the maps with Wyatt’s other brother, Kevin. Why would she write on that line that it was the boundary between her father’s ranch and mine?” Cheyenne knew better than to call the ranch “mine.” It for a fact was not hers. But it best described the property so she said it.

  “I was here when she visited with Kevin. I watched Kevin draw a map, and he asked me some questions about it as he worked. I remember Win saying your land bordered hers. I suppose she just made a quick note of that? As far as I know, Winona has never shown any interest in her father’s property lines. Unless perhaps she also has a map at home.”

  Cheyenne considered that. Win never went home if she could help it. It was doubtful she spent any time studying maps there. Cheyenne nodded and looked at that strange oblong circle cut out of her property. “Does that land have an owner, then?”

  Gordon turned to open a drawer and thumbed through the files. He came to the spot he was searching for and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  Bringing it back to the counter, he said, “I’ve got a deed here listed to Percival Ralston.”

  “He’s from the Hawkins Ranch. He’s been there for years.” Cheyenne frowned. “He was the foreman there for a time, then he had his leg badly broken riding a bronc. I think he does bookwork for Oliver now. I really don’t know what he does, I only know he’s got a bad limp and doesn’t work cattle anymore. Ralston owns this stretch?”

  Gordon nodded.

  “What’s the date on the sale?”

  Gordon looked in his files. The drawer slid farther open, and the papers crinkled as he thumbed through them. At last, he pulled out a sheet of paper and read for a bit. “He’s owned it for nearly ten years, it seems. That was before I came to the area. Actually, the date he bought it was only weeks before I started this job.”

  Gordon frowned at the date. “Odd, I know the land office was empty for a time before I got here because the former agent died at his desk. It looks to me like Ralston bought it when there wouldn’t have been anyone to sell it to him.”

  With a shake of his head, Gordon said, “Maybe someone appointed a temporary agent. The agent might have moved on when he heard I was to arrive, but he wasn’t here when I got to Bear Claw Pass. At any rate, Ralston must have come in hunting a home and found a gap in the rugged land between the two ranches. Maybe he was struck by it the same as your grandpa. Looking to spend his old age on that mountain gazing at the view.”

  “Grandpa owns that land and did so long before ten years ago. I’ll go home and hunt through our deeds. You may have to refund Ralston’s money.”

  Gordon peered at the paper. “That will be no hardship. There’s a thousand acres on that hill, but he was charged only two pennies an acre.”

  “That’s twenty dollars. He bought all that land for twenty dollars?” Falcon landed a hand on his hat as if the surprise of it would knock it away.

  “It’s listed as wasteland. It has little to no value. I admit that’s an exceptionally low price, but a mountain with no grazing land, well, it wouldn’t be worth much.” Gordon read the papers with a frown. “The name of the land agent on the deed isn’t right though. It’s the name of the man who died. And I know the purchase date was after his death. Maybe they dated it wrong. But it’s irregular.”

  Gordon looked at Cheyenne, then at Falcon. “I’m going to check into this more closely. I can compare the previous land agent’s signature and look into other land sales from around that time. I’ll see if any other sales were made between when I know my predecessor died and I arrived. And I’ll check the older documents and see what your grandfather bought using those older deeds.”

  As he tapped the counter, his eyes lit up. “Yes, if your grandpa bought this land, there should be an old deed saying so. You bring me in a copy of the original deeds, and we’ll check them against each other. If this is your grandfather’s land, then there is some skullduggery at hand.”

  “I can come in with the deed tomorrow. Or wait longer if you need time.”

  “Tomorrow would be fine.”

  “I might bring Wyatt with me. We both heard Grandpa talk about that land. We both believed he owned it. He certainly spoke of it as if he did.”

  “Wyatt’s voice added to yours is a good idea. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you.”

  Cheyenne reached out her hand. Gordon hesitated; shaking a woman’s hand wasn’t the usual thing, but he took her hand anyway.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Cheyenne nodded and pulled her gloves on as she walked outside with Falcon behind her.

  They reached the horses before she said, “Let’s ride out to that mountain. I haven’t been there for years. It was more Grandpa’s way to gaze at pretty scenery than mine. But I’d like to see if Percy Ralston has put himself up a cabin on my land.”

  “Let’s find the deed first.” Falcon swung up on his horse. “No sense charging in to land when we don’t have the law on our side.”

  “That’s my family’s land, Falcon.”

  “I believe you. Now let’s prove it.”

  Cheyenne gave Falcon a steely-eyed look, then reined her horse around and rode out of town for home.

  Molly heard the door open and turned to see her new sister-in-law come in.

  “I’ve been shirking here in the kitchen,” Win said. “I’ll make the next meal. We’ve been leaning hard on you for a while now.”

  The dark curls, bright blue eyes, and pink cheeks. A woman so colorful and with such a sunny smile. Molly could see why Kevin was drawn to her.

  Molly didn’t spend a lot of time looking in a mirror, but she knew she was a washed-out, colorless woman. Blue eyes, but so pale they didn’t matter much. Flyaway blond hair that always straggled loose from the tight little bun she wore. And the only time she had any color in her cheeks was if she stayed out in the sun too long. Then she looked red as an overripe beet and was, no doubt, about as appealing.

  Stifling the envy she felt at the pretty woman who’d turned her brother’s head, Molly prayed to be delivered from her unkind feelings of resentment. “I’ve got it started already. Rubin brought in a beef roast last night. I put it on early so it’d be done by noon. I’ve peeled the potatoes, and I’ve got carrots ready to bake, and room in the oven for them in just a few minutes when I take out the pound cake I’ve got baking.”

  Uncharitably, she wondered what the woman could be thinking to come in here an hour before the noon meal and expect it wouldn’t already be cooking. Unkind feelings again.

  She was unnecessarily hostile to Win. Again she prayed for God to guide her. “But I would appreciate it if you took over.”

  She had other work.

  “Tell me what’s left. I’m sorry I didn’t come over sooner, but I had to clean up after breakfast with Kevin. Then just now, Andy came in and asked Kevin if he wanted to go look at the branding. Learn a little about handling cattle. So Kevin left, and I finally got over here.”

  “Kevin and branding.” Molly shook her head. “I wonder if he’ll take to it. Do you want to be a rancher’s wife? Instead of a farmer’s wife?”

  Those pink cheeks turned a bit brighter. “I want to be Kevin’s wife. Whatever he works at, I’ll be working at his side.”

  Win’s eyes turned thoughtful, as she studied Molly. “I-I don’t talk about it much, though I told Kevin, but my father wasn’t a-a decent sort of man. I know you had trouble with your own pa.”

  Molly knew Kevin had told Win about the way Molly’s parents had died. But even Kevin didn’t know the whole story, and Molly was determined that no one ever did.

  “O-our parents died when I was quite young. But after . . . well, after . . . Kevin was there to help.” Molly’s chest hurt just from talking about such a terrible thing.

  Mentally squaring her shoulders, she shook off the old times. “I was old enough to manage the house and care for Andy, until I felt more like his ma than his big sister. I reckon that’s why it comes natural to c
ook for you all and keep the house tidy.”

  “Is there anything you’d like to do, just for pleasure? Take a break?”

  “Not really. I guess I could wander into the study and find a book.” She never sat around idle during the day.

  Win’s eyes lit up. She smiled. “Get yourself a cup of coffee. I’ll get the pound cake out of the oven, and there”—her eyes went to the bowl of icing on the counter—“you’ve got a glaze made for it. I’ll frost it, and you can drink coffee and eat cake while I work.”

  Win laughed. “Won’t that make you feel like a lady of leisure? And we can talk while I get the potatoes stewing and the carrots on to bake.”

  Her laughter was contagious enough that Molly managed a true smile.

  Before she sat, she said, “Let me check the cake. It should be done by now. Then yes, I’ll sit down. I’ll let you take over while I rest my weary bones.”

  Win smiled back, then got a coffee cup down while Molly checked the cake and found it done. She drew it out of the hot oven, set it on the folded kitchen towels she’d gotten ready to handle the hot pan, then slipped the carrots in. She moved the already peeled and quartered potatoes forward to begin their boiling.

  Now that everything was done, sure, she could sit and rest. But it had been nice of Win to offer, and the cake did need to be glazed while it was still hot.

  Win set the brimming coffee cup on the table and made a wide sweep of her hand. “My lady, your coffee is served.”

  Molly sat and picked up her coffee. If she wasn’t so frightened and sad about losing Kevin, her partner and best friend forever, she might come to like Win.

  But she wasn’t going to rush into anything.

  Cheyenne slammed the door open and stalked across the kitchen without looking left or right.

  Falcon, a pace behind her, said, “Molly, dinner sure smells good. Hi, Win. There’s a mix-up between the land office and Cheyenne’s memory of the ranch boundaries. We’re huntin’ the deed. Gonna straighten this out.”

  With a flinch, Cheyenne wondered how it’d happened that the roughhewn, barely civilized Tennessee mountain man with the addled brain had better manners than she did.

  By the time she was done flinching, she was through the room and forgot Win and Molly in her rush for Grandpa’s study.

  Cheyenne went straight for a row of drawers built into the wall of shelves behind Grandpa’s old wooden desk chair, always squared behind the massive oak desk Cheyenne’s pa had made for Grandpa as a Christmas present years before this house had been built.

  Cheyenne knew her ma and Grandpa had worked hard to make the study worthy of that pretty desk, and she always thought of the love of her family when she looked at it.

  She dropped to her knees by the first drawer and went straight to the D section. It was all real tidy. And she remembered right where those deeds were.

  They weren’t there.

  Scowling, she looked up to see Falcon standing there with his hands in his back pockets.

  “Aren’t you going to help me?”

  “Can’t read.”

  “Oh. Well, you won’t be much help, then.”

  “I reckon teachers like Molly and Win might help.”

  “I suppose. And this is now one-third Win’s ranch.” Cheyenne said it like she was taking bites out of the words. “She oughta come in here and help, except . . .”

  “Except what?”

  “The deeds aren’t here.”

  “Stolen? By Pa?”

  Well, that hadn’t occurred to her. She realized she was still wearing her hat. She reached up and tore it off her head. “Why would he do that?”

  “Um . . . maybe something about the map being changed . . . it might . . . if he was around . . . If that sale went through when there wasn’t a land agent, then it’s someone up to no good. And that sounds like Pa.”

  Sinking back from where she knelt to sit on her heels, she whacked her hat on the open drawer, then slammed it shut with a loud thud.

  “Or maybe it ain’t under Deed. It might be under Land or Ranch or Boundary or . . .” he trailed off.

  Whacking Falcon with her hat, which did no harm as he was standing and she was sunk down on the floor, she said, “I get it. I haven’t looked at those deeds for years. And maybe I haven’t ever looked at them. Maybe Ma and Grandpa had them out, and I was just standing around here listening. So I’d better go through the files more carefully.”

  She whacked Falcon’s ankles again, then tossed her hat on the desktop. She went back to the first drawer and slid it open. This ranch was an old one, and the files piled up. Still, a ranch didn’t run much on paper. It was mostly done with hard labor, sharp thinking, and a strong back. But the files had been years accumulating, and the job was a big one.

  Before she started, she looked up and sideways at Falcon, still standing there. “You should learn to read. It’s real handy.”

  Falcon shrugged.

  “We’ve got two teachers here at the house, and near as I can tell, not counting cooking and cleaning, mending and gardening, milking the cows and gathering eggs, neither of them have much to do.”

  “I think you have to count all of that. They have a lot to do.”

  “If they aren’t roping and riding, I don’t count it.”

  Falcon gave her a smile so small it mainly flashed in his eyes. “It counts. But come winter, if I’m still here, there might be some long evenings trapped inside. I might ask for help.”

  “Go now and ask them. I’m going to be a while.”

  Falcon looked over his shoulder at the open door, then he whispered, “I don’t want to talk to them.”

  “Why not? They’re your sisters.”

  His expression of horror made her laugh, and she sure hadn’t done much of that in a while.

  “They are not my sisters, and neither are you. Wyatt and Kevin are just barely my brothers. I like the idea of having a family, but I’d’ve preferred a less troublesome one. One where I get shot and drowned less often.”

  Cheyenne would have preferred a less troublesome family, too, so she could only agree. She decided to leave him to do whatever he wanted and turned back to her drawer.

  “I’m going to go through all the papers here, and I need to look in a chest that had been in Grandpa’s room and another that was in Ma’s. This is going to take all day.”

  “Get the teacher ladies in here to help.”

  “I will. We can spend the time after we eat going through everything.”

  “You’re fussing about a deed to land that isn’t even yours all right and legal, but, Cheyenne?”

  She ignored the churn of anger that lived day and night in her gut. “What?”

  “Whatever the law says, that land is yours. I won’t stand in your way. Pa used a bad law to cheat you, but I won’t be part of it.”

  “That’s real decent of you, Falcon.” Her stomach churned just a bit less. “I need to remember that Clovis did this to me. Neither you nor Kevin did it. I’ve been mad at all of you, and there’s no fairness in that. Not a lot of common sense, either. I’m going to try and behave better.”

  She closed the distance between them. “Thank you.”

  He nodded his head with a light in his eyes that could be humor.

  “Once I’m through with this, we’re going out to Mount Gilbert and see that stretch of land and find out how Ralston came to own it.”

  Win came to the office door right then and said, “Dinner is ready. Come join Molly and me. I don’t think Kevin or Wyatt will be back.”

  The meal was delicious, but Cheyenne barely tasted it in her haste to go straight back to sorting papers. The more she searched, the more she found in places she’d never considered. Molly and Win threw in with her, and Falcon went around and found eggs and milked cows to pass the hours.

  For all their searching, they didn’t find any deeds.

  When they sat down to talk with Wyatt and Kevin while they ate, Cheyenne told her story of the missing d
eeds. She’d accepted that they were gone. “I’ve got to give up.”

  As Wyatt sliced his roast beef, Falcon said, “Tomorrow, Cheyenne and me’re gonna go look at the land.”

  “I’ll go back out to the cattle,” Wyatt said. “Doubt you need a crowd to ride over there and see what’s what.”

  Cheyenne wanted to get to the bottom of this, and she wasn’t going to wait one day longer than necessary. “We’ll ride out at sunrise.”

  THIRTEEN

  If Ralston had built a cabin on Mount Gilbert, Falcon didn’t give it much chance of surviving the coming wrath of Cheyenne Brewster.

  They were making tracks, and Falcon kept up, but it was taking all he had. He was a fair hand at riding and wondered how much of it he’d done back in Tennessee.

  A cabin came into his head. Faded in, then vanished. An old, tumbledown cabin that looked like it was nigh onto hangin’ off the edge of a mountain.

  His head, along the back where he’d taken that bullet swipe, gave a sickening throb that cut deep and stretched around to the front of his head.

  And he thought of the cabin again, then it was gone.

  What did that mean? Was that his cabin?

  He forced himself past the pain to go over that vision of a cabin.

  “Pa, is that you?”

  He wanted to punch himself in the head to make it work. But his head was already considerably tender, so he didn’t do it.

  “We need to walk the horses awhile.” Cheyenne slowed her mount, and Falcon did the same. Nice and easy. Forcing himself to put the fight to remember aside and pay attention to here and now. He realized they’d done a lot of riding, and somehow, he knew how to do that.

  “I’m mighty good at handlin’ a horse.” Falcon looked at Cheyenne, a hand herself.

  They walked along, toward a big old mountain. It was a cool morning, but it’d warm up soon enough, so Falcon just enjoyed the ride. Before he’d had near enough of it, Cheyenne interrupted his painless thoughts.

  “The horses are rested.” She was sounding cranky again.