Inherit A Dream (Sons Of A Gun Book 4)

by Brenda Sinclair

  Faith appeared on the front veranda and waved. “Violet’s in the barn,” she called as she hurried down the steps.

  “Thank you.” Roland tied the mare’s reins to the hitching rail, grabbed his doctoring bag, and wandered toward the barn.

  In a moment, Faith appeared at his side. “Are you here to see Atlas?”

  “Yes, I am. Violet said he’s been coughing a bit.” Roland continued toward the barn with Faith’s stride matching his own. He appreciated a tall gal, and he could tell she hailed from a family of industrious women. Faith wasn’t afraid of putting in a hard day’s work; Violet endlessly praised her assistance on the ranch.

  “For a couple days now,” Faith confirmed. “Violet hasn’t any idea what the problem could be.”

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for.” Roland yanked open the side door and held it for Faith to enter ahead of him. His sister kept a clean barn and the scent of hay and horse greeted his nose. Some ranches he visited to tend the critters had his eyes watering from the stench of urine and manure in the barns.

  “Violet,” Faith called, as she strode down the aisle toward the back of the barn. “Roland has arrived.”

  Violet popped her head through a half door. “In here.”

  Roland entered the stall and patted the old gelding on his side. No wonder Violet summoned him. This animal had been their father’s favorite horse. “Atlas, what’s the matter, old fellow?”

  The horse hung his head and shifted his feet. A second later, the gelding’s sides heaved, he extended his neck and uttered a cough.

  “Did you hear that sound?” Faith exclaimed. “That’s it. That’s what’s happening.”

  Roland nodded. “Definitely a cough.”

  “What do you suppose is wrong?” Faith blurted.

  Roland glanced at her and chuckled. Whose horse was this? The ranch hand seemed more concerned than his sister. Or at least, equally worried. “I’d wager either he has an infection or something is irritating him. ”

  Faith beamed at him. “My thoughts, too,” she whispered.

  He dug his stethoscope out of the bag. “Let’s have a listen, Atlas.” He found the horse’s heartbeat strong and steady, and his lungs sounded clear.

  Faith stood nibbling on a fingernail.

  “Lungs sound good,” he muttered to himself. “Probably not a lung infection.”

  Faith heaved an audible sigh. “That sounds promising.”

  He couldn’t detect any suspicious odors coming off the old horse. Ones that might indicate obvious infection somewhere. He looked into the horse’s eyes and could see the animal was definitely feeling distressed. Something wasn’t right. He walked around the gelding’s stall, rubbing his hand down the horse’s sides and flanks. “How’s Atlas eating?” He glanced at Violet.

  “Feeding the horses is Faith’s job.”

  “Same as usual.” Faith tipped her head, appearing as distressed as the horse. “Should I not be feeding him?”

  “Actually, if he’s not off his feed that’s a good sign.” Roland met his sister’s eyes. “Does Atlas cough more when he’s outside or when he’s in his stall?”

  “I haven’t noticed a difference.” Violet stood hands on hips.

  “Maybe more when he’s out in the corral, now that you mention it,” Faith offered.

  “Have you seen any signs of phlegm in his stall or on the barn floor?”

  Both Violet and Faith shook their heads.

  “Any nasal discharge? Anything dripping from his nose?” Roland looked from one woman to the other, awaiting an answer.

  “A bit, I’d say,” Violet glanced at Faith.

  “I’ve seen it, too. Clear liquid, though. No color to it,” she replied, smiling at Roland.

  He caught himself staring at her. Judging by the smudge of flour on her cheek, she must have been baking one of those wonderful cakes or pies she was becoming known for. Even wearing the floral bib apron she’d forgotten to remove before leaving the house, she’d never looked lovelier.

  He looked into his doctoring bag, annoyed with himself that Faith had so easily disrupted his work. But she did made a lovely distraction. “Did I take Atlas’s temperature?” he muttered to himself.

  “No, you didn’t,” Faith answered promptly.

  He glanced at her. “Right. I should be taking notes.”

  “Oh, let me do that.” Faith’s face lit up and she clasped her hands together. “Where do you want me to write things down?”

  “It’s all right. I’ll do it when I’m finished,” Roland said, backtracking. If eagerness was talent, Faith would be instructing him on how to examine this horse.

  “Faith wanted to be an animal doctor,” Violet whispered the admission.

  “You did?” Roland caught himself gaping at her and busied himself with taking the horse’s temperature. Normally, he wouldn’t stick a thermometer up the south end of a north facing horse in the presence of ladies, but he doubted his sister and Faith would bat an eye while observing the necessary procedure.

  Faith nodded. “Yes, but they don’t allow girls enrolling in veterinarian school. Stupid rule if you ask me. I could have become a great vet. I doctored kittens and puppies on our family ranch. Even bottle-fed an ailing calf once, saved its life when its mama passed after birthing her.” She stood looking over Roland’s shoulder, either checking his technique or eager to learn the result of the temperature taking.

  “Sounds like you would have been a very good vet,” Roland agreed, removing the thermometer.

  “Not that I had the money to go. Just a silly dream.” Faith shrugged, taking a step back to allow Roland room to move. “I bet you learned so many interesting things at school. All about animal anatomy and different treatments and how to perform surgeries and—”

  “Well, I’m sure Roland wouldn’t mind if you helped him with his doctoring,” Violet suggested, winking at her brother. “Especially if someday, you—”

  “So his temperature is normal,” Roland said, interrupting his sister, knowing where her thoughts were headed. And he’d never admit to her that he shared similar thoughts about his sister’s ranch hand. He glanced around the stall. “The color and consistency of his droppings appear normal enough. Has he been drinking regular amounts of water?”

  Faith nodded. “Yes, drinks his bucket dry, same as always. And I haven’t noticed any unusual-smelling urine. I reckoned that would be an important observation.” She smiled at Roland again.

  “Very good to know.” Roland removed his Stetson and scratched his head. “Well, it’s probably an irritant of some kind. Maybe dust. Is Atlas’s hay dusty?”

  Violet shook her head. “No more than usual. Hasn’t bothered my other animals.”

  “I notice on windy days there’s a lot of blowing dust and dirt in the air.” Faith met eyes with Roland. “Atlas spends a lot of time out in the corral. Maybe we should keep him in his stall on windy days.”

  “Past few days have been quite windy. Lot of dirt blowing around open spaces.” Roland scratched his chin. “Did you notice Atlas getting worse?”

  “Yes. Especially today. Maybe at his age, the dirt and dust bothers Atlas more than the other younger animals,” Faith speculated, patting the aging gelding’s neck.

  “I’ll give him a dose for his cough and hope that helps him feel better. Keep watch over him, and keep him in the barn for a week at least. We don’t want him getting worse. If it’s something in the hay, we need to rule that out now. And we certainly want this solved before winter comes and he’ll be stuck in his stall even more.”

  “All right,” Faith agreed.

  “If the dusty air is the culprit, then he should improve while confined to the barn. And his coughing should disappear altogether before winter.”

  Faith smiled. “I’ll provide you with a weekly report on Atlas and his condition, every Sunday after services.”

  “That would be beneficial. And I’m certain my sister appreciates this enthusiasm for your work and dedic
ation to her animals.”

  Violet snorted. “I don’t believe for a minute Faith is all that taken with Atlas. Our old gelding is not the main attraction here.” She wandered toward the house.

  Faith rubbed her hands down her apron. “You’re staying for supper, right?”

  Roland nodded. “Yes, ma’am. And I’m looking forward to whatever you made.”

  “Stew and dumplings. And apple pie for dessert,” she replied, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Sounds delicious. Let me finish with Atlas. I’ll wash up and meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes.” He considered leaving the ranch and forgoing the meal for a few moments, knowing the ribbing would continue if his sister had any say in it. But he wouldn’t disappoint Faith, who’d no doubt been cooking all afternoon for his benefit.

  “See you soon,” Faith called, racing toward the house.

  Roland smiled. That girl was definitely smitten with him. He couldn’t find a single fault with her way of thinking, considering he felt exactly the same way about her. She’d won his heart that first night he met her at the McLennon ranch, the day he returned home after graduating vet school.

  He fed the old gelding a small ration of feed and tossed some hay into the manger. “Eat your fill and then I’ll doctor your throat after supper.”

  He’d mix up a dosing for Atlas using molasses, camphor and other ingredients he’d brought with him. No doubt, Faith would ask a dozen questions, all the time looking over his shoulder, and perhaps even taking notes. He chuckled and looked at Atlas. The old gelding stared back at him as if to say Doc, I’m hurting a mite. Can you do something? The horse’s sides heaved and he coughed again.

  “Maybe I’ll let Faith struggle to hold your tongue sideways out of your mouth while I put the concoction on the back of your tongue so you’ll have to swallow and not spit it out.” He smiled, considering the entertaining production that could become.

  If he did marry Faith one day, he couldn’t think of a better nurse for his practice. She’d certainly demonstrated sufficient enthusiasm for the job. And no one could question her love for animals and the knowledge she’d garnered on her own.

  “I’ll mix ingredients for simple expectorant balls, leaving Faith to mix in the honey and form the balls. Between Faith and Violet, they’ll get the balls into you over the next few days. Then you should notice an improvement.” Roland patted the aging gelding’s neck. “We want you around for a few more years, old fellow.”

  As he closed the barn door, he remembered the delicious supper that awaited him. No doubt about it. With her eagerness to tend critters and her cooking ability, Faith would make one fine animal doctor’s assistant and a truly remarkable wife. He’d best scoop her up before another fellow came along and beat him to it.

  Chapter 22

  August

  Roundup preparations were under way and Violet’s excitement and anxiety had reached new heights. Provided everything went as planned, in another few weeks, she’d pay the bank and she and Roland would own the Triple C. All of her hard work would be proven worth it.

  Today, Violet met with the McLennons and other area cattlemen at the Double M to ready everything for early September, when the area ranchers would round up all of the cattle in the area. Then the stock would be sorted according to brands and either be sold or wintered over to breed for next year’s stock.

  As a woman in charge of her own ranch, Violet stood beside Simon, comforted by his nearness. At least, he believed she belonged in the company of these seasoned ranchers during the grueling days ahead. She and Faith arrived prepared and they’d probably surprised a few of the old fellows who made no secret they considered ranching a man’s job. Violet had to admit before her father’s death, she shared similar thoughts on the matter. But if necessary, a woman handled what needed doing, no matter what challenges or hardships that entailed. And regardless of anyone else’s opinion.

  “I believe we’ve covered everything, folks.” Jackson stood hands on hips beside the corral. “Thank you for coming today. We couldn’t be better prepared, in my opinion.”

  A murmur of agreement rumbled throughout the ranchers.

  “Boss, ya got a minute?”

  Simon turned at the sound of the man’s voice and Violet followed his gaze.

  One of the Double M ranch hands waved as he approached on horseback, riding with determination.

  “Who do you want?” Jackson replied.

  The ranch hand reined in his horse, his gaze roaming the crowd. “This might be of interest to all of you.”

  Violet glanced at Simon and he shrugged.

  “What’s the problem?” Simon met the man’s eyes.

  “We might have some cattle missing,” he hedged.

  “Might? Or do?” Jackson interjected.

  “I reckon we do,” the fellow clarified. “I’ve been riding herd keeping watch what with the coyotes in the area. Seems we’re short a lot of Herefords.”

  “Double M stock?”

  The ranch hand nodded and gazed at several of the other ranchers. “Could be you folks are missing some cattle also, if’n we got rustlers working in the area.”

  “Rustlers?” blurted one of the ranch owners.

  Violet’s stomach dropped to her toes. Rustlers? The very word sent her heartbeat racing. She couldn’t afford to lose any of her herd to thieves.

  “Ideal time with all them cattle ready for market,” one old rancher speculated.

  A cacophony of cussing and complaining erupted, despite Violet and Faith and a couple other women being in their presence.

  “Quiet! And mind your language, we’ve got ladies present,” Jackson shouted, glaring at the culprits. He took a deep breath and kicked a rock with his boot. “We’re not certain there’s rustlers at work here. Could be we lost a few head to predators.”

  “More than a few, boss,” the Double M ranch hand suggested. “I reckon there’s not near as many head as was in that particular valley a couple weeks ago.”

  “Part of the herd might have moseyed onto greener grass,” Simon suggested.

  Another rancher shook his head. “Then the whole bunch of them would have moved.”

  “I’m going to check on my herd,” Violet muttered in Simon’s direction. She waved at Faith standing nearby talking to the daughter of one of the ranchers. They’d been so preoccupied with roundup preparations, neither of them had checked on the herd for nearly a week now.

  Faith hurried over. “Did you hear what that fellow said?”

  “Sure did. And I didn’t like it one bit.” Violet touched Faith’s arm. “Come on. We’re going to check on our herd.”

  Faith nodded and raced toward the far end of the corral to fetch their horses.

  Simon clasped Violet’s arms with his hands and looked deep into her eyes. “Let me know if you have cattle missing. I’m going to check a few nearby valleys where I know our cattle have been. I’ll drop by the Triple C tonight and we can share what we’ve learned.”

  Violet nodded. “I’ll be expecting you.” She hurried over to Faith and mounted up. As she rode toward her land, she silently prayed the news would be good.

  * * *

  Violet couldn’t eat a bite of supper. She’d been too shocked to attempt anything more than sit on the veranda and stare into space since she returned to the Triple C with Faith. How could this have happened? Faith disappeared into the house a while ago, and Violet reckoned she’d gone to bed early while Violet waited for Simon.

  She watched the lone rider approach from the east, knowing it would be him. Would he have good news to share? Or would he have discovered substantial losses on the Double M also? He rode up, reined in his horse, and dismounted. Barely taking time to tie Hero’s reins to the hitching rail, he bounded onto the veranda, taking the steps two at a time.

  “What did you learn?” he blurted.

  “It’s not good,” Violet whispered, blinking rapidly to keep from bursting into tears. She’d already cried most of the afterno
on.

  “How many?”

  “Gone? Or left?”

  Simon settled onto the chair beside her. “How many did you find?” he asked, softly.

  “Eighteen!” she blurted, unable to keep the tears at bay any longer. “Eighteen!”

  Simon reached for her hand. “That means…”

  “You can cypher as well as I can.” Tears streamed down her face. “Those bastards stole eighty-seven head from me. Eighty-seven.”

  “Almost every rancher reported some cattle missing. We estimated the Double M lost a couple hundred Herefords and several longhorns also.”

  “That’s not most of your herd.” If her language had shocked him, he hadn’t shown it. “How am I going to repay the bank? How will I pay off the mortgage? I’m ruined.”

  Simon moved closer and wrapped his arm around her, but she rose to her feet.

  “I’ve been a complete fool. What made me think I could do this?” She paced the length of the veranda and back again. “I should have listened to Roland. I should have sold the Triple C to you, banked the proceeds, and moved to town. At least I’d have something left. Now all I’ve got is a few head and debts that would choke a horse.”

  Simon snagged her hand as she brushed by him. He turned her around to face him. “The McLennons aren’t giving up that easily, and you’re not either. Daniel is still here and he’s organized the area ranchers to search in a grid. We’ll cover more ground that way, and we’ll find our cattle. Even Roland is coming. He and I roamed the entire district around Milestone since we were kids. We know every square mile of this area. We’re heading out tomorrow at first light.”

  “I’m coming!” Violet blurted. “I need to find my cattle!”

  He appeared ready to argue her decision, but probably knew she’d come anyway.

  “Be at the Double M at five tomorrow morning and come prepared. We’re not certain how many days this will take.”

  Violet nodded. “I’ll leave Faith here to keep an eye on things. To tend the horses and keep watch on Moe. He healed well but I don’t want him overdoing.”