Love on the Range

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Love on the Range Page 3

by Mary Connealy


  “Bender? One of my cowpokes is in on this?”

  “Yep, he was in on it. They’re forming a jury, and he’ll hang. We listened in on a plot to kill you, Hanson, Hawkins, and those of us on the RHR. We think there are more traitors on every ranch, because they couldn’t have hoped loyal cowhands would stand by while their boss was killed and someone else took over. So ride careful.”

  That’s when she realized Judd was still holding her hand, and she quickly pulled it free. Judd looked between her and Falcon, then flashed a blinding white smile.

  Then his smile faded as he really looked at Falcon. “You’re the image of Clovis Hunt. I was unlucky enough to meet him a couple of times.” He turned back to Cheyenne. “We’ve heard how he stole your father’s land from you, Cheyenne. And now here you stand with the son of the man who stole from you?”

  Cheyenne felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over her. She just wasn’t up to a long explanation. “Falcon and Kevin are the brothers who were cut in. They’re both decent men and are doing their best not to profit off of the legal thievery in Clovis’s will. Falcon’s a fine man and a better tracker than I am.”

  Judd arched both brows and looked longer at Falcon. “Is that so?”

  “We’re getting married, and I believe that gets me a goodly chunk of my ranch back. Now, do you want a thousand more details, or do you want to find your stolen cattle?”

  “Your father was of my people, as you are, Cheyenne. I’d come to your aid if you needed it. That’s true today and for all time.”

  “Clovis’s will led to Falcon coming out west. That led to the outlaws being exposed. Falcon had no part in Clovis’s thieving.”

  Sheriff Corly had taken the time to shackle Wells’s hands.

  Judd noticed. “And this is one of the cow thieves?” Judd glared at him in a way that would make a stronger man than Wells confess to any crime he’d ever thought of committing.

  “Hey, not me.” Wells raised his bound hands as if to protect his face.

  “Yes, him,” Cheyenne said. “But he just joined them, probably after they’d done all their rustling. Though he was willing to throw in with them, so he’s guilty. But if he helps us, we might let him off with only a few years in prison instead of hanging him.”

  “Hanging?” Wells’s hands dropped, his shoulders slumped, and his head bent down until his chin rested on his chest. Yes, he’d tell them everything he knew.

  “Did my message make sense?” Cheyenne asked Judd. “Do you know where to go for your cattle?”

  “I know the place you described, and I sent men on ahead of me. I’ll go join them.”

  Cheyenne snaked out a hand and grabbed him. “Remember what I said about traitors. We think we’ve got the leaders, but watch for dry-gulchers, Judd. Watch real close.”

  Her hand tightened on his wrist until he flinched. Her eyes drilled into him. “My brother is lying in bed with a bullet wound. These men are ruthless coyotes, so be on guard. Wells here is the second turncoat we’ve found among our men, and we thought we could trust them all.”

  Judd nodded, his mouth a grim line.

  She released him. He turned, leapt on his horse in a way so graceful Cheyenne felt like she was watching a cougar leap from the ground to a tree branch. The horse raced away, and Judd’s men went with him.

  Behind him.

  Cheyenne said a prayer for his safety. For the safety of everyone trying to straighten this out.

  Falcon’s arm came firmly around her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Old friend?”

  She looked into those hazel eyes and smiled. “He is an old friend, and a married man with, I think, three children. And I only know that because I’ve heard it around town. I haven’t seen him in years.” She leaned into that arm of his and said quietly, “I’m so glad I’m going to marry you.”

  She saw the jealous flare in Falcon’s eyes calm, and he relaxed his grip.

  She turned back to Wells. “If I need to beat a confession out of you”—Wells flinched and didn’t seem to have the force of will to break eye contact with her—“I’ll just think of my brother, wounded, feverish, only alive through the pure grace of God, and everyone here will need to get in line behind me. Now, tell us how long you’ve been mixed up with this crew and the name of every man on every ranch around here that’s part of it.”

  “What did my father do to make Amelia Bishop, who is by all accounts a well-to-do, adventurous young woman with a powerful father, marry a poor choice like Percy Ralston and live in hiding for months?” Winona curled up in Kevin’s arms.

  He couldn’t believe how nice it was to have such a fine woman as his wife. “I don’t like your pa, what little I know of him. Add in the things you’ve told me of him and how fiercely you refused to live with him, and I can believe he did something so terrible Amelia thought she had to run and stay hidden.”

  Kevin felt bad that he and his beautiful new wife believed her father was capable of doing something awful. Kevin’s father, Clovis Hunt, had done something awful, so he knew just how she felt.

  “Cheyenne said Ralston lied to Amelia,” Win said. “Convinced her she was still in danger. And seeing as he was a rustler, and he was stealing from my father, his motives were very personal.”

  “She picked a poor choice, for a fact. Why didn’t she just have Ralston take her to town? She could have told the sheriff she was afraid of your pa and stayed near him until the train left for the east.”

  They sat together in the ramrod’s house. Kevin could hardly bear to let her out of his sight. She seemed just as devoted to him. After they’d been married awhile and the danger had passed, they would probably loosen up, but for now, he was hanging on tight to her, enjoying every moment.

  “I should find time to talk with Molly,” Kevin said. “I tried to talk to her, but Wyatt’s fever spiked, and I didn’t really clear things up. The two of us were always partners running the farm, raising Andy. I feel like I’ve abandoned her.”

  “I started talking to her a couple of times, but it’s hard when we’re taking care of Wyatt. We need to get over there and let her rest.”

  “He’s past the worst of the danger. We’ll start taking turns caring for Wyatt, and once Molly is rested, we can both spend more time with her. I want her to know this new family I’ve started with you . . .” He paused to kiss Win long and deep. God was truly taking care of him. God would take care of them both. “Well, she’s part of that family. Marrying you doesn’t mean she’s not still my sister, partner, and friend.”

  Things had changed though. And they would stay changed. But he wanted Molly to be a part of that change.

  And he’d tell her that, just as soon as he could find a minute when she wasn’t busy, and he was able to pull himself away from his precious little wife.

  Four

  OCTOBER 1870

  I’m going to unwrap your arm today.” Molly remembered all her high-minded talk of being on her own, taking over the school, living independently.

  Six weeks later, here she still was with the Hunt clan. On the RHR.

  Everyone else spent time working the ranch; even Kevin was showing some skill at being a cowboy. And Cheyenne in particular was having trouble trusting her cowhands. The whole group of them seemed to be working hard and settling in.

  Except her.

  It’d taken some talking, but Falcon had agreed to live in the house. He couldn’t stay forever, and no one believed he would. He talked of a small cabin in the woods, and Cheyenne talked of the house her parents had lived in before her pa had died.

  But with Wyatt laid up, Kevin and Win in the ramrod’s house, and Cheyenne needing all the help she could get to take up all the work left by Wyatt and their betraying cowhands, there’d been no time to move out.

  They’d had a cattle drive, and Falcon had gone along with Cheyenne. Andy too. Kevin and Win had stayed around. Because it was improper for Molly to stay in the house alone with Wyatt, Kevin and Win had moved in while everyone else
was gone.

  Molly and Kevin had a chance to talk. Enough to make Molly worry about intruding on his new marriage. She and Win had formed a friendliness that Molly had trouble turning into a friendship. It was a small distinction, but Molly knew the difference. What’s more, it was her fault, and she knew it was rooted in the loss of Kevin as her best friend.

  The cattle drive was over and done. The rustler business was behind them. They’d never gotten a satisfactory answer to who shot Wyatt, but they hoped, because there’d been no more trouble, that it had been one of the rustlers who was dead.

  Falcon wanted to get moved before snowfall, which Molly understood came early in the highlands of Wyoming, early and deep.

  Wyatt interrupted Molly’s thoughts. “The wrap is coming off? You’re not just saying that so you can laugh at me later when I get my hopes up?”

  Molly smiled. “No, the pain seems to be gone, and six weeks is long enough for the bone to knit by my reckoning.”

  Wyatt, sitting up to the kitchen table, sighed. “I can’t believe I missed the cattle drive. I haven’t done that since I was old enough to sit on a horse. Might’ve been before that. I remember Ma telling a story of carting me along on her lap when I was about five months old. Nope, I’ve never missed one until now.”

  He glared at her.

  “Don’t look at me. I didn’t shoot you.”

  “You’re the one who poisoned the others against letting me go.”

  Shaking her head silently for a moment, Molly finally said, “You’re welcome.”

  She untied the waist-level knot under his left arm while she talked. “The bullet wound is healed up. All you’re left with is an interesting scar.”

  “Interesting?” He turned, and she realized, bent over as she was, their faces were very close.

  “But the collarbone needed time to heal. Riding a horse wasn’t possible.” She resolutely ignored his handsome face. Her hands trembled slightly against the warmth of his side. The knot was stubborn, but it finally gave.

  “I’m afraid it will be sore for a while,” Molly said. “Your shoulder and elbow haven’t moved in a long time. The muscles in your arm and chest may have gotten weak. But you’ll get your strength back. You’ll be fine.”

  She hoped.

  “How is it you, a young schoolmarm, know so many healing skills?”

  “I’m sure I’ve told you.” She worked quickly to unwrap him, not unlike a Christmas present, wanting to get it done and step away from him. She’d become too aware of him while he’d been healing.

  “Tell me again.”

  With an exasperated huff, she said, “The Civil War, remember? There was plenty of harm done on both sides during that trouble. My pa caused his share and was dealt his share. My ma got hurt a few times. Kevin and Andy, well, they were never hurt because Kevin got mighty good at keeping us hidden when the night was full of riders. But there was always someone getting knocked around by a cow or cut working a plow on a farm. Someone had to know where the salve was.” The truth was so much worse.

  The bandage fell away.

  “Move your arm gently,” Molly instructed. “Let me feel if your collarbone is solid when you move.” She took a firm grip on his shoulder. The doctor back in Wheatfield had come out for Pa’s broken arm. Molly had no idea what was wrong then. But later, when Ma had a broken collarbone, Molly remembered and knew what to do. Ma refused any doctor’s help when she was hurt, so it was left for Molly to do the best she could.

  Wyatt flinched as he raised his arm, rotated his shoulder, and straightened his elbow, but a smile bloomed on his face. “It feels good. Like you said, the joints hurt, but it’s healed.”

  “You’re right. Nothing shifted.” Molly pressed along the line of his shoulder. “I feel a thickened place here, and that’s normal for a broken bone.”

  She patted him on the back, then quit touching him and stepped away. “You’ll need to treat the arm carefully for a bit.”

  Wyatt was out of his chair and striding for the back door, not being careful at all, when Cheyenne came thundering down the stairs. “Look at this, Wyatt.”

  “Why do you want my family Bible?” Falcon was on her heels. He looked mighty confused.

  “The date Falcon was born is written in here.” She bent her head over the book, open in her hand.

  “It is?” Falcon tried to look over her shoulder.

  “I thought you didn’t know how old you were?” Wyatt came to Cheyenne’s side.

  “I don’t.” Falcon scratched his head. “Not exactly.”

  “You were twenty-nine last January.”

  “And I was three or four when Pa ran off. Ma died when I was ten.”

  “Are you sure about that? About your age?” Cheyenne asked.

  Falcon nodded, but there was no great certainty in it.

  “We have to track it down. Make sure.” Cheyenne looked up from the old Bible in her hands and locked eyes with Wyatt.

  “I can’t read nor write,” Falcon shrugged. “I couldn’t write down the date she died in our Bible.”

  “If Falcon’s right about his age when his ma died,” Wyatt said, “Clovis’s marriage to my ma isn’t legal, and that means the will isn’t legal and the land is Cheyenne’s and mine.”

  “We have to make sure, but if we’re right, this fixes everything.” Cheyenne shoved the Bible into Wyatt’s hands and rushed out of the room.

  Falcon watched her go, then said sheepishly, “It’s strange to have my wife all excited about me losing an inheritance. I don’t care. I’m not a rancher. Honest, I’m happy for her. But it don’t seem quite right.”

  Wyatt came to his side and slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re married to her. I know from good old Pa that whatever she owns is yours. So instead of owning a third of the ranch, you now own half.”

  “And Kevin owns none.” Falcon gave Molly a worried look.

  “He stands to inherit all of Hawkins Ranch, even if he’ll never get Win to go near it while her pa’s alive,” Wyatt said.

  “You were alone in a cabin in the mountains from the age of ten?” Molly’s heart twisted. “I was nine when my parents died. But I had Kevin.”

  “Yep, I was a mighty scared boy.” Falcon got a faraway look in his eyes and was somber when he said, “Ma was ailin’ awhile, so I knew it might happen. She talked herself blue trying to teach me to get by without her. I could hunt, and I’d worked the place with Ma since I was no bigger’n a sprout. I could plant and hoe the garden. I could find berries and nuts, there were roots growing wild. I could fetch ’round a possum or a brace of rabbits, snare a quail, and I sure enough knew how to go fishin’. Whatever I caught, I could skin, cook, and eat. I could make leather out of a hide. I knew how to load my gun and hit what I aimed at. I could use a bullet mold. I got by. But I was so alone my ears echoed like someone shoutin’ down the holler.”

  Molly came to his other side and patted him a lot more gently than Wyatt.

  Falcon looked to Wyatt on his left, then Molly on his right. “It’s a whole lot better having family about.”

  Molly nodded, though some days she had her doubts.

  “You got yourself untied.” Falcon turned to look at Wyatt’s arm. “You’re well, then?”

  “Seems like it. I’m crazy to get outside. Saddle up a horse and ride. Want to come?”

  “Sure. If we’re right, my wife owns half this ranch.”

  The two of them grinned at each other and charged outside.

  Molly smiled after them. When the back door slammed, her smile faded. She felt . . . Well, Falcon had said it about right. She felt so alone her ears echoed.

  She made plans to get on with her life. Find a job.

  Then, plotting her escape, she turned to setting the kitchen to rights. All Wyatt’s bandages were scattered about. And there was a noon meal to get. She’d ride to Bear Claw Pass right after she’d cleaned up. She hadn’t heard who replaced Win for the teacher’s job, but she’d make sure to see if they’
d found someone. If not there, she’d find a diner that needed a cook. Or a hotel that needed a housekeeper.

  Teaching was what she wanted though.

  Before she headed for town, she’d see how the noon meal went.

  It wasn’t something she was proud of, it made her feel some shame in fact, but she wanted to be thanked for the food. Helped with the food. Appreciated for the clean house, the made-up beds. The scrubbed pots and pans. The laundry and mending. She wasn’t sure quite how she’d ended up running this house alone.

  All she knew was it hurt her.

  Especially Kevin marrying Win, which was an absolutely normal thing for an adult man to do. But he hadn’t talked to her before the wedding. They’d always been such partners, and now he had a new one.

  He’d moved into the life of a completely reasonable adult.

  She had to do it, too. Not just hang around here feeling pitiful.

  And furious.

  Both feelings, she was sure, were sins. And sins she was committing with great regularity. It had to end, and she’d end it by getting on with living.

  She turned to her cooking. She’d make the noon meal the best they’d ever had. She was a better cook than Win and a far better cook than Cheyenne. Kevin was probably the second-best cook around here, Andy third. The rest of them were nothing to boast about. Although she had to admit that Falcon might do wonders with a possum.

  An unworthy part of herself wanted them to miss her.

  She’d fry chicken because she had a knack for that, and she knew just the chickens she’d use. A few young roosters were still about from the spring hatching.

  Her chicken gravy was delicious, and her mashed potatoes smooth and fluffy.

  Gleefully, she decided to make up a delicious custard with an unusual crunchy caramel topping that always left Andy and Kevin groaning with full bellies and pure bliss.

  She hadn’t made it since she’d come here.

  Surely, they’d say thank you. Maybe they’d even show some kind of true appreciation for her. Maybe they’d even be so kind she’d settle down and decide to stay.

 

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