The Texas Cowboy’s Courtship (Testament Creek Book 1)

by Maya Stirling

  Grace stood and started toward the window, but Prudence seized her sleeve and held her back. "Stay away from the window. Whoever it is might have a gun."

  "We can't just sit here and let someone break into the house," Hope exclaimed. Having recovered from her momentary disappointment, Hope seemed determined to act.

  "Maybe Pedro is around," Grace suggested. "He could help."

  Grace was right. Lucia's husband might have remained, Prudence reflected.

  "Okay," Prudence agreed. She followed Grace out. Hope paused a few moments and then trailed behind Prudence. All three women made their way downstairs. Taking the long passageway from the kitchen, they exited the house by a door near the corner of the building.

  Once outside, they each stood absolutely still. Silence hung heavy in the darkness. Prudence strained her eyes, trying to make out even the slightest sound of movement. She saw nothing and huddled close to her friends.

  Glancing down, she saw a reflection of light on something metallic which Grace was holding in her hand. Prudence gasped. "Grace. Did you bring your gun?" she whispered.

  In the semi-darkness she saw Grace nod her head. Grace said nothing. Prudence's throat tightened. Now the situation was serious.

  "Oh, my," Hope murmured.

  There was a sound a few yards away. Something heavy, perhaps boots, shuffling on gravel. Grace called out. "Who's there?"

  Prudence heard more movements and caught a flash of light reflecting on metal. Perhaps whoever was there had a gun of their own, she told herself. Panic welled up inside her. She was about to order her friends to get back inside the house when Grace lifted her pistol high above her head and fired it into the night sky. The sound roared in Prudence's ears, hurting them for a brief moment.

  Hope gasped and clutched onto Prudence's arm.

  There was a hurried movement from the pathway. Then Prudence heard a voice, this time familiar. It came from the other direction, toward Pedro and Lucia's small residence.

  "Senoritas. Que pasa?" It was Pedro.

  Prudence heard thundering footsteps and then Pedro was by their side. He held a rifle and was peering intently at them.

  A light came on from Pedro's house. By its glow, Prudence could see the garden. There was no-one there. She heard a sound from the direction of the trees beyond the high grass. The pounding sound of horse's hooves thundered in the night.

  Pedro pointed his rifle in the direction of the rider and fired a shot. But the rider, whoever it was, had disappeared into the dense grove of trees.

  "Are you hurt?" Pedro asked urgently.

  All three women shook their heads. Pedro led them quickly into the house and they went to the kitchen. Lucia appeared. Her eyes were wide with worry as Pedro explained to her in Spanish. Lucia's face turned pale as Pedro spoke.

  Prudence could see just how powerfully Lucia felt about her, Grace and Hope. They'd formed a special bond with the wonderful Mexican woman and her husband.

  Lucia made coffee as Prudence, Grace and Hope spoke about what had happened.

  The Circle T wasn't just a place of wondrous beauty and promise for the future. It was also a place of dangers, all of which they'd have to face if they were going to claim the future Silas had bequeathed to them.

  But, as she sipped her coffee, there was one thing on Prudence's mind. How was Cal going to react when he discovered there had been a shootout at the ranch house?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  It took two hours to deal with the rustlers, but finally they were run off the Circle T. Sheriff Brady turned up a while after the last of the rustlers had disappeared into the night. He was accompanied by Tyler, his young deputy.

  Cal figured it was mighty convenient that the sheriff had missed all the shooting. Truth was, there hadn't been much exchange of fire. What there had been plenty of was chasing shadows in the darkness as Cal and his ranch hands had tried to stop cattle being run off the spread.

  This part of the boundary faced onto Largo's spread. At one point in the night one of Cal's ranch hands had suggested that maybe the rustlers were after Largo's cattle as well. Cal didn't have the heart to tell the young ranch hand how wrong he could be. As far as Cal was concerned Largo was probably involved in the rustling, although he knew getting proof of that might be hard.

  By the light of the flickering flames of the torches being held by some of the ranch hands, Cal sat on his horse and surveyed the results of the last few hours of chaos. The news wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Only a handful of cattle were missing.

  Sheriff Brady and his deputy rode up to Cal. "What have you been doing, Logan?" the sheriff demanded. "You haven't been stealing Largo's cattle have you?"

  Cal was dumbfounded and just stared at the sheriff for a long moment. He heard a couple of the nearby ranch hands laugh out loud. Brady's accusation was the most ridiculous thing Cal had heard in a long time.

  "Didn't you see those riders?" Cal demanded. "You know. The ones with the masks over their faces?"

  Sheriff Brady scowled at Cal. "I saw your men crossing into Largo's spread. That's what I saw." He peered into the semi-darkness. "And I saw them helping themselves to plenty of cattle." He gripped the pommel of his saddle. "Tomorrow, I'll be checking those brands. You better hope I don't find any of the Largo brand."

  Cal exhaled, disbelieving what he was hearing. He saw the deputy frown and avert his gaze from Cal.

  "You're not seriously accusing me of organizing this as some kind of charade so I can help myself to Largo's cattle, are you?" Cal grunted. "Because if you are, I'm figuring what I was thinking about you being crooked was true." Cal leaned forward and pointed a finger straight at the sheriff. "You're as rotten as the stink of a skunk. That's what you are, Brady."

  Brady sat up straight in his saddle and glowered at Cal. "You can't talk to me that way."

  "I can. And I will," Cal replied. "You're on Circle T land. I can say what I want." He pointed at the gathered ranch hands. "And I've got plenty of witnesses."

  "Those are public accusations you're making against a duly-elected man of the law."

  Cal laughed. He saw Brady's brows shoot up. "Don't make me laugh."

  Cal glanced at Deputy Tyler. He saw the man's eyes brighten with barely-disguised amusement. Perhaps the deputy could be an unlikely ally, Cal told himself.

  Brady bristled some more, losing his composure. "I could have you put in the jail for what you're saying."

  "Go ahead," Cal said. "Maybe the local judge would like to hear my thoughts on what's been going on around here."

  Brady's jaw tightened and he glanced quickly around. There were plenty of ranch hands waiting for the word, Cal told himself. They'd defend him, down to the last man. Of that he had no doubt.

  Sheriff Brady sighed heavily and hauled on his reins. His horse twisted its head and neighed loudly, complaining at the rough treatment. Cal frowned. He hated to see horses being treated badly.

  Brady tugged hard on the reins and pointed his horse back in the direction of town. "You heard what I said, Logan. Don't stand in the way of me doing my job."

  "You haven't even started doing your job. You haven't kept the law since the day you were appointed," Cal said.

  That last remark brought one final scolding look from the sheriff. Then he rode off into the night.

  As the laughter of the ranch hands rang out in the night, Deputy Tyler rode up slowly to Cal. Leaning forward, he said in a low voice: "Tomorrow. Twelve. The saloon."

  Before Cal had a chance to respond, the young deputy rode off in pursuit of Brady. Cal wondered what the man wanted to say to him. Whatever it was, he assumed it would involve the sheriff. Maybe the deputy had seen things he didn't like when working alongside Sheriff Brady. Cal would find out soon enough.

  He made his way back to the ranch house. Arriving in the yard, he saw that the house was dark and very quiet. Cal felt a sense of reassurance. At least there had been no trouble here, he told himself.

  As he dismounted, a fig
ure carrying a rifle came around the corner of the house. Cal reached for his pistol and then froze when he recognized Pedro.

  "Pedro!" Cal exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

  "Keeping guard," Pedro replied.

  "Why?"

  Pedro glanced at the house. "We had an intruder," he said.

  Cal grasped Pedro's arm. "When?"

  "Just after you left."

  Pedro then explained to Cal what had happened behind the house. When Pedro described hearing the single shot and finding Grace with the smoking gun in her hand, Cal didn't know whether to smile or frown.

  "No-one was hurt?" he asked breathlessly.

  Pedro shook his head. "The ladies are all safe and sound in their beds. No-one was harmed."

  "Did you see who it was?" Cal asked.

  Pedro shook his head. "I did not. He rode away over by the trees at the back." He grinned. "I did get a shot off, but I didn't hit him."

  Cal patted Pedro on the arm. "Well done." Cal gazed up at the dark window of Prudence's bedroom. The thought that she might have come to harm horrified him. "I'll take over, Pedro," he said.

  "Are you sure?"

  Cal nodded and then Pedro headed off for the comfort of his own bed.

  Cal sat down on the porch bench. It had been a wild night. He thought about what had happened. It was possible the rustler activity had been a diversion, designed to draw Cal and the ranch hands away from the house. If so, did that mean the intruder had intended to cause harm to the three women? Or, was there another explanation?

  Cal knew the answer to that.

  Rafael Largo's appearance at the birthday celebration had been an act of preparation. Largo had seen the way the Circle T was run. Had he used that knowledge to plan some kind of intrusion into the privacy of the three women? If so, what did he stand to gain?

  Cal thought about the sheriff's behavior. Brady had been too quick to accuse Cal. He'd come prepared to find something he could use against Cal, but had left empty-handed. That had been all thanks to the fast work of Cal's loyal ranch hands.

  He thought about what the deputy had whispered to him. Maybe Tyler had something he could tell Cal about the sheriff. Cal had already seen evidence that Tyler wasn't exactly a friend to the sheriff. Tomorrow, at the saloon, Cal might find out something he could use against the corrupt sheriff who was almost certainly in the pocket of Rafael Largo.

  Cal saw some of the ranch hands returning to the bunkhouse. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight. His nerves felt raw and he was wide awake. Cal laid a hand on his pistol, resting in its holster. Cal had more work to do tonight. He had to make sure the three women currently fast asleep inside the house were safe.

  And that was exactly what he was going to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  When she awoke the next morning, everything around the ranch house was peaceful. Going downstairs, and out onto the porch, she saw some sleepy-headed ranch hands emerging from the bunkhouse. There was no sign of Cal. She wondered where he was.

  Cal didn't turn up for breakfast. Lucia said he'd been up late during the night, although she couldn't say what he'd been doing since coming back to the ranch house in the middle of the night. After breakfast, Prudence kept busy around the ranch.

  Finally, later in the morning, Prudence decided to go into town to get some supplies. Arriving in town, she parked the buckboard outside the mercantile and spent an hour picking out the necessary items written down on her very long list. The owner of the mercantile helped Prudence place her purchases on the back of the buckboard.

  Realizing she needed to go to the bank, Prudence headed up Main Street. It was a beautiful sunny day. The boardwalk was busy. Some folks she recognized from church nodded polite greetings to Prudence as she passed them. She was beginning to feel right at home in Testament Creek. So much had happened since she'd arrived and there had been moments when she'd doubted she and her friends could ever become genuine ranch owners. But today, with her spirits high, she felt more confident about the future than ever before.

  The only shadow which hung over her today concerned the events of last night. She had only had a brief talk with one of the ranch hands about the rustlers. He had told her it had all been resolved. And there hadn't been any violence. The fact that there hadn't been any shooting made Prudence feel calmer.

  As she passed the saloon, a figure stepped out and crashed straight into her. Prudence gasped and staggered to one side. She felt herself start to tumble. A strong pair of hands seized her and held her tight. She gazed up into the eyes of Cal Logan.

  "Cal!" she exclaimed. Standing straight, she fussed with her bonnet and tried to compose herself.

  Cal gazed at her with genuine concern. "Are you alright?"

  "I am." She looked over Cal's shoulder. "What are you doing in a place like that?" She'd heard Cal say he wasn't given to drinking alcohol. So she was amazed to see him emerging from the saloon. The smell of drink coming through the batwing doors was overwhelming.

  "I was just passing through," Cal said, sounding awkward.

  Prudence lifted a brow. "Passing through? Were you out for a stroll and accidentally ended up in there?" she joked.

  Cal frowned and cupped her elbow in his hand. Leading her away, he said: "What do you say we go to the coffee shop?"

  "You're inviting me for coffee and donuts?" she asked.

  "Sure. What's wrong with that?"

  "Didn't you have any breakfast this morning? I didn't see you at the house."

  Cal frowned. "It was a long night. I had to catch up on some shuteye over at the bunkhouse."

  Prudence let Cal lead her across the road to the other side. They made their way into the coffee shop and took a seat by the window. He ordered coffee and donuts. Prudence examined Cal's features. He did look tired, she told herself. There were shadows under his eyes. But somehow, even though he looked weary, he still looked incredibly handsome.

  "Are you going to tell me about last night?" she asked.

  He quirked a brow. "I was going to ask you the same question."

  That set her back on her heels. "Did Pedro tell you?"

  Cal nodded slowly. "He sure did. Seems like you and Hope owe Grace a big thank you. My shooting instructions paid off."

  "That is one way of looking at it," Prudence said. "Grace could have told us she was carrying the pistol. I near jumped out of my skin when the shot went off."

  Cal smiled. "That wouldn't have been a problem if you'd let me teach you how to shoot."

  She frowned. "We've been over that enough times before."

  "You haven't changed your mind?"

  Prudence shook her head. "One wild shooter in the house is enough," she joked.

  The coffee and donuts came. For a short while they ate and drank without talking. She could tell he was concerned about what had happened at the house. The truth was, so was she. She could see sense in his suggestions that she learn how to shoot. But her principles were rock-steady. She wasn't going to take up arms. In any case, the Lord had found a way last night to protect them all.

  "What about you?" she asked.

  "What about me?" he echoed.

  Prudence lifted a brow. "You know what I mean. The ranch hands told me you got a visit from the sheriff."

  Cal glanced around the cafe. There were another four people at another table. He lowered his voice. "Brady and I didn't see eye to eye. He made some accusations."

  "What kind?"

  "That I arranged the rustling myself."

  "What!" Prudence exclaimed. "That's ridiculous."

  "You should have heard the way the ranch hands laughed when Brady accused me." Cal laughed quietly and stirred his coffee with a teaspoon.

  "How dare he suggest such a thing," Prudence declared. "Was he claiming you're stealing cattle from Largo?"

  Cal nodded and then shook his head. "Exactly that. He came up to the Circle T today to examine the brands."

  "He didn't find any Largo brands, did he?"

 
; Cal shook his head. "Me and the boys checked this morning at first light, before he came." Cal grinned. "Let's just say the sheriff was mighty disappointed he didn't see Largo's brand on any of your cattle."

  Prudence liked the sound of that. They were her cattle, of course. And they belonged to Hope and Grace, too.

  "Is Brady going to Largo's spread to check for any of our cattle?" she asked, even though she could already guess the answer.

  Cal shook his head. "He ain't planning to. He flat out refused when I told him to." He leaned closer to Prudence. "That sheriff is more rotten than a barrel of year-old apples."

  Prudence smiled at Cal. He had a pleasing glint in his eyes. She liked his good humor. Liked it when he teased her and joked with her.

  Then Cal spoke quietly. "We might have some unexpected help for our cause," he said. "The deputy sheriff, you know Tyler, he asked to meet me in the saloon."

  "So that's why you were there," Prudence said.

  "Tyler has been concerned about the sheriff for a while now. Tyler doesn't like what's been going on. He's been keeping a distance between himself and some of the things the sheriff has been getting up to."

  "Tyler is a good guy?"

  Cal nodded. "He's a straight-shooter. I think he'll be able to provide some evidence when the time comes to bring the sheriff of Testament Creek to justice. And we're not going to wait too long, believe you me."

  "That is good news," Prudence declared. Anything that helped make Testament Creek a good place was welcome as far as Prudence was concerned. "We're still waiting for a reply to Grace's telegram. She's hoping the local judges will get involved."

  "Largo and Brady won't be running this place for much longer," Cal said with obvious satisfaction in his voice. "We still need to try and put a stop to all this troublemaking."

  "Maybe Grace will find out something we can use against Largo," Prudence suggested.

  "I hope so," Cal agreed. He gazed at her and reached out, curling his fingers across her gloved hand. "I was worried about you, last night."

  Prudence felt her face flush with heat. "You were?"