by Rita Hestand
"It's sad, but maybe if you'd have returned and checked on the money, you would have seen what he was doing. Maybe you could go back to your job and pay for it, that way."
"I couldn't do that." Hannah visibly shuddered. "But I'll get the money."
He glanced at Rusty then her, "Well, until you do there's nothing I can do. I've told you this already. The subject is closed. You have till the fifteenth of next month. After that, it's totally out of my hands."
Without a second thought Rusty stood up and glared at the banker. "Well there's something I can do."
Dammit, he had a little of Deke in him, he reckoned for getting himself into something too deep. But he was here now and he saw the problem and darned if he didn't half agree with his brother. The girl had enough gumption to support her father and her brother and no one seemed to be giving her any due for it. It wasn't fair! Someone had to fight for the underdog, and Hannah was definitely the underdog.
Hannah started to open her mouth, but he raised his hand and looked at her. "The name's Rusty Travers and I'm moving my account here, to your bank. I'm also engaged to this lady, so mind how you talk to her."
"Engaged? Travers? Sounds a little familiar but I'm not sure where I've heard of you. I don't see that has anything to do with me."
"I'm sure you don't. But you will, sir, you will." Rusty said and grabbed Hannah's arm and stalked out of the building.
He was totally unaware of holding Hannah's arm until they reached the truck. Why he had gotten so riled he wasn't sure, but if business was done like this, no one would have come west so many years ago.
He didn't notice the heat that seemed to rise between them, nor the frown on her face when she realized he had practically marched her out of the bank and onto the street. He was too keyed up himself.
"Did you have to act like that?" She spat, pulling away from him and starting for the driver's side of the truck. He pushed past her and opened the door, then got in himself.
She stared at him, "That's my truck!"
"Yes ma'am, but I won't be bounced from here to yonder again. Now get in." He demanded in no uncertain terms.
She opened her mouth to protest, but something in his expression stopped her.
Wise woman!
They rode in silence for a long spell before he broke it. Then suddenly he pulled off to the side of the road. He jerked the truck into park and turned to look at her.
"Okay, let's talk."
He saw the frown, lined with disappointment she had been hiding. It nearly broke his heart to have to yell at a woman who'd been so wronged by a bank manager. The cold hard facts about banking was that they dealt in money and that's all there was to it.
"You need a loan; they won't give it to you. I've got the collateral to get that loan. You're problems are over Hannah. They just don't know it yet. That's all."
Hannah seemed to consider his words. He could tell it nagged at her to accept his help. He even understood that kind of pride.
"My troubles might just be beginning." She glanced at him hard.
"I know getting married to a total stranger doesn't appeal to you any more than it does to me, but at least this way, we both win." He questioned. "Now how much do you owe?"
"$97,000 now, the same in six months." She said. Rusty whistled through his teeth.
"Damn!" He countered, pushing his hat back from his face.
"I guess, putting up your cattle is a very hard thing to do. It certainly would be for me. No, if it were me, I'm not sure I'd do it." She stilled a moment. "If you want to pull out of this whole deal, I'll understand." She countered.
"I've got A1 credit, stocks, bonds..."
She shook her head and turned to look away, as though her pride needed a readjustment. "Look, I appreciate what you are saying. Really, I do. But unless you use the collateral you have, it just won't hold water. But I think getting married is going just a little too far. Don't you?"
For some unknown reason, Rusty reached across and pulled her chin around, just in time to see one tear fall against a cheek that was surprisingly soft. He cleared his throat and backed away again, removing his fingers from her chin, that quivered. This woman's behavior had him rattled. She was soft one moment and hard as nails the next.
"You just want to give up, then?" He asked gruffly. She hesitated.
He didn't see this woman giving up anything. She was a fighter, he could feel it.
"No...but I don't see—"
"We'll get married; I'll hang around long enough to make sure things are going okay… A lot of things can go wrong on a ranch, Hannah. I'm sure you know that as well as I do. Things you can't control. There's bad weather, unhealthy stock, and freak disasters. I'm not just marrying you for half the ranch. I have a home to go to. But putting up my stock means getting involved and if I get involved, I want to stick around and make sure everything is going to be okay, too. With two of us trying it will make things easier. I'll have as much to lose or more than you, this way. Besides, I'm really not the bad guy here." Rusty stated, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "I've got the good credit, the collateral, and by golly they will listen up when we are married. Think of the marriage as insurance. With my name your credit will improve and you'll be able to save further disasters down the road. When I'm long gone. You may not know me, like me, or think much of me, but once we are married you will be a Travers, and by golly that's a name to be proud of."
Again she was silent. He felt her resistance and wondered why she was so against marriage. Had someone hurt her? Did she love that Burt fella. None of the answers he conjured made him feel any better.
"Deal?" he asked when she said no more. "Deal." she let out a long held breath. "But," she hesitated and stared him down again. "I hope you realize that this isn't going to be a real marriage. I mean, I'm not..."
"You're setting the terms for that one, lady," he smiled as he started the truck again and headed for her ranch. "The way I see it, that's the least of our worries right now."
Chapter Four
They were nearly home when a strange looking dog ran out in front of the truck and Rusty slammed on the brakes. The dog had been limping, and now lay panting against the cold and lonely stretch of highway.
Rusty got out, slammed his door and went to check on it. Hannah followed him.
"Is he dying?" she asked in a suddenly choked voice.
Rusty rose and looked into big pools of tearful eyes. He couldn't quite believe this woman sometimes, hard as nails, most of the time. He guessed she really did have ranching in the blood.
From the time he was a little scamp he knew that animals were important to maintaining a ranch, all animals. But his love of dogs had been different; he never saw them as working animals, only as pets.
He shook his head, and turned back to the dog, not wanting her to see the admiration in his face. It wouldn't do for her to think he liked her. So he bent to the task of taking care of the dog.
The dog whimpered when Rusty picked him up and placed him in the back of the truck.
Hannah didn't say a word, just got into the truck and waited.
"Where's the closest vet?" He cast her a curious glance.
"Couple of miles down the road on the right. Doc Ferguson usually takes care of my stock."
"Good, just point the way," Rusty said pulling back onto the highway and chancing a look at the distress on Hannah's face.
She held her tears well, but she was shaking and he knew she was about to fall apart on him. Just what he needed. Who'd have thought his hard hearted Hannah would deep down have a heart of mush?
He drove a little faster.
The vet was busy, but when they pulled up with such speed into the drive he ran out to check on them. Rusty eyed the man closely, a short, heavyset man in his fifties with a somber face and a gentle look about him.
"Got a hurt dog, here," Rusty explained.
"A dog you say?" The doc didn't waste any time as Rusty led him to him.
Hannah hu
ng onto the truck bed and stared at the bleeding animal.
"Your dog, Hannah?" the doc asked as he meticulously handled the animal with care.
"No, he was crossing the road."
"Haven't seen this one around. You gonna take care of his bill?" the doc asked Rusty over his thin rimmed glasses.
Rusty nodded.
An hour later the dog was patched. Rusty put him back in the truck and continued on as though nothing had happened. Only something had. Hannah hadn't said a word during that hour. It was as though she'd been holding her breath.
When they reached the ranch Rusty made a bed for the dog in the barn and Hannah carried food scraps and water to him. She tried to act as though the dog's affectionate licks weren't appreciated, but Rusty saw the gleam in her eyes.
"Gonna keep him?" Rusty asked eyeing her closely.
"I don't know," Hannah answered, as she cradled the dog's head. "You paid his bill. The way I see it, he's yours."
Rusty considered her words. "Okay, but he'll have to stay here, at your ranch."
He noticed that calling it 'her' ranch lifted her shoulders some and made her almost smile again. "I guess, for a while, is alright. His owner might show up. If he has an owner. He's a real mutt." She absently scratched behind the dog's ears, and the dog's tail began to thump.
"Mutt's make the best pets," Rusty laughed. "Pet?"
"Sure, haven't you had a pet before?" He teased. "No." Hannah's face pinked. "I mean...not really a pet."
"Why not?"
"Animals are for work on a ranch, not for pets."
Hannah explained. "My dad taught me a long time ago there wasn't room on a ranch for pets. Attachments like that just lead to heartache."
"Well, we got ourselves a pet now." He thought about what she said and added, "Besides, sometimes life is worth a few heartaches."
Hannah smiled again, and Rusty found himself warming to that smile for he knew it was sincere.
He pulled her up, and for a split second their eyes met and held. Some strange feeling flushed through Rusty, but he scoffed at it. It was only compassion...not passion.
He was about to talk to her about the wedding arrangements, when Burt walked up and she turned all her attention to him and the problems he'd brought to her. It seemed to Rusty as though this Burt fella was around a lot, and always with one problem or another.
Rusty felt a pang of regret. For a minute there, he thought he might take a real liking to Hannah. But that wasn't good thinking. No use getting his emotions involved. This would only be a marriage in name. No use even thinking in any other direction. Besides, he knew he'd be measuring her against Jennifer, and frankly the two were not in the same league.
It dawned on him that maybe Burt could help her and he could be on his way. However, she would never be happy with another ranch, that was a done deal. So good ole Burt was gonna have to share his "woman".
Rusty wandered about the ranch most of the day, meeting the boys in the bunkhouse, getting used to the lay of the land. Jose was the oldest and seemed almost eager to show him about and introduce him. Then he met was Cully, Slim and Pete, all veteran ranch hands, and seemed to identify with him immediately. A couple of younger wranglers kept to themselves. Then there were several Mexican hands that Jose had brought to the ranch from the old country. And one big black man. He was bigger than most of them put together, and obviously married to Josey.
He met Josey on several occasions as she went back and forth between the ranch house and the bunk house. Rusty noted the way Josey seemed to "Mama" Hannah, and eyed him suspiciously. If he could gain her trust, Hannah might start listening to him.
"You don't look like you trust me, Josey." Rusty remarked when she stood staring at him from the screen door of the ranch house the next morning.
"Not yet, I don't. I'll have my eye on you, and you better treat Miss Hannah right, or you'll have me to answer to, understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." Rusty tipped his hat to the woman and headed out to the pasture. It was a cold gray morning, the kind that made a man want to stay in bed and snuggle into the covers. But those days were gone. He was a man now and responsibilities had him facing the world head on even Hannah.
It seemed Josey was hanging about a lot. He was sure Hannah was reluctant to be alone with him, and Josey knew it. Maybe in Hannah's shoes, he'd feel the same way.
As evening grew near and he found himself restless and displaced. He'd managed a full day's work, what with feeding the bulls and poor stock, and checking the watering holes for ice. Jose and Cully riding alongside him most of the day, pointing out the lay of the land. He didn't belong here even though the boys in the bunkhouse did everything to make him feel at home. They soon recognized he was an experienced rancher. Rusty thought about the men and how most of them seemed to respond to his light instructions upon one or two occasions throughout the day. No one balked. One thing a real cowboy recognized was experience. And Rusty was full of experience, thanks to Deke.
The next day was the same. He broke sweat that day even though the temperature only climbed to the low 30's, wrangling strays out of brambles, mustering the cattle together, and checking fence lines. He missed the trees, there just weren't many here and what little there were seem scrawny.
Rusty knew he hadn't been completely accepted yet. He wondered if Burt had anything to do with that. It was obvious that Rusty had taken Burt's position, a fact that Burt didn't cotton to. Not that Rusty blamed the man entirely, but if he really cared so much for Hannah surely he'd see it was for her own good.
"Supper's ready," Hannah said in a husky voice as she found him in the barn a few evenings later. He'd been taking his meals in the bunkhouse and waiting till Hannah retired to go in the house. This day was especially cold and Rusty hankered for home and hearth. He was in the middle of feeling sorry for himself, cleaning a stall as the evening dust settled.
He'd never been homesick in his life, till now. But the feeling of not really belonging ate at him.
"Thanks, I'm a little hungry," he grinned, surprised to know he was actually invited to the ranch house to eat. He didn't mind eating in the bunkhouse, Josey was a great cook, but with Burt's ever prying eyes pinned on him most of the time, he didn't look forward to it. Usually Cully and Jose would get him involved in a poker game but he wasn't in the mood this evening.
"You've done a full day's work." She smiled again, and damned if Rusty's inside's didn't heat up. Whoa boy, this one wasn't his type and there was no reason to even think along those lines.
They walked in silence to the house. Rusty pondered that quick flash of reaction, a then doused it, as just a tired cowboy, lonesome for home.
It startled him to find no one at the table but himself and her. He wondered if she ate alone every night. Not even Josey joined her. He wondered at that. Hannah was such a puzzle, not like any woman he'd known. Of course the only woman he'd really known much of was Jennifer and she was not solitary in anything she did.
"Hope you like Chicken Fried Steak and gravy." She said serving him moments later as though it were a natural thing to do.
"Yes ma'am. I was just wondering why Ms. Josey doesn't join you in the evenings."
"Josey lives in a small house down by the creek. It used to be a line shack, but we don't use it anymore."
"I see."
Rusty marveled at how Hannah had worked right alongside him most of the day, not once counter- minding his orders, and now, she had fixed supper for him. The woman was a worker, and a mystery.
"This sure looks good." Rusty licked his lips and glanced at the Texas size steak and smooth cream gravy she served up.
She seemed to note the action and blushed. Either Hannah didn't get many compliments, or she was downright shy about them, Rusty decided. Well, she'd get a few from him, if this kind of cooking continued. One thing any cowboy appreciated was a good meal.
She'd combed her hair, but she still wore the old clothes and he couldn't keep his mouth closed about it. Most of
the females he knew were constantly primping, so what was her problem? Even if they didn't wear dresses, most of them wore tight fitting jeans, and well fitted t-shirts. Not Hannah though.
She noticed the way he kept staring at her attire and reddened, then hastened to explain. "I'm a rancher, we don't have time for frills around here."
"Yes ma'am." Minutes passed without a word of conversation between them. Then he opened his mouth and put his foot in it.
"But you do dress up on occasion I take it." He didn't look at her.
She glanced down at herself and shrugged. She didn't even look at him when she spoke. "Not very often. This is a working ranch, Mr. Travers, not a dude ranch. And what I wear has nothing to do with you."
"Call me Rusty, ma'am, and yes ma'am, I can see that. Guess I'm just not used to too many ranching women."
Still even his sister-in-laws wore dresses every now and then.
He wondered if she'd even wear a dress when they were married.
That thought woke him up. What was he doing wondering about her state of dress? She was nothing to him. It didn't matter if she wanted to wear overalls to her wedding, he wouldn't say a word. This was not going to be a match made in heaven and he knew better than to go there. But the curiosity that her clothes caused him great distress made him uncomfortable. It was just a little hard thinking of her as a cowboy and not a woman. After all, she had beautiful hands and fingernails, always clean and polished. She had the fullest, deepest pink lips he had ever seen, and his imagination wandered there too often to count.
"I think we should talk about the wedding, don't you?" He asked as he finished off the steak and potatoes with a satisfied sigh. He wasn't in any more a mood to talk about the wedding than she but once things were settled maybe they could both relax a little.
"I guess so—" Enthusiastic she wasn't!
"Have you ever been married?" he asked as casually as he could.
"No!" she answered harshly. Then cast him a frown. "Have you?"
"Nope."
He cleared his throat wondering how he was gonna have this conversation without making her just a tad mad. The lady wasn't in the market for a husband that was for sure. That suited him fine, except...most women considered him a pretty good catch. Most women—not Hannah.