Gabriel's Law

by Pierson, Cheryl

  She smiled, a shiver of delight sliding through her as his teeth nipped gently at the skin at her nape. "Over pancakes?" she asked innocently.

  "Huh-uh. Over sleeping with me… Marrying me… Other things…"

  She laughed, setting down the bowl and turning to face him. His arms tightened, pulling her close against his solid bare chest. "Sleeping with you, and…the other…yes. But I don't think you were quite that excited about marriage." Her smile faded at his serious look. "Were you?"

  He leaned forward, putting his mouth over hers in a gentle kiss. "Yes," he said firmly. "Don't doubt it, Allie. Don't doubt me."

  She put her tongue out, as he drew away, tasting him on her lips. At his slow smile, heat rushed to her face, but she couldn't hold back her answering grin. "I don't."

  * * * * *

  After breakfast, Doc motioned Brandon to the bedroom where he and Owen examined him one last time before leaving for Spring Branch. The boys had all gone to the barn to care for the livestock and become familiar with the chores that would be expected of them here.

  At last, when the healing whip furrows and the bullet wound had been cleaned and the shallow knife gash examined, Brandon put out his right hand for Doc to unwrap. Doc's eyes met his in a brief, searching gaze, and then he carefully began to remove the bandaging. Owen stood by, his face impassive as Doc reached the last two wrappings. He unfurled them, dropping the bloody bandage to the floor.

  Allie stepped inside the door, closing it behind her.

  "Don't flex it," Doc warned.

  Brandon grimaced. "I wouldn't dream of it, Doc."

  Doc adjusted his glasses, peering closely at the damage Smith's men had inflicted. His brows knit and he cocked his head, turning Brandon's hand this way and that. "Mmm…"

  Brandon sighed with impatience. "Are you gonna tell me what the hell you're thinkin' or just—"

  Doc smiled at Brandon's frustrated tone and stepped back, releasing his wrist. "It's looking good, son. I think you're going to heal just fine, but you won't be able to use it for awhile."

  "That's not gonna work."

  "Why not?"

  "Too much to be done, Doc." Brandon shook his head. The hand felt pretty good. Maybe—

  "I know what you're thinking and you can forget it. Ruining your hand won't help anyone in the long run."

  Brandon shot him a look. Damn it. "So what is it you suggest I do, Doc? Sit around and watch the cattle mill, stampede, starve…" He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice. Useless. That's what he was right now. So much work to be done and no way he could do anything to lighten Allie's burden.

  Wasn't that what a husband was supposed to do? He wasn't sure how he could help her, or protect her, when it came right down to it. Arnie Smith was out there. He'd be coming soon. If not him, then some of his men. He couldn't sit by and do nothing while his hand mended.

  Doc laid a palm on his arm. "Don't push this, Brandon. Using it can damage it permanently. You don't want that." His eyes held Brandon's for an instant. The risk of losing the use of his hand meant everything. Life or death. They both knew it.

  Brandon nodded. "No. I'll take it easy, Doc." He glanced away. "What, exactly, can I do?"

  Doc let out a relieved sigh and began to gather the salves, bandages, and medical implements he'd used earlier, putting them back into his bag. "Supervise, mostly."

  Brandon gave a mirthless chuckle.

  Owen stepped forward. "If I may – perhaps I could be of some help."

  Doc gave him a sideways glance. "How's that?"

  Owen's lips quirked. "I don't know much about cattle wrangling, but I might be of some assistance – at least until things have settled a bit more here with the boys…" His voice trailed off as Brandon raised his head. Doc turned quickly.

  "Owen—"

  He held up his hands at Doc's skeptical tone. "Now, just hear me out, Marcus. It would save you from having to ride out and see about Brandon, here, and I could learn what I need to know about living on a ranch. I'll stay a few days, earn my keep, and then I'll come on into town and you can introduce me as some fancy specialist from back east, come to learn from you!" Clearly excited, he laughed and rubbed his hands together at the thought.

  Brandon grinned.

  "What do you say, Brandon?"

  He shook his head. "Don't put me in the middle, Owen. I – we could use the help, but I can see Doc is a tough opponent. I'm not sure I want to take him on—"

  "Bah!" Doc flapped his hands in mock disgust. "It's a good idea, and you know it." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You are going to need help." He raised a brow. "I know you say you won't use that hand, but I know your kind. You'll be wanting to twist a piece of wire around a fencepost, or open a jar lid – things you wouldn't think twice about normally. But Owen, here, will be sure you don't forget." They were silent a moment. Doc snapped his bag shut, and looked around the room slowly. "It'll give me a chance to talk some sense into the rest of Spring Branch too – Arnie Smith, in particular."

  "No." Brandon stood up. "Leave it alone, Doc. I don't want you gettin' hurt."

  "That ain't gonna happen, son."

  "It could." Doc felt his age and station would protect him, but Brandon knew otherwise. Where a man like Arnie Smith was concerned, those things wouldn't matter at all. "I'll settle this my own way," he said quietly. "You're a doctor – and a good one. I'll be damned if I let Smith and his men harm you because of me. Just let it alone for now."

  Allie looked from Brandon to Doc. "He's right, Doc." She looped an arm through Brandon's, and a protective surge shot through him. "There'll be patients to see and tend to, as usual. And Owen will be welcome here for as long as he wants to stay with us."

  "Just a few days," Owen put in quickly.

  Doc was watching Brandon, but Brandon couldn't keep the smile from his lips. The doctor was a tough old cuss, but he was no match for Arnie Smith and Tom Carver. Thinking of it, Brandon couldn't wait for his hand to heal. He had business to attend to. He looked down, knowing the vivid blue eyes, though aged, were capable of seeing right through a man. Doc didn't move for a moment. Then, reluctantly, he nodded.

  "All right," he said slowly. "We'll try it this way for a while – give you time to heal. But I don't believe Smith and his men are going to wait for that. I'm surprised Tom Carver hasn't already made a play for you, personally. He's not one to lay low when it comes to getting what he wants."

  "You and I have different views of laying low. That fire—"

  Doc gave a dismissive wave. "Scare tactics, Brandon. Meant to make you mad enough to spit, so you'll make a mistake."

  "I know. But that was more serious than a 'scare tactic,' Doc. The boys could've been killed."

  Doc's eyes narrowed. "That matters to you, son, but not to Tom. He can't pay up. It's common knowledge that his business is in trouble. He wouldn't be able to part with much cash – the cash they used to pay you. This is his part of the deal, I imagine – services instead of the cash. You can rest assured, he was as much behind that plan of theirs as Arnie Smith was."

  That would figure. It explained the triumphant light in Carver's eyes and his zeal with the whip. He was after his own payoff – probably a bigger stake of the money than he'd put down originally.

  "I'll be on my way then," Doc said matter-of-factly. "Oh, Owen, I'll leave this small medical bag with you. You might not have brought everything you need with you from Boston." He slanted a look at Brandon. "Seems we're going to be kept busier than usual, from here on out."

  Brandon gave him a quick grin. "Things'll settle down soon. I'll have Allie to keep me out of trouble."

  Doc snorted. "With all these youngsters you've taken on, Owen and I will have our hands full, I think. We haven't had this many young boys in Spring Branch as long as I can remember."

  Allie's fingers tightened around Brandon's arm. He didn't look at her. He knew her doubts would remain hidden from Doc and Owen Morris – but never from him. He'd talk to her later, when
they were alone. It was a terrible thing to feel so solitary in a dream. This was something Allie had planned and saved for, dreamed and schemed. She wanted it so badly – how could he not catch her enthusiasm for the plan she'd held so dear to her heart for so long? Now that it was happening, he wanted to share it with her. But he couldn't do much to participate – not until he healed.

  "They're in good hands, here." Owen opened the bedroom door for Doc as he took the medical bag from him with a solemn wink. "Thanks for leaving this – I have most everything you have, but I may run out."

  They made their way to the front door that one of the boys had left standing open. Big Mack lay across the threshold, watching the activity in the front yard.

  "Well, I know someone besides Jay who'll be in heaven, with all these boys to play with," Doc said. He bent to examine Big Mack's wounds. "You're gonna be fine, aren't you?" He gave the dog's ears a quick rub, stepping over him to the porch.

  Brandon noticed that Doc's eyes immediately went to the tree line beyond the barn, scanning for danger. Smith's cronies weren't likely to do anything in the daylight hours. They'd wait for darkness. Again.

  Ol' Rooster stood saddled and ready, tied to the front porch rail. Jay was showing the others a drawing in the dirt by the barn. Brandon watched as the boy drew a diagram with a stick.

  "He's showing them how the cattle will be penned," Allie murmured, pride in her voice.

  "He's a smart boy," Doc said. "You've done a good job with him, Allie. I never thought—"

  Allie shot him a glance as he broke off. "I know. I was worried, too. But, he just needed love. It's a miracle, what love can do."

  "Sure worked with him." Doc untied the reins and swung up into the saddle. "I'll ride back out in a couple of days – see how things are going. Do you need any supplies, Allie? I could bring them."

  She laughed, glancing at the boys. "You'll need to take the wagon."

  "I don't mind. Tell me what to bring. I've got a wagon of my own!"

  Allie's smile quickly turned to a frown as her mind worked through what she needed. "Flour, sugar, meal – too much to list."

  "Never mind. I'll just get one of everything."

  Allie gave him a wry grin. "That should hold us for a couple of days. Let me get you some money. I doubt my credit is worth anything at Zach's after what happened."

  Doc waved her off. "We'll settle up later. I'll need to pay him for that Henry. Can't wait to do it, either!" he chortled. "I'll see you in a couple of days." Wheeling the horse around, he rode past the group of boys, stopping to speak to them for a moment before riding on.

  Brandon turned to Owen. "Do you feel like you've bitten off a mouthful, here?"

  Owen grinned. "Not at all. I'm looking forward to this."

  "We'll see how you feel about that once the supplies get here and the fence-building starts. Cows can be pretty ornery at times. It's hard work."

  "I'm no stranger to hard work."

  "I didn't mean that." Brandon nodded at Owen's hands. "You're trained for finer things than fence building. It's rough on your hands."

  Owen held his hands up with an odd, solemn expression. "I've done many things with these… I suppose I'll do fine with cows." There was a warm light in his eyes as he met Brandon's look. "I can do this."

  Chapter 20

  The wire and nails came that very afternoon on a large wagon all the way from Kansas City. Sam and Ben, along with Owen, the driver, and his shotgun rider, unloaded the bales of wire and buckets of nails.

  "Might need some gloves and cutters, too," the driver suggested. "And hammers."

  Allie hadn't thought of those things. She had one small hammer, and she wasn't sure if it had been rescued from the barn before it burned.

  "We'll take all you have," Brandon said, coming to stand beside her.

  "But I—" Allie began. He hadn't even asked how much it cost. And she wasn't sure how much money she had.

  He shot her a quelling glance. "We'll need 'em."

  She looked away.

  The driver spat into the dirt and wiped his mouth. "I got ten pair of gloves and twelve hammers. Four cutters. It'll run you a hunnert and fifty for all that."

  Brandon gave him a steady look. "Don't you mean, 'fifty'?"

  The driver grinned. "I don't usually bargain about these things. They're necessary. If you want to use the wire, that is."

  Brandon took a step closer to the man. "Those cutters are included. One cutter to each bale of wire. We bought eight bales of wire and you only have four cutters. So I figure you won't mind throwing in some of the hammers to make up for that. All of them, in fact. We'll pay for the gloves."

  The grin left the driver's face. "Yeah. Sure. That'll be fine. Fifty even. And you don't say nothing about it to my boss. Wayne here an' me – we're just tryin' to make a little extra money."

  "I'll go get it," Allie murmured, anxious for the men to be on their way. She hurried back inside to her bedroom, rummaging in her bottom dresser drawer. The money was safely stashed in the false bottom of the drawer. She lifted it up and took out the fifty dollars, holding the coins tightly in her hand for an instant before she replaced the false bottom over the rest of her savings – and the money that belonged to Brandon. She stood up and headed for the door.

  It was a lot of money to part with. She'd already wired the payment for the wire and nails, weeks ago. She hadn't counted on having to pay any more. Fifty dollars! But the driver had almost gotten away with his trickery. If Brandon hadn't been there, she wouldn't have known any better. She'd have paid whatever the driver had asked, in her ignorance.

  Allie walked back through the house to the front porch and handed Brandon the money. He jingled the coins thoughtfully for a moment before handing them to the driver. When he glanced into the other man's eyes, the tension stretched between them.

  "We'll be needing more supplies in the future," Brandon said quietly. "Are we going to have any trouble with that?"

  "N-No sir. None at all." The man stepped back, anxious to be away.

  "Good."

  The boys finished unloading the rest of the supplies and the driver climbed up into his seat and took the reins. He slapped them and clucked to the horses. The wagon lurched forward toward the larger town of Woodward, several miles to the east of Spring Branch, to drop off the rest of the merchandise at the mercantile and hardware stores.

  Allie and Brandon watched the wagon lumber down the road and around the bend.

  "Thank you," she said softly.

  He turned to put his arm around her. "We're going to have to be careful with the money to make this work out." He was thoughtful, not looking at her. "Especially now that the barn's gone and has to be rebuilt…"

  She prickled at his words. "You think I haven't been?"

  He shook his head. "No. I didn't say that. I'm glad I was here to keep you from paying too much. That's all."

  "I didn't know about the cutters." Her face burned with embarrassment and she looked down.

  Brandon lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Let me help you, Allie. That's what being married is – helping each other."

  After a moment, she nodded. "I'm not used to having help from anyone." She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat quite suddenly. Brandon skimmed her shoulder with his left hand, a gentle caress. In his touch were things that were impossible to speak; all the regrets for the years without her; the tenuous hope for their future; the dreams that he was a part of now, with her – because of their marriage, and the protection that came with that.

  A piece of Allie's soul ripped apart. The independence she had struggled so hard to hang onto was leaving her. It would take some getting used to, for both of them.

  But it was sweet, too…so sweet, to know she wasn't alone any longer. She didn't have to do it by herself. Brandon was here now, to share the good times as well as the rough days ahead.

  He pulled her to him, and she put her face against his neck, breathing the masculi
ne scent of him. She wanted to drown in his embrace; safe, strong, and reassuring. She finally had someone to lean on, the man she'd loved forever. Her dream was here, alive and real, and holding her as though he'd never let her go.

  She felt dampness on her cheeks, and Brandon's caress had turned comforting.

  "I'll be all right, Allie," he whispered. His hand stroked her neck, settling on her back. He kissed her forehead, and she reached up to smudge away her tears.

  "I'm sorry." It was so ridiculous to be crying, yet she couldn't seem to stop. She was making a fool of herself, but her tears hadn't surprised him at all. And he was whispering in her ear – all the words she'd waited half a lifetime to hear.

  "You aren't alone anymore, Allie. We can do this, together."

  She nodded against him.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Owen give Brandon a wave of understanding as he led the boys toward the end of the cabin to stack the supplies together.

  "About the money," she sniffed. "I've – I've paid for everything; the cattle, and the wire. But the gloves and hammers, and the cutters, I hadn't thought of."

  Brandon chuckled. "That's because those things wouldn't occur to a woman."

  She slanted him a sharp look and he smoothed her hair back from her face. "Now, before you get mad, Allie, think of it in reverse. A man might go buy material and thread, but forget the needles and buttons. It's just the way our minds are different – no more than that." He fell quiet, hesitating, it seemed.

  She moved out of his arms to look into his eyes. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you…the money…well, what I have is yours too."

  He was endearingly awkward as he spoke. It was going to be just as hard for him to give up his independence as it was for her. But knowing they had one another also lifted a weight from her shoulders – one she hadn't realized she was carrying. She wondered if he carried a similar burden that she might be able to lighten.

  "Thank you, Brandon," she whispered, laying a palm to his cheek.

  "We got it all stored up!" Jay exclaimed from behind them. "Over here behind the cabin."