Pa had become nearly crazed when Jimmy died in the war. He’d always been a curmudgeon, but the family had limped along decently enough—until Jimmy died.
They’d been living with the results of Pa’s unending grief ever since.
Kylie knew she’d allowed herself to be manipulated, not just out of Pa’s grief but also out of her own. A big part of her had wanted to fight the South. She’d wanted to avenge Jimmy’s death . . . and then she’d faced the reality of war. By the time she had a real notion of the horror of it, it was too late. After her first battle, she’d decided to confess that she was a woman, even though to do so would reveal that she’d lived all this time camping with and living with men. It would be a disgrace. But before she could confess, she found a way to stay in uniform but avoid battle. So she’d stayed in and served out the duration. She’d found some satisfaction in her work as a spy. She’d endured two years of it before the fighting ended.
The three sisters had been sent in different directions. And now here they were, still living a lie. Until yesterday.
Kylie felt like she’d been born again. She had a chance at a new life and she was taking it. She thought of that awful moment last night when she thought a man had watched her from the dark woods. She had to get out of here before she started jumping at every shadow she got near.
Part of her determination to start a new life included her skirts and admitting she was a woman. She suspected her sisters weren’t going to be happy about it.
Once they got Shannon inside, Kylie ran back to fetch her dress and return to decency. Shannon changed into dry things while Bailey shed her wet clothes and sat at the kitchen table, wrapped in one of Shannon’s blankets. With her clothes drying by a fire Bailey had quickly built, Shannon warmed up coffee. The three of them sat at the table in silence. Shannon and Kylie regaining their strength. Bailey pouring coffee and generally taking care of all of them like she usually did.
Shannon lifted a steaming cup of coffee to her lips, her hands mostly steady, and took a sip. “Did either of you see if my sheep made it to shore?”
Bailey snorted. “You and those stupid sheep.”
“That sheep saved my life. I love them now more than ever.” Shannon didn’t take offense—she’d heard it all before—but neither would she ever part with her fluffy friends.
Bailey noticed what Kylie was wearing. “What are you doing in that dress?”
“Here’s something you’re not going to like.” Kylie saw no way out of warning them, although she wasn’t one to face trouble if she could possibly sneak her way out of it.
“He found out you aren’t a man?” Bailey erupted from her chair. “How many times have I told you to keep your men’s clothes on, no matter what?”
Kylie didn’t share how she’d met Aaron the first time, the leaky roof, the soaking wet dress, the tears.
“I saw him sitting on my porch when I came in. I hung back in the woods until it was dusk. I was dressed right and proper in my britches. He figured it out anyway.”
Of course he’d been looking for a woman, so that might have helped him along on his way to pulling off her hat.
“And I haven’t told you about Gage Coulter yet.” Kylie was surprised to find she was enjoying outraging her bossy big sister.
“Heard of him,” Shannon said. She did very little talking; probably a near drowning had worn her clean out. “King of the cattlemen out here, it’s said.”
Bailey snorted. “For now.”
Kylie arched a brow at her sister. “You planning on taking over that title, Bailey?”
“I might.” Bailey pulled her cup closer, and a look of ruthless ambition crossed her face.
Kylie shook her head. “You worry me. Back to . . .” Kylie stumbled when she almost said Aaron. She didn’t want her sisters getting the wrong idea about her and Aaron Masterson. “Back to the land agent. He’s changing my homestead claim over to one not claiming the exemption.”
Saying it out loud made Kylie nearly sick when she thought of spending five whole years out here. She’d already done six months. They’d come out before winter had fallen last year. She’d ticked off six months and seen two and a half more years stretching before her. It had been a length of time she’d been determined to endure. She could do it. Stay in this place for thirty more months, then sell the land to Pa, give him his wish, her part in building his empire in honor of Jimmy, and in exchange for enough money to move away. But now to add two more years?
She couldn’t stand for it.
But how to make a life for herself elsewhere? She’d made no secret of the fact that she intended to sell her land the moment she had clear title. And besides, she’d earned that exemption. She’d served her time honorably.
“What about us?” Bailey asked. “Did you tell him that Shannon and I are women?”
“Kylie wouldn’t do that,” Shannon said in her motherly chiding voice.
“No I didn’t.” Then Kylie felt like she had to add one more worry. “Gage Coulter knows I’m a woman, too.”
Both her sisters narrowed their eyes at her.
“He called me a nester. He’ll think the same of you, whether you’re men or women. And he hinted that he might be willing to . . . to marry me to get my claim.”
Both her sisters slammed their cups down with a loud click.
“Marry you?” Bailey said. “How’re you going to keep him from finding out we’re women if you ask us to be bridesmaids in your wedding?”
“You, married to a rancher.” Shannon started laughing. Her blue eyes flashed, and pretty dimples popped out on her cheeks. How could anyone believe she was a man? “A big old land baron who’s never leaving his land. You’d be trapped out here for good.”
Shannon laughed so hard, Kylie wanted to smack her.
“Better than you being married to a rancher.” Bailey rolled her eyes at Shannon. “You and those lousy sheep. Any rancher worth his lariat would have a conniption.”
“You’re the one who’d make a rancher’s wife, Bailey,” Kylie said. “Why don’t you marry the cattle king?”
“I’m not getting married.” She tossed the comment off, yet there was a darkness to it that Kylie didn’t fully understand.
Something had happened to Bailey during the war that she’d never talked about, and Kylie had no doubt her big sister would never marry.
“I got mighty tired of taking orders in the Army,” Bailey said. “Mostly orders given by fools who put an infantry soldier’s neck on the line for no good reason. And I’ve had a bellyful of taking orders from Pa. I’m not signing up for a hitch with a husband. I like the way I live, and no man would put up with it.”
The three of them looked at each other in silence for a while. Finally, Kylie said, “So if none of us is willing to distract him by marrying him, what are we going to do?”
7
Aaron looked at Kylie’s paper work and hesitated. To make it honest would be simple. He wouldn’t have to change a word, except for where she’d claimed the service exemption, and he could deny that by striking a line through it.
It wasn’t right. She’d put in her time. She’d fought in the war, and he knew the price a soldier paid. He picked up his pen, then put it down again without making the mark.
She’d written her name down correctly—Kylie—so not an ounce of ink told a lie. He decided he needed to talk to her once more before he denied the exemption. He admitted too that he didn’t mind having an excuse to see her again.
Aaron pulled on his suit coat, put the papers in a leather pouch, and headed out. He met Gage Coulter, who was reaching for the door to the land office.
Chafing at anything that slowed him down, Aaron said, “I’m on my way out. Can this wait?”
“No, it can’t. I want to see the homestead claims on a bunch of nesters I’ve found on my land. I need to find out if their standing is legal and where their property lines are.”
“I’m not going to stand by while you harass legal home
steaders, Coulter. So any help I give you comes with a promise to protect these folks.”
Aaron knew good and well that Coulter was thinking of Kylie. Wait till he saw where the rest of the Wilde family had homesteaded. There was a land rush on and a lot of claims had been staked. The Wildes, though, had homesteaded in roughly a straight line. Except for Kylie, they’d claimed acres with good meadowland and fine water sources. They’d picked very wisely, ignoring heavily wooded stretches, so there were many miles between the properties. But a knowing eye could see that their holdings ended up cornering a big chunk all along the western edge of Coulter’s range.
“I’m not asking you to help me break the law.” Coulter waved a dismissive hand in Aaron’s face in a way that was mighty irritating.
It reminded Aaron that his family had owned one of the largest, most prosperous farms in Virginia not that long ago, and Aaron had learned how to be arrogant at his father’s knee. The war and its aftermath had knocked that out of Aaron, but now here stood Coulter, a man who’d run from war and gotten rich while others died preserving the Union.
And here was Kylie Wilde, and Aaron denying her a service exemption, with Coulter having spent the war years cornering all this western land.
“I want information,” Coulter went on, ignoring how his words affected Aaron, or more likely not caring. “I want to know what I’m up against.”
“Nothing fancy to tell, Coulter. Miss Wilde has a legal claim on that land. It’s about half lake, and most of the rest is mountains.”
“I know my land, Masterson. I don’t need you to tell me that. I want to know the exact boundaries. I want to know what other land is open for homesteading and what parts of it I can buy to stop nesters from encroaching. Now let’s go look at your maps.” Coulter moved toward the door.
With a sudden lack of good sense, Aaron reached out lightning quick and grabbed Coulter’s wrist. “I’m closed. I’ll be back in the office later.” After he’d ridden out to Kylie’s for a talk. “Check back then.”
Coulter wrenched loose and for the first time really looked at Aaron, who added, “It’s too bad someone has to put their hands on you to get your attention. No one’s going to file a homestead claim while I’m locked up, so nothing’s going to change while I’m gone.”
Squaring off in front of Aaron, Coulter glared at him. This wasn’t a man used to hearing no. And on the rare occasion someone had the nerve to tell him no, Coulter wasn’t likely to accept it.
Well, he’d be hearing it today. Then Aaron’s normal good sense warred with his annoyance, especially when that good sense told him nothing Coulter was asking for was illegal or even immoral. A whole lot of Aaron’s irritation was coming straight from the way Coulter had looked at Kylie and said, “Maybe it’s time I took a wife.”
Aaron knew good and well that he could ride out to Kylie’s another time. It wouldn’t change a thing. Without glancing at his pocket watch, he knew it was close to noon. “Come and eat with me, Coulter, or sit and have coffee while I eat.”
Aaron tucked the leather pouch holding Kylie’s papers into his inner suit coat pocket, and they crackled with every move he made. He wished now he’d made those changes before there was a chance of Coulter seeing them. Because if he saw them in their original form, he’d have all he needed to accuse Kylie of fraud and get her thrown off her land. And by law Aaron would have to take Coulter’s side.
“I can listen while I chew, and I can tell you what I know about homesteading boundaries without my papers and maps in front of me.”
Coulter didn’t want to come along. He wanted to get in that office and start buying up range land he considered his. Aaron had a feeling Coulter was going to be mighty unhappy when he saw all the homestead claims dotting his property. The Wildes were by no means the only ones.
Aaron would just as soon have this fight on a full stomach.
Finally, maybe because Aaron held Coulter’s gaze like an equal, or because Coulter knew it was the best offer he was going to get, or because he was just plain hungry, Coulter quit his glaring and turned to walk down the few steps to the street and go with Aaron to Erica’s Diner.
Kylie’s papers rustled with every step Aaron took.
“Why do you persist in tending these smelly sheep, Shannon?” Bailey wrestled one of them toward the pen. They weren’t interested in being herded.
“A sheep saved her life, Bailey.” Kylie had a spring lamb under each arm. She looked down at the one in her right arm, and it looked up and tried to nuzzle her. Kylie didn’t mind them so much, but she drew the line at kissing. “You’re wasting your time trying to talk her out of loving them today.”
They really were cute little things. Stupid and high-smelling, but Kylie understood why a person—her softhearted sister to be exact—might get attached to them.
“You’re always wasting your time, not just today.” Shannon had tamed them too well. They nearly had to be picked up one at a time and carried into the barn, which she did every night. It was only midafternoon, but due to her nearly drowning, Shannon was worn out. Kylie and Bailey had stayed to help with the sheep.
Shannon had changed into dry clothes, and they’d eaten an early dinner Kylie had thrown together. When Bailey had wondered aloud if Shannon shouldn’t leave the sheep out overnight, with the wolves and cougars, Shannon had asked for help getting them penned.
“Ramuel himself saved my life.” Shannon almost dropped the small ewe she had in her arms when she pointed to the white ram Bailey pushed along. The fluffy critter was still dark from its soaking swim.
Kylie looked at the high-and-mighty ram and snorted at its stupid name.
Bailey shoved the stubborn male toward the pen, and he let out a ferocious Baa!—well, ferocious for a sheep. He leapt forward, lashed out his hind legs, and managed to clip Bailey hard on the leg.
“Ouch!” Growling and rubbing her kneecap, Bailey goaded the animal forward, her golden-yellow eyes—a brighter color than Kylie’s—flashing hot with temper. “He’s still a puny thing compared to a normal, respectable animal like a cow or a horse.”
Shannon had seven adult sheep and a few lambs. She knew them all by name, which made Kylie wonder how her sister was ever going to eat them.
“You said he fell in after you pulled him out of a mudhole left from the rainstorm.” Kylie pointed at the mire in a backwater of the fast-moving stream. “Then you fell in trying to grab him and snagged your foot. He saved you, but he’s also the reason you got into that mess in the first place.”
Kylie carried the last of the babies inside. “How do you ever manage this yourself?”
Shannon shrugged. “Mostly they just follow me like little shadows. But they’re stirred up today. Even if they do give me trouble and I have to carry them in, I like doing it. I like having a few moments with each of them.”
Bailey groaned.
“And I sold the wool for quite a bit of money. The market is good enough that I’m going to be able to buy a milk cow.” Shannon sounded smug as she swung the gate.
“Now, cattle make sense.” Bailey came out of the barn last, fastened the door, leaned her arms on the top rail of Shannon’s corral fence, and stood there scowling. “A milk cow’s a good thing to have around. But I can give you a milk cow, Shannon. You don’t have to buy one.”
Bailey had been here since last fall, the same as Shannon and Kylie, but somehow, through hard work, bartering, scooping up a few head here and there when homesteaders quit their claims, rounding up maverick cattle that ran wild in the mountains, and having a nice spring-calf crop, Bailey now owned nearly fifty head of cattle. Add to that, Bailey’s claim was right smack on top of the opening to a narrow-necked canyon, a canyon that opened into a vast grassy pasture Bailey said was over five thousand acres. Bailey’s claim blocked anyone from having access to the canyon, which made it hers.
If Bailey wanted it—and she did—that canyon would soon be teeming with Wilde cattle. Given half a chance, Bailey would soon c
hallenge Gage Coulter for biggest cattleman around.
And a cattle baron’s competitor, who lived disguised as a man, wasn’t about to agree to marrying him, so Kylie gave up on that method of solving their problems with Coulter.
“I want a gentle cow.” Shannon shook her head good-naturedly. “Yours are all longhorns, most of them wild as deer and mean as grizzlies.”
“I’ve got one I can milk.” Bailey always found a way.
“I’ve seen you do it. It’s like milking a tornado.” They all laughed at Shannon’s very apt description. “I appreciate the offer, but one of your cows would gore me before I got a drop of milk out of her.”
“Why don’t you try milking your sheep, then?” Honestly, Bailey had raised sarcasm to an art form.
“I heard tell of a man in town with a little red-and-white jersey cow, who had twin heifer calves. I exchanged a note with him, and he said the second calf is taking all the milk the man planned for his family. I have already arranged to buy that calf as soon as it’s weaned and I’ve raised just a little more money. So I’ll have a young calf I can gentle from the beginning.
“You won’t get any milk out of it for two years.” Bailey pulled her gloves on as she headed for her buckskin mustang with its long black mane and tail. It stood beside Kylie’s gray, both of them staked in the middle of a circle of grass.
They’d come out here in their pa’s covered wagon, pulled by his team of oxen. Bailey had ridden out on her own horse, and before they’d even built their cabins, she’d rounded up half a dozen wild mustangs, broken them to ride, and given her sisters their own mountain-bred ponies.
Tried and True (Wild at Heart Book #1) Page 6