At his elbow, someone cleared their throat. Conner glanced over his shoulder. It was Tom Roland, the banker. He looked back to the store front. Tilly was just disappearing inside. He sighed and turned toward the man. “Hello, Mr. Roland. How are you today?”
“Well now, that will depend a lot on you, son.”
Conner’s insides curled. What could this be about? There was no doubt that Roland held clout in the area, but Conner was nobody. What could Roland want with him? He waited in silence.
“Odds are three to one in your favor.”
That didn’t surprise Conner. He’d beat Sid’s horse several times, and that news was sure to have made its way amongst the gamblers. He didn’t care about the odds. In fact, his dad would skin his hide if he ever heard that Conner had run in a race where bets were being placed. He said nothing.
“Couldn’t hurt for you to just slow up a little. Let Sid take this one. Sure would make several of us happy, and I’m sure there’d be a little something in it for you.”
Conner felt revulsion coil up inside him. He spit on the ground, glanced up at Roland’s fleshy face, and without a word gathered up his mare and stalked off toward the starting line. He didn’t care how powerful the man was; his integrity wasn’t for sale.
At the starting line, he swung into the saddle and stretched his hand out to Sid with a grin.
Sid arched his brows as he clasped his hand. “Someone told me Tom Roland’s got 2,000 dollars ridin’ on this race. And he bet it on me. Now ain’t that strange? He ain’t the only one either. Cox is in town, and word has it he’s been braggin’ about how he’s soon gonna have the money to buy up half the county.”
Conner swallowed hard. Neither man was one to make an enemy of. Still, it went against every fiber of his being to give into bullying. And then there was Tilly. He smiled suddenly, decision made. “Don’t let her tail hit you in the face now.” He bent and patted his mare’s neck affectionately.
Sid laughed good-naturedly. “I’ll be waitin’ for you at the finish line,” he said. But there was worry in his eyes.
Conner knew the feeling.
The gun sounded, and he dug his heels into the horse’s side, leaning forward with practiced ease. He loosened his grip on the reins and let her have her head. The wind slashed past his face. Oh, how he loved the feel of the power rippling beneath him. His mare’s breath puffed out in white clouds as he urged her onward. Heartbeat and hoofbeat pulsed as one.
Sid’s horse lagged a full length behind as they rounded the corner onto Main Street and headed for The Bucket of Blood at the far end. The thud of each hoof against the hard-packed ground felt like a shout of victory! Sid gave it his all. Conner could hear him urging his horse onward.
But when they crossed the line, Conner’s paint was a full stride ahead.
Conner slowed his mare, his breath frosting the air before him as he laughed with the exhilaration of the win. He turned back toward the crowd gathered at the finish line. Tilly’s eyes twinkled as she glanced back and forth between him and Sid. He tossed her a bold wink. Her face reddened and she looked down. A man stepped in front of her, blocking Conner’s view. He scanned the rest of the crowd.
Mrs. Trent was there, her lips pressed together, one hand clutched to her throat. He guessed she was none too happy with him racing.
Ron stood next to her, his arms crossed, an expression on his face that Conner couldn’t quite read. He was staring across the crowd. Conner pulled to a stop and followed Ron’s gaze. Roland. Face red and fleshy jowls flapping as he snapped at the man next to him. A tall, slim man with a handlebar mustache that Conner remembered seeing with William Harpster on the day Mr. Trent had died.
Conner sighed and glanced back at Mrs. Trent, for the first time realizing there might be consequences to others besides himself because of a little horse race, his cursed pride, and the beautiful Tilly Snow.
5
Jason smiled at Gram as he helped her rise from her seat at Sky and Brooke’s table. She raised a shaky hand to his cheek and her faded blue eyes glistened as she spoke. “It is so good to have you home, my boy.”
Jason pulled her into a gentle embrace, knowing she meant more than just his physical presence. It had broken her heart when he had turned his back on the Lord. She had prayed every day that he would return to the loving arms of his Savior and now that he had, Jason knew she prayed for him still.
It was Sunday, and the family had all gathered at Sky and Brooke’s place. Crowded was an understatement in their tiny home, but the fellowship was wonderful. Remembering the long, lonely hours riding herd as the trail boss to Dodge City, Jason felt especially blessed to sit in the company of loved ones.
He dropped a kiss on the top of Gram’s gray hair. “It’s good to be home, Gram. And it’s great to be at peace with Jesus again.”
Gram patted his arm and gripped the handle of her cane more firmly as she tottered toward the sitting room where the others had already gone.
“Come on. Let’s go sit with the others. You won’t be here long, so you better enjoy everyone’s company while you can.”
Jason smiled as he moved slowly beside her. “I won’t be here long?”
“No.” She sounded self-assured. “You’re young, and there is nothing to keep you here now that Marquis has her Jeff.”
“Well, I thought I might stay here and take care of you for a while.”
Gram stopped abruptly and banged her cane forcefully on the wooden floor. “Don’t you dare waste your life on this old woman! I can take care of myself just fine.” Her mouth set into a stubborn line as she narrowed her snapping blue eyes in his direction.
Worry tightened Jason’s chest as he took in Gram leaning heavily on her cane. He wished he could believe her, but it seemed she had weakened even in the last couple of months while he’d been gone. “Well, let’s not worry about that today.”
Gram waved a hand at him as she continued her shuffling gait into the living room. “Today’s as good a day to worry about it as any. Besides, you need a wife, and there is no one in this little town for you.”
Jason decided to bait her. “There’s Julia Nickerson. She’s fine looking.” He winked at Sky, who was seated next to Brooke on the couch. Rachel and Sharyah, Sky’s mother and sister, had insisted that she sit and relax while they cleaned up after the meal.
Sky grinned while Brooke shook her finger at him as though he were a naughty little boy.
Gram, halfway down onto the couch, struggled back up to her feet. Her pallid eyes sparked a darker blue as she looked up at her grandson. “Don’t you even tease this old woman about something like that! I didn’t pour my life into you so you could grow up and marry that heathen Julia Nickerson.” A twinkle jumped into her eyes as she added, “Poor girl.”
Everyone in the room laughed out loud. Julia Nickerson was anything but penniless. Her parents owned half of the businesses in town, and she was just about as spoiled as could be. She’d had her eye on the Jordan boys since they were in grade school. Whenever Jason wanted to get Gram’s goat, he would bring up Julia.
“Julia Nickerson, hmmph,” Gram huffed as she and Jason sat down. “Hand me a section of that newspaper.” When Jason complied, she snapped it open with venom and lifted it to her face, but not before Jason saw the smile she was trying to hide.
Jason eased his legs out in front of him and leaned back, closing his eyes in relaxation. Rachel and Sharyah entered the already crowded room and found seats. Jason listened contentedly to the gentle buzz of conversation around him. Sky and his brother, Rocky, were discussing the arrest they’d made earlier in the week with their father, Sean. Rachel, Sharyah, and Brooke chatted about the latest dress fashions and whether or not Brooke and Sky had decided on baby names yet. And Marquis and Jeff sat in the corner talking and laughing in whispers. Jason smiled…now able, after having recovered from his initial shock, to be happy for his sister. She deserved someone wonderful in her life.
Slowly the buzz of co
nversation became a distant murmur and Jason settled deeper into the cushions, intending to take a nap. But Gram took a sharp breath and started mumbling to herself.
Jason slowly opened his eyes and glanced at her.
She pulled the print closer to her face, read something, and then dropped the paper into her lap, staring out the window for a minute.
Jason had just decided that whatever had caught her interest must not be too important and closed his eyes again when she jabbed him with her elbow.
“I’ve found you the perfect job.”
With a sigh of regret over his foiled afternoon nap, Jason sat up, rubbed his face, and stretched his arms over his head. “What?” he asked on a yawn. “Look here.” She jabbed a gnarled finger at an ad in the paper.
Jason took it from her and read the short blurb she’d indicated.
Spouse deceased. Need ranch manager willing to work for little pay until ranch gets back on its feet.
Contact Nicki Trent of the Hanging T, Farewell Bend, Oregon.
“Farewell Bend? Gram, that’s on the other side of the Cascades.” The paper rustled as he handed it back to her.
Gram patted his arm. “You pray about it, my boy. If God wants you there, He will make a way.”
“What’s on the other side of the Cascades?” Suddenly the whole room was listening to his and Gram’s conversation.
Gram’s voice held a tremor of excitement when she answered, “There is an advertisement for a ranch manager in the paper today. Somewhere near Farewell Bend. I was just telling Jason that I think he should take the job.”
Jason settled back into the cushions, refusing to give up on the prospect of catching a little sleep, yet knowing he was bucking the odds. He spoke with his eyes closed, hoping everyone would get the hint. “I wouldn’t be able to go until the spring thaw, Gram. And by then someone from that side of the mountains will already have the job.”
Jeff, sitting across the room, cleared his throat. “Maybe not.”
Every eye in the room turned on him in question. Jeff glanced at Marquis and put his arm around her protectively before he spoke. “I haven’t even spoken to Marquis about this yet, but late last evening I received a wire from the school in Portland. They want me to personally see to it that a noctograph reaches Prineville, which if I remember correctly is only about thirty miles from Farewell Bend.”
“Jeff?” Marquis laid a hand on his arm. “You have to leave?”
“I’ll try to make the trip as short as possible.” Jeff squeezed her hand.
Jason sat back up and cast a frown at the newspaper in Gram’s lap. “How are you to get there?”
“The Blind School has its own coach. We would head north to pick up the noctograph and the coach in Portland. From there we would head east through the Columbia Gorge, then south through The Dalles and down to Prineville. That way we wouldn’t have to cross any mountain passes. After that, though, you would be on your own.” His face softened and he turned to look at his bride. “I have someone to hurry home to.”
Even though Marquis couldn’t see his face, the two became lost in one another’s presence. Jason, noting his sister’s contented smile as she reached up to trace her fingers across Jeff’s face, felt irritated at their sentimentality.
Jason turned to Gram. “I don’t know, Gram. It says, ‘Willing to work for little pay until the ranch gets back on its feet.’”
Gram laid a gnarled hand on his cheek. “You’re thinking in the flesh, my boy. Since when have you ever needed anything more than a roof over your head and some food in your belly?”
“Yeah,” Sky pitched in helpfully, “I’m sure this ranch at least pays that much. Of course, you might have to live in a cave somewhere and hunt your own food.”
Brooke reached over and playfully smacked Sky’s arm.
Jason grinned at Sky, but his thoughts turned serious. Well, Lord, is this the place you have for me?
There was no answer. But as Jason moved throughout the week, try as he might, he could not take his mind off of the man who had lost his wife and needed someone to help him run his ranch. Every time he opened a newspaper he would see the ad. Whenever Gram looked at him, he could see in her eyes that she thought he should go. Marquis asked him twice if he had made a decision yet. And he even heard some people in the mercantile discussing the advertisement when he went to pick up some sugar for Gram.
Stepping out of the store, he leaned against a post on the boardwalk. Perhaps the Lord did want him there. He’d speak to Jeff and ask when they were leaving. The least he could do was check into the situation. All right Lord, if the job is still open when I get there, I’ll take it. I just hate to leave when Gram seems to be getting old so quickly. Help me to know if I’m doing the right thing.
As he walked into the house and set the sugar on the counter Gram glanced up at him. “You’ve decided to go.” Jason blinked at her.
“I can see the peace on your face, my boy. I’m so glad.” She laid her age-wrinkled hand on his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. You’re making the right decision.”
Jason grinned at her. “How do you do that?”
She did not give the tart reply Jason expected. Instead she turned to look out the window and answered seriously, “When you’ve prayed as much as I have, you will be able to see things—spiritual things—that you miss when you’re not so in tune with God’s Spirit.”
Jason hugged her to him and placed a gentle kiss on her gray curls. “I love you, Gram. You take care of yourself while I’m gone.”
Gram stepped away and went back to her painstaking task of mixing cookie dough. “I can take care of myself just fine, my boy.”
Jason again found himself wishing that were true. He could have taken the bowl from her trembling hands and had the dough mixed in a quarter of the time it had taken her to get this far, but he would not deny her the freedom of fending for herself.
She’d had to be independent from the time her young husband died to this very day. Raising two boys alone—Sean, Sky’s father, and Jack, his own father—and then raising him and Marquis when their parents died. Before he and Marquis came to live with her, she had become sick and had lived with Sean and Rachel for a while. However, as soon as she recuperated, she had moved back to her own home. No, Jason could not deny her independence. But he would speak to Sky, Rocky, Sharyah, and Marquis about doing some things around the place to help her out.
Reaching into the bowl, he stole a pinch of dough with a wink in Gram’s direction. “I better take some while I’m here. Where I’m headed, I might starve to death.”
As he moved from the room to find Jeff and ask when they were leaving, he heard Gram comment contentedly, “Better to starve while doing the Lord’s will than live high on the hog while not.”
Jason smiled.
William, the last member of The Stockman’s Association to arrive, entered the room and seated himself in an empty chair. The gathering of men quieted. The door was securely shut, and the elite group began their discussion in low tones. It wouldn’t do for what they were about to discuss to get around town.
All seven men owned vast ranches and had a lot to lose as more and more little farms and ranches were set up in the area. But this meeting hadn’t been called to discuss the small-timers; it was to discuss a recent horse race and the blatant disregard, utter contempt even, that a certain young man had shown toward an Association member in good standing. Such actions could not be allowed to go unpunished.
“Gentlemen!” Roscoe Cox, the chairman of The Association, pounded his fist on the table they were gathered around. “Let’s get right to it, shall we? Many of you were in Prineville the other day when Conner, who works for the Hanging T, blatantly disregarded the request of Tom Roland to allow Sid Snow the privilege of winning the race. Because of his contempt for our Association, not only did we lose money”—a rumble made its way around the room—”but our authority has come into question! So far we’ve been able to maintain control, but we all
know the potential consequences if we let this act go unpunished.”
“I thought they were gonna be off their property by now anyhow! If we don’t get rid of these small-timers pretty soon, we’re gonna be overrun with them and our cattle won’t have any land to graze on.”
A grumble of agreement circled the table, and all eyes turned to the two men who were supposed to have this situation well in hand by now.
“Thankfully,” Roscoe Cox continued, “Roland has promised to do all he can on his end to prevent that. We all know that he’s helped us keep many of the small-timers out of this area, and I’m sure you are grateful for that. I know I am. However,” his eyes turned fully on Tom, “I believe I speak for all of us, Tom, when I say we are wondering if things are going as well as you claim.”
“Gentlemen,” Tom Roland reassured them, “we’ve had a couple of small problems to take care of since our last meeting, but all is well in hand and we’re back on track. And Conner will be taken care of shortly.”
“What about that situation we discussed at our last meeting?” asked Rod Signet, owner of a ranch of well over 20,000 acres. “Does the man’s wife know anything about our plans? Do you think he spoke to her before—” He glanced around the room at the uneasy faces. “Before his accident?”
William hid a chuckle as several of the men stared downward, fidgeting nervously. At their last meeting the vote had been unanimous that it was time to deal with John Trent, who’d disagreed with their land-grabbing plan of action. The lily-livered yellow-bellies had been prepared to draw straws for the undesirable task, until he had volunteered, much to the relief of everyone.
Yet now there was Nicki, a potential problem if John had spoken to her. All eyes turned toward his end of the table again. William swallowed. It fell to him to keep Nicki out of this. She’d soon be his if he played his cards right.
He leaned forward, tenting his fingers with a smile that he knew would calm even the mother of a kidnapped child. “Gentlemen, she knows nothing, I assure you. The situation is well in control. She will not be a problem. In fact,” he grinned, “soon she will be my wife!”
High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) Page 6