Faking a false look of offense, he shot back. “I assure you, Miss Dandelion, it does not.”
Bullshit.
Still oozing warmth and politeness I continued on. “I am so relieved to hear this, Mr. Daggett, as I did not come to borrow your bank’s money but instead to pay for the property outright. In addition, I do not expect to pay one penny over seventy-five dollars for, let’s see, how did you so elegantly put it? A once-upon-a-dream horse ranch?”
Whoa. That got the ol’ sidewinder’s attention. His sneer vanished. “Seventy-five dollars? That’s ridiculous. Why that ranch consists of fifty acres of prime pasture land. Not to mention a creek of the purist water that has never been known to go dry even in the hottest of summers.”
“And yet you called it worthless.”
“Well, I…I…was confused. Had it mixed up with another piece of land. I apologize. I misspoke.”
Pompous jack-ass.
“Quite understandable, Mr. Daggett, as I assume this institution is responsible for numerous properties as it’s the only bank within forty miles of here. Nevertheless, it is a well-known fact the property in question has been vacant for two years with nary a nibble of an offer to buy. In addition, it will require quite a lot of attention, which will strain my pocketbook. I can’t possibly go any higher than seventy-five dollars.”
“And I can’t go any lower than two hundred.”
On the sly I pulled a hundred dollar note from my boot. I called his bluff. “One hundred dollars, Mr. Daggett. Cash money. Take it or leave it.”
His bushy eyebrow twitched. But only for a minute. He stood and offered me his hand.
“Congratulations, Miss Dandelion. You just bought yourself a horse ranch.”
I shook with him.
Papa wasn’t the only one who kissed the Blarney Stone. I would’ve paid three hundred.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Signed deed in hand, I walked calm until I was out of eyesight from the bank then ran full bore to the White Dove. The sight of Cinnamon being carried down the street in the arms of the biggest, blackest man I’d ever seen stopped me dead in my tracks.
Unable to open the back door of the Dove with Cinnamon and all her fluffy petticoats in his arms, the giant banged the wood door with a boot large enough to sail the Mississippi in. I rushed past and swung the door open. Fancy, just a few steps away from answering his knock, backed up with a tiny squeal. Sassy grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out of the way.
“What’s going on here?” Peg asked calm as an afternoon nap. As if seeing Goliath standing in her kitchen was a common, everyday occurrence.
“Now, don’t y’all frets none. The little lady just turned her ankle is all.”
I expected a small twister to come roaring from his mouth and bust all the windows out, but his voice purred velvet smooth like a spoiled ol’ mama cat.
“Bring her into the sitting room,” Peg said. She fluffed the pillows on the settee. “You can put her here.”
Gentle as sitting down a basket of eggs, he eased Cinnamon onto the sofa.
“’Tis nothing, Mama Peg,” Cinnamon said. “Do not worry so.”
Peg was having none of it. “Must be serious if you had to be carried here.”
Cinnamon’s face took on a strange expression. All sappy and tender. Her eyes threw off a funny look too. Helpless like. She smiled up at the large man. “Ah Peg, I told this gentleman not to carry me, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
By this time the rest of the girls crowded into the room. Sassy came from the kitchen with hot water and a washcloth. Steam rose from the pan and dampened Peg’s rouge as she eased Cinnamon’s shoe off and dabbed at her foot.
“It don’t look bad at all. How did this happen?”
“It was my fault, ma’am.” The giant removed his hat and twisted the brim in his grizzly paws. “We was walking toward one another, and she turned her ankle trying to keep from running right smack into me. Everythin’ been all right if’n I’d kept on walking, but I couldn’t.
Ain’t seen no woman so beautiful before. Her beauty froze me to the spot.”
“Mon cher, it was I who was stunned. Never before have I seen a man so magnifque.”
If Sassy’s eyebrow arched any higher, it would’ve jumped right off her face. Debbie Ann twittered. Fancy giggled. Peg grinned like a opossum. What was going on here?
Peg got to her feet. “Name’s Peg Williams. Thank you, Mr…?”
“Inky Hayes, ma’am.”
“You a Buffalo Soldier?” Sassy asked.
It was then I noticed his faded blue cavalry jacket.
“Not anymore, ma’am.”
His gaze traveled the room drinking in the stylish furniture, elegant rugs, and thick curtains. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, I sensed his uneasiness. So did Peg.
“These here are my girls, Mr. Hayes.” She pointed to each one. “Sassy, Debbie Ann, Fancy, Rebecca Sue, and Mary Lou. And of course you already met Cinnamon.”
He flashed a wide grin. “Yes, ’em. I know her all right.”
I swear all of them sighed as one.
“You understand my meaning when I say my girls?”
It’s not easy to see a blush on skin blacker than midnight, but a tinge of dark red traveled up his neck. His gaze never left Peg’s face.
“I do.”
“That bother you, Mr. Inky Hayes?” Sassy asked.
“Ain’t no business of mine. World’s a hard place. Gotta make your way through as best as ya can.”
Peg ushered him to the door. “Thank you again, Mr. Hayes, for your kindness. You’re welcome at the White Dove anytime.”
Judging how fast that dark red color had spread, I’d bet good money Inky Hayes wouldn’t be stepping back into the Dove any time soon. Then again, the grin he shot Cinnamon on his way out and the shy smile she gave in return just might cost me.
The door hadn’t closed all the way shut before Sassy gave Cinnamon a playful punch on the arm. “You can stop pretending now, Little Miss Innocent.”
“He’s a keeper for sure.” Peg chuckled. “I’d throw a loop over him right quick before some other gal snubs him up tight.”
Confused as all get out, I didn’t understand their laughter. After everyone except Cinnamon left the room, I sat beside her. “Your ankle isn’t hurt, is it.”
Long stocking legs swung to the floor. “Only, how you say? A teeny bit?”
“Then why did you let him carry you?”
“Oh Dixcee, you have much to learn in the ways of men.”
What the hell did that mean?
She patted my hand and sighed. “A man needs to feel needed.”
“You’re sweet on him, aren’t you?”
“Oui.”
That quick? “Why? How? I mean you’ve been with…seen…um…met a lot of men. What makes this one so different?”
Little bird shoulders shrugged. “It is not so easy to put into words, cheri. Is true. I’ve had many paramours. This is good. No?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Is good. No man can hide from me. ‘Pull the wool over my eyes’ as you say. Before a man’s kiss dries upon my lips, I know his good. His evil. If he will raise his hand to caress or to slap. I have looked inside this Inky Hayes. His heart is gold. More golden than any before him. It shines only for me. It is no matter what I did before him.”
“Guess it don’t hurt none that he’s a good lookin’ fella either.”
“Frosting on the cake.”
“So you pretended to be hurt so he could rescue you. Kinda like those knights in shining armor. Isn’t that a little deceiving?”
“Oui. But of course. All is fair in love and war, is it not? Do you not feel the same for your man? Your Jackson?”
She hit a sore spot. I changed the subject.
“Does Inky plan to stay here?”
“I cannot say, mon cher. Only hope. I do not wish to see him go.”
An idea popped into my head. I jumpe
d from the sofa. “Thanks for the talk. Didn’t understand most of it. But I gotta git.”
I ignored her shout and ran out the door. I needed to find Inky. Where would he go? The saloon? Something told me no. The Livery? Of course. An ex-horse soldier would take care of his mount before himself. Sure enough I found him in the barn unsaddling the ugliest strawberry roan I’d ever seen.
“I know what you’re thinkin’.” His back was turned from the door. How he could hear my footsteps on the straw-littered floor was beyond me.
“Doubt it.”
He chuckled. “You’s thinkin ol’ Mud here is pitiful looking. I ask ya not to say that out loud. He’s sensitive. He’ll pout.”
This time I chuckled. I walked over and straightened the gelding’s forelock. “Is his name really Mud?”
“Yep.” He patted the horse’s speckled neck. “I found him when he was a little bugger lying in the mud. His mammy just done up and left him to die. My heart damn near bust. Felt so sorry for the little thing.”
“So you raised him up?”
“Best thing I ever done. He’s carried me loyal for many a mile.”
He sounded so much like Jackson talking about Buck my heart flipped-flopped.
“Miss Cinnamon send you?”
“No. I came to offer you a job.”
He turned to me. Astonishment turned ebony eyes round and white. “At the White Dove?”
“Oh. No. Ya don’t understand. I don’t work at the White Dove. I just live there, that’s all. I’m a cook for Big Mike Donovan’s rail crew.”
Astonishment turned to disbelief. He eyed me up and down. “A cook you say?”
“Well sure. Why? Don’t I look like one?”
“You any good?”
I hesitated. “Just fair.”
“What I thought. Sorry about the other. I just assumed since you were at the Dove that you were one on the flock.”
Jackson’s worst fear.
“What sort of job you offering? I don’t cotton much to railroad work.”
“It’s not the railroad.” I dug in my pocket and showed him the deed. “I just bought a horse ranch. Wondered if you might be interested in being my foreman? Before you answer yes or no, I have to warn ya. The place needs a lot work before I can even think about bringing in a herd.”
He leaned against the stall gate and chewed on a hay stem. “Do I look like a ranch hand to you?”
I couldn’t tell right off if he was funning me or not. Decided just to lay my cards on the table and shoot straight.
“You look like an honest, hard-working man. Besides Cinnamon said you’re golden, and that’s good enough for me.”
Damn. I shouldn’t have said that. Cinnamon would skin me alive. But when he broke out into the biggest grin I’d ever seen it didn’t matter.
“She said that?”
“Yeah. But don’t tell her I told ya.”
“Our secret.”
“I think you should see the ranch first before answering me. It’s only a few miles out of town. We could ride out tomorrow afternoon and look at it, if that’ll work for you.” I voiced another thought. “If you had a job, you’d have a reason to stay here.”
“Reckon Miss Cinnamon would like that?
Oui. But of course. “Yeah, pretty sure she would.”
“Then I sees ya tomorrow.”
“Oh. By the way. My name is Dixie. Dixie Dandelion.” It was my turn to study him from head to toe. “You do know how to break horses, don’t ya?”
He pushed his hat back off his head. His look turned serious.
“Well now, Miss Dixie. Let me tells ya what I believe concerning the horse. Ya see those mighty animals ain’t got much but their wild, beautiful spirit. If’n ya break their will all you’re left with is hide and hair. Nope. I don’t break horses. I just bends them a little. It takes a might longer that way. But it’s better on them and me. Makes them loyal to the bone. Plus they get to keep their dignity. Leaves their unspoiled beauty intact.”
At that moment I understood exactly what Cinnamon had been trying to tell me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Missy Dixie no cook for Lin Chow no more?”
It was bittersweet breaking the news about the ranch to Chow Chow. Ever since the shootout at the One-Eyed Jack, the two of us had developed a special bond. I wouldn’t call it a huge friendship, however. More of a mutual respect that only a secret as big as what happened to the bodies could forge. I would miss his sing-song voice. On the other hand I wasn’t going to miss wrestling with flour and dough every morning one bit. Lin Chow’s slanted eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Only hope Missy Dixie better with horse then rolling pin. You tell Big Boss Man?”
“No. I haven’t seen him around lately.”
“Big Boss Man berry busy. All time.”
Sure seemed that way. Sassy said the railroad hired the big Pinkerton detective to keep peace between the town folk and the Chinese. Guess it worked because I never saw any hard feelings between the two. Still I wondered if there was a deeper reason for him being around.
I finished up in the cook tent and went to saddle Joe. Inky and Mud stood waiting for me.
Cinnamon sat behind him in the saddle.
“I hopes you don’t mind me bringing Miss Cinnamon along. I stopped in to check on her this morning. When I told her where we was headed, she said a ride in the country would do her mighty good.”
I struggled to hide my grin. Cinnamon rarely went outside. In fact, her idea of the country was the tree in Peg’s back yard. She also claimed she wouldn’t be caught dead on horseback. Now here she was astride Mud’s wide rump, arms around Inky’s waist holding tight. Too tight for just standing still. Reckon love-fever burns away all thoughts of things ya swore you’d never do.
The early afternoon sun peeked through big, fluffy clouds. and a breeze ticked my face as we jogged along. I listened to the small talk between Inky and Cinnamon. Their voices carried more than a friendly tone. Sometimes coy. Sometimes serious. A small chuckle here. Carefree laughter there. Falling-in-love talk.
Their comfortable, easy way with one another called back memoires of Jackson. I should’ve asked him to stay. Irritated for mooning over him like a new-born calf and tired of hearing Cinnamon’s oohing and cooing, I spurred Joe into a lope.
When we rode through the gate of the old Double D, I studied the place with new eyes. Before the place had belonged to some unknown rancher with hopes and dreams of turning corrals and barns into a thriving, top-notch outfit. Now his dream was mine. Wonder if in some odd way he’d bequeathed his vision to me in a fit of ghostly passion?
“Bequeathed, my arse. I persuaded the ol’ narky to move on. To stop haunting the place. That’ll be my job from now on.”
I heard Papa’s booming laugh. Bet the floors of heaven were shaking.
We tied up at the hitching rail in front of the house. Cinnamon’s waist disappeared in Inky’s big hands when he lifted her from Mud’s back, easy as picking up a bag of goose feathers. If he noticed how firm she stood on that bad ankle of hers, he never let on.
“I will see to the house while Dixcee shows you the barn. Oui? Mon cher?”
I’d wager good money an Oklahoma cyclone would have a hard time knocking Inky to his knees, but Cinnamon’s little French term of endearment melted him like butter in a hot skillet. Sure hoped the stars in his eyes disappeared in time for him to inspect the place.
My nose wrinkled at the smell of moldy hay and sour grain when we stepped into the barn. Cobwebs covered the rafters and waved hauntingly in the easy breeze. It was plain to see nothing but field mice and crawly spiders called the old barn home. Even still, the loft had no holes in the floor when I scampered up the ladder and tested its soundness. Same way with the stalls.
Outside the corrals needed new wood. But the bunkhouse wasn’t falling to pieces like I’d feared after being empty for quite some time. Relief washed over me. All in all the place was in pretty good
shape. Of course I hadn’t seen the main house yet.
Inky took in every detail without saying a word. His face blank as a schoolhouse blackboard. I worried he would turn down the job.
“Miss Dixie? You got yourself a fine little ranch here.”
“Does that mean you’ll take the job?’
“Under one condition.”
My breath caught. Couldn’t imagine what he would ask. “Which is?”
“I need my own place. My own cabin. Bunkhouse won’t do.”
Was that all?
“Well shoot, Inky, that isn’t a problem. But may I ask why?”
I had no idea giants could turn giddy. All shy and skittish. He lowered his gaze to the ground and studied the toe of his boot until I thought it would fall off. He raised his gaze and looked at me square.
“Well, ma’am, I’m fixing on getting hitched.”
Married? To who? He’d only been in Six Shooter two days. Then it dawned on me. I couldn’t help but shout, “To Cinnamon?”
He flinched at my outburst. “Shhh. I ain’t asked her yet.”
“When are you going to ask?”
“Well I don’t really know. I have to work up to poppin’ the question nice and gentle like. A fine lady like her needs to be courted proper.”
I could live to be old as dirt and never hear the words fine lady describe a dove ever again. Deep down Inky was just an ol’ romantic. But something still niggled at me.
“Inky? How? You only saw her for the first time yesterday. How can you fall in love so fast? How do you know she’s the one for you?”
“Miss Dixie, Mama had The Shine. Does you know what that is?”
Oh hell yes. I knew exactly what the Shine was. Grandmother Margaret had the gift of sight. That’s way she was never allowed to step foot in our house. Why she was never welcomed for birthdays or even Christmas dinner. The reason for so many arguments between Mama and Papa. Mama claimed seeing visions was the devil’s work and Grandmother was a banshee witch.
Papa said I had the gift too. But I never saw anything. I did hear voices. All the time. But I never saw haints. Didn’t want to neither. Sometimes I did sense things before they happened, but not often. Truth be known, I never gave The Shine much thought.
The Adventures of Dixie Dandelion Page 10