The Rancher and The Bad Girl

by Kira Barcelo

  "Oh, I know he would say the same thing about you, honey," she assured Melanie softly and patted her hand. "And I don't know what you were like before, but the girl I know is also noble and strong. You're a kindhearted person, Melanie. Does… Reeve have to know about the past? Is it going to change anything if he does?"

  "I don't know. I think it would change the way he feels about me." Her voice dropped to almost a breath. "That's not what he thought he was getting when he picked me out of from all those other mail order brides he could have had."

  "That could be true. But maybe you're not giving him enough credit. Consider—consider maybe not telling him. You know, honey, not because he won't love you, but that was a terrible time in your life. Why not forget about the whole thing? Just be a good wife and eventually a good mother? The past is so far away now, way behind you."

  Sweet Mae. She was smiling at her, all the while imploring her to bury the lie. Melanie stared back into those kind, azure eyes, wondering if that was the right thing to do. Even if it was, could she get away with it for the rest of their lives?

  Janie appeared in the doorway, dressed in that wine-colored dress she liked to wear. Her hair was done in long curls that cascaded down from a ponytail behind her.

  "Melanie! I knew I'd find you here!" she called out in that bubbly manner of hers.

  "Oh, that's right. Janie has something she wants to tell you," Mae announced before kissing Melanie's cheek. "I'll be getting back to work. Think about what I said, honey."

  "I will. Thank you, Mae."

  Janie barely waited for Mae to slip through the door before rushing to Melanie's side and hooking her arm through her friend's.

  "I have something very exciting to tell you," she said.

  "Do you? Come, tell me outside," Melanie urged and led the way. "It's getting hot in here. It's a good thing they're waiting for the cooler weather to use this place."

  "I think so, too."

  "What's this exciting news of yours?" Melanie had more than an inkling of what it was. She had already heard some of it at the supper table at home. For Janie's sake, she allowed her to break the news.

  "Arnie and I are going to be married!"

  Melanie had always found Janie to be amazingly childlike for a painted lady, and seeing her now, jumping up and down and waving her hands in the air joyously made her laugh.

  "He proposed to me. Finally, he proposed! Isn't it wonderful, Melanie?"

  "Of course, it's wonderful! I'm so happy for you, Janie—and for him." With no regard whatsoever for what anyone said or thought about her, Melanie hugged her friend tightly. "He's very lucky to have you in his life."

  "Oh, Melanie—" Janie pushed back from the hug but held onto her friend's arms, eyeing her soberly. "You are coming to the wedding, aren't you?"

  "Now you know I wouldn't miss that for the world."

  "Oh! And Olivia, too?"

  "And Olivia, too. And Reeve and Eli and Quentin and Forest. We will all be there to see you on your big day."

  "Oh!" There were tears in the young prostitute's eyes. Or more accurately, the now-former soiled dove. "You are such a great lady. I always knew you were. I'm so happy you're my friend."

  "Well, I'm here for you for whatever you need." Already, Melanie's mind was filling with ideas of what to do for the young woman who had been so happy for her before her own wedding day. "I'm taking it Mae is happy for you, too?"

  "Mae is buying me my dress!" Janie laughed, but then she lowered her voice. "You wouldn't know because you're a lady. You've always been a lady, Melanie, and a good girl. But girls like me—this doesn't usually happen to us. A good man making a decent woman out of you. Usually—well, when I look back at what I've done and then forward, at what my life will be like—"

  There were three women across the way, strolling along the boardwalk, looking on with disapproval.

  Ignoring them, Melanie took Janie's face in her hand. "Listen to me, Janie," she said. "I'm no better than you. And I do know what happens to girls like you. How hard your life has been. How most girls like you don't live very long. And you have been such a dear friend to me. From the very beginning, you accepted me and made me feel welcome here in town. There has always been more to you than what other people see. You deserve this happiness now, just as the person you are."

  There was also someone else looking on, though Melanie had been so preoccupied with her conversation that she almost hadn't noticed. A specter from the past, maybe brought into Garner Falls on the afternoon train, partially hidden by passersby, by the wagons and horses moving along the streets, recognized her and stared like a predator. She saw him like a flash out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned to look more fully, he was gone.

  Her heart froze with fear, though she tried not to let on to her friend.

  * * * * *

  "That's not your property, boys."

  There was a trio of them. There was no telling how long it had been since those three had bathed. They weren't that young, either, though Forest had addressed them pleasantly as 'boys.' All three were late thirties, early forties, with straggly beards and long, stringy oily hair. Until he had taken them by surprise, they'd been gathering a handful of cattle together.

  The pale one, who was losing his hair prematurely, turned on his horse to glare at the intruder. He couldn't stop the fear from reflecting in his eyes.

  Perched on his big, black Mustang sat what was fast becoming a legend in those parts. Though they'd never met him until that day, they knew that dark, brooding figure in that stunning creature's saddle was Forest Parrish.

  In front of him, across the back of the horse's satin ebony neck, was a Winchester rifle. The metal caught a ray of sunlight and glimmered menacingly.

  "They ain't your property, neither," the balding cattle thief snapped.

  "No, you're right. They ain't. They're Mr. Larson's property. This here's the Larson's ranch. I've been waiting for you boys." He picked up his rifle. "You're coming with me. You're under arrest."

  All three men laughed.

  "Hear that, Sam?" the fat one was speaking to the third one. "He's going to arrest us! Like he's the marshal or somethin'."

  "I'm not the marshal. But you're going to wish I was, though." Forest kept his voice level, his tone rather folksy. "I believe you boys have heard of me. Mr. Larson hired me to protect his property, to bring any undesirables trespassing onto his land to justice. Undesirables… that'd be you."

  Without warning, the one named Sam drew his pistol from its holster. He held it in his hand for mere seconds before Forest cocked the rifle and then shot the weapon out of the stunned cattle rustler's hand. The sound frightened the cattle, which all bellowed and started moving in different directions in confusion. The horses nickered nervously, except for that black stallion.

  "Next man who tries that gets his hand blown off," Forest warned. "Now you're coming along peacefully or I'll shoot you. Arrested or dead. Your choice. Three seconds to decide. All the same to me."

  "There's three of us," Sam pointed out. His nervous manner betrayed his bravado. "You can't take us all in by yourself."

  "Sure about that? Seems to me I've taken more than that in. When there's more than I can handle, I just kill until we're even." Shrugging, Forest cocked his weapon again. "Three seconds are up. Been nice chattin' with you boys—"

  Seeing him raise the rifle and aim, Sam held up his hand and shrieked almost girlishly. "Whoa! Stop! We'll come along!"

  "Are you stupid?" the fat one spat at him.

  "That's Forest Parrish, you stupid pig," the balding one told him. "Ain't you ever heard of him? They call him El Diablo Loco. The Crazy Devil."

  "El Diablo Loco? Hm." Smirking, Forest nodded. "Didn't know that. Very flattering. You—Fatty. Off your horse. Now."

  As fast as he could move, the thief stumbled down off his horse. Forest jerked his head at Sam.

  "You, too. Here—" He tossed a section of rope to the overweight one. "Tie Sam's hands.
Then let him walk and you'll take his horse by the reins. Do the same with your other friend."

  Sam looked like he was about to start bawling. "I don't want to go to jail!" he cried.

  "Hey, it's better than dying," Forest said. "You—get down now so he can tie you up. Let's go!"

  Swearing, the balding one took off on his horse. The other two laughed and cheered at his ruse, only stopping when they saw Forest again raise his rifle, one eye closing as he took aim.

  The one on the horse screamed out in pain and fell off his horse. He rolled away, barely escaping being kicked by the poor, spooked creature. He writhed in the dust, his sleeve and left side of his shirt turning crimson.

  The other two looked up at Forest, sufficiently spooked themselves now.

  "Anybody else want to play games with me?" The color seeping out of the other two's faces satisfied him. "Little piece of advice from an old hand like me. Next boy won't be as lucky as him."

  * * * * *

  Even after hearing the news that the trio of thieves—who had confessed to being part of a gang that had robbed a train and a stagecoach—had been apprehended and carted off to jail, Reeve wasn't at ease.

  "What if there are more?" he asked. "I'd rather you stay on for a while. It's like the mice knowing the cat's around. They're more likely to stay away out of fear, if nothing else."

  Forest chuckled at the analogy. He leaned against the mantle, nursing a short, stout glass of whiskey. Reeve sat on one end of the sofa and Melanie on the other, sewing a button back onto one of her husband's shirts. Olivia sat on an armchair closer to the fireplace, working on her own sewing, which at the moment was a curtain for the kitchen.

  "I could do that. I could stay on," he said, looking from Reeve to Olivia, who sharply looked away. "There was a gentleman at the marshal's office. Turns out, he's from the Pinkerton Detective Agency. They want to offer me a job."

  Olivia shook her head. "You are just so sought-after. Aren't you?"

  "Well, yes, ma'am, I suppose I am." He laughed again. "You going to miss me if I leave?"

  "Certainly not. Good riddance!" Her face was set aflame with color from her barely restrained fury, even more when he laughed harder.

  "You know what they call me?" he teased. "El Diablo Loco. Know what that means?"

  "Hm. Let me think about this. Would it be, 'He with the Ego So Big, He's Bursting Out of His Britches?'"

  Reeve smiled into his glass. Melanie feigned great interest in her sewing, but she was tickled with amusement by their banter.

  "No, that means 'Crazy Devil,'" Forest corrected.

  "Is that so? That's not anything to be proud of, Forest Parrish."

  He frowned, realizing she wasn't just being her typically spirited self. Olivia was upset about something. Without another word, she slapped her sewing down into a basket and stormed out of the room. He grinned at Reeve.

  "She wants me. Bad," he drawled.

  "So marry her," Reeve advised.

  "Marry her? Marry that little wildcat? That hellion? Oh—" He nodded at Melanie. "Beg your pardon, ma'am. I know she's your sister and all—"

  Melanie set down her needle. "You know my sister doesn't want to teach. She would much rather be married and have children of her own. She's not getting any younger. And please excuse my bluntness, Forest, but neither are you."

  "Now, Melanie, you know she won't have me. She wants a respectable rancher." Forest's eyebrows arched mockingly and he tapped his hat against his thigh. "If I was looking for a wife, which I'm not. Anyway, if I were with the Pinkerton Agency, I'd be more settled. Better situation for bringing in a wife. I doubt that'd be enough for Miss High and Mighty, though."

  Reeve steered the conversation back to business, leaning forward in his seat. "When would you be starting to work for them?"

  "I haven't said yes to them yet."

  "Oh, well, then consider staying on with us. Are your fees the same or…."

  "The same, Reeve. And I appreciate that. If it's all right with you, I'll stay on until anything changes."

  Standing, Reeve smiled and shook hands with him. "Glad to hear that."

  "Sure. Now would you and Melanie excuse me for a few minutes? I'll be right back," Forrest said, replacing his hat.

  Where had that woman gone off? When he walked outside, Forest had expected to find Olivia sitting on one of the rockers on the porch. That was her favorite spot to sit whenever she had a few minutes of free time. She would bring out a cup of tea with her, or a cup of water, and sit and listen to the birds and the wind rustling through the trees.

  He would often come out and join her. They would talk sometimes. Other times, they would just be quiet and tranquil in each other's presence… like, interestingly, an old married couple. There weren't many people he would do that with, but with Olivia, he could slow down and rest, enjoy time passing with her.

  He saw her in Jimmy's saddle, taking the horse out of the stable. "Olivia!"

  Though he called after her, she refused to stop. Dang stubborn woman.

  Moving quickly, he hurried to the corral and mounted his horse, Eagle. Not wasting any time, he ran after her.

  Or rather, he ran after her sister's horse. From what Forest had heard Olivia had quickly gotten over her fear of horses, unlike Melanie, who'd taken longer to overcome her fear. Riding, for her, had become a new love, and Olivia had taken to it very well.

  "Olivia, I'm calling you, woman! Stop that horse right now!"

  Headstrong, willful, difficult woman! Her sister was crazy if she thought he'd subject himself to a lifetime with her. He was all for teasing and having fun, but there came a point when enough was enough. She was looking to have her bottom bared and soundly spanked.

  He cupped a hand around his mouth, giving her one last chance. "Olivia, last warning!"

  She was pushing that horse so hard, making him run so fast, that Reeve was afraid of Jimmy losing his footing and both of them being injured.

  But as the words were leaving his lips, he saw that she was bringing her sister's horse to a stop. There were tears in her eyes when she climbed down from the saddle.

  "I told you to stop," he growled, also dismounting.

  "Why couldn't you just leave me alone, Parrish?"

  "Because there's something wrong, and I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what it is." Drawing closer to her, he asked her softly, "Did somebody hurt you?"

  "What would that matter to you? Your job here is done. Now you're off to do a job for whoever else hires you. You're only interested in money, anyway. That's all you care about."

  He sighed. "Oh, for Pete's sake—is that what's bothering you?"

  "No. What bothers me is that there were three of them and one of you," she muttered. "You could've been killed."

  "True. I handled them pretty good, though." He pushed her hair away from her face, only to have her smack his hand away. Irritated, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her against him. "Everything in life is dangerous, woman. You don't think Reeve's got danger every single day out there?"

  "You're in more danger than he is. And now you're just going to take off and forget about m-me," Olivia stammered. "And I'll hear that you were killed by some rustlers or hanged by the marshal for killing the wrong man or something."

  What could he say to that? No one, not even his own miserable family, had ever worried or cared about him before. Sighing, he pushed her hair away from her face again. That time, she allowed him to touch her.

  "That wouldn't be any great loss," he said.

  "To me… it would be." Olivia lowered her head and cried softly.

  Forest suppressed a groan. Now what? Thieving, gun-slinging cattle rustlers he could handle. A misbehaving, hardheaded brat, he could handle. But a woman crying? What was he supposed to do? Clumsily, he wiped her at her tears with his hands. "Woman, come on now. Don't do that…."

  He decided he wasn't doing a very good job of comforting her, since she was crying even more. He wrapped his arms a
round her and kissed her head and face. "That's the nature of my work, kitten. That's what I am." He was patient with her. "Any woman who's with me has to understand that. That is—if you want to be with me, honey. You keep telling me you don't. And what's this I hear about you not wanting to teach the little ones?"

  "Oh, Forest…." Olivia broke free from their embrace reluctantly and found a boulder on the side of the road to seat herself. He stood beside her, stepping onto the rock and resting his arm across his thigh.

  "I'm not a teacher. I wish I were. I wish that's what I'd spent my life doing." She stared at her hands, flexing her fingers on her knees.

  "What have you spent your life doing?"

  "Being a whore. A filthy whore."

  He narrowed his eyes at her. "Woman, you know I don't like that kind of talk."

  She looked glumly back at him. "It's the truth."

  "Enough," he growled firmly.

  "You don't seem surprised."

  "I'm not. I saw something that day I met you, but then I thought I could be wrong. Anyway…does Reeve know?"

  "No. He believed Melanie when she told him I was a teacher."

  "Huh." A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

  Olivia gazed at him, seeming less tense. "So… this doesn't change the way you see me?"

  "Are you still whoring now?"

  "No, of course not! You—you rogue!"

  "Hellcat!" Roughly, Forest hauled her to her feet and kissed her possessively. "I still see you as you've always been to me, a beautiful, sweet, strong woman. Prickly and pigheaded, and in need of having your backside paddled when you won't listen. But a good woman, all the same."

  Resolutely, she folded her arms across her chest. "You've spanked me for the last time, Parrish. And—and what am I supposed to do about the school?"