Ahead, the screen door opened. Myrna stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron. “Well, it’s about…” Her mouth gaped.
“Aye, Myrna, I’m sorry for the delay. I had to visit the sheriff again.” Shaking her head, she waved a hand in the air and then held open the screen for Kell to enter.
“Ma’am.” Kell dipped his chin toward the housekeeper and stepped inside.
Curly wisps of black hair clinging to Myrna’s forehead were dislodged when her eyebrows soared. “Who might that gentleman be?” She tilted her head to watch the tall man walk, a smile plumping her rounded cheeks.
Cursing her own lack of willpower, Vevina watched his swagger for several seconds and then leaned close. “Our paths crossed in town. I liked the fact Mr. Hawksen possesses several skills, and I hired him.” If only that statement didn’t sound so…inadequate.
“No.” Myrna sucked in a quick breath then frowned. “What in the world will Tully say?”
Kell set the crate on the long table in the middle of the room and looked back, an eyebrow raised.
Caught. Vevina lifted her chin and sailed into the room, stripping off her gloves as she approached. “Thank ye, Kell. I’m sure ye can find yer way to the bunkhouse and get settled. Stable yer horse and have a look around the tack room for any horseshoeing equipment. We’ll discuss chores at breakfast tomorrow.” At the use of his first name, Vevina heard Myrna’s disapproving sniff and vowed to stick to his full name when others were near. Of course, they hadn’t known each other long enough to be on familiar terms.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Bernhard.” He took two steps and paused in front of her. “But I’d like to take advantage of the remaining daylight and scout those stones you mentioned.”
“Oh, Vevina, you didn’t.” Myrna tsked-tsked and clasped a hand at the base of her throat.
Irritation flashed at the housekeeper’s scolding tone, and she whirled. “Didn’t what? Find a solution to our problem? I met up with an able-bodied man who looked like he might help and brought him here. Besides, he knows about shoeing horses.” That fact alone had to count. At least, Tully will appreciate the needed skill.
She paced to the counter and back, untying the strings to her bonnet as she ranted. “We both know Sheriff Woodman won’t do a thing about the strange lights. At least, we have proof that he hasn’t so far. Tully’s laid up and can’t ride. Neither Hank nor Curly has noticed anything.” She thrust out a hand toward her bedroom upstairs and fought to speak through a choked throat. “What is a body to do when she can’t get a decent night’s sleep?”
****
If there was one thing he’d learned in his thirty-two years on this Earth, Kell knew to skedaddle when womenfolk got teary eyed. Lifting a finger to the brim of his hat, he ducked his chin. “Ladies.” Kell pivoted and strode toward the open space just beyond the screened door. Escape.
The door slammed open just as he reached for the knob.
“Hey, Mama, I’m hungry.” Timmy skidded to a stop and cocked his head so he could look at the tall man blocking his entrance. He had to clamp a hand on the top of his cap to keep it from falling off. “Oh, hi, Mr. Hawksen. Want to see my dogs now?”
“Make you a deal, little buddy.” He couldn’t help but grin into the upturned face with the eager expression. “I’ll meet your dogs, and you take me to the tack room.”
A gasp sounded. “No, Timmy’s not allowed—”
Kell heard Vevina’s concerned tone and glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll watch out for him, ma’am.”
Pressing her lips together, she nodded and her shoulders dipped.
The moment the two males stepped onto the veranda, they were accosted by a pair of over-excited jumping dogs. Timmy laughed but staggered under the weight of paws that hit his chest and back. Wet tongues slathered any exposed skin.
“Down!” Kell stomped a boot against the wooden planking to get the dogs’ attention and pointed downward. He stared at whichever dog looked his way until they quieted. He held out his upright palm and ordered, “Back.” Twice, he had to repeat the command at the same time he leaned toward the animal, but they retreated enough to give the tyke a couple feet of space.
From the scent of lilac water wafting his way, Kell knew Vevina stood at the doorway and observed his actions. He hoped disciplining the dogs wasn’t overstepping his duties. Judging by what he’d seen on their arrival, upkeep of the fencing and buildings had been a bit neglected in recent months. Habits from his Norwegian upbringing were well-ingrained, and he knew the importance of pitching in where needed and keeping things in order. As long as he worked for this ranch’s brand, that’s what he aimed to do. “See, Timmy. The dogs need to know who’s the boss.” He walked down the side steps toward the distant barn.
“I’m the boss of them? Really?” He skipped and ran to keep up.
“Sure you are. You can talk and give the commands, right?” Kell kept sight of the dogs from the corner of his eye, alert to the first sign of chasing behavior. This breed of dog was used to herd sheep and cattle and probably had tried to do so with the small boy. At the open barn doors, he stopped and turned. “Timmy, hold out your hand like I did at the house and tell Bandit and Scout to stay. Use a firm, er, a big voice.”
Wide blue eyes blinked twice, and then the boy hitched up his pants and faced the pair of panting dogs. He puffed out his chest, held up his right hand, and repeated the command as he stared at each dog.
Both dogs sat on their haunches and watched, tongues lolling.
“Well done.” The little guy was a fast learner. “Now come inside, and don’t look back. Trust that they will stay.” Kell nodded and, as he entered the barn, he let the boy’s torrent of questions pour over him as he gazed at the rows of stalls, assessing the status of the ranch’s operations. He inhaled and smelled clean straw, warm horseflesh, and dusty air.
The horses who hung their heads over the stall doors looked well cared for. A lead rope was looped on a nail near each one’s head. As was a leather thong from which dangled a stone with a hole in the center. Never seen the likes of those. At the back of the barn stood a row of wooden stands loaded with a variety of saddles.
“Here, Mr. Hawksen.”
“What’s that?” Kell turned toward the insistent high-pitched voice and spotted Timmy standing several feet away at the tack room door.
“I said, here’s the room you wanted to see.” He pointed toward the dim interior, and then clasped his hands at his back.
“It sure is, Timmy.” As he walked by, he ruffled the boy’s hair. The softness beneath his fingers brought a lump to his throat. The questions, the eager expression, tagging along at his heels—all of these reminded him of his younger sisters, Guri and Norna. How he wished he’d shown more patience with their natural inquisitiveness when he had the chance. But life didn’t often offer second chances.
Pulling his thoughts back to the present, Kell surveyed the workbench for tools and spotted several pieces of harness or a halter in various stages of repair. He glanced over his shoulder. “Come here, little buddy.”
“Can I really?” Timmy leaned in his head and gazed around the room.
“As long as you ask me before touching anything.”
The boy’s eyes were wide as tea saucers as he looked at the tools hanging from nails above the workbench and the stack of leather scraps on a wooden trunk in the corner.
Remembering the naming game Vevina had played on the ride, Kell picked up a tack hammer. “What’s this?”
A tiny shoulder shrugged. “A hammer?”
“Right.” Kell grabbed a regular hammer and held them both together. “The big one is for nails you pound into a fence post or the side of a barn. The little one is for tapping nails to hold on horse’s shoes.”
A small hand covered Timmy’s mouth and his shoulders shook. “Horses don’t wear shoes.”
Surprise made him drop his hands to his sides. This kid had lived at Shady Oaks all his life and he didn’t know this b
asic fact? Why the hell hadn’t his father taught him about ranch life?
Two male voices grew louder as they approached.
“What in tarnation got into them dogs?”
“Never did see them just sitting like that.”
Kell set down the hammers and turned toward the door, ready to face the initial suspicion that always occurred when he hired on in a new position.
“What are you looking for?” The taller man leaned against the door frame, chewing on a long piece of straw, and his eyes narrowed.
“Found the tack hammer, and I’ve got my own hoof knives. But I didn’t find a big rasp or the sharpening stone.” He waved at hand toward the work table. “I’ll be needing those tomorrow.”
“Sounds like you know your business.” Hank pushed off from the door and rocked on his heels, hands jammed into his back pockets. “How was it you ran into Mrs. B. in Dorado?”
The suspicious note in the older man’s voice didn’t escape Kell’s notice, but he let it slip past. “We both had business at the sheriff’s office.”
Shaking his head, Hank scraped a hand over his chin. “A wasted visit that probably was.”
Although he shared that opinion, Kell remained silent. He needed to take the measure of these men before he expressed opinions that might be later held against him. “The tools?”
“In that trunk.” He jerked his chin toward the far corner.
“Obliged. Can you tell me which of the horses needs the most immediate care?” Might as well keep these guys talking.
Curly dragged off his hat and scratched a hand through his wiry reddish hair. “That’d be Bluebonnet at the near end, south side. She’s got a split front hoof, and we can’t get it tended right.” He winced at the sharp jab in his ribs from Hank’s elbow. “Well, we haven’t.” He settled the hat back on his head and gave a quick nod. “Appreciate you lookin’ at her first.” As he turned, he mumbled, “She’s my favorite.”
A man with a soft spot for an ailing horse rated high in Kell’s estimation. “Sure thing.” With a hand pressed on the boy’s shoulder, Kell steered Timmy from the room then followed them a few paces down the barn. “Can you point out the direction to the fairy stones?”
As if hit with a bucket of cold water, both cowhands froze mid-stride, a foot hanging in mid-air. Hank was the first to recover and turned, bracing his boots at shoulder width in the hard-packed dirt floor and hooking his thumbs in his pants’ waistband. “Why you askin’?”
With subtle moves, Kell imitated the other man’s pose, knowing he needed to stand his ground. “Just following the boss lady’s orders.” Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Timmy copying the same posture. His gut clenched. Uh oh, could he deal with hero worship?
Scowling, Curly back-tracked a few steps and jammed his fists on his hips. “You heard about the nasty business at them stones, right? That the boss, old Bernhard I mean, died there.”
“I heard.” Kell held his gaze on one man for three heartbeats before shifting to the other. “The missus gave me a few details. Sounds more like he got bit by a rattlesnake.”
“Maybe.” Hank held his gaze and then shrugged before turning. “Maybe not.”
****
Two hours later, forks clunked onto empty crockery plates and the serving bowls down the middle of the table were mostly empty. Vevina knew the hands bragged about Myrna’s cooking—one of the reasons Eugen had no trouble hiring on extra workers at calving and branding times. For herself, she was happy never to worry about where the next meal for her son was coming from. The same couldn’t be said about her own early years. My, aren’t I the maudlin one today.
Rising, she glanced around the table. “Who is ready for sweet potato pie with fresh cream?” She counted five smiles and nods from the males. Although she knew this was one of Timmy’s favorite desserts, she’d spotted him waiting until he saw Kell’s nod to give one of his own. A niggle of worry dragged at her thoughts as she crossed the kitchen to the cloth-covered pies. Was Timmy becoming too attached, too soon?
With practiced moves, she sliced and served the custardy pie onto plates that Myrna loaded onto a wooden serving tray. Vevina was happy to support Myrna’s kitchen efforts because she’d worked her share of hours doing meal preparation while living on the family farm. Now that she had a choice, she much preferred working in the garden or doing the never-ending mending needed for her ranch family.
Her decision to hire on Kell had been supported by foreman Tully. After a brief stare-down when he first entered the kitchen, hobbling on his crutches, the foreman settled right into a conversation about horses and hoof care. The responding nod after each of Kell’s answers assured her the foreman was convinced of the new hire’s abilities.
At the table, she made sure the bowl of whipped sweet cream was passed before serving herself. “K-uh, Mr. Hawksen, me compliments on how ye managed the dogs today. I’ve never seen them respond like that.” She turned to her left and smiled at the big man at her side.
Kell was caught in the middle of a bite of pie and swallowed with an audible gulp. “All a matter of letting them know who’s boss.”
“And that’s us people.” Timmy piped up, cream smeared all around his lips. “Just talk big and stare hard.”
Well said, son. Vevina hid a giggle behind her napkin. Over the past six months, that was the exact attitude she’d worked hard to cultivate to avoid being taken advantage of. Here, her son had learned it in a single afternoon. She sipped at her coffee and stole a sidelong glance at the cowboy at her side. At the start of the meal, his hair had been slicked back with water, and she’d gotten her first look at his not-quite handsome, but arresting, face. Strong forehead, high cheek-bones, with wide-set eyes. Seeing his engaging smile made her heart flutter a bit faster. If she let herself, she could learn to rely on this solid man. No. She sat upright. A man will never again rule me. Coffee caught in her windpipe, and she coughed.
A broad hand patted her back. “You all right, ma’am?”
Eyes watering, she nodded and coughed once more into the napkin. The heat from his hand was like the air from an open oven blasting her back.
“Perhaps a few moments of fresh air.” Kell shoved back his chair and leaned close, palming her elbow.
Vevina allowed herself to be pulled upright and walked out through the side door. The chilly October air soothed her heated skin, and she took a full breath. “Thank ye. I believe the coughing fit has passed.”
He stepped to the edge of the veranda, leaving a couple feet of empty space between them. “I rode out to the stones before supper.”
“Oh?” Curiosity made her want to move closer, but she acknowledged the need to maintain a distance, for propriety’s sake, and stayed still. “Did ye find anything?”
Kell slipped his hands into his back pockets and gazed at the night sky. “Enough to raise my suspicion. Someone has been digging around.”
So, I did see lights that night. Vevina imitated his pose and tilted back her head. But that confirmation didn’t reveal if the culprits were fairies or men. “Be there open holes for the animals to step in? Should I be cautious of injury?”
“Nah, just small mounds of disturbed dirt.” Still focused toward the sky, he rocked back on his heels. “Might not have noticed if I didn’t know what to look for.”
Now what? Her suspicions were true so... “What will you do?”
“I intend to camp out there until the lights reappear.” He turned and leaned a shoulder on a porch post. “Found a good lookout spot in nearby rocks.”
“Oh, Kell”—she glanced over her shoulder at those still around the kitchen table, frowned, and lowered her voice—“I didn’t hire ye…um, I don’t expect ye to sleep in the open.”
“Pepper and I are wanderers and have spent plenty of nights under the stars. We’re used to those conditions.” Crossing his arms, Kell shook his head. “No need for you to worry none. Soon as I learn more, I’ll inform you.”
“Well, if yer su
re…” The man couldn’t possibly know how his confident voice cajoled her solitary heart.
He squared off opposite her, his brows low over an intense gaze. “You hired me to check into this matter. I know we haven’t known one another long, but I’m a man who keeps his promises. And I aim to protect you.”
If only those words didn’t send such a traitorous thrill through her entire body.
Chapter Four
Sunlight shone with a peek-a-boo light through the tree’s shiny thin leaves, helping Vevina spot the desired pecans. Centering the bushel basket under a laden branch, she wrapped a hand around the coarse bark and shook. Some plopped in the basket but most landed outside, creating a bumpy halo around the container.
“Whee.” Timmy leaped forward, scooped his hands along the ground, and tossed handfuls into the basket.
Vevina bit back a sigh. Winnowing out the leaves and twigs would not be too much extra work. Maybe she’d tote it over to where Tully leaned against a tree they’d already harvested and give him the task. A cool breeze tugged a tendril loose from the bun at the nape of her neck. While she adjusted the hairpins, she glanced at the other workers and knew this impromptu picnic and nut harvest had been a great idea. Over the past three days, she noticed the cowhands were becoming more relaxed around Kell. Now, the three men were using long poles and ladders to work as a team to reach the higher branches.
In such a short time, she’d seen the improvement to her ranch operation created by his presence. On his first full work day, he’d tended all the horses’ hooves. Bluebonnet now wore a cloth boot on her injured hoof that was packed with medicine. The previous night at supper, Kell reported the split was responding to his special salve and should heal in a couple of weeks. Shutters and shelves that had been loose for weeks were now tight and aligned. Squeaky boards on the veranda no longer made noise when walked upon. New handles with smooth grips appeared on the storm cellar, replacing the crude blocks Eugen had fashioned. Granted the improvements were small, but she’d noticed every single one.
Wandering Home (Dorado, Texas Book 1) Page 3