Nate yanked his hat off and slapped his pants with it, stirring up a cloud of dust. “Now just hold on a minute. Neither of you is making any sense.” He pointed at Brooks. “What hanging is she talking about? That how you got that burn on your neck?”
Nodding, Brooks told the men how he’d been stopped by Dengler’s men and strung up and how Miss Langston—though Miss hardly seem to fit her just now—had shot the rope, thus saving him, and chased off the man bent on killing him. He owed her, but he sure as shootin’ wasn’t giving her his ranch.
Nate glanced at Miss Langston, as if verifying Brooks’s story. She nodded, but her reluctance to side with him was evident.
“And what about the cattle?” Nate smacked his hat back on and rested his hands on his hips.
“I never even saw any cattle. I rode straight here from Shoofly. You can ask Doc Brown. I stopped in and talked to him around midmorning. That certainly didn’t leave enough time to rustle cattle and ride clear out here.” He hoped the men believed him, because he’d been looking forward to living in his own home and not drifting anymore.
Jess, a half foot shorter than Nate and less than half his size, scratched the back of his head. “He’s right, you know. Ain’t enough time to ride from town and rustle cattle and still arrive this soon.”
A horse leaned its head over a stall gate and nickered, as if agreeing. Jester nickered back, reminding Brooks that his horse still waited to be unsaddled, but if he couldn’t win these men over to his side, both he and his horse might be leaving. Brooks flashed a smile. He’d learned it was harder for folks to be angry with him if he grinned.
Miss Langston scowled.
Nate turned toward her, his shoulders not quite as stiff as they had been. “I’m sorry, Missy, but the paper this fellow has is for real. I don’t know what got into your uncle to go and gamble this ranch, but he did, and that’s all there is to it.”
She made a derisive sound and frowned. “And what’s going to happen to me? I’ve nowhere else to go.”
Brooks first thought was that she could go anywhere but here, but he’d been raised better than that—and she had saved his life. He glanced past her at the only corner of the house he could see from this angle. Guess he wouldn’t be sleeping there after all. And he had promised Will that he’d watch out for Keri—although she would be a lot more trouble than the dog or horse he’d expected to find. He forced a grin. “You can stay.”
“How generous of you.” She scrunched up her lips, no doubt wanting to say far more, but she nodded her thanks, spun around, and strode out of the barn. How would he ever overcome her hatred of him?
“I’d forgotten what a little spitfire she can be when she gets mad.” Jess chuckled.
Nate pinned him with a glare.
“I—uh—gotta do somethin’ out back.” Jess scurried out of the barn as if someone had lit his pants afire.
Nate turned back to Brooks and stared at him eye to eye. They might be about the same height, but Brooks wasn’t any way near as brawny as the older man. He pursed his lips and blew a loud breath out his nose. “The marshal came by two days ago and explained what all happened—about the ranch and Will.” He glanced away, lips tight, but not before Brooks saw the pain in his eyes. He must have been good friends with Will. “I knew Will was going downhill but sure didn’t know he’d go so fast. I’d hoped Keri would get home to see him again.”
“He didn’t look too good at the end. Maybe it’s better for her to remember him healthy and strong,” Brooks offered.
“Maybe. I wish I’d known she was coming home. I hate that no one was there to meet her train.” He shook his head. “Wonder how she found out about Will.”
Brooks shrugged. “Don’t know, but it must have come as a surprise. Where was she, anyway?”
Nate gazed up at the ceiling. “Will sent her to some ladies’ school in the South somewhere. Missy pitched a royal fit. She didn’t want to go—didn’t want to learn to become a lady, but Will thought she needed to go. She’d been raised up with us three old men. What’d we know about teaching her womanly things?”
No wonder she wore pants and knew how to shoot a rope in half. “What happened to her parents?”
Nate shook his head. “Will never said. He’d already bought this place and was living here with Miss Keri when I hired on. Will hired Jess a year or two after me, and it’s just been the four of us all these years.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I’ll sure miss Will. He was more friend than boss.”
“I hope that’s what I’ll be too.”
Nate just glanced at him, but the expression on his face said, We’ll see.
Brooks lifted his hat, surprised at his desire to win this man’s approval. “The thing is, I don’t have much money. What I had was stolen the night Will—died.” He started to say, “was killed” but Doc had found no hard evidence other than the knowledge that Will wasn’t the kind of man who’d commit suicide, no matter what. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you or Jess.”
Nate nodded. “There’s been times like that before. Long as we’ve got a place to stay and food to eat, we’re content.” Nate narrowed his gaze. “But I do expect you to treat Miss Keri kindly.”
There was more in his statement than was voiced, and Brooks knew it. “I didn’t expect her to be here, but I made Will a promise, and I keep my promises.”
Nate looked deep into Brooks’s eyes, and after a moment, nodded. “You can put your horse in any of the empty stalls, and there’s a spare bed in the bunkhouse. I’ll get your horse some feed.”
“Thanks, Nate. I’d appreciate if you’d fill me in on how things have been handled around here and maybe give me a tour of the land later.”
“I can do that.” Nate turned and took three steps then turned back. “Was that really Saul Dengler’s men that jumped you?”
“That’s what they said. They wanted this ranch. You know any reason why they’d be willing to hang an innocent man just to get this land?” He fingered the rope burn on his neck.
“No, except Dengler is a land-grabbing lout. Probably thought he could buy it from you for far less than it’s worth.” Nate rubbed a hand across his jaw. “We might need to keep an eye out for Missy if he’s decided he wants this land. It wouldn’t surprise me none if they used her to get it.”
Brooks thought of the spirited woman in Theo Kress’s hands, and a shiver charged down his spine. “Right. We’ll have to keep an eye on her.”
“She won’t like it, and without Will here to keep her in line, we’ll have our hands full.”
“I’ll keep her in tow.”
“Ha!” Nate barked a laugh. “I can’t wait to see that.” He turned and ambled away, his shoulders bouncing with barely contained mirth.
As he unsaddled Jester, Brooks realized the ramifications of his last statement to Nate. Just how was he to handle Miss Keri Langston, a woman who could shoot him dead in his tracks if he angered her?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Keri stood at the front window, staring out at the barn. She’d like to shoot that lowlife swindler in his tracks. Life here would be hard enough without Uncle Will, who kept things running around Raven Creek, but to have that—that gambling thief here was a whole different thing. If only he wasn’t so good looking.
Little seemed to rile him. That incessant smile of his would get on anybody’s nerves, especially someone on their last nerve, like her. What was she going to do?
If he truly owned Raven Creek now, how could she stay? But where could she go? All she knew to do was ranch work, and nobody this side of the Red River would hire a female ranch hand. Tears stung her eyes, and she swatted at them. She hadn’t been this weepy since Will told her he was sending her away to school. She’d begged and pleaded with him not to send her, and when he said he had his mind made up that she needed to learn the ways of a woman, she’d avoided him and refused to talk to him until she left. She hadn’t even given him a good-bye hug—and now it was too late.
She blew out a raggedy sigh. “Oh, Uncle Will.”
A knock pulled her from her thoughts. She swiped her sleeve across her eyes and walked to the door, hoping her nose wasn’t red. She pulled it open, and there he was.
“What do you want? Come to claim the house now? Just let me get my stuff, and I’ll sleep in the barn with the horses.”
His lips twitched, and his blue-green eyes danced. “No need. I’ve already put my gear in the bunkhouse.”
Didn’t hardly seem right that the owner of the ranch had to sleep with the hands, but she wasn’t about to mention that. “Well, good, ’cause I’m not leaving.”
His eyes took on a serious look. “Neither am I—just so you know.”
“Fine.” She hiked her chin. “What do you want?”
He lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his thick hair. She noticed a nasty looking bruise with a gash at his hairline. “How did you get that? Did Kress pistol-whip you?”
He touched the red gash and winced. “No.”
“The other man do it?”
“No.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, his cheeks had turned a bit red. “Well, how did you do that?”
His mouth twisted up on one side. “I ran into a tree, all right?”
She tried not to smile. “Why didn’t you steer your horse around it?”
His eyes rolled up and he lifted his brows in a cocky manner. “Maybe because my hands were tied behind my back.”
“Oh.” She pressed her lips together, but the vision of his horse trotting down the road while he still had his hands tied hit her as funny. A giggle worked its way out. Then a snort. “Sorry.”
“You don’t look sorry.”
She fought for composure. It was wrong to laugh at a person in dire straights, but after the day she’d had, it was either laugh or cry—and she wasn’t about to cry in front of him.
“Fetch some fresh water from the well out back, then sit down in one of the porch rockers while I get our basket of medicines and bandages.” Keri shook her head. It was no wonder he grinned all the time like a crazy person, since he’d probably been knocked loco from that blow on the head.
He lifted one eyebrow, and she realized how she’d just bossed him around. Instead of making a fuss, he merely asked, “Why do you want me to sit on the porch?”
“Because that wound needs to be treated, or you might get an infection, and—” Die. She left off the last word. As mad as she was that he’d outsmarted her uncle and somehow won the ranch from him, she couldn’t wish anyone dead, especially someone who smiled as much as he did, no matter how he irritated her. She walked through the house to the small closet that had always held their medicine basket.
Back outside, she set the basket down and surveyed the man’s wound. Her hands shook as she held back his thick brown hair. “Turn the chair so the sunlight shines on it.” He did as ordered, and she cleared her throat, hating the way it sounded froggy.
“It’s fine, I’m sure. Don’t fret yourself over it.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not fretting. I’d do the same thing for Nate or Jess—have many times, in fact.”
He grunted but held still. She washed the wound, applied some salve, and wrapped a clean bandage around his head. When she finished, she stepped back, admiring her work.
He lifted his eyes to hers, and up close like she was, she noticed how long and thick his dark lashes were. His nose was straight and his face square, angling down to a solid chin covered with an intriguing stubble. With the sunlight glinting off his brown hair, she noticed reddish accents. He really was a nice-looking man, but she needed to remember that this nice-looking man stole her ranch.
“So, you think I’ll live?”
“Unfortunately.” She busied herself cleaning up the medical supplies.
He stood and grabbed his hat off the rocker spindle. “Look, Miss Langston, if I had anywhere else to go, I’d sign the ranch over to you faster than a rattler could strike, but the fact is … I don’t. This is my home now.”
“But it’s my home too. Has been for over eleven years—if you count the years I was gone.” She wasn’t about to tell him she, too, had nowhere to go, and she didn’t at all like the fact that they had something in common.
“I’m not asking you to leave, but I do hope we can come to some kind of amicable agreement.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged and she noticed just how wide those shoulders were. He must have done some heavy work somewhere to have earned them.
“I don’t know. Maybe you could cook and do our laundry.”
She snorted. “All the men here wash their own clothes. Uncle Will insisted on that.”
He frowned, but it disappeared behind a grin. “Fine then, Missy, you can do the cooking and tend the garden.”
“That’s women’s work.” She wagged her finger under his nose. “And don’t call me Missy. Only Nate calls me that.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
She realized that she was only inches from his face. His breath mingled with hers, and up so close, she could see gray flecks mixed with the blue and green in his pretty eyes. She stepped back. One foot slipped off the edge of the porch, and he grabbed her flailing arm, pulling her back up to the level floor.
“Careful now.”
He stood only inches from her and could have taken advantage—he was certainly strong enough—but gently released her. Keri ducked her head. She didn’t want him to be nice to her. How could she be attracted to the very man who’d stolen her ranch?
“Fine. I’ll cook and do the gardening, but if you think that’s all I’m doing, you’re mistaken. I’m as good a wrangler as I am a shot, Mr.—” She blinked, searching her mind for his name. It sounded like some kind of water, didn’t it? “What did you say your name was?”
“Brooks.” He grinned. “Brooks Morgan.” He tipped his hat. “A pleasure to meet you, Missy.”
She flung a roll of bandages at him as he jogged down the porch steps. “I said don’t call me that.”
His chuckles drifted back to her as his long-legged gait moved him toward the barn. She sagged against the porch railing. Her homecoming sure had turned out differently than she’d expected.
Keri stood and stretched her back. Weeding four rows of beans made it ache with a passion. She pressed her fists into the small of her back, reminding herself how good these beans would taste this winter, once they’d been harvested and canned. At least she hoped she could can them. She’d enjoyed the beans the cook back at the women’s school had prepared so much that she’d talked the woman into showing her how to can, and she’d even helped in the process come harvest time.
She leaned on the hoe and stared across the field to where a trio of horses grazed. If she’d stayed with her mother, would she have learned things like cooking and sewing? She didn’t remember much about her mother or where she lived, except that she lived in a big house with lots of other women. They’d always eaten good food, thanks to a Chinese man named Li Pan. Keri smiled at the memory of the aptly named small cook who often chased dogs and bums away by waving a frying skillet in the air and mumbling a string of foreign words she couldn’t begin to repeat.
“Happy to see me?”
Keri’s smile dimmed as he rode up, leading a wide-eyed cow behind his horse. “What’s that?”
He pushed his hat back on his forehead, that ever-present grin in place. “You mean you don’t know what a cow is?” He shook his head. “How’s that possible since you grew up on a ranch?” He dismounted and stood before her.
“Ha ha.” Keri curled her lip at his lame joke, wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, and glanced down at her dirty pants. “I mean, why is she here? She’s not one of our cows.”
“No, I traded a steer to a man down the road for her. She’s a milk cow—one tame enough we can milk without getting our teeth kicked in.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “And whose job will that be?”
He shrugged. “I reckon we can take turns. I just had a hankering for butter on those fine pancakes you make, and I like a glass of milk now and then.” He leaned closer, making her heart break from a trot into a gallop. “Don’t tell anybody, though.” He smiled and winked.
She watched him amble toward the barn, his horse and the cow following. Butter would taste good, and though she wasn’t one to drink milk, there were plenty of other things she could use it for. Some custard would taste delicious, if she could figure out how to make it. All she knew for sure was that it contained milk, eggs, and some spices.
Dusting off her hands, she walked to the barn and into the open stall where Mr. Morgan led the cow. She noticed a diamond-shaped brand with a roughly shaped J in the center on the cow’s shoulder. “That’s the Diamond J brand, and I don’t want any trouble with our neighbors. Why do you have their cow?”
“Because Mr. Jackson gave it to me.”
Keri narrowed her eyes. “I’ve known Reese Jackson most of my life, and while he may be an honorable man, he’s a tight-fisted ol’ coot and wouldn’t even give a cow to one of his own children. What did you do, smile it away from him?”
His head jerked toward her and his lips lifted. “Something like that.”
“Aren’t you ever serious?” She crossed her arms.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Oh, come on. You can’t run a ranch just by joking around. It takes a lot of hard work, and if you don’t work and make all your hands do everything, they won’t like you or respect you, and that affects output. Unhappy cowboys are restless and move on. I don’t want to lose Nate and Jess. Do you hear me?”
He stared at her over the cow, his eyes dancing. “What do you think of the name Moo-linda?” He chuckled. “Get it?”
Was he serious? “I think that clobbering you took to the head jiggled something loose in your brain. That’s the dumbest name I ever heard for a cow.” She stomped from the stall.
“Huh-uh. What about Bossy? Now that’s a dumb cow name. I mean, have you ever seen a bossy cow?” He followed her. “How about Moo-randa? Or Moo-tilda?”
End of the Trail Page 6