Following the robbery ranchers reported missing cattle and horses. Not in large numbers but enough that at first the range riders simply felt they’d drifted into draws. Horses known for their speed and endurance mysteriously escaped from corrals.
Hardwick reached the point of near explosion. “Here I’ve sold a piece of land and a stated number of animals in good faith,” he said as he scratched his grizzled head. “Doc, it beats me how these dirty skunks can sneak in, cut out the best, and get away without someone seein’ them.” He held his muscular arm steady while Adam cleansed a nasty cut and dressed it.
“You say you’ve sold part of the Lazy H?”
“Had to.” The terse reply said everything. “A few more hard winters like this one and I’d be out of ranching.” He fumbled with the button on his sleeve.
“Who bought it?”
“Some feller from back—”
“Hey, Doc!” The door opened and a freckle-faced gap-toothed boy burst in. “You’re needed at the Pronghorn. Right now. There’s been a fight an’ a bunch of guys are about dead!” He slammed back out.
Adam grabbed his medical bag and overtook the excited youngster halfway to the saloon. Sometimes he felt like refusing to patch up men who fought for entertainment or because they wouldn’t take anything off anyone else. He shook his head and lengthened his stride. Never in his life had he turned his back on need and he couldn’t start now, no matter how disgusted he might be.
When he stepped inside the saloon, a strangely silent crowd parted like the Red Sea and fell back to make a path for him.
“Who’s hurt worst?” He rolled up his sleeves and started to work, relieved that no one was “about dead” after all. When he had set a broken arm, staunched the blood from a head wound, and tended to various cuts and bruises he faced the motley group. “How many more of you are going to wind up like these men? Or like those? He pointed out the open window toward the little cemetery at the end of town. “Don’t any of you have brains enough to know that brawling settles absolutely nothing?”
“Sounds like we’ve got two preachers in this town instead of just one,” a lazy voice drawled.
Adam whipped around, furious at the contemptuous comment. Dan Sharpe lounged in a chair tipped back against the wall with the two front legs in the air. Voices nervously tittered but the laughter Adam might have expected never came.
“I’m no preacher but I’m fed up with this kind of thing.” His deadly quiet voice stilled the shuffle of feet that had greeted his outburst.
The chair came down in a hurry. Dan bounded up like a tiger, and his mirthless grin made the resemblance even more striking. Every curve of his tensed body showed all he needed to spring was a single word from Adam. “Trying to make Antelope a better place for—the ladies?”
His meaning was absolutely clear. Everyone in Antelope knew Dan Sharpe had fallen for Ivy Ann Brown like a second-rate rider. Even those who admired Dan muttered an inaudible protest that spurred Adam into action. Black rage erased his hatred of violence. In two quick steps he reached Dan, snatched a handful of deerskin shirt, and threw the shorter man back in his chair.
Faster than hail Dan reached for the gun hanging low on his right hip. Before it cleared the holster a mighty kick crumpled him into stomach-clutching misery and disabled him. In silence Adam Birchfield turned his back and strode out of the Pronghorn. A moment later he came back in. “He may have a broke rib or two. If he does, haul him down to my office.”
For a time Antelope held its breath and waited. How would Dan respond? No one knew, not even his most trusted henchmen. His ribs had not been broken. Neither had he suffered permanent damage except to his ego. Three days later he stepped from the saloon just as Adam and Nat came out of the Greers’ general store.
“Hold on there!” he called, and rapidly walked down the dusty street.
Adam and Nat froze. Unarmed, they could only watch Dan advance. Faces popped into windows. Men, women, and children on the street scurried for shelter from the inevitable fight. Nat involuntarily started to step forward and shield his brother but an iron hand restrained him as Adam’s hoarse voice ordered, “No, this is my fight.”
To the town’s astonishment, Dan stopped a few feet from the brothers, took off his hat with his left hand and held out his right. His clear voice reached everyone around. “Sorry, Birchfield. I was way out of line. No hard feelings?”
A little warning bell inside Adam told him not to trust Dan Sharpe any farther than he could see. Yet he had no choice but to accept the proffered hand. Someone coughed and a few cheered. Others looked disappointed at being cheated of a fight. But Dan clapped his hat back on his head, grinned a snowy grin, and marched into the Silver saloon.
Adam overheard one old-timer mutter, “That devil! Knows even the worst of us won’t stand for some things. Now he walks off like a hero.” A stream of dark brown tobacco juice pinged against a rock in the road. “Hope Doc’s smart enough not to be fooled by that coyote in the chicken coop.” He came over to Adam, walking with the uneven, bowlegged gait of a man more used to straddling a horse than hoofing it. “Sonny, don’t you never turn your back on Dan Sharpe.” He went on down the street before Adam could answer.
“I’m afraid you’ve made an enemy,” Nat told him soberly.
Adam shrugged. “It won’t be the last, I’m sure.” He unseeingly gazed off down the street then looked up at the mountains. “Like you told me before I came, it’s a rough land out here.”
“You haven’t changed your mind about staying?” Nat asked.
“No, but I’ve sure changed my mind about myself.” Adam’s clear laugh rang out. “I always felt I could be in control of any situation. Now I know that underneath the surface lies more anger than I ever dreamed possible!”
Before long the incident had slipped into the graveyard of stale news. Nat and Adam continued with their busy lives. Dan took advantage of the summer months to widen and better the rough wagon track into Antelope. Laurel gathered her courage to speak a dozen times and finally promised herself that the next time Adam came to see her she would trust in his love and tell him the truth. She secretly rejoiced when that time of reckoning was postponed due to a rash of illnesses and minor accidents.
One golden afternoon loud shouts brought her and Mrs. Terry to their cabin door. “Dan Sharpe’s back,” rang in the streets.
Widow Terry’s face lightened. “Ivy Ann, go see if he brought back our bolts of cloth, will you?”
Glad to escape her own thoughts, Laurel lightly ran over to the main street. She saw Adam hastening toward the general store and she waved. He raised his hand, smiled, and froze when a familiar figure in a blue dress alit from Dan Sharpe’s wagon.
She straightened her hat, and looked inquiringly around her. Suddenly she caught sight of the blue-clad statue whose hand remained upraised. “Laurel!” Ivy Ann gathered her skirts around her and sped down the street. “Surprise! We’re here for good!”
Laurel watched her twin come as if in a dream. Surely it couldn’t be happening, just when she had promised God to make things right with Adam, no matter what the cost.
Yet it had happened. She had waited too long.
Chapter 12
The arrival of the real Ivy Ann Brown and her parents—and the untangling of why Laurel had chosen to masquerade as her twin—offered an even more interesting topic of discussion than the Rock Springs bank robbery. After the first initial shock, when Adam’s heart had cried out in gladness at the sight of that blue gown, he fell prey to more emotions than he had known existed: disillusionment that the young woman he had put on a pedestal could have deceived him; joy that the real Laurel was not Ivy Ann; and wariness in his dealings with either twin. When Nat began squiring Laurel, all he felt was jealousy, pure and simple.
Dan Sharpe soon transferred his affections. Ivy Ann’s welcome of him as part of her new life soothed the blow to his vanity that Laurel had dealt with her indifference. He even accompanied Ivy to church a
t her insistence. Caught up in gladness over being with Laurel again, Ivy took to the range like a rabbit to its burrow. Never a Sunday afternoon passed but what the wide porch of the old ranchhouse on the Double B was crowded with riders in their best.
During the week, Ivy Ann rode with whatever hand she could pry loose from her father’s iron supervision. To the family’s amazement, Laurel preferred to stay in town with Mrs. Terry and keep her job until winter when the married daughter and son-in-law planned to come back, build onto the cabin, and live with the kindly woman.
“I started a job and I’d like to finish it,” she wistfully told her parents. She didn’t add that even glimpses of Adam rewarded her diligent search for him every time she went out. Or that Nat offered strong support. He had come the same evening her family arrived and asked to see her alone.
“It’s been a terrible shock but I believe that in time he will forgive you,” Nat comforted. “In the meantime, may I accompany you now and then?” He added irrelevantly, “That sister of yours could be quite a woman if she were more like you.”
At last they arranged things so Laurel would go home weekends but stay in town during the week. Before long and in spite of her own preoccupation, Laurel saw small signs that convinced her Nat had fallen in love with Ivy Ann. Poor Nat! Although she could see some changes in Ivy, the chances she would ever consider marrying a minister were a thousand to one. Nat never expressed his feelings but Laurel felt sure she saw them in his dark, expressive eyes.
“Ivy Ann,” Laurel said one Sunday evening just before she left to ride back to Antelope, “I don’t want to interfere but you do know Dan Sharpe is in love with you?”
“As if any decent girl could care for him,” Ivy scoffed and shook her light brown curls until they danced. “He is so stuck on himself I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to tell God when to make the sun come up and go down!” A shrewd look made her appear far older than almost twenty-one. “Besides, Sally Mae said Dan was crazy about you. The only reason he likes me is to get back at you for turning him down.”
“Don’t be foolish.” Laurel blushed.
Ivy Ann stretched her round white arms, bare to the elbow. “You know who I think is the nicest man out here?”
Adam, Laurel’s aching heart cried. She sat up straight on her sister’s bed.
“Nathaniel Birchfield.” Warm color added beauty to the lightly tanned face and her dark eyes shone. “I know he’d never look at me and I could never be good enough for him, but I do admire him. He’s so much like Adam, and then some.”
Laurel felt relief pour through her. Just having Ivy not interested in Adam meant a lot. She considered dropping a hint to her twin and changed her mind immediately. Once before she had fallen into a mess because of Ivy Ann. Never again.
The following Saturday dawned as one of the most beautiful days of summer. Laurel and Ivy Ann scorned the hopeful offers of a dozen escorts and set out for a long ride. Delicious and filling sandwiches, cookies, and two blushing peaches from some Dan Sharpe had brought rested in their saddle bags. Their canteens were full in case they chose to go up rather than down to the river or if they didn’t find a stream to quench their summer thirst.
“Do you realize this will be the longest time we’ve had together since I got here?” Ivy Ann reined in her mount atop a low rise that afforded a view of the rolling Double B with its surrounding mountains.
“I know, it’s wonderful.” Laurel meant it. The new twin her sister had become didn’t jangle on Laurel’s nerves but offered the same companionship they’d known before Ivy Ann discovered beaux.
“We have to stay on main trails,” she warned and nudged her horse’s sides with her heels.
“You won’t catch me getting lost in this place,” Ivy Ann said emphatically and she lifted one eyebrow. “Of course, if the right person or persons came along to rescue us—”
“You’re impossible!” Laurel couldn’t help laughing and thinking it wouldn’t be so bad after all, provided that rescue party included Adam.
Three hours later she paid for her daydreaming. With Laurel’s hands slack on the reins as her horse stepped into a gopher hole, Laurel pitched over the horse’s head and landed in a heap.
“Laurel!” Ivy Ann screamed then slid from her horse and ran to her sister. “Are you hurt?”
Laurel shook her head and spit out a mouthful of pine needles. “Ugh! I don’t think so, oh, oh.” She tried to stand but went down when her ankle refused to support her. “I—I guess I sprained it.” She felt her ankle gingerly. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“Good.” Ivy Ann pushed Laurel’s hand away and gently pulled off her boot. “It’s starting to swell.”
Laurel’s horrified gaze riveted on the ankle.
“Can you ride with it like that?”
Laurel shook her head. “You’ll have to go for help.”
“And leave you?” Tears streamed down her cheeks, and Ivy glanced around the country that had seemed so beautiful but now appeared threatening.
“We have no choice.” Laurel knew she had to be strong. “Leave me some of the sandwiches and….” She broke off and stared behind Ivy Ann.
“What’s wrong?” Ivy turned.
“I thought I saw something move behind that big pine but I guess there’s nothing there.”
Ivy Ann cast a fearful glance then bravely marched to it. “I don’t see anything.” She looked at the sky and noted the sun’s position. “Why can’t I just stay with you? Daddy will send someone.”
“But not for hours,” Laurel pointed out, as she bit her lip against the pain and fear falling over her like a blanket. “We told them we’d be gone all day. Hurry home and get help.”
Five minutes later she watched her twin bolting down the grassy hillside and out of sight as if the devil himself pursued her.
Another few minutes passed before a familiar drawling voice cut the eerie silence. “Well, Miss Ivy Ann. I’ve been biding my time just waiting to cut you out of the herd. Looks like it’s paid off.”
Laurel twisted her body and stared straight into Dan Sharpe’s tiger eyes, more amber than ever in contrast to his bay horse.
“I’m not—” Ivy Ann, she started to say.
He didn’t let her finish. “What happened?” He stepped nearer and genuine concern showed when he saw her exposed ankle. “You really messed yourself up, didn’t you?” He dropped to his knees and pressed here and there.
“That hurts!” Laurel tried to pull her foot free but Dan held it fast.
“I’m on my knees to you. Isn’t that what every girl wants?” Again he gave her no time to answer but sauntered to her horse. He grunted when he found the sandwiches carefully wrapped in an old napkin and transferred them to a clean rock nearby. “I’m not skilled like the Doc but wrapping it will help enough so you can ride.” He deftly made a bandage and tied the ends.
“My sister has gone for help, thank you.” Laurel’s icy tones didn’t faze him.
“Oh, we won’t be going exactly the same way.” He shoved his hat back on his head, more predatory than ever. “I know this nice little place not far from here where we can stay, that is, until you promise to marry me.”
“Marry you?” Was he totally mad? Laurel’s brain seemed to explode.
“Look, Ivy Ann.” He hunkered back on his boot heels. “If you’re going to live out here you need a husband. The sooner the better. I’ve never asked a woman to marry me and I never thought I would but you aren’t just any woman. First off, I fell for your sister but since getting to know you, I decided I like your spunk better.” He smiled and she wanted to hit him.
“Now I’m going to get you onto your horse. Don’t get any wild ideas about running away because I can catch you.”
“You will be hanged for this,” Laurel predicted, her tone cold and clear in spite of the hot day. “Even Antelope, wild as it is, won’t allow a kidnapping.”
“My dear, ignorant girl.” He raised his tawny eyebrows in m
ock surprise. “An elopement isn’t considered kidnapping even in the East, is it? I’ll get you settled comfortably and go find a preacher. Sorry you can’t have a church wedding and all that with the Reverend Birchfield presiding, but I know a justice of the peace who will come for certain considerations and keep his mouth shut about any story a timid bride might concoct.”
Dear God, are You here? Laurel looked up with a silent cry in her heart. The same snow-topped mountains she loved reared against the same sky. Uneasy peace nudged aside some of her fears as she clung to her faith and trust in God with all her heart and soul.
Even when her lips whitened with pain as Dan lifted her into the saddle she held back tears.
“This is no good,” he said as he lifted her off and laid her back on the needle-covered ground. The he smartly slapped her horse’s rump. “He will head for home,” Dan said. “They’ll think he broke free.” He picked her up and in spite of his small stature easily carried her to the bay and mounted, cradling her so her injured foot could be supported across the saddle.
“They will track us,” Laurel warned through waves of pain when he started.
“Not where we’re going.” He chuckled and a few minutes later when he left the soft ground and his horse’s hooves clattered on rocks it took everything Laurel had to keep her from despair.
Too engrossed with carrying the injured girl to heed his surroundings, Dan’s usually keen hearing missed small, cautious sounds that warned someone pursued them. Ivy Ann had no more than ridden out of sight when she realized she still carried the water canteen. Wheeling her horse back the way she had come, uneasiness filled her as she glanced around. Why did she feel another presence? Had Laurel really seen something move?
The thud of hooves roused Ivy and she swung her horse out of the way of the approaching steed headed straight toward her. Her eyes widened. Laurel had ridden that very horse this morning! She watched the frightened beast rush by, obviously headed for the Double B. What had happened to terrify him like that? she wondered.
Wildflower Harvest: Includes Bonus Story of Desert Rose Page 11