“Bless you, boy.” Nola, as she had insisted Camille call her, patted Ty’s cheek with her wrinkled hand as if he were indeed a boy. “My bones told me we had a storm headed this way, but I didn’t see Silas today to ask him to cut more wood for us. I think it’s going to be a doozy the way my joints ache.”
“You knew I was coming by and wouldn’t let you freeze.” Ty put his arm around her shoulders, hugging gently. “Now, I’m ready for that cup of tea and some of Hester’s coconut cake.”
“You go on into the living room and rest,” said Nola. “Camille and I will bring in the tea and cake.”
“I could use a little pampering. It’s been a long day.”
“Not without a bit of excitement, either.” Camille smiled at him as she unbuttoned her coat. “Shall I write up the incident at the Tripoli for the paper?” She had no intention of trying such a thing. It would turn out to be far too biased.
“No need. By morning, it will be all over town anyway.”
“Probably all over town already.” Nola picked up a long knife to cut the cake. “You want a big piece, Ty?”
“Yes, ma’am. About half of it will do.” He grinned and sauntered into the living room.
Nola cut him a generous piece of cake, but not half of it. “Don’t want to give him bad dreams.”
“He could probably eat half of it, given how hard he was working out there.” Camille set the tea service, cups and saucers on a large tray.
“Admirable sight, isn’t it? Watching a strong man chop wood. I always stopped what I was doing when my husband was tending to that chore.” Nola paused in the middle of cutting another piece of cake, her expression wistful and a bit sad. “He looked so good swinging that ax. All man.” She took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. “I was always afraid he’d cut a foot off.” She laughed, shaking her head. “We were married almost fifty years, and he never once nicked himself with that ax. The hatchet, either. But I was always afraid he would. ’Course half the time we burned cow chips in the fire instead of wood.”
“Cow chips?” Camille picked up the tea tray.
“Cow manure that’s dried hard from the sun. When we were first out here, we used buffalo chips, too. But the buffalo had been killed off, except for the few that were taken by some of the ranchers to keep them from becoming extinct. So we ran out of that fuel after about a year.”
“I think I prefer wood or coal.”
“Made a mighty good fire, and when there’s barely any wood for ten miles around, you’re thankful to have it.” Nola set the plates, forks and napkins on another tray. “You’ll have to come back for this, dear.”
“I’ll be glad to.” Camille carried the tea into the living room and set it down on the center table. She went back for the cake, stepping out of the way so Nola could come into the room.
When she returned, the elderly lady motioned for her to sit on the sofa with Ty. “Why don’t you take care of the tea for us?”
“I’d be happy to.” She prepared a cup for Nola. “Sugar?”
“One spoonful, please.”
Camille stirred a spoonful of sugar into the cup. “Cream?”
“No thanks.”
She handed the cup and saucer across to her landlady. “Mr. McKinnon, how do you like your tea?”
“One spoon of sugar for me, too. No cream.” There was a hint of admiration in his eyes.
It struck her that he was pleased because she could competently do such a ladylike task. I hope he doesn’t expect the same thing when it comes to cooking, she thought. She poured her tea, adding a bit of sugar and cream, then handed the others their cake.
Ty took a bite. “Mm. As good as ever. Give my compliments to Hester.”
“I will,” said Nola. “I do enjoy her cooking. Almost as much as Jessie’s. Now that woman knows her way around a kitchen.”
“She loves trying new recipes. Cade says he never knows what to expect for dinner, especially when it comes to desserts. I don’t think she’s ever tried anything that wasn’t delicious.”
He polished off his cake, set the plate and fork on the table and turned toward Camille. “Did y’all get any news about how the legislature voted today?”
“On the fencing bill?” Camille had finished her much smaller piece of cake and set the plate down. When Ty nodded, she continued. “Yes. By the way Mr. Hill talked, I thought you’d probably heard. They finally passed the law. Fence cutting is a felony, punishable by one to five years in prison. The penalty for malicious pasture burning is two to five years in prison.”
Ty whistled. “With the way the legislators have bounced around on the issue, that’s stiffer than I’d expected. What about fencing in land that doesn’t belong to you?”
“It’s a misdemeanor. It has to be done knowingly and without permission. Those who build the fences have six months to remove them. Ranchers who build fences across public roads on their property have to place a gate every three miles and make sure it’s in proper repair.”
“It sounds like a fair law.” Nola took her last bite, chewing thoughtfully.
“As long as the ranchers who have fenced in land they shouldn’t have act quickly to take them down. If they procrastinate too long, it will cause more trouble,” said Ty. “Cade and I are planning to fence in our place beginning next spring. It’s costly to do it, but I think it will save money in the long run. We can keep track of our cattle a whole lot easier. Other ranchers’ cattle won’t eat our grass or drink up our water.”
“What if we have a drought?” asked Nola. “What will you do with your stock then?”
“We’d have to find another range for them. Maybe lease land up north or out in New Mexico.”
“Has there been much fence cutting around here?” asked Camille.
“No. Mainly because there aren’t many fences. They’ve had some cutting down in Tom Green County. It’s gotten bad in several other places. The small ranchers with no land started out cutting the fences of the big operators who had fenced in the public lands. I couldn’t fault them for that. Seems like some rough characters have moved in expressly to cause trouble.”
Nola shook her head. “I can’t understand the arrogance of some of these big-money corporations thinking they can do whatever they want. In some places, they’ve fenced in other ranches, farms or even towns.”
“That was what started it. Now some fellows just cut barbed wire whenever they see it, even if the rancher isn’t causing any problems for anyone else.”
“Mr. Hill had a telegram that fence-cutters were ‘playing the wild’ in Bastrop,” said Camille. “They cut several miles of fence and left handwritten notices that they are free-grass fence-cutters and they’ll cut the throats of any owners if they rebuild the fence. Do you think they’ll follow through on their threat?”
“They might. There have been a few killings, but not many. I suppose it will take catching some of them and sending them to the pen to make them understand the law.” Ty stretched his legs out in front of him in a comfortably relaxed manner. “Anything else of note?”
“If I tell you, you won’t read the paper.”
“I promise I’ll read everything else.”
“They’re having a terrible flood in Ohio. Parts of Cincinnati and surrounding areas are completely submerged. They had lost telegraph communication with towns farther up the Ohio River. Thousands of homes and businesses are covered in water.”
“Oh, my. Those poor people,” said Nola. “They’ve lost everything.”
“I think some were able to take their belongings with them. Where houses are only partially flooded, the police are patrolling in boats because they’re afraid thieves will use boats and take advantage of the owners’ absence.”
“I wonder if the same storm is blowing in here tonight. If it is, we could be in for problems of our own.” Ty glanced toward the window.
“Do you think Willow Creek will flood?”
“It could. But it’s well away from any of the
buildings, so I don’t think it will cause too much trouble. Unless the water goes over the bridge. Then we won’t be able to go out of town in that direction. If it floods, all the other creeks in the county probably will too. It’ll be a mess.”
“Well, I think I’ll head on to bed in case we have some exciting weather in the next few days. Might not get to sleep as much tomorrow night.” Nola stood, leaning on her cane. Ty stood also. “No need to play polite, boy, even if I did teach you to. Camille, just set the dishes in the kitchen with the rest. Hester will take care of them in the morning.”
“Shouldn’t I wash them?”
“No need. She’s used to me leaving them for her. Gets testy when I don’t. Says that’s what she’s paid for. You’ve had a long, busy day. You need to spend a few minutes with your beau without an old lady watching you like a nosy old hen.”
Ty walked over and kissed Nola on the forehead. “Good night, sweetheart.”
“You can flatter me all you want, rascal, but you can’t have any more cake.” She laid her hand on his face, her countenance softening and filled with love. “It’s good to see you happy,” she whispered.
Camille still heard her. Surely making him happy was a good thing. “Do you need me to get you another quilt?”
“I have an extra one at the foot of the bed. It should be fine. I’ll see you in the morning, Camille. I hope you enjoy your room.”
“It’s lovely. I know I will.”
“Has to be better than the hotel. Not nearly as noisy anyway.”
“Simply being here is better than the hotel. Call me if you need anything during the night.”
“I will, though I don’t expect that to happen. But it is nice knowing someone will be here if I need help. Don’t keep her up too late, Ty. She has to go to work in the morning.” Nola winked at him and walked down the hall, her cane tapping lightly on the floor. Her bedroom was on the ground floor to the left of the kitchen.
Ty sat back down, moving a little closer to Camille than he had been before, but there was still a respectable space between them. “You two seem to get along well.”
“I think we will. She’s an interesting lady and very kind.”
“Unless she catches you rollin’ a smoke behind the barn.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen. She plucked that cigarette out of my hand and stomped on it. Then she pulled the pouch of tobacco from my shirt pocket and ground it into the dirt with the toe of her boot.”
“No lecture?”
“Yes, there was a lecture on the filthiness of tobacco. It probably lasted five minutes but seemed like an hour.” Ty laughed and slipped his hand around hers. “It’s funny now, but it sure wasn’t humorous at the time, not when every cowboy on the ranch peeked around the barn to see what the ruckus was about.”
“I bet it was a long time before you lived it down.”
“A couple of years. By then I’d pulled plenty of other dumb stunts to give them fodder for their tales.”
“What about Cade? Did he get into mischief, too?”
“Half the time he led the way. But if I got into trouble, he was always there to bail me out.”
She looked up at him, resting her head on the back of the sofa. “I expect you went to his rescue, too.”
“On occasion.”
“Fourteen. Weren’t you young to be working on a ranch?”
“No. I’ve seen boys as young as ten show up wanting to be cowboys. Sometimes they make it at that age, sometimes they have to wait a while.” He was quiet for a few seconds, lost in thought. “I was eleven and Cade was thirteen when we came west.”
She wondered if he was even aware of his fingers tightening around hers.
“Father was killed in the war. Mother died six months later. Cade blames himself for that. He did his best to take care of her. As far as that goes, I did, too. But there was too little food and no medicine.” He looked at her, sadness and regret etched on his face. “Our mother was a true Southern lady like you. Her family had owned a small plantation in Georgia for four generations. Father was a lawyer and a businessman. Her parents had wanted her to marry another landowner, but she loved him desperately, so they relented.
“My grandparents had both died of a fever in the early days of the war. We stayed at the plantation for a while before deserters burned it to the ground. There wasn’t much left anyway. The military on both sides had taken everything of use. We hid in the woods when the deserters came, then lived in a makeshift shack Cade and I put together. We’d gotten word about our father’s death a week before the big house was burned. Maybe if the two hadn’t happened so close together, Mother would have survived. But she’d lost too much. She didn’t have the strength or the will to fight the sickness.”
“She died of a broken heart,” Camille said softly.
“I think she did. No matter how much she loved us, she couldn’t go on without Father.”
He had known so much heartache. Perhaps it had played a big part in making him the man he was. “How did you get to Texas?”
“Walked. We buried Mother and pointed our bare feet west. Sometimes we caught a ride in a farm wagon, but we walked most of the way. We’d do odd jobs whenever we could, usually just for a meal and a night’s sleep in a barn. Some folks had us stay a while, though most only wanted us around for a few days. The Petersons in East Texas kept coming up with things for us to do. Mrs. Peterson said they had to keep us around long enough to fatten us up a bit.”
“How did you meet Nola’s husband?”
“We hooked up with one of his cowboys in San Antonio, and he took us out to their ranch in South Texas. They moved out here about six years ago. Cade and I were still with the Rangers, but we kept in touch with them and tagged along a year later.”
“At the right time to start a town.”
“First we established the ranch and worked it for about a year. When we heard the railroad would be coming through here, things started hopping.” He grinned and released her hand, shifting a bit so he could look at her easier. “I decided I wanted to be in the thick of it.”
“I expect Amanda was glad to move to town.”
“Yes and no. She liked living out at the ranch, but she enjoyed being around people. Unfortunately, there weren’t any houses or buildings. Our first town home and the first store were in tents. As soon as the railroad got this far, we shipped in lumber from Fort Worth and built a store and a house.”
“In that order?”
“Nope.”
A gust of wind rattled the window. “You’d better head on home,” said Camille.
“Ready to get rid of me?”
“No, but I don’t want you caught in the storm, either.”
“I suppose you need to unpack.” Ty stood and held out his hand. When she clasped it, he pulled her up beside him.
“Some, at least. It will take a few days to get settled.” She tucked her hand around his arm as they walked toward the front door. “I sent one of my trunks over to Bonnie’s.” She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “The dresses I used to wear to work. I didn’t want to bring them here.”
“Nola wouldn’t pry. Doubt Hester would, either.”
“Probably not, but she might get curious about a trunk that I never opened. Bonnie and I will eventually box them up and send them to an acquaintance in New Orleans. If she can’t wear them, she’ll probably find someone who can.”
“You aren’t going to keep any of them?” A second later, dull red crept up his neck and face.
She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Why, Mr. McKinnon, are you interested in seeing what I wore to work?”
“No.” He frowned and huffed, then glanced away. “Yes. But I shouldn’t be.”
His admission, however grudgingly given, was touching. In an odd way, it was also comforting. It told her jaded, cynical mind that he was as normal as any man, even though he lived by higher morals than other men she had known.
“I’ll keep one or
two. Perhaps someday I’ll wear one for you.” When he swallowed hard, she took pity on him. “My clothing wasn’t nearly as immodest as one would expect. I was Angelique, the Angel.”
“So you dressed like one,” he said with a quiet sigh.
She wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. “Well, I didn’t have wings.”
His lip twitched with the beginning of a smile. “So you were the demure gambler?”
“Most of the time.”
He rested his right hand at the small of her back. “And other times?”
“A little less demure.” She slid her hand around his neck. “But never vulgar. They would be appropriate for a fancy ball.” Though she had never gone to one.
“Too bad the ladies gave up on the idea of a Leap Year Ball. Save one for New Year’s. We’ll throw a party.”
“If I’m still here.”
“I hope you are.” His left hand joined the right one.
“So do I.”
“If your gowns aren’t scandalous, why do you want to get rid of them?”
“Every time I wore one, it would remind me of what I used to do. The two I might keep are brand new, so they probably wouldn’t bother me that way.” The wind rattled the window again. “You’d better go.”
“I will directly.” He lowered his head until his mouth was only an inch or two above hers. “But I need a proper send-off.”
She put her other hand around his neck and whispered, “Good night.”
“Dream of me.” He captured her mouth in a toe-curling kiss, guaranteeing that she would do just that.
Chapter Fifteen
Camille awoke Thursday morning to a cold, pouring rain. By the time she left for work, it had lessened but was still coming down steadily. It kept up all day, prompting pleased smiles from the ranchers because it would provide good ground moisture for the spring grass. The townspeople were anticipating plenty of fresh vegetables from their gardens and pears and peaches from their fruit trees. Slipping and sliding across the muddy streets were novelties, invoking laughter and hearty teasing when an unfortunate cowboy landed on his backside.
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