by Stacey Kayne
A heavy sigh broke from Chance's chest as he pulled off his brown Stetson and shoved a hand through his hair. "Hell."
"My sentiment exactly." Tucker nearly smiled as panic replaced the amusement that had lit his brother's eyes.
"So now we're supposed to look after his kids?"
"Hell if I know. He was your friend. I never even met the man. I got sick of chasing the south end of longhorns at the age of eighteen."
"We're going to have our hands full with your mustangs, not to mention every horse thief between here and Wyoming."
"Don't I know it," Tucker said, nodding his head in full agreement.
Alarm tightened Chance's features. "Who has the deed?"
"She does." Tucker smiled, knowing the relief in his brother's eyes would be short-lived. He'd have an easier time getting their deed from the belly of a live grizzly than he would from Zach Daines's daughter.
"So, why didn't you just give your condolences, ask for the deed and send them on their way?"
"I tried, but she won't consent to an annulment."
Chance arched an eyebrow. "Come again?"
"You heard me."
"You married her?"
"By accident."
"By what?"
"Are you hard of hearin' all 'a sudden? I said I married her by accident."
"No, Tucker. You break a window by accident. You step in horseshit by accident, but no one gets married by accident!"
"Well, I did! I was over at Big Jack's—"
"Drunker than a skunk in a barrel of whiskey," Chance cut in, shaking his head.
"—and the reverend threw a marriage document into the pot."
"Gambling with a man of the church, no less."
"I had just won the hand when this angel appears outta nowhere."
"An angel? Damn it, Tuck, I told you bounty hunting was no way to make a living! Your conscience is affecting your brain."
"My conscience is just fine! I've never killed anybody in cold blood, and we both know I shot more men at the age of fourteen than I have in the last twelve years."
A glittering glance from Chance revealed memories neither one cared to discuss. Memories of a childhood spent spying for military camps during the War Between the States after the death of their father. With a loyalty to no one but each other, they had moved with ease through military camps on both sides of the enemy line, relaying information and documents. But it didn't matter what color coat you wore in hell. Caught with incriminating documents, they'd been tossed into a place that made hand-to-hand combat on the battlefields seem inviting.
"She caught me off guard is all," Tucker said after a moment of heavy silence. "I'll admit I'd had a few shots of whiskey and Henderson stirred things up with that marriage document, and then this pretty blonde showed up beside me—"
"And you accidentally married her," Chance finished for him.
Tucker frowned at Chance's disapproving gaze. "Would you shut up and let me finish? Why do you always have to put a downward spin on everything?"
"The only one creating a downward spin is you, little brother. By the rate you're spinning, the heels of your boots must be gettin' close to the fires of hell. You better cut that angel loose before you drag her down with you."
"I tried! I rode into Black Dog, but Henderson had already caught the first stage out of town. So now we've got to have the damn thing annulled, but Skylar refused. She said she won't agree to an annulment until we reach Wyoming, claiming our ranch is half hers. I explained the dangers of traveling through wild country, but the woman's stubborn as granite rock."
"And cunning as a fox," Chance ground out, shifting his hard gaze toward Skylar. "I've worked too damn hard these past ten years to give away half our land to a pretty lady." He paused, shifting his gaze to the Arabian. "That sure is one handsome stud she's grooming."
Tucker wasn't surprised by Chance's distraction with the horse. "The chestnut Garret's riding is just as impressive."
"Where did Zach find such rare horses in the States?"
"How the hell should I know?" Tucker scowled as he slumped back, leaning his shoulders against the rough wood of the cabin. "You said you worked with Zach and his boys down in Texas. How could you think his daughter was his son?"
"That was three years ago. I'm sure none of the other men suspected Sky to be anything other than what she appeared to be. A fine kid who could rope and ride with the best of us. Her hair was short and her shape was, ah...I guess you could say, undeveloped. Zach worked Sky as hard as the rest of his men."
"Her father had her driving stock?" Tucker still struggled to believe that fact. "Where was her mother?"
"From what I recall, Zach's wife took sick and died seven or eight years ago. Being the stock-drive foreman, Zach's kids came along. Garret rode on the chuck wagon, but Sky collected pay like the rest of us and he, or rather, she, earned it. Where's Garret?"
Tucker flashed a slight smile. "He insisted on rounding up the mares alone. I figured I'd give him a good hour to wear them out a bit before I go help him."
"Don't look like he needs much help to me."
Tucker followed his brother's gaze across the mesa. Garret was riding the chestnut stallion toward the cabin and holding three leads, each attached to a mare. "Well I'll be damned."
"Don't I know it. But it's your own fault. Marrying angels by accident," Chance muttered in disgust, shaking his head. "Seems we've been spotted by your angelic wife," he said, waving to Skylar as she walked toward them.
Tucker pushed away from the cabin wall and leaned close to his brother. "One more thing, Chance, before you rush off to greet her. Remember when I said it was a fool idea to send our deed off with Daines? Seems he told his daughter you and him were partners. Married or not, as I said just now, she believes half our land is hers."
Chance's eyes widened as Skylar approached them. His surprise confirmed it. Zach Daines had lied to his daughter.
"Chance," Skylar said, stopping in front of them.
Chance was quick to recover. "Sky." He extended his hand. "It's been a long time."
"It has," she replied, shaking his hand, her lips twitching with the hint of a smile. "I never knew you had a twin brother."
"I never knew Zach had a daughter."
Her frown deepened. She gave a slight shrug. "Minor family details, I suppose."
"Tuck mentioned you were hit by rustlers, lost your father and your stock. You have my condolences, Sky. Your father was a good man."
The instant shadow of sadness in Skylar's blue eyes surprised Tucker, and he realized he hadn't offered her any such sentiment in regards to her father's death. Another area where he hadn't handled himself very well. Damn.
"Thank you," she said.
Her thick tone pricked at Tucker's skin. She cleared her throat, visibly fighting moisture from her eyes. The show of emotion didn't last but a second.
"We need to discuss the agreement you had with my father," she said in a firm tone.
Any sentiment she felt over her father's death didn't compare to her determination to claim what she believed to be hers. Since Chance was the one who had hired Daines, he'd damn well better find a way to set her straight.
"I believe Garret could use my help," Tucker announced, and quickly started across the yard, leaving Skylar and Chance to hash things out.
A half hour later, he and Garret had the horses corralled. Chance and Skylar had gone into the cabin. Concerned, Garret headed inside, but Tucker opted to keep out of rifle range. He'd had his round with Skylar, and lost. He mounted his horse, preparing to round up his white stallion and the last of his mares when the cabin door slammed.
Tucker couldn't hold back a burst of laughter at the sight of Chance's rage-reddened face. He had to give Skylar credit. It took a stubborn soul to get a rise out of his twin. By the murderous look on Chance's face, he was mighty ticked off.
"I don't see a damn thing funny about this, Tuck!" Chance shouted as he stomped toward him. "I've neve
r met a man with more determination than that woman. You do know what she's determined to get, don't you? Our land!"
"I know. Did you tell her about your contract with her father for the horses and employment?"
Chance stopped beside him and planted his hands on his hips. "I sure did."
"And?"
"She demanded to see the contract."
"Did you show it to her?"
"It's on our ranch, in Wyoming!" he shouted, sounding frantic. "She said she'd take a look at it when we get there, but until then, she'd take her father's word over mine. I swear, if Zach wasn't dead, I'd kill him! I trusted that man!"
"Skylar seems to share your good faith in him."
"And to compound our problems, you had to marry her. What the hell were you drinking? I thought Winifred had cured us both of ever seeking any prospects of marriage."
"She did," Tucker insisted. An instant tension seized his spine as the memory of his stepmother's yipping voice calling their father's name echoed in his ears, along with the unpleasant recollection of his father's simpering replies. Sorry, Winifred. Right away, Winifred. It was enough to make a grown man sick.
"Could have fooled me," Chance retorted.
Tucker imagined his twin felt slightly betrayed by his marital slipup. Not only had he broken their pact by getting himself hitched, he'd managed to marry a woman with a stubborn streak as wide and wild as the Rio Colorado.
"What are we supposed to do now, Tuck?"
He followed Chance toward the cabin where his horse was tethered. "She wants proof, we'll give her proof. Once we get to Wyoming she'll see she's wrong and we'll have the marriage annulled. If we gussy her up a bit she could land the first Wyoming man we meet for a husband. Problems solved."
Chance's scathing glare told Tucker he wasn't the least bit convinced. "It's a long way to Wyoming, little brother."
Chance hadn't calmed down one bit when Tucker finally led Rosie into the stable. Sick to death of his brother's obsessive complaining, Tucker felt his jaw clench with tension. Straining to control his temper, he focused his attention on the sunlight streaming through wide cracks in the west side of the barn. The bars of light flickered across his Appaloosa's spotted coat.
The old barn wasn't much in the way of shelter, having cracks just as wide in the rotted wood overhead, but he'd paid next to nothing to occupy this abandoned farm. He'd spent a week reinforcing the fragile shell of the barn just to be sure the whole shooting match wouldn't collapse on his horses when the wind kicked up.
"You've really done it this time, little brother," Chance continued as he led his horse into a stall.
"Would you stop calling me that," Tucker said with a scowl. He led Rosie into the neighboring stall. "You don't know which of us was born first. It wouldn't matter even if you did," he said as he started to remove his saddle. "We've been mixed up so often, neither one of us knew what name to answer to until we were old enough to decide for ourselves."
"It was me," Chance said with infuriating finality. "Did you know Zach was ransacked by one of his own men?"
"Yeah. Garret mentioned that. Backshot him, too."
"Sky seems to think Randal is still headed for Wyoming and plans to squat on our land. She says he knew we were waiting on Zach for the return of the deed and is hoping she got lost in the Arizona desert along with the document. He has big plans to keep those horses and our ranch. Maybe we ought to sell off your mustangs or set them free so we can get back to the ranch as quickly as possible. We're short over a half-dozen men, we don't have—"
"I'm keeping my horses," Tucker cut in.
"—Daines to break your mustangs or the manpower to drive them."
Tucker lifted his saddle from Rosie's back and tossed it onto the railing before he looked back at his brother. "I'm keeping my horses. I didn't just ride out one sunny afternoon and pick them at random, Chance."
"They're vicious and wild as hell!"
"You were the one who suggested we wait for Daines to gentle them!"
"That spotted mare nearly whipped you clean out of your saddle when you lassoed her," Chance continued, obviously trying to take the focus off the fact that this whole mess was all his fault.
Despite his irritation, Tucker smiled as he began to brush his horse. "That skewbald is a spirited one, and the best of the herd. She'll gentle."
A short, rueful laugh broke from Chance's chest as he tossed his saddle blanket and sheepskin over the wood railing. "By the time you gentle that mare, snow will be filling the Colorado passes. Your white stallion's no better. In the two weeks you've been working with him, he's given you more lumps and bruises than you've given him manners."
"He's coming around just fine. We'll get started with the mares first thing in the morning."
"We need to get back to our ranch, Tuck," Chance shouted. "We need to leave within the week!"
Tucker straightened, meeting his brother's hostile gaze. "I don't know why you're shouting at me. You're the one who hired Daines, then sent our deed off with him."
"At the time, it seemed the safest option. I was headed into the badlands to help you with that band of outlaws, remember? Zach had a whole crew of men for protection and I knew he'd get the deed back to us. He signed the contract. I never once doubted he'd be keeping the deed for anything other than collateral for our buying his horses. You're the one who married his daughter. Hell, Tuck, you married her!"
"Do you have to keep saying that?"
"I can't turn my back for ten minutes without you pulling some reckless stunt that lands us in a heap of trouble!"
Tucker glared over his horse at his brother. "We haven't been together a full two weeks and I'm already sick to death of your mothering. Well guess what, Mother Chance, me and my recklessness raked in the pile of money that started the horse ranch we've been dreaming about having since we were twelve."
"True, but there's more to running a ranch than playing with horses. You couldn't hold on to that place for a full year if I didn't do all the tasks that require sitting still for more than five minutes. When I arrived in Wyoming, you were nearly flat broke and didn't even know how many men you had working for us, or any documented financial records."
Yeah. And his system had been a hell of a lot more fun before Chance showed up with all his business protocol and bookkeeping journals. But, truth be told, Tucker wasn't keen on long-term responsibilities. He could read, write and tally numbers just fine, he just didn't like doing that sort of stuff, and he'd never been too good at making himself do things he didn't enjoy. Life was too damn short.
"Things will work out," he said.
"Things will work out?" Chance parroted in a dull tone.
Tucker sensed another fire-and-brimstone lecture coming on. Lord, his brother had surely missed his calling to be a preacher. He turned his back to Chance and focused on grooming his horse.
"I'd feel more at ease if I thought you were the least bit concerned about our situation, or haven't you noticed that all our planning has been shot to hell?"
"Would you stop being such a damn wake-chaser. So we've had a few shifts in our plans," Tucker said with a shrug. "Life doesn't always play out like those long, boring cattle drives you're so fond of, and a bunch of fussing and fretting isn't going to solve our problems."
"I have plenty of cause to be fretting, Tuck. You don't seem to be in a hurry to get back to Wyoming. A few months ago you couldn't wait to get off our place. Frankly, I'm beginning to wonder if you'll be able to handle being tied down to one place for more than a season."
Tucker's gut tightened in a painful knot as he continued to run the brush over Rosie's smooth coat. He'd been asking himself that very question, and he knew Chance sensed his restlessness. After spending the fall building a bunkhouse, stables and fences, he'd developed a serious case of cabin fever over winter. By the end of spring, he was all too happy to spend his summer hunting the band of horses he'd spotted while traveling through New Mexico the year prior, leaving Chance to r
un their newly constructed ranch for a few months.
But he was committed to his brother, to the pact they'd made to each other. He'd find a way to make it work. Leaving Rosie fed and dry, Tucker went to stand before his brother's stall.
"We may drive each other insane, but we're in this together. I'll do what I can with the horses and we'll start for Wyoming within the week. We'll need supplies for the four of us. You want to take care of that?"
Chance gave a sharp nod and resumed grooming his horse.
"You better send word to the ranch when you go for supplies and let Zeke know Randal may be on his way. Trouble's a tad easier to spot when you know it's coming."
"Will do."
Tucker glanced through the open doors to the cabin across the yard. Cold, hard dread settled in his chest. "Chance, is she really as impossible as she seems?"
Chance met his stare. "As a ramrod no one questioned Sky's authority or skill, though none of us knew we were taking orders from a girl."
"Hell."
"Hey, Tuck?" shouted a voice from outside.
"In here, Garret," he called back.
Garret came through the wide double doors with a bedroll tucked under each arm. He stopped as he stepped into the shadows of the barn, his eyes widening as his gaze moved between Tucker and Chance. "Wow. That's plain spooky. One of you should grow a beard or somethin'."
Tucker glanced back at his twin standing inside the stall and realized he, too, had a day's worth of stubble on his chin. "We tried that, but neither one of us could stand having a furry face. What's with the bedrolls?"
Garret shrugged. "Figured I'd find a spot in here for us to bed down tonight."
"You can sleep in the cabin."
He tossed the bedrolls into an empty stall. "Nope. Sky said we're sleeping out here. She also said you two can come in and have supper."
Tucker whipped his gaze toward his brother. His lips stretched into a tight smile. "You hear that Chance? Skylar says we can go eat in our own cabin."
Garret snickered as he walked from the stable.
"What the hell are we gonna do, Tuck?"