Most any other woman from the area wouldn’t, either. Even if they did, they’d find themselves in a strange life that didn’t suit them. Because of that, he’d held back from involving himself with anyone, and for that same reason he’d never courted a woman back in Boston.
He thought of this dilemma far too often, yet he’d been unable to come to a decision about his future. For right this minute, though, he knew what to do. He turned his attention to where it belonged. He needed to hunt up some culprits and make them pay for killing his miners.
“You’re sure that says Bradford?” Chance leaned close.
Her husband’s strength, the warmth of him pressing against her, the masculine smell—it all threatened to distract Veronica from her work.
It hit her hard how blessed she was. She’d come so close to losing him. But here he was, standing sturdy, her precious husband alive and well.
God had been so good to her.
They lived such a different life here. So far from the ranch. And together mostly every minute, living quietly in a small cottage in Denver while Chance’s badly broken leg healed.
There was no comparison to their lives in New Mexico, with both of them working hard all day. Chance mostly outside working cattle and running the ranch. Her inside with Rosita, keeping the home fires burning.
This would almost have been a vacation. Except that someone had tried to kill them—and their fear he might try again—and her children being in terrible danger.
Nope, this was nothing like a vacation.
And the worst of it was their children were facing danger in New Mexico Territory while she and Chance were trapped in Denver fighting for Chance’s leg. It was almost more than Veronica could bear.
King Solomon would be confounded by this mess.
Chance wanted to go home to the CR now! The doctor demanded more time so that the leg would mend completely with no lingering pain and no pronounced limp.
“I’ve told you and told you it says Bradford.” Veronica looked up from the note they’d found on a man who’d tried to kill them here in Denver. They’d thought their troubles were all left behind in New Mexico, but it had followed them all the way up here. And it was written in such a terrible, cramped scrawl that it was proving to be impossible to decipher.
Her husband was a good man. And when Veronica discovered the name Bradford, Chance resisted believing the name was in this note for a very good reason—because he wanted to believe it so badly.
Cole’s grandmother was an old horror. Veronica had met her twice. Such an arrogant woman, well, arrogance could be borne, but her unkindness toward Justin and Sadie while lavishing time, attention, and gifts on Cole was another matter altogether. She’d seen Justin’s confusion when all the gifts came and they were all for Cole. And that was when she was sending packages. Veronica and Chance could help with the sting of that. But when Priscilla Bradford herself had arrived with piles of little-boy gifts for Cole and nothing for Justin, her second son had developed a shield around his heart and acted with gruff disgust like the toys were stupid.
Sadie just cried.
Veronica had wanted to strangle the old bat.
Chance’s feelings were even more intense. He detested the Bradfords right down to the soles of his feet. They’d made him run. He’d gone into hiding to escape them. He remembered that as weakness and shame. Which had only made him loathe them all the more.
As far as the note was concerned—and the note was a long way from being untangled—Chance finally had his revenge. He was proved right after all these years that the Bradfords weren’t just selfish and greedy and rude and unkind. They were evil.
Knowing that gave Chance such intense satisfaction, he was ashamed of it. It was made worse because both Davidson and Priscilla Bradford were dead now. So Chance couldn’t confront them or accuse them—he could only hate.
And that was tough because Cole had loved his grandparents.
“All right then. Their name is in there, but what does it say about those low-down, snooty, child-stealing thieves?”
“You know they didn’t steal him, Chance. Not exactly.” But once they’d found Cole, they’d begged and bribed and promised and lured. And in the end they’d won. At least for the long time they’d had Cole in Boston. Never had Veronica hated it more than when the Bradfords had convinced Cole to come east for college. It broke her heart and scared her to the marrow of her bones that she might never see her son again.
Of course, not her son, not by blood. Cole was Chance’s son by his first wife, the Bradfords’ daughter. Veronica married Chance later when Cole was nearly five, and she’d loved the boy as truly as one born to her.
“To think those two had something to do with all this trouble,” Chance said through gritted teeth, “and they’re dead and beyond my grasp.”
“I know you want to blame all our trouble on them so badly that you’re sure your feelings are a sin.”
“Oh, they are.” Chance clenched his fists and his jaw with equal strength. “My anger can be nothing else.”
“But you’re not a sinner for being glad the Bradfords finally revealed their true colors.”
“Except now we have to tell Cole, and you know how he loves them. He never saw them for the varmints they were.”
“Maybe we don’t have to tell him.”
“I don’t see how we get to the bottom of this without all the facts being made clear.” Chance straightened away from her. “I’ve always disliked them so fiercely.”
“Dislike doesn’t begin to describe it. You hate their guts, admit it, Chance. Especially that old witch Priscilla.”
Chance looked sideways at her and gave her a shrug. “You’re right, but it’s a poor Christian who feels that way. I don’t like to speak of hating someone.”
“Not even someone evil?”
“I grabbed Cole and snuck away rather than stand up to them. They wanted my son and I didn’t think I was strong enough to stop them from taking him, not with all their money and influential friends. I thought then, and I still believe, that if I didn’t slip away and lose myself so they’d never find me, they’d take my son. Which means my hate is based in knowing I’m a coward.”
“You weren’t a coward, you were wise.” They’d had some version of this discussion a hundred times in their married life together. “You saw the lay of the land and you decided not to fight your battle where you’d lose it. By the time the Bradfords found Cole, you were settled. We were married. We had connections in New Mexico Territory, and all theirs were back in Boston. That was land a battle could be won on.”
Chance nodded, but when he spoke it wasn’t to say she’d convinced him of anything. Instead he said, “We have to tell Cole we found his grandparents’ names.”
“And that we found the name of Don Bautista de Val and his wife, Lauressa. I remember her. If the Don was arrogant, the señora thought she was a queen.” Somehow the man who’d been a partner in her father’s land grant was involved in this.
“It’s gonna be about the hardest letter we’ve ever written. I want both of us talking over every word we write. You know how Cole is about the Bradfords—he won’t hear a word against them.”
She knew this was something Chance always carried around, the worry about the Bradfords’ hold on Cole. At least she and Chance had him all his growing-up years. Cole knew they loved him, and he’d always loved them back.
After a long time away, he returned to them. But Veronica always wondered if they really had him. He was much changed from his education and wealth. She knew too, though Cole never said so, there were things about life on the East Coast that he missed.
And now he faced a terrible danger, the kind that a man only faced in the West. Cole was as courageous as any warrior and would stand with them and fight to the end. But what about after the end, when peace was restored? Would he long for a more settled land?
She’d stirred this around in her head for years. What would make her son put dow
n roots at the CR? They’d given him the mines and a free hand to run them. They’d kept quiet while he built his own house in town . . . until Chance had finally snapped and threatened him into moving home. Would Chance’s enforced year of living at home open Cole’s eyes to the legacy of the CR? Or would it drive him away once and for all?
She never stopped wondering what it would take to win him fully to the West.
7
Mel should have punched Cole in the face.
When he leaned into her like that, it looked for all the world as if the man was going to kiss her.
He had no business doing such a thing. She ought to refuse to help him. But for some reason she wasn’t one bit interested in refusing. Which brought her back to convincing Ma and Pa. She practiced what she’d say as she galloped toward home.
Ma, I’m going to live in a miners’ camp with about two dozen men. Maybe more. I didn’t get an exact number. Oh, and I’ll have a cabin by myself.
Mel left Cole believing it was all arranged, which made Cole as big a fool as she was. Now, as she unsaddled her buckskin, she was running out of time to think of the perfect words.
Pa, can I borrow Uncle Walt and three other men?
Pa was already planning that. But they hadn’t planned on her.
Her parents had always let her go her own way. While Sadie Boden had kept mostly to the house and worn pretty dresses and learned to cook and sew and run the lovely home the Bodens had, Mel had been raised as the future owner of the JB Ranch, named for her pa, Jack Blake. Oh, they figured she’d marry, but even then they wanted her to know how to run the ranch she’d inherit.
So her folks had let her run a bit wild by proper rules of behavior, yet they were a long way out, and as the only heir, Mel had to learn. Pa wouldn’t have pushed it if she’d wanted to stay inside more. Still, it suited her to work cattle and live mostly on horseback.
And now she was going to push her parents further than she ever had before. She felt a little sorry for them because she fully intended to do this.
Ma was probably in the house alone. Pa was gone working cattle most of the daylight hours. She strode toward the back door of the tidy log cabin. It was plenty big, but not a bit grand, not like the Bodens’. But that was because her pa and ma were practical people. Pa didn’t want the work of building anything big—and chopping wood to keep it warm—and Ma didn’t want the work of trying to keep a whole territory’s worth of dust out of any more rooms than were necessary.
I’m going to be living alone, and I’m planning to mine for gold.
She stopped for a second, suddenly curious. Would Cole let her keep the gold if she found some? He’d better. If he wanted her to sign a lease, she’d do it. Any gold she personally clawed out of rock, while she was trying to help Cole, should be hers to keep. A strange flare of heat washed over her.
Ma, Pa, I think I have gold fever. I’d like to dig up enough gold to build a mansion and have a dozen servants and silk dresses.
Where had that come from? She didn’t want a mansion. She had no idea what servants would do, unless the “servants” were cowpokes. If she had a mansion, most likely the servants would spend all their time dusting. Smarter to just not build the dad-blasted mansion and skip the need to dust it.
Of course, if the servants were just a fancy word for cowpokes, they could rope and ride along with her. And silk dresses? Where in the world would she ever wear one of those? A cattle drive?
Not likely.
She’d look foolish at church, too, amid the calico and gingham.
That image restored her common sense . . . but even so, the gold lured her, and if she had a touch of gold fever and was going to live at a gold mine, she was going to have to get her parents to go along with it.
She swung the door open and went to look for Ma, still with no idea what she was going to say.
Ma, do gold miners ever wear silk dresses?
She paused to whack herself in the head, then heard a pan clank into something in the kitchen. It had to be Ma. They had no servants, and no rooms for them to live in if they did get some.
She swung open the kitchen door. “Hi, Ma . . . and Pa.”
At that moment she realized she’d been planning to divide and conquer. Ma was going to be hard to convince, but of the two parents, Ma was definitely easier to handle.
Pa surged to his feet, concern etched on his face. “How are things out at the mine? A few of the men came home and told us more details after I left, but we want to hear it again from you.”
Mel remembered the six men who’d lost their lives and all the mental wheedling she’d been doing suddenly seemed foolish. “Cole needs my help. You said a few of our men could go out there.”
“Yes, I told Cole I’d send men over.”
“He’s got five empty cabins, and you’ve got four men to send. This is no time to let strangers around the place. I told him I’m going, too.”
Pa’s brow wrinkled. Ma gasped quietly and narrowed her eyes, watching Mel closely.
“Uncle Walt will go along and you know we have only three other trustworthy hands.”
“I trust my men.” Pa sounded offended.
Nodding, Mel said, “I do too, honestly, but there were two men hired at the Boden ranch who’d come there to spy and cause trouble. Besides our older hands, we don’t really know the men we’ve hired. So yes, I trust them. But not with Cole’s life.”
Pa tipped his head a bit as if to give her that point.
Mel pressed on. “I convinced Cole I’d have a good chance of helping get to the truth. He doesn’t want anyone from the CR because whatever’s going on, they seem to be targeting Bodens, and he can’t be positive there aren’t more outlaws amongst the men at his ranch. Cole thinks they’ve caught all the traitors, but he can’t be completely sure. Besides, whoever’s after them might know men who worked for the Bodens and see right away who was a danger to them.”
“But they wouldn’t know anyone from our ranch,” Pa pointed out.
“The miners there will want to talk to a woman, and Uncle Walt, along with our other hands, will be there to protect me and keep things proper. In fact, Uncle Walt and I will be in cabins only a few paces apart. And many of the miners have wives and children there. It’s not an all-male place like you might imagine, and it’s not that dangerous.”
Not counting dynamite. And shovels used as weapons.
Pa sank back into his chair.
Mel sat down at the table. “You’ve heard some of the trouble the Bodens have faced, but not all. They’ve been thinking all the danger was aimed at taking their land. Now, though, I’m starting to wonder if it’s been about the mines all along. Focusing on the land never made sense, because if they wanted land and were willing to kill for it, why not come and pester us?”
“We’re a big organization,” Pa said with a slow nod.
Ma refilled Pa’s coffee cup and got one for herself and Mel, then sat. The three of them had always been a good team. Right now she needed their help. She needed them to talk this through with her because they always helped her sort out her thoughts.
“Cole and Justin warned you about the possible danger around here, and yet we’ve never had a bit of trouble.”
“Maybe they don’t have enough outlaws to go after two ranches. Maybe we’re next.” Ma got that look in her eye that meant she was ready to grab a gun and start up a war.
It was one of the things Mel liked best about her ma. “All the more reason to help protect the Bodens, so that the varmints pestering them are in jail and can’t turn on us.”
Pa gave her a mighty grim look. “I want to help the Bodens, but I don’t like you up there. Why isn’t Cole staying there?”
Mel wasn’t sure how much they knew about the strange details of Chance’s will, but she quickly told them why Cole couldn’t stay.
“They don’t trust their own hands, and the ones they do trust, they can’t spare. You have to stay here, Pa. If four men and you go to the
mines, there’s no possible way to get the work done. But Cole doesn’t want to spread the word far and wide that there’s danger at his mines.”
Then she added the part she hoped would convince him. “I’m planning to stick close to Uncle Walt’s side. If whoever’s behind this really does want those mines, you know I’m tough. I can shoot as straight as a Comanche arrow. I don’t need anyone to take care of me, but I’ll have four good men doing it anyway. And Cole said the miners he has up there are decent men, many of them married with their wives living nearby. They go home every night to family and supper. It’s only newcomers we have to worry about. I’ll be safe, and it feels like the right thing to do to help neighbors as good as the Bodens.”
Pa stared at Mel for a long moment. Then he turned to Ma. Neither of them looked a bit happy. Mel could tell they were thinking between them, connected without words. They’d always been good at that.
They each looked back at her, and she could tell they’d come to a decision.
Very reluctantly Ma nodded. “We’ve always given you a lot of freedom, and you’ve proven yourself to be wise beyond your years. So we agree, at least for now, that you can go.”
Mel decided not to hang around and give her parents time to come to their senses. “Pa, come with me to talk to the men. I want to get back there and settle into our cabins before nightfall.”
“I’m going to gather a few things for you,” Ma said, “things you’ll be needing, and send supplies for you and all four men. I’ll make up bundles so you won’t have to take a wagon or packhorses.”
Mel hesitated for a second, then went and pulled her ma into a tight hug. “I’ll be careful. You know me. I’m not a reckless woman.”
Ma hugged her back and whispered in her ear, “What I know is, you’re the finest part of my life, Melanie Blake. You be careful. I love you.”
“You go pack some clothes, Mel, leave Ma to get the supplies together. I’ll have a word with Walt.”
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