“You have a ranch, Wade. Could you give it up?”
His head snapped. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? It’s not making you rich.”
Her words stung, because, dammit, they were true. “Because I love it. Because—”
“It’s a part of you. It’s no different for me. I’d never ask you to give up the ranch. It’s your legacy, and it’s who you are.” A tear slipped out and she wiped it. “I’d work with you on the ranch. I’d stay no matter how little money it earned because, without it, you wouldn’t be who you are.” Her chin rose. “And I won’t accept less than the same in return.”
She pulled on the reins.
Knowing there was nothing more to be said, Wade opened his hand and let her go.
Chapter Fourteen
Jillian rode low and let Hope fly. The trees and grass were a large green blur as they raced toward home. Of course speed was only one reason for the blurry image. The other was the tears tumbling from her eyes.
What a fool she’d been! Until meeting Wade, she’d been single-minded in her thinking. She wanted to be a veterinarian. Everything she’d done from the time she’d made the decision as a young girl was toward that purpose. To think she’d considered compromising that for a man, a man who would never consider her worthy!
The tears flowed from the corner of her eyes into her ears. Hope’s hooves pounded the ground. Jillian was indifferent to it all but the tearing sensation in her heart. When her little house came into view, Jillian didn’t ease her speed, but she did pull the rifle out of the scabbard. If someone was there, he’d picked the wrong time to threaten what was hers.
But other than Zeke, the calf and its mother, the yard was empty. As Jillian finally reined Hope in, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed. She might have been scared earlier. But, right then, she was more than ready to defend herself.
With the rifle within arm’s reach, Jillian removed the saddle, bridle, and blanket. Then, with the fingers of one hand curled in the halter and her weapon in the other, she walked Hope around the small yard until they’d both cooled off.
In the barn, she brushed her horse, praised her, and fed her. Once the tack was put away, she grabbed the gun and went into the house. She wasn’t hungry but she’d left the blankets and pillows on her bed. Her plan to sleep in the barn hadn’t changed.
The house was unchanged; nothing had been disturbed. Jillian took the covers and made herself a bed in Whiskers’ now empty stall. She didn’t linger, simply moved his cage outside, lit and hung a lantern, and made herself a pallet. She did her evening chores, availed herself of the outhouse.
Keeping everything on but her shoes, Jillian crawled underneath her covers. The barn door was closed and secured. Her gun was beside her bed. The lantern filled her stall with soft light. Around her the animals shuffled in their pens, crunched their food.
Animals had always been a refuge for her. They didn’t judge, didn’t criticize. She could be around them and be herself and for the most part they welcomed her.
“Unlike this stupid town,” she muttered.
From the first they’d heard of her, before most of them had even met her, they’d judged. Judged and, like Wade, found her lacking. She’d been polite and tried to win them over. And what had it gotten her?
Nothing. She had no work. Her property had been damaged. She was worried enough about her animals to sleep in a barn. The man she’d given her body to couldn’t accept her for who she was. And her money was drying up faster than a drought-ridden prairie.
She couldn’t afford to stay much longer. While she’d made good friends, and she knew how hard true friends were to find, she couldn’t stay for them. After Eileen and James’s wedding, if she hadn’t had work, she’d need to move on. If Marietta couldn’t find a way to accept her, then she needed to find a place that would.
*
By the time Wade left Annabelle’s room he was exhausted and had a thumping headache. He’d explained about Steven, how they had to be careful for a while. How she couldn’t wander off without telling anyone again.
She’d apologized, explained why she’d gone to Jillian’s to begin with, and how they’d spent time in the barn before heading back to the ranch. Wade had been furious to hear this. Knowing Jillian had kept Annabelle in her barn for nearly an hour when she had to know he’d be worried sick, and knowing Steven or one of his friends was crazy enough to come after her, reinforced his decision.
His daughter was better distanced from Jillian.
He poked his head in the kitchen. All was quiet. It wasn’t completely dark outside yet but his ma had left a lantern burning low on the table. It cast flickering shadows on the log walls. His mind full, Wade turned down the light and stepped outside. The swing creaked and Scott came to his feet.
He grabbed a couple fishing poles he’d set against the railing. “Thought you could use a little distraction.”
What Wade could use was a whiskey but, since Scott didn’t drink, Wade accepted the pole and followed his friend to the river. Scott had dug up worms and he settled the jar of crawly creatures between them.
Wade baited the hook, tossed the line in the gently flowing water. Scott was a bit more selective with his worms but his line plopped in not long after.
“I haven’t changed my mind about the horse ranch,” Wade said after a few minutes.
“I knew you wouldn’t have.” Scott pulled in his line then calmly let it out again. “But, out of curiosity, have you noticed Jillian’s filly?” Scott whistled. “I bet a colt out of that one, especially if we bred her with Whiskey, would be a hell of an animal. Likely bring in a nice profit.”
“Dammit, Scott.” He could see it. It was so clear it made his heart yearn. “I told you I can’t.”
Scott looked over his shoulder. “And having a wife with Jillian’s skills would come in real handy.”
“I’m not marrying Jillian to save money on vet bills!”
“Of course not, you’ll marry her because you love her. The vet bills are just gravy.”
“Jesus.” Wade pinched the bridge of his nose.
He wished… hell, he didn’t even know what to wish for anymore but it seemed there wasn’t much point in praying for peace and quiet since it seemed in damn limited supply these days.
“Jillian and I won’t be seeing any more of each other.”
“Why? You hit your head on a rock and lost all good sense?”
“Look, I already had this argument once today with Jillian. We aren’t suited and that’s all there is to it.”
“Who says you aren’t suited? You or her?”
“Scott—”
“It’s not a hard question, Wade. You or her?”
He dropped his hand. “Me. All right?”
“Tell me you don’t agree with Steven.”
“I’d never hurt her!” Wade exclaimed.
Around them the crickets went silent.
“But you don’t think she should be doctorin’ either? Why, when she’s clearly remarkable at it?”
“Ma was always there for me,” he said after a while. “I never had to worry that she wouldn’t be there at the end of the day, that she wouldn’t come home.”
“What happened to Amy was an accident, Wade. It doesn’t mean the same thing would happen to Jillian.”
Wade gave up the illusion of fishing and tossed his pole aside. “But it could and I can’t take that chance. I’ve got my hands full with the ranch. I give Annabelle what time I can, make more when I need to, but it’s not the same as having a ma she can count on.”
“Annabelle has you, me, your ma, James. Even if Jillian had to leave to tend an animal, your daughter would hardly be abandoned.”
Maybe not. But he’d been helpless to keep Annabelle from losing her mother at such a young age. The least he owed her, when he did decide to remarry, was to give her a mother who would be there for her. Who wasn’t in danger—not only from the town but also by the very profession she’d cho
sen.
“She deserves a mother who’ll be with her.”
“Oh, for the love of God.” Scott threw his pole next to Wade’s. “There are things more important in life than who will cook her damn breakfast!”
Wade gaped as his usually affable friend went hot under the collar.
“Let me tell you what Annabelle needs. She needs love, respect, and to know that she’s safe.”
When Wade had accepted the fishing pole he’d expected a little quiet camaraderie by the river, he hadn’t expected to get torn into. It turned his already foul mood rancid.
“And how would you know this?” Wade demanded. “You have ample experience with children you’ve kept to yourself all these years?”
Scott’s face went hard as the rocks that poked out of the river. “I’d have given anything for what Annabelle has. A real home. A family. A father she knows and adores. I’d have given anything for a mother who loved me enough to leave me the hell alone!”
Scott had never mentioned his past before and he looked as surprised to have said it as Wade was to have heard it. Scott wiped his mouth with his sleeve, took in great gulps of air. Wade wasn’t sure what to say or do and Scott’s silence didn’t help.
Finally Scott nodded to the poles. “You mind taking those back?”
“Uh, no,” Wade answered.
But it was too late; he was already talking to Scott’s back.
*
Wade stayed by the river a little longer. With Scott gone, he was finally alone to dwell on everything that had gone on today. He lay back on the grass, watched the stars emerge, and tried to lasso his wandering thoughts.
Scott’s words resonated in his ears. What did he mean by he wished his mother had loved him enough to leave him alone? Hell, since Scott was so tight-lipped about his past—the only thing he’d ever said was he was from Colorado—Wade figured he’d been orphaned or some such thing. Instead, it sounded like that might have been a better alternative.
Which brought Wade around to Scott’s other words. That all a child needed was to be loved, to feel safe, and to have a home. Annabelle had all of those things, he’d seen to it. But unlike Scott who didn’t seem to have happy memories of being a youngster, Wade did. He could look back and remember his ma kissing his scrapes, his ma helping him read, his ma kissing his forehead at night, long after he’d told her he was too big to be kissed by his ma.
Annabelle had had all that with Amy. Until Amy had decided to be a midwife. Then, there’d been checkups, long nights of delivering a baby, follow-up visits to ensure mother and child were doing fine. She’d missed meals. She hadn’t always been back by Annabelle’s bedtime. Then the accident happened and she hadn’t been there at all.
He’d heard what Scott said but it didn’t change Wade’s mind.
He’d promised himself when Amy died that he’d always do his best by Annabelle. And no matter that he felt the same for Jillian as she’d professed to feel for him, the truth remained that she wasn’t what was best for either him or his daughter.
*
It was a simple plan, but that didn’t make it easy. In the hours Jillian had lain awake, listening to her animals and mulling over her situation, she’d made some decisions. Firstly, while she could certainly keep her animals safe at night by sleeping in the barn, she couldn’t always be home, nor she did she intend on sleeping in the barn indefinitely.
Hope, and the dog if she found one, would be as safe as Jillian could make them. She’d lock Hope in the barn at night and during the day if she left her property, she’d have both the horse and dog with her. That left Zeke and Rascal vulnerable.
And she wouldn’t have them killed because of her.
So after folding her bedding and tossing it over the rail, Jillian went into Rascal’s pen. His masked face peered at her. His little hands pressed on the bars.
“You want out? Well, you’re about to get your wish.”
She dragged his cage outside, unwound the wire that was holding the door closed. It was bittersweet, saying goodbye. On the one hand, she’d always felt he was a wild animal that shouldn’t be caged, but on the other, she loved the way he looked at her. The chattering noises he made when she brought him food or talked to him.
“Now don’t be coming in the house and making a mess or you’ll be right back where you started.” Or worse, if whoever bought Jillian’s house once she moved on wasn’t as forgiving as she was.
Maybe he’d learned his lesson; time would tell. But he looked from the cage to the house, house to cage as though he understood one would lead to the other. Then with a twitch of his pointed nose, he ambled for the trees.
Zeke wouldn’t be as simple to deal with but Jillian had little doubt that by the end of the day, he’d have a home. In the meantime, she stored Rascal’s cage with Whiskers’ empty one and, with the shotgun handy, went about her morning chores.
Within two hours, she was clean, dressed, and had saddled Hope. She’d fashioned a collar for Zeke and tied one end of a rope to it and the other end to Hope’s saddle. It would take longer to walk to town that way, but it would guarantee the animal’s safety.
As for the cow and calf, she just had to hope they’d be safe for a few hours. Since the cow had milk and the heifer could be sold come fall, Jillian could only pray that, if anything, they’d be stolen rather than hurt.
Apparently Monday mornings meant brisk business in Marietta. Several wagons rattled by. A stagecoach was loading in front of the post office. Already its roof was half-filled with trunks and bags. With school now through until fall, children of varying heights walked alongside their mothers while the younger ones toddled along the boardwalk, their little fists clasped in their mother’s long skirts.
Jillian had always drawn stares but she drew more than usual when she rode in with Zeke. Usually, she smiled at everyone but she didn’t have the heart to this morning. Shane stepped out of the sheriff’s office as she rode by. For him, she fashioned a smile, pulled Hope to a stop.
Shane looked at Zeke. “A goat isn’t much in the way of protection.”
Jillian accepted his help down. “I can’t protect him when I’m not home. I kept him because he was left to me but I don’t want him hurt. I was hoping someone might take him.”
He tipped his hat up. “Can’t say I know anybody. Anyhow, I’m glad you’re here.” He glanced around but there were a lot of folks rambling the street. “Come inside for a minute, I have some news.”
In the jailhouse, Shane perched on a corner of his desk. Jillian settled in a chair.
“Steven’s friends deny killing your rabbit.”
“I hardly expected them to admit it.”
“Maybe not, but I’m a good judge of folks. Of them all, I’m most likely to believe it was Bill, the stable owner.”
“But you said he denied it.”
“He did, but I spoke to his wife. She claims she heard Bill leave the room that night. Of course he says he just went to the outhouse.”
“Was he gone long? Maybe if he didn’t come right back…”
Shane shook his head. “I thought of that. She said she fell back asleep and has no idea how long he was gone.”
“Have you asked Harvey Black?” Jillian told Shane about her visit to his place and his comment about dealing with animals if he needed to.
“I went over there but he wasn’t home. Steven didn’t think he was back from Bozeman yet.”
So he had gone to advertise for her replacement. Well, it seemed as though her future was set no matter what she wanted. Her time in Marietta was coming to an end. Still, if she was going to be forced out, she wanted to know the rest.
“It was all Steven then? I mean, other than killing Whiskers?”
“The lost feed and the dress were. He told me it was Justin who moved the saddle. He’s claiming he has no idea about the rabbit and his friends deny any involvement.”
“Well, Whiskers’ neck didn’t snap itself.”
Shane held up a hand
. “I’m not done with them, Jillian. I’ll be talking to their wives when they’re at work. I’ll also be checking in on them here and there throughout the day. They’re going to get good and sick of me with the amount of time I’ll be spending watching them. Hopefully, that’ll be enough to leave you alone.
“And I haven’t forgotten about Harvey. He’ll be back soon, so I’ll keep checking on him as well.” He paused. “It’s all I can do, Jillian. Hopefully it will be enough.”
It might make the attacks stop, but it wouldn’t assure she’d get work. Yet she appreciated Shane’s efforts and thanked him before stepping outside.
A little girl was crouched next to Zeke, and she giggled when he tried to nibble her skirt. Her mother watched, a warm smile of adoration on her face.
“His name is Zeke and don’t let his handsome looks fool you, he’ll eat that skirt until it’s gone if you let him,” Jillian said.
The mother grabbed her daughter’s hand. “I’m sorry; she saw the goat and ran over.”
“You think he’s handsome?” the little girl asked.
Jillian knelt close. “Of course he is. Look at those big brown eyes of his, and the smart grey whiskers on his chin.”
“And these things,” the little girl said, touching the two loose furry growths that hung from each side of the neck.
“Those are called wattles,” Jillian said.
“Really?” her mother asked, looking in closer. “I never knew that.”
Jillian looked at her, smiled. “I didn’t either until my father taught me. He was a veterinarian as well,” she added.
The woman nodded, placed a hand on her daughter’s bonnet. “You learned at his side?”
“I did.” Jillian straightened then shifted to keep the sun from her eyes. “My fondest memories are of times we spent together.”
“He’s passed?”
“Yes,” Jillian admitted. Her heart squeezed briefly. “Earlier this spring.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. Come, Ruth,” she said to her daughter. “It’s time to go.”
“But, Mama.”
“Ruth,” she said. “We’ve kept Miss Matthews long enough.”
A Rancher’s Surrender Page 21