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When Love Comes

Page 10

by Leigh Greenwood


  Without a word of explanation, she headed straight for the door and out into the yard. She didn’t turn back when her mother called after her. She didn’t slow down when Eddie wanted to know what was wrong. She kept walking until she found herself on the far side of the bull’s pasture. The fat lazy beast was lying down under a tree, chewing his cud as though he didn’t have a care in the world. At that moment he represented everything that had gone wrong with her life: the ranch that was going to fail and leave them bankrupt, this mysterious debt Broc Kincaid said they owed, Gary’s break with the family, Andy’s dislocated shoulder, and the lack of a document that said her father had paid for the bull.

  Yet he was the reason Broc Kincaid had come into her life.

  That thought stopped her. Why would she think Broc had come into her life? He was just a stranger who’d found their bull and had come to collect a debt they didn’t owe. He was passing through, on his way to jail or to the ranch where he worked. He was an ordinary cowhand. He had a ruined face that either shocked or repulsed people. He hadn’t shown any signs that he felt anything more than admiration for her beauty. He’d given no indication he wanted to come into her life. On the contrary, he’d kept his distance and seemed anxious to leave.

  His disfigurement had never upset her. Rather, she’d felt sorry that he’d suffered such a terrible injury, that such a handsome man now had to accustom himself to repelling people. Despite that setback, he was cheerful and appeared to have a sense of humor. Aside from the matter of the debt, he appeared to be honest, unassuming, and willing to help. He had beautiful manners and was as happy talking to Eddie as he was to her. Even though he said he had to collect the debt to keep from going to jail, he’d advised them to give him no money and to go to Crystal Springs to verify what they owed.

  It was possible that these admirable characteristics weren’t the real reason she was so out of sorts. If she was honest with herself, she’d have to acknowledge that she’d never been as physically attracted to any man as she was to Broc Kincaid. Just thinking about being in his arms made her body ache with desire.

  And that realization shocked her. She’d never felt this way before and didn’t understand why she should be feeling this way now. Broc had an outstanding body, strong legs, trim waist, well-muscled shoulders. Lots of cowhands had similarly developed bodies, but theirs didn’t come together in a mesmerizing whole like Broc’s did. The ruined side of his face didn’t cause her to ignore the side that said he used to be an exceedingly handsome man. The scars couldn’t dim the twinkle in his eyes, or the way he had of looking at her as if she were the only person in the universe. Whatever battles he fought in his own mind didn’t impair his cheerfulness or his ability to cause people to feel better just because he was there.

  Most of all she was horrified to acknowledge that her gaze had been drawn more than once to the bulge in his jeans. She’d never thought she had a carnal nature. The discovery came as a shock to her. Yet it also brought with it a low-key sense of excitement that kept her blood simmering. Was this how some of the men in the saloon felt when they looked at her? Did they have disconcerting dreams? Did they feel embarrassed to have so little control over their own minds?

  “This is all your fault,” she said to the bull, “and you don’t care at all.”

  She had to back up. There was plenty of fault to go around. Her mother was to blame for urging her father to buy a ranch they couldn’t manage. Her father for giving up a dependable source of income to feed his wife’s vanity. Gary for not pulling his weight. She supposed she could blame herself for not being more understanding of her mother and brother. Eddie, bless his soul, was probably the only one free of blame.

  She wanted to blame Corby, but it was hard to fault a man who wanted to marry her and take care of all the family problems. She wanted to blame Broc, but he was caught in circumstances not of his making. She had to stop thinking about blame. All that mattered now was figuring a way out of the mess they were in.

  “I guess you’re doing your part by siring as many calves as you can,” she said to the bull. “It’s not your fault we keep losing them.”

  “Why are you talking to the bull?”

  Eddie didn’t look surprised, just curious. Her mother would have thought she was crazy. “I guess because he’s the only living thing close by. Besides, he can’t argue with me.”

  “I won’t argue with you.”

  He looked so worried, she gave him a quick hug. “I’m just irritated. It helps to say things, even if it’s only to a bull.”

  “What are you irritated about? You can tell me.”

  Even if she could have forced herself to divulge her attraction to Broc, she’d never do so to a nine-year-old boy. She nearly blushed at the thought of describing her dreams. She didn’t want to think what her mother would say if she knew.

  “It’s a lot of things,” she said to Eddie, “starting with Gary.”

  “I hate Gary,” Eddie declared.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I love you and Mama. I loved Papa, too, but I hate Gary. I like Leo,” Eddie continued. “Andy not so much. I like Broc, too. Do you like him?”

  This time she did blush. “I don’t know him well enough to be able to answer that, but,” she added before she told a lie, “I think I could like him a lot.”

  “Mama doesn’t like him. She says he’s ugly.”

  “It’s not his fault.”

  “I think he was very brave.”

  She did, too. Strong to survive such an injury, brave to face the world without flinching, courageous to blame no one, wise enough to expect no favors. She’d never found so many wonderful qualities in one man.

  “I want him to teach me how to rope a cow.”

  “You’d better ask Leo. I doubt we’ll see Mr. Kincaid again.”

  “He said he’d teach me.”

  “When?”

  “When I showed him my horses.”

  That was before he’d told them about the debt. “Things have changed.”

  “I know. Gary is acting like an ass, and Mama is mad at you.”

  “Where did you learn such language?”

  Eddie grinned. “From Andy. He cusses a lot when you’re not around.”

  Amanda knew it was inevitable that every boy would learn to cuss. It seemed to be as much a part of the growing-up process as starting to shave. “You’d better not talk like that around Mama.”

  “I’m not crazy.” He acted insulted. “You’re not the only one around here with a brain.”

  She wasn’t sure about that. The way she was reacting to Broc didn’t speak well for her intelligence. It was a good thing she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Unfortunately, not seeing him didn’t mean she would forget him. She had a sinking feeling Broc Kincaid had ruined her for any other man.

  Broc looked across the saloon, his gaze narrowing until he saw only Earl Carruthers. The man looked about as he had expected: big, handsome in a rough way, and exuding a kind of confidence that came with years of getting what he wanted. He didn’t look like the kind of man who would try to badger a widow into selling her ranch, but Broc had learned long ago that you couldn’t judge a man’s character by his looks or his background. Cain and Abel had nursed at the same breast, and Absalom had been beautiful to the eye.

  He wanted to speak to Carruthers, but they didn’t know each other, and he had no business to conduct with the man. Carruthers had no reason to speak to him, even less to tell him anything incriminating. Broc would have to wait for an opportunity to present itself. In the meantime, he could listen. Maybe he could learn something.

  Tonight he found a place near the middle of the bar. Gary scowled at him, then proceeded to ignore him. Broc didn’t say anything, just let a hint of a smile play on his lips.

  “You gonna ask this man what he wants?”

  Broc had been so busy watching Carruthers in the big mirror behind the bar, he hadn’t paid attention to the man sitting at the bar beside him. He wa
s big, stocky, powerful looking.

  “No, I ain’t,” Gary said, sulking. “I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t have to like him,” the man said. “Ask him what he wants.”

  “Don’t bother,” Broc told the man. “I’m not especially thirsty.”

  “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to, but he’s got to ask you what you want.” His long arm snaked out and grabbed Gary by the apron tied around his waist. “Ask this man what he wants before I come around there and see how your head fits in one of them slop buckets.”

  “Is something wrong?” Corby had come up to see what was going on.

  “Your snotnosed bartender won’t ask this man what he wants to drink. That’s what you get for letting kids tend bar.”

  Corby didn’t look any happier to see Broc than Gary did. “I told you I don’t want you around here.”

  “Why not?” the man asked. “What’s he done?”

  “It’s not something I care to make public,” Corby said.

  “I don’t care if it’s made public,” Gary said. “He’s been turning up at our ranch causing trouble.”

  “What’d you do?” the man asked Broc.

  “I found their bull loose,” Broc told the man. “I returned it.”

  “I don’t see nothing wrong with that,” the man said to Gary.

  “He drove my sister home.”

  “I offered when neither you nor Corby would go with her.”

  “Now you’re trying to squeeze money out of us for a debt we don’t owe.”

  “I advised you to go to Crystal Springs and look into the problem before you paid anybody anything.”

  The big man had been turning from Broc to Gary and back with each accusation and each reply. Now he focused on Gary. “I don’t see anything wrong with that. Sounds to me like he did you a service.”

  “I don’t want him doing us any services. I don’t want him anywhere around. It makes me sick to look at him.”

  The big man regarded Broc for a few seconds. “I admit he doesn’t look very pretty, but I doubt it’s something he asked for. In any case, I’d rather look at him than at your sour puss.”

  “Serve him whatever he wants,” Corby said to Gary. “I hope you’ll leave once you’re finished,” he said to Broc.

  “Not very friendly,” the man remarked. “If it wasn’t for that pretty waitress and her singing, I’d never step foot in this place.”

  Gary slapped a beer in front of Broc and turned to help someone else.

  “My name’s Dan Walch,” the big man said. “I ain’t seen you around before.”

  “I’m new in town. Won’t be here long, but it’ll be long enough to need a job. Never could hold on to money very long.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Dan said. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a cowhand.”

  Dan picked up his drink and slid off his stool. “Come with me. I want you to meet my boss.”

  “Who’s your boss?”

  “Mr. Carruthers. He’s right over there.”

  Chapter Eight

  Picking up his beer, Broc followed Dan as he wove his way across the crowded saloon to a table in the corner where Carruthers was seated with three equally prosperous-looking men. The fourth man was the young sheriff.

  “What’s up, Dan?” the sheriff asked. He looked at Broc with raised eyebrows.

  “I wanted to introduce this man to the boss,” Dan said. “He’s a cowhand, and he’s looking for a job.”

  “I didn’t say—” Broc began but Carruthers cut him off.

  “You’ve come to the right place. I run the biggest spread in the county,” he added with a self-satisfied smile.

  “The biggest after mine.”

  Broc turned to find himself facing a man he guessed was Ian Sandoval. He wasn’t as tall or imposing as Carruthers, and his swarthy complexion gave him a Mediterranean look.

  “We’ll find out after roundup.” Carruthers appeared unusually confident his boast would be confirmed. “We’ll be taking a herd up the trail to Abilene,” he said to Broc.

  “I work with a man who’s sent a herd up the last two years.”

  “Would I know him?” Carruthers asked.

  “Probably not. His name’s Cade Wheeler. We served together in the war.”

  “Is that where you got those?” Sandoval pointed at Broc’s scars.

  “My patrol was ambushed in the middle of the night. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  Sandoval asked several questions about the conditions of the troops during the war, wanted a description of one of their raids, and said he appreciated the sacrifice men like Broc had made. Carruthers was obviously uninterested and continued his conversation with the other men. When Sandoval went back to his own table, Carruthers turned back to Broc.

  “I’m hiring men for the roundup and the drive. Dan will tell you how to find your way to my ranch. Be there tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t very clear when I was talking to Dan,” Broc said to Carruthers. “I didn’t say I was looking for a job. I said I’d stayed here long enough that I needed one. A man likes to look around first to make sure he’s got the best scenery.”

  Carruthers’s friendly smile turned to cold scrutiny. “If you’re thinking about working for Grace Liscomb, don’t.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but—”

  “You can’t work for Grace. I won’t let you.”

  Broc had expected Carruthers to argue with him, but he hadn’t expected a flat order not to work for the Liscombs. Just as surprising was the fact that neither of the two prosperous-looking men appeared to find anything wrong with the order. Only the sheriff seemed uneasy.

  “Earl, you can’t tell the man where he can work,” he said.

  “I can, but it wouldn’t make any difference if I didn’t. Grace doesn’t have any money to pay him. I’ll see you at my ranch tomorrow.”

  Broc had never been one to fling down a gauntlet. First, he wasn’t the type to enjoy confrontations. Tempers always got out of hand, and something was said or done that made things worse. Second, he’d learned there were dozens of ways to solve a problem without using force. Also, he enjoyed figuring out what people wanted and giving it to them. He could even make them like something they thought they were going to hate.

  Carruthers’s cold assumption that he could order any man to do as he wished caused Broc to lose any desire to find a way around this man.

  “I’m afraid you’re too late,” he said with a calm he didn’t feel. “I’ve already signed on as foreman for the Lazy T.”

  Now that Broc’s anger had cooled, he kept wondering why he hadn’t just agreed with Carruthers, then failed to show up the next day, but there was something about Carruthers that hit him wrong. Maybe it was the assumption that he deserved to have everything he wanted. Maybe it was Carruthers’s feeling that he had the right to tell other people what they could and couldn’t do. Maybe it was Broc’s certainty Carruthers was the kind of person who would do anything to get what he wanted.

  “You’d think learning to ignore insults about my face would have taught me to keep my mouth shut,” he said to his uninterested horse. “Or at least control my temper so I don’t end up in worse trouble.”

  His horse continued to lope along at a comfortable canter, more interested in getting the man and the saddle off his back than in listening to the ramblings of its owner.

  “Now I’ve got to convince Amanda to give me a job.”

  That wasn’t going to be easy. There were times he thought she trusted him a little, maybe even liked him, but most of the time he felt she would have been happier if he had just disappeared. Most likely he’d have been happier, too. It would be a lot easier to get over his infatuation if he didn’t have to see her every day. It was as if she had become a reference point for his life. That was a foolish mistake. In a short time he was going to have to go back to Crystal Springs and serve his time in jail before going back to his old job. />
  The trouble with that was he wasn’t sure he could go back to his old job and be content. Something had changed, and that something was Amanda.

  How stupid could he be! He was a grown man obsessing over a woman who didn’t like or trust him. What was the advantage of getting older if a little wisdom didn’t come along with it? He was acting like a youngster falling in love for the first time, ignoring common sense, the obvious, even facts. And just what did he expect to accomplish if he did get the job?

  The sound of a rider coming up quickly behind him broke off his dismal train of thought. He pulled his horse to the side of the trail to let the rider pass, but the other man slowed down. Broc was surprised when Dan Walch came alongside. He wondered if Carruthers had sent him.

  “Why did you tell me you wanted a job?” Dan asked. “You got me in trouble with the boss.”

  Dan looked more irritated than angry, which made Broc feel guilty. “I didn’t say I wanted a job. I said I was going to be here long enough to need one.”

  “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

  “The situation is complicated. I apologize for involving you in it.”

  “What’s so complicated about needing a job? You look like an okay fella. I’d welcome you to the crew.”

  “Are you Carruthers’s foreman?”

  “Not exactly, but close enough. You shoulda told me you were foreman at the Lazy T. I never would have taken you over to the boss.”

  That comment gave Broc pause. If Dan was close to being foreman, then he would know just about everything that happened on the ranch, but Broc’s instincts told him Dan was a straight shooter. He might bend a few rules, but he wouldn’t break them. Broc wasn’t ready to trust the man yet, but he needed to be honest with him.

  “The situation is far too complex for me to explain right now, but I don’t actually have that job. I’m headed to the Lazy T right now to see if they’ll hire me.”

  Dan looked at him without understanding.

  “Your boss made me so mad when he said he wouldn’t allow me to work for Mrs. Liscomb, I lost my temper and did something I shouldn’t have.” He seemed to be doing that a lot these days.

 

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