Texas Tender

by Leigh Greenwood

  “I mean I can’t find him,” Carl Ellsworth said. “We should have penned him up.”

  “He can’t impregnate cows locked in a pen.”

  “Well, we can’t sell a bull we don’t have.”

  “We own him no matter where he is. We just have to locate him before Mr. Haskins gets here.”

  Idalou was six inches shorter than her brother’s even six feet, but that in no way affected her position as the older of the two and the one responsible for him as well as the ranch. Having the body of a man hadn’t given Carl the emotions or reasoning ability of a man. If it had, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with the only daughter of the man who was determined to destroy them.

  “Do you have any suggestions?” Carl demanded angrily.

  “Ride over to Jordan McGloughlin’s place and tell him to show you where he hid our bull.”

  Carl’s exasperation nearly got the best of him. “I know you don’t like me having anything to do with Mara, but that’s no reason to think her father has our bull.”

  “My thinking Jordan McGloughlin has the bull has nothing to do with you liking Mara, though I’ve got plenty to say on that score.”

  “I’ve already heard it,” Carl snapped.

  “It has to do with Jordan doing everything he can to force us to sell this ranch,” Idalou said, ignoring her brother’s comment. “He knows the money from the bull will tide us over for the next two or three years.”

  She had tried to talk her father out of mortgaging everything he owned to buy an expensive bull to upgrade his stock, but her father had decided it was the only way he could compete with the larger ranchers on either side of him, McGloughlin to the east and north and Sonnenberg to the west and south. His plan might have worked if Idalou’s father and mother hadn’t died three years ago.

  “I want to keep the ranch as much as you do,” Carl said, “but it doesn’t help to have you accusing Mara’s dad of everything bad that happens.”

  “I wouldn’t blame him for trying to buy our ranch if he weren’t so underhanded about it,” Idalou snapped. “I don’t know how you can have anything to do with Mara. She’s likely to turn out just like her father.”

  Carl grabbed his hat and jammed it on his head. “If you weren’t blind when it comes to anybody named McGloughlin, you’d know Mara is the sweetest girl on the face of the earth,” he shouted. “I can’t help it if you were in love with Webb before he went and got himself killed.”

  Idalou bit her tongue to keep from saying something she’d have to apologize for later. “I’ve told you a hundred times I wasn’t in love with Webb.”

  “You sure as hell acted like it until he took up with Junie Mae Winslow.”

  Webb had taken pride in being able to ride the toughest horses anyone could find. A fall from a rogue horse had ended up being fatal when his head hit a rock and he was knocked unconscious. He died a week later without ever waking up. His father hadn’t been the same since.

  “Try sweetening that temper of yours so you won’t run Mr. Haskins off before I can get back,” Carl said. “You don’t have to tell me again how hard things have been since Mom and Dad died. I know all that. I also know you took it real hard when Webb turned his back on you. I know you’re worried about the ranch, and you’re worried about me falling in love with a girl who may never marry me. But,” he added after taking a big breath, “you’re never going to get a man to look at you twice if you don’t stop treating them all like they’re out to steal our last nickel.” His frown eased and he smiled. “You’re a great gal, Idalou. You’d make some man a wonderful wife if you’d give yourself a chance.”

  Carl took advantage of Idalou’s momentary silence to leave the house before she could launch her rebuttal. Jordan McGloughlin’s cows had been straying onto their land, eating their grass, mating with their bull, drinking their water. Everybody knew longhorns were wild creatures that didn’t understand the concept of ranch boundaries. However, Idalou was certain Jordan had instructed his hands to encourage his cows to wander onto Double-L land. It was all part of his campaign to force her to sell.

  Idalou walked to the doorway of their small house and watched as her brother mounted up and rode off on his favorite pinto mare. He had the height and strength of a man, but she supposed she’d never stop thinking of him as a younger brother she needed to take care of. She didn’t want to do anything to discourage him from growing into a confident adult, but he was too emotional, too willing to see good in others without noticing the bad as well. He worked as hard as she did to hold things together, but they both knew it would be a tough fight even with the money they’d get for the bull.

  Their father had been a dreamer, and having his own ranch had always been his ambition. He’d gambled with the future of the family when he’d mortgaged the ranch to buy that bull. Idalou had thought it was too much of a gamble and had tried to talk him out of it, but her mother had sided with her husband.

  “It’s been his dream since before we got married,” she’d told her daughter. “How could I possibly ask him to set it aside?”

  Now Carl was gambling with his own future by falling in love with Mara McGloughlin. Everybody knew her father would never allow them to marry. Jordan McGloughlin had made it plain he wanted Mara to marry Van Sonnenberg. Combining the two spreads would create one of the biggest ranches in Texas. The Double-L ranch stood in the way of that ambition, just as Carl stood in the way of Mara’s marriage to Van.

  Idalou turned back inside, the enforced idleness irritating her. If she hadn’t had to wait for Will Haskins, she would have been out searching for the bull herself. She’d already straightened up their small sitting room and made her preparations for supper. Her bedroom was always neat, and she didn’t bother with Carl’s room regardless of the chaos. The washing was done, the chickens fed, and the eggs gathered. She’d have to milk the cow and pen the chickens before nightfall, but she would do that after Mr. Haskins left.

  She couldn’t help wondering what he was like. It was rumored the Maxwell family owned half the Hill Country. She hoped it was true. She wanted them to be rich enough to pay a lot for the bull. The decision to sell had been agonizing. The calves the animal fathered had been intended to be the future of the ranch. But there wouldn’t be any future for the ranch if they didn’t sell him. Ironic.

  Unable to stand the inactivity any longer, Idalou took the slop bucket from the kitchen, left the house through the back door, and headed toward the hog pen where a sow nursed half a dozen piglets. At least they’d have meat for the winter. If either she or Carl had the time to gather berries and wild grapes, she’d make jam. Their father had planned to plant fruit trees, but had never gotten around to it.

  She had just emptied the slop bucket into the feed trough and turned back toward the house when she saw a rider approaching the house. It was impossible to tell anything about him with the sun in her eyes, but it had to be Mr. Haskins. Just her luck. She’d waited inside like a proper lady for the last hour only to have him arrive when she was slopping the hogs. Why didn’t men get anything right? She couldn’t decide whether to stay where she was, go to meet him, or return to the house and wait until he knocked on the door.

  Deciding to meet him in the house, she hurried inside, washed her hands, checked to make sure she hadn’t dirtied her dress, then made last-minute adjustments to her hair in a small mirror on her bedside table. By then she heard his boots on the front porch. She opened the door and completely lost her ability to move or speak.

  “Howdy, ma’am,” the man said with a smile that practically obliterated the sunset. “I’m Will Haskins.”

  She knew he was real, but no man could look like that. It simply wasn’t possible.

  “I’m here to see about buying your bull,” he said when she didn’t respond.

  How could she think about anything as mundane as selling a bull when she couldn’t breathe?

  “You did get my letter, didn’t you? Did I get the day wrong? Isabelle says I ne
ver can keep things straight.”

  She had to think, to speak, to do something besides stand there staring at him like she was a stuffed dummy.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I saw you out next to the hog pen when I rode up. Maybe you were in the heat too long.”

  “I am feeling a little dizzy.” She was feeling so weak she was about to faint.

  “Maybe you’d better sit down,” he said, eyeing their small parlor. “Would you like some water?”

  She had to get control of herself. She wasn’t a silly girl who would fall speechless at the sight of a handsome man. Instead, she was twenty, a woman of experience. There was no reason for her to act like a brainless ninny just because this man was twice as good looking as she’d ever thought possible.

  She allowed Mr. Haskins to lead her into the parlor and persuade her to take a seat on a small sofa. “I would appreciate some water if you don’t mind,” she said.

  “I’ll be back in two shakes of a coyote’s tail.”

  She didn’t take her first full breath until he’d left the room. It wasn’t his clothes, even though the tan shirt, off-white vest, and faded pants were clean and neat. It wasn’t his hat, which was almost new, or his boots, which had obviously been cleaned that morning. Nor was it the way those clothes fit his tall, muscular body. It was his face that had brought her nervous system to the edge of breakdown. If any man could be considered absolutely perfect, maybe even beautiful, it was Will Haskins.

  How was a woman supposed to think straight around him? She was only human. Men like him shouldn’t be allowed. She wouldn’t be surprised to wake up tomorrow and find she’d offered to give him the bull.

  “Here we are,” he announced as he returned to the parlor, a glass of water in hand.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the glass with an unsteady hand. “I’m sorry to make such a pitiful appearance. I assure you I don’t usually act like . . . feel this way.” Drink. If you’re swallowing, you can’t talk.

  “Don’t worry your head about it.” He settled into a chair directly across from her. “Isabelle says if God had been thinking about a woman’s comfort, he’d never have created Texas.”

  He grinned, and she choked on her water.

  “She also says no man who loves his wife would force her to stay in Texas, but you couldn’t drag her out of the Hill Country with a double team of oxen. She just likes teasing Jake.”

  Idalou couldn’t follow his conversation, but she didn’t care how much he rambled as long as it kept her from having to speak.

  “I’m glad we don’t have this kind of heat in the Hill Country. It’s hard to think when it’s this hot.”

  It was impossible to think when he smiled at her, his eyes more blue than the summer sky, his smile dazzling in its brilliance. What right did a man have to look like this? How many women were homely because God had used so much beauty to make this one face?

  “You get used to the heat after a while,” she managed to say.

  Mr. Haskins made himself comfortable. Considering how easily she’d been overpowered by his looks, it was a good thing he wasn’t a demanding guest.

  “I expect so.”

  Idalou took another swallow of water. The very ordinariness of the process of swallowing seemed to help her regain her balance, her sense of being in control of her mind and body. “I should have been the one to ask if you wanted anything to drink.”

  “Thanks, but I stopped off at the Swinging Door to cool off and ask directions. I had a beer while I was there. I can’t say I care for all the company, but it seems like a nice place.”

  She wondered who had failed to meet his approval and why.

  “Would you like some coffee instead?”

  His laugh was easy, invited her to laugh with him. “I know it’ll make you doubt I’m a true Texan, but I can’t drink coffee in this weather.”

  “I can drink it in any weather.”

  “So can Isabelle. I don’t think Jake could function with it.”

  “Are they your parents?”

  “Yep.”

  “Forgive me if I’m being rude, but why do you call them by their first names?” If he didn’t stop smiling at her, she was going to have a relapse.

  “My real parents died when I was very small. I’d been calling Jake and Isabelle by their first names before they adopted me and my brother. It was easiest to keep doing it.”

  Idalou couldn’t believe she was sitting here making small talk with a stranger. She never did that, not even with other women. She’d been accused of being too direct, too businesslike, even unfeminine.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering why I haven’t gotten down to business,” she said.

  “No hurry,” he said. “It’s a short ride back to town, so we’ve got plenty of time.”

  Well, she didn’t have plenty of time. She didn’t have a father who practically owned a whole county. She couldn’t afford to hire dozens of men to help with her work. She could barely pay their two cowhands. “You’ll probably learn before long that I have a reputation for being impatient.”

  “I’m sure it’s undeserved.”

  “No. It’s well deserved.”

  “Then I’m sure you’re impatient in a very nice way.”

  “Are you always like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Relaxed. Accommodating. Uncritical.”

  “It’s much easier than getting my stomach in a knot.”

  “Don’t people get irritated with you?”

  “All the time, but I don’t let it bother me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want it to.”

  He said that like it was the most logical thing in the world.

  “Besides, my brother gets agitated enough for both of us.”

  “I’d like to talk about the bull.”

  “I’d better see it first.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  His startled look took more energy than anything he’d done so far. “Surely you don’t expect me to talk about price without even looking at the animal.”

  She didn’t like having to tell him she didn’t have the bull. It embarrassed her, made her feel less in control, less competent. She unclenched her hands in her lap. “Of course not, but he’s not here.”

  “That’s okay. We can ride out to see him.”

  “I don’t know where he is right now.”

  Mr. Haskins’s gaze narrowed. “Do you mean he’s wandered off and you’ll find him in a little bit, or you’ve lost him and have no idea where he is?”

  “I know where he is, but not where to find him.”

  His brow knitted. “I know I’m not very smart, but that doesn’t make sense. You’d better explain it.”

  “Our neighbor Jordan McGloughlin took the bull. He’s trying to force me to sell him my ranch. He knows I need the money from the sale of the bull to keep going until the first calves can go to market. My brother is out looking right now, but he’s mooning over McGloughlin’s daughter and refuses to believe our neighbor would do anything like that.”

  Mr. Haskins got to his feet. “That’s no problem, ma’am. I’ll just ride back to town and wait until your brother finds the bull. Or until you and Mr. McGloughlin come to an understanding. I think I can give you at least a week to work things out.”

  “I don’t want you to go back to town,” Idalou said, getting to her feet as well. “I want you to ride over to McGloughlin’s place with me and force him to tell me what he’s done with the bull.”

  He looked at her as if she’d just asked him to steal the gold candlesticks from the church altar. “Sorry, ma’am, but I can’t do that.”

  Chapter Two

  His answer was so unequivocal, so unexpected, Idalou could only stare. After he’d been so concerned about her momentary weakness, even thoughtful enough to bring her water, it had never occurred to her that he would refuse to help her. “Why? Are you afraid of him?”

  “Why should I
be afraid of a man I’ve never met?” His lazy smile had reappeared. “He could be old and crippled, even blind.”

  “He’s in excellent health, not yet fifty, and likes nothing better than spending his day in the saddle riding herd on his crew.”

  “Sounds a lot like Jake, and I have great admiration for Jake.”

  “I should hope Jake wouldn’t steal his neighbor’s bull.”

  “No, ma’am. If he had, I wouldn’t be here looking to buy yours. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Jake had his eye on that bull when your father slipped in and bought it right out from under him. He had a lot of things to say about your father’s character.”

  Idalou took immediate offense. “My father was an honest and respected man.”

  “That’s what Isabelle said, but Jake needed to work out his frustration on somebody. Since he didn’t know your father, it seemed harmless enough to say a few mean things about him. He wasn’t happy to have to buy a bull he didn’t like as much.”

  Idalou was beginning to question whether Mr. Haskins had traded sanity for good looks. She was also starting to wonder about Jake and Isabelle. She was gradually recovering from her stupefaction over Will Haskins’s looks. It was a lot easier to cope with overwhelming handsomeness when the person’s character was flawed, and Idalou suspected this man’s character was in need of serious rehabilitation.

  “We really can’t conduct any business until we recover the bull,” Idalou said.

  His lazy smile didn’t change. “You’re right, ma’am.” He turned toward the door. “Since you’ve got things to do, I’ll get out of your way.” He stood, settled his hat on his head, and started for the door.

  “You really aren’t going to help me, are you?”

  He turned back. “I’d be in a heap of trouble if I made a habit of sticking my nose in things that were none of my business.”

  “I would think seeing that the people with power don’t take advantage of those without it would be the responsibility of every respectable man.”

  “It is, ma’am.”

  “Would you stop calling me ‘ma’am’? You make me sound like somebody’s grandmother. My name is Idalou.”