Texas Tender

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Texas Tender Page 7

by Leigh Greenwood


  “We’re lucky to be on the edge where the soil changes from limestone clay to red or brown clay,” Carl was saying. “Because we have the darker clay, we have more substantial soil, which gives us better grass.”

  “Little good it does when McGloughlin’s cows come over and eat it up before our own cows can,” Idalou commented.

  “We have the only dependable water, too.”

  “At least McGloughlin’s stock hasn’t been able to drink it all up,” Idalou said.

  They’d been following a beautifully clear creek whose pure spring waters sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. Tiny fish darted to safety among the large stones that caused the water to rush and tumble with a satisfying murmur. A scattering of mature trees— pecan, ash, oak, and cottonwood—shaded the banks and created thickets along with mesquite, hackberry, and black willow that provided food and shelter for a wide variety of birds and small rodents. A cowbird strutted nonchalantly in the open, ignoring a hawk that circled overhead, depending on the large body of a three-year-old steer for protection while it fed on weed seeds or insects stirred up by the steer’s hooves as he searched for grass among the cactus, sage, and various thorny bushes.

  “We get most of our rain in the fall,” Carl was saying, “so we have a dam that helps us through spring and early summer.”

  “What about the other ranches?” Will asked.

  “McGloughlin and Sonnenberg have water of their own, but we never cut off the flow,” Idalou said. “Dad said that would be unfair and certain to cause trouble.”

  They had passed two dry streambeds that joined the creek, one from each of the neighboring ranches.

  “The late summer rains will start soon,” Carl said. “Until then, the other ranchers depend on wells.”

  Will was getting a much better picture of the basis for the Double-L’s trouble with its neighbors. Better grass, better soil, and the only dependable water.

  “Has Frank Sonnenberg put any pressure on you to sell to him?” Will asked. They had stopped under the widespread limbs of a live oak to give their horses a breather.

  “He offered us more than McGloughlin for the land, but he didn’t get angry when I told him we didn’t want to sell,” Idalou said. “Van helped Carl repair the corral fence. He even told us how to make the dam stronger.”

  “He’s always been nice to you,” Carl said to his sister, “but I don’t like him. I think he wants to marry you.”

  “His father intends for him to marry Mara. Joining their two ranches would make the combined spread one of the largest in Texas. That’s another reason they’re so anxious to buy our ranch. They want to get rid of me so Van won’t be tempted to marry me, and get rid of Carl so Mara can’t marry him.”

  “If you were good enough for Webb, you’re certainly good enough for Van,” Carl put in.

  “Who’s Webb?” Will asked, struggling to keep up with this complex weaving of interests and motivations.

  “Mara’s brother,” Carl said. “He and Idalou were sweet on each other until he got himself killed.”

  Idalou blushed slightly and looked away. Did that mean she was still carrying a torch for this dead guy? Will wondered. If he was as handsome as Mara was pretty, Will wouldn’t be surprised. Handsome, rich, and probably nice was a powerful combination. A woman could be forgiven for still thinking about a man like that. Will was able to attribute his irritation at Van’s interest in Idalou to thinking the man was basically unworthy to marry any decent woman, but why should he be jealous of a dead man?

  “Nothing was ever put into words,” Idalou said. “Being neighbors, it was natural we’d see a lot of each other.”

  “It was more than that, and you know it,” Carl insisted. “At least it was until Junie Mae came to town and Webb got a good look at her.”

  “Well, he did meet Junie Mae,” Idalou said, not looking away this time. “We’ve gotten completely off the subject. We ought to show Will the dam.”

  The dam—constructed in a narrow neck where the stream passed between two rocky outcroppings before tumbling noisily down a boulder-strewn slope— was a wooden structure ten feet high. It looked like at least five feet of water was backed up behind it in a lake that filled a wide depression.

  “We’ll leave the chutes open until the rains start and all the dry creeks begin to flow again,” Carl said.

  Will wondered why McGloughlin was the only one to put any real pressure on Idalou and her brother to sell. If Van was any indication of what his father was like, Frank Sonnenberg would be more likely than McGloughlin to use underhanded methods to drive Idalou and her brother off their land. The men he’d met in the saloon didn’t much like Sonnenberg or his son. At the same time, everybody liked McGloughlin. Will found that curious.

  “Do you have anyone to keep watch on the dam?” Will asked.

  “We only have two hands,” Carl said. “We can’t afford to put someone on it all the time.”

  “It’s not far from the house,” Idalou added. “I check it every day after breakfast. If anything is threatening to break, I want to know about it as soon as possible. If the dam broke, it could threaten the house.”

  Thinking back on yesterday, Will remembered that the creek ran close by the ranch house. While they were talking, several cows came up to the lake behind the dam to drink.

  “Dammit!” Idalou said. “Jordan promised to keep his cows off our range.”

  “Lou, you can’t tell from here whose cows those are. Besides, you know he can’t watch every cow.”

  Ignoring her brother, Idalou drove her horse through the stream and along the bluff.

  “Where’s she going?” Will asked.

  “To a break in the bluff,” Carl said. “That’s the fastest way to get up to the lake on the far side.”

  The two men turned their horses and followed. By the time they reached Idalou, she was sitting on her horse about twenty feet from two cows with their calves.

  “Those cows have bred with our bull,” Idalou fumed. She pointed at two calves that clearly showed different breeding from their longhorn mothers. “Jordan will get twice as much for these when he sells them, without ever having to buy his own bull. Now do you understand why I’m so angry at him?” she demanded of Will.

  Will could understand quite well. “What did he say when you talked to him?”

  “What he says every time,” Idalou answered. “That he can’t keep his cows from wandering onto our land any more than we can keep our bull from wandering onto his.”

  “He does send his men after them every time you complain,” Carl said to Idalou.

  “And they’re back within the week.” She turned to Will. “ Now will you go with me to confront Jordan?”

  Will didn’t believe in confrontation except as a last resort. It was the same as cornering a wild animal. Jordan would turn and fight regardless of the circumstances that had led to the problem. “I’m going there for supper,” he said. “It may be better if I try to see what I can find out on my own.”

  “Are you afraid of Jordan, or have you gone over to the side of the rich?”

  “Lou!” Carl exclaimed. “That’s not fair.”

  “He has visible proof that Jordan’s cows are on my land, but he won’t do anything about it,” his sister responded, not backing down.

  “The cows are on our land,” Carl pointed out.

  Will wasn’t angry, just disappointed. He liked Idalou. He thought she’d been handed a rough deal, but she wouldn’t back off long enough to let anybody help her. “As long as you’re certain you have all the answers, you’ll never know any more than you do now. I’ll head back to town.”

  “She didn’t mean it,” Carl said, following Will. “She just gets riled and says the first thing that comes into her head.”

  “People can’t know when she means something and when she doesn’t, so we have to assume she means everything she says,” Will said. “If you’ll come by the office tomorrow, I’ll let you know what Jordan says.”


  “Our house is on your way back to town.”

  “I think the less your sister sees of me, the better.”

  Will thought he was merely disappointed, but as he put more distance between himself and Idalou, he realized he was angry as well. He didn’t like to be judged, especially when it was unfair. He knew he was spoiled, that he’d had things easy most of his life. Between his looks and good manners, he got along famously with women as long as they didn’t try to marry him. He wasn’t used to being shoved in the corner with the bad guys.

  There was one thing that pleased him, though. Idalou might have judged him prematurely, but she hadn’t fallen into a stupor because of his looks. He couldn’t tell what most women thought about him— the real him—because they never looked past his face.

  When Idalou had opened the door and first seen him, he’d thought she was going to be just as bad as Mara, but she’d recovered quickly. Any lingering effects she might have suffered had disappeared when he’d refused to go with her to confront Jordan. Given time, maybe she’d get to know what he was really like.

  It surprised him that he cared what she thought. He’d never been this interested in any one woman. He’d watched his brothers get married, wondering what it was that suddenly made it imperative that they have one particular woman and no other would do. Maybe his interest in Idalou stemmed from the fact that she had misjudged him and he was determined to prove her wrong. Maybe it was that she was mostly unimpressed by his looks. Maybe he just wanted to help a woman who found herself in trouble without a way out. He didn’t know, but he did know he had several questions for Jordan McGloughlin, and he didn’t mean to leave the man’s house this evening until he had answers to some of them.

  “I hope you’re satisfied with yourself,” Carl raged.

  “This was our only chance to get the sheriff to help us find out what happened to that damned bull, and you ruined it. Why don’t you wear a sign that says I hate men! and save everybody a lot of time.”

  “I don’t hate men,” Idalou said. “I don’t even hate the sheriff.”

  “I’m not sure I believe you. I know he doesn’t.”

  Idalou knew she had let her temper get away from her, but she was operating under tremendous pressure. Jordan was responsible for the disappearance of their bull, but she couldn’t get anyone to believe her, not even her brother. They had to sell the bull to keep their home, but she couldn’t do that as long as she couldn’t find the beast. And if she didn’t make the next payment on time, Lloyd was going to auction the ranch off to the highest bidder. On top of that, the girl Carl loved was now in love with Will.

  “I’ll apologize to him next time I see him.”

  “Stay away from him before you have him hoping Lloyd does sell the ranch out from under us,” Carl snapped.

  “I said I’d apologize.”

  “You might, but I expect you’d find something else to get upset about immediately afterwards.” He slapped his hat against his leg. The sound startled his horse. “You can’t hold it against every man that Webb is dead or that he broke up with you.”

  “I don’t—”

  “He might not have if you hadn’t torn into him every time you got mad at his father.”

  “How dare you—”

  “Get mad at me, too, if that’ll make you feel any better. Maybe that’s the only way you can relate to people. I love you, Lou, but sometimes it’s hard to like you. I’m going to look for the bull. I’ll see you back at the house.”

  Idalou was stunned. She’d loved Carl from the time he was born. She’d looked after him when he was growing up. The deaths of her parents had been hard on her, but she’d struggled to be father, mother, and sister to him. She’d fought to keep the ranch because it was his only inheritance. She knew they disagreed over Mara, but she couldn’t understand why he’d condemned her.

  Jordan’s cows looked just like every other longhorn she’d ever seen, tall and skinny with mottled hides and horns that spanned nearly six feet, but their calves were a solid rust-brown, shorter in stature and broader in build. They’d grow up to have fifty more pounds of meat than a longhorn. They were meant to be the future of the Double-L, not a windfall for Jordan McGloughlin. It infuriated her that everyone knew what he was doing and no one would take action about it. How could Carl expect her to hold her tongue when Will was just as bad?

  She liked Will, and not just because of his looks. He’d barely laid eyes on her before insisting she sit down and bringing her a glass of water. Not even Webb had been so kind and thoughtful. It seemed she’d finally found a man who would treat her like a real person, yet everything he’d done after that made him appear to be just like every other man she’d ever known—thinking that just because she was a woman, she was automatically an inferior being.

  Maybe she hadn’t given herself a chance to get to know him, but her whole world was falling apart. In a few days she and Carl could be without a place to live or a way to support themselves. How was she supposed to—

  “Are you out here all by yourself?”

  The sound of Van Sonnenberg’s voice yanked Idalou out of her abstraction. She turned around to see his handsome face smiling at her, but she wasn’t tempted to think his expression betokened anything beyond friendship.

  “My brother and I were looking for our bull. Carl’s gone off to search in one direction. I was about to head off in the other.”

  “It’s a shame you have to sell him,” Van commiserated. “Dad says your father put all his hopes on that animal.” Van pointed to Jordan’s cows. “From the looks of those calves, in a few years you could have made more money than either Dad or McGloughlin.”

  “Those aren’t our cows. They’re McGloughlin’s.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Van cursed. “Is he still pushing his cows onto your land?”

  Idalou wasn’t sure she liked Van Sonnenberg. Though he’d always been nice to her, she knew his bad reputation was well earned. Still, it was nice to have someone who felt the same way she did about McGloughlin. She’d be curious to see how he’d get around that dislike when he decided to start courting Mara. She figured the only reason Van had waited this long was because at twenty-one he wasn’t ready to settle down. “I don’t know how they got here. I just know I’m sick of chasing them back.”

  “I’ll do it for you,” Van said, grinning. “It’ll give me a reason to needle his cowhands for sloppy work.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t give Jordan any more reason to dislike me.”

  “You want me to help you look for your bull?” Van’s trademark grin appeared. He wasn’t anywhere near as handsome as Will Haskins, but he’d been setting young hearts aflutter since he’d turned fourteen. And breaking a few, if rumor could be trusted.

  “Go chase the cows away. That’ll cause less trouble,” Idalou said.

  Van laughed as he turned his horse. She watched as he rode off, yelling and fanning the air with his hat to get the cows moving. He was filled with high spirits and a love of life that came from the belief he could have anything he wanted—but why should that make her think of Will Haskins? She was certain Will’s looks had gotten him virtually anything he wanted, but he had a settled air about him. If everybody could be believed, he’d handled both Van and Newt with ease, yet he’d refused to confront Jordan for her. If Van had been in his place, he’d be heading for Jordan’s ranch right now, fire in his eyes.

  So why was she relieved that Will didn’t act like Van?

  She didn’t know why she felt that way any more than why she seemed to lose her temper with Will every time they met. Something about him set her off. Maybe it was because he seemed to have had better luck than her family had. Because his life seemed so golden, when hers was badly tarnished. What was wrong with her?

  Probably too much pressure. From the time her father had purchased that bull, nothing had gone right, and she’d been helpless to fix any of it.

  And she wouldn’t fix anything by sitting here like a mindle
ss idiot. She had to find that bull. Until she did that, nothing else mattered.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you did for my daughter,” Mrs. McGloughlin said to Will for what had to be the fifth or sixth time in the last hour. “Since Webb’s death, I’ve been petrified that something might happen to her. Mara’s my only child now.”

  Will could sympathize with a mother’s concern for her daughter. He wasn’t an anxious person, but he was beginning to feel the need for a long walk in the wide-open spaces.

  “I think you’ve convinced him of that, Alma,” Jordan McGloughlin said to his wife. “Let the man relax, or he won’t be able to enjoy his supper.”

  “I’m just so thankful, I don’t know what to do,” his wife said.

  Will was tempted to suggest she begin by keeping her daughter home after dark, but he took a swallow of his whiskey and said nothing. “Do you mind showing me around before supper?” Will asked.

  “Not a bit,” Jordan said, getting to his feet. “We can saddle up a couple of horses.”

  “Maybe just walk out in the yard,” Will said, standing and following Jordan outside. “I don’t want to get too far from the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen.”

  Like many men who grew up in the East, Jordan had planted trees to shade his ranch house, but they were a far cry from the towering oaks, maples, cypresses, and cedars of the Hill Country that sometimes formed a dense canopy that even the most brilliant sun couldn’t penetrate, allowing mosses and ferns to grow in the cool, moist soil.

  “Your daughter is a lovely young woman,” Will said. “I’m sure you and your wife are very proud of her.”

  “We are,” Jordan said, beaming with fatherly pride, “but she’s a bit headstrong. That can be a worry.”

 

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