Cowboy Charm School

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Cowboy Charm School Page 9

by Margaret Brownley


  Something had to be done about the town bullies, and done soon. The question was what?

  10

  Brett left his boardinghouse early Tuesday morning, yawning, and headed straight to the livery. Already, the sun was bright, promising another warm day, but his foul mood persisted.

  He’d been in town for more than a month and had little to show for his efforts. He was no closer to finding his former brother-in-law than the day he’d first ridden into Haywire. The Ghost Riders still hadn’t been captured, and he was making little headway with Kate’s former fiancé. The man didn’t have a clue how to win her back. Not a clue.

  But those were the least of his worries. He was fit to be boiled for glue, and it had nothing to do with work or even Foster One or Two. He was mad at himself for letting Kate Denver get under his skin. Heck, she hadn’t just sneaked her way in; she’d practically burrowed a hole right through him all the way to his heart.

  And he had no right feeling this way. No right at all. Had it not been for him, she would now be Mrs. Foster. A married woman. Out of his reach.

  For the love of Pete, what was he thinking? She was still out of his reach. Just because he’d held her in his arms, just because she’d clung to him as if she’d never let him go, just because she could make his heart sing with a simple smile… None of these was a reason to think things had changed.

  Foster Two had many faults, but he didn’t deserve to lose the woman he loved. Certainly not to the man responsible for ruining his wedding.

  Brett grimaced. Okay, okay, okay, he’d been in binds before. Not romantic binds, but binds. The first step in handling trouble was to state the problem. He blew out his breath and forced himself to put his feelings into words. He was in terrible danger of falling for Kate Denver. There, problem stated.

  The next step was to decide on a plan. In this case, the only thing that made sense was to stay away from her. Far, far away. The problem was, that might be easier said than done. That was why it was imperative to get her and Foster back together as soon as possible.

  Determined to make that happen, Brett crossed over to the stables as quickly as his troubled thoughts allowed.

  He’d paid the young liveryman extra to have his horse, Soldier, saddled and ready to go. The time saved allowed him to catch Deputy Patrick Sweeney before he’d left his house.

  The sheriff didn’t like Brett questioning his deputy, or even witnesses, and had thwarted his every attempt to do so. But Brett refused to be deterred. Even with the recent population explosion, Haywire was still a relatively small town. A neighbor, a friend, a tradesman—someone—had to have seen or heard something.

  To that end, Brett had grilled bartenders, good-time gals, and coffin drivers, as faro dealers were called. So far, he’d turned up nothing. The Ghost Riders had money to spend, but they sure in blazes weren’t spending it in Haywire—or at least not in the expected ways.

  He’d questioned businessmen, ranchers, and farmers, young and old, and had nothing to show for his efforts. Either Haywire citizens were strangely unobservant, or the Ghost Riders were especially cunning.

  Brett didn’t think Deputy Sheriff Sweeney knew any more than he’d already let on, but it wouldn’t hurt to question him again. Sweeney was also a witness, and witnesses sometimes forgot things in the heat of the moment, only to recall them later.

  The deputy lived with his wife and children in an adobe cabin about a mile out of town. Mrs. Sweeney directed Brett to the barn, where he found the deputy saddling his horse.

  If the deputy was surprised by the early-morning visit, he didn’t show it. “Got a minute?” Brett asked.

  “Not really. The sheriff don’t like his men to be late.” A compact man with ginger hair and sideburns, he spoke with an Irish brogue.

  “I won’t keep you. I just need to clarify a couple of things. Been thinking about what you said about the Ghost Riders and wondered if you’d mind going over it again. I want to make sure I’ve got the facts straight.”

  Sweeney squinted. “And this couldn’t wait till I got to the office?”

  Brett shrugged but didn’t answer. “I want to go over the part where they left town. You said they headed south.”

  “That’s right,” the deputy said, indicating the direction with a nod.

  “You and the sheriff followed them. How far behind were you?”

  Sweeney thought a moment before answering, his voice drowned out by a bleating goat. At Brett’s request, he repeated his answer. “A half mile, maybe.”

  “And you were able to see both men and their horses clearly?”

  Between the bleating goat and the man’s burr, Brett had a hard time understanding him. “Would you mind repeating that?”

  “Like I said, we could see them until they reached the Elbow.”

  “And after they vanished, you didn’t see or hear anything unusual?”

  Sweeney shook his head. “Not a thing.”

  Brett tossed a nod at the noisy nanny. “What’s wrong with your goat?”

  “Don’t know. She’s been making a racket like that for two days nigh.”

  “Looks like she’s limping. You ought to get her checked out.” Brett hooked his thumbs into his belt. “Did you say you lost them at the Elbow?”

  “Yeah, that’s the bend in the river.” The Irishman crooked his arm to indicate it. “A grove of trees blocks the view of the road. That’s where we lost them.”

  So far, Sweeney’s account matched the sheriff’s almost word for word. “Did you check out the area?”

  “Combed it from one end to the other. The way I figure it, there are two types of people in the world. There are those who don’t believe in ghosts and those of us who’ve seen them with our own pure eyes. As God is my witness, I’m telling you, those two criminals vanished into thin air. Never saw anythin’ like it in me life.”

  * * *

  That morning, Kate stopped at Doc Avery’s office to ask him to check on Mr. Fletcher. She then walked the short distance to the shop, where she found a basket of flowers on the counter. The size of a bread box, the basket held an abundance of cornflowers and white lilies. A blue satin bow adorned the handle.

  “For me?” she asked.

  Aunt Letty’s mouth curved into a satisfied smile. “That’s what the envelope says.”

  Dazzled by the beautiful arrangement, Kate blinked in disbelief. No one had ever before sent her flowers.

  “Well, aren’t you gonna find out who they’re from?” Aunt Letty asked. The look of innocence on her aunt’s face didn’t fool Kate one whit. She was willing to bet her aunt had sneaked a peek at the card. Of course, Aunt Letty would never admit to such a thing.

  Kate plucked the envelope from the blossoms and pulled out a little white card. “They’re from Frank,” she said with a puzzled frown. Frank had sent her flowers?

  Though she was positive Aunt Letty had already looked at the card, Kate read the handwritten message aloud. “‘When I first saw you, I fell in love and knew we were meant to be together.’” She looked up. “I don’t believe it. This doesn’t sound like something Frank would say.”

  Aunt Letty shrugged. “Wonders never cease. Read the rest.”

  Kate continued reading. “‘Losing you is like a world without candy. A world without sunshine. A world without laughter.’” Overcome with emotion, she paused a moment before reading the rest. “‘My life has no meaning without you. Please come back to me.’”

  Hands clutched to her chest, Aunt Letty heaved a dreamy sigh. “Oh, the poor, poor man. He’s obviously heartbroken.”

  Kate stared at the note and didn’t know what to think. Had it not been written in Frank’s handwriting, she would never have guessed in a million years that the note had come from him. It wasn’t like Frank to express his feelings, at least not in such endearing terms.

  Just as su
rprising was the huge bouquet of flowers. She distinctly remembered him saying that buying something doomed to die in a day or two was money down the drain.

  Touching one large bloom by the stem, Kate buried her nose in the petals and inhaled the sweet fragrance.

  She drew away with a sigh. Did Frank really know that blue was her favorite color, or had it just been a lucky guess? Flowers and flowery prose were not his usual style.

  In the past, Frank’s idea of a romantic gift had been something far more practical, like a kitchen tool. For her birthday, he’d given her an eggbeater. For Christmas, he’d completely missed the hints she dropped for a new hatpin. Instead, he’d presented her with leather fireplace bellows. The fact that he’d made them himself didn’t alleviate her disappointment, but she’d tried her best not to show it.

  Not only were the flowers out of character for him, but they further complicated matters and added to her confusion. Since yesterday’s near-drowning, Kate had not been able to think of anything but the Texas Ranger. You’re safe, he’d said. Safe. It was the third time she’d heard him use the word safe, and each time, he’d struck a chord deep inside her. How could he possibly have known? How could he possibly have guessed how important it was for her to feel safe?

  Most orphan-train riders suffered from a deep-seated fear of loss. She suspected it was the reason for Frank’s jealousy. That was why she’d put up with it as long as she had. But knowing the root of his jealousy didn’t make it any easier to live with.

  Now, in view of the flowers and the note, she felt guilty for thinking kinder of the ranger than of Frank.

  This…this gesture… She wasn’t sure what to call it. A peace offering? An apology? A promise to do better? She hesitated to call it romantic. Frank was far too prosaic for that. Still, this was unlike anything she had come to expect from him. Maybe he really was trying to change.

  “Now will you consider giving him a chance to make things right?” Aunt Letty asked.

  Kate bit her lip. A world without candy, a world without sunshine… Nothing Frank had said or done in the past had touched her as deeply as those few words.

  Still, she didn’t want to get her aunt’s hopes high. She had to make certain that Frank really had conquered his jealousy before deciding whether the two of them had a future together. “I’ll think about it.”

  * * *

  How could one goat cause so much trouble? Brett battled his way through the door of Foster’s saddle shop. The deputy’s nanny goat squealed and squirmed in his arms, and it was all Brett could do to hold on to her.

  Brett intended to lower the goat to the floor gently so as not to cause further injury to the animal’s leg, but the nanny scrambled out of his arms before he had a chance. The goat’s rear leg buckled for a moment before she clambered to her feet and careened around the shop.

  Brushing goat hair off his vest and trousers, Brett let his gaze wander. The buttery smell of leather mingled with the smoky scent of birch-tar soap. It was the first time he’d set foot in Foster’s shop, and he was impressed by the quality of the saddles on display. Some were plain but sturdy with high horns. The latter was designed for the Texas custom of attaching the lariat to the horn before tossing it. Other saddles were intricately carved and trimmed in silver. Most were Mexican-style saddles.

  Foster’s workbench was situated behind the counter, but he was nowhere in sight. A half-finished stock saddle sat on a wooden frame, surrounded by all manner of hand tools and leather shavings.

  As clueless as he was about women in general, and Kate Denver in particular, Foster had his good points and was a fine craftsman. Some might even say he was an artisan.

  The door opened, and Foster entered carrying a saddle. Upon seeing the goat, he stopped dead in his tracks. “What the devil?”

  The nanny was chewing on a saddle string, and Brett pulled her away. “It’s just a goat.”

  Frank heaved the saddle onto a wooden stand and quickly took refuge behind the counter. “It can’t be here. Animals do funny things to me. They make me sneeze and break out in spots. I don’t even own a horse.”

  Brett scratched his temple. “I don’t understand how someone allergic to horses can be a saddle maker.”

  “What’s to understand? I work with leather that is tanned and cleaned.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. But knowing how animals affect you, I still don’t understand how you can marry Kate, the Clara Barton of the animal kingdom.”

  “How do you know that about Kate?” Foster’s accusatory tone was tempered by a sneeze.

  Brett rubbed his chin and decided not to mention Kate’s near-drowning. If she wanted Foster to know, he’d let her deal with it. “It’s not exactly a secret.” He knitted his brow. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  Foster threw up his hands. “Okay, if you must know, Kate agreed to keep her menagerie at her aunt’s house.”

  “Menagerie? How many animals does she have?”

  “I don’t know.” Frank sneezed again and this time drew a handkerchief from his pocket. “It changes daily. She has this knack of finding injured animals and nursing them back to health. The wild animals she lets go. The rest she finds homes for. She’s kind of like the Children’s Aid Society for animals.” He sidled to the other end of the counter, putting as much distance between himself and the goat as possible. “So, what’s it doing here?”

  “That, my dear man, is the key to Kate’s heart. Now that you’ve paved the way with flowers, you need a reason to see her. That’s where the goat comes in. As you can see, something’s wrong with her leg, and you need to ask Kate to look at it. Show her how concerned you are about the animal’s welfare. How much you appreciate her nursing skills.”

  Foster stared at him. “Are you out of your cotton-pickin’ mind?” He sneezed again and dabbed at his watering eyes with his handkerchief. “I can’t walk into her shop with a goat.”

  “No, but you can take it to her house.”

  “I can’t do that either. I told you I don’t own a horse, and she lives at least a mile away.”

  Brett stared at him. Never had he seen a face swell up so quickly. “How do you normally get there?”

  “I generally walk, but there’s no way I’m walking all that way carrying a blessed goat!”

  Brett rubbed the back of his neck and tried to think. Things kept getting more and more complicated. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll drive you there with the goat. I’ll drop you down the road a piece so that Kate doesn’t see me. If she thinks you walked all the way from town to help the poor animal, trust me, she’ll melt on the spot.”

  Foster pointed to his blotchy face. “Do you see what’s happening here?”

  “How can I miss it? You look horrid. And I couldn’t have planned this better had I tried. When Kate sees how you made your life miserable just to save a poor goat, she’ll give you another chance.”

  Foster stared at him through red, watery eyes. “You mean she’ll take me back?”

  “I wouldn’t go quite that far. At least not yet. You said it yourself. She’s pretty riled.” Brett thought for a moment. “I saw a sign in town about a dance next week.”

  Foster sneezed into his handkerchief. “Are…ah-choo!” He blew his nose before continuing. “Are you talking about the annual spring dance?”

  “Yep, that’s the one.” Brett studied Foster with thoughtful regard. “How do you feel about taking Kate to that dance?”

  Foster discounted the idea with a shake of his head. “She won’t even talk to me. How am I gonna get her to go to a dance?”

  “Trust me. That’s where the goat comes in. When Kate sees how you’re tryin’ to help it, she’ll look at you with new eyes. When you see her start to grow soft toward you, that’s when you ask her to the dance.”

  A flicker of hope flared in Foster’s red eyes and just
as quickly died. “What if she turns me down?”

  “If you look as bad as you do now, she won’t have the heart to turn you down.”

  The stubborn look left Foster’s face, or at least Brett thought it did. It was hard to know for certain what was going on beneath the swelling and redness.

  Frank eyed the goat with a doubtful frown. “Are you sure this is gonna work?”

  Brett shrugged. Where Foster was concerned, he wasn’t sure of anything. “She liked the flowers, didn’t she?”

  Frank nodded and reached for a folded piece of paper on the counter next to the money box. “She sent me a thank-you note. Said they were candy for the eyes.”

  “See? What did I tell you? Women like that kind of stuff. No doubt she also liked what you wrote.” The wording on the note had been Brett’s idea. He’d also come up with the part about the candy, sunshine, and laughter. It wasn’t hard. He loathed filling out reports to ranger headquarters, but where Kate was concerned, the words had flowed. “I haven’t led you astray yet, have I?”

  Frank’s shoulders slumped further. “Okay, okay. You made your point.” He studied the goat ruefully. “So you think me showing up on Kate’s doorstep with a goat will do the trick?”

  “I certainly hope so.” Holding Kate in his arms had made one thing all too clear: the sooner he could get Kate and Frank back together again, the better. For his sake as well as theirs.

  11

  Kate had just finished clearing the supper dishes when she heard a sound on the front porch. Drying her hands on her apron, she rushed to open the door and gasped.

  The light from the parlor cast a faint yellow glow onto the dark porch, revealing a most startling sight. “Frank!” She squinted for a better look. “Is that you? And what are you doing with that—?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” Frank sounded as miserable as he looked. “Who did you think it was?” Battling to hold on to the squirming animal in his arms, he did a fancy two-step. “Where can I put this thing?” The thing he referred to was a goat. A squirming, bleating goat.

 

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