The Lawman's Noelle (Men of the West Book 31)

by Stella Bagwell

  Before he could finish, she whirled out of his arms and lifted her chin defiantly. She faced him head-on. “If I gave up everything and did things your way? No. That wouldn’t make me happy, Evan. Even if I tried it, I’d end up resenting you. And I don’t want that to happen.”

  “You wouldn’t have to give up this place entirely. I could hire some hands to keep it going.”

  Frustration had her groaning and shaking her head. “Do you hear yourself? Hire, hire, hire. That’s all you think about. Paying someone to do the work that I want to do. I want to keep this place going, Evan. I want to pitch the hay, spread the feed, work the cattle. I want to birth the calves and ride the fences. My herd is gone, but this is still my home. My land. I’ll recover somehow. And I’ll do it my way.”

  “Do you hear yourself, Noelle? Instead of meeting me halfway, you’re expecting me to change my whole life.”

  “Your idea of halfway is me living on the Horn while this place slowly turns into nothing more than a piece of land with a few scrub cows on it.”

  His jaw clamped tight. “That’s a low blow, Noelle.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is. But right now, I’m feeling pretty low.” Grabbing up the dish towel, she wiped her hands a second time, then started out of the room. “I’ll be right back.”

  Seconds later she returned with the ring box and slammed it into his hand. “Here’s your ring. You might as well take it back, because it doesn’t fit.”

  Scowling now, he looked down at the velvet box. “How do you know? Did you try it on?”

  “Size has nothing to do with the fit, Evan.”

  He started to say something else, but a male voice was suddenly calling to him from the front door.

  “Hey, Evan. I’ve got something. We need to hit the road.”

  Slipping the ring box into his shirt pocket, he said, “I’ve got to be going. If we find your cattle, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting a miracle.”

  “Lawmen don’t deal in miracles. You have to pray for one of those. And you just might ought to do that.”

  He left the room, and moments later, she heard the front door close behind him. The finality of the sound left a hollow feeling in the middle of her chest and a ball of pain in her throat.

  * * *

  The next morning, Noelle decided she couldn’t sit around on her hands and hope things got better. The rustlers had taken her cattle, but they couldn’t take her spirit. And neither could Evan.

  After dressing in heavy work clothes, she walked down to the barn and saddled Lonesome, then gathered fencing pliers and enough staples to repair the fence at the gulch. She was shoving the equipment into a pair of saddlebags when the dogs began to bark and she heard a vehicle outside the barn.

  Leaving the horse tied to a hitching post, she walked around the cattle pen obstructing her view and was shocked to see Bart Calhoun climbing down from a bright red pickup truck. Even though he was simply dressed in jeans, boots and a brown ranch coat, his broad shoulders and big black cowboy hat made him an authoritative figure of a man.

  What was the elder Calhoun doing here? she wondered wildly. Had something happened to Evan, and he’d come to give her the news? The terrifying thought had her jogging out to meet him.

  While she called the dogs to her side, he lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello, Noelle. As I passed on the road, I caught a glimpse of you down here at the barn,” he explained. “That’s why I didn’t stop at the house.”

  “Hello, Mr. Calhoun.” She stepped forward and offered him her hand. But rather than shake it, he simply gathered it between his and held on tightly. Noelle was surprised at how much comfort and strength she drew from the connection. Other than the night she’d visited with him at Sassy’s party, she didn’t really know much about the Calhoun patriarch. Evan had told her that Bart liked to force his will upon the family. But she hadn’t seen that side of him yet.

  A faint smile touched his weathered face. “I guess you’d like to know what I’m doing here.”

  “I am surprised to see you,” she admitted. “Has something happened to Evan?”

  “Not anything you can’t fix,” he said. Then, putting a hand on her shoulder, he urged her toward the barn. “Let’s get out of this wind.”

  With the dogs trotting at their heels, they walked around the wooden corrals until they reached the side of the barn where Lonesome stood quietly tied to the hitching post. In this spot, the old weathered building shielded them from the north wind, yet the bleak winter sun offered little warmth.

  She was still wondering what Bart meant by his remark about Evan when he gestured toward Lonesome. “Were you about to ride out?”

  “When the rustlers took my cattle, they cut my fence. I was going out to repair it.” She rested a hand on Lonesome’s spotted hip. Below it was the C/C brand that marked the Silver Horn livestock. “I suppose you want to know why I have a Silver Horn horse, but no one has ever bothered to come pick him up.”

  Bart waved a dismissive hand. “Hell, the Horn has too many horses to count. I’m not here about the paint or to plead Evan’s case. Whatever happens between you two is your business. I’m here because I heard about your cattle, and I want to help any way I can.”

  Noelle was stunned. For a man of Bart Calhoun’s stature to have a second thought about her predicament, much less drive nearly an hour to see her, was incredible.

  “I’m very grateful to you, Mr. Calhoun. It’s very, very nice of you to offer, but I’ll get through this the best way I can.”

  “First of all, I want you to call me Bart. And second, you can ask anyone in this county and they’ll tell you I’m not necessarily a nice man. If I do anything, it’s usually with a selfish motive.”

  Appreciating his honesty, she slanted him a questioning look. “And what could you possibly gain out of helping me?”

  He pointed to her face. “Seeing you smile. That would be enough.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Instead of being insulted by her curt reply, he chuckled. “Evan said you could be tough. I see what he meant.”

  “Well, I don’t want to seem ungrateful, Mr.—uh, Bart. In fact, I’m humbled that you’re offering to help. But I—”

  “You don’t even know what my offer is yet. Maybe you should hear it before you start turning it down.”

  Jamming her gloved hands into the pockets of her coat, she looked out at the single cow and calf pair she had left on the ranch. And the only reason she had them was that she’d corralled them at the barn three days ago in order to doctor the cow for respiratory distress.

  “Okay, I’m listening,” she told him.

  “I’d like to give you another herd of cows. Black Angus or Hereford. Take your pick. If I remember right, Evan tells me you had a hundred head, give or take a few. I’ll have a hundred and fifty shipped here before the day is over. They’ll all be up on their vaccinations, healthy and bred to calf in the spring. All I ask from you is that you pay me back with half the calf crop. As for a bull, you’ll have to come up with one of those on your own. But I know where you could lease one cheap.”

  Noelle stammered, “Half! Bart— I— You—you’re not making sense to me! That wouldn’t begin to pay off the cost of the mama cows. No. There’s no way I’d do any such deal like that. It’s charity. And I won’t accept charity!”

  “Why? Think you’re too good to accept help?”

  Even though the wind was icy, she could feel a wave of heat sting her cheeks. She’d accused Evan of thinking he was too good to live in her little house. She hadn’t stopped to consider that he might have the same idea about her. That Noelle believed she was too special to go along with his wishes and move to the Silver Horn. The notion troubled her. “No. But I like to do for myself. I don’t want to be behol
den to anyone.”

  Expecting Bart to be angry, she was surprised when his blue eyes suddenly glinted with admiration. “Okay. If you feel that half the calf crop wouldn’t be a fair repayment, then you could come over to Silver Horn on certain days of the week and work out the rest. I hear you’re a good ranch hand. We can always use more help. I’ll talk to Rafe about it. He won’t have any qualms about having a woman on the crew.”

  She could see that he was trying his best to help her. More than that, he was trying to make her feel good about accepting help. It dawned on her that, for whatever reason, he was treating her like family, a real family that stuck together through good times and bad. The idea touched her heart in a way that had nothing to do with cows or calves or whether, in the coming months, she’d have enough money to put food on the table. It had everything to do with the fact that this man was offering her unconditional love.

  “Well, I’m not going to say yes just yet,” she told him. “But I will think about it. In the meantime, maybe Evan will get my cattle back.”

  “Never hurts to hope, Noelle.” He gestured toward the sick cow and its calf. “That’s all you have left?”

  She nodded. “And the horses.”

  His gaze turned to the listing barn and the barren vista. Noelle wondered whether he was thinking, like Evan, that she was working herself to the bone for a worthless piece of ground.

  “I’m sure this place doesn’t look like much to you. But it will someday,” Noelle said proudly. “I won’t give up.”

  Turning his attention back to her, he reached over and gave her shoulder an encouraging pat. “I’d hate like hell if you did.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the house and barn and on to the open land beyond. “This might come as a surprise to you, but the Silver Horn hardly amounted to this much when my father started it. A person needs the determination to hold on to a dream, or it won’t ever come true.”

  She swallowed as tears threatened to fill her eyes. “I wish Evan could see things as you do,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.

  He gave her a gentle smile. “Evan isn’t as old or wise as his grandfather. Just give him a little time, Noelle. He’ll open his eyes.”

  She didn’t think so. But like Bart had said, she needed to hold on to her dreams. Foolish idea or not, Evan was still a part of them.

  She asked, “Would you like to go to the house and have a cup of coffee with me?”

  “I can’t think of anything I’d like better,” he said, “but what about your fence repairs?”

  Shrugging, she chuckled. “Oh, that can wait. After all, it’s not like the cows are going to get out.”

  He looked at her and let out a hearty laugh. “Elle, you’re my kind of woman. Let’s go have that coffee.”

  * * *

  Four days later, late Tuesday evening, Evan was dead on his feet, but he refused to follow Vincent’s advice to go home and get some much-needed sleep.

  “You’re still here? You’re not going to be able to help Noelle get her cattle back if you wind up in the hospital from exhaustion.” Vincent crossed the little office and looked into a paper sack on the edge of Evan’s desk. “You haven’t touched the sandwich or anything else in this bag. Have you eaten this evening?”

  Without looking up from the scribbled notes in front of him, Evan replied, “I drank a soda. That’s all I wanted.”

  Cursing, Vincent tossed up his hands in a helpless gesture. “Okay, I’ll forget about you getting any nourishment or rest. Have you made progress since I’ve been out this afternoon working the nightclub assault?”

  Evan sighed. “No. Each time I think I’ve latched on to a name that might lead us somewhere, I hit a dead end.”

  “What about Billy Stivers? Still no luck finding him?”

  Rising from the chair, Evan rubbed his fingers against his burning eyelids. “No. I called his aunt again earlier today, but she insists she hasn’t heard from him in weeks. From what she tells me, he’s been over in California. He wouldn’t have any reason to know about Noelle’s missing cattle.”

  Grimacing, Vincent walked over to an armchair pushed against the back wall of the room and practically fell into it. “That might be true. But he’s hardly a model citizen. And right now he seems to be our best hope of finding a connection to this crime or even the Watson homicide.” He glanced keenly at Evan. “Have you talked with Noelle lately?”

  Evan wiped a weary hand over his face. “Not since New Year’s Day when we investigated at her place.”

  Vincent shook his head. “Why? Because you don’t want to tell her that her cattle are just as gone now as they were then?”

  “No! I just—well, there’s just nothing I can say to her.”

  “Really? Nothing?”

  Glaring at him, Evan shuffled to the little table holding the coffee percolator. When he tipped the spout into a foam cup, nothing came out but black, watery dregs. Now Evan would have to wait a good fifteen minutes for another pot to brew. The idea grated on his raw nerves.

  “When are we going to get a coffeepot that wasn’t made in the 1950s?” he barked at Vincent. “Is it going to take an earthquake to get rid of this antique?”

  Vincent jumped from the chair and reached out to snatch the percolator from Evan’s grip. “Give me that! I don’t want your ungrateful paws on it! I’ll make the coffee and—”

  Evan held the pot out of Vincent’s reach. “I can do it! Leave it—”

  “Hey, guys! If you think you can quit fighting over that toy long enough to listen, there’s someone here who wants to see you.”

  At the sound of the deputy’s loud voice, both men went stock-still and stared at the open doorway of the office.

  “Who?” Evan asked.

  “Billy Stivers. I just took him to the interrogation room,” the deputy answered.

  Shocked by this turn of events, Evan and Vincent swapped hopeful glances.

  “What’s he been arrested for?” Vincent asked the deputy.

  “He’s not arrested. I put him in the interrogation room because that was the only empty place I could find. He walked in on his own. Said he’d heard Evan wanted to talk to him, so he decided to come in and find out what was going on.”

  Evan tossed the coffeepot at his partner and dashed for the door, nearly knocking down the deputy in the process.

  “Billy Stivers is going to do some talking. And fast!”

  * * *

  The next afternoon, Noelle happened to be in the house when the phone rang. Hoping and praying it might be Evan with news of her cattle, she made a dive for the receiver.

  “Hey, Noelle, it’s Jessi.”

  Noelle’s heart sank. “Oh, hi, Jessi.”

  “Gee, if I’d known my call was going to make you so glum, I would’ve called earlier.”

  Jessi’s sarcastic reply had Noelle shaking her head. “Sorry, Jessi, if I sound less than enthusiastic. When I heard the phone ring, I was praying it was Evan.”

  “No doubt. The man holds the key to your happiness.”

  Noelle let out a weary breath. She didn’t want to discuss her broken relationship with Evan. Every cell in her body was exhausted with worry. Every particle of her heart was weighted with sorrow. She didn’t want to rehash the pain.

  “I’m hoping he’ll get my cattle back, Jessi.”

  “Cattle!” Jessi repeated sardonically. “You can go to the sale barn and buy more of those. You can’t replace Evan. Maybe you ought to be pondering that instead of a bunch of bawling cows.”

  Since Jessi understood very little about livestock or ranching, Noelle could forgive the young woman’s ignorance on the importance of her cattle. But on the other hand, Noelle knew her friend had a point. She couldn’t replace Evan. Not with anyone or anything.

  “Listen, Jessi, not a mi
nute of the day goes by that I don’t regret having to give Evan’s ring back to him. But he didn’t give me any other options.”

  Jessi let out a long sigh of frustration. “That’s because you want everything to be on your terms. From what you told me, he offered to let you keep your ranch. Isn’t that enough?”

  As Jessi’s question rattled around in her head, Noelle swept her gaze over the little living room. Even though her house might be a bit shabby, she’d always loved each and every room. Yet now, without Evan, they all seemed empty and meaningless. Was this the way everything was going to be for her now? she wondered grimly. She’d thought holding on to this place, this dream to build it into a fine ranch, would make her happy. But not without Evan in her life.

  Closing her eyes against the pain, she said, “I don’t want to talk about it, Jessi. In fact, I have chores down at the barn that I need to be getting to.”

  “Fine. Hang up because you don’t want to deal with the problem. But I have one question you need to consider. What have you been willing to give up for Evan’s sake? To meet him halfway?”

  The question momentarily stunned Noelle. As her mind began to whirl, reality swept in, leaving her chilled and confused.

  Instead of meeting me halfway, you’re expecting me to change my whole life.

  Evan’s words were suddenly knocking at her heart, demanding that she listen. Could Jessi be right? Was Noelle the one who was being selfish and obstinate? Instead of concentrating on all she’d be giving up, perhaps she should be thinking of the things Evan would be giving up by moving to her place. Especially being near his loving family.

  “I—I have very little to give up for Evan,” she finally said in a choked voice. “My whole life it seems someone has demanded that I give up the things that matter to me most. My morals, my money, my hopes and dreams. My happiness. How much is a woman supposed to keep giving up, Jessi?”

  A long silence stretched between the two women. Just when Noelle was about to prod an answer out of her friend, she heard barking dogs and vehicles approaching.