The Gentrys: Abby

by Linda Conrad

  A Gentry would be concerned over one horse? And another man's horse at that?

  "Do not trouble yourself over Thunder Cloud," he told her. "He goes where he wishes, and he's more at home on the range than in a corral."

  Gray still needed to finish the story, his pride be damned. "As for the snake, I never saw him, never even heard him. I don't understand how I might have disturbed his nap.

  "I track with the Comanche wisdom," he continued. "My grandfather taught me. The nemene belong to the earth, they do not trample upon it."

  She tilted her head, lowered her chin. "Do you remember how you got that wound on your head?"

  Gray touched the spot on his temple that now was swollen and bruised. "No. I must have hit my head on a rock after the snake startled me."

  Abby nodded. "That would explain why you didn't just walk away from the rattler bite and ride for help."

  He couldn't remember. The sounds of the beating drums had been so strong in his head that they obliterated everything else.

  Was he going crazy? He needed to call his grandfather to ask about the dream—and why this Gentry girl had heard the drums, too.

  At his first thought of the eerie drumbeats, Gray could swear he heard them again. But of course, that was nuts. A minute later he recognized the sounds. A helicopter was landing outside.

  "Ah. The paramedics are here," Abby said as she headed to take the barricades from the door. "It must be dawn."

  "I'm okay now," Gray muttered. "I remember you administered antivenom. I was very lucky you carry such things on the range."

  He didn't need the embarrassment of having to be airlifted off the ranch for a simple snakebite. "I'm well enough to find my own way back to the Skaggs Ranch. Thunder Cloud won't have gone too far."

  Abby started toward him and smiled—the first real smile he could remember having graced her face. With the early-morning light seeping through the open door and under the cracks in the window coverings, Gray finally saw what he'd hoped was true. Her eyes were a gray-green.

  The swift arrow of lust he felt as he watched her walking to his side left him shaken. There was nothing overtly sexy about this woman, yet…

  That must've been it, he mused. For the first time, he'd actually recognized the woman inside the tomboy's form.

  It had been so long since the spark of desire had shot through him, he barely recognized the feeling. Returning to Texas after his mother's death had only brought him anguish, pain and hard work. Not women.

  He didn't have time for that nonsense now, either. Especially since it involved the one who'd saved his life, and most especially because she was one of the rich Gentrys. Besides, as a white woman she did not have the blood of the nemene running through her veins.

  "You look like you're going to survive, but you haven't even gotten to your feet yet," she said. "Why don't you try standing first? Then you can decide about the paramedics."

  Abby took his arm, assisting him to get up. His head swam and his stomach rolled. Apparently seeing his weakness, she gently pushed him back down on the cot.

  "Well, that answers the question. If you can't stand, you can't walk back home."

  Gray groaned with misery and embarrassment as two men in jumpsuits, carrying large plastic cases, piled into the little room. "Sorry it took so long, Miss Gentry. We've been filled in on the patient's condition, so we should have him stabilized and delivered to the regional hospital within a few minutes. Don't worry."

  The paramedics had been true to their words. Over Gray's protests, they'd taken his vital signs, administered oxygen from a portable bottle and started an IV containing fluids to rehydrate him. Within minutes they had him loaded into the chopper and on his way.

  Afterward, as Abby rode alone to the main house, she'd had a long discussion with herself about letting imagination overtake reality. Now, a few hours later, after a bath and nap, Abby began to feel human again.

  She must've been exhausted and in a state of shock herself to imagine smoke and drums last night. And to believe that somehow Gray's body had been spirited away… Well, it was all just a crazy dream.

  Abby had more important things to attend to this afternoon. She needed to give her older brother, Cinco, a piece of her mind. How dare he go over her head and speak to Billy Bob and Jake about her safety?

  She knew he'd always been wrapped up in security issues, that he'd felt responsible for her and their brother, Cal, ever since their parents' death. But in return, Cinco knew about her dreams of becoming the foreman on Gentry Ranch. She'd told him many times.

  To think he'd actually told Billy Bob to watch out for her. Here she was, trying to prove that she was a capable ranch hand and nearly ready to become the foreman for the entire Gentry spread, and Cinco continued to undercut her efforts. She loved her brother, but he had to start treating her like an adult who could take care of herself.

  She stormed through the old homestead, stalking Cinco, but he was nowhere to be found. Abby slapped her thigh with the leather gloves she was about to put on. Dang, but he led a charmed life.

  When she pushed into the kitchen through the swinging doors and found her new sister-in-law, Meredith, Abby's mood lightened considerably.

  There hadn't been a woman besides herself and Lupe, the old housekeeper, on Gentry Ranch since her mother's disappearance over twelve years ago. Abby had developed a real soft spot for Meredith, a tough ex-Air Force pilot who possessed a sympathetic and warm center. Besides, her sister-in-law could make Cinco listen to reason.

  Her brother had generally been an insufferable control freak for the past twelve years. But since getting married, he'd softened some. At least, she'd thought so until Billy Bob's words yesterday on the range.

  "Abby Jo! I'm so glad to see you." Meredith quickly embraced her. "When we heard about what happened out on the range, we thought you might've been in trouble … or hurt."

  Abby denied her own need for the warmth and comfort of her sister-in-law's hug and stepped away. "Of all the danged silliness. You might not know me well enough to be sure I can take care of myself, but Cinco does."

  She narrowed her eyes and continued. "Where is the great ranch manager? I have a few things to say to him."

  Meredith smiled and held out a plateful of chocolate chip cookies. "Lupe made these just this morning. Have a couple. They're her usual triumphs."

  It would be impossible to pass up any of Lupe's cookies. Abby took a handful and stuffed one in her mouth.

  "I think your brother is still out on the range," Meredith said, finally answering her original question. "He decided to ride up to line shack twenty-three—" she put the plate back on the counter "—just in case you might need anything on your way back."

  Abby nearly spit out the mouthful of cookie crumbs. "What? Why that—"

  "Hold on, honey." Meredith took hold of her shoulders with a firm grip. "Don't go crazy over him worrying about you. You've known him all your life. He's a worrier. You know that part of him will never totally change."

  Meredith shrugged and tossed her thick, gold braid over her shoulder. "I've come to the conclusion that I like having him concerned about my welfare. You know that doesn't mean he's trying to control your life. It just means he loves you."

  Abby finally gave in. "I know he loves me, Meri, and I love him. But I want him to see that I'm grown-up enough to take care of myself and that I know what I want from life."

  Her sister-in-law slowly shook her head. "Oh, he knows that you've grown up, all right. I'm not supposed to tell you this yet, but he's planning a big shindig for your birthday—inviting all the eligible bachelors in the county, too."

  Once again cookie crumbs went spewing over the kitchen. "What? But why on earth…"

  Meredith slung an arm around her. "He thinks you must be lonely way out here. He's concerned that you haven't been seeing friends or dating since you've been home from school."

  "Well, if that doesn't beat all." Abby hung her head. "I can't believe he didn't
remember that I never dated anyone in high school … and I certainly don't need a man messing up my life now. How could he just go off and invite people without speaking to me about it first?"

  Meredith took a step back and studied her. "You never dated in high school?"

  Abby shook her head.

  "How about in college?"

  The incredulous tone in Meredith's voice caused Abby some embarrassment, but she didn't have anything to hide. Men just hadn't fitted into her dreams. Lots of women in this modern world lived long and fruitful lives without being tied to a man. She'd always planned to be one of them.

  She shook her head and headed for another cookie.

  "Are you telling me that you've never 'been' with a man?" Meredith asked in amazement.

  "Of course not," Abby managed to say before stuffing her mouth again. "Why would I?"

  Meredith chuckled. "Oh, honey, I can see why Cinco worries so much about you."

  Abby wrinkled up her face but couldn't protest with her mouth still full.

  "Listen up, Abby Jo Gentry." Meredith straightened to her full five foot ten. "You will go to this party Cinco's planned. You will talk to some of the men. And you will enjoy yourself."

  Meredith kissed her on the cheek. "That's an order."

  * * *

  Three

  « ^ »

  A week later Gray climbed the back steps to the kitchen of the Skaggses' main house. His body still ached, but at least he hadn't been forced to stay in the hospital for more than a few hours.

  "You must have a strong constitution, son." One of the doctors told him as he signed the papers to send him home. "Most people would've been down for a week after what you went through."

  If that were true, he imagined he'd inherited the trait from his grandfather. Gray sure hoped he'd finally be able to talk to that cranky old Indian this morning, too. He needed answers, but Grandfather still didn't have a phone.

  While he'd lived with him for ten years, going to college and learning the ways of the elders, Gray hadn't cared much about phones, either. Now that Grandfather lived alone, Gray thought maybe he should buy him a cell phone, even though neither of them wanted to jump into technology quite so forcefully. In general, the old ways were infinitely better.

  But he wanted the old man to quickly be able to get in touch with him should anything happen. And Gray wanted to be able to reach him when he had a question only Grandfather could answer.

  His grandfather, Stalking Moon Parker, had always lived near the progressive and relatively prosperous tribal family lands, located in southwestern Oklahoma. But the stoic old crank would have none of the modern conveniences and civilized companionship of other Comanches. He lived alone with the old ways, and far from the rest of nemene.

  Gray imagined that by today his grandfather would've gotten the messages he'd had a neighbor hand-deliver. And Grandfather would've come to town this morning to answer a phone call placed to an old friend.

  As he stepped into the kitchen of the Skaggses' main house, Gray sighed quietly. Unfortunately, his own phone privileges had been somewhat restricted lately. He could only pray that his two stepbrothers, the current bane of his existence, would be out of the house.

  No such luck.

  "Hey, hey, hey, looky here," the younger Skaggs brother, Milan, said as he turned from the open refrigerator door. "Take a gander at who just walked right through the back door … like he owned the place or something."

  Milan Skaggs was twenty-three, and to Gray's mind he didn't amount to much. Lean and gangly at about five foot eight, the younger Skaggs boy had to physically look up to his stepbrother—which didn't do much in the way of making him any more pleasant.

  At the moment Milan was grinning at him with one of his typically foolish looks. Gray tried to keep a steady and neutral expression on his face. But it wasn't easy when Milan looked so dumb, gazing up at him from under that shock of straw-colored hair.

  "Don't waste your time with the Indian, Milan." Harold, the elder Skaggs brother waltzed into the kitchen, waving a small white card around in the air. "We've got more important things to attend to right now." Harold threw Gray a disgusted glance, then returned his attention to his own flesh and blood.

  Gray took an involuntary step forward. But remembering where he was he fisted his hands in his pockets and froze in place, standing near the back door. Something about Harold just made him feel like a fight.

  Which, come to think of it, was surprising, considering the eldest Skaggs brother's demeanor seemed so wimpy. His face always carried that pasty, drawn scowl. His nondescript brown eyes never managed to look at anyone directly, and that paunch above his belt spoke volumes about the sad state of his athletic ability.

  Whatever it was that bothered Gray about Harold, he didn't want to cause any trouble with either of his stepbrothers. He'd been forced to come back here to their ranch last year after his mother died, in order to manage the mustang herd and make sure those rare Indian ponies remained pure and well. But as soon as he could afford to move them to a place of his own, he'd be gone.

  Regardless of what his stepfather, Joe Skaggs, wanted … or needed.

  "We've got to decide how to dress properly for this barbecue party at the Gentrys' tonight, Milan." Harold continued addressing his brother and ignoring Gray. "I don't know if regular Sunday jeans is right 'cause, besides dancing and drinking, they're supposedly showing off some new horse flesh."

  "Yeah, I know," Milan replied. "Dad was talking the other day about that-there expensive Spanish mestenos stud the Gentrys had bought." He scrunched up his mouth and looked at the ceiling for answers. "Can't imagine why they'd be needing to compete with us, though. They've got all the money in the world, don't they?"

  Mestenos stud? Gray instantly became very interested in his stepbrothers' conversation. Of course, the Indian ponies on the Skaggs Ranch belonged to him—not to any of the Skaggses. He'd inherited them legally under white-man's laws.

  He couldn't imagine that the Gentry Ranch had decided to go into mustang breeding, there wasn't enough money involved for them. Milan was right for a change—it just didn't add up.

  "There's some kind of shindig at the Gentry Ranch tonight?" Gray asked. He'd sure like to get a look at the neighbors' new acquisition.

  Gray was not a party person. In fact, he couldn't exactly claim he'd ever been to anything resembling a party—except maybe an inter-tribal powwow. But he doubted that a rich man's Texas barbecue would be quite the same.

  "Big shindig," Milan loudly answered. "Really big. Daddy says the oldest brother … what's his name, Cinco ain't it? Anyway, he's invited every eligible male in the county, looking for somebody to take his scraggly sister off his hands."

  Milan grinned and hitched up his jeans. "Figure I got 'bout the best shot at it as any cowpoke 'round here."

  Gray winced at the thought—and at the whiff of

  Milan's rank breath he'd just gotten, but he tried to keep his features steady. Were they talking about Abby, the woman who'd rescued him and saved his life? He'd heard that she was the only daughter … the only woman on the Gentry ranch … except for the oldest brother's new wife. But she was definitely not "scraggly" looking.

  Gray thought Abby was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever laid eyes on. Well, all right, perhaps she was a bit shorter than average, and her muscular body might not appeal to some, but she had the face and eyes of an angel. And … just maybe … white men liked their women to wear lots of makeup and frilly clothes. But Gray sure didn't. And he knew that Abby wouldn't wear anything that foolish. His lips began to curl into a wide grin with the thought of the strong young woman who'd saved his life.

  "Don't even think about it," Harold suddenly snarled at Gray. "You're not going with us, brother Parker. Dad says the Gentry clan wouldn't want any ol' Injuns at their party. It's bad enough you embarrassed us with that snake stunt the other day. You aren't going to get a second chance to make us look stupid."

  Gr
ay knew he could never make the Skaggses look stupid—they did a great job of that on their own. "I thought you said our neighbors had invited all bachelors?" he asked Milan.

  Milan ripped the invitation from Harold's hand and waved it under Gray's nose. "This here invite is addressed to 'Joe Skaggs and family.' As I recall, your name ain't Skaggs … Parker. When Dad gets done with morning chores he'll make you see you ain't wanted."

  Gray pulled his fisted hands from his pockets with a jerk. Remembering just in time that these idiots were not worth the effort to scalp, he forced himself to take a step back. More than proud of his Comanche heritage, he'd never paid attention to anyone's nasty remarks or ill-informed prejudice, and he wasn't going to start now.

  And if, heaven forbid, his name was Skaggs, he'd be duty-bound to commit suicide.

  "I couldn't care less about going to any ridiculous barbecue." Gray shrugged. "But you boys better get on the stick and figure out what party frocks to wear. You've only got another eight hours or so to pretty up."

  Before either of them could manage another word, he turned and strode out the kitchen door, leaving both of them sputtering and gesturing in the air. Maybe he'd go get himself a cell phone, after all. Or maybe he would try calling Grandfather at his friend's house later this morning when Abbott and Costello here were out of the house.

  And after he decided what time would be best for him to show up at the Gentry Ranch barbecue.

  Abby stomped up the back stairs of the main house, cussing under her breath all the way. That durn Cinco had done it again.

  This time she'd been pitching in with the wranglers as they'd prepared for the barbecue. She'd helped as they dug a huge pit out behind the house, filled it with mesquite and lit the fires. They'd set up the chairs, tables and tents.

  Finally, as she was helping the cooks load spits with the many sides of beef to be slow-smoked, Cinco showed up and nearly embarrassed her to death. He stood beside her at the edge of the pit, all six foot two of him, scrutinizing her.