Jerrick smiled at her. “We’re not brothers by blood.”
“Sometimes a good friend is better than family,” Joe said and looked toward a doorway. “Charlie not joining us?”
Mary Ellen shook her head. “No, she’s not feeling well.”
The flavorful stew and buttery biscuits were the best meal he’d had in a long time. Patrick looked to the woman who settled in across from him. “The meal is delicious. Best I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”
Mary Ellen beamed at the compliment and waved his words away, with a wide grin. “Hush now and eat.”
“Are there any other ranch hands here?” Patrick asked Joe to make conversation and because he was genuinely curious.
“Jest you two looks like,” Joe mumbled with a frown. “Damn Winfrow probably hired everyone worth a lick from around here. Jessup Winfrow owns the ranch up the road about an hour ride from here. He always seems to get a jump on things. I try to get into town and do what I can, but when I got there a few days ago, everyone was hired up. I put up a notice at the post office hoping to get at least a few workers.”
“What about Misses Kennedy’s husband or family? Seems like someone would come and help her,” Jerrick asked and Patrick was grateful, as he was interested in the answer.
Joe became closed off and grunted. “Her parents live back east. Charlie is a widow.” He didn’t say anything else. Patrick figured the man was protective of the young widow and he could not fault him for it. After all, he and Jerrick were strangers.
“We will do what we can to help. I have a lot to learn about cattle ranching, so this would be a good time as any for me to get as much learning as I can,” Patrick said moving the conversation away from the touchy subject of Joe’s boss.
The old man visibly relaxed. “You’ll more than get your experience this season. Moving the herd and calving approaches. A rancher is coming next month to collect a couple hundred head of cattle. Tomorrow we start moving the herd to the west pasture.” The foreman continued to talk, telling them of the many chores needing to be completed around the ranch. Patrick paid close attention, committing as much as possible to memory.
Movement caught his eye, the younger woman, Charlotte, moved across the doorway in the adjacent room. He noticed she’d changed into a different dress, this one a simple frock. Her hair was down and she looked to be pacing.
“Can the three of us do all that?” Jerrick asked. “Seems like a job for twice our number.”
“Yeah it is…we’ll separate the herd. Do about fifty head at a time,” Joe replied in between bites.
They finished dinner and Patrick felt the weariness from days of travel begin to take hold. He yawned and stretched. Getting up from the table, he picked up his bowl and took it to the washbasin.
Mary Ellen instantly appeared at his elbow. “Put that down, what are you doing?”
“I was going to wash it.” Patrick wasn’t sure what he’d done to earn her frown.
The woman pushed him back, but her expression softened. “No need for you to do any of that. You’ll more than earn your pay and keep with all the work Joe will have you doing. I’ll clean up. You boys go on and get settled for the night. I heard you traveled all day. So you’re probably dead on your feet.”
He was. “Thank you, the food was delicious,” Patrick repeated and stepped back noticing Jerrick already headed out the door.
“See you at breakfast,” Joe said sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. He looked to be staying for a while, so perhaps the old man lived in the larger house as well.
Just as he walked to the front door, he turned to see Charlotte standing in front of the hearth. Her head bent, she looked to be deep in thought. “Goodnight, Misses Kennedy,” he said and her head jerked up.
She looked to him in surprise, obviously she’d thought he left with Jerrick. “Goodnight, Mister Callahan.” Her voice was soft yet at the same time strong. He could listen to her talk for hours and not want to interrupt.
Their gazes met and held for a moment before she turned away to the fire again. Tendrils of hair fell forward blocking most of her face from view and he imagined pushing it back to get a closer look into those vivid hazel eyes.
The sun was barely visible as he made his way back to the bunkhouse. The entire time the picture of Charlotte’s beautiful face forefront on his mind.
The bunkhouse loomed and he didn’t feel up to going inside just yet. He walked for a while until coming to a small graveyard. Three gravestones stuck out from the well-maintained ground. Merle Kennedy, Hazel Kennedy, and Daniel Kennedy, the youngest of the three. He figured Daniel was Charlie’s dead husband. He stood for a long moment paying his respects wondering what had brought the man’s life to an abrupt end at thirty years old.
Moments later after checking on his horse, Patrick washed up and headed for his bed. His gut full and his head occupied with so many questions, he looked forward to the next day, wondering if he’d get the opportunity to speak to Charlie alone.
“You got that look,” Jerrick said in the dark. “What you up to?”
Patrick grumbled under his breath. “Nothing much. Just thinkin’.”
“You takin’ a shine to our boss lady already, aren’t you?” Jerrick chuckled. “She’s a beauty.”
“That she is,” Patrick said not answering the question. “Goodnight, Jerrick.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Maybe he did find Charlotte Kennedy arresting, but this was definitely not the time to be thinking about such matters. He needed to concentrate on the future. Colter Valley felt right. The lands were plentiful and plush, the townsfolk welcoming, and without much trouble, he and Jerrick were settled with work.
Within a few weeks, he’d find a place of his own and get his bank in Texas to wire money for the purchase.
He wasn’t a wealthy man, but he had accumulated more than most. Enough to get a couple hundred acres and livestock.
The night’s sounds wafted through the open window, and restless, he got up and looked out.
Lights were still on at the house.
Chapter Four
Charlie stood at the kitchen window looking toward the bunkhouse. The men had gone there right after dinner, Joe following Patrick and Jerrick after they invited him to play cards. Joe had taken to the two newcomers and they’d fallen into an easygoing rapport of sorts.
Both Patrick Callahan and Jerrick Black were very handsome men. It still astounded her to find so many good-looking men in one town. It was as if the beauty of the area attracted them. The local McKade men where a striking bunch, all of them with the same devilish whiskey-colored eyes and tall muscular build.
Her thoughts returned to the new ranch hands. They were as different in looks as night and day. Jerrick was dark haired with deep brown eyes that caught attention. He had a playful edge to him, as if always holding back from teasing.
Patrick was the more serious of the two, seeming to measure his words before speaking. With auburn hair and the brightest green eyes, he made one take notice. Taller than Jerrick, he shrunk a room when entering. Of the two, she took more notice of Patrick. Whenever his startling eyes met hers, it was as if he could see deep inside. To the most intimate areas, she’d rather keep to herself. The slight Irish brogue was slight but with the deepness of his voice, she could listen to him talk all day.
“There’s too much work to be done for daydreaming,” Mary Ellen, Charlie’s friend chided her with a soft smile on her lips. “You thinking about our new ranch hands? They are a handsome duo, aren’t they?”
“Honestly, I barely noticed,” Charlie lied and avoided looking at her friend who carried a cup of tea to the kitchen table. The cool breeze blew in through the open windows helping air out the overheated kitchen. She glanced once again outside. The sun’s setting always gave a beautiful glow to the valley.
“I hope they are trustworthy. Joe sure seems to like them.” Charlie wasn’t convinced Jessup Winfrow didn’t send t
he two men to sabotage her efforts and spy on her. The man was evil enough to do something like that. Hire men to work for her and undermine what work needed to be done. It seemed convenient that only days after Joe went to town to look for help, the two appeared.
It made her suspicious, they did not negotiate at all on the wages, seeming to be more interested in room and board. Something was off.
During supper, days earlier, she’d overheard Jerrick ask about her family and husband. But when Joe had not replied in full, they’d not asked anything further. Could it be because they already knew the answer?
There was too much on the line right now. It would be the perfect time for the underhanded man to plan something against her. It was uncanny how he seemed to know everything that went on at Horseshoe, more than he should, had spies everywhere when it came to her property and her.
If the cattle sale the following month did not go through for whatever reason, Winfrow would swoop in and buy them, just to prove a point. To hold something over her and she’d owe him. There was no way she could survive the winter without the money.
He’d already asked about buying them for a lower price than she had arranged with the buyer. He claimed he’d have to turn around and sell them himself and would barely turn a profit. Charlie closed her eyes, tired of having to devote so much thinking and effort to Winfrow. If only he’d leave her be. Find someone else to torment.
Yes, it would have been easier to sell the cattle to him and be done with it, but she didn’t trust the man enough to go into business with him. Besides she had a buyer of her own. And it was more than Winfrow offered her, and yes, it was still not as much as her husband would have negotiated for, but enough that she’d not have to worry about maintaining her ranch for the next year.
A month earlier, Winfrow had been enraged when she’d turned down his marriage offer, stating she’d run Horseshoe ranch into the ground without a husband. Jessup Winfrow’s cruel streak was well known.
She’d heard rumblings of how he mistreated his workers and rarely had a kind word for anyone. The man was both admired and feared in town. But she refused to back down. Somehow she’d make it on her own, she had no immediate need of a husband.
She’d been married to a gentle and honest man; Daniel Kennedy was a good man who’d cared for her and she for him. Their relationship had not blossomed to a love or passion, but she’d been content and well provided for. Her life was predictable, yet comfortable, never needing for anything. Then one day it all changed. Daniel was thrown by his horse and fell head first into a pile of rocks. He’d died instantly and she’d been left alone with all that had been his.
Mary Ellen looked to her. “You have the melancholy look about you. Missing my brother?”
“He was so kind and gentle. Caring to a fault,” Charlie replied with a soft smile. “All I could hope for when leaving my home was getting away from that old man my parents insisted I marry. Never expected to be blessed by marrying a man like Daniel.”
Mary Ellen laughed. “Although he did have his faults. The man loved the outdoors.”
“Spent more time out on the trail than home. He never understood why I complained about the countless days he was on drives and such. It was a blessing when you came to live with me. Saving me from loneliness and boredom.” She patted Mary Ellen’s hand. “As much as I cared for Daniel, his quiet ways were a bit annoying.”
“Yes, it was hard to hold a conversation when his only responses were one word at a time.”
They both became silent lost in their memories of Daniel Kennedy.
After helping Mary Ellen clean the kitchen, Charlie moved to the window and once again looked toward the bunkhouse. Earlier that day she’d watched as Patrick Callahan had washed up for supper.
From her bedroom window she’d caught sight of him going to the side of the bunkhouse. Shirtless, wearing only his long drawers, he’d caught her attention. The man was the most fetching she’d ever seen. Tall and broad shouldered, he towered over Joe, yet at the same time, she didn’t find him intimidating. On the contrary, she found herself enticed to know him better.
Mortified at spying, she’d tried to turn away, but became mesmerized by his body. Wide shoulders, chiseled chest with a light feathering of almost blond hair that narrowed to a trim waist, he was built perfectly. The man was tall, well over six feet. His traveling companion Jerrick Black was attractive as well, but it was Patrick who’d appealed to her.
“Stop it,” Charlie mumbled and turned away from the window. Daydreaming like a schoolgirl over a man who’d probably been sent by Winfrow to spy on her was not exactly the smart thing to do.
The next day, she felt strange. Her balance was off and a headache threatened. Charlie went about her day, gardening and such until late in the afternoon.
“Are you hungry?” Mary Ellen said from the table where she and Joe drank coffee. They normally remained at the dinner table discussing things after the meal. Often times Charlie joined them. Today she’d not been up to sitting at the table with everyone. Unable to eat with men who could be there under the guise of helping, only to do the opposite. Her stomach had turned at the idea of so much treachery. Ever since Daniel died, she was left vulnerable, easy prey to men like Winfrow.
There was the other problem of attempting to do business in a man’s world. As a woman alone, no one took her seriously when it came to dealing with the purchase and selling of her cattle. Joe did his best, but he was a simple man who didn’t have a head for business. If she were to be honest, neither did she. She was only married to Daniel for two years and had never dealt with any of the business side of things.
She slid onto a chair at the kitchen table, her mind on how to handle the current situation.
“They ain’t from around here, Charlie, no need to fret. Don’t think they know Winfrow.” Joe told her, his eyes roaming her face. “You look like death warmed over. You sick?”
“Got a bit of a headache,” she replied. “Joe we can’t be too trusting.” She winced when her temples tightened, the headache threatening to return. “I’m not going to ask you to send them away. I know we need the help. Are desperate for it, to be honest. Just keep an eye on them.”
She ate a small amount of stew and nibbled on a biscuit before pushing away from the table. “I am going to lie down. Mary Ellen, thank you, but I can’t eat. This headache is just unbearable.” When she rose, her legs buckled and she collapsed to the floor. Joe rushed to her as well as Mary Ellen who cradled her head. “We’ve got to call Doc. Something is not right. This is twice you’ve fallen out like this.”
Charlie wanted to object, but she could not form a cohesive sentence. It was almost impossible to keep her eyes open. Everything swam in front of her, Mary Ellen and Joe became hazy and her temple throbbed. Darkness loomed as she felt herself being lifted and jostled about. Too weak to speak, she allowed the fog to take over. Her last thoughts were that if she died, no one would grieve for her and in that moment a great sadness enveloped her.
“The doctor is here.” An unfamiliar deep voice permeated through slumber. “Would you like me to greet him?”
“No. Thank you, Patrick. Please stay with her. I need to speak with him first and while I’m downstairs I’ll get fresh water. She’s asleep, so just keep an eye on her,” Mary Ellen replied.
Patrick murmured a reply and Charlie attempted to tell Mary Ellen not to leave her alone with him. What was she thinking? Patrick Callahan was a stranger and a single man.
Charlie forced herself to wake fully and pried her eyes open. Sunlight shined through the window, the light burned her sensitive eyes and she squeezed them shut again. Her temples were not throbbing as hard now and for that she was thankful.
Knowing better this time, she turned her head away from the window and opened her eyes. In the doorway stood Patrick Callahan. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her. His gaze although soft, was still as penetrating. “Mary Ellen is downstairs. She went to see about the doc.”
“Why is the doctor coming?” her throat was dry and she wanted water, but didn’t dare ask him. He unsettled her too much, and it wouldn’t do for him to step into her bedroom. It felt too personal, not to mention, it was not proper.
She almost laughed at the direction of her thoughts. Who gave two fiddlesticks about propriety at a moment like this? Certainly not the people of Colter Valley, with its two saloons and rowdy population, it was a good town, but mostly a place where people from all walks of life had settled. Everyone was too busy concentrating on making it through life and although the gossips tried their best, even they had a hard time keeping up with the entire goings on of the bustling town.
“You fainted, did not come around all night. Miss Mary Ellen is worried. She sent Joe to fetch the doctor.” Patrick straightened. “How do you feel?”
Charlie closed her eyes again, not daring to keep his gaze. The man was too attractive and it made her feel vulnerable to lay upon the bed in his presence. She pulled the blankets up higher. “Better, thank you. You may go. I’ll be fine until Mary Ellen returns with the doctor.”
“Glad to hear it.” He didn’t move, instead studied her with curiosity. “My mother had such headaches. She got better during the winter, but when spring came she was forced to bed many days.”
She considered what he said. “I thought I was going to die.” Unsure why she’d blurted out the words to the man, Charlie wished them back. If only to pull them from being uttered and erased from his memory. She groaned. “I mean it was so painful and all.”
“Seemed Ma felt the same way many times.”
“Did they ever go away?” She needed to know. If it was the same illness perhaps he had the answer to her troubles. “Anything that worked?”
He looked pensive, his brow furrowed in thought. “Some herbage seemed to bring her relief. I’ll think about it and see if I can remember.”
“I would appreciate it.”
Without another word he turned away and left.
Before she could call him back to beg him to do his best to remember, Mary Ellen and the doctor bustled in. Her friend placed a drink in her hands and a bowl of water on a side table. She dipped a cloth into it and brushed it over her heated face. The cool water was refreshing and much welcome.
Lords of Ireland II Page 52