"How did you deal with what you... with what you did to... with Mama's death?"
He breathed deeply and let it out slowly. "All I can tell you is that I miss her when I get up every morning, and when I go to bed every night. I will miss your mama until the day I draw my last breath on this earth."
"How do I face this, Papa?"
"You're a Hunter-you'll face it head-on, and not huddled in your bedroom trying to avoid the truth." He let his arm drop. "I have a meeting with Edmund at the bank. Then I'll be gone fora few days."
She was on the verge of telling him about the threats Edmund had made to her, but the banker was capable of hurting her father just as he might hurt her brothers. "Why do you like Mr. Montgomery?"
Her father drew on his rain poncho and studied her for a moment. If he thought her question odd, he didn't say so. "I don't know for sure. Maybe it's because he reminds me of a time gone by-a time that can never be again. You may not know this, but he loved your mama, too. He thought she would marry him, but she loved me-you might say I took her away from him. Anyway, I'm grateful to him because he was the only person in all of Diablo who welcomed me home when I returned."
No-she could not tell her father about the indecent things Edmund Montgomery had said to her.
"You aren't going to borrow money from him again, are you?"
"That's nothing for you to be concerned about, Abby. Look after that mangy dog while I'm away."
She nodded as he swung into the saddle and rode out of the barn.
Later Abby rode out herself, the rain mingling with her tears.
Abby sat on the porch step talking to Patricia and General Tremain. She noticed that every gesture Patricia made was feminine. She walked like a lady; she spoke like a lady. No wonder Jonah had chosen her to be his wife.
Abby suddenly had the urge get rid of all her trousers. She wanted to be poised; she wanted to be ladylike-she wanted to be more like Patricia.
Abby was deep in thought, and it took her a moment to realize General Tremain had been speaking to her.
"Since your father said he'd be away for a long stretch, I wonder if you would consider taking us to the ranch."
She blinked in confusion. "What ranch would that be?"
"Why, my son's ranch-surely you know about it. I don't know what he was thinking when he bought land here in Texas. I always supposed he would return home when he retired. If you ask me, I believe someone took advantage of him and sold him a parcel of worthless land. I want to find out for myself"
"I don't know what you are referring to."
He sat down on the steps beside Abby and unfolded a piece of paper on his lap. "This is a map Jack drew up for me." He stabbed his finger against the markings. "And this would be the land my son bought. Have you any notion where it is?"
She frowned and took the paper, identifying the location by tracing creeks and rivers. "If I am not mistaken, this is the Taylor ranch." She looked up at him. "But why would Mr. Taylor sell his ranch?"
"Because he found someone with money who was unsuspecting enough to buy his worthless property."
"Your son is not a person anyone could take advantage of, General."
"I'll decide that for myself when I see the land."
Abby remembered Jonah telling her he would like to try ranching; she hadn't taken him seriously at the time. "General Tremain, this property isn't worthless. After the Half-Moon Ranch, the Taylor ranch is one of the most prized properties in this part of Texas."
He looked doubtful. "Will you take me there?"
"Yes, of course. I'll have Christmas hook up the buckboard." She looked at Patricia. "You might want to change into something more practical. It's a dusty ride."
"I wasn't thinking of going. I'd rather Jonah be the one who showed it to me." Patricia backed toward the door with something like terror in her eyes. "I didn't know he would want to settle here in Texas."
"I think it might be best if you wait," the general stated. "My son probably bought it for you as a wedding present."
Abby nodded in agreement. "If Patricia isn't going, perhaps you would prefer to ride horseback."
"Pd relish a good ride in open country, Miss Hunter."
"Then we'll start first thing in the morning."
It promised to be a beautiful day. The bloodred sun touched the eastern sky, dappling the land with an ethereal beauty.
Abby rode up to the house on her pinto, leading a sorrel for the general. He had just come out on the porch while she was checking her rifle to make sure it was loaded. After she was satisfied it was, she shoved it into her saddle holster.
He lifted an eyebrow at her after he was mounted. "Are you a good shot, Miss Hunter?"
She smiled. "Good enough."
He laughed, looking forward to the day ahead. "I just bet you are."
The ride was uneventful and they traveled in companionable ease. Abby found Jonah's father inquisitive and intelligent, and to her surprise she was actually enjoying herself.
"Tell me what you know about this ranch."
"I've never actually been to the ranch house, but I've heard it is very grand. At one time Mr. Taylor was a wealthy man."
They forded several creeks, and at last they came to the Guadalupe. "This river actually runs through the Taylor ranch, giving it a constant source of water."
He nodded, glancing down at the clear water that rushed by. "Is it ever dry?"
"It's low in years of drought, but to my knowledge it's never been dry."
He took out the map and studied it intently. "I think I can find the place from here. Let's see if I can."
She watched him turn his mount and ride down river rather than in the direction of the ranch house. "We have to head west, General."
"Not according to this map." He reined in and looked at the map again. "Look. Right here is the house, and here's the river."
"Yes, but you just forded the river, and you are holding the map upside down."
His brow furrowed in a frown. "You said you hadn't been there, and yet you question my judgment."
"It isn't your judgment I question, General, it's your sense of direction. Out here distance is deceptive because of the many hills and woods. It's easy to become disoriented by the sheer size of the wilderness."
She pointed to the west. "That is the direction of the Taylor ranch."
"I don't agree."
"You will be lost if you go downstream."
He clamped his jaw. "I certainly know how to read a map!" he said imperiously, reminding her of his son.
"You can come with me, or you can go by yourself-it's entirely up to you. But when you get lost, don't blame me."
No one had ever spoken to him in that tone before. He felt his anger flare, and then he considered for a moment. "We'll try it your way, but if you are wrong, I want an apology."
She smiled. "Agreed. And if I'm right, I'll never speak of it to anyone."
Abigail Hunter was like no woman he'd ever known. She was damned pretty, and she had a head on her shoulders as well. She had spirit and spunk, and he liked the stubborn streak in her-it reminded him of himself.
Why hadn't some man snapped her up and married her?
Jonah walked into the trading post with Sergeant MacDougall on one side of him and Grant on the other side. He now had enough evidence to take the Indian agent into custody.
The place was permeated with the smell of rotten meat, and Jonah's boots crunched against the filthy floor littered with broken glass. The shelves were spilling over with salt pork and range beef, no doubt meant for the Indians but denied them by Williamson's unscrupulous greed.
Norman Williamson was standing behind a counter of sorts; it was honed out of logs that still had the bark on them. A pile of wolf pelts lay on top.
"To what do I owe this honor, Major?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. "You don't often come down to my level, so there must be a reason you're here now."
"I can't rea
ch far enough down to touch your level, Williamson."
The man's dull brown hair was worn long, and it looked unkempt and unwashed. He wore a fringed buckskin shirt and trousers and fringed boots laced up to his knees. He was a large man and muscular, with a wide chest.
"Don't go too far, Major. I've been tolerant of you so far." His amber-colored eyes looked almost wolfish. "But even I have my limits."
"You have already reached your limit. I'm here to arrest you in the name of the government of the United States of America. You will be transported to Fort Worth, where you will be brought up on charges of cheating the Indians and robbing army payrolls."
-Norman Williamson's face whitened, and he sank down onto a chair. "You can't do that you don't have the authority to arrest me, and you don't have anything to arrest me for."
"Ah, but I do. We have traced the stolen payrolls to you and three other men. They were glad to tell us all they knew and to return their portion of the money." Jonah nodded at MacDougall. "I don't think he is foolish enough to hide the money here, but search anyway."
MacDougall saluted. "Yes, sir. With the greatest of pleasure, sir."
Williamson looked at the ranger with uncertainty and fear. "He can't do this, can he?"
"Yeah, he certainly can," Grant said. "You should have looked ahead to this when you started working outside the law and cheating the very people you were hired to help. You got careless, Williamson; you left too many trails that led back to you."
Jonah saw the fright in Williamson's eyes. "Put the cuffs on him, Grant."
"Sure thing, Major. It's always a pleasure to do a service for the United States government." He grinned. "This is the part of my job I like best. Looks like you aren't going to have to worry where your next meal is coming from, Williamson. The govern ment, being kindly and all, will probably agree to feed you for the rest of your natural life."
The man's face went even whiter as Grant handcuffed him. The ranger was enjoying himself too much.
"It might go easier for you," Jonah said, propping his booted foot on a chair, "if you agreed to tell us who your accomplices are."
"You said you already arrested them."
"Those men were nothing more than saddle bums. I want the man, or men, who gave you the information on when our shipments would be leaving Diablo."
Williamson shook his head. "I'd rather be locked up for the rest of my life than be dead."
1 Jonah moved forward and got in the Indian agent's face. "I'm going to throw out some names to you, and you tell me if I am looking in the right direction."
"I ain't saying nothing more."
"Edmund Montgomery?"
Williamson flinched. "I don't know him."
"Yes, you do. He was with you when you tried to buy the Taylor ranch not too long ago. I have witnesses to that fact."
"He's just a friend of mine. He was going to loan me the money to buy the place, and that's all I'm saying."
"If you won't tell me about Montgomery, tell me the name of his man who rustles horses from the Half-Moon Ranch."
"I ain't saying nothing more. I don't care what you do to me; it wouldn't be as bad as..." He shook his head, his color turning grayish. "I ain't saying nothing more."
"He's all yours, Grant. Thank you for your help."
"Don't mention it. I'm always ready to lend the army a hand." He grinned. "We're all better off now that this one is headed for prison."
Jonah started to leave, and then he halted in midstride. "Williamson isn't the head man."
"No," Grant agreed. "He's not smart enough for that."
Abby pointed along the tree line. "That will be the Taylor place just ahead. I don't know Mr. Taylor very well, but my brothers have told me he is a decent man." She made certain not to mention the fact that she had been correct about the direction, and the general wrong.
As they rode up to the ranch house, the place was astir with a beehive of activity. Some men were carrying lumber into the house, probably doing repairs. The barn was getting a new coat of paint, and there were even men landscaping the yard.
When Abby dismounted, Lester Taylor came out of the barn to greet them. "Why, it's Abby Hunter, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir. And this," she said, indicating Jonah's father, "is General Tremain."
Lester's eyes twinkled with friendliness. "Well, now, this is a real pleasure. I'm happy to meet Jonah's pa."
Tremain was looking about him, clearly impressed by what he saw. "My son bought this place from you?"
"He surely did, and became a friend to me for life. He saved me from sure ruin."
Abby was looking around as well. She didn't know how to interpret the feelings that rocked her. "There seems to be a lot of repair going on, Mr. Taylor."
"The major wanted everything done to fix the place up. I have to tell you, General, your son is the finest man I've ever known."
Abby realized that the two men needed to talk, and she didn't want to see the inside of the house. This was the place Jonah would bring Patricia after they were married.
She excused herself. "General, I'll be waiting for you at the river crossing when you're ready to return. If we are going to make it home before dark, we need to leave within the next two hours."
He was so deep in conversation with Lester, he merely nodded at her.
Abby sat on the bank of the river watching the clear water of the Guadalupe rush by. She had tried not to think of Jonah, but it was impossible to forget him.
She looked around at the beauty of the place. This was good land-Jonah would make a go of it, be cause he was not a man to settle for anything less than success.
She had changed drastically since he had come into her life, and she would never again be the girl she had been before she met him.
She plucked at her trousers and frowned. She still had the money Matt had recently sent her, and it was a substantial amount. She had tried to give it to Brent to pay some of their father's debts, but he had insisted that she spend the money on herself.
That was just what she was going to do.
She heard a rider approach, and she slid off the rock, watching General Tremain dismount. He was smiling as he came toward her.
"I tell you, Abigail, I'm seeing my son clearly for the first time. He has done his old father proud, although I hadn't noticed his worth until others told me about him." He rested his back against a huge boulder and spread his hand on the warmth of it.
"What do you think of my son, Abigail?"
"I think you should have seen the kind of man he was without someone else having to convince you."
"Dammit, gal, you do have a sharp tongue!
"So I have been told."
He looked at the sky and gauged the hour. "Why do you suppose Patricia didn't come with us? She's been acting strange lately. It might be that she is just homesick."
She was about to answer when she glanced down at his hand resting against the rock. There had been no warning rattle from the large diamondback rattlesnake that was coiled at his fingertips. The reptile was actually smelling the general's hand with its forked tongue!
"General, if you trust me, do not move a muscle-stay exactly as you are. Don't move!"
He froze.-Something-in her tone told him she meant just what she'd said. He watched her race to her horse, grab her rifle out of the holster, and cock it. He took a deep gulp when she seemed to be aiming at him.
"Trust me, General. Do not move your hand!"
He slowly glanced down, and when he saw the rattler every instinct in him screamed for him to run. But he trusted Abby, so he froze in place. He watched as the forked tongue touched his hand and retracted several times.
He glanced back at her as she aimed the rifle and fired. He whitened when he saw the impact of the bullet jerk the snake upward and slam it to the ground. His legs went weak, and he crumpled to his knees.
"You were marvelous," Abby said, going down beside him and holding her canteen to his lips. "You looked death in the fac
e and didn't blink. I don't know many men who could have done that."
He smiled weakly. "I don't want to ever do it again."
"Take small sips of the water."
"I'd rather have a shot of whiskey at the moment." He raised the canteen to his lips. "Damn, Abigail! That scared the hell out of me!"
She helped him stand. "Are you all right?"
"I think so." He saw the concern on her face and managed to smile. "Lucky for me you're the best damned shot I ever saw."
A smile curved her lips, and a teasing light came into her eyes. "I was lucky this time. I usually miss."
When they reached the house, it was long after dark. Frances had left food warming on the back of the stove, and the general and Abby sat down to eat. Over the day they had formed a bond and now felt easy in each other's company.
Patricia heard the laughter coming from the kitchen, and she went to investigate. Abby was pointing her finger at the general, and he was smiling.
"It's lucky for me that you trusted me when I told you not to move. I didn't relish the thought of cutting into your hand and sucking the poison out of you."
"And I wasn't sure you weren't going to miss that damned snake and hit me!"
She wiggled her nose. "You're just lucky I like you, or I might have missed on purpose."
He laughed and motioned for a confused Patricia to join them.
"What happened today?" Patricia asked curiously.
"Abigail saved my life. She shot a snake not half an inch from my hand."
Patricia paled. "I would have fainted dead away."
The general looked from one woman to the other, comparing them. They were both beautiful, Patricia in a refined way-Abby, mysterious, almost exotic with her catgreen eyes. Patricia would be an ornament for her husband; she would never cause him a moment's concern. She would be adored and paraded for all to see. His gaze went back to Abby. She would be a companion to her husband; someone to stand as his equal, to walk beside him to face whatever life threw her way. Both women would make admirable wives, but some men would soon tire of Patricia's sweetness. Abby would plant her scuffed boots and dig in if she thought she was right about something. Yet she was fragile and delicate-very definitely a woman.
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