In a Cowboy’s Arms

by Janette Kenny

  Miss Jennean swallowed her food and nodded. “I am fortunate to employ such a talented chef.”

  “Only meals I ever ate that a man fixed was on the ranch I grew up on,” Dade said. “What our cook threw together in that cook shack couldn’t compare to this.”

  The two laughed, and Maggie joined in, though a bit late.

  Maggie had suffered years of rigid meals with the Nowells. Conversation was always minimal, with them holding to the belief that children were rarely to be seen and never heard.

  Since she was nothing more than Caroline’s companion, she learned at a young age that she wasn’t to say a word unless spoken to. That rarely happened.

  “Is the food to your liking?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Maggie said, and in an effort to be part of the conversation, she asked Dade, “Tell us about the ranch where you grew up.”

  “Yes, please do,” Miss Jennean said.

  A smile teased Dade’s mouth, and she knew right then that he held a special place in his heart for the ranch he’d grown up on. But she also sensed a melancholy in him about the place and those he’d known there.

  Good and bad memories. She’d had few of the first and far too many of the latter.

  “The Crown Seven was a fine spread up north of Maverick, Wyoming,” he said at last, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. “The man who owned it–Kirby Morris–was from England. He came here with a dream to run a cattle ranch, and he nearly didn’t make it past the Mississippi.”

  “What happened?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “He was set upon by thugs one night and nearly beat to death.” A troubled look came over Dade, and she knew that event must have been far worse than he let on. “Reid and Trey, the two orphans I’d run away with, and myself happened on them. We ran them off. Kirby was so grateful he asked us to go west with him.”

  “Was he looking for stout workers for his ranch?” Maggie asked.

  “No, but that’s what we thought at first. He took us into his house and treated us no differently than he would have if we were his own,” he said. “Hell, he treated us a damn sight better than our kin had.”

  Miss Jennean toyed with her wineglass. “I heard something about that ranch and Mr. Morris a few months ago.”

  “I’d be mighty interested to hear about it,” Dade said.

  At first, she didn’t think Miss Jennean would divulge a thing. She poured more wine in her glass and leaned back in her chair as if mimicking Dade’s relaxed demeanor.

  To Maggie’s way of thinking, both of them seemed tied tight with anxiety.

  “The information I received was from a gentleman visitor,” she said. “I can’t divulge his name, but suffice it to say he’s a reputable lawyer from Cheyenne. The owner of the ranch hired him to dispose of it and the stock.”

  Dade snorted. “That’d be Reid Barclay.”

  Miss Jennean shook her head, frowning. “No, that wasn’t the name, but I can’t recall it now. Anyway, there was some discrepancy about the way the other shareholders–the original owner’s foster sons–were dispersed. I assume you are one of the shareholders?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I was,” he said, his jaw set so hard and tight Maggie wondered how he could talk at all. “The way it was explained to me, my brothers and I had to come to Maverick and claim our shares by the end of December or default on them.”

  “You didn’t meet the deadline,” Maggie guessed.

  He snorted and gave a jerky shake of his head. “I was in Placid when I heard about this deadline. But I stayed there too late in the season and got snowed in.”

  A deafening silence pulsed in the room and set Maggie’s teeth on edge. The image she had of Dade as a drifter had just popped like a carnival balloon.

  She was sure he’d been swindled out of his shares. “That was cruel of your foster father to set such strict limits.”

  “Wasn’t Kirby’s doing,” he said, clearly defensive of the man. “He trusted Reid, the eldest of us boys. Hell, we all trusted him to manage the ranch. Instead he got himself in a fix and had to put up our shares to get out of it. Last I heard he ended up selling the Crown Seven.”

  “Yes, that’s what I heard,” Miss Jennean said. “But there was some oddity about the sale. Something that pertained to the original stockholders being granted an extension.”

  “Then Dade might still own part of the ranch,” Maggie said.

  Miss Jennean took a sip of her wine, then smiled. “It’s certainly worth looking into if you’re interested.”

  Maggie knew he definitely was interested, but she also knew he wouldn’t stop his search for Daisy right now. Not when he was finally close to finding out what became of her.

  “I’ve been through Maverick before, long ago when the Union Pacific was being laid,” Miss Jennean said.

  Maggie wondered if the madam had been a track follower going from one hell on wheels town to the next, or if she’d had a different life back then. It certainly wasn’t a question she felt she could ask.

  “It’s prime cattle country,” Dade said. “Kirby imported Durham cattle. Had quite a big spread for many a year.”

  Maggie couldn’t imagine living on a ranch surrounded by livestock and cowboys. The isolation had to be horrendous in the winter when they had nobody but themselves to generate entertainment.

  Then again the idea of being alone with Dade for that long had her squirming. Would they tire of each other? Would they wish the winter would never end?

  “How many head of cattle survived after the blizzard of ‘86?” Miss Jennean asked.

  Dade’s expression turned troubled again. “Damn few. Like most ranchers in the west, that winter wiped us out.”

  Miss Jennean studied him. “But you didn’t lose the ranch.”

  “Not then. We were able to barely hang on until after Kirby passed on,” Dade said. “After that it was Reid’s dealing that we could not weather.”

  The way he turned to finishing his meal told her the subject was closed. Except it wasn’t closed. What had happened between him and his foster brothers still troubled him. He hadn’t spoken of them except in chance remarks,but the anger she sensed in him told her the parting hadn’t been pleasant.

  Now she guessed why. Dade Logan wasn’t a drifter at all. He was a cowboy at heart without a place to hang his hat, thanks to a foster brother who robbed him of his shares of the ranch he’d spoken of with affection.

  He was a man without a family who gave a damn.

  Her heart went out to him then and there. Yes, they had more in common than she’d imagined.

  They’d both had family who’d turned them out, both blood kin and those they’d trusted. The hurt and anger and hesitancy to trust that she sensed in him was as strong as her own.

  Only he might still have a stake in his home. But she wondered if he’d ever go there and make peace.

  “You’ve lost touch with your foster brothers then?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve no idea where Trey got off to, and I’m not inclined to visit Reid anytime soon.” Dade pushed his plate aside, his expression remote. “That’s all in my past now. Time to move on.”

  Miss Jennean bowed her head in agreement. “You won’t rest until you are reunited with your sister. I applaud that decision, but know that she might not have met with a kind fate.”

  “That’s more reason why I need to find her,” Dade said.

  “I wish you luck,” Miss Jennean said.

  The maid cleared the empty plates and served custard topped with fresh wild blackberries. Maggie restrained herself from digging in until Miss Jennean took the first bite. Some habits were just too engrained to ignore, even when a sweet tooth begged to be satisfied.

  “Now then, Miss Sutten. I need to know who you are running from if I’m to keep your stay here secret,” Miss Jennean said to her as she spooned up a dainty portion of the dessert.

  Maggie hesitated for a moment, torn between distrusting this woman and divul
ging the whole truth right now. Dade’s nod encouraged her to be honest. Dare she?

  “Harlan Nowell,” she said.

  Miss Jennean’s smile vanished, replaced by a brittle expression that startled her. “I know him. He doesn’t do anyone a good turn unless it benefits him.”

  “Exactly. He took me in to his home to serve as the companion for his crippled daughter,” she said.

  “How old were you?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “Eight.”

  The elegant madam shook her head. “You were just a child yourself in need of a home.”

  But that fate had eluded her. She was granted room and board in a clean nice house and was only required to be a rich girl’s playmate. For years she hadn’t viewed it as a horrid fate because she and Caroline had bonded as closely as sisters.

  Then last winter she had realized Nowell had a far more permanent duty awaiting her. “I tired of living under his dominance and ran away. So he hired a bounty hunter to find me.”

  “The man’s about as cold-blooded as a rattler,” Dade said. “Just last week he gunned down two of the Logan Gang while he was supposedly looking for Maggie.”

  Miss Jennean put her spoon down. “Your family?”

  “Two of my uncles,” he said. “I let it be known that we’ve headed up to Maverick.”

  “This is a very troubling situation.” Miss Jennean stared at her. “Why did Nowell hire a bounty hunter?”

  “He claims I stole jewelry and money, but I didn’t,” Maggie said. “All I took was what little belonged to me.”

  Miss Jennean leaned toward Maggie and stared at her with dark knowing eyes. “There is more to it than that. If I’m to help you, you must be honest with me.”

  Maggie hung her head, knowing there was no good reason to keep her secret any longer. No reason except that Dade would think less of her for lying to him for so long.

  “I’m not entirely sure of all the particulars,” Maggie began. “But Whit Ramsey’s father kept Harlan Nowell from going bankrupt during the panic of ‘73. They made a bargain then that Ramsey’s son Whit and Nowell’s daughter would marry, thereby joining the two major mines in the west.”

  “The crippled girl?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “Yes, but apparently the severity of her condition wasn’t known at the time.” She felt Dade’s gaze boring into her and knew he was debating whether to believe this story. “When Whit found out, he demanded Nowell amend the deal, or he’d call in his markers immediately.”

  “Amend it how?” Dade asked.

  “Whit wanted the contract to involve Nowell’s adopted daughter instead of his natural one,” she said.

  “You?” Miss Jennean said, and Maggie nodded. “I didn’t realize he’d formally adopted you.”

  Maggie laughed, remembering the disgust on the Nowells’ faces when they were faced with this dilemma of legally giving Maggie their exalted name. “He hadn’t, but he knew if Whit found out he’d been bamboozled, his contract would be null. He’d also be the target of Whit’s wrath.”

  “I didn’t know he could adopt a grown woman,” Dade said.

  Miss Jennean answered for her. “He couldn’t, not unless she agreed. Did you?”

  “No. When I refused, I was locked in my room.” Maggie wadded her napkin in her fist. “I overheard the Nowells discussing who they could approach about backdating the adoption.”

  “It must have fallen through,” Dade said. “The bounty hunter is looking for Margaret Sutten, not Margaret Nowell.”

  She shook her head, wishing that were so. But she knew the way the wealthy operated. Discretion was key here.

  “He’s trying to avoid publicity,” Maggie said, earning a darker frown from Dade that left her fearing the train of his thoughts. “A runaway servant won’t draw any attention. A runaway heiress would.”

  Miss Jennean drummed her fingernails on the table. “He won’t give up looking for you until he’s exhausted all possibilities.”

  “Even then Nowell and Whit will burn for vengeance.”

  “You’ve made powerful enemies of them,” Miss Jennean said. “If it was anyone else, I’d suggest you marry and put an end to this nonsense. But I know that won’t stop Nowell from exacting his pound of flesh.”

  Maggie flicked a glance at Dade and felt her heart stutter when he continued scowling. Now that he realized the danger he was in, he was probably thinking of a way to sever all ties with her. She didn’t blame him one bit.

  “What are your plans?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “A friend secured a position for me in a nursing school in St. Louis in a month,” Maggie said. “I agreed to help Dade find his sister during that time.”

  “Staying one step ahead of a bounty hunter won’t be easy.” Miss Jennean reached over and laid a hand atop Maggie’s trembling one. “You are welcome to stay here for the next month. Nobody will find you, and when the time comes, you can take the train directly to St. Louis.”

  Maggie bit her lip, seriously thinking over the generous offer. Dade would be free of his obligation, and she’d be on her own again.

  But would he see it that way?

  Chapter 17

  Dade watched the play of emotions cross Maggie’s face and knew in his gut that she was going to accept Miss Jennean’s offer. He should be glad that the madam was lifting the burden of responsibility off his shoulders.

  He knew where Daisy had been taken by Vance Jarrett and then been given up shortly after that. It shouldn’t be hard to find out who’d taken in a shy, pretty little girl.

  Yep, he likely wouldn’t need Maggie to point out his sister to him. No reason for them to stay together. No reason other than he wanted her in his life for more than a few weeks.

  “I don’t like it,” Dade said, annoyed that he’d been dutifully shuffled out of this decision.

  Both women turned to stare at him. Maggie appeared stunned but not shocked, and he was mighty pleased with himself that he could tell the difference.

  She was likely going to agree to do what she felt was the right thing to do. But that flicker of hope he caught in her eyes hinted that she was glad he’d spoken up, yet wasn’t about to admit it.

  He wasn’t about to try to understand why.

  Miss Jennean? Well, a smile wreathed her beautiful face and lit her warm blue eyes with pleasure, as if she had expected he’d object to leaving Maggie behind all along.

  “What’s wrong with my staying here?” Maggie asked.

  She would ask that. He pushed aside the personal reasons that seemed to be stacking up and reasoned out an answer.

  “Allis Carson will find out we came here sooner than we both want him to, perhaps by piecing together what the old man tells him,” he said. “He’ll find you, Maggie.”

  “Pray tell who is Allis Carson?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “The bounty hunter,” Maggie and Dade said at the same time.

  Dade leaned forward, his gaze locked on Maggie. “Miss Jennean’s men will keep him off this ranch, but he’ll be waiting for you when you board that train. He’ll follow you, Maggie.”

  Maggie paled. “You can’t be sure of that.”

  He shrugged. “You said yourself that Ramsey and Nowell won’t give up trying to find you. If Carson can’t wait you out, they’ll hire another man who will.”

  “Dade has a valid point that we must consider,” Miss Jennean said. “You’re safe as long as you’re here, but I can’t protect you once you leave the Crossroads.”

  “I can,” Dade said.

  Maggie lowered her head and sighed, and he knew she was fixing to balk about going with him. “I’ll just bring trouble on you.”

  “Sweetheart, you did that when you took on Daisy’s name,” he said. “If Carson can’t find you, he’ll come after me.”

  Her head snapped up, wide eyes searching his. “I’m so sorry.”

  He reached over and took her hand in his. “Don’t be. We’re in this together.”

  “You’re baiting the
bear,” she said, and he knew she was softening.

  “Been doing that since I was a kid.” Their only chance to beat the Silver King was to stick together. “What’ll it be, Maggie?”

  He leaned back and braced both arms on the table when what he really wanted to do was take her in his arms. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

  “Miss Jennean has been nothing but kind to us. Least we can do is draw trouble away from her,” he said.

  All that answered him was the metered tick of the clock in the hall. Damn, had he misjudged her? Was she going to turn him down anyway?

  “All right,” Maggie said at last. “I’ll go with you.”

  Dade drew in a breath, more relieved than he ought to be. Right or wrong he’d convinced her to stick to their original plan. Now if he could just honor all his promises.

  “When will you leave?” Miss Jennean asked.

  “Before dawn,” Dade said.

  “I’ll see that you have provisions to last you for your journey.” Miss Jennean gracefully rose and crossed to the glass-topped liquor cabinet, removing something small from inside.

  “Thanks for your generosity,” he said and got to his feet.

  He was too anxious to sit here at the table much longer. With Miss Jennean having callers tonight, he didn’t dare venture beyond the private quarters. He knew their horses were being cared for, so there was nothing to do outside.

  So that pretty much left returning to his room. If he was lucky, he’d be able to sleep instead of lying awake like he had most of last night, pondering if Maggie’s skin was as silken as it appeared.

  Now that he knew that it was, he’d likely spend the night thinking about running his hands over her bare form.

  “An old friend of mine owns the Iago Theater in Dodge City. She’s a bit eccentric, but you’d be safe there.” Miss Jennean returned to Dade and handed him an old nickel voucher that was stamped with “The Ruby Slipper” on one side, and “Good for one hour” on the other. “Go to the back door. Give Gwyneth this. She’ll know I sent you.”

  “I’ll do that, ma’am.” He pocketed the voucher and turned to Maggie. “Ready to go up?”