To Tame a Wild Mustang

by J. Rose Allister

  He’d thought no less, really, but still felt disappointment at hearing it. The cock that had been stirring to her kiss moments ago deflated. “It’s not my intention to treat you as anythin’ less than the lady you are. I’m sorry I got carried away before.”

  “It was my fault as well as the both of yours. So let’s just agree to behave a bit less shameful and go on with our lives. Fair?”

  He frowned. “Go on with our lives? Are you sayin’ you don’t want us to see each other?”

  She flashed him a guilty look. “No. But we have things to do, so best we get to it and stop fretting over what can’t be.”

  “I don’t have the means right now to court you the way I’d want, Miss Marsh.” He strode forward and took her hand. “But I can’t have you forgettin’ about me. I intend to do the best I can.”

  Kate smiled for the first time since he’d fetched her from her place. “That’s all I’ve ever asked of you, Mr. Tyler.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kate felt a tug behind her while she tended to a shaggy white billy goat. She twisted around and chuckled. “No fair sneaking up behind me to nibble my bonnet. That’s not breakfast.”

  The brown and white goat kid that was sampling the hat pushed back onto her shoulders gave a tiny bleat and clopped off in search of other snacks.

  She stood up and smoothed her blue calico skirt. She’d decided to be more subdued in her dress since learning that her “secret” with Will had leaked out, so she’d foregone the more practical split skirt for this doc call to the Greenley farm. Might as well give the townsfolk’s tongues less to waggle about for a while. Word might get back to her pa, and he was barely on the mend as it was after the unfortunate confrontation at Tyler Ranch.

  The billy’s hacking cough brought her attention back. She frowned at him. The animal was thin and fevered, and his white beard quivered. The implication seemed clear and required quick action.

  “Any idea what’s ailin’ him, Doc?”

  She turned to Tom Greenley, who was leaning on the fence outside the goat pen. If Tom had heard the gossip about her, he didn’t let on. His hat shaded a good portion of his face, but she could still see the worry in his expression. As well he should be.

  “We need to isolate this goat right away. And please, no need to call me Doc. Kate’s fine.” She had another thought and frowned again. “Is your family drinking goat’s milk?”

  He shot her a confused look. “From a billy?”

  She smiled. “From any of this herd.”

  “Oh.” He shook his head. “No.”

  “Good.” She sighed, unhappy to have to deliver bad news. “I’m not certain, but could be he’s got the consumption.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “Will we lose ’em all? What about my family?”

  “Your family will be fine,” she said, cutting off the rising panic in his voice. “As long as they haven’t been drinking infected goat’s milk. That’s assuming any of the other animals have even been exposed.”

  He nodded and hopped the fence, determination in his green eyes. “There’s another pen around back. Guess we best git him out of here now.”

  He grabbed a hank of rope hanging on the side of his barn, then slung it over one shoulder and hefted the goat in his arms. She followed him out and around to the rear of his weathered gray barn, where there was a smaller pen. A short ways off was a horse corral as well.

  Tom’s farm was larger than hers, with plenty of pasture land and a creek that ran just behind. Nothing near the size of Will’s property, but this was a homestead farm, not a ranch. The farm fields visible from here waved with tall cornstalks in a patch smaller than what grew at her home. Tom Greenley earned most of his keep working the livery in town, not selling or bartering off crops, livestock, or furs like a lot of folks in Tanner’s Grove. Her pa was one of them. Despite the greater size, Tom’s farm existed primarily to serve his family’s needs. She could see herself subsisting just like this someday, with a much smaller farm she could manage herself or with a little help. Other means would come from fees and barter earned off hoss doc calls like this one. A husband would not likely tolerate his wife rushing off at all hours when there was a home and other needs to attend. But then, at the rate things were going, a husband wasn’t anything she’d need to worry about.

  She scowled at the direction her thoughts had turned again. She hadn’t seen William or Jack much at all over the past month. So much for William’s talk about courting her “as best as he could.” Even when she stopped by to check the animals, Jack scurried off in a right hurry to “tend his chores.”

  Disappointment shouldn’t jab her so hard in the stomach. She’d been the one to say they should go about their lives. She could hardly complain that they’d done just that. William had been generous enough to let her pa stay at the ranch for almost a week to recover, though Clyde blustered and groused every moment about a man being under his own roof. Jack stayed quiet and out of the way while William helped care for her pa as though he was his own father, and that was something she could not be grateful enough for. Pa hadn’t even managed stay quite as infuriated with Will, and while he still made comments about that “young upstart,” his bluster had lost conviction over the weeks that followed. After taking Pa home, she’d seen little of Tyler Ranch’s owner and ranch hand. Now, William was away on a trip to some cattle auction, and she wasn’t about to visit the ranch with Jack there alone. Somehow, she didn’t trust herself to look into those brown eyes and not want to press him for answers as to why he’d been so distant. Or pull him back to her and bridge that gap with her body.

  Kate was still scowling when Tom put the sick goat down inside the smaller pen. “Think I’ll lose ’em all?” he asked.

  “I don’t see any signs of illness among the rest. Watch them close, though. Especially the kid. Meanwhile, you’ll have to keep this one in here while I figure out for sure whether it’s really consumption.”

  “So it might not be?”

  She shrugged. “There are less serious illnesses that can mimic it.” She hesitated. “How important is this billy?”

  He shifted his hat and thought a moment. “We use him mostly for breedin’ and wool.”

  “If you want to be safe, you could put him down,” she said. “But since it might not be consumption, you could wait a spell to see if he improves.”

  He nodded. “Understood.”

  “Just keep him quarantined well away from the herd in the meantime. This pen will do fine.”

  Tom headed for the gate and tapped it. “This latch is broke. I’ll have to tie it shut to keep him in.”

  She watched him take the rope off his shoulder. The dusty hank left a light tan stripe on his black vest.

  “Won’t the goat chew that?”

  “Might, but I’ll tie it high and strong. This is good sturdy hide rope.”

  She moved close to help him secure the hank around the gate post while she explained some possibly helpful treatments and early signs to watch for in his other goats. She was most concerned about the young kid. It would be most likely to succumb if the contagion spread. She watched beside Tom while he almost tied his finger into his knotting job. They were laughing together when an unpleasant female voice came from behind them.

  “What’s she doin’ here?”

  There was an emphasis on “she,” as though Kate were the plague or something equally distressing.

  Tom spun around and jumped away from Kate like he’d been struck by a rattlesnake. His wife, Jane, stared at Kate as though she were just such a dangerous snake. The redhead was frocked in a newer mustard yellow dress with a green apron and matching bonnet. She also wore a seething expression while bouncing a cherub-cheeked toddler on her hip with more gusto than was necessary.

  Kate offered the woman a smile. “Nice to see you again, Jane.”

  The woman ignored her, staring daggers at her husband.

  “Miss Kate,” Tom said, “I mean, the doc, just came to see abou
t our goat.”

  Jane’s gray eyes narrowed. “I told you there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that billy but his stubborn head.”

  “Actually,” Kate flinched at the poison gaze that turned on her when she spoke up, “it’s possible the goat has consumption. I recommended Tom quarantine it right away.”

  The child on her hip bounced harder. “Yes, off behind our barn. How kind of you to offer Tom your services.”

  “He called me.”

  The expression darkened. “A woman callin’ on single men is bad enough. But married ones?”

  “Jane, that’ll do,” Tom said in a warning tone Kate hadn’t heard from the gentle, kind-eyed man before. He glanced at Kate. “We’re right grateful for yer help.”

  His wife stared back in challenge and raised her chin. “If you’re finished helpin’ my husband with our animals, I’ll be glad to see you off.”

  The implication was clear, and the barb stung. Kate hadn’t had many dealings with the Greenleys, but Jane had always been polite, if not a bit reserved. She hadn’t done anything to make her react this way, leaving only one obvious explanation for her behavior. A burning sensation flared behind her sternum.

  “I’m about finished here, yes,” Kate said, hating how contrite and almost guilty she sounded. After all, what had she done wrong? Nothing but love a man. All right, two men, which truly was as shocking to her as it would be to anyone who found out. Still, neither was married—or the one Jane happened to be fretting about.

  Tom took a step forward, almost as if shielding Kate from his wife’s venomous stare. “I’ll settle up on the doc’s payment and see her off. You go ahead and take Jesse back up to the house.”

  For a moment the woman looked ready to argue, but then gave a curt nod. “Suit yourself. Have a nice day, Miss Marsh.”

  From the tone it seemed obvious every word had pained her greatly. Kate’s attempt at a smile no doubt failed to look genuine. “Good day, Jane.”

  Kate felt her cheeks burning while the woman stalked away, and Jane’s wake turned Kate’s earlier comfortable acquaintance with Tom to awkward, palpable silence. He cleared his throat and turned back to finish tying the gate. “I’m so sorry she acted that way. I’ll talk to her.”

  “No, don’t. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. She shouldn’t oughta be so inhospitable.”

  Kate offered a shrug. “That’s all right. I expect she’s got a lot on her mind, busy with children and a house and all.”

  He turned back and only met her eyes briefly before glancing at his dust-coated boots. “I tell her not to listen to town gossip, but I’m afraid it gits the better of her.” He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a coin purse. “Will this cover the visit?”

  The bills he held out widened her eyes, and she shook her head. “That’s way too much.”

  After some haggling she accepted half the amount, happy he was paying her in cash. More often than not folks here paid in farm goods, which was fine, but not always as useful as straight currency.

  “Thank you,” she said while he walked her to her wagon.

  “Don’t thank me. Thank you for your help—and your advice fer the goat.”

  She smiled. “I mean thank you for not holding that gossip against me.”

  “I got no use for busy-bodyin’. But I do got use fer a good farm doc. And rumor has it you’re a miracle worker.”

  “That’s just a different kind of gossip. But I appreciate your confidence.”

  When she boarded her wagon, her eyes landed on the house in the near distance. Jane stood out front, still clutching the curly-haired tot. She no doubt had watched Kate and Tom the entire time. Even from here Kate could see the fire in Jane’s stare, the distrust.

  All the way home Kate wavered between fuming over Jane Greenley’s rude treatment and feeling sorry for herself. What right did Jane or anyone else have to judge Kate based on stories traded at the latest quilting bee? How dare she assume Kate was some painted floozy who would go after a woman’s husband just as soon as look at him? Sure, she had raised brows when she ran off to take on a “man’s” job, not to mention join the ranks of women who were gradually coming to understand that pants were a better choice of garment for many tasks. Not in this town, perhaps. Still, being a hoss doc and wearing split skirts didn’t make her a saloon girl.

  Her behavior in front of the sheriff’s men and under the tree with William and Jack might, though.

  She circled around to self pity again with a sigh. Would she get this same kind of treatment everywhere she went now? She’d told herself it didn’t matter, that her help to William had been more important than worrying about a few wagging tongues. That was still true, but it didn’t make things less unpleasant. What if this hurt her slowly-building reputation as a hoss doc? What if people stopped wanting her to do the one thing she was truly good at? Tom Greenley hadn’t paid the rumors any mind, but others would. If folks didn’t move onto other gossip and forget, this blight could follow her like a black cloud on Sunday. Maybe she’d have to leave town, move somewhere that had never heard of the scandalous Kate Marsh. What would William say to that?

  Probably nothing. He’d be too busy with the ranch and traveling on business to even notice she was gone.

  * * * *

  William paced back and forth in front of his buckboard, feeling more ridiculous with each step. He should knock on the door and get it over with, but somehow he couldn’t seem to muster up the gumption. Kate probably wasn’t home, considering the wagon was gone and she’d failed to come rushing out of the house to greet him. Jack was waiting on him to return and lend a hand.

  Sweat stung his eyes, and he pulled off his hat to mop his brow. Where was she? Maybe she was inside, but didn’t come out when he rode up because her pa refused to allow it. Just because he couldn’t see a shotgun muzzle pointed at him through the windows didn’t mean the thought wasn’t there. Then again, maybe they were simply waiting for him to find his way to the front door.

  He sighed. Most likely, both Kate and Clyde had gone somewhere in the wagon, and Will was wearing a hole in his nerves and the dirt for nothing. A pang of disappointment hit at the thought, which he promptly chided himself for. Did he think Kate would sit around pining in the window, awaiting his return? She had a busy life without him, which she’d made clear more than once. Jack claimed not to have seen her while William had been out of town. She probably hadn’t had time to even think about him, whereas he had thought of her constantly. Those thoughts had driven him to the gesture he’d been about to make, one that seemed utterly foolish the more he stood in front of her place stewing about it.

  The imagined echo of her laughter at his foolishness made him turn away from the farm house. He was headed back to the buckboard when he caught the sound of hooves. Moments later, the Marsh’s wagon appeared. Kate was driving by herself.

  His stomach tensed in happy nervousness to see her again, her features perfect enough to speed his pulse even half-hidden by the bonnet she wore. As the wagon drew close, he watched her blink and stare at him. When she drew up alongside, she broke into a wide smile that clutched at his heart.

  He tipped his hat and returned her grin. “Afternoon, Miss Kate.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be gone another week,” she said in a jumbled rush.

  William sauntered up and helped her down from her seat, feeling a twinge of arousal stir when his hands closed around her slender waist.

  “I got done faster than I expected,” he said. “Besides, I was in a hurry to get home.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “Oh? Is anything wrong?”

  He winked. “No, everythin’s right. But I still wanted to hurry.”

  She fluffed her skirt while he took in the sorely missed sight of her. Her simple frock picked up the bright blue of her eyes. It was rare to see her in a regular dress, and he tried to fend off the image of what lay beneath the faded skirt. William had cleaned up and changed before coming to see
her, choosing a new brown cotton button-down shirt with a folded collar and fresh blue jeans. Hopefully, the scent of his shaving soap was a vast improvement over the aroma of a man who had been traveling.

  Kate frowned. “Why are you waiting out here? Wouldn’t Pa let you in?”

  He chuckled. “Wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t, but I just got here a short time ago.” Not quite as short as he’d made it out to be, but there was no point mentioning that. “I saw the wagon was gone and hadn’t knocked on your door yet.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see you. The trip was a success, I take it?”

  “More than.” She giggled at the grin he shot her. “Got a real deal on some cattle. Things are startin’ to come around, Kate. Life might finally be turnin’ the corner.”

  “I knew you could make things work.”

  He took hold of her shoulders. “Thanks in part to you. I hated to give up that red mare, but she and the stallion fetched a might pretty price. Got a taker for the foals, too.”

  There was so much more he wanted to say, but he hesitated. How encouraged he felt that there could be a future in their future after all sat right on his tongue, but better not to rush things. He wouldn’t disappoint her again.

  He smiled. “I have somethin’ for you.”

  He raced back to his wagon and returned holding a bunch of long stemmed wildflowers. The delicate scent of the cheerful purple, yellow and white blossoms wafted up to his nose.

  She smiled down at the bouquet and fingered a daisy. “They’re lovely. Thank you so much. You actually stopped along the way just to pick these for me?”

  He nodded. “I saw a field and had to pull off. They made me think of you.” Everything made him think of her these days, in fact.

  “How thoughtful. It couldn’t have been easy to keep these fresh on the journey back.” She laughed. “Unless that field was right next to my place.”

  “It was a good day’s ride off. I had to keep ’em in water.” He hesitated a moment. “Do you really like ’em?”