by Jodi Thomas
“Is this the start of your new herd…uh, I mean flock, Payton?” Amos roared until he had to sit down and catch his breath. Tears ran down the old man’s rough bristles. He didn’t pay the murderous glare Payton leveled on him a speck of notice.
“What you gonna do?” Felipe patted the soft head.
“Before or after I kill Joe? I’ll have to take the damn thing back I suppose. No, don’t look at me with those sad, brown eyes. We’re not keeping it. It doesn’t belong here. We’re respectable cowmen.”
The door opened and Joe stuck his head inside. “Aw, dad-burn it! I missed the fun. Was he surprised?”
With a growl, Payton lunged and tackled his friend before Joe could block the attack. “I oughta rub your nose in the smelly ball of yarn. Surprised? Yeah, I’m overjoyed.”
Joe grinned in the headlock. “I thought you would be.”
“Leave things alone or you’ll see what other surprises I have in store for you.”
In a heartbeat, Joe sobered. “You can’t make my life any more worthless. On her worst day, Lucinda is my one and only. Losing her took my reason for waking up in the mornings.”
The gray, forlorn misery crawled inside Payton. He released Joe and motioned him outside for more privacy. “You haven’t lost her. Don’t ever think that. Lucy hasn’t given up squatter’s rights on your house, which tells me she’s planning on staying.”
“You reading a crystal ball or tea leaves?”
“I know that when a person decides to end something for good they pack up and leave. So Lucy isn’t finished.”
“Never looked at it that way.”
“Give her a few more days and she’ll beg you to come back.”
Come daylight, after Payton got through, Joe would be out of the doghouse one way or another. He’d had it. Someone would listen to reason or else.
“Reckon I ain’t got nothing but time.”
“Then you can cart this lamb back where you got it.”
Joe’s eyes widened. “Can you be a good friend and do that? I don’t feel so hot.”
“Skin your own stinking skunks, don’t look at me.”
“Will you do it if I promise to lay off the foolishness?”
Payton wouldn’t fall for that trick. “No.”
“I can’t leave tonight. Mr. Sanborn wants to see me after supper. Probably wants a tally of the branding. After the business part is done he’ll want to play poker. You know how he gets being cooped up with womenfolk all day.”
“Get one of the others to cart the thing back then. It’s not my problem.”
“Are you forgetting how I saved your life when you first hired on? You owe me.”
Payton’s mind drifted back to winter and the blizzard that wiped out a third of the herd. He’d ridden with the men to try to get a bunch of cattle out of the icy creek bed down in a draw before they froze to death. Domino lost his footing on the ice and went down. The horse was all right, only scared. He got up and ran, leaving Payton buried in the snow with an injured leg. Payton thought for sure he’d freeze to death before someone found him. And he would have if not for Joe, who scoured the drifts looking for him.
Yeah, he owed a debt for sure. But enough to take a bullet?
“I shouldn’t, but seeing how down on your uppers you are with Lucinda and all I guess I could take pity this once. Need I ask where you got it?”
“Nope. Amanda Lemmons will be less than thrilled to see you. I sort of borrowed it.”
“Figured as much.” If the Navajo was still there, Payton might find himself losing his hair. He didn’t relish returning to the scene of the crime. Surely, the woman wouldn’t be too mad though since he’d be wagging the dumb lamb home.
Domino gave him a walleyed stare when Payton lifted the saddle and slung it again on the horse’s back. He draped the bellowing sheep across his lap and set out.
Twilight fell by the time he crossed onto Amanda’s ranch, and it got darker still before he saw the glow from the adobe’s windows. It seemed welcoming if a body didn’t know better. Unease twisted his gut. The pitch black was eerily still.
Payton figured on quietly putting the lamb into the fold with the rest of the scrubby clan and leaving with no one the wiser. Only the noisy ball of fluff had other ideas. The blessed animal evidently got a whiff of its mother because Payton never heard such a ruckus from a small mouth. Then the collie started barking as if the world had come to an end and he had to alert everyone. Payton let loose a string of cussing.
The hellacious racket outside the house aroused pinpricks in places Amanda didn’t know they could crawl—like her brain and her heart. Something or someone was out there. Her feet hit the floor. She grabbed the shotgun and burst out the door to see a spotted appaloosa standing near the pen. Atop the animal sat the silhouette of a man bold as could be. A lamb draped across the saddle bellowed its head off.
The dirty, rotten thief! And he had the audacity to linger even after she’d caught him.
Fury swept past reason. With a squeeze of the trigger, orange flame spat from the killing end and sent hot lead whistling past the interloper’s ear.
“Move and I’ll make you regret it, mister.”
The scoundrel’s hands lifted. “This isn’t how it looks.”
Amanda stepped closer. Recognizing the proud profile of the man who had seemed to have integrity riddled the strength she wrapped around her. Payton McCord had shown her quiet respect. He’d even done the unimaginable—made her question her hardened opinion of cowmen. And now he was taking her lifeblood. A firm clench of her jaw stilled its trembling.
Damn McCord! Why did he have to go and prove again how easily someone with an honest twinkle in his eye and sinful way with words could take her in?
“From where I stand I see a sheep-thiever. That lamb didn’t hop up there on your lap by itself.”
“Confound it, I’m returning the darn thing.” Danger rumbling in Payton’s throat said he wasn’t a man to cross, but she was too busy trying to salvage her pride to heed.
“A likely story.” He could’ve thought of a better lie. Disappointment and tears blurred the figure. Her palm tightened around the stock of the rifle.
“I’m not used to being falsely accused. Why would I want one miserable little piece of mutton? Ask yourself.”
“Retribution for the hat? Or a reason more ominous. You work for Henry Sanborn. He wants my land. Maybe he hired you to take the sheep one at a time? That way I wouldn’t miss them until too many had disappeared. I don’t care. I caught you red-handed.”
“Put down the damn rifle before it goes off again. I can explain.”
She waved the weapon toward the fold. “Leave the animal where you found it and get off my property.”
Payton slid to the ground with the lamb in his arms. Fraser nipped at his pant legs as he marched to the stone sheepfold and gently returned it to its mother.
“I’m sorry you think I’d harm you.” He swung into the saddle. “Good night, ma’am.”
Just like that? She was supposed to let him go free? He’d moseyed by and killed her dream with no thought of recompense. Amanda meant to exact something. Making sense of the turmoil would be nice. Short of that, she’d take snapping on the leg irons that her father had pilfered off a convict wagon and feeding him mutton until he puked. That’d even the score.
She raised the rifle barrels. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting the hell out of here.”
“You owe me that explanation and I will have it.”
“That’s great. Now you’re going to shoot me to keep me from leaving?” He didn’t appear afraid, resting an elbow on the saddle horn. “Make up your mind. You want me to stay or go? I can’t do both.”
Amanda’s knees sagged. Which order did she want him to obey when she didn’t know herself? She propped the Winchester against the side of the house. It didn’t make much difference. Nothing did. She still lost whether she trusted or not. How much could a body
take? The futility of it all was too much.
“Do whatever suits you. Take the whole darn flock if you want. Be doing me a favor. I’m tired of trying to make something from nothing.”
She barely noticed that his boots made little noise when he climbed back down, or that he covered the space between them in a few long strides, until the deep timbre of his voice cut through the everlasting misery that wore like a second skin.
“You don’t mean that. Owning land has meaning. I don’t know why you chose this life, but you can’t quit swimming in the middle of the stream.” He touched her cheek with a calloused thumb, the warmth melting the edges of ice layering her heart.
“I’d prefer drowning over this slow, torturous death.”
“Nothing worthwhile comes easy. You have far too much courage to give up. I’ve never met anyone with more grit.”
With a shaky breath, she brushed a weary hand across her eyes. “You make it sound simple. Want to come inside? Looks like you can use some cider. I know I can.”
Payton shifted his weight. “This isn’t an ambush is it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I only shoot buzzards.” And thieves who plundered her good sense, she vowed silently. Amanda resisted the thought of the striking figure being in either category. McCord offered a ray of hope in her despair. He said he could explain. She wished to believe in miracles. At what cost would another mistake come? Still, she needed to think this cowboy had possibility. She liked the way he held the door for her, the light hand on the small of her back with his broad shoulders keeping the ghosts of the night at bay. She felt safe.
Fraser scooted between Payton and Amanda, racing to stand guard over the sorry piece of felt. The collie bared his teeth at Payton. Amanda gave the dog a pat and told him to shush.
“Don’t pay Fraser any mind. He gets cranky occasionally. We’re not used to visitors. Have a seat. I’ll get the cider.”
From the corner of her eye she watched Payton perch stiffly on the chair, gripping his new Stetson with both fists. He acted as though she’d rip the hat from him any minute and stomp it. How utterly ridiculous. She’d only mangled the other one because she assumed it came from the head of a cattle baron, not anyone she might fall in love with, which she hadn’t of course. Nothing wrong keeping company with a man who made her feel alive and protected.
Her supple leather moccasins scuffed softly against the planks as Amanda bustled to the small kitchen corner.
“I hope you don’t mind blackberry. John Running Deer has quite an affinity for apple and emptied the crock.”
“Whatever you have is fine. Don’t want to put you out.”
“It’s no trouble.” She plunked down two glasses and a jug.
“Where is your Navajo? Thought I missed someone.”
“He only comes to shear once a year. Usually he stays until we finish, but he got word his wife had taken very ill.”
“What will you do if he can’t return?”
“I’ll manage.” She bit her lip. “Always have.”
“Shearing a flock of sheep is too hard for one small woman, however wiry she is.”
“You think I can’t take care of my own affairs?” Anger returned in full force.
“Unload your slingshot. I’m saying I admire you.”
“Oh.” She sniffed.
Payton took a sip of blackberry cider. “Quit getting your back bowed. I’m not picking a fight.”
“Didn’t look that way skulking around in the dark.”
“So now we’re back to thievery.”
“What were you doing? You never gave that explanation.”
“I don’t want your damn sheep.” His dark glare would make an outlaw head for cover. “Joe pulled another prank on me. Had the lamb tied to my bunk when I got in off the range. You want to nail someone’s hide to the wall, go after him.”
“Must get God-awful wearisome using Joe as an excuse for everything.”
A tic developed in Payton’s jaw. “Damn, woman. Lord knows I have my faults, but I don’t lie. Or steal. Joe’s mad because Lucy still throws a hissy fit if he so much as glances at their cabin, and he blames me.”
“I guess I have no choice but grant the benefit of the doubt since I vowed not to step foot on the Frying Pan. If it’s true, Joe Long has both of us paying dearly.”
His face darkened. “Not for long. I intend to rectify the situation after daybreak.”
“Good luck. Women tend to carry grudges a long time.”
“Does that warning pertain to you, too?”
Amanda’s chin rose defiantly. “I don’t bother anyone and I expect others to mind their own business. If trouble comes I handle it, but I don’t go looking for it either.”
“What happened to fill your voice with barbed wire? Your fight with the cattlemen can’t be all. Someone dug a hole and tried to push you in.” A soft tone crept into Payton’s drawl. “Had to be someone you trusted to dry up every bit of softness.”
“I didn’t know it was so apparent.”
“Only to a man who’s been there before.”
Amanda measured the man next to her. The brush of his hand earlier against her cheek seemed to carry his brand as if to say he claimed her. His leather gloves were tucked under his belt. She vaguely remembered him taking them off right after he put the lamb into the fold. Did he think they smelled of mutton? Or simply to better curl his fist around the new hat? Not that she’d think of stomping it—unless he gave her provocation.
But she’d never do that to someone who loaned hope and buoyed her will to survive.
His hands fascinated her. They were calloused and strong enough to tame a wild stallion but gentle enough to wipe away tears. Such tender strength could hold a woman close and never let her go. She closed her eyes for a brief second and pretended that Payton would see more than what she truly was and be satisfied with it. She had captured his fancy in the hotel when he thought she was someone else. Could she again? Or would he find disappointment when he looked beneath the layers of resentment?
Rugged power radiated from Payton’s nearness, robbing the need for words. They could feel the other’s thoughts. In the silence she knew he’d suffered and lost something dear. A subtle shift in her chair moved her even closer. She could easily touch him—if she wanted.
What was his story? Life evidently hadn’t been kind.
“Amanda, if you’d rather not tell me I’ll understand.”
“What happened? Plenty of people dug that hole—my father, stepmother, aunt, and my beau. Take your pick. I mistakenly trusted them all.”
“I should’ve guessed a pretty woman would have beaus.”
“Just one. It was one too many. The rogue jilted me at the altar. I didn’t realize how much it hurt to be reviled by a man to whom I had given my heart.” Amanda raised her gaze and fell into minty green depths. She would accept no pity. “Isn’t that what you wanted to know? Go ahead and laugh.”
He took her cold hand between his warm ones. “Whatever you say stays here. I would never betray you. Besides, I have secrets I’ve not told anyone either.”
Tingles from his touch ran up her arm and thawed a little more of that ice encasing her heart.
“Doesn’t do any good to talk about things you can’t change. But I’m a good listener. Anytime you get ready to spill your secrets you know where I am.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.” Payton rose. “Appreciate the cider…and for not shooting me.”
“Well, there’s always a next time. I’ll work on improving my aim.”
Amanda regretted the granite wrapping her words. Sarcasm was a habit she couldn’t seem to break. It had been years since she even wanted to. Walking beside him to his horse, she was mindful how blessed tall he was next to her slight frame. She breathed the night air and wondered when she started to care so much about a saddle-weary cowboy.
Payton’s mustache twitched when he winked. “Keep that Winchester loaded. I’ll be back.”
Now what
had he meant by that? Was it a threat or a promise? She squashed the rising heat before it became full blown. But not before hope rose that he’d soon find his way to her door again.
That human voice whispering in her ear had possibilities unless she mistook the wink as lint in his eye.
Perhaps it wasn’t too late for her.
But just as the thought came she saw herself on that street corner, pretending to be blind. Could she ever be anything more than a pretender?
A crop of tears blurred the impressive form atop the horse as he headed toward the Frying Pan.
No one in the state of Texas sat a horse quite like Payton McCord.
Chapter 10
The sun still slumbered when Payton rolled from his bunk and rustled up some coffee. He needed time to go over the case he intended to make to Lucy Long. But speak his mind he would. He had to find his balance again—the sooner the better.
Putting the pot on the fire to boil, his mind strayed to the events of last evening.
Moonlight had played across Amanda Lemmons’s sensitive features, revealing the glisten of moisture in her gaze, and in the midst he heard the shattering of her heart. As the sound punctured the silence, he knew something he never thought to witness—the piss-and-vinegar woman who grabbed life by the horns and hung on, stood mighty near to getting thrown.
That hadn’t set well. Holding on and riding like hell for as long as a body could stand took principles and grit. She had all that and more, and it seemed his duty to remind her. At least by the time he’d finished, the woman who mauled perfectly good hats had returned. Her sort of strength grew on a man.
Amanda made him think of all kinds of crazy things like marriage and trying to get back what he once considered forever lost or impossible.
Six years ago he had a parcel of prime land and a nice herd of longhorn—a near-to-perfect life.
Then, it all changed in the twinkling of an eye. The railroad company rooked him out of acreage that had been in their family for two generations. When he refused to sell, they had their shyster lawyer forge a bill of sale. A part of Payton died when the judge upheld it. They booted Payton off his land with nothing but Domino and the clothes on his back. He knew what it meant to lose a life, a hope, and the starch from his soul. He shriveled inside the day they stole his pride and left him nothing to live for.