by Cox, Carol
Watching her fingers move in gentle strokes along the calf’s neck, Jacob marveled. What a combination of gentleness and strength. What would it be like to have a woman like that stand behind him? No, beside him. A prize like Hallie Evans should never be pushed into the background.
❧
“That’s a sweet boy.” A surge of relief swept through Hallie when she felt the calf’s tense muscles begin to relax. “I’ll fix up a nice place for you in the barn and you can rest and take it easy until you’re better.
“Poor little thing, he must wonder what he did to hurt himself so badly. And where his mother is.” She pointed up a nearby draw. “I saw tracks up that way, where the earth was all churned up. It looked like somebody was pushing some cows pretty hard. I wonder if the rustlers were herding them up somewhere, but this baby got hurt and they left him behind.”
She stopped talking abruptly. “Oh, dear.” She clamped her lips together.
Jacob glanced from side to side. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m chattering. I never chatter.”
His smile warmed her more than the spring sunshine. “I wish you’d do more of it. I like hearing your voice.”
Hallie felt her cheeks redden. She pushed herself to her feet and glanced down at her riding skirt. The once clean fabric now sported a coating of fine dust and bits of grass.
She dusted her skirt with her hands. He’s going to think I’m some kind of ragamuffin. She pressed her hand to her mouth. Jacob grinned.
“What?” she demanded.
“That dirt you just brushed off your skirt? It’s all over your hands now. At least, it was until you wiped most of it off on your cheek.”
Hallie scrubbed frantically at her face.
Jacob stifled a chuckle.
“I’m only making it worse, aren’t I?”
“Here.” He pulled a bandanna from his back pocket. “On you, even dirt looks cute as a bug’s ear. But use this if it will make you feel better.”
❧
“How is he doing?” Hallie twisted in her saddle to look at the calf riding across Jacob’s lap.
“Not bad, but he’ll be mighty happy to get down once we get him home.”
“Not much farther,” she promised.
The house and barn came into view quickly—too quickly, in Hallie’s estimation. She wished she could stretch these last remaining moments out for hours. Being with Jacob was like a refreshing spring rain on parched earth. He hadn’t minded her chatter; in fact, he’d encouraged her to talk. And with him, she found it easy to do.
“Here we are,” she said when they rode into the yard. “Let me help you get him down.”
Her father strode out of the barn with an expression like a thundercloud. “What’s going on?”
“I found this little fellow hurt out on the trail,” Hallie explained. “Jacob—Mr. Garrett—came along and helped me set his leg.”
“And he had to trail you all the way home, I see.” Her father gave Jacob a hard look.
“Just long enough to drop this little guy off.” Jacob slid from his saddle and lifted the calf down in one easy motion.
“Hallie could have brought him home herself. She’s a good worker. You’d best be on your way now.”
Hallie felt her cheeks flame. “Pa!”
Her father leveled a warning glance at her, then turned back to Jacob. “I lost another half dozen head this past week. You’d do better to spend your time looking for whoever has been stealing my stock instead of making calf eyes at my daughter.”
“Pa!”
Burke rounded on her. “You just settle down, young lady. You’ve hardly set foot off the ranch these past few years, and you don’t know the first thing about the way a man’s mind works. You’re easy pickings for the first young buck who comes along.”
“Pa, stop!” Hallie held up her hands as though she could ward off the harsh words that fell like lashes from a whip. “How can you say such things? Don’t you know me better than that? And what about Jacob? How can you cast aspersions on someone you barely know?
“You’re right about one thing,” she continued. “I haven’t spent much time off the ranch. But anyone with half an eye could see that he’s a decent, upright man.” Tears clogged her throat and she subsided, wrapping her arms around her middle.
Her father’s eyes bulged and his face took on a ruddy hue. “What’s gotten into you, sassing back like that? You get yourself inside the house, girl. And you stay there, you hear?”
Unable to hold back her sobs a moment longer, Hallie sprinted for the front door.
Inside, she collapsed against the closed door, then slid down until she huddled on the floor in a heap. She hugged her knees and pulled her body into a tight knot.
“Why, God? Why can’t he see? He’s completely blind to Pete’s advances, but he’s ready to tear Jacob apart without even getting to know him.”
Tears blurred her vision, and she pressed her forehead against her knees. With all her heart, she hoped her father’s insinuations wouldn’t keep Jacob from coming around again. But she couldn’t blame him if they did.
❧
Burke turned from watching Hallie’s dash to the house and fixed Jacob with a malevolent glare. He took a threatening step forward, meaty hands balled into fists. “I don’t know what you did to make her spout off like that. She’s never done a thing like that before.”
Jacob felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end like the hackles of a dog facing a growling bear. “Your daughter is a fine woman, one you can be proud of. You’d do well to appreciate what you have.”
“You’d better not have been appreciatin’ anything you aren’t supposed to, or I’ll send you home draped over your saddle.”
Jacob had to force his clenched jaw open before he could speak. “Mr. Evans, I resent your implications. Things happened out there just as Hallie said. I came upon her while she was trying to doctor that calf. She needed help; I gave it to her. We brought the calf back so she could tend to him while his leg heals. That’s the whole story. Period.” He jabbed his finger toward Burke, who maintained a stony silence.
Jacob swung up onto Cap’s back. “And now I’m heading out to do some more searching for your rustlers.” He dug his heels into Cap’s sides and left Burke Evans standing in a cloud of dust.
All the way back to the T Bar, Burke’s accusation churned his stomach. How can such a hard man have such a sweet daughter?
“He’s a decent, upright man.” Hallie’s words floated through his mind, the memory of her passionate defense overshadowing her father’s words.
He relaxed a fraction, finally able to loosen his jaw and work it from side to side. It was almost worth listening to that diatribe just to hear Hallie champion him like that.
“How could she know what kind of man I am? We’ve only spoken twice.” Whatever the reason, he was glad. The memory of her support would bolster him for quite a while.
❧
The shadows stretched long through the windows and inched their way across the floor. Time to light the lamps. Past time to fix supper.
Hallie remained curled in her tight ball. Muscles cramping, head throbbing, she sat alone in her misery in the gathering dark.
The back door opened, then slammed shut. Boots tromped across the plank floor. “Hallie!” Her father’s rough voice echoed through the house. “Where’s my supper? I’m hungry.”
He stopped in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the front room. He stood a long moment without speaking, then said in a quieter tone, “What is it? Are you sick?”
Hallie spoke without raising her head. “I’m fine.”
“Then why are you just sitting there in the dark? Why aren’t the lamps lit? Where’s supper?” He struck a match and touched it to the wick of the lamp on the mantel. “With everything else on my mind right now, I can’t be worrying about going hungry.”
“You’re right.” Hallie planted her palms on the floor and pushed herself up. “It wouldn�
�t do for you to have any more worries. I’ll make some sandwiches out of that beef we had for lunch.”
Her father hung his hat on its hook and headed for his favorite chair. Halfway there, he turned back, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “You sure you’re all right? It isn’t like you to slack off like this.”
He walked over and put his arms around her. “Tell your old dad what’s going on. All we’ve had is each other ever since your mother died.” He ran his work-hardened hand over her hair. “I know I’ve been short with you lately, and I’m sorry. It’s the loss of all that stock. It just burns me to no end to think someone is strolling in here and trying to ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to build up.”
Hallie leaned against him, remembering how it felt to be a little girl and know her daddy would take on the whole world to keep her safe. She let herself relax in his embrace and wiped her eyes on the front of his shirt.
She stretched her arms around his stocky frame. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll come up with something more substantial than sandwiches. You just sit in your chair and relax until then.”
His strong arms squeezed her in a bear hug. “That’s my girl. I knew you couldn’t stay in a pout for long. You’re a sensible girl, Hallie. At least when you’re not all dewy-eyed over some footloose yahoo.”
Hallie stiffened and pulled away. “I’ll go make your supper.”
“You gettin’ all fussed up again? What did I do this time? I don’t understand.”
Hallie stormed into the kitchen and leaned her head against the doorframe. “That’s just the trouble, Pa,” she whispered. “You don’t understand at all.”
Eight
Even though it was just after ten in the morning, the heat reminded Jacob of Tucson. His horse pushed through the milling cattle as he checked the final brands of this herd. He rode over to where the buyer and seller sat their horses beneath the shade of a large walnut tree.
“Everything looks good here. Every one of them a Heart Cross brand. I’ll sign off on that bill of sale, Mr. Potter, and you can be on your way.” He scribbled his name at the bottom of the paper. “How long will it take you to push them up to Ash Fork?”
“Four or five days should get us there, if we don’t have any trouble.” Potter folded the bill and placed it in his pocket. He shook hands and rode toward his cowboys to start the hundred head of breeding stock.
Jacob mopped his forehead with his bandanna, then used it to wipe the sweat band of his hat. “You’ve got some good-looking stock there, Bradley. From the looks of them, I’m guessing the range is in good shape over on this side of Granite Mountain.”
“This year looks good. And I’ll be able to upgrade my stock after selling these heifers.” Will Bradley gave a satisfied nod and reached over to pat the gangly boy on the horse next to him. “By the time this button gets big enough to take over, we ought to have quite a spread built up.”
Jacob studied the ten-year-old wearing a hat nearly as big as he was and held back a grin. By the looks of him, that boy wouldn’t be ready to boss an outfit for a good long time.
The boy flashed a grin at his father, then pulled a book from his saddlebag. Propping it against his saddle horn, he settled back to read.
Jacob turned a puzzled glance at Will Bradley, who merely shrugged and grinned. “He gets that from his mother. You’ll never find either one of them far from a book. He got his dark hair and those bright eyes from her, too. This territory has brought me a good family, a good life. Pulling up stakes and moving out here was the best thing I ever did.”
Jacob could understand his desire to strike out on his own. “Where did you come from?”
“New Mexico, up in the northeast corner of the territory. My father and uncle have a good-size spread. My sister and her family are up there, too. It was hard leaving them all, but I wouldn’t trade what I have here for anything.” He turned to his son. “Alexander, show Mr. Garrett what you’re reading.”
“It’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.” Alexander’s deep blue eyes lit up when he grinned. “It’s all about knights and jousting and stuff like that.”
Jacob chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “It sounds like quite a tale. That Mark Twain really knows how to spin a yarn.”
“Have you found a place in Prescott?” Will asked.
Jacob shook his head. “I’m staying on at the T Bar for the time being. There’s a fair amount of stock missing over that way, and I figure being on the spot might help me get a line on what’s going on.”
“Dan’s a good man,” Will said. “I’m glad he brought you up here. We’ve been needing someone like you.”
Alexander looked up from his story. “You’re staying with Mr. O’Roarke?” A mischievous grin crept across his face. “Would you tell Catherine something for me, please? Tell her I got a new pet frog, and I’ll let her play with him anytime she wants.”
Jacob blinked at the odd request. “Sure. I’ll be happy to pass that along.”
Will Bradley eyed his son. “And just why would Catherine be interested in a frog, pet or otherwise?”
“Hey, look.” Alexander stood in his stirrups and pointed toward the east. “Someone’s coming. I’ll just ride out and see who it is.” He kicked his horse into a lively trot.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Will called to his retreating back. He shoved his Stetson back and scratched his head. “I have a feeling I’d better check into that. Those two have been feuding since they were babies.”
“You never know,” Jacob replied. “They may turn out to be the best of friends someday.” The two men waited in companionable silence, watching the rider approach.
“That’s a Broken Box rider,” Will observed. “Bernie Harrelson, if I don’t miss my guess.”
Jacob nodded, recognizing the thin-faced man at the same moment. What’s one of Evans’s riders doing way over here? A knot twisted in his gut.
Harrelson pulled his horse up about ten feet away. “Afternoon, Mr. Bradley.” He looked toward Jacob but didn’t meet his gaze, focusing instead on a point just beyond his left ear. “Sheriff Ruffner said you might be out here today, Garrett, so I rode on over. Mr. Evans sent me.”
“What can I do for you?” Jacob asked, afraid he already knew the answer.
“We discovered more stock missing over the last couple of days, nearly a dozen head this time. The boss is pretty upset.”
Jacob watched the cowboy swallow repeatedly, like a cow working her cud. “Is that all he wanted you to tell me?”
Harrelson’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “He said he hoped you weren’t going to just sit back and look the other way like the last fellow who had this job.” He risked a quick glance at Jacob. “Those are his words, Garrett, not mine. Me and the boys know you’re doing your best.”
Jacob ducked his head in a curt nod. “Anything else?”
Harrelson’s gaze shot back toward the horizon. “Just that you’d better find out who’s stealing his cattle, and soon, if you know what’s good for you.” He wheeled his horse back toward the east. “I have to be getting back. The boss is going to have my hide for being gone so long. He figured you’d be sticking a lot closer to the Broken Box these days, with all the trouble that’s been going on.” Harrelson dug his heels into his horse’s sides and rode back the way he came.
A muscle twitched in Jacob’s cheek. He forced his clenched teeth apart. “That was a lovely bit of news.”
“Don’t let Burke get to you,” Will said. “He wasn’t like this years ago, back before his wife died. Most of it’s just bluster, trying to cover up the hurt he’s carrying around inside. He isn’t really a bad fellow. He sure dotes on that daughter of his.”
“I’ve seen them together,” Jacob said shortly. “I haven’t noticed much doting.”
Will turned toward him, a speculative gleam in his eye. “From your tone of voice, it sounds like you might be a bit interested in his daughter.”
“I’d better g
o see what I can do about those cattle.” Jacob touched the brim of his Stetson. “Tell Alexander I’ll deliver his message.”
❧
In the days that followed, Jacob found—and lost—more trails than he wanted to count. If a spring shower didn’t come down at just the right time to wash fresh signs away, the tracks would lead him on a chase up into a stretch of rocky ground, then disappear. Like the ones he had just followed.
He swept his Stetson from his head and ran his fingers through his damp, tangled hair. So much for getting into Evans’s good graces by my dazzling tracking skills. Bernie Harrelson’s announcement that larger numbers of cattle were being taken at a time indicated that the rustlers were becoming bold, almost arrogant in their approach. Obviously, they didn’t consider Jacob’s presence on the range a threat.
He settled his hat back on his head and surveyed the slope below the rocky ledge where his most recent foray had led him. How could cattle disappear into thin air? The answer had to be out there somewhere, if only he could find it. Jacob slapped his rope against his chaps, sending a cloud of dust floating skyward. They had to know he was out here looking for them. Were they watching from some hidden spot right now, having a good laugh at his expense?
He scanned the slope and felt his heart quicken when he spotted something that caught his notice. “Let’s try over there, Cap. It looks like that ground’s churned up a bit.”
Not just a bit, he discovered when he reached the spot, but crisscrossed by the mingled tracks of horses and at least a dozen head of cattle. “This is it, Cap, I can feel it. Let’s just meander on and follow the trail and see where this one takes us.”
The steel-dust seemed to catch his sense of excitement. The horse’s steps quickened as he stepped out briskly, ears alert. They followed the tracks for nearly a mile. Twice, smaller numbers of tracks joined the main group from the sides. “They were pushing a pretty good-sized group here,” Jacob mused. “Looks like they weren’t afraid of being noticed. They’re either feeling pretty confident of their ability, or they don’t have a very high regard for mine.”
But this time they’d overplayed their hand. The case was about to break; he could feel it in his bones. He half-expected to run across the stolen cattle every time he rounded a hill or topped a rise. A half mile farther, the trail made a sharp turn to the right, then dipped down into a dry wash.