by Cox, Carol
“All I want is to be able to finish the job I was hired to perform. Is that too much to ask?” Bitterness edged his voice.
Hallie stood her ground. “Have you prayed and asked for an answer on how to deal with this, or are you just trying to figure it out all on your own?”
“We’d best get going if we plan to get any work done today. I’ll help you pack this up.” Jacob scooped up the plates and stacked them beside the basket, then shook the crumbs out of the tablecloth.
Hallie loaded their dirty plates into the picnic basket without saying a word. But Jacob didn’t miss the flash of disappointment that flitted across her face.
Eighteen
“I can’t figure it.” Tom Miller swept his hat from his head with his left hand and ran his right palm over his thinning hair. “They’re disappearing without a trace, just like before. Some of my riders checked back around that canyon where you found them penned up the last time, but it looks like the thieves have already pulled out and moved that part of their operation somewhere else. That would be the sensible thing to do, at any rate, and it doesn’t look like we’re dealing with a pack of fools.”
Jacob felt the familiar sinking sensation in his belly. “Do you have any thoughts on who might be behind this? Any at all?”
Miller pulled at his earlobe. “I keep wondering about those nesters holed up back away from everybody. There are plenty of blind canyons up that way, lots of room for them to keep a bunch of cattle on the quiet.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” Jacob said. Even if it isn’t very likely.
“They drift in and out,” Miller continued. “They could leave here taking our stolen stock with them. The next place they light, they’ll just be people who came in with some money in their pockets, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jacob promised. He picked up the reins and slapped them lightly on the horse’s rump, turning the buggy back toward Prescott.
Hallie tapped her fingers together. “That’s the third time today we’ve heard someone blame the nesters for this. What do you think?”
Jacob shook his head. “The ones I talked to didn’t strike me as the type to do something like this.” The sense of failure settled over him again like a pall. “But maybe they’re just pulling the wool over my eyes. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit.”
Hallie fell silent and stared off in the direction of Thumb Butte.
Jacob winced when the buggy wheel jolted in and out of a rut in the road. He shifted on the cushion, trying to find a more comfortable position. As tender as his backside felt, the pain in his heart felt worse. He would give anything to be able to take back that last remark, or at least remove the surly tone from his voice. Hallie didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve the sour attitude he’d been showing ever since the night his dreams of success ended with the crack of a Winchester.
What Hallie deserved. . .his heart swelled. She deserved more than he, or any man, could ever hope to give her. What an amazing combination of attributes: that sweet nature with a core of steel hidden underneath. And she’s stood by me, even when her father—and probably every other rancher around these parts—doesn’t think I’m the man for this job.
What would it be like to have a woman like that stand beside him for the rest of his life? No. Not just any woman. Hallie. His imagination took wings and soared.
The wagon wheel bounced over another rut, bringing him out of his happy daydream. Probably just as well, he decided, easing his weight off his tender leg. Thoughts of romance would have to be set aside for the time being. He needed to redeem himself in his own eyes and prove himself to Burke first, and that wouldn’t happen until the mystery was solved. That issue had to be settled once and for all before he could ever hope to ask for Hallie’s hand.
❧
Hallie set the last of the breakfast dishes back on the shelf and glanced around to see if anything else in the kitchen needed her attention. Satisfied she had finished her indoor chores for the morning, she donned her work gloves and walked out to her vegetable garden.
Her father cut a length from a roll of wire and stretched it over a gap in the garden fence. He looked up when she approached. “You’ve been fussing about the chickens scratching around your plants. I figured I’d patch that hole while I had the chance.”
Hallie smiled her thanks and picked up her hoe. “That last rain did the vegetables a world of good, but it sure set the weeds to growing, too.” She worked the hoe between the rows of carrots. Dirt rose in even heaps on either side of the blade as it cut through the soil.
Look at that. A few quick strokes with the hoe, and the weeds are rooted out. Hallie heaved a small sigh. If only the “weeds” in her life could be dealt with so easily.
She glanced over where her father knelt beside a fence post. What had happened to them? Life seemed to have taken a ragged turn of late. It used to be that her days went along in a pleasant flow, with no problems more difficult than deciding what to fix for the next meal and staying out of Pete Edwards’s way. Then Jacob came into her life, and the very thing that brought her joy became the cause of the greatest conflict she’d ever had with her father.
Why did it all have to be so complicated? She ran the hoe through another patch of weeds. Her father was a good man, despite his recent outbursts of temper. So was Jacob. She had adored her father all her life. She would always love him, but her heart had enough room for Jacob, too.
She loved them both, and yet that love didn’t seem to be enough to bring the two men together and heal the hurts they had all suffered.
Something had to change. And neither Jacob nor her father seemed incline to take the first step toward making that happen. That left it up to her. She finished the row of carrots and stopped to stretch the muscles in her back. Across the pathway that bordered the garden, her father hammered a fencing staple into the post.
Hallie leaned on her hoe and watched him work. His strength and unwavering devotion had sheltered her all during her growing-up years. She studied the face she had loved from her childhood. Throughout her early life, it had reflected that loving strength. Lately, its features were set in harsh, unyielding lines more often than not, and she felt a stranger lurked behind its stony exterior.
Today, though, her father looked more relaxed than she had seen him in months. He tapped another staple into the post, humming snatches of one of her mother’s favorite hymns. Maybe this would be as good a time as any to speak to him of what lay on her heart. Hallie summoned up her courage and stepped across the path.
“It sure is good to see you looking happy again.”
Her father looked up, his expression softening further when their gazes met. “It’s good to lose myself in a routine job. Takes my mind off my troubles.” He wiped his brow on his sleeve and fixed his gaze on a point across the valley. “I guess I haven’t been too easy to live with ever since those cattle started going missing.”
Hallie managed a small smile and gave him an encouraging nod. “I know it’s been hard on you.” She watched his shoulders relax and took heart. “At least we got most of them back when you and Jacob scared the rustlers off.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his reaction.
Her father’s jaw set, and he raised the hammer again. “But they got away. We still don’t know who they are.” He set the next staple in place and gave it a series of sharp whacks. “We had a chance to round them up and get rid of them for good. . . but it didn’t work.” He shook his head, suddenly looking years older. “After things went quiet, I thought they’d lit a shuck and left the country. Then we started losing steers again.”
He straightened and flung the hammer to the ground. “We could have been rid of the whole mess by now if Garrett had shot right at them instead of spooking the herd and giving them the chance to get away.”
“Or if you hadn’t jumped into the middle of things without taking time to find out what was really going on?” Hallie kept her voice
low, not wanting to provoke him. “He had a good idea; you know he did. It probably would have worked if things had gone the way he planned.”
“If I hadn’t shot him, you mean.” Her father’s face turned a dusky red. “How was I supposed to know it was him up there and not someone they’d posted as a lookout? Someone shot at me, and I fired at the only flash I saw. What was he doing up there, anyway?”
“His job,” Hallie shot back, stung by the injustice of his attitude. “Just like you kept pushing him to do.” She leaned the hoe against an undamaged section of the fence and stepped closer to her father. “You’ve acted all along like you thought he didn’t care about our problems. But he does, Pa. He had it all worked out. He just doesn’t do things the same way you do.”
“So what you’re saying is, it’s all my fault? You’re blaming me for letting those thieves ride away scot-free?” He drew himself to his full height and loomed over her. “Garrett’s twisted your thinking so much you’re willing to turn against your own father. I can’t believe this is happening, Hallie. You can’t see the truth when it stares you in the face.”
“And you’re so full of anger and hate, you can’t give a good man credit for getting things done his own way or give him a chance to prove himself.”
Her father’s jaw worked. “Don’t you talk to me like that. He’s proven himself, all right. Proven he isn’t half the man you think he is. Proven the only thing he’s capable of doing is to stir up strife between the two of us. He managed to do that without even breaking a sweat.”
Hallie saw the hurt in his eyes, and her own filled with tears. Oh, Pa. “Nothing is coming between you and me except that temper of yours.” She rested her fingertips on his brawny forearm. “Can’t you give Jacob another chance. . .for my sake?” She felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers.
“A chance for what? All I can see he’s ever done is come sniffing around here trying to sweet-talk you. I just wish I’d shot straighter that night.”
Hallie’s knees buckled. She clutched at the fence post for support. “You don’t mean that!”
“Don’t I? Look at what he’s done, trifling with your affections, getting you so stirred up you spend all your time mooning over a man who’ll never amount to a hill of beans. Why, if I had my way—”
“But I love him, Pa.” The whispered words stopped him cold.
Her father’s face twisted and he raised his arm. Hallie ducked away, sure he was about to strike her. Instead, he hoisted the roll of wire above his head and pitched it halfway to the barn.
He turned back to face her, his chest heaving. “He’d better watch himself, or I will shoot straighter next time.”
Hallie took a step back. “Pa, don’t. You’re frightening me.”
“I mean it, Hallie. He’s got your mind so full of pipe dreams you can’t see straight, and I won’t have it. You’re not to go off the ranch again. Not as long as he’s around.”
“But, Pa—”
“Don’t you sass me, girl! You stay up close, by the house and the barn. And if he ever shows his face around here again, you get inside the house and you stay there, you hear?”
Hallie clasped her hands under her chin. “You can’t mean that!”
“Don’t I?” His features contorted. “You just try to cross me and you’ll find out.”
Tears blurred Hallie’s vision. She blinked them away, then wished she hadn’t. In her father’s face she saw no sign of the softness she had observed earlier; the hard-faced stranger had returned. With a low cry, she pressed her hands against her cheeks and ran for the house.
Nineteen
“Maybe I ought to just quit.”
Dan O’Roarke looked up from where he sat braiding a lariat and stared at Jacob. “And do what?”
“Come back to work for you, if you’ll have me.”
Dan went back to weaving the strands of sisal together. “And what would you accomplish by that? I’ve never thought of you as a quitter.”
“I’m no quitter, just realistic.” Jacob strode across the barn floor and kicked at the center post. “I’ve never been this stymied before, Dan. They hired me because they thought I had what it took to stop the thieving. It looks like they were wrong. It’s still going on, as strong as ever.”
Dan set the lariat aside and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “It’s a big territory for one man to cover. You came close that one time, real close.”
Jacob shifted his weight to his left leg. “I’m just glad Evans didn’t get any closer.”
Dan raised his hand to his mouth, but it didn’t quite muffle his snort of laughter. “They’re bound to make a mistake sooner or later. When they do, you’ll be there to nab them. . . assuming you don’t walk off the job and settle for punching cows.”
“It’s honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I didn’t say there was, but there isn’t a lot of money in it for a fellow who might be wanting to start a family one of these days.”
Jacob felt his neck grow warm. “When did I ever say anything about that?”
“When did you need to? I’ve known you all my life, remember? Long enough to recognize the signs every time a certain young lady’s name is mentioned.” He walked over to Jacob and clapped him on the shoulder. “You picked yourself a good one, my friend. Hallie Evans is as true as they come.”
Jacob looked away. “Yeah, and her father hates me. And I can’t say as I blame him. Who’d want to trust their daughter’s future to a man who can’t do something as simple as track down a few rustlers?”
“It’s not for lack of trying. You’ve spent many a night camped out there on the trails trying to spot some movement.”
“And with absolutely nothing to show for it.” Jacob sent a hissing breath out through his clenched teeth. “It’s been weeks, Dan! How long is it supposed to take before everyone gives up on me, myself included? If I’d gone off with Buckey’s troops, at least I’d feel like I was doing something worthwhile.”
“Sweltering in the heat and coming down with fever? I hear they’re losing more men to illness than to bullets over there.” Dan stepped directly in front of Jacob and locked gazes with him. “You know as well as I do that God doesn’t make mistakes. Getting shot in the leg wasn’t in your plans, but He knew all along it would happen.”
“Why didn’t He stop it, then?”
Dan spread his hands wide. “His plans are bigger than ours. He had His reasons. And apparently having you here instead of in Cuba is part of them.”
“But why, Dan? What good am I doing here? I can’t find the rustlers; I can’t even see Hallie. Her father’s forbidden her to have anything to do with me, did you know that?” Jacob paced the width of the barn and raked his fingers through his hair. “I haven’t talked to her for a month. I don’t even know whether she’s all right. The way her father acts, I wouldn’t put it past him to—”
Dan put himself in Jacob’s path, bringing him up short. “I don’t know the answers any better than you do. I just know who I can trust.”
A horse bolted into the yard at a dead run. Eb Landrum leaped down from the saddle and dashed to the barn.
Dan crossed over toward him, his face creased with worry. “What’s wrong, Eb?”
The cowboy stood rigid in the doorway, his pale face twisted in a look of pain. Jacob could see traces of moisture around his eyes. “I just came from town.” His voice was stretched as tight as piano wire. “A telegram arrived while I was there. Everyone was talking about it.”
“What is it?” Dan demanded. “What’s happened?”
Eb drew in a ragged breath. “It’s Buckey. Some Spaniard shot him.”
Jacob closed the distance between them and gripped the cowboy’s arm. “He’s dead?”
Eb nodded. Jacob saw the muscles bunch in his jaw. “Right away, from the sounds of it. He didn’t even have time to say a word before. . .”
His voice trailed off, but Jacob had heard enough. He bolted out the
door without listening for more. He strode across to the far side of the yard and stood with his hands balled into fists, looking up into the sky.
“Why, God? He was a good and decent man. He had so many plans for himself, for this territory. Why Buckey?”
And why wasn’t I there with him? Anguish tore at him. Would it have happened if he’d gone along? Could he have seen something, done something to warn his friend and prevent this awful thing from happening?
Despair wrenched his heart. He would never know. The fact of the matter was, he hadn’t been there. And all because of Burke Evans.
❧
Hallie swished a dinner plate through the rinse water and set it on the drain board. She clenched her hands around the dishcloth and squeezed. Warm trails of water slid past her wrists and dripped off her elbows. She squeezed harder. Squeezed again, until her hands trembled with the effort and the cloth yielded its final drop.
She forced her fingers to open, one by one. The cloth fell back into the sink with a splash, but her hands continued to tremble. Hallie spread them flat against the counter to hold them steady.
There, that was better. Only a faint tremor remained. She hated the feeling of being out of control like that, loathed the inability to make her body obey the simplest commands.
And that happened a lot lately. The simplest tasks rose up before her like insurmountable obstacles. Even a routine chore like washing the dishes sapped every bit of her energy.
More than once during the weeks of her enforced separation from Jacob, she found herself walking into a room without remembering what she planned to do once she got there. And just last week, she spent hours searching for the eggs she’d just gathered from the chicken coop, only to find them tucked away in the flour bin.
Maybe I’m going crazy. That might explain why she jumped like a frightened deer at every sound and her recent tendency to burst into tears with only the slightest provocation.
Her father chalked it all up to feminine stubbornness. “Don’t think you’re going to change my mind by any of your theatrics,” he warned. “I’ve always done what I thought was best for you, and keeping you away from Garrett is the best thing I’ve done in years.”