Matty mentioned the fine specimen of horseflesh he’d seen out in the corral, which opened the door for Harold to talk about his operation and his animals. Although horses were Matty’s brother Oscar’s passion, his pa’s ranch ran cattle and he could talk enough about both types of animals to sound knowledgeable.
Harold invited Matty to visit the barn and he took his chance to converse with the man one-on-one.
“I’ll be back.”
A panicked look crossed Catherine’s face. “But—”
He smiled at her. “Soon.”
He walked with Harold through the yard toward the barn. Chickens squawked and clucked, parting for their approach. A black-and-white farm dog lay in the shade of the porch, tongue lolling out of its mouth. In the distance, a man rode horseback.
Matty took a deep breath of the fresh air. “You’ve got a nice spread. That mare in the corral is good stock.”
“I don’t think you dragged your gal out here to talk about my spread. What’s your real purpose here?”
The direct question was unexpected. Matty had thought the older man would want to chitchat for a while.
He leaned against the corral railing, putting off a casual air, though Harold’s direct stare had his hackles up. After the confrontation with Ralph Chesterton, even Harold’s direct manner seemed suspicious. “I appreciate you shooting straight with me. I didn’t mention it inside, but my duties as deputy brought me this direction after the storms to check on folks. Catherine’s place has had some funny happenings.”
“What kind of happenings?”
“Somebody sneaking around at night. Neighbor on her other side has been making some unwanted advances.”
Harold crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s a shame. At least she’s got her grandfather to look out for her, though.”
Matty shook his head. This was where he needed to tread carefully. “The grandfather is getting up there in years. Catherine bears most of the work on the homestead.”
Harold’s stark posture with his arms still crossed over his chest didn’t bode well for what Matty was going to ask.
“You said you have two hands. I’d like to ask you to send them over to Catherine’s place and patrol every once in a while.” It didn’t have to be every day. But if Ralph Chesterton knew someone else was watching out for Catherine, he’d have to see she wasn’t easy pickings. A coward like him would give up when faced with opposition.
“I can’t do that. My men work hard for their pay. They ain’t got time for running all over tarnation. And besides, what if this other neighbor turns violent? I ain’t gonna risk my hands.”
Matty’s back teeth ground together. Harold would prefer to leave Catherine to the devices of a violent man?
“Besides, ain’t protecting folks what the sheriff and his deputies are charged with?”
The pain in Matty’s jaw only got worse as he bit back the words that desperately wanted to emerge. “Of course it is, but with Catherine being so far from town, it’s not feasible for someone to ride out every day and check on her.”
Harold shrugged. “Maybe she should move closer to town, then.”
Matty nodded to where the men worked just barely in eyesight. “Mind if I talk to your men? They might be willing to help a woman on their own time.”
Harold remained in his closed-off posture. “You can ask, but they both get one day off every two weeks and usually like to spend it in town with a little comp’ny.”
Where the man had been open and friendly inside with the women, his shuttered expression warned Matty off. He’d expected to find help in Harold Elliott, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Now how would he protect Catherine, once he’d gone back to his life in Bear Creek?
*
Catherine sat in the parlor with Michaela. Mrs. Elliott had excused herself into the kitchen after the men had gone outdoors.
She knew it would be rude to reject the piece of pie she’d been offered, rude not to sit down with her cup of coffee and chat.
That didn’t stop her hands from shaking.
The cowboy had abandoned her. She could see him through a large glass-paned window, standing with one foot up on the corral railing. Relaxed as could be. Talking, of course.
But inside, the silence stretched awkwardly. Catherine’s face heated and she cleared her throat. She cast about for anything to talk about. What did one speak of in a social setting like this?
Michaela only looked bored.
“Do you…have any brothers or sisters?” Catherine asked finally. Surely family must be a safe topic.
“One brother. He lives in Sheridan with his wife. I’ve begged and begged Mama to let me stay with them over the summer, but she won’t agree.”
An expression that might’ve been a pout crossed her face. “Sheridan has much better shops than Bear Creek. I’d just love to purchase a new dress, don’t—”
Michaela cut herself off. She smirked slightly—Catherine could well imagine what she was thinking. Catherine’s dress was old and had been a simple style when her mama had made it years ago.
Too different. You don’t fit, her mind whispered.
Catherine worked at showing no emotion. She sipped her cooling coffee.
Michaela seemed to grow bored with Catherine’s silent response. She glanced out the window. “Your beau is handsome. Is it serious?”
Catherine choked on a bite of pie. Coughed. Her eyes watered. “He’s not my beau.”
“No?” Michaela’s eyes sparkled with interest as she looked out the window again, this time leaning slightly forward. “Then I hope he’ll come back inside and continue the visit.”
A hot knot lodged in Catherine’s chest at the words. Why shouldn’t Michaela flirt with Matty if she wanted? She was pretty. Wore clothes fashionable enough to make Catherine seem like a brown sparrow compared to a brightly colored finch.
Catherine had no claim on the cowboy.
But the hot knot behind her sternum remained.
Apparently bored with Catherine’s lack of conversational skills, Michaela excused herself and disappeared into the kitchen.
Catherine’s edginess prompted her to her feet. She left the coffee behind on a fine-looking little table next to the sofa and moved to the window. Matty and the landowner stood near a corral. Matty’s body language confused her. The set of his shoulders seemed tense, but he had his hands out, as if he was pleading for something.
Soft voices from the kitchen filtered to her, now that she was standing closer to the doorway, instead of sitting in her seat.
“Did you see her hair?” Michaela’s voice carried clearly to Catherine’s ears. The disdain in her tone was easy to discern.
Intense heat crawled into her cheeks. Without her consent, her hand climbed into the curls at the nape of her neck.
The women were still speaking, but Catherine could no longer make out the words. She blinked back hot moisture that stung her eyes.
The only thing worse than overhearing the insult would be if the women came back and witnessed Catherine eavesdropping.
So she carefully made her way back to her seat on the sofa, blinking rapidly to clear the moisture from her eyes.
And none too soon. Michaela reentered from the kitchen, moving to sit in her chair in a graceful movement. She didn’t fumble with her skirt. She was perfectly at ease in her role as a woman.
Nothing like Catherine.
Several more interminable minutes passed in unimportant chatter before the men returned.
Shortly thereafter, Matty excused them.
“That was a pointless waste of time,” he grumbled as they trudged back the way they had come. “But at least we got to have a nice cup of coffee and that pie, hmm?”
She swallowed hard, unable to tell him what had happened with the womenfolk. Wouldn’t he think it was her fault for being too different?
“There’s no help coming from them.”
She raised her chin.
; “Not,” he said quickly, “that you needed their help anyway.”
He quirked a sideways grin at her.
He did have some redeeming qualities, she ruminated as they walked home in contemplative silence. One of which was that, unlike in their school days, the Matty she was coming to know now never made her feel less-than.
Chapter Thirteen
Dawn was breaking as Matty crept through the woods just south of the Pooles’ soddy.
He stepped on a twig and it cracked loudly. He muttered under his breath. If someone was out here, surely they would’ve heard that.
He’d woken from a light doze, his back against the barn, and smelled woodsmoke. Nothing had been stirring in the dugout—Catherine and Pop must’ve still been sleeping—so he’d begun a slow, quiet circuit around the perimeter of the property.
He hadn’t been sleeping much out-of-doors and his thoughts were slow to clear, but one question kept bumping loudly around his head. If someone were spying, why would they start a fire that could get them discovered?
He had no proof that the person snooping around three nights ago had been Ralph Chesterton. He had his suspicions, but he couldn’t take action unless he caught the man actively threatening Catherine.
And as he healed, he had less and less time to keep watch.
A murmur of voices had Matty ducking behind a tree. That sounded like two men, speaking in low tones. He slipped his revolver out of its holster, though he kept it pointed at the ground—for now.
He didn’t want to think about what the recoil would do to his collarbone if he had to fire the weapon.
He edged slightly around the tree, trying to get a glimpse of what and who he was up against. Two horses. Was that…?
Matty squinted in the growing light. That looked like his brother Seb’s horse. And behind the palomino… Edgar’s head rose above the horse’s flank from where he’d been crouched between the two animals. He caught sight of Matty and dropped the horse’s hoof from where he’d been examining it.
“What are you doing here?” Matty asked, holstering his weapon and moving out from behind the tree.
Edgar’s face brightened. Seb’s head came up from where he squatted beside a small campfire.
“Looking for you.” Edgar rounded the horse toward Matty. “You look like something the cat would’ve left on the doorstep. Why didn’t you send word where you were?”
“Your horse came home without you the day after you’d ridden out,” Seb added. “Ma’s been worried sick.” He stood.
“It’s complicated. I—” Matty’s words cut off in a grunt of pain when Edgar embraced him enthusiastically.
Edgar let go immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“You hurt?” Seb echoed as he joined them near the horses.
“Collarbone. Probably broken.”
“Can you ride?”
Matty shook his head in the negative. “The Pooles have been putting me up. As long as I watch my movements, I can get around.”
“Who?” Seb asked. “Never heard of ’em.”
The horses stamped and swished their tails, reading the human excitement.
“They’re a family homesteading out here. They…don’t get to town much. How’d you find me, anyway?”
Seb shifted his feet, his excitement palpable. “We’ve been riding from house to house, asking folks if they’d seen you and searching every little copse and ravine. The sheriff didn’t think you’d have made it this far out from town. We’ve spent all week on your trail.”
“Until yesterday,” Edgar said. “Floyd Chesterton rode out to tell us he’d seen you.”
Chesterton. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but Matty felt a surge of unease. Had Ralph’s brother purposely gone to Matty’s family? Suspicion flared anew. Once Matty returned home, there would be no one to watch over Catherine.
He moved to squat next to the fire, his brothers joining him there. Accepted a cup of his brother’s sludgy coffee. Breathed in the scent that reminded him of home.
He wasn’t ashamed that his eyes stung a little.
“What’s going on?” Seb asked.
Matty took off his hat, ran a hand through his hair. “Three days ago, I would’ve been thrilled to see you, would’ve sent you home to fetch a wagon.”
“But not today,” Edgar surmised.
Matty shook his head. “Catherine’s neighbor has been making untoward advances…enough that she’s shook up about it.”
“Catherine?” the brothers echoed unanimously.
Heat flared in Matty’s face, and it wasn’t from being so close to the campfire. “Catherine Poole. She lives out here with her granddad, basically runs the whole place herself.”
Edgar and Seb shared a glance.
“A woman?”
The heat in Matty’s face intensified.
“Someone threatening her?” Seb bristled, and Matty had never been so appreciative of his brothers’ protective natures toward womenfolk.
“She barely admitted to it, but a few days ago, I came upon Ralph Chesterton and it sure sounded like he was threatening her. Then someone was out in the barn later that night, made some noise and woke up the household.”
“You sure it wasn’t an animal?” Edgar asked skeptically.
Matty leveled a glance at him. “Once I started looking, it was hard to miss the perimeter someone has worn into the grass. That’s not an animal.”
“What’s he want?”
“She says he’s after the land. She’s got a nice creek. It’d make a nice watering hole if he’s of a mind to raise cattle. There might also be a stockpile of grain, though she hasn’t told me outright about that. Not much else of value around the place.” Unless you counted Catherine herself. Thinking about someone targeting Catherine in particular twisted a fist in Matty’s gut.
His brothers were silent for a long moment. Seb sifted through the coals with a long, slender stick.
“I’m guessing you don’t want us to rush home and bring the wagon,” Edgar finally said.
Matty rubbed a hand up the back of his neck. “I can’t just leave her here without protection.”
“What about the granddad?” Edgar asked.
“I can stay with ya. I’ve got my bedroll,” Seb said before Matty could answer. Matty read the excitement in his brother’s sparkling eyes and the roll of his shoulders.
But Matty shook his head. “You know I’d love to have you at my side, but Catherine’s grandpop has some… Well, he’s getting up in years and he sorta has this…memory lapse. Makes him real wary of strangers. And doesn’t make him much for protecting the place, either,” Matty said with a nod to let Edgar know he hadn’t just ignored his question.
Matty let his eyes slide to the horizon. He couldn’t forget Catherine’s sweet singing voice yesterday morning, or the pang of attraction that kept rearing its head between them.
In addition to the possible danger for Catherine and Pop, he also couldn’t forget the question that kept bumping around inside his head. If he left now, when would he see Catherine again?
Somehow he knew that if he left now, the tentative friendship building between him and Catherine would be over.
He’d go back to his life working with the sheriff and working the family ranch. If he had a hankering to see Catherine, it would be an entire day’s trip to ride out here and back, just for a short visit. If he could count on seeing her at Sunday worship or other social events like the town picnic, deepening their friendship wouldn’t seem so daunting…
He needed more time for more than one reason.
“I need a few more days,” he said. “Can you go home and tell Ma and Pa that I’m all right, that I’ll be home when I can?”
Seb scattered ashes, disappointment obvious in his frown. And Edgar held Matty’s gaze long enough to make him uncomfortable. Could his brother see just how much he needed to make sure Catherine was taken care of?
He couldn’t explain the need. It didn’t make sense for him to be so
attached to her, not when he couldn’t read her well enough to know if she wanted his friendship or wished he’d leave. But the attachment was there. He couldn’t walk away, not when she needed someone on her side.
“I don’t know how long we can put off Ma,” Edgar said. “Doubt she’ll go another week without getting out here to see for herself that you’re all right. And the sheriff’s been real concerned, too. He sent out riders that first day, but lotta folks been needed in town to see to the repairs. If you don’t show up at the ranch by Sunday, we’ll come back for ya.”
Matty nodded. It would have to do.
Six days to figure a way to keep her safe from Chesterton. Six days to get her to open up about what valuables she might have hidden on the place, in case that’s what Chesterton was after—though Matty doubted it.
Six days to get her to open up to him, to find out if she felt anything more for him than friendship.
*
Catherine moved through the woods as silently as possible. She carried a pail of early-season blackberries. She’d visited the patch for the past several years and somehow the conditions of the little pocket of woods always made the berries ripen a month before the rest of the berries in this area would ripen.
And if she missed out on collecting them, the wild birds would take them all.
The blackberries along with the syrup she’d made from the maple sap earlier this year would make a nice complement to Pop’s biscuits tomorrow morning.
She was nearing the dugout when she caught sight of something suspicious and ducked behind a wide oak.
Heart hammering, she peeked out around the oak. Ralph was skulking, half hidden behind a knocked-down tree that angled up from the earth, propped up by another, smaller tree. His attention was on the homestead.
Catherine looked beyond him, without moving from her hiding place behind the tree. From this distance, she couldn’t see activity in the barnyard, but likely he could.
It disgusted her to know that he might regularly be spying on her. No wonder his place was in such disrepair, if this was where he spent his time.
And…knowing that he was watching sent chills down her spine. How often?
Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Page 12