Dawn Comes Early

by Margaret Brownley

  “I’m not your pa,” he said, as if a simple statement would set everything right. “I’m not those other men.”

  She took a sharp intake of air. She wanted so much to believe him. She wanted to believe in goodness and kindness and love everlasting, but how could she? The only real happiness she’d ever known had been here on the ranch. She could now ride a horse almost as well as the cowpokes and had grown to love the desert’s stark beauty. There was no place else she would rather live. So why did Luke always make her question her own motives and desires?

  “Goldilocks!”

  She glanced at the ranch house. Ruckus beckoned from the verandah and Kate fought for resolve. Land was her future. It offered her permanence, and that was something she’d never known. Marriage offered no such security, and neither did Luke.

  She gazed at his handsome face and could hardly breathe. He was like other men, he was. She had to believe that, because to believe otherwise could put her future in jeopardy.

  “I’ve got to go.” She turned to leave, but Luke caught her by the wrist, his fingers pressed firmly into her flesh. She lifted her gaze to his beseeching eyes and she felt her last bit of control slip away.

  “I’m asking you . . . pleading with you not to sign those papers.”

  “Goldilocks!”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. She was pulled in two different directions. Luke could never give her the security she needed, so why did she feel tempted by him? Had he not stepped back at that moment, his face grim, she might have altogether caved in—and that would have been a terrible mistake.

  “Kate, the truth is . . . I have a hankering for you.”

  “A . . . hankering?”

  He frowned. “I guess there’s no choice but to spell it out. I love you, Kate Tenney, and I plumb don’t know how to say it any clearer than that.”

  She shook her head and backed away from him. His words were like a slap in the face. Love was not what she wanted to hear. Love isn’t gentle. Love isn’t kind. Love isn’t lasting. He held out his hand and she backed away more.

  “If you turn away now, that will be the end, I swear.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Hurt glittered in his eyes, but nothing could be done about that. He’d soon forget her. Maybe by tomorrow or sometime next week. That’s how men were. Here today, gone tomorrow.

  “Kate?”

  Hand on her hat, she turned and ran. She was one signature away from a bright and happy future. It was what she wanted. It was what she'd hoped for and prayed for and worked for these past few months. So why did it feel like she was running away?

  Chapter 34

  Everything in order?” Eleanor asked.

  She sat behind her desk peering through her spectacles at her lawyer, Jesse Barker. Her doctor insisted she wear them for close work, but they were more trouble than they were worth. She pulled the glasses off and tossed them aside.

  Barker stuck his quizzing glass in his right eye and riffled through the document in his hand. “Yes. All she has to do is sign on the dotted line.”

  Her lawyer’s ill-chosen plaid suit and dated handlebar mustache hid a brilliant legal mind, and Eleanor trusted him implicitly with her affairs. He had an office in Tombstone between Tough Nut and Allen Streets and claimed to try more cases in the town’s many saloons than the stately courthouse.

  “I think you’re making a big mistake,” Robert said. “Turning this property over to a woman who can barely stay in a saddle makes no sense.” Robert leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front, handsome as ever.

  “O.T. and Ruckus say she has potential,” Eleanor said. Both men did, however, express reservations regarding Kate’s tendency to daydream. A problem, indeed. Working with cattle demanded one’s full and undivided attention. But the girl had tenacity, and Eleanor was convinced that proper training would overcome her less desirable traits.

  “Actually, she reminds me a little of myself.”

  The truth was—and she hadn’t even admitted this to Robert—she was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of trying to stay ahead of the competition. Ever since Geronimo’s surrender nine years earlier, an alarming influx of settlers had flocked to the area. Cattle ranches had popped up like grass in the rain. Some were small and some, like the Three C Company with its thirty thousand heads of cattle, enormous. All infringing on the Last Chance financially and physically, using up precious resources.

  What the Last Chance needed was young blood to carry it into the next century. Eleanor needed someone to bounce ideas off and do the heavy lifting, under her watchful eye, of course. She needed someone with the tenacity of a desert flower, willing to fight the battles, meet the challenges, and stay progressive. Someone with the imagination of a writer. Oh yes. She needed Kate.

  “There will never be anyone like you,” Robert said.

  “I had to learn and she’ll learn too.”

  “You could sell this property and be set for life,” he persisted.

  She regarded him from beneath raised eyebrows. “And then what?”

  “You could travel. You live in Arizona Territory and you’ve never even seen the Grand Canyon.”

  She laughed. “At my age I try to avoid anything that resembles a hole in the ground.”

  “Ah, but there’s always Paris,” he said, his eyes aglow with teasing lights.

  Eleanor grimaced. “Robert, you have no sense of posterity. My mother started this ranch and she made me promise to pass it on to my children.” Her gaze dropped to the drawer where she kept a daguerreotype of her long-deceased daughter. “Unfortunately, that was not meant to be. Miss Tenney is the next best thing.”

  “You have a brother. Surely he has a family? Wouldn’t it make more sense to leave the ranch to one of your nieces or nephews? I know a Pinkerton detective who would be happy to track down your family.”

  Eleanor planted the palms of both hands on her forehead. “Stop right there. I have no desire to see my brother or his family.” Stephen was just as much a ne’er-do-well as their father, and she had no intention of tracking him down after all these years. “I have my heiress.”

  Robert scoffed. “Since you insist Miss Tenney not marry, who will inherit the ranch from her?”

  She pointed to the papers in her lawyer’s hand. “It’s all written out. She will do what I have done. She will find a suitable candidate as her replacement.”

  “There may not be a ranch by then,” he said.

  “Nonsense. People will always eat beef. It’s in their blood.”

  “Yes, but even the Babbitts have diversified.”

  Eleanor rolled her eyes. The so-called cattle barons of northern Arizona had invested in mercantile stores, of all things. “That’s because they don’t know what they’re doing. Anyone foolish enough to run sheep and cattle on the same spread has no business calling himself a rancher.”

  “Maybe not, but even you have to admit the cattle business is on the decline. The railroad has made cattle drives obsolete. Now everyone thinks he’s a rancher. Too much competition has lowered the prices. I don’t need to tell you this.”

  “Yes, it is harder today.” The depression of ’93 hadn’t helped. “But I’ve survived worse times.”

  It made her head swim just to think about it. The Last Chance had survived the hardest of times, but that was only because she went after business with no thought of politics or popular opinion. She sold to both the Union and Confederate armies, even though others condemned her and called her a traitor.

  Now she held a lucrative contract with the US government to supply meat to Indians and forts. True, she lost business last year when Fort Bowie was abandoned, but that was only one market. Others were bound to take its place.

  Fortunately, the range wars of Pleasant Valley hadn’t affected her. The biggest threat was the recent surge of eastern speculators. Of course, rustlers were a constant worry, but there was talk about organizing a group of lawmen similar to the Texas Rangers. If the Arizona Ran
gers became reality, then livestock thieves would no doubt go the way of cattle drives.

  Oh yes, the ranch had survived despite the worst possible circumstances, and she was convinced that with her know-how and Kate’s imagination, Last Chance would continue to thrive.

  For several moments Robert said nothing. Instead, he stared out the window. Finally, he said, “Selling the ranch now would be your wisest course of action.” He turned to face the lawyer. “Don’t you agree, Barker?”

  Before Barker could answer, a knock came at the door.

  “I believe this is the wisest course of action,” Eleanor said beneath her breath. She lifted her voice. “Come in.” She glanced at her railroad watch. It was 4:00 p.m. on the nose. She considered Kate’s promptness a good sign.

  Kate entered looking grim, maybe even worried. Excellent. That could only mean that she understood the seriousness of what she was about to sign.

  Eleanor quickly made the introductions. “This is Mr. Barker, my lawyer. And Mr. Stackman, my banker. I’m sure you’ll get to know both of them quite well in the years ahead.”

  Kate offered first Mr. Barker and then Mr. Stackman her hand. Robert, ever the gentlemen, raised her hand to his mouth. “A pleasure.”

  Eleanor pointed to the empty chair in front of her desk. “Do sit.” She was anxious to get the formalities over with as quickly as possible.

  Kate ran her hands down her sides and stared at the thick document on the desk. Not that Eleanor could blame her. It took Eleanor less than five minutes to lay out the provisions she wanted in the contract, but nearly fifty pages for her lawyer to turn them into legal terms.

  “It won’t bite you,” Eleanor said lightly, in an effort to put her at ease. “It’s just my lawyer’s way of trying to justify his outrageous stipend.”

  She made a face at Robert, signaling him to drop the dark look and be happy for her.

  Robert refused to comply and his expression only grew grimmer.

  Kate took her seat in front of the desk and folded her hands on her lap.

  “Mr. Barker, would you be kind enough to go over the documents with Miss Tenney?” Eleanor said.

  The lawyer obliged, his monotone voice seeming to hum on forever.

  Eleanor impatiently tapped her fingers. All the therefores and thereons gave her a headache. Who talked like that?

  “Do you have any questions?” Mr. Barker asked at last.

  Kate shook her head and then changed her mind. “I do have one question.” She looked directly at Eleanor. “I noticed that the typewriter has been moved.”

  Eleanor sat back in her chair, annoyed. She was about to turn over her ranch and all the girl could worry about was the typewriter? She glanced up at Robert, whose “I told you so” look annoyed her even more.

  “It was just taking up space and I hardly had occasion to use it,” she said in a voice meant to discourage further discussion of the matter.

  “Would you have an objection to my ordering one of my own?” Kate persisted.

  Eleanor leveled Kate with a cold stare. “I have no objection as long as it doesn’t interfere with ranch business.”

  “It won’t,” Kate assured her.

  “Very well, then. Let’s get on with it.” Eleanor gestured for her lawyer to proceed.

  Barker unfolded the document and spread it on the desk in front of her. “I’ll need both your signatures.”

  Anxious to get the tiresome business over with, Eleanor reached for her pen and dipped the nib into the inkwell. She signed the document with a flourish and blew the ink dry. She then handed the pen to Kate.

  Kate took it in hand and waited until Barker had positioned the contract in front of her.

  She touched the pen to paper and Eleanor held her breath and waited.

  Kate stared at her name typed neatly on the document in front of her. With a mark of her pen she would eventually become known as Miss Katherine Tenney, ranch owner, landowner. Boss lady. Who would have ever thought such a thing possible?

  “I have a hankering for you.”

  Her hand shook. This was what she wanted. She wanted the permanence and the respectability that only land could offer her.

  “I love you, Kate Tenney, and I plumb don’t know how to say it any clearer than that.”

  She tightened her grip on the pen and it was as if her fingers cut off her breathing.

  “Is something the matter?” the lawyer asked. “Some clause you don’t understand?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She pressed the nib of the pen onto the dotted line, but some invisible force prevented her from writing.

  “Yes.” She blinked back tears as she met Miss Walker’s gray eyes. “I . . . I thought I was ready to do this. I want to do it but . . .”

  “Go on,” Miss Walker said, her voice taut.

  Kate stuck the pen in the penholder, laid her hands on her lap, and willed herself to stop shaking. “You’ve been very kind to me. Everyone has been and I love it here, I do. But . . . you once told me that I would have to give heart and soul to the ranch and I’m not sure I can do that. I want to, I do, but . . . I’m not sure that I can.” A strained silence stretched across the room and no one moved.

  She leaned forward, beseeching her. “Could I have more time to think about it? Another week. Another month?”

  “What makes you think you’ll feel different then?” Miss Walker asked.

  “I . . . I don’t know how I’ll feel. All I know is that it wouldn’t be fair to you to sign this contract until I know for certain I can fulfill your expectations.”

  For several moments no one spoke. Finally, Miss Walker pulled a checkbook out of her desk drawer, opened it, and began writing. “I appreciate your honesty, but it would be better for all concerned if you leave, effective immediately.” She tore out a check and handed it to her.

  “This is what I owe you. Consider our business complete.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open. She’d never expected Miss Walker to dismiss her so quickly or so coldly and completely.

  “But . . . but . . .”

  Miss Walker replaced her checkbook in the drawer and slammed it shut. “There’s nothing more to be said.”

  Stunned, Kate took the check and ran out of the office.

  For several moments after Kate fled the office, no one moved. Then Barker riffled through the document as if the reason for Kate’s sudden departure were hidden among its many pages.

  Robert was the first to speak. “You were rather rough on the girl, don’t you think?”

  “Rough?”

  “All she did was ask for more time,” Robert said.

  Eleanor wished it was as simple as that. She’d tried to ignore the warning signs. The way Kate and Adams eyed each other. How Luke never gave up looking for her when she was kidnapped. How they gazed at each other the day he brought her back to the ranch. The number of times he’d come looking for her since.

  Giving Kate more time wouldn’t change a thing. Eleanor was as certain of that as she was her own name. It would only make the inevitable parting more painful than it already was. She couldn’t stop the hurt. The best she could do was not to prolong it. Experience had taught her to cut her losses—much like one hacked off a painful limb—and get on with it. That’s what she intended to do.

  “If she has to think about it, then she’s not the right person for the job,” Eleanor said.

  Robert stroked his mustache. “It’s a big decision.”

  “And she’s had four months to make it.”

  Robert glanced at the lawyer before turning back to Eleanor. “May I make a suggestion?”

  Eleanor stood. “No, you may not.” Let Robert think what he would. What was done was done.

  She walked to the door, but before leaving the room she added, “And the Grand Canyon is definitely out of the question.”

  Kate reached town less than an hour later. She tied her horse to the hitching post in front of Luke’s blacksmith shop and took a deep breath to bra
ce herself. She hated letting Miss Walker down, but how could she do otherwise, feeling the way she did? Did she love Luke? Was that it? Was that the source of her confusion? The reason for throwing away the chance of a lifetime?

  She didn’t know. She had no experience with romantic love. Had never before allowed herself to get close enough to a man to lose her heart. Still, this couldn’t be love. Wasn’t love supposed to make you feel giddy and silly and act like a fool? This thing with Luke had sneaked up on tiptoe and buried itself so deep inside, she hadn’t even suspected it was there—until now.

  The sound of Luke’s laughter brought her out of her reverie. She turned the corner of his shop and stopped upon seeing him with Miss Chase, their heads so close as to nearly touch. Locker was curled up in the woman’s arms, tail wagging.

  Kate drew back so as not to be seen. She didn’t know what hurt more, having to disappoint Miss Walker or seeing Miss Chase with the dog Luke said was hers.

  “Oh, Lukey,” Miss Chase squealed in her high-pitched voice. “Are you sure it’s all right for me to take him home?”

  “Just as soon as he’s old enough to wean.”

  She squealed again. “I can’t wait.”

  Locker squirmed in her arms and licked her face and Miss Chase succumbed to giggles.

  Luke laughed. “It looks like he feels the same.”

  “Oh, Lukey, you are the kindest man I’ve ever known.”

  Kate couldn’t hear what Luke said next, but whatever it was put a smile on Miss Chase’s face.

  A sharp pain unlike anything Kate had ever known sliced through her. Obviously, Luke had already put her out of his mind. No surprises there. What did surprise her—shocked her—was how quickly he did it. It had only been a couple of hours and already he’d found another to take her place.

  Kate drew back, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Never had she felt so wretched in her life. She’d given up everything—given up the ranch—only to find out she’d been right about men all along. Right about Luke.

  She wasn’t certain of her own heart before coming here, but she knew it now—and knew that it was breaking.