Heather's Choice

by Shirleen Davies

“Oh, my God!” Heather’s words flew past him, Shamrock galloping toward the Evanston house.

  Brows furrowing, Caleb shot a look at Blaine, who shrugged. “I’ve no idea what’s gotten into the lass.”

  “I guess we’ll find out.” Caleb continued to the house, seeing Shamrock near the barn, a horse he didn’t recognize a few feet away, and the two ranch hands in a nearby corral. Heather was nowhere in sight.

  Then he heard it—male and female laughter from inside the barn. The calm façade dissolved as jealousy gripped him. Nostrils flaring, he dismounted, charging forward, stopping when Blaine grabbed his arm.

  “Lad, you need to calm yourself. If I can see you’re looking for blood, so can whoever is inside.” Blaine tightened his grip when Caleb tried to pull away. Both were evenly matched in size and weight. In a fight, either one could come out the victor. Fortunately, it didn’t get that far.

  Caleb sucked in a deep breath. “You go inside and see who she’s talking to. I’ll go speak with the men, let them know to saddle up.” Nodding toward the corral, he strode off, his boots pounding into the dirt.

  A few feet from the gate, he stopped, placing his hands on his hips. After a moment, he scrubbed a hand down his face, wondering what had just happened to him. He never lost his temper without cause. Glancing back at the barn, he shook his head at his antics, mumbling a thanks to Blaine, who stopped him from making an utter fool of himself.

  Lifting a hand at the men who’d stopped their work to watch him, he turned back toward the barn. As he got closer, he heard Blaine’s uninhibited laugh, then Heather’s. Stepping into the dark interior, he allowed his eyes to adjust.

  Between Heather and Blaine stood an older man, tall and wiry, his thick black hair tinged with silver. The deep lines on his rugged face indicated years in the sun. Caleb guessed his age could be anywhere between forty and sixty.

  “Caleb.” Blaine motioned him over.

  Stepping toward them, he stopped a couple feet from the stranger, holding out his hand. “Caleb Stewart.”

  The man grasped his hand in a strong grip, pumping it once. “Levi Abrams. I used to be the foreman here.”

  Caleb’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Abrams.”

  “Call me Levi.”

  Nodding, Caleb glanced at Heather, then back at Levi. “I heard you quit.”

  “I did.” He leaned against a stall, pulled a pipe from one pocket and a pouch of tobacco from another. “It didn’t take me long to realize I had nowhere to go.” Stuffing the pipe, he tamped it down with a light touch, then held it at his side.

  Heather slipped an arm through Levi’s, a broad smile flashing across her face. “So he came back.”

  Caleb’s lips twitched when he looked at her. “I can see he did.” Transferring his attention back to Levi, his face sobered. “Are you looking for work?”

  He nodded. “A man has to eat.”

  Heather’s face lit up. “I’m certain we’ve work for you at Circle M. Don’t you think so, Blaine?”

  Her cousin nodded. “We can always use another good lad.” Blaine glanced at Caleb.

  “They’re right, Levi. There’s more work than men to handle it. But some things have happened that might change your mind.”

  Levi’s gaze narrowed on Caleb. “I’ve got plenty of time. Let’s go outside and you can explain it all to me.”

  Levi walked to his saddlebags, opening one to pull out a large box. Opening it, he pulled out a stick with a red tip, then brought his pipe up to his mouth. Striking the match against his belt buckle, he lit the pipe, puffing a few times before blowing out the smoke.

  “Got these in San Francisco a couple weeks ago. Other than Annabelle, they may be the best purchase I ever made.” Levi chuckled, slipping the box back into the saddlebag.

  Lifting a brow, Caleb looked at Heather.

  She smiled. “His Springfield 1861 rifle. Calls it Annabelle.” Shrugging, Heather looked back at Levi.

  Taking another puff from his pipe, Levi looked at Caleb. “Now, tell me all about the changes and how I can help.”

  They congregated on the porch, Levi with his pipe, Heather sitting next to him, Blaine and Caleb leaning against the railing. After listening to them describe the changes, Levi nodded, blowing out another wave of smoke.

  “Yep. Lots of changes. Sorry to hear about the Estrada hacienda. Juan invited Mildred, her husband, and I over for supper one time. It was quite a place.” Levi settled back in the chair. “Always thought it was a good decision for you MacLarens to buy the place. Some of the finest grazing land north of Sacramento. Those springs and streams up north flow down into the dryer pastures, creating ponds. All that water is controlled by the people who own the land. Real smart move to buy it from Juan.”

  “We didn’t buy it all, Levi.”

  He nodded. “I remember that. Estrada still holds enough to live on and run a few cattle.”

  Blaine shifted his feet, crossing his arms. “Aye. It was a fair deal. We own it with August Fielder.”

  “I seem to recall that.”

  Heather turned sideways in her chair. “As you can tell, we’ve big plans and can use your help, Levi.”

  “The lass is right.” Blaine straightened, looking out at the two men fixing part of the corral. “You might as well come along today so we can make it official with Ewan and Ian.”

  Letting the tobacco burn out, Levi stood, stepping to the edge of the porch to tap his pipe against the railing. “So, you boys tired of gabbing or are you ready to get that herd and take them north?”

  “Just waiting on you, old timer,” Caleb joked, eliciting a gasp from Heather and a laugh from Blaine.

  “Old timer, is it?” Levi smiled. “We’ll see if you still can say that at the end of the day.”

  A Cabin Miles North of Conviction

  “Six men, Black. How the hell did you lose all six of them?” Giles kicked an already broken chair across the room, cursing as he paced back and forth. “The job was to take the cattle, move them off MacLaren land, change the brand, and sell them.”

  Black leaned against the doorframe, undaunted by Giles’ display of anger. “That’s the instructions I gave them. Seems the men changed the rules on their own.”

  Cursing again, he lowered himself onto a chair. “I heard about it this morning when the bodies were brought to town. I happened to be across the street when the wagon pulled up to the undertaker’s. Half the town walked over to look inside. Those men were riddled with bullets.”

  Shrugging, Black nodded. “I was supposed to meet them last night. When they didn’t show, I went looking for them. Found their bodies, no horses, and the herd was gone.”

  “I’m trying to drive them out of business, not create a bloodbath.” Giles shivered, remembering the first dead body he’d ever seen. He’d pushed his best friend into fighting an older boy who’d been bullying everyone. The friend didn’t want to fight, but Giles talked him into it. The bully had landed a devastating blow to his friend’s jaw, snapping his head and breaking his neck. They were only ten. From then on, Giles did whatever he could to avoid killing to get what he wanted. Sometimes, though, accidents happened.

  “The MacLarens have stretched themselves too thin. Purchasing the Estrada and Evanston places, loaning money to the Pearce family, and investing in the new hotel have created a large amount of debt. The slightest push could achieve my goal.”

  “Of buying their land.” There was no inflection in Black’s voice. He didn’t care a whit about their debt, the property, or who died. All Black cared about was getting paid and riding out before the law caught wind of him.

  “Correct. Not getting into gunfights with their men.” Raking a hand through his hair, Giles leaned back.

  “By the looks of the bodies, it seemed there were two groups who discovered our men. One group came down from the hills, the other from the opposite direction. I’m thinking those were the ones with the herd.” Pulling a cheroot from his pocket, he lit it, inhali
ng deeply. Blowing the smoke out, he looked at Giles. “Cattle ain’t going to work a second time. They’ve got too many men watching.”

  “I suppose you have other suggestions. After all, if this doesn’t work, you don’t get paid.”

  Black’s features hardened enough for Giles to know the man didn’t like being threatened. “The job will get done and you’ll have your land.”

  “Fine. Tell me how that happens.”

  “They’ve got several ponds in the northern part of the property. It’s where they keep the main herd and where the cattle drink.” Black lifted a brow and waited.

  After a few quiet moments, Giles’ eyes widened. “You want to poison the water?”

  Black nodded.

  Standing, Giles rubbed the spot between his eyes, trying to relieve the throbbing ache he had since seeing the bodies.

  Black walked over to the stove, grabbed a cup, and filled it with coffee. Turning back to Giles, he took a sip. “It’s easy enough to do.”

  “You’ve done this before?”

  “I’ve done a lot. That’s why you hired me.” He stepped toward Giles. “You don’t want to hear the details, then leave.”

  Shaking his head, Giles crossed his arms. “Go on.”

  “You don’t plan to run cattle on the land, right?”

  Giles nodded.

  “Then we poison one of the smaller ponds. It’ll take longer, but you’ll get your land without killing any men.”

  Shaking his head, Giles turned away. “Too much time. There must be another way.”

  Black finished the coffee, then smirked. “There is, but I don’t think you have the stomach for it.”

  Waving a hand, Giles’ face grew serious. “As long as you don’t intentionally murder, I don’t care. Poison the pond and do whatever else you have to.” He walked to the door, pulling it open. “Just don’t let anything fall back on us.”

  Stepping outside, Giles closed the door behind him. Mounting his horse, he turned toward town, his mind moving from one problem to another. He’d gotten a telegram the day before about his ailing mother. She’d taken a turn for the worse.

  Several years before, when she’d been robust and healthy, he’d moved his mother into his wife’s house. Not long afterward, she’d taken ill. Hiring the best doctors and a full-time nurse had done little to identify the illness or relieve her constant pain. He hated watching her deteriorate, knowing he could do nothing.

  His dear wife had been a godsend in more ways than one. He’d picked her carefully, culling through the rich San Francisco widows until he found one who suited his purposes. Rich, no children, no other relatives, and a pristine social standing. Courting and marrying her had taken little time. Giles planned to use her money and connections to increase his own wealth and social stature. Manipulating her had been far too easy. What he hadn’t expected was to fall in love with her.

  When his mother moved in, his wife took to her as if she were her own. Watching them together softened his heart, though not enough to change the dreams he’d sought for so long. Giles wanted his own wealth, not just what he’d married into. He’d grown tired of the snide remarks and innuendos about how he achieved his money. So he’d done his research.

  Conviction’s location on the Feather River, the rich soil and expansive pastures made it one of the best places west of Denver to raise cattle. Driving them to market was easy with the rapid expansion of San Francisco and Sacramento. And the people just kept coming. He saw no end to the opportunities. But you had to own the land.

  Giles had waited, watched as the MacLarens sunk more and more money into the ranch, creating debt they could handle, assuming everything fell in their favor. The weather, the market, water—all the pieces had to fit. It would take just one major problem to topple their plan and make them vulnerable.

  He’d seen it happen many times. Banks were wonderful when you were doing well. When you weren’t, their friendship and money dried up. It was time the MacLarens experienced the harsher side of staying prosperous, and he was the perfect man to provide the lesson.

  Black watched from the window, then glanced over his shoulder. “It’s safe for you to come out now.”

  The woman pushed open the door, emerging from a small storage space at the rear of the cabin. “What an insufferable man. I don’t know why you put up with him.”

  Chuckling, he walked up to her, stroking a hand over her hair. “Money. The man pays well, and that’s all I care about.”

  The woman nodded, placing a hand on his arm. He looked down at it and frowned, but didn’t make a move to shove it away. She was the only person who could make him smile, who he allowed to touch him. No one else dared. She’d never seen him as the dangerous predator he’d become. For that, he was grateful.

  “So now you’ll be poisoning the cattle?” She shook her head.

  “Again, for the money.”

  “I know how much you’ve made, Black. You could put all this behind you and live comfortably the rest of your life.” She sat down in an old, splintered chair, her dress catching on one of the rough edges. “You could start over.”

  “I suppose you’d follow.”

  “Only if you’d want me to.” She tilted her head and smiled.

  He walked to her, tugging on a strand of hair. “We’ll talk after I’m finished with Delacroix.”

  Crossing her arms, her bottom lip jutted out. “That’s what you said the last time.”

  Dropping her hair, he folded his arms across his chest, staring down at her. “You help me finish this job with Delacroix, and I’ll make you a promise.” She looked up at him, her round eyes wide with hope. “We’ll get out of this hovel and start fresh.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bay pinched the bridge of his nose, reading the telegram in front of him. He’d been catching up on paperwork since six that morning. The pile on his desk might have lessened if his assistant, Jasper, hadn’t kept adding to the stack.

  Accepting the position to partner with August in his law firm had been too good to ignore. Closing the door on his past, focusing on the reason he’d attended law school, had been an easy decision to make.

  Instead of the matching revolvers he preferred when working for ranchers, he now strapped a single Colt around his waist. The two rifles usually secured in his saddle scabbards were replaced with one, and his shotgun leaned against the wall in his office. He had no desire to return to a life of protecting the range, no matter the money offered.

  The telegram in front of him was a temptation, nothing more. At least once a week, he received an offer such as the one on his desk. An outlandish sum had been offered by a cattleman in Texas if Bay would rid him of the rustlers and land grabbers who dogged him. Bay didn’t hesitate to wad the telegram into a ball and toss it into the trash.

  “I see you’re right back at it.” August walked into Bay’s office, taking a seat. “I heard about the ranch hand.”

  “They found him hanging from a tree miles from the Estrada hacienda and the stolen herd.”

  “Were you part of the group who shot those six men?” August’s tone held no recrimination. His years as a lawyer had schooled him to get all the facts before judging.

  “I assume you saw the bodies.”

  “Hard to miss, laid out in front of the undertaker’s. I’m glad Brodie was there to answer questions or the townsfolk might have jumped to conclusions. Dare I ask how many you killed?” August steepled his fingers under his chin, his gaze narrowing on Bay.

  “Two, and I was glad to do it. They hid in the rocks with a direct aim at us. If it hadn’t been for the MacLaren women, we might be the ones being prepared for burial.” Standing, Bay walked to the window, glancing at the new hotel down the street. “A burned structure, one dead ranch hand, stolen cattle, and six dead rustlers. I’ve been trying to make sense of it all and have come up with nothing. If the ranch hand had been found at the Estrada place or with the cattle, it would make more sense. Instead, he was miles away.
And why did the rustlers leave the cattle unattended? We rode over a hill and there was the herd, no one guarding them. Why try to kill us, and why abandon the herd?”

  Leaning forward, August rested his arms on the desk. “You’re the one with range war experience. I’d think you’d have some ideas.”

  Rocking on his heels, Bay massaged the back of his neck, then turned from the window. “Could be unrelated. Maybe the ranch hand came upon some men who killed him for the fun of it. The fire could’ve been a distraction while the rustlers took the cattle.”

  “Two separate events?” August asked.

  “It’s possible.” Bay sat back down, staring at a spot on the wall behind August. “Taking the cattle north makes sense. They could split the herd up, rebrand, and move them to a buyer. They were almost off MacLaren land when they chose to abandon them and wait for us.” His gaze traveled to August. “They knew we’d be coming.”

  “Any rancher would go after his missing cattle.”

  “Of course. But the rustlers wouldn’t leave them unguarded.” Bay rubbed his chin. “I think they used the cattle as bait to draw us in. I don’t believe they had any intention of moving them off MacLaren land.”

  August’s brows furrowed. “To what end?”

  Bay opened a drawer, pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it across the desk. “Look at this and tell me what you see.”

  Pulling spectacles from his pocket, August picked up the paper, leaning back in his chair. After a few moments, his brows lifted. “Where did you get this information?”

  Bay hesitated, weighing how best to describe how he’d come into possession of the data. “I got an offer. It included what you’re looking at.”

  “Explain.” August laid the document on Bay’s desk.

  “I wish I had an explanation for you, sir. The document was shoved under my office door while I was out with the MacLarens. Nothing else, just what you see. Jasper has no idea how someone got inside our offices, but it happened.”

  “I gather you think this has something to do with what is happening at Circle M.”