Dawn Comes Early (41 page)

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 Rangers 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 brace 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.