Deborah Camp (12 page)

“Ow, damn it!” Drew grabbed his shin and hopped around on one foot. “I ought to shake you till your eyes cross!”

“Just you try it, Junior, and I’ll give you what I gave your old man.” She balled up a fist and shook it in his face. “I’ll shell your teeth with this.”

Drew stared at the puny fist stuck in his face and couldn’t help but grin. She sputtered, so angry she couldn’t form any words, and he grabbed her fist and brought it sharply down to her side.

“You hit my old pa, did you?”

“Knocked out his front tooth,” she bragged.

Damn, if she wasn’t pretty when she was hot with temper! He still had hold of her fist, and he slid his thumb across the scampering pulse in her wrist. Instantly
something changed in her face. Something changed in him, too. He let go of her and beat down the desire rising in him like a gusher.

“Ice brought these horses and is going to work here with us. Yes, we’re partners,” he said before she could ask it again, “and that’s that. It’s got nothing to do with my agreement with you.”

“I told you I don’t want you strutting around and telling folks that this ranch is yours. What did he just say?” she challenged. “He called this ‘Drew’s ranch.’” She rounded on Ice. “This spread belongs to me, and
I
say who is hired and who is shown the door. You’ve shaken hands with the Devil, mister, but it won’t get you work on this ranch!”

“Damn it all, that’s enough!” Drew clamped down on his temper as he seized her elbow and thrust her ahead of him. “Excuse us, Ice. Unsaddle your horse and stow your gear in the bunkhouse while I speak to Cassie. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing. Don’t mind me.” Ice tipped his hat at Cassie before Drew could hustle her around the corner of the barn and out of his sight.

Cassie snatched her elbow from Drew’s grasp and sent him a smoldering glare. “Don’t you start bawling me out about—”

“No,
you
listen to
me,”
he said between clenched teeth. “We need another hand on this ranch and you know it. Ice is a good man, and he’s working for practically nothing because he’s a friend of mine and he’s interested in learning all he can about horse breeding.” He gripped her upper arms and gave her a shake. “I’ve let you talk to me like I’m a mangy dog, but I won’t let you talk to Ice that way. You got that?” When she didn’t
speak, he gave her another shake. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she hissed, and he let go of her. She backed away from him and rubbed her arms. “You’re just like your father. A brute.”

“That’s right, missy, I
am
my father’s son. Ask anybody in this county and they’ll tell you that I’m good for nothing, that I’m a cattle thief, that I’m not worth killing. But remember, your own baby was sired by the same old bull, so you might want to hold your tongue about the bad blood flowing in the Dalton veins.” He started to turn away but stopped to look back at her. “And I’m going to tell Ice about the situation we have here with the ownership of this ranch. When you rode up, I hadn’t had time to say much more than a howdy-do to him.” He strode around the corner of the barn to rejoin his friend.

Cassie blew out a breath of frustration and massaged the ache out of her upper arms. That man could fire her temper as surely as he could fire her womanly desires, and that was right unsettling. What was even more unsettling was that he’d been right in everything he’d said to her. She’d jumped the gun, and she shouldn’t have torn into him in front of his saddle pal. She’d handled the whole thing wrong.

It wasn’t like her. Usually she had a good head on her shoulders and was careful not to trample feelings. Head down, she made her way to the house. Moving dispiritedly into her bedroom, she felt like a child who had been roundly scolded.

D
rew would probably spend the night in the bunk-house with his buddy and the other men, Cassie thought as she settled in one of the rockers after supper. He’d eaten with them, preferring their company to hers and Oleta’s. The evening meal had been inordinately quiet without him, and now the time stretched out like an endless road before her, much to Cassie’s consternation.

Andy was fed, diapered, and asleep. Oleta had retired to her room to read and write letters to her aunts and uncles in Texas and Mexico. Cassie thought of going to bed, but she wasn’t tired. She’d entered a few items in her journal, noting the signs of a herd crossing the land and the arrival of Ice.

Now she rocked and stared at the empty fireplace grate, her thoughts returning to the quarrel she’d had with Drew. Did he think he was punishing her by not gracing her with his company? She made a derisive sound. She hoped he never ate with her again or slept in the loft! That would suit her mighty fine indeed. She liked having the house to herself, just her and Oleta and Andy. That’s how it should be. Wasn’t right for him to be staying—

The front door opened, letting in the far-off cry of a wolf… and Drew Dalton. He bobbed his head in a greeting and carried a tub full of soiled dishes to the sink.

“Supper was good. That beefsteak was so tender I could have cut it with my spoon.”

She nodded but held her tongue. He clattered dishes, and Oleta opened her bedroom door and started out, but Drew waved her off.

“These are soaking in water and will hold until morning.”

Oleta smiled and began closing the door.
“Gracias, Señor
Drew.”

“Sleep well, Oleta.” He turned toward Cassie. “Something got you sleepless?”

She shifted in the chair, feeling antsy and irritable. She’d cut out her tongue before admitting that he was on her mind, so she tackled a less dangerous subject. “I was thinking about the herd that crossed our land. Whoever drove them sure was as bold as brass. You think other herds have been taken across there, what with that fence pole loose and all?”

He sat on the sofa across from her, his long legs bent at the knee but his boots still crowding hers in the space between the sofa and rocker. “Hard to say. Once is enough. We’ll have to keep our eyes peeled.”

“I forgot to ask—did Monroe have anything to say about it?”

“Nope.” He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments. “I met his new man. Used to work for a big spread in Texas. Calls himself a Regulator, which is a fancy name for a fella who is trigger-happy. Roe says he’s planning
to increase his herd and improve his stock. Before I went to prison, Monroe Hendrix was more interested in playing cards and chasing women than he was in breeding cattle. He sure has changed his tune.”

“Maybe he finally got shed of his boyhood,” Cassie remarked. “We all have to grow up sometime. He’s … about forty, I guess.”

“Yeah, he turned forty last month.”

“And how old are you?” she asked, surprised that she wanted to know the answer so badly.

“Twenty-eight. Are you even twenty yet?”

“I will be—in two months.”

“That’s what I thought.”

She didn’t care for his droll tone and decided to shift the conversation back to Monroe. “Could be Roe is short on funds, just like us, and he realized he wasn’t going to make any money at poker and courting.”

Drew narrowed his eyes to blue slats. “Not unless he courts someone who has an adjoining ranch.’

Cassie didn’t bother to comment on that. She stared at the fireplace grate and gritted her teeth, refusing to be drawn into another verbal brawl with him.

After a few minutes, he chuckled and stretched out on the sofa, his boots hanging off one end. “So why did your pa let you marry an old man like mine?”

“My pa was dead long before I answered A.J.’s ad for a wife.”

“You must have been plenty desperate.”

“I was tired of having nothing of my own.” She crossed one leg over the other beneath her long skirt and swung her foot. Her past visited her, coated her in melancholy. “My ma died when my family was making its way to the California coast. My pa was a wanderer, a
dreamer, always looking to get rich without having to do much in the way of labor. He believed every wild story he heard about gold mines and buried treasure and winning land in poker games. But he was the unluckiest man who ever drew a breath.” She closed her eyes, seeing her father’s thin face. His features were hazy, diminished by the years. “He was handsome and selfish. Poor Mama couldn’t keep up with him, so she fell behind. She was real sick, but Papa kept on going, chasing his dreams. I don’t even remember where Papa buried Mama. Somewhere between Montana and California. I remember I bawled for days and days. All us kids did. But Papa kept on going. He had gold fever.”

“I guess he didn’t strike gold.”

“No.” She laughed with scorn. “He struck bottom, that’s what. The older kids left and I finally did, too, because Papa was never around and I was on my own anyway. I kept house for an old woman for a few months and then I…” She shrugged, unable to tell him what she’d done after that to make a living. “I got by.”

“Then you happened on this wrongheaded idea to marry a stranger. Didn’t you know any better? Wasn’t there anybody around with enough sense to talk you out of it?”

She delivered an arch look. “I’ll have you know that I know a couple who got together through an ad, and they’re as happy as fish in a mountain stream. They’re friends of mine, and that’s what gave me the idea.
She
ordered
him
.”

He frowned. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Shifting onto his side, Drew felt his initial disgust dissolve when he saw the stars in Cassie’s eyes and the beatific expression on her face. Transfixed, he bit back
any other caustic comments in favor of her flushed cheeks and dreamy eyes.

“The man is very handsome and a complete gentleman,” she said. “His name is Reno. Isn’t that a pretty name?”

Drew nodded, although “pretty” wasn’t a word he used often—except for now, when he looked at Cassie.

“The woman knew him before, when they were kids. Her name is Adele.”

“So they weren’t strangers.”

“No, but they hadn’t seen each other in years. At first they didn’t get along, but before many weeks passed, I could tell they were falling for each other. Shoot, I figure they loved each other back when they were children. They just didn’t know it.”

“So did she send him a letter and propose to him?”

“No. She placed an ad, and he saw it and answered.”

“Why? If he was so special, why did he have to answer an ad to get some woman to marry him?”

“I don’t know all the particulars.” She frowned and cast him a sour look. “All I know is that they’re happy and they have a baby girl now. They called her Katy, named after a railroad line. Trains played a big part in bringing Reno and Adele back together.” She released a long sigh and slid her clasped hands over her bent knee. Her eyes glowed with romance.

She was a puzzle, he decided, admiring the sheen of her skin and hair, the tilt of her chin, the delicious shape of her mouth. Full of quirks and surprises, she was a woman hard to figure. She never left the house without wearing some kind of hat and gloves, but he guessed that was okay since her skin was flawless and she had the smoothest hands he’d ever felt.

“That doll you’ve got on your bed. Is that for your baby?” he asked, suddenly remembering the rag doll he’d seen the night she’d been afflicted with poison ivy.

She shook her head. “She’s mine. Her name is Miss Tess, after the lady who gave her to me when I was a little girl. She wore the prettiest hats and gloves you ever did see.” A peaceful expression settled on her face. “Miss Tess … I wanted to be exactly like her when I grew up.”

So that’s why she wore those gloves and hats! To be like Miss Tess.
That’s Cassie
, he thought, strutting about like a great lady sometimes and then working like a man on the ranch. Something she’d said earlier that day continued to nag at him, and although he didn’t want to erase that dreamy expression on her face, he had to voice it.

“My old man didn’t… force himself on you, did he? That’s not why you knocked his tooth out.”

As he’d feared, the pleasure bled from her face along with the pink color. Frowning and ashen now, she shook her head.

“He never forced me, but he slapped me. Finally I got enough of it and I hit him back. Made him think twice before hauling off and slugging me again. Didn’t stop him, but it slowed him up a bit.”

Drew jerked his gaze away from her, a mantle of undeserved guilt weighing him down. Damn the old man for putting her through even more hell! Seemed like she’d had very few men she could count on for more than fat lips and broken dreams. The little gal had been through tough times, and it was a wonder she wasn’t as mean as a desert rattler.

“Seeing as how we’re trading stories about our
lives,” she said, looking sideways at him, “I was wondering …”

He tensed. “About what?”

“Prison.”

Propping his head in one hand, he smiled faintly. “I can’t recommend it.”

“Did you meet anybody famous there?”

“Famous for what?”

“You know, gunslingers or bank robbers.”

“I kept to myself. Didn’t make any friends there.” He rolled onto his back and laced his fingers on his chest. Talk of prison cast bars of shadow across his heart and shackled his soul.

“Did they feed you? I’ve heard that they only give you bread and water.”

“They fed us, but it was pig slop. Watery soup, dry bread, stringy meat. We had rice and beans nearly every damn day. Nothing was seasoned. We never had any sweets. I used to dream of pies and cobblers until I’d wake up with my stomach tied in knots.”

“You’ve got a sweet tooth, huh?”

“I used to, but prison life got rid of it. You learn to stop dreaming of things you can’t have. Once the hope is gone, the dreams stop and you’re empty inside, but that’s better than thinking of getting out and heading for home or wishing for a woman.” He cleared his throat, realizing he’d trod on a touchy subject and said more than he’d intended. “Prison life isn’t really a life at all. It’s just one damned day after another.”

“I guess you were bitter, being locked up and innocent.”