Ellie's Legacy (8 page)

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Authors: Ginger Simpson

BOOK: Ellie's Legacy
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He made a clucking noise with his tongue. “Well don’t hold
anything back. Tell me what you really think of me.”

Her smile blossomed into laughter; she turned to look at
him. “I’m sorry if that sounded mean, but you are all those things. You always
want to know where I’m going and when I’m coming home—you act like my father.
I’m not a little child. I can take care of myself.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I reckon you can, at least most of the
time, but I worry about you, too. No matter how tough you think you are, you
aren’t a match for a man. You just don’t have the same strength.”

The stubborn streak in her mind screamed, No, but I have a
gun and that evens things out a bit. Instead, she shrugged, remembering how
helpless she felt with Jeb’s hands on her. “Maybe, but it depends on the
situation. I have to be a little more careful, that’s all.”

Thinking about the encounter made angry blood pulse in her
temples, and her eyes locked with Ty’s. “Just because the Bryants have everyone
else running scared, I’m not going to let them cripple me with fear. I’m going
to that dance no matter what.”

She stood and brushed the loose straw from her pants,
wondering when she had changed her mind. Until that very moment she had no
intention of going to that silly social function. Now she had something else to
kick herself about.

She still didn’t have an escort. Maybe she’d have to ask
Percy to take her, heaven forbid. She flinched at the thought.

Her mouth gaped into a large surprising yawn, and she raised
a hand to cover it, realizing she was exhausted from the gamut of emotions. She
stretched, reaching high in the air. “Hmmm, I guess I’m more tired than I
thought, so I’ll say good night.”

“No hard feelings?” He peered up at her.

Lantern light danced in his eyes, bringing back those darned
butterflies. Her hand flew to her stomach.
“No…no hard
feelings.”
She started out of the barn, waiting until she was out of
hearing range to mutter, “Just good ones.”

“It’s too bad.” he called after her.

She peeked through the doorway. “What’s too bad?”

“That you’re already going to the dance with someone else. I
sure would like to be the one to take you.”

Words bubbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to
stop them. “Well, then I guess you will be, because I lied about Percy.”

The bold admission shocked even her, but before Ty had a
chance to say a word, her happiness erupted into a bombarding explanation. “I
only said I was going in the first place to make Pa happy. I planned on getting
out of it somehow, but you should have seen the smile on his face when I told
him about my plans to make a new dress. You would have thought
I
…”

Her mind’s eye locked on the bullet-riddled material bought
from the mercantile. A serious search of her armoire was in order. Leaving Ty
hanging on her last word, she rushed toward the house to find something in her
wardrobe that would pass for new. Her heart raced with excitement.

Ty arched his back to ease a pestering kink and ran both
hands through his hair. Still in disbelief, he leaned forward, staring at the
loose hay covering the barn floor. How had he gone from being a villain to
becoming a willing dance partner in such short order? He rubbed the back of his
neck and opened his mouth in a yawn that rivaled Ellie’s.

The palm of his hand made a scratching sound as it slid
across his whiskered cheek, reminding him to shave in the morning. It wouldn’t
do well for Roselle Fountain’s escort to look unkempt. He chuckled at the
thought of having her on his arm instead of at this throat.

Drawn by the appeal of his bunk, he stood and crossed the
barn to the lantern and plucked it from the wall. He sighed, thinking about
what a confusing girl…no, what a confusing woman he’d involved himself with.

There was nothing childish about Ellie’s curves, and lusty
thoughts raced through his mind. The sweet smell of her toilette water still
mingled with the fresh scent of hay. Even the not-so-appealing odor of manure
didn’t interfere with his mental image of holding her close and burying his
face in that mane of fiery hair. God, what she did to him. The lamp flickered, begging
for more wick, and interrupting Ty’s fantasy.

He turned the lantern knob, sparking the flame back to life,
and replayed his conversation with Ellie in his mind. Scratching his head, he
wondered what she meant about him always being in her father’s favor. He’d have
to ask her. He stifled another yawn and headed toward the bunkhouse, pausing
halfway across the compound to do a few practice waltz steps. He nodded in
approval. “Yep, I still know how.”

 

* * * * *

 

Ellie awoke to bright sunlight streaming through her window.
Using curled
fists,
she rubbed the sleep from her eyes
and sat up.

Clothing she’d pulled from her armoire littered the foot of
her bed. Her attempt to find something suitable for the Fall Festival had
proved futile. So much time had passed since she’d worn any of her dresses;
half of them didn’t fit her well-developed bosom and the other half were six
inches too short.

Disgusted and tired, she’d given up and gone to bed. All
she’d succeeded in doing was making a mess.

She swiveled around and dropped her feet to the floor. Cold
from the wooden planks penetrated her toes and crept up her bare legs. A path
of goose bumps peppered her skin.

Ellie yanked the hem of her nightgown down and stood. One
look at the clothing heap made it clear she had a problem. With her feeble
sewing skills and little time left before the dance, she needed to pay another
visit to the mercantile and buy a store-made frock. A shiver ran through her,
but not from the cold; from the recollection of her last trip.

She gathered everything off the bed. “Like I told Ty, I’m
not about to let the Bryants keep me holed up here on Fountainhead.” Talking
aloud helped bolster her courage. “Besides, I’ll take my gun and be more
careful this time. It’s only a ride to the mercantile and back for heaven’s
sake.” She had to admit, she sounded convincing.

Ellie dumped the stack back in her armoire. Sorting through
them was a chore for another day. Right now she had more important things to
tend to.

Hugging herself, she did a little dance around the room,
smiling at the recollection of Ty’s invitation. In her mind, it was his arms
that held her, warmed her. Forgetting the morning chill, she two-stepped over
to the washbowl and filled it with water from its matching pitcher.

She paused for a moment, admiring the intricate roses
decorating them, and her elation was suddenly replaced with a longing for
someone she barely remembered. The two porcelain pieces were cherished mementos
from her mother.

A glance at the small framed photo on the bureau made her
wonder again what things would be like had Ma lived. Maybe she’d provide answers
for the million questions Ellie had about the strange feelings she’d been
experiencing, and about men…yes, those cocky, good-looking, blue eyed ones in
particular.

Ellie peered into the mirror hanging above her toilette
area, and before washing her face, pulled her long hair back and secured it
with a ribbon. The almond-shaped eyes reflecting back at her looked much the
same as those in the picture.

Tilting her head, she studied the structure of her jaw, her
perfect eyebrows, and the slight dimple in her chin. She smiled at her
reflection, happy she had her mother’s best features, and wishing Ma remained
alive to see them. “If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.” She
sighed. Where had she heard that before?

Pushing aside depressing thoughts, Ellie plunged her hands
into the tepid water, cupped her palms to hold the liquid, and then bent to
bury her face in its refreshment. Blindly, she reached for the soap dish,
picked up the small slice that was left, and lathered her face. She rinsed then
dipped a cloth into the sudsy water and performed a quick toilette on the rest
of her body. The cobwebs of sleep vanished, and she felt revived and ready for
the day.

After dressing, Ellie sat on the bed, pulled on her
well-worn boots, and let her thoughts drift back to Ty. She flashed back to
last’s night conversation, the part where he had actually admitted wanting to
accompany her. That same familiar warmth spread throughout her body again. How
had things changed so fast?

A few days ago she thought she hated him for his cocky
attitude and the way her father always kept him under a protective wing. Now
she couldn’t wait for the dance. Dance? Ellie jumped up.

Stripping the ribbon from her hair, she shook her long
tresses free and quickly ran a brush through the sleep squiggles, effectively
removing them. In a repeat of her earlier fashion, she re-tied her hair with
same the piece of satin. She glanced down at the sudsy liquid still in her
washbowl, vowing to empty it and refill the pitcher when she returned, but
right now what she needed was a new dress and more bullets.


 
 
 
 

Chapter Seven

 

Ellie shielded her eyes against the morning sun as she
walked out the kitchen door.

The compound was in an uproar. Hired hands scrambled from
the bunkhouse to the barn, strapping on their holsters as they ran. Ty and Pa
stood next to the corral. Judging from their faces and Pa’s wild gestures, they
discussed something serious.

She snuggled down in her jacket to ward off the October
chill and dashed across the yard to where the two men stood. “What happened?”

“Somebody came on our land during the night and slaughtered
the whole herd of cattle we had grazing on the south range.” Ben’s jaw grew
tense as he spoke.

Ellie’s mouth gaped. “Slaughtered?
How?”

Ty slowly shook his head.
“Shot.
Every single one of them.
Just senseless
killing.”

Anger fired along Ellie’s veins. How could such a thing
happen on their ranch? “Who was supposed to be keeping watch, and where was
he?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out, and believe
me,
someone is going to answer for this.” Pa kicked a pebble
and sent it flying across the yard.

“Why would someone do something so cruel? How many did we
lose?”

“Two dozen, at least.
We’ll know
for sure when the men come back from checking the other pastures.” Ty slapped
his thigh. “Damn! We know who did it, but how can we prove it?”

Losing one cow was sad, but twenty-four? Ellie’s stomach
knotted. She didn’t have to ask who was responsible; she knew. The Bryant’s
were the source of every problem since they came to the area, bullying people
into selling their land, making threats, and generally riding roughshod over
anybody who had the misfortune to cross their path.

This brutal act was too much of a coincidence right after Pa
turned down their last offer for Fountainhead.

“Well, we can’t just sit back and let them get away with
it,” she said. “We have to do something.”

“We are,” Ty assured her. “The men are gathering the rest of
the cattle together in one location. We’ll rotate guard duty and keep two men
with the herd at all times. It was almost time to gather them together anyhow.
It won’t be long before it snows.”

A gust of wind almost whipped Ellie’s hat off her head and
set her teeth to chattering. She yanked the brim down, turned her back to the
breeze and huddled down in her jacket. “It’s so cold. I think it could start,
now.”

“I guess it wasn’t too chilly for whoever did this. We made
a mistake in assuming the culprits wouldn’t pull anything this underhanded so
soon after hitting the other neighbors. We were wrong, but it won’t happen
again.” Ty’s lips twitched, his eyes turned steely.

Ben Fountain removed his stained Stetson and ran a hand
through his silver hair. His brow held deep furrows. “Ty, it probably won’t do
any good, but I want you to ride into Sparta and report this to the Sheriff.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ty nodded. “It never hurts to let word
get out that we have a pretty good notion who killed the livestock, besides
it’ll give me a good excuse to take the black out on the trail. I think he’s
ready.”

Ty was going to town? Ellie’s heart raced. If she went in
his company, she’d feel a lot safer. Following her run in with Jeb, and in
light of what had happened last night, she wasn’t eager to press her luck. The
Bryants were getting bolder in their attempts to get Fountainhead.

“Oh, that reminds me.” She acted like the idea just popped
into her head. “I have to go into town, too. Ty, do you mind if I ride along?
While you see the Sheriff, I can pick up a few things I need from the
mercantile.”

His grin was the only answer she needed.

Ty and Ellie rode in silence except for the snorting of Ty’s
mount as he nervously tossed his head and occasionally sidestepped away from
Ellie’s horse. His uneasiness was contagious. The mare cast wide eyes at the
other steed and did a little crow-hopping of her own. Ellie leaned forward and
patted the Chessie’s neck. “It’s all right girl.”

Ty held the black in check for the first couple of miles,
until the stallion settled down, and both horses obediently trudged along the
rutted road leading to town.

The chilly morning turned into a mild day with intermittent
sun filtering through the trees along the trail. Even with half their leaves
gone, the foliage was still thick and colorful, but Ellie had a hard time
getting last night’s kill out of her mind, and asked, “We know who did it, but
what do they expect to accomplish?”

Ty relaxed the reins, waiting to see the stallion’s
reaction. When it was clear the horse had grown used to bearing a rider, Ty
pushed his hat back further on his head and relaxed against his cantle.

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