Grace be a Lady (Love & War in Johnson County Book 1) (5 page)

Thad
ambled out onto the porch with a cup of coffee, and leaned on a post. Evening
was coming on fast, throwing the Walker ranch into the shadow of Bear Tooth
Mountain. He closed his eyes and listened to the lowing of cows out in a
distant pasture, the whinnying of horses in the barn. Behind him, dishes
clattered as Chang cleaned up the dining room.

Good
sounds, the sounds of home, but he still missed the light, delightful sound of
his mother’s laughter.

He
heard boots behind him, and knew his father was standing at the screen door.
“Never get tired of looking at that mountain and our valley.”

Thad
nodded in agreement and twisted to greet his pa coming out the door, puffs of
smoke trailing behind as he enjoyed his evening pipe. Tall, broad-shouldered,
barrel-chested, Earl Walker was a legend, not only to his sons but to the whole
cattle industry. He’d built the Lazy H ranch, now the biggest spread in
Wyoming, with blood, sacrifice, and tears. He’d taught Thad, Nick, and Adam to
always stand up for each other, never disgrace the Walker name, and always
treasure the land for which he’d paid such a high price. Thad believed the
lessons had stuck.

In
the distance, a steer trumpeted his displeasure over something, and Pa paused,
the sound apparently triggering a thought. “These small outfits have
overstepped. The rustling is out of hand. I believe the SGA is gonna have to
put a stop to it.”

Thad
shoved his hands in his pockets, knowing his father’s determined statement didn’t
need a response. Johnson County was losing its hold on civility. Small
ranchers, clashing with big ranchers for grazing land, were getting blamed for
everything, from missing cattle to bad weather. For years, Pa had been one of
the few voices in the Wyoming Stock Growers Association cautioning against
violence. Lately, though, his tone had changed, as more and more cattle barons
complained of missing cattle and run-ins with arrogant homesteaders.

Plenty
of folks thought the small, independent outfits were little more than two-bit
rustling operations. Thad hadn’t made up his mind, but for Pa to start thinking
that way, Thad could only assume the elder Walker knew something he didn’t. He
was willing to trust his father, even if the reverse wasn’t true right now.

“I’m
in agreement with your brother,” Pa said, settling into his rocking chair.
“Sheriff Phillips is a waste of good oxygen. Misery ever turns into anything or
ever has any real trouble, he’ll be over his head in two seconds.”

“Maybe
he’ll learn a thing or two from the cattle inspector.”

Earl
harrumphed in disgust. “You can’t
learn
a spine. You’re either born with
one or not.”

“I
reckon.” Thad didn’t like Sheriff Phillips, but he didn’t spend much time
thinking about the man, either. Thad mostly thought about work and tomorrow he
had a long list of chores.

“When
are you going over to Raney’s next?” his father asked.

“As
a matter of fact, I’m taking a few of the men over tomorrow. Thought we’d
finish getting her bunkhouse in order before the first snow. Don’t reckon she
really needs it, but there’s no sense in letting the place fall down around her
ears, either.”

“Stubborn
woman,” his father muttered, the pipe clenched between his teeth. “She’s crazy
to hold on to that place if she’s not going to use it. What a waste.”

Thad
turned away to hide a grin. He grabbed the porch rail and wished he had a buck
for every time Earl Walker fumed over Raney Lawson. There had to be more to the
story, but questions were only answered with vague responses and dismissals. He’d
quit asking years ago. “You never know, Pa; she might decide to re-stock, get
some hands that’ll work for a woman and bring the Diamond R back into
production. Dub said she’s got at least one hand again. Hired him today.”

Pa
sat up with interest. “You say she hired somebody?”

“Dub
saw ’em leavin’ town. Said he’s some little, boney fella; just a kid. Dub said
it was all the boy could do to load a fifty-pound bag of oats.”

Earl
eased back into his rocker. “Well, she needs some help out there. I doubt a kid’s
going to be good enough to help keep things up and repaired, though. She needs
to sell me all of it, and move into town.”

Raney
had, little by little, sold Pa chunks of the Diamond R. Eventually, all of it
would be absorbed by the Lazy H. Earl Walker always got what he wanted.

Since
’87, he’d been on a tear, working hard to expand the Lazy H, adding sizable
spreads here and there. These last few years, fortune had come Pa’s way,
through the misfortune of others. Deaths and disasters had allowed him to add
three more ranches to their holdings.

At
least he’d been able to help out his neighbors, by quickly taking their spreads
off their hands for fair money during some dire situations. Some of the
other
cattle barons had, to Thad’s way of thinking, flat-out strong-armed a few
of the smaller ranchers out of the county. Pa was patient. He didn’t need to
resort to violence.

Thad
half-sat on the porch rail and pushed away the dark thoughts, determined to
enjoy the peace. But the quiet was a rarity. One of the Walker boys was missing.
“I wonder what’s keeping big brother.”

“Probably
Angie Cole.”

Both
men chuckled at that, but then Thad recalled green eyes and a blue lace dress,
and wished he was similarly detained. His pleasant musing was interrupted by
distant hoof beats coming down the road. The horse slowed and entered the main
gate. She wasn’t galloping, but moving at a healthy canter. A few seconds more
and Venus trotted
in
to the front yard, Nick slouching in the saddle. Almost
immediately Thad knew something was wrong. His brother’s expression was grave
and the scent of smoke filled the air.

“Something
happen, Nick?” Pa asked, joining Thad at the rail. “You smell like a forest
fire.”

Nick
shook his head as he guided his horse
up to the house. He was covered in soot,
and dark smudges streaked across his face. “It’s bad, Pa.”

Thad
rose from the rail. Nick was the optimist in the family; he sugar-coated
everything. Such a statement could only mean someone was dead.

“I
was on my way back and saw the smoke. Bill Lewis’s house burned to the ground.”
Nick removed his hat and pressed it reverently to his chest. “Maggie’s dead.”

Thad
gasped. Pa clutched the rail, squeezing till his knuckles went white.

“We
couldn’t get her. Bill nearly killed himself trying to save her, but . . .”
Nick trailed off and shook his head.

Pa
sighed deeply and retook his seat in the rocker. He set the pipe on the small
table next to him and laced his fingers together. Thad wondered if he was
remembering the Indian raids, wildfires, rustlers, and grizzlies that had
wounded and killed his loved ones. Such was life in the shadow of the Big Horn
Mountains.

“Maggie.
Bill won’t be able to stand it, I think,” Pa predicted solemnly as he gazed out
over their valley. “He’ll go crazy without her.” He ran a shaky hand over his
face and rubbed his left temple.

After
a moment, he rose to his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Some people
can’t stand the price of life in Wyoming.” He hunched his shoulders against the
chill—and maybe the memories. “The Lazy H has been built on the blood of my kin
and my broken heart, and still we pay to live here, boys. The dues never stop
coming . . . but if we keep this ranch going, then no price has
been too high.”

As
their father quietly slipped into the house, Nick and Thad exchanged puzzled
glances.

Nick
tossed the reins from one side of the saddle horn to the other, and back again.
“You know, sometimes I think he loves this ranch more than us.”

Thad
had no response for such a stupid statement. Instead, he moved past it. “What
happened at Bill’s?”

Nick
shook his head, running a gloved hand through dark, sooty hair before replacing
his hat. “I don’t really know. I saw the house from Kootenai Road, flames comin’
out of every crack. It’d been burnin’ a while. I raced in from the main gate,
and saw Bill and his boys come flyin’ up from the east.” He paused a long time
here as Thad watched the emotions of loss and helplessness play out across his
face. “Bill was runnin’ around outside, screaming for Maggie. I realized he was
gonna go in. The house was on the verge of collapsing. I had to tackle him. The
only way I got him to calm down was by telling him Maggie wasn’t in there.”
Nick lifted his eyes to Thad. “I lied to him. I knew she was. We threw bucket
after bucket on the fire for hours.” Nick clamped his jaw, shook his head. “We
found her by the stove.”

Thad
hated it. He liked Maggie. She always had something nice to say, and never went
to a party without that magnificent cherry pie of hers. She was truly the light
of Bill’s life.

Thad
couldn’t say why tragedies like this happened in a person’s life, but more
importantly, he couldn’t understand how somebody survived them without
believing God held even disasters in His hands.

Knowing
nothing would be solved tonight, he walked over to Nick and grabbed the horse’s
halter. “Here, give me Venus. I’ll put her up. You go inside and eat.”

Moving
like an old man, Nick stepped out of the saddle and dragged himself up the
steps. “Funny,” he said as he crossed the porch to the screen door.
“. . . another fire . . . ”

Thad
stroked Venus’s neck. “You don’t reckon rustlers . . .”

Nick
nodded wearily, his hand on the pull. “I thought of that. But they haven’t been
hittin’ smaller outfits like Bill’s, supposedly.” He opened the door, but
stopped again. “This is the fourth spread adjacent to ours.”

“What
are you sayin’?”

“I’ve
heard talk. Talk that big outfits like us are behind all the trouble in the
county, includin’ the rustling.”

Thad
fingers drew up into fists. He wanted to knock the tar out of Nick for even
dallying with such nonsense. “Where’d you hear that? Independents like Nate
Champion? You know Pa got those other spreads in square deals and paid fair
money for ’em. He’s not strong-armin’ anybody.”

“Sure,”
Nick sounded exhausted, “whatever you say.”

Thad
snatched up Venus’s reins and tugged the horse to the barn. He was sick to
death of the talk of rustlers. Fires happened all the time. A million things
could have started this one; a spark on Maggie’s dress, an ember lodged in a
shingle.

“I
just think it’s odd the way we found Maggie, is all.”

Thad
stopped, but didn’t turn to his brother.

“She
was face-down, not near a window, not curled up.” Nick heaved a sigh and an
instant later, Thad heard the screen door slam shut.

An
accident,
Thad argued as he led Venus away.
Accidents
happen. They happen all the time on ranches.

“Son . . .
Son . . . Sonny . . .”

Vaguely,
Grace acknowledged the pressure of a hand on her shoulder. Pushing her. Shaking
her.

“Rise
and shine, Buttercup.”

Grace
blinked, yawned, and started a luxurious stretch, but muscles she didn’t know
she had screamed in protest, her arms especially. She flinched and moaned and
settled dreamily back onto the settee.

“What’s
the matter, Buttercup. You sore?”

She
heard a soft swat. “Leave him alone.” Raney’s voice. “He worked that pump yesterday
like his life depended on it.”

“Liked
to killed him, I guess. Nick said he fell right out of the saddle last night.
Had to rustle up some grub for him.”

“That
explains my kitchen,” Raney grumbled.

Grace
rubbed her eyes and peered up at her audience. While Raney had almost motherly
sympathy in her expression, Thad’s smirk hinted at his childish delight.
Embarrassed to have been caught snoozing, Grace leaped to her feet. “I’m sorry,
I guess I fell asleep.” She blinked some more, trying to expel the grogginess.
“The bunkhouse is a mess.”

“Well,
I’m here to fix that, Sleeping Beauty.” He squeezed Grace’s arm. She jerked
away with a grimace and he laughed. “What’s the matter, kid, hard work not
agreeing with ya?”

Raney
tsked
,
tsked
his behavior and walked into the kitchen. “Thad,
that boy had a rough day yesterday. Quit funnin’ him.”

Grace
frowned, not amused by Thad’s funnin’
or
his sunny disposition. “My name
is Gra–eg.” She’d almost slipped.

Raney’s
comments seem to sober Thad some, but his good humor didn’t die easily. “Well,
Gra – eg,” he mocked, “get some breakfast in ya and meet me out at the
bunkhouse.” To Grace’s horror, he ruffled her hair like she was some
twelve-year-old boy. Her indignation must have shown. Thad laughed again,
clearly amused by her.

At
the stove, Raney scowled down into an unwashed skillet. “You sure you don’t want
something, Thad? What about your boys?”

“No,
ma’am, we all ate before we left.” He walked over to the door and grabbed his
hat from the hook. “Hurry up and send little man out. We’ll need his help
tearing down all those beams, and we’re burnin’ daylight.”

Little
man?
Grace was both insulted and pleased she was pulling this off. She could,
however, do without Thad Walker’s arrogance and his rambling assortment of
nicknames. Grace stared at the door, unsure of what to make of the swaggering
cowboy. When he’d thought she was a girl, he had been quite different. Almost chivalrous.
“Is he always that—?”

“Cocksure?”

Grace
heard the crack of an egg.

“Yep.
He’s just giving you a hard time ’cause you’re young. He caught it from his
brother, Nick. Now it’s his turn to dish it out.”

Nick?
“The
Nick who brought me here, is his brother?”

Raney
nodded as she stirred the eggs. “Yep. And he’s got another one, too—Adam.” She
wiped her hands on her apron and reached over her head for some pepper. “They
all look a lot like their daddy, but Thad and Adam take more after their mama,
that light coloring and all.”

That
explained why Nick looked familiar. “They’re going to fix your bunkhouse?”

“Yep.
Storm last month dropped an oak clean through it. We can’t have you living out
there with a gaping hole in the ceiling.” With a judicious expression on her
face, Raney tasted the eggs. “Every critter for a hundred miles would be trying
to curl up with you.” Satisfied they would do, she heaped a manly portion onto
a plate, added a biscuit and some bacon, and set it on the table. “Come get
your breakfast.” She poured two cups of coffee and then sat opposite Grace.
“Thank you for your help yesterday. I meant it when I said you worked that pump
like a full-grown man. I was impressed.”

Grace
shrugged. “I just did what I had to do.” She picked up the fork, eager to get
off the subject. “How is Bill?”

Raney
shook her head, as if the answer needed to be wrestled out of her.
“Devastated.” Her eyes glimmered, and she rubbed away the moisture. “He’s a
strong man, though; he’ll make it. I just don’t know if he’ll stay out here.”

Silence
fell between them, and Grace heard the laughter of several men outside.
Butterflies cut loose in her stomach when she thought of going out there.

“You’re
a mess,” Raney told her, crossing her bony arms.

Grace
looked down at herself. Her clothes were smeared with soot, and there was soot
streaked on her hands. She’d forgotten what a sight she was. “Oh, and I slept
on your settee.”

The
older woman dismissed Grace’s concern with a wave of her hand. “That’s no
bother, but you need to get cleaned up a bit before you go help those boys.
Otherwise, you’ll never hear the end of it.” She waved her thumb at the kitchen
door. “There’s a rain barrel out back. That’ll make you presentable at least.”
Deep, hard-won crow’s feet creased her eyes as she took a slow sip of her
coffee. “The boys’ll probably go for a swim in the hot springs when they’re
done today. You can go, too, and take a bath.”

Grace
nearly choked on her egg. She cleared her throat. “A swim? Yeah, maybe. You’re
not paying me to swim, though, ma’am.”

“And
I’m not paying you to stink up my kitchen, either. I don’t care where you get
it, but you’re gettin’ a bath today.”

Thad
thought Raney’s new hand was about the skinniest mongrel he’d ever seen. He
sure worked hard, though, to the point Thad wondered what the kid was trying to
prove. Not that it mattered; he wasn’t his problem, and Thad respected anybody
who was really willing to put his back into it. Greg wasn’t as strong as the
other men, even the ones closer to his age, but he had a lot of heart.

And
it was the dangdest thing, but Thad felt like he’d seen this kid somewhere
before. He watched him work with another cowboy, straining to lift his end of a
roof beam and pass it up to two men on the bunkhouse’s roof. Sweat poured out
of him, his face flushed red, but not a sound of complaint slipped past his
lips.

When
the men broke for lunch, Raney came out with six glasses of lemonade. Greg
immediately helped her pass out the drinks. He thought it odd at first that the
kid had jumped up to help her serve. Usually, only boys with a bunch a sisters
ever did that.

Then
it hit him . . .

Greg
was the spitting image of
Grace Hendrick
.

Thad
rested a dusty boot on an oak stump and watched the boy a little closer. He was
afraid to hope, but just maybe the reason she had gone into the men’s clothing
store was for a relation. A brother? A cousin? He felt the wiggle of excitement
in his gut and cautioned himself against it.

Greg
approached with a glass of the lemonade. “Can you use a drink? Raney said the
sandwiches would be out in a minute.”

“You
have a sister, don’t you?” Thad hadn’t meant to sound so sure, or excited, but
the assertion was out there, so he followed through. “She’s the pretty gal I
met in town yesterday.”

He
knew his own eyes were filled with hope. Greg, on the other hand, looked like
he’d swallowed a frog. “Yes, I have a sister.”

“So,
did she stay in town?”

Greg
glanced at the glass still in his hand, and Thad took it.

“No . . .
she left.” The kid’s whole face tightened and he spun the empty tray in his
hands. Recognizing there was some kind of uncomfortable situation here, Thad
nodded with a casual air, willing to let it drop for the time being. Greg added
one last tidbit, though. “She’s, uh, trying to find a job . . . there
wasn’t anything suitable for a girl in Misery.”

“Is
she in Sheridan then? There should be something there.”

“Yes . . .”
The boy dragged out the answer, but then nodded, as if remembering the details.
“Yes, she’s in Sheridan.”

Thad
couldn’t help but think about the fall gala coming up in a few weeks. “A bunch
of us go over for the SGA’s dance next month. You’d be welcome to come along.
Give you a chance to see your sister.”
And me, too.

Greg
cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

Thad
leaned forward, resting his arms on his knee. “Listen, does your sister have a
beau? I’ve gotta say, she really struck me.”

Greg
gawked at Thad. “She did?”

Thad
flinched and clutched his shirt, right over his heart. “I mean with both
barrels. It’s gonna break my heart if you tell me she has a beau somewhere.”

Greg
bit his lip, pondering. “What she has . . . is a husband.”

Thad
felt like a mule kicked him, right in the bread basket. He lowered his face,
using his hat to hide his disappointment. Knowing he should let this go, he
still found questions . . . which led to hope. He rubbed his
chin thoughtfully. “If she has a husband, what’s she doing out here without
him?”

Greg’s
brow dove hard, disapproving of Thad’s questions. “You’re awful nosy.”

An
evasive answer spurred more hope. “If she’s not hitched, I’m gonna marry her.”

Greg’s
face flushed, and his eyes bugged, but almost instantly his surprise was
replaced with a mean look. “That’s my sister you’re
funnin’
with. She’s
had enough of a hard time without some cocky, insincere cow
boy
pestering
her.”

Thad
dropped his foot and straightened up, towering over the kid. “I appreciate you
trying to protect your sister.” And it was admirable. This young fellow would
clearly tangle with a mountain lion if the critter disrespected his sister, but
he had the wrong idea about Thad. “Now, because you haven’t had a chance to get
to know me, I’ll let that insult slide. I am not a man who dallies with women.
I really would like to see your sister again, and I have only honorable
intentions.”

Greg
stood stock-still, as if trying to read Thad’s face, or his heart. After a
second, he screwed his mouth up into a murderous scowl and grunted. “I said she’s
married.” Then the boy spun and marched into Raney’s house.

Thad
stumbled back and dropped onto the log stump. He felt the hope trying to die,
but, at the same time, something nagged at him to keep the ember glowing.
Obviously, this husband wasn’t a prince among men. What was it Greg had said?
She’s
had enough of a hard time?

What
would make a woman and her brother high-tail it out of Chicago and run all the
way to Middle-of-Nowhere, Wyoming?

Something
bad . . .