Lady of the Gun (22 page)

"Oh, well, I don't have
time for that now.” Turning a few more pages, she finally found the section on fencing. There she found the barbed wire. "I didn't know there was more than one kind," she remarked.

"What can I do for you, Cassidy?
” Jasper Martin asked her, stepping behind the counter.

"I'd like to order some barbed wire, Mr. Martin."

Jasper looked suspiciously at her.

Brett noticed that all conversation in the store stopped
completely.

"You having trouble keeping your cows out of a garden
or something?" he ventured.

"No, sir.
I’m going to fence my entire property. You can put in the order for me, can't you?"

"I can." Martin looked around the store at his other customers.
They were all waiting to hear what he was going to say. "Are you sure you want to do this, Cassidy?"

"Yes. I've thought about it for quite a while.
It's the only way I'll accomplish what I've set out to do," she answered.

Brett's eyes narrowed at her explanation. She was being
vague in her truth telling. "I've discussed it with her, Mr. Martin. There's no talking her out of it," he said.

One old gentleman left his checker ga
me and crossed the room. "You'd better talk her out of it, Marshal. I know folks around here who'd kill for less."

"
Someone already did." Cass's voice cut coldly through the room.

The old man turned to face her directly. "Yes, they did
. But from what I've heard, you're no better than them murderers."

"I o
nly made them pay for killing my family.'

"Killing is
killing. It ain't right for no reason."

"'An eye for an eye," quoted Cass.

"And 'Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord,” the man responded. "You can quote Scripture to me all day and it won't change the facts. You're a killer, Cassidy. Where you go, trouble follows. And this thing with the barbed wire will start trouble, as sure as I’m standing here."

Cass stared into the rheumy eyes of the old man. "I'
m not closing my land to everyone. I'm going to talk to my neighbors. They'll understand."

"You're a fool if you believe that," he said as he tur
ned away from her. Walking back to his seat next to the barrel, he sat down, apparently through talking.

Cass sighed and turned to face the storekeeper once
more. "Will you help me figure out how much wire I'll need?" she asked.

Martin just nodded and reached for some paper and a
pencil.

Brett watched for the next
fifteen minutes as Martin and Cass bent their heads over their figures.

"That should about do it, Cassidy," Martin pronounced
.

"Great. Do I pay for it now?" she asked. "I can go to
the bank."

"Yes. I'll need the money to place the order"'

"When will the order go in?"

"I'll send it out in tomorrow's mail," he answered.

"Alright. You write it up, and I'll go get the money." Cass turned and started for the door. "You coming?" she said to Brett as she passed.

"I guess so," Brett answered, shaking his head in
frustration.

"Are you really sure you have to do this?" Brett asked
one more time.

"
I'm sure, Brett," she said adamantly, frowning at him over her shoulder.

Brett watched her withdraw the necessary money from
the bank, then followed her back to the store. When they got there they saw that a small crowd had formed.

"What's the
meaning of this, Cass?" Seth Baker, one of Cass's neighbors asked. Several others joined in with questions.

"Calm down, everyone," Cass told them, raising her hands
to get them to quiet down. "I'm putting in gates. All you have to do is use them. You can still gain access the Losee over my land."

"Then what's the point, Cass? You just trying to make
things more difficult for us?"

"Not at all. I know
it’ll be a little more inconvenient for you, but trust me, it's something I have to do."

Someone in the crowd spoke up: "
I've seen what barbed wire does to cattle. It cuts the hell out of them."

"If any of your cattle are injured by the wire, I'll reimburse
you. You see, you have nothing to worry about."

Baker piped up again. "Like hell we don't" My cows don't
know how to open gates, and I ain't always around to do it for 'em. And August is just around the corner. It's already hittin' near ninety every day."

"Yeah," the others
chimed in.

"Look. I'm sorry if this has come as a shock to you. I've
already said I'll make it as easy as I can for you to get across my land, and I've offered to pay for any of your cattle that might be injured. There's nothing more I can do."

"You can change your mind about the wire," Baker told
her to a chorus of angry voices.

"I won't do that.
I'm putting up the wire, and you'll all just have to learn to live with my conditions," she said, standing her ground.

A few in the crowd took threatening steps forward, but
stopped when they saw the look in Brett's eyes as he stood behind her.

"This ain't the last of this," gru
mbled Baker as he stomped away.

"Yeah, you'll be hearing from us," growled another
rancher before leaving with Baker.

A few minutes later the crowd had dispersed. Sighing
openly, Brett turned to face Cass.

"You don't have to say it, Brett.
I already know what you're thinking." Stepping through the doors into the now empty store, Cass walked up to the counter. "Have you got the order written, Mr. Martin?" she asked.

The man nodded.

"Then let's get this over with." She tossed the money on the counter.

Chapter Eleven

“Mmmm, this is delicious," Cass crooned over a piece of pecan pie a while later in the hotel restaurant.

"I'm glad you're en
joying it," said Brett.

"I'm glad you suggested it," she answered, smiling up over
a bite of pie. "Are you finished already?"

Brett looked down at
his empty plate. "Appears so. I don't think my piece was as large as yours."

"Hah. If anything, it was
almost twice as big. If I didn't know better, I'd swear Rosie had a crush on you,', she teased.

"Rosie didn't cut the pie. The other waitress did," he
answered.

"Maybe," Cass mumbled, her mouth full of pie, "but Rosie's
been staring at you ever since we came in."

Brett turned slightly in his seat and looked at Rosie standing
behind the counter. She was staring at him, just as Cass said she was. Something about her expression disturbed him. It was almost as if she wanted to speak to him, but was afraid to. "Excuse me a minute, will you, Cass? I want to find out what's bothering her."

"Sure. I'
ll just sit here and stuff my face." She grinned up at him as he left their table and crossed the room.

"Rosie, is so
mething wrong?" Brett asked as he approached the counter.

“
No, Marshal, nothing," Rosie answered a bit too quickly.

"Are you sure? You seem uneasy. You know you can
talk to me,'" he offered.

Rosie glanced down at her hands, which were nervously
twisting a damp towel. She stopped them. "No, really. I'm fine," she said.

Brett stood there a moment longer. Rosie's complexion
was sallow and her eyes were dark-rimmed, as though she hadn't been sleeping. He decided to try another angle. "Is it a female thing, Rosie? I could send Cass over to talk to you if…"

"No! I don't want her." Rosie lowered her eyes. "I mean,
I don't want to talk to anybody about my troubles."

At least she
’d admitted she had trouble, he thought. "Cass is a good person, Rosie. You should give her a chance," he said.

"She killed all those men," she said, glancing apprehensively
in Cass's direction.

"Yes. She did what she felt she had to do. Can you honestly
say you wouldn't want to do the same under similar circumstances?"

Rosie
met his gaze again. "I suppose I'd be lying if I said I never felt the desire to kill anyone."

Brett's brow knitted in curiosity. He wondered who a usually
happy person like Rosie would have wanted to kill. Then the answer struck him. "Ramsey?" he said softly.

Rosie's eyes became wide with fear. "I didn't say that. I
didn't say nothin' about Ramsey Tylo. You didn't hear me say that," she gasped.

"All right, Rosie.
Calm down. You didn't say anything. I'm sorry I suggested it," he said quickly.

“
Don't ever say that again, Marshal Ryder. Don't ever tell anyone I said any such thing."

"Al
l right, Rosie,” he assured. “I promise. I won’t ever mention it again.”

Rosie let out a sigh
of relief.  “I gotta go now. I’ve got work to do," she said, laying the towel on the counter. Picking up the coffee pot, she went to refill her customer’s cups.

B
rett leaned against the counter and watched her go. It took him a second to realize she was limping slightly. Walking back to where Cass was scraping the last crumbs from her plate, he sat down. “You’ve known Rosie for a long time, haven't you?” he asked,

"Yes. I've known her most of my life,
” she answered.

"Does she have a limp?
”

"Not t
hat I'm aware of,” she answered, swiveling in her seat to look in Rosie's direction. “She
is
limping, Brett. Did you ask her why?”

Brett shook his head.
“I didn’t notice it until we were through talking.”

"Maybe she fell,
” Cass surmised.

"
Maybe," Brett answered.

"Did she tell you why she was staring at you? Did she
confess that she’s madly in love with you?” she teased.

Brett gave her a half grin.
“I told you on the Fourth that I thought there was something wrong with her. I think she’s in some kind of serious trouble, and I think it has something to do with Ramsey.”

Cass thought for a moment.
“He did say they'd spent time together," she offered.

"Did he say anything more tha
n that?”

"No. I was surprised, though," she
remarked.

"
Why?”

"Well, this may sound a bit snobbish, but Rosie just isn
’t Ramsey's type."

"And you are?
” Brett asked.

“
I knew you'd take me wrong. To be honest, I’m still baffled as to why he wants to spend time with me,” she confessed.

"Really, Cass," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes for
emphasis.

Cass frowned at him. "Ramsey never knew I existed when
we were growing up. He's only just noticed me since he came back home. And as far as Rosie's concerned," she paused here, remembering the taunts, “he was cruel to her, Brett."

"Cruel?"

"He teased her unmercifully. And not just the usual kind of teasing children do to one another."

"Like what?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Rosie was the first girl in our school to develop. All the boys noticed, of course, but Ramsey used to chase her home. He'd corner her, then grab her breasts and yell to everyone that she felt just like his old milk cow. It was really horrible," she recalled.

“
He never did things like that to you?"

"As I said, he never noticed I was alive. So
mething I was grateful for at the time," she said,

"Really?" he teased.

"Ramsey was the son of the wealthiest man in town. A lot of the girls had secret crushes on him. But not Rosie. I'm sure she hated him."

"Maybe that's what she meant," he said, thinking out
loud.

"By what?"

"She said she'd wanted to kill someone."

"And you think she meant Ramsey?"

"Maybe."

"But that was years ago, Brett. We've all grown up."

"Then why is Rosie still so afraid of Ramsey?"

Cass looked down at her empty plate for a moment.
Shrugging, she glanced back up. "I don't know.'"