Not the Marrying Kind (20 page)

Benjamin joined them, and together the three
of them picked the stricken man up from the ground and carried him
to the wagon. His breathing was shallow and labored, but at least
he was still with them. His eyelids twitched and opened, then he
let out a choking noise and closed his eyes again.

“Pa! Come back! Don’t you dare go dying on
us.” Kat slapped at her father’s cheek. Relief flooded her when he
opened his eyes again.

“It’s not my time,” he said in a hoarse
whisper. “Reckon God doesn’t want me quite yet, otherwise I’d
already be gone.”

“Just hush up,” she scolded. “We’ll have you
home in a few minutes.” She climbed into the wagon and cradled his
head in her lap.

“I’ll bring the horses.” Benjamin looked as
pale as Kat’s father.

“Thanks, Ben. Put them all in the corral,
then come inside when you’re done.”

Still shaken, she sat beside her father as
the wagon moved over the rough pasture and thick grasses. Blaming
herself for what had happened that morning would be too painful,
far more than she could bear. Blaming Joshua Barron would be
easier. Like water trickling down the mountainside, she followed
the path of least resistance, silently cursing the man with each
breath she took.

Before they could get him inside, Kat’s
father blacked out again. Working together, Benjamin, Kat and her
mother carried him into the house and laid him out in the entry
way. A quick application of smelling salts soon brought him back to
consciousness. Kat’s mother checked his vitals, offered up a
prayer, and within moments Dirk Phillips was back on his feet once
more, as obstinate as ever.

He turned toward his wife and the young boy
at her side. “Go on now, both of you. I want a word alone with my
daughter.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he
silenced her with a stern look.

“The game’s over, Kat. You can’t run this
ranch on your own, and I was a fool to let you try.”

“But why did you come after me? Why did you
try to stop me? You could have died.” Kat shuddered each time she
thought of her father collapsing and falling from his horse.
“Nothing like this will ever happen again. I give you my word.”

“I know it won’t happen again. Like I said,
the game’s over. The deal is off.”

“That’s not fair.” Kat stood in front of her
father, her hands clenched at her sides. “You can’t expect me to
succeed unless I have decent help. You’re the one who hired Mr.
Barron,” she reminded him. “Needless to say, I’m firing him. I
don’t ever want to see the man again.”

She wouldn’t wince when she terminated his
employment. Kat had no use for unreliable ranch hands. But she
would regret not seeing Joshua every day. She liked him. She’d
actually come to think of him as a friend. Obviously she was a
rotten judge of character. Another woman might have seen right
through the man and known he couldn’t be trusted.

Her father shook his head. “You know how
much I love you, and believe me, there’s nothing I want more than
your happiness. I’m afraid I’m an old fool where you’re concerned,
Katherine, too willing to give in, too willing to let you have your
way at times. I’m to blame for what happened, not you. I put myself
in jeopardy, and I’d do it again. That’s the trouble.” He linked
his arm in hers and took a few halting steps. “I can’t do it
anymore. I can’t run this place, and neither can you,” he said,
holding up a hand to ward off any protest. “It’s time for both of
us to move on.”

Kat knew she was losing the battle but still
clung to hope. She turned to her last line of defense. “What about
the beef contract?” For years, the Rocking P had supplied the
government with cattle. Although her father counted pride as a
grievous sin, he nevertheless exhibited a certain amount of it
whenever anyone spoke of the important role he played in
maintaining the peace between the ranchers and the native tribes of
the area. He wouldn’t be keen on giving that up.

He stopped. His head jerked around, their
eyes met, and Kat knew she’d found his weak spot, all right. For a
moment, she held her breath, thinking maybe he would change his
mind. Maybe he’d be willing to give her another chance—a fair
chance, this time.

A weary exhalation rattled from his chest.
He sagged against her for support, nearly knocking her off her
feet.

Kat stiffened and somehow managed to keep
them both from falling.

“Pa, are you all right?” A foolish question
if ever there was one. No, her father was
not
all right. He
was a sick man. And he spoke the truth.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

Neither could she.

It was, indeed, time to move on.

“No need for you to worry about the beef,
Katherine,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Wes Randall
will be more than happy to take over. He’s wanted that contract for
a long time.”

“Can you do that? Legally? I mean, the
government signed the agreement with you, Pa, nobody else.”

“And I’ll sign an agreement with Randall.”
He patted her hand. “Randall’s a reliable fellow. He’ll see that
the government gets that beef on time.”

“Pa, please—” Her last tearful entreaty
faded into silence.

Her father reached up to place a hand at her
cheek. “I need to know that you’ll be all right after I’m gone. I
need to be sure you’ve got someone to look out for you, someone to
take care of you and support you. You belong with a good
husband.”

“I belong here on this ranch.”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve got to accept my
decision. I’m too old to fight and too tired to argue anymore.”

The discussion was over, Kat knew. “Let me
help you to your study,” she said in a quiet voice. She guided him
gently, and he shuffled along beside her.

When they reached his study, he let go of
Kat’s hand, crossed the room to his favorite chair and slumped down
into it.

“Will you be all right?” she asked,
reluctant to leave him. “Can I get you anything?”

His face brightened, and a slight grin
appeared. “You know what I want.” He leaned his head back and shut
his eyes. “All I want is a little place in town where I can sit on
my porch in the evenings, look out, and see my grandchildren at
play.”

“Pa, I—”

His eyes opened, he bent forward again, and
his hands gripped the edges of his chair. “I need that, Katherine.
Can’t you understand that, honey?” Tears welled in his eyes. “The
Good Book tells us all our days are numbered, and right now, I
reckon my number’s a bit shorter than most. I don’t have much time
left, and I know it.”

She couldn’t bear to hear him talk that way.
“Hush, Pa. Everything’s going to be all right.” With quick steps,
she went to him. Her hands trembled as she propped the chair’s
thick pillows behind her father’s back. “Are you comfortable
now?”

Glancing up, he nodded his thanks. “I’ve
made up my mind, you know. Nothing you do or say will change it.
You’re going to marry Reverend Kendrick, like it or not.” He
cleared his throat and looked away. “I’m riding into town tomorrow
to speak to him. I’m giving him my blessing.”

From the doorway came another voice. “You’re
doing no such thing, you stubborn old goat. Tomorrow, I’m taking
you to Denver to see the doctor.” Amanda Phillips marched into the
study. She went to her husband and busied herself re-adjusting the
cushions on the chair.

Kat watched her mother’s loving
ministrations and thought of her own attempts to help her father.
That’s what women did, she realized. They instinctively sought ways
to bring comfort, to ease pain. Maybe she did have a little
womanliness about her, after all.

Or maybe not. Maybe her mother had only
stepped in to correct Kat’s fumbling efforts.

Amanda glanced back toward her daughter.
“You go on upstairs now. Don’t be bothering your father again. I
think you’ve caused enough problems.”

Kat’s throat went dry. She hadn’t meant any
harm. She only wanted to help. Her stomach churning, she fled from
the room.

* * * *

Joshua spent the day in Denver, stopping
first to pay a call on Judge William Howard Morse, Sr. and offer a
further apology for Willie’s broken nose.

“Knew I recognized your name, Barron.” The
judge waved a sheaf of papers in front of his face, fanning himself
in the afternoon heat. “Everything’s in order, of course.” He
stopped waving and set the papers down on his desk. “I think you’ll
find our system of justice here to be carefully administrated, if I
do say so myself.” He thrust his shoulders back, and Joshua thought
for a moment the man might actually crow. Fortunately, the breath
rushed out of him and he sank down into his chair. He tapped the
papers again. “State of Missouri notified all federal judges of
your release. So long as you keep your nose clean, you won’t have
any problems in our territory.”

“I wasn’t released, sir,” Joshua corrected.
“I was exonerated.”

“Same difference, really. You’re a free
man.”

“Yeah, right. Same difference.” Not really,
of course, but Joshua had no desire to antagonize Morse, especially
not in light of the fact he’d lied to the man the day before and
had accepted responsibility—more or less—for the bloody, broken
nose the man’s son had suffered.

Considering himself lucky to still be
anywhere close to the official’s good graces, Joshua hurried out of
the judge’s office. Cody had given him the names and addresses of
several fancy
upstairs houses,
but Joshua had no desire to
visit with the working girls.

Instead, he spent the rest of the day riding
aimlessly through the streets of the town, taking note of the signs
of growth and development he saw. In time, Denver might make
something grand of itself, Joshua thought, pleased to be part of
the vast Colorado Territory and all it promised for the future.

Folks in Denver were progressive, he noted,
as he rode down Arapahoe Street where the town’s first public
school was nearing completion. He stopped and chatted with a couple
passing by, feeling their excitement and the energy that hummed
through the air.

At once, the words of the old counting game
came to mind.

Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief.

“Doctors, lawyers, merchants, and chiefs,”
Joshua recited aloud, seeing a tall, carved Indian figure standing
outside a tobacco shop. A good place to stop, he decided.

He went inside, bought a couple cigars for
himself and one for Dirk Phillips. They’d be closing their deal in
a day or two, and the Rocking P Ranch would officially belong to
him. He was thinking of calling it the Crooked B…or maybe the
Circle B. He hadn’t decided yet.

When he’d been set free from prison,
released after years of wrongful incarceration, the state of
Missouri had seen fit to give him a nice little settlement. Hush
money, in a sense, that’s what it really was. Governments were
funny that way, didn’t really like folks talking about mistakes
they’d made, didn’t really want Joshua telling the tale of how he’d
been kept holed up in the Missouri State Penitentiary for three
long years even though he’d done nothing wrong. Of course, the fact
he’d threatened to sue the state had sped the process up a bit, and
he’d ridden away from Jefferson City with enough cold, hard cash to
make a new start for himself. Almost enough to make him forget the
miseries he’d suffered during those three long years. Almost, but
not quite. Some things a man couldn’t forget too easily.

For some reason, the image of Kat Phillips
came into his mind, superimposing itself upon his troubled
thoughts. He pulled out his pocket watch, flipped the case open,
and nodded. By now, the pretty little redhead would have figured
out that he wasn’t going to show up for work that day. She’d be
fuming and fussing like all get-out. Joshua winced. He didn’t like
letting people down, but sometimes it happened. It bothered him all
the more because it was Kat. Actually, his actions were for her
benefit, although it would be a while before she got around to
accepting that fact. Sure as anything, she’d be mad as hell at
first, especially after her father laid down the law, so to speak,
and declared his little agreement with his daughter to be null and
void.

She would be angry. She would be hurt. And
she would think it all Joshua’s fault.

He squared his shoulders. It seemed to be
his lot in life to be the fall guy, the one who shouldered the
blame even when it didn’t rightly belong to him. But he was doing
this for Kat, he reminded himself, and if he had it to do over,
he’d do it again, gladly. He was giving her what she wanted
most—the chance to stay right there on the ranch she loved.

In the end, she’d surely thank him.

“A spouse and a house,” he said aloud,
nodding at the thought. That’s what Kat stood to gain from
this.

Joshua took out one of the cigars he’d
bought, bit off the end, then reconsidered. He’d save the cigar for
later. He stuffed it back into his vest pocket, wheeled his horse
around and headed toward Sunset.

Hell, yes, he’d done the right thing.

For Kat. For Cody.

She’d have her beloved ranch, Cody would
have a wife to care for him, and they could all live happily ever
after at the Crooked B ranch. Or maybe it should be the Circle
B.

Yeah, that seemed more fitting. One big
circle drawing them all together. Nice thought, really.

When he reached the cabin that evening, Cody
came at him at once, peppering him with questions like buckshot
fired from the shotgun he kept at his bedside. Cody kept a lot of
guns around the cabin. Shotguns. Rifles. A couple pistols. Anybody
ever got on Cody Bradford’s bad side, they’d sure as hell be
sorry.

“Does that gal know what’s going on yet? Did
you tell her you’d bought the place? Is she wanting to marry up
with me?” His voice had an odd note about it. Odder than usual.