Brazen (4 page)

The Bar T Ranch

"Race you back to the house!" Casey called out as she
put her heels to her mount's sides.

Her horse bolted into action. They galloped off, leaving
Pete Stuart, the foreman on the Bar T, standing in a cloud
of dust.

"You're on!" Pete hollered. He swung up into his saddle
and charged after her.

Casey was smiling as she leaned low over Raven's neck,
moving as one with the animal. She enjoyed the feel of
the wind in her face and the sense that they were almost
flying. Pete had been bragging about how fast his new
horse Lightning was, and she was determined to show
him Raven was still the best on the Bar T.

They tore across the countryside, Pete and Lightning trailing slightly behind. As the ranch came into view,
Casey could tell he was gaining on her, but she wasn't
about to give up. She urged Raven on, and they raced up
to the stable in a cloud of dust, victorious.

Some of the ranch hands saw them coming and were
cheering her on.

Casey reined in abruptly and was laughing in exhilaration when Pete caught up to her moments later.

"I told you Raven was the best!" she declared proudly.

"You may have won this time, but you had a head
start," Pete countered.

"I won. That's all that matters," Casey insisted.

"Winning is everything to you, isn't it?"

"That's right," she said, still grinning at him as she dismounted and stroked her stallion's neck adoringly.

George, one of the hands, came to take Raven from
her.

"Thanks." She handed the reins to him, then glanced
up toward the house. She was surprised to see a horse
tied up out front.

"Who's up at the house with Pa?" she asked.

"I don't know. I was busy working and didn't see anybody ride in," George answered as he led Raven away.

"I guess I'd better find out what's going on." It wasn't
often they had company.

"You go on for now, but we're going to race again,"
Pete insisted, dismounting.

"Why would you want to lose to me twice?" Casey
asked with good-humored arrogance as she started off
toward the house.

Pete chuckled to himself as he watched Casey go. She
was one helluva female. He knew the boss regretted not
having a son, but Casey had proven herself time and
again to be as good as any man when it came to riding
and shooting. Pete respected her gumption and her abilities. He even respected her decision to dress like one of
the hands in pants, shirts and boots when she was working on the ranch. She was a woman who knew her own
mind. He was still smiling as he turned back to tend to
Lightning. She won today, but he would have his rematch.

"Where were you early yesterday afternoon, Jack?" Sheriff
Montgomery asked, eyeing the stocky, middle-aged
rancher suspiciously as they stood face-to-face in the parlor of the Bar T ranch house. The bad blood between the
Turners and the Donovans was common knowledge, and
that put Jack Turner at the top of the list of people Montgomery needed to check out regarding Frank Donovan's
shooting. Not that he had any proof Jack was involved.
When he'd ridden out to the Circle D the day before to
speak with the wounded rancher, Frank had had no idea
who'd ambushed him.

"Where do you think I was? I was out working my
stock," Jack replied sarcastically. "Shouldn't you be back
in Hard Luck enforcing the law? What do you want with
me?"

Montgomery ignored Jack's questions. "You got any
witnesses who can vouch for you?"

"Ask my men. They can tell you." His gaze narrowed
as he looked at the sheriff.

"I'll do just that," Montgomery told him as he started
from the house to seek out the ranch hands.

"Wait a minute, Sheriff," Jack growled harshly, and he
was gratified when the lawman stopped and looked back
at him. "What's this all about?"

The sheriff looked him straight in the eye as he answered, "Somebody shot Frank Donovan yesterday."

"What?"

"You heard me. He was shot in the back,
robbed and left for dead."

Jack frowned. Tm not denying I've got no use for Donovan, but 1 didn't shoot him."

"I'm just going to make sure of that."

"How is he?" Jack asked, following him.

"He's alive," was all Montgomery answered as they left
the house.

"Sheriff Montgomery?" Casey was startled as she came
face-to-face with him on the front porch.

"Miss Turner." He nodded to her but kept walking toward the corral where Pete and some of the other men
were working.

Casey looked at her father as the sheriff moved off. "Pa?
What is he doing here?"

Jack was disgusted as he quickly explained what he'd
learned.

"And the sheriff thinks you did it?" she asked, both
shocked and worried.

"Pete and the boys will tell him where I was. There's
nothing to worry about."

"I hope not."

They waited together on the porch, watching as Sheriff
Montgomery spoke at length with the men. When the
sheriff started back toward the house, Pete came with
him.

"Are you satisfied now, Sheriff?" Jack asked angrily.

"Your men covered for you, if that's what you're asking,
Jack," he replied.

"We didn't have to cover for him," Pete said in his
boss's defense. "We told you the truth. There's no reason
to lie. Jack was with us all day yesterday."

Sheriff Montgomery mounted up and nodded to them.
"I'll be seeing you."

Jack felt bile rise in his throat as he watched the lawman ride away. "Bastard."

"What did you say, Pa?"

"Nothing."

"Are you all right?" Casey asked, seeing that he had
grown pale.

"I'm as fine as I can be, considering the sheriff just accused me of shooting Frank Donovan down in cold blood
and robbing him."

"He knows you didn't do it now," Pete reassured him.
"We told him."

"That's right, Pa. Everything's all right."

Jack moved slowly toward the stable. "Then let's get
back to work."

John McQueen was furious as he stormed into the bunkhouse at his ranch, the Royal.

The men lounging there looked up, startled.

"Boss?"

"Get out," he ordered, his gaze focusing on the one
man who lay asleep on his cot, an empty whiskey bottle
on the floor beside him.

The men quickly disappeared outside, leaving him
alone with Sid. They didn't know what Sid had done, but
it had to be bad to get the boss this riled.

John stared down at the man who was passed out in a
drunken stupor.

"Celebrating, were you?" he snarled as he picked up
the small bucket of water sitting near the washstand and
dumped the contents in the unconscious man's face.

Sid Midland sat up with a start, choking on the water
and cussing wildly, only to find himself staring down the
barrel of his boss's gun. Sid's bloodshot eyes widened in
shock, for he knew how deadly and dangerous his boss
could be.

"What the-"

"I don't pay you to miss, Sid!" he said in a low, threatening voice. He had hired the fellow because of his reputation as a gunman.

"Miss? What are you talking about?"

"Donovan is still alive!"

"Oh, yes." He stepped back and slowly holstered his
weapon. "You told me he was dead. You told me-"

Sid interrupted him to protest, "I went down and
robbed him just like you said. He wasn't moving!"

"He wasn't moving because he's paralyzed, but he isn't dead. When I send you out to do a job for me, I expect
you to do it right."

"You want me to go finish it?"

"No," John answered harshly. "You just lay low and
keep your mouth shut. I'll handle it from here."

John stalked from the bunkhouse in complete disgust.
He'd had a plan ready to set in motion. With Frank Donovan out of the way, it would have been simple for him
to take over the Circle D.The newly widowed Elizabeth
Donovan, alone and without any man to guide her, would
have been eager to sell out. He would have been just as
eager to offer his sympathy as he bought the ranch, which
Frank had refused to sell to him when he'd made an offer
several months before. Now, word had come from town
that Frank was still alive, and everything had changed.

Silently John cursed Sid again as he began to rethink
his plan for gaining control of the neighboring ranches.
His goal was to be the biggest, most successful rancher
in this part of Texas, and nothing was going to stop him.

As he considered his situation, John realized it was time
to concentrate on the Bar T instead of the Circle D.He
had had his eye on Casey Turner. She was different from
any other female he'd ever met. Just the sight of her wearing those pants of hers left him hot with wanting. He had
been taking his time with her, wooing her slowly, but now
that his plan for the Circle D had been ruined, he would
concentrate on Casey and her ranch.

The Turners' finances were so shaky, Casey might just
marry him for his money. One way or the other, the Bar
T-and Casey be his.

Michael stared out the window of the train car, wondering
if it were possible for time to pass any more slowly. He
and Nick had been traveling for three days now, and it
had seemed an eternity to him.

"We'll get there," said Nick, who was sitting beside him.

"I know, it's just a matter of when," Michael said flatly.

Nick wanted to reassure him that everything would be
all right, that he shouldn't worry, but he couldn't. There
was no way for them to know what was happening with
his father.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do once
you get there? Is your mother going to need you to stay
on at the ranch now that your father's so seriously injured?"

"It will all depend on my father. He'd never leave the
Circle D of his own free will, but if he can't physically run
things anymore-"

"It would fall to you."

"Yes."

"And will you stay?"

Nick had asked the question that had been haunting
Michael ever since he'd received the telegram.

Michael frowned. "I don't know. Philadelphia has been
home for a long time now. I'll just have to see what happens once we get to the ranch."

Both men fell silent as they tried to anticipate what they
would face when they finally reached their destination.
Nick hoped things weren't going to be as bad as they
feared.

Hard Luck, Texas

"So this is Hard Luck," Nick said as he got his first look at
the town. Hot, dry and dusty, it was certainly a far cry
from the sophistication of Philadelphia. He was accustomed to paved streets, brick buildings and greenery. It
looked like he was about to learn a whole new way of
life. He had a good idea how Hard Luck must have gotten
its name, for some of the buildings definitely looked as if
they'd seen better days.

Nick had come on this trip to help Michael. He
wouldn't have had it any other way, but he had to smile
at the realization that if things had gone as planned, they
would have been standing on the deck of a ship, gazing
out to sea as they sailed for Europe right now, not staring out a stagecoach window at this town he wasn't quite sure
was civilized.

"Yes, this is it," Michael told him, watching out his side
as they passed the general store, the hotel and the jail.
Nothing seemed to have changed in the years he'd been
away. The town still looked pretty much the same, although a little more run-down. It felt good to be thereto be home he felt a pang of regret that his homecoming wasn't for a happier reason.

The stagecoach slowed as it neared the stage depot.
When it finally drew to a stop, Michael was the first to
climb down. Now that they were so close to the Circle D,
he was growing more anxious to get home.

"How long will it take to get out to the ranch?" Nick
asked as he joined Michael in the street.

"About an hour by buckboard," he answered. "I'll rent
one down at the stable so we can take our trunks with
us."

"Let's go. It's been too long for you already. We need
to get you home."

Leaving their trunks at the depot for the time being,
they started off.

"Did you get him all fixed up?" Casey asked Fitz as she
returned to the stable to get her buckboard. She'd come
into town for supplies, and on the way in, one of the
horses had thrown a shoe. She'd had to bide her time
while Fitz took care of it for her.

"You're all set," Fitz told her, pointing to where he'd
left the horse tied up. "You need any help?" Knowing Casey's pride, he doubted she'd accept his aid, but he
thought he'd offer.

"I can do it," Casey told him as she paid him for his
work.

She got her horse and led him out in front to the buckboard to hitch him up again.

Michael and Nick made their way through Hard Luck,
heading toward the stable.

"I think I'm going to need a change of clothes," Nick
remarked with wry humor, noticing how some of the
townsfolk were staring at them. The gentlemanly suits and
ties they'd worn on the trip were common dress back
East, but they certainly made the two young men stand
out in Hard Luck.