Brazen (9 page)

A smile curved her lips as she imagined making the trip to his ranch to surprise him. It would certainly be the most
outrageous and daring thing she'd ever done, but she
knew the prize of marrying Michael was worth the risk.

Jack glared at Allen Foster, the bespectacled, balding
bank president, as he sat across the desk from him in his
office.

"What do you mean my loan isn't in good standing,
Foster?" Jack demanded. "I just made a payment."

"You owe the bank a lot more, Jack. I don't see how
you're going to be able to pay it off. The way things are
going for you, I may have to call in your loan."

"What are you talking about? You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can," Foster said with calm deliberation. "Any
time there's a perceived risk"

"The Bar T is not a risk. We may not be the biggest
ranch around, but we've got the best water in the whole
county. You know that!"

"That's all well and good, but if you're not bringing in
enough money to pay off your debts, there's no saving
you.,,

"Don't you worry, Foster. You'll get your damned
money," Jack gritted out furiously.

"I'm counting on that, Jack. I can give you a month."

"A month?" Jack reacted without thought. He leaped
to his feet and reached across the desk to grab the banker
by his shirt front. "You low-down, pencil-pushing son
of a"

"All right, all right! Two months! But no more!" Foster gasped, frightened by this sudden display of fury. He'd
never known Jack to be so violent before.

Jack shoved him back down in his chair in disgust.

"You'll get your money, Foster," he snarled, and turned
to leave the bank. Somehow, some way, he had to get
the money to pay back the bank. The only problem was
he had no idea how he was going do it.

Jack stopped and stood for a moment on the sidewalk,
staring blindly about himself, trying to decide what to do.
The thought of a strong shot of whiskey appealed, so he
headed for the Sundown saloon. He had some deep
thinking to do. There was so much at stake, and he had
so little time.

"How did it go?" John McQueen asked Foster when he
met with him at the bank an hour later.

"I don't know if your plan will work or not. Turner was
more than a little angry when he left here."

"Keep the pressure on him. I'll take care of the rest."

Satisfied with the work Foster was doing, John left the
bank. Keeping the banker secretly on his payroll was one
of the smartest things he'd ever done. He was very
pleased with himself as he went in search of Jack Turner.

It didn't take John long to find Jack at the bar in the
Sundown.

"Afternoon, Jack," he greeted him casually as he went
to stand beside him.

Jack slanted him a sidelong glance as he took another
deep drink of his whiskey. "Hello, McQueen."

John ordered a whiskey, too. "Life been treating you
good?"

"Can't complain," he answered tersely, just wishing the
other man would go away.

"Sounds like you're luckier than most. What with Donovan being ambushed and Maguire having to sell out,
times are pretty hard around here."

"Seems that way."

"I wonder what the world's coming to."

"I don't know, and I don't worry about it. I just try to
keep the Bar T running."

"The Bar T is a fine ranch."

"That's true. I heard you bought out Maguire."

"Yes, I did. You ever think about selling?"

"No."

John had known Jack would be tough. "I heard talk
that you might be having some money problems."

Jack looked at him sharply. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Word gets around," he replied easily. "If you ever
change your mind about selling, I'll make you a fair offer
for the place."

"It doesn't matter what kind of offer you make me. The
Bar T isn't for sale." His instinctive mistrust of McQueen
was growing even stronger.

"Well, think about it," John insisted.

"I don't have to think about it. I told you, the answer is
no.,,

John was angry with the old fool, but he kept smiling.
"If you change your mind, you know where you can find
me."

"That isn't going to happen, McQueen."

Jack hadn't been ready to quit drinking and leave yet,
but McQueen's presence drove him from the bar. He
quickly downed the rest of his whiskey and walked out.

The ride home was a long one.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, but Jack
didn't notice. He was too deeply lost in thought. He had
to find a way to save the ranch.

Pain ate at him, gnawing at his insides. He tried to ignore it. He reined in as he topped the low rise that overlooked the house and took a moment to study the scene
below.

It was almost sundown. The Bar T looked peaceful in
the deepening shadows, almost heavenly to him.

Jack told himself he'd withstood hard times before and
he could do it again. After his wife Emily's untimely death
when Casey had been a young girl, he had almost given
up. But the Bar T had meant so much to Emily that he'd
been inspired to work even harder, to make the ranch a
success in her memory.

Jack remembered other bad times, of rustling and
drought. He'd had run-ins with the Donovans, too, but
through it all, he'd kept working, believing he would succeed. Now, for the first time, he was deeply worried. He
had to find a way to get the cash he needed to pay off
the bank, and he needed to do it fast.

Jack rode on up to the ranch house, his pace slow.

Casey saw him coming and came outside to meet him.

"How were things in town?" she asked as he dismounted.

He had been debating how much he shoulfl tell her,
and he realized he couldn't hide it from her much longer.
"We've got some trouble."

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"Foster's pressuring me to pay off the bank loan."

"Have we got the money?" She could tell by his manner
just how serious the situation was.

"No."

"What are we going to do?"

"I ran into McQueen in town. He offered to buy us
out--"

"We aren't selling," she interrupted him.

"That's what I told him." Jack was grim.

"Good. We'll figure something out. I'll go over the
books again and see if I can find some extra money somewhere." She'd been doing their book work for the last few
years. She'd known their funds were tight, but she'd never
dreamed the bank would call in their loan so unexpectedly.

Jack was glad Casey was confident. He just wished he
was as certain as she was about it. Unfortunately, the only
thing he was certain about was how bad he felt.

"Are you ready for dinner?"

"No, I'm tired. I think I'll go rest for a while and eat
later."

"I'll take care of your horse," Casey offered. She took
up the reins and led the horse off to the stable.

Jack watched her for a moment, then went inside. He'd
expected the pain he'd tolerated on the ride back to ease
once he'd gotten home, but it had only intensified.

He tried to make it to his bedroom to lie down.

The pain hit harder, tearing through him, ripping at his
left side arm chest.

Jack had never known such agony.

He gritted his teeth against the stabbing pain as sweat
beaded his brow. He fought for control, but swayed unsteadily on his feet and feared for the first time that he
truly might be dying.

Worry about Casey and who would take care of her
consumed him.

Without him, she would be all alone in the world.

" He tried to call her name, but it came out
only in a hoarse whisper.

Jack grabbed the back of the sofa to support himself.
He was too weak, though.

Blackness overwhelmed him.

He collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.

"You're lucky you're alive," Dr. Murray told Jack as he
stood over him where he lay in bed.

"It's that bad?"

"Yes. It's your heart."

Jack met the doctor's gaze unflinchingly. "I want the
truth, Doc. Tell me long have I got?"

"I'd be God if I could answer that question. The truth
is, Jack, with a condition like yours, there is no way of
knowing. It could be tomorrow or it could be six months
from now"

Jack's physical pain was gone for now, but a different
agony filled him. He'd never faced the truth of his own
mortality before.

"Don't tell Casey any of this. What happened today has
already been too much of a shock for her."

"She needs to know the truth."

"I'll tell her when the time is right," Jack insisted.
"You've got to promise me-"

"All right. I'll respect your wishes now. Just get
some rest. In a day or two, you can start moving around.
See how your strength holds up."

"When can I get back to work?"

"Jack, your condition is serious," Dr. Murray said worriedly.

"I have a ranch to run."

"You can't very well run it if you drop dead, now can
you? You have to give yourself time to regain some
strength."

"All right," Jack agreed, just to shut the doctor up. He
had some serious thinking to do, and he wanted him
gone.

"I'll check back in on you in a few days."

"Thanks."

Dr. Murray went to speak with Casey, leaving Jack by
himself.

Jack was deeply troubled. The doctor had made it plain
he could go at any time, and he was worried about what
would happen to Casey if he died. With the Bar T in such
a bad way financially, there would be no one to take care
of her.

Jack knew she'd be furious with him if she were aware
of his thoughts. Casey believed she was the equal of any
man. She believed she could take care of herself, and she
wasn't shy about letting everyone know it.

Still, Jack wished Casey had a man in her life-a husband who could take over for him at the ranch. Regret filled Jack that he hadn't encouraged her to be more feminine, but she'd shown no interest in those things while
growing up. She'd always preferred working with horses
and stock than attending the socials in town.

Jack grew desperate as he thought of Casey trying to
repay the bank on her own. His desperation turned to
determination. He had to find a way to make sure she
was protected and to save the Bar T.With no close relatives to step in and take charge, there was only one solution.

He had to find Casey a husband who had money and
he had to do it fast.

The doctor had said he might die tomorrow or he might
die in six months. Jack knew he didn't have a minute to
waste.

He thought of the men around town. Casey had had a
few suitors, but she hadn't taken any of them seriously.
Young Al Burke, who worked in the telegraph office, fancied her, but she had only tolerated his attentions.

Jack lay there, trying to think of a man who could love
his daughter for the woman she was, one who was strong
enough to keep up with her, and who had money.

Time was of the essence.

Jack knew that if he died before he got Casey married,
she would be left penniless. He realized, too, that convincing her to marry was not going to be easy. He just
hoped that once he explained that her marriage would
save the ranch, she would go along with it.

All he had to do was find the right man.

A great weariness overcame Jack.

He closed his eyes.

"Your father is doing as well as can be expected, Casey,
but his condition is serious," Dr. Murray told her quietly
as he sat with her in the parlor. "It's his heart."

Casey was still in shock from what had happened.
When she'd returned from the stable and found her father
unconscious on the floor in the parlor, his coloring had
been so ashen, she'd feared he was dead.

"He's going to live, isn't he?" she asked, voicing the
question that was haunting her.

"Yes," he answered, keeping Jack's confidence.

"Thank God." Tears of relief welled up in her eyes. She
couldn't imagine life without her father.

"Now, I've told him to take it easy for a while, and I
want you to make sure he rests up."

"I will."

"Good. I'll come back in a few days to make sure he's
doing all right."

She showed him out of the house. "Thank you, Dr. Murray."

As Dr. Murray got in his carriage and started back toward Hard Luck, he thought the town's name was all too
apt. A lot of bad things had been happening to good people. First, Frank Donovan had been shot, and now Jack
Turner with his bad heart... He'd heard, too, that Ron
Maguire had sold out and left the area. Things were
changing, and he wasn't sure they were changing for the
better.

Casey went to her fathers room to check on him. He was
sleeping peacefully and there was some color in his face
now. She breathed a sigh of relief as she settled into a
chair beside the bed. She planned to spend the night
there, just in case he awoke and needed her.

When Jack awoke early the following morning, he found
Casey asleep in the chair beside the bed. He took a moment to study her as she slept on, admiring the soft curve
of her cheek and her flawless complexion. Her hair was
a tumble of untamed curls untamed just like she was,
he thought, and his smile was bittersweet.