High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (17 page)

William knew how to pick them.

“Really, Tom.” His wife’s quiet but strident voice made him jump a little. “Must you gawk at the girl so? It’s embarrassing.”

Tom turned to her with a snort, making sure to keep a false smile on his face. They must keep up appearances. “Really, Vanessa,” he mimicked her, “the way you have been throwing yourself at every man in the room tonight, I would think that my looking at another woman wouldn’t cause you to worry about your reputation. Any damage that could be done has already been inflicted by you.” He patted her cheek gently, as though the quiet words he spoke were tender endearments, but he couldn’t keep the spark from his eyes that told her maybe she had gone too far this time.

Her tone changed immediately. “Oh, Tom, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you still cared so much. Why, you’re jealous!” She smiled coyly up into his face, placing one hand across her breast. “That positively makes my heart flutter. We really need to get away. It’s all the pressure of this city living. We don’t have time to spend together anymore. You know what we need? We need to spend some time at our place in the country. We can go just to spend time with each other. Maybe next time you need to go to your Prineville bank. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She tucked her arm possessively through his.

Tom eyed her, wondering. Some of the anger left his eyes as he looked down on her. Had she meant what she said? He could hope so. Yet he often wondered whether she stayed with him because she loved him or his money. It wasn’t the first time she had made the comment about getting away to their place in the country. Yet she rarely came with him when he visited their 30,000-acre ranch, managed by Ted Koerling near Prineville. Thinking of his ranch caused his mind to wander to William, and he glanced at his pocket watch.

He still had some time.

He glanced back into his wife’s emerald eyes. He knew Vanessa loved to flirt. It gave her existence meaning.

There had been a time when she had suffered from deep depression. She had even tried taking her own life once, but he had been there to stop the flow of blood. He gave an involuntary shudder as he remembered the deep red in the bottom of the claw-foot tub upstairs. He had been shocked. Hadn’t he given his young wife everything she asked for? Yet he had come home to find her leaning against the tub, both wrists slit, and a trail of blood leading from the knife on the floor beside her, up into the white bath. He had staunched the blood and pulled her fiercely into his arms, begging her never to do that to him again. It was soon after that she had begun her little games.

For a time he had ignored her debauched sport as it had seemed to renew her vigor for life. After all, she kept him happy, too. Without him, there would be no money for her little parties, and without her parties there would be no men to toy with. Vanessa was walking on a fence. Below her were a pack of hungry wolves, each wanting her to please them. And she loved every minute of being the center of attention, dangerous though it might be.

It wasn’t until recently that Tom had realized how much Vanessa’s little game had hurt their relationship. Yet he was still trying to please her. If it weren’t for her, he would care nothing about ranching in the high desert of central Oregon. He was a banker, not a rancher. But Vanessa liked to brag to her friends about their property in the country. He kept it for her, to keep her happy. Insurance that she wouldn’t try to...leave him again.

He glanced at his watch once more and patted Vanessa’s hand resting on the crook of his arm. “I have a meeting I need to see to, dear. We may take that trip to the country before you know it.”

“Really?” Her eyes sparked with interest. “Oh, Tom, that would be so nice. It really would.” A glint of mischief flickered in her green eyes, and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I’ll bid the guests farewell and then be waiting for you in my room.” Her breath wafted warm on his ear, and Tom’s body heated with the remembrance of why he cared. At times she really could be very pleasing.

10

His office felt a trifle chilly, but Tom didn’t build a fire in the fireplace. He only had a couple of things to discuss with William. Their meeting would be brief. Pulling his watch from his vest pocket, he examined it. Five after eleven. William was late.

Just then, a tap sounded on the door, and William stepped into the room. He was out of breath. Inhaling deeply, he shook his head as he glanced at Tom, a slight twinkle in his eye. “You give a woman one dance, and she thinks she can claim you for them all!”

Tom chuckled dryly. “Had a hard time getting away from Miss Stubben, did you?”

William nodded in exasperation.

“Well, I trust it wasn’t too unpleasant for you.”

“I’ll live to see another day.” William made an hour-glass gesture in the air, rolling his eyes in pleasure.

Tom’s laugh was hearty this time. “I’ll just bet you will!”

William sat in the leather wingback chair across from Tom’s desk and crossed one ankle over the other. “So, what did you want to see me about?”

Tom glanced at the door to make sure it was shut before lighting himself a cigar and extending the box toward William.

William shook his head. “No thanks.”

Tom took several puffs on his cigar, then propped his boots on the corner of his mahogany desk. Reaching into the top drawer, he withdrew a paper and shoved it toward William across the desktop.

William eyed the paper for a beat, then leaned forward and picked it up. After a moment he blinked up at Tom in surprise. “You’re not serious.”

Tom had never been more so. He did not reply, only took a pull on his cigar and watched William’s face through the cloud of haze.

William glanced again at the paper in his hands. It was a plot map of Crook County. It showed all the sections of land in the county and who owned what. Outlined in the center of the county was not only the five-thousand-acre spread of the Hanging T but also many other spreads around it, large and small.

He looked up at Tom. “And what did these others do to deserve the eye of the Association?”

Tom shrugged. “The Jeffries fellow was talking about going into sheep the other day. We all know how sheep graze the grass to the dirt, leaving nothing to grow back.”

“And the Snows?”

Tom tapped his cigar against the ash tray. “He’s a friend of Rolf Jeffries.

Besides, he’s running sheep already. We have to give them some incentive to try their operations somewhere else.”

As William stared in rapacious incredulity at the paper in his hands, he realized that greed, like a stray dog once fed, had come back for more. Even as he looked at the properties, he realized this plan must have been laid well ahead of time for almost all the owners of the properties indicated, for one reason or another, owed Tom’s bank money. It irked him that The Association often made decisions without consulting him, but that was the price he’d known he would pay even before he was accepted onto the board. He wouldn’t even be a member were it not for Tom. But because of his past and what Tom knew, he was a member. The lowest one.

Shoving aside his irritation, he glanced up, caught Tom’s eye, and allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. His day would come, and then they would all be sorry they hadn’t treated him with a little more respect. Especially Tom. William hated doing another man’s dirty work. “Same deal as before? Equal shares for all?”

Tom nodded. “The Association has agreed.”

William sat up straight and stared down at the paper in his hands once more. “We might be biting off more than we can chew.”

Tom stubbed his cigar out. “We never have.”

William scratched the back of his head in a sudden quandary. He wanted his share of the land represented before him. His ranch was meager compared to some of the ranches in the valley, and he could certainly use the boost in income. Yet he was afraid that if they scared too many people off their land it would become quite obvious what they were up to. He had no desire to spend the last minutes of his life with the scratchy feel of a hemp rope around his neck.

But if the plot map in his hands was correct, he would stand to receive at least twenty-five-hundred acres more. That was not counting the lush acres he would get when Nicki finally decided that she should quit her ranch—her ranch with the only easy access to the Deschutes River for miles along the canyon. His cattle wouldn’t lose so much weight traveling to water then. Fatter cattle meant better prices at market, and better prices meant he would reach his goals that much sooner.

He stared at a spot on the floor, seeing acres and acres in his mind’s eye. All of them lush and green, dotted with thousands of fat, well-watered cattle. Twenty-five-hundred acres were to be his from the small-time settlers they had previously discussed, twenty-five hundred of Nicki’s acres would be his when she married him, and now twenty-five hundred more from this new proposal. Seven-thousand-five-hundred acres in total! Added to his own three-thousand acres, that would make quite a sizable ranch. He would be that much closer to his aspiration. The one thing that grated on him was that he got stuck with all the grunt work.

He glanced at Tom.

Tom’s mouth twitched.

“All right, I’ll do it.”

“I thought you would. The Association has agreed to make it worth your while, in addition to your share of the land.” He tossed a heavy bag of coins on the desk in William’s direction. Tom stubbed out the end of his cigar in the crystal ashtray before him. “You’ll have to start slow. And every place will have to be done different.”

William nodded.

“Well then, I’ll see you next time you’re in town.”

Acknowledging his dismissal, William stood, picking up the bag of good fortune. He would have done it even without the money. “I best be going anyway. I promised Miss Stubben I’d walk her home.” He tossed Tom a lewd wink.

“William.”

The hardness in Tom’s tone froze William in his trek toward the garden door and he turned with raised brow to see what the older man wanted.

“Marry that woman or finish her. Either way The Stockman’s Association wants her off that land with the insurance of silence.”

William contemplated the statement, knowing that Tom was not referring to the pretty Miss Stubben. “I don’t think she knows anything, but I’m working on it. She was ready to quit when I delivered your telegram to her, but she has a new hand working for her now. He changed her mind, I think.”

“Well then, maybe he should be dealt with first.” Tom dropped the words like a boulder falling from a cliff-top, but his air was casual, his feet still propped on the corner of his desk, his cigar held lightly in one hand.

William stared at him for a moment. Then, turning with a thoughtful air, he walked toward the door leading into the garden and, with a casual lift of his hand, stepped out into the darkness. He was already taking care of that, but Tom didn’t need to know everything.

Standing well back from any light, he turned to study Tom. With a curl of smoke drifting from his mouth toward the ceiling, Tom crumpled the plot map, placed it in his ash tray, held his lighter to it, and watched it disintegrate into a pile of ash. William clenched his teeth. The day would come when Tom would regret lording it over him. He would make sure of that.

But that would come another day. Now he had other plans to carry out. He jingled the heavy weight of the coins in the pouch. Yes indeed, he had plans to take care of Nicki’s new hand, and this money would come in handy.

William rode straight for Nicki’s spread when he got back, silently cursing the wiggling mutt that lay across the saddle in front of him. After Tom’s ultimatum, he had decided that marrying Nicki was infinitely more appealing—and challenging—than simply eliminating her. He had known that for a long time but couldn’t seem to get through to her. Now it was imperative that she come around or she was going to have to be taken out of the picture. He didn’t want that. He wanted the satisfaction that would come when he convinced her that she needed him now that John was gone. So he had decided that he would make it impossible for her to refuse his proposal. He would woo her heart. And what better way to the heart of a woman than through her child? Sawyer was going to love this ugly mutt. He hoped. And Nicki would be one step closer to agreeing to marry him.

The puppy yipped, startling his horse into a sidestep, and he cuffed it hard across the head. “Shut up, you stupid mongrel!”

It whimpered, cowering and scrambling to get away from him. He smacked it again. “STAY!”

He pulled his horse to a stop just before he topped the hill that would lead down to the Hanging T. Rubbing a hand across his face, he made an effort to compose his features. He had to get a hold of his emotions before he saw Nicki. He didn’t want her seeing the stress he was under.

He sighed. Tom Roland might be the death of him yet. Why had he ever let the man blackmail him into this deal? If he had just copped to that bank robbery, he would have been done with his time by now and free to live as he chose. But no. He had let Roland control his life instead.

Stealing people’s land was a dangerous business, but what else was he to do? If he refused now, he was too big a liability for Roland, and his life would be over…literally. While he was sure he could take Roland in a head-to-head fight, he knew Roland wouldn’t play fair, and he didn’t want to live out the rest of his days looking over his shoulder.