Summer Breeze (28 page)

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Authors: Catherine Anderson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Summer Breeze
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"I take it back. You do know your verse," she conceded.

Joseph let loose with a gloating chuckle. "Got you whupped, don't I? I know more rhymes than you do." "You most certainly do
not"
She launched into several more rhymes from childhood, and then she treated him to some lovely, far more serious poems by famous poets.

"I take it back," he conceded. "I'm flat outclassed. But, hey, book learning isn't the only kind of knowledge that comes in handy. I know a whole passel of things you'll never learn from a book."

"Such as?" she challenged. "Never squat with your spurs on." She burst out laughing. Joseph imagined how she might look, throwing her head back and squeezing her eyes closed with mirth.

His lips curved in a pleased smile. Damn, but he loved to make the lady laugh.

"What other tidbits of wisdom are floating around in your brain, Joseph Paxton?"

"Some ranchers raise pigs, and some will even admit it. But either way, they're raisin' pigs."

She groaned. "I do not raise pigs. I just have a few kitchen hams and several sides of bacon fattening up in my pigpen. Surely you have something more impressive than that tucked away in your mind." "Never smack a man when he's chewin' tobacco." She snorted. "Either that, or be smart enough to duck. What else?"

"Never ask a barber if you need a haircut." "Hmph. I can tell that you haven't asked that question in a while."

"You making derogatory comments about my hair, woman?"

"No, sir, I like your hair fine. I was just making an observation."

"Never follow good whiskey with water unless you're out of good whiskey," he tried.

"So far, I am not unduly impressed with your store of knowledge."

Joseph thought for a moment. "About the time you get to thinkin' you're a person of some influence, try orderin' someone else's dog around."

"Oh, puh-lease. Surely you've got something better than
that"

"If you're gonna take the measure of a man, take his full measure," Joseph retorted.

"I'm trying. But so far, I haven't seen a whole lot to measure."

Joseph grinned. He loved that she was plainspoken. When he stuck his foot in his mouth, she'd be likely to understand, at least. "Here's one for you to pay attention to, darlin'. If you're gonna speak your mind, be sure you're ridin' a fast horse."

She giggled again. And so it went. Joseph kept a sharp eye on the door. Over the course of what remained of the morning, the crack widened just a bit.

Miss Rachel was glimpsing a ribbon of sunshine for the first time in five years. Joseph had Bubba White to thank for that. The next time a heifer died at Eden, he'd present the beef to the blacksmith and his family to express his gratitude.

It wasn't often that a forge and anvil could make a miracle happen.

Because he had promised David that he would ride with him over to the Pritchard place that afternoon, Joseph postponed eating lunch until the new archway door was completed. He had just finished sanding the extra-thick planks when Ace showed up to stand guard duty.

"Howdy, big brother!" Joseph called. "You got a strong shoulder I can borrow? I'll need help carrying this thing into the house."

Ace swung down off Shakespeare and sauntered over to peruse the door. "Jumpin' Jehoshaphat.

You're never going to fit that thing through the window, Joseph."

"Don't have to. We can take it in through the front door."

Ace rolled up his shirtsleeves. "That's one thick mother. It's a door for a fortress."

"It is, at that." Joseph hooked a thumb at the back door. "Rachel needs barricades, not doors. I figure this will make her feel plenty safe."

"How much protection does she need?"

Not so long ago, Joseph had asked himself the same question. Now he simply accepted and no longer tried to make sense of it.

Once they got the door hefted up onto their shoulders, the two men grunted, huffed, and puffed their way around to the front of the house, whereupon the stout creation had to be lowered to the ground while Joseph used his key to unlock the ironwork that now covered the front entrance.

"I think I've ruptured a gut," Ace said.

Joseph chuckled. "That's a gambler for you. Never turned your hand to hard work."

Ace snorted. "If it weren't for my gambling, you would have starved to death as a young pup."

"That I would have. No aspersions upon your efforts to feed me intended. I was just teasing you."

Once the entrance was opened, they carried the door into the vestibule. Ace kicked the interior door closed behind him, and Joseph called that good enough until they had carried their burden to the dining room. What Rachel didn't know wouldn't hurt her, and he'd be back to lock up soon.

Rachel nearly jumped out of her skin when a deafening crash sounded in the dining room and vibrations rolled through the kitchen floor. She whirled to stare at the archway.

"Rachel?" Joseph called. "Don't shoot us, darlin'. It's just me and Ace with your new barricade.

Time to open up. I need to install it."

Rachel had a bad moment. What would she have for a barricade while the installation took place?

Nothing, she guessed, and the very thought sent her heart racing. She nevertheless gathered her courage and lifted the bar, opened the interior door, and quickly unlocked the ironwork. Then she scurried away to the water closet.

She'd no sooner moved the broken door to cover the doorway than Joseph said, "Honey, you're perfectly safe. Ace is even faster with a gun than I am. Like we'd let anyone get into the kitchen?"

Rachel inched the door to one side so she could

peer out. The two men were already lifting her new barricade into position, and the sight of it calmed her. It was at least four inches thick, so heavy that both Joseph and Ace strained to maneuver it. "My goodness, Joseph, it's
lovely"

The comment set Ace to laughing. "Lovely? This door is stout, but that's about all I can say for it."

"What are you saying, that my handiwork is lacking?" Joseph asked.

Soon the men were volleying teasing remarks back and forth, their deep chuckles and laughter filling the kitchen. Their jocularity soothed Rachel's nerves enough that she was able to leave the water closet.

"There she is," Joseph called over his shoulder. "Slipping out to see the finished product. Almost up, darlin'. I just hope you don't bust a gut opening and closing the damned thing. It's heavy, and that's a fact."

Rachel stepped closer to admire her new door. It was three and a half planks wide and every bit as stalwart as the porch door that Darby had fashioned for her years ago. "Oh, Joseph, such a lot of work. You shouldn't have."

"Just took some elbow grease," Joseph assured her, "and I'm used to that. It felt kind of good to break a sweat, actually. I'm used to going from morning 'til night."

While the two finished tightening hinge screws and shaving the door to fit, Rachel fixed lunch.

When the door had been installed, she welcomed to her table the third guest in less than a week, and in the doing, she marveled at how Joseph's presence in the house had so greatly changed her life. Only a short time ago,

she couldn't have imagined having even one visitor. Now guests in her kitchen were becoming a common occurrence.

"Caitlin's coming later," Ace said around a mouthful of salt pork sandwich. "She couldn't leave until Little Ace woke up from his midmorning nap. She's probably driving over now."

Rachel's heart lifted. "I will be glad to have her."

"She's bringing a bunch of fashion stuff. Recent periodicals with all the latest nonsense in them."

Rachel's heart soared again. She'd had no need to follow fashion, living as she did, and she no longer had any idea what might be in vogue. But a part of her still yearned to look pretty, regardless. Especially now, with Joseph around. She wanted him to— She aborted the notion, horrified at the train of her thoughts. She wanted him to want her.

Joseph caught her eye and gave her a quick wink. "Fabulous lunch, Rachel. You have magic in your fingertips."

Recalling how she felt every time he touched her, she thought it was Joseph who had the magic touch.

"It
is
good," Ace seconded. "Thank you for inviting me to eat."

"Feeding you is the least I can do," Rachel said, collecting her thoughts and forcing them to more practical matters. And as she spoke, she realized that she sincerely meant it. Ace had spent more afternoons at her house recently than he'd spent at his own, and she knew he had a ranch to run.

He was also operating minus Esa, one of his full-time hands. "I deeply appreciate all the time you've taken away from your work to be here. Thank you so much."

"Hear that?" Ace gave his brother an arch look. "Some people
appreciate
me and have the good manners to say thank you."

Joseph swallowed and grinned. "What have you done that I should thank you for?"

"I helped carry in the door and install it."

"Oh, that." Joseph shrugged and took another bite of sandwich. "If I were to thank you for every little thing, you might get a big head and start expecting it. That wouldn't do."

Ace turned laughing brown eyes on Rachel. "Do you see what I have to put up with? I think I raised them wrong. Should have kicked their butts more often, I reckon."

Joseph flashed a broad grin and winked at Rachel. "Too late to correct the mistake now, big brother. Nowadays, I kick back."

Ace's expression turned suddenly serious. "You and David going back over to Pritchard's today?"

Joseph sat back on his chair. Not for the first time, Rachel noted how different the two brothers were, one with jet-black hair and brown eyes, the other blond and blue eyed.

"Pritchard's place will be one of our stops," Joseph replied.

Ace wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin on his plate. "You boys be careful. Jeb Pritchard's not just mean; he's crazy, to boot."

Joseph smiled. "We'll be fine, big brother. We were trained up by one of the best."

"Jesus!"

Joseph dived for cover, praying as he hit the dirt that David had bailed off his horse just as quickly as he had. Jeb Pritchard was shooting at them. Even as the realization registered in Joseph's brain, another bullet plowed into the dirt right in front of his nose. No shotgun today.

The son of a bitch had a rifle.

"You okay?" David called from behind a rock.

Joseph kept his head low, using a bush to hide himself. "I'm fine," he yelled back. "But I need more than this for cover." He scrambled sideways to get behind a log. When he felt halfway protected, he drew his Colt, wishing like hell that he had his rifle. No such luck. The weapon was still in the saddle boot, and Obie, being the intelligent animal he was, had galloped away to hide behind some trees. "What's that man's problem?"

Just as Joseph posed the question, Jeb hollered, "You ain't been invited onto my property, you cocky bastards. Until you are, I'll shoot every time I see your faces!"

David sent Joseph a bewildered look. "What's gotten into him? I'm the law, for God's sake. He can't just open fire on the law."

"Looks to me like he's doing just that." Joseph brushed dirt from his eyes. "Means business, too.

He's not good enough to place his slug an inch from my nose just to scare hell out of me. I think the ornery old bastard just missed."

David checked his weapon for bullets.

"Why bother?" Joseph called. "He's out of range."

"Damn it," David bit out. "I need my Winchester."

"It's long gone. The horses are off behind the trees."

A bullet hit the rock where David was hiding, the lead making a
ker-chunk
as it sent up a spray of granite. David sank lower to the ground. "Damned horses are smarter than we are."

"I think you're right," Joseph bit out. "Let's pull foot. I don't know about you, but I'm not looking to die today."

"You think we can make it to the trees?"

"If we stay on our bellies and keep our heads down." Crawling away went against Joseph's grain.

But, he rationalized, it was better to crawl and live to see another sunrise than take a slug between the eyes. "You ready?"

As Joseph slithered away from the log, Pritchard opened fire again. Geysers of dirt and pine needles shot up all around him. He picked up speed, pushing hard with his feet, grabbing earth with his hands, praying with every inch of ground he covered that his brother hadn't been hit.

When they reached the trees and relative safety, the two men pushed up onto their knees. The instant they came erect, another shot rang out, and David's Stetson went spinning away.

"Holy shit!" they yelled simultaneously and hit the dirt again.

A few seconds later, when they'd crawled beyond the reach of Jeb's bullets, David looked back at his hat. His blue eyes blazed. "That miserable sack of shit came within an inch of blowing my brains out. Now

I'll have to buy a new Stetson. You got any idea how much those things cost?"

It had been a spell since Joseph had purchased a hat. "No, how much?"

"A small fortune, that's what." David brushed dirt and pine needles from his hair. "He'll pay. Now I've got reason to arrest the son of a bitch. He tried to kill a lawman. That's a serious offense!"

Joseph gazed through the trees at Pritchard's shack. "You're gonna need help to take that ornery polecat in."

Silence. Joseph looked back at his brother. David was eyeing him expectantly.

Joseph held up his hands. "Do you think I'm crazy? No way, son. You need a posse."

"And who will I deputize, a bunch of farmers who can't shoot their way out of a flour sack?"

Joseph sighed. "I had plans for later this afternoon."

"Your plans just changed."

Chapter Fourteen

Jeb Pritchard stank up the whole jail and raised so much sand about being locked up that David threatened to shoot him to make him be quiet. Billy Joe Roberts, David's lanky young deputy, was as excited as a kid at Christmas to have an actual criminal in one of the cells.

"You reckon the Pritchard boys will try to break him out?" Billy Joe asked David.

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