Suspicions of the Heart (17 page)

It wasn't his problem. He ought to stay
out of the entire mess. She didn't welcome his help. He knew that,
too. But she was in trouble, real trouble. And somehow, he had to
help her.

"Well, Cherokee, if she'd sell, her
troubles would be over," Joe said aloud to his horse as though the
bay could understand him.

He led the gelding from the stable and
was about to mount when Roscoe and Fargate drove up in a cloud of
dust. Joe watched them, sizing them up as they approached him. He
knew Roscoe, just like he knew Candy. They weren't strangers, even
though she was doing her best to be.

Born too late, Roscoe didn't belong to
this generation of people, Joe surmised. He was simply too honest.
Typically, he was the kind of man Joe usually hired on to work his
place, the only kind. In the last three years he hadn't fired a
single ranch hand.

Fargate, however, was a different
story. Not an easy man to read, maybe on the outside. A
well-educated man had a tongue like a con-artist, and a heart like
a stone. Quality yes, some, but Joe wasn't sure Fargate had ever
recognized it himself.

No doubt about it, Fargate catered to
the ladies, and they catered to him. He had those refined manners,
good looks, and he also had Candy eating out of his hand. How the
two of them could have ever married was beyond
comprehension.

"What in tarnation is going on, Joe? We
just came from our place, and the trailer is gone," Roscoe
yelped.

Joe handed the reins to Sam who had
second-guessed his boss' intentions again.

"Did you get my message?"

Roscoe nodded.

"That's about all I know. I went over
to Candy's this afternoon and the trailer was gone.
Stolen…"

Fargate pushed his way towards Joe.
"Stolen? But who would want that broken down excuse for a trailer,
Joe?"

Roscoe eyed the two of them, and then
raised an angry brow at Fargate. "Better not let Candy hear you say
that. She's kinda partial to it."

Joe adjusted his hat. "You know I don't
think they were after the trailer. I think someone just wants to
push her off that land. Bad enough to put a scare into her, and
unless I've misjudged her, they are going about it all
wrong."

Roscoe chuckled, the humor missing from
his smile. "You've got her pegged right. She's as stubborn as a
mule."

"Where is she?" Fargate
asked.

"Inside. Why don't the two of you make
yourselves to home? Roscoe, you can bunk across the hall from
Fargate. We'll work something out later."

Roscoe nodded and started toward the
house, but Fargate lingered. "I told her she should have sold
out."

As though something just occurred to
him, Roscoe turned to Joe. "You know, I don't think either of us
has stopped long enough to thank you proper for all you've done. I
brought Candy up better than that. But she's a high-strung little
filly. Give her time, she'll come around. She was raised with
manners."

Joe's expression changed to
understanding and he nodded. "It's not necessary."

After a few awkward moments, Joe asked
very quietly, "So, what happened to her mother, Roscoe?"

Roscoe bent his head. "She never
completely recovered from childbirth for one thing. Then she took
sick. She had a bad heart. The doctors kept telling her she
shouldn't even think of getting pregnant, but Jolene wouldn't
listen to them. Candy was a little thing when she died. Hank and I
had to see to her. Well, mostly me. Hank took to drinking a lot
after Jolene died. We didn't know much about raisin' a girl. But we
tried. I'm afraid we taught her more about being a man than a
woman. I expect she's a little wet behind the ears when it comes to
that."

That was laughable, Joe thought to
himself. Candy Arnold was more woman than Joe had ever tried to
handle. God, he could still feel the softness of her lips on his,
the eagerness of her young body straining toward him. No, Candy was
all woman. But something or someone had scared her somewhere down
the line. She shied from men like they were rattlers.

"Don't apologize for her, Roscoe, it
isn't necessary." Joe curtailed the broad smile on his lips, not
wanting Roscoe to read too much into it.

"That's mighty big of you, Joe. I know
she's given you a hard time." Roscoe removed his hat and scratched
the back of his head, ruffling his hair in the process. "Staying
here would sure make things simpler for awhile. I just turned a
small herd loose and got a good price for them, too."

"I told you, didn't I?" Joe winked.
"Make yourselves to home. I've got to be getting out to the
pasture. The Doc's here and his wife gives him some trouble if he's
late for supper."

"Sure thing, Joe, and thanks. Come on,
Fargate, let's get washed up and see what we can rustle up for
supper." Roscoe smiled, giving the other man a quick glance. "You
know, in time you might make a tolerable cowboy."

Fargate chuckled, but from his
expression it was obvious he wasn't impressed with that
idea.

~*~

Joe needed some open space. His mind
was too cluttered with people. He liked feeling the wind in his
face, and the smell of cattle moving about. It didn't take him long
to find the Doc working along the north range. As he approached, he
made mental notes of the herd's needs.

"Joe," Doc Mead called him over. "We
got a problem with old Nell. She's in calf, and she's getting too
old for that. I thought I told you not to let her in with the bull
this year."

"I didn't let her, Doc. It was all her
idea." Joe smiled. He ran a fretful hand through his hair, then
slowly returned his hat to its rightful position. "Ever seen a
cross between a Swiss and a Mexican Longhorn, Doc?"

"Good grief, is that what we've got?"
Doc Mead frowned.

"'Fraid so. I put Ole Nell out to
pasture, but she kept bellowing, so we brought her to the house and
used her as a milk cow. She still gives a lot of milk, considering
her age and all. I figured she would give up on any pastime
activity. She never took to grazing with the herd though. She was
too spoiled."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, son,
but you are about to lose her."

Joe's smile faded. "Can't you do
anything?"

"It's totally out of my hands. We'll
have to turn the calf, make her as comfortable as possible. She's
gonna have a bad night, I'm afraid."

Joe nodded and watched silently as the
Doc stowed his gear in his jeep wagon.

~*~

It was well after dark when Joe finally
returned to the ranch house, a grimness settled on his face. He
found Roscoe and Fargate in the backyard. There wasn't a sign of
Candy and he wasn't about to ask. With his hands in his pockets he
joined them, forcing a smile. Roscoe had a fire going in the
barbecue and Fargate was gathering the makings for hamburgers. Joe
talked with them for a few minutes then excused himself to
cleanup.

As he passed the den he spotted Candy
asleep in the recliner. Something drew him to her, unwillingly. She
was lovely, even with dirt smeared face. Desire welled inside him,
pulsing like a white-hot branding iron, leaving a dull ache in his
loins. If he had his way, he'd pick her up and carry her to bed,
before he had time to think about what he was doing. He could kiss
away the hurts if she'd let him. But that was the problem. He was
about the last person on earth she wanted. Besides, her ex-husband
hung around her like a pesky fly. Candy obviously had feelings for
the man, or she'd get rid of him.

Joe forced himself to walk away from
temptation. Boy, he was certainly no Fargate! He laid his hat on
the counter, combed his hair and shook his head. He was dirty,
sweaty, and a little worse for wear. Better get that lady off your
mind, he reprimanded himself.

For all the good it did him.

He took a blanket into the den, and
propped her feet up, then covered her. A strange sensation
overwhelmed him. He liked taking care of her. As long as she didn't
know he was doing it. Once he satisfied himself that he had made
her comfortable, he joined the men outside.

Fargate had everything organized and
gave a big smile when Joe walked up behind him to watch. "I told
Roscoe you were in the habit of making things yourself around here.
So,we decided to fix supper."

"Looks like you found everything." Joe
chuckled feeling strangely out of place.

"Candy's sacked out in the den. I
didn't have the heart to wake her." Roscoe glanced up at Joe as he
neared the barbecue pit.

"Yeah, I know. I covered her with a
blanket might as well let her get some rest. She probably needs it
more than food right now."

"Where'd you find her?" Roscoe asked as
he dished up the first batch of hamburgers.

"In front of the lean-to."

"Where had she been?" Fargate quizzed
as he continued to chop the vegetables.

"Over at my aunt Aggie's."

"Aggie's?"

Roscoe chuckled and nodded. "So, they
finally met. I was wondering how long it would take. At least she
wasn't around when the trailer was taken."

"That was fortunate. You know it might
be a good idea if someone kept an eye on her. This is beginning to
look more serious than we expected. Since she's on my property, I
feel responsible." Joe glanced at Roscoe.

"Sounds like a good idea, just don't
let her find out. She'll scream bloody murder if you do," Roscoe
agreed, biting into the first burger.

"Personally, I think she should sell
the damn land and move into town." Fargate entered the
conversation.

"Have you told her that?" Joe asked,
trying not to sound angry.

"I told her that in the beginning. In
fact, I was the one who told her you wanted to buy her land. It
seemed to shock her. Another firm was interested but she didn't
give them a second thought."

Joe's face tightened. "No, I don't
suppose she would. But you've got to respect her feelings about
this, Fargate. It is her land. I kinda admire her for not letting
anyone push her off."

Fargate found a lawn chair and sat
down, but cocked his head. "You mean you're no longer interested in
buying the land?"

Joe took his plate, and sat on the
grass lawn. "I'm as interested as ever. But she isn't."

"Off the record, what did you want the
land for?" Fargate prompted, taking a bite out of his
burger.

Joe didn't bother to stifle the stiff
laughter. "Off the record?"

Fargate reddened. "I'm sorry. I'm
afraid the lawyer comes out in me more often than I'd
like."

No one seemed upset by his poor choice
of words, but Joe scrutinized him, holding his attention. "It's
perfect for Longhorns. They need good scrub. And I'd bring that
water up if I had to dig for the rest of my life to get
it."

"Water?" Fargate looked
shocked.

"Water," Joe mused silently.

"I thought everyone wanted the
gas."

Now everyone was staring at Fargate.
"Everyone being the big energy companies?"

"Well, yes."

"People around these parts put more
stock in the water, than the gas," Joe informed him.

"But any natural gas means energy for
the country, not just a handful of people."

Joe let Roscoe and Fargate go round and
round about the importance of both natural resources. After he
inhaled a burger, he joined in. "What it all boils down to,
Fargate, is that gas would benefit the country as a whole, in a
small way. The water would benefit the state in an enormous
way."

"So, you're putting the importance on
the water. But the water that would mean drilling forever to get
to."

"That's right. This isn't a local
secret, Fargate. And I don't know if Candy realizes the danger she
might be in."

"How'd the state get in on
this?"

Joe shot him an indulgent look. He
couldn't be that dumb. No, Fargate was playing games with them
trying to feel them out about the situation. But why?

Joe's indulgent look only seemed to
infuriate Fargate further. "Let's just say some very important
people are aware of it."

"Then Candy really is in danger? I'm
going to advise her to sell out immediately, then." Fargate shook
his head in anger.

Roscoe eyed him. "Advise all you want,
but 'til that little gal gets it set in her head to sell, she
won't."

"Then we should put some official
security around her," Fargate announced as though he were the first
to think of it.

Joe went to get another hamburger.
"Best burgers I've had in a long time. But unfortunately, I've got
a sick cow to tend to. The TV's in the den, and Fargate can show
you your room, Roscoe. I'll be in the barn if anyone needs
me."

Roscoe nodded.

"Not exactly a 9 to 5 job is
it?"

"'Fraid not. But I don't want you
getting the wrong idea about us out here. We do know how to kick up
our heels occasionally. When things calm down we'll all go over to
Jim Ed's."