Texas Brides Collection (58 page)

Anne could barely hear Preacher Rollins for the snoring behind her. A quick glance told her it was Colt Wilson. Later she’d tell him what she thought of desecrating the Lord’s day by sleeping in church. Heathen. She must have been touched in the head to hire him on the spot last week.

But that day she had no choice after firing Hank and Thomas for pulling their guns on Clancy and Thatcher Lee. The two had been caught red-handed cutting a few head of cattle from the herd. Since then, the other hands tried to keep up with the work, but it was nearly impossible. A week later and ten more longhorns were missing. She’d filed a report with the sheriff, but the man had laziness written across the seat of his pants and a nagging wife that wanted him at home.

Hank and Thomas held their own with a gun, and the thought frightened her a bit—not for herself, but for the girls and the other men. Anne blinked. Surely Colt wasn’t working with them on this. He’d known Will, but Hank and Thomas had never met her dearly departed husband. Colt’s riding in must have been a coincidence. Anne didn’t believe in coincidences any more than she did in fairytales. God must have purposed Colt Wilson to arrive at the exact time. He looked like neither an angel nor a saint—and he didn’t snore like anything heavenly, either. Why God might have brought him into her life was beyond her thinking.

This morning when Anne caught sight of Colt all cleaned up, he looked right handsome. And he did have those big gray eyes with flecks of gold…and eyelashes a girl ought to have. Too bad he was an outlaw, and most likely he wasn’t worth the lead to send him to kingdom come.

She inwardly scolded her wandering thoughts and focused on the preacher. God knew how she felt about all this, and He’d handle it. But, oh, how she wanted to take off after those two cattle thieves herself.

Colt sprang from his bunk. Rifle fire cracked a second time. In the dark, he grabbed his pants and rifle then tore through the bunkhouse with Thatcher Lee right behind him. In the light of a full moon and a sky filled with stars, Clancy leaned against the side of the bunkhouse, fully dressed. Before him stood Sammie Jo.

“What are you shooting at this time of the night?” Clancy asked. “You could have been killed by one of us.”

“I got him.” Sammie Jo’s voice rose in the stillness. She held up the tail of a coyote. “He won’t be stealing any more of our chickens.”

“Well, I reckon you did.” Clancy laughed.

“Rosita was carrying on something awful yesterday with another hen gone.”

The excitement in Sammie Jo caused Colt to burst out laughing. The Langley women never ceased to amaze him.

“You hightail it back to bed, and I’ll get rid of that coyote,” Clancy said.

“I want him skinned.”

“Sure thing. You and I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Can we make a hat?”

“I suppose. Now get going before your mama finds you missing.”

Sammie Jo gave the old man a hug and raced toward the main house, but Thatcher Lee caught up with her. Colt watched them disappear into the darkness. That gal acted just like her mama.

“I’ll never understand women,” he said in the stillness.

“You mean Sammie Jo or Anne?” Clancy asked.

Colt shrugged. “Neither one of them is like any woman I ever knew. I never had sisters, and my ma acted…well, normal.”

“She hasn’t always been this way,” Clancy said. He studied Colt. “I hear you knew Will.”

“We had some business together.”

“You best keep that business to yourself. Anne doesn’t need to hear any of it.”

“I figured so.”

Colt gazed out into the night, as though staring after Thatcher Lee and Sammie Jo. His thoughts narrowed in on what Clancy must know about Will, and what the boss lady didn’t know.

“How fast are you with a gun?” Clancy asked.

“Fair. I prefer a rifle.”

“Stick around here until a few matters are settled. Anne’s going to need all the help she can get.”

“Trouble? What kind?” Colt asked. An image of Huntsville settled on him like a bad case of the backdoor runs.

“The kind that can get a body killed. I buried Will, and I don’t plan to bury her or them girls.” Clancy released a heavy sigh. “She may look and act tough, but that’s a cover for something else. And”—he turned and stared at Colt face-to-face—“we didn’t have this conversation.”

“Why me?”

“I see more in you than I reckon you do. This might be your one chance to straighten out your life.”

Colt bristled. “What do you mean?”

“I’m no fool. You ride in here looking for a dead man, which means you’ve done time. No family. No money. No purpose in life. No relationship with the Lord. But I do see a shred of decency.”

Colt swallowed hard and was grateful for the darkness hiding him from humiliation—and anger.

“No need to answer,” Clancy said. “Will you stick around until the trouble’s gone?”

“I need to know what kind of trouble.”

“Let’s take a walk.” Clancy headed out into the blackness toward the corral, and Colt followed. More out of curiosity than interest.

“Thatcher Lee and I caught two of Anne’s men rustling cows. They would have killed us if Anne hadn’t ridden up and surprised them. She run ’em off, but they threatened to burn her place to the ground with her and the girls in it.”

Those words did set off Colt’s temper. The two men needed a hangman’s noose.

“What about the local law?”

“Aw, the sheriff says those two are long gone, but I don’t believe it for a minute. Besides, ten of our cows are gone.”

Colt let the silence filter his thoughts. He didn’t much care about getting shot or interfering in someone else’s trouble, but threatening womenfolk wasn’t right. Another thought entered his head. By helping the boss lady with this problem, she might feel grateful enough to give him what was rightfully his. That thought pricked his conscience. He didn’t have any business taking advantage of a woman, even a woman like Anne Langley.

I’ve gotten mean and hard. But if I don’t look out for myself, who will?

“What do you say?” Clancy asked.

“Yeah, I’ll stick around to help,” Colt said.

He made his way back to his bunk and tried to go to sleep. His mind sped ahead about his predicament. He kept learning new things that interrupted his original plans. Anger surfaced again toward any man who would threaten a widow and two little girls. At least they weren’t defenseless. Those two hands who’d rustled cattle might have had other things on their mind. Maybe they got wind of Will’s activities before he died. Maybe stealing a few cows was to cover up for something else.

A short while later, Thatcher Lee eased onto his bunk beside Colt’s.

“Took you long enough,” Colt whispered.

“We were talking.”

Colt nearly came out of his bunk. “That gal is fourteen years old. Too young for you to be thinkin’ on courtin’ matters.”

“You ain’t her pa.”

“No, but I knew him well enough to figure out what he’d have done to a young whippersnapper after his little girl.”

Thatcher Lee mumbled something under his breath.

“Give her about three or four years, and let her grow up proper. Filling her mind with woman things instead of letting her find out about life on her own is downright wrong.” With those words, Colt turned over away from Thatcher Lee’s bunk.

From Clancy’s bunk, he heard a muffled laugh.

C
olt leaned against the corral fence and pumped the well over the watering trough. The day had been a scorcher, and his mouth tasted as dry as the dirt beneath his feet. He’d been working at the Double L for more than three weeks, and not one more cow had been stolen. His fears about the two men using thievery as a cover for something else were unfounded. He had no doubt they’d long since left the territory.

Water began to flow from the spigot, and he cupped his hands for a cool drink. Once he doused his face, he stood and glanced up at the house. Why did he stay? Was it the money, or was it about being a decent man?

With no answers, his gaze focused on Nancy high up in a live oak tree. How did she get herself up there? And how did she plan to get down? He walked over there until he stood beneath the branches of the tree.

“Miss Nancy, how did you get up there?” he asked.

He saw the little girl rub her nose. A faint sob escaped her lips.

“Are you stuck?”

“I think so.”

Colt shook his head. “Did you climb up there?”

“Yes, sir. I tried and tried. Then I got the ladder and finally made it. It fell, and I couldn’t figure out how to get down.”

He wanted to chuckle but thought better of it. “Can you make your way to the lowest branch?” On the far side of the tree, the ladder rested on the ground.

She nodded and slowly descended until her bare toes touched on the branch.

“Jump and I’ll catch you,” he said.

“Promise?” Her lips trembled—a trait he’d seen when the boss lady had ridden the bronc.

“Promise.”

“And you won’t tell my mama or Sammie Jo or Clancy?”

“I promise.”

She took a deep breath and jumped right into his arms. Made him feel real protective.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, sir. Would you put me down before someone sees?”

He grinned. “Sure, and I’ll keep our little secret.”

He set her on the soft ground, and she scampered off. Shaking his head, he picked up the ladder and headed to the barn. His swaybacked mare awaited him to join the others.

“Thank you.”

Colt swung around to find the boss lady speaking to him from the back porch.

“You’re welcome.” He waved and continued on.

“Got a minute, Colt?”

Great. Wonder what he’d done wrong. The tongue-lashing over sleeping in church had kept him awake the past two Sundays. Bored, but awake.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Not at all. Do you have time to take a ride with me?”

His heart felt like tumbleweed in a windstorm. “I imagine so.”

He put away the ladder while she retrieved her horse, and he helped her saddle it.

“Will used to saddle my horse,” she said. “He always took the time to make sure it was tight.” She tilted her head, looking real pretty. “Then I decided I needed to do everything myself.”

He handed her the reins. She’d never talked to him before like he was a human being. But he’d wanted her to.

“I can see Will taking good care of you,” Colt said.

“That’s what I want to talk about.”

This must be it. She wanted to settle up on the money owed to him.

As they rode out across the pasture, Colt searched for conversation. His dealings with women in the past hadn’t been proper, and the women hadn’t been real ladies.

“I understand you told Thatcher Lee to stay away from Sammie Jo until she grew up.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry if I spoke without asking you first.”

“Not at all. I appreciate it. She wasn’t listening to me or Clancy. Of course, she’s a lot like me.”

Colt smiled.

“Tell me about Will and the times you spent together.”

How much dare he say? The man lay buried on his ranch. His wife did better than any woman he’d ever met, and his daughters weren’t afraid of anything—except Nancy and tall trees. Still, defaming the dead seemed wrong, even if it meant Will went to his grave with the knowledge of Colt’s money.

“What do you want to know?”

She hesitated as though carefully choosing her words. “I know my husband didn’t live according to the law. He confessed a lot to me while dying.”

Like the whereabouts of what belongs to me?

“And if you came here looking for money, you might as well turn around and head out of here, ’cause I don’t know anything about it.”

Colt’s spirits sank to his toes.

“What I want to know about is the man,” she said.

“Mrs. Langley—”

“The name is Anne.”

“All right, Anne. This is real difficult for me. Will and me did things I’d rather not discuss with a lady.”

“I’m your boss—and Will’s widow.”

Sweat streamed down the side of Colt’s face, and it had nothing to do with the heat. “He had a way of leading out in a situation that showed real guts. I mean, he didn’t ask a man to do anything he wouldn’t do.”