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Authors: Kelli Ann Morgan

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BOOK: The Rancher
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“Max Grayson and Henry Campbellwant to call a town council meeting,” Clayinformed those at the table.

“I’m not so sure involving the whole town is wise just yet.” Although the thought had struck Cole, it was Rafe who was the first to voice it.

“Go on,” Clay encouraged.

“We need to devise a plan that will

allow us to involve the town when the

time is right.  If we let on too soon what we’re planning, we may just tip off the wrong people and we’ll never catch them.”

“Caleb told us you almost sold the

ranch a few years back,” Raine said.

Cole hadn’t heard about that and leaned

in a little closer.

“Ah, yes.  When Abby’s mother died I felt like a part of me had gone with her.  I was ready to sell the place.” A fleeting sadness appeared in Clay’s voice. “Offers came from all over, but the two most prominent were the Carson’s and the Grayson’s. If it weren’t for Abby’s determination to keep the place and her… persuasiveness, the SilverHawk would no longer be ours.”

“Clay,” Raine asked, “who would stand to gain the most if you did sell?”

“I guess that would depend on who I sold it to.” The older man rubbed the graying stubble on his chin and stood.  Cole remembered how large the man had

seemed, blocking the doorway at the church after the wedding, and realized now that although Clay was probably twice his age, he was still in good form.

“What aren’t you telling us, Clay?”

“What makes you think I’m not telling you something?” Clay narrowed his eyes.

“My gut,” Cole stated matter-of-factly.

Clay studied Cole for a while before responding. “Levi did warn me about your gut. Remember when I told you about the man who came to my door wanting to buy the SilverHawk a few weeks back?”

Cole nodded.

“I wasn’t the only ranch he visited. A while back I got wind of some... government construction that would be coming through my land. I imagine there’ll be a mighty big profit from the sale of that

parcel to the—“

“Railroad,” Cole finished for him.

Clay nodded in affirmation. “Anyone who knew about the railroad coming in would stand to gain a lot by purchasing my ranch and the surrounding properties.”

This shed a whole new light on things.  It had to be the railroad.  Cole doubted that there were many left in this town that even knew about the silver mine Alaric’s grandfather had kept secret for so long, let alone believed the legends surrounding it. So, what else could it be?  Something just didn’t sit right.

“Rumor has it that whoever bought the Gnarled Oak Ranch is behind it all, trying to push everybody out.” Clay spooned a large heap of eggs onto his plate.

Raine and Rafe exchanged glances.

Then, both looked at Cole.

“The Gnarled Oak?” Cole asked,ignoring his brothers.

“The land just to the north of us is thelargest spread in the northern territory.  Every ranch and property around hereused to be a part of either the Johanssonspread or the Deardon’s.”

A sinking pit formed in Cole’s belly.  Itwas time to tell Clay the truth.

“When Friedrich Johansson passed on,we thought young Alaric would take over,but nobody’s seen or heard from him.  Didn’t even make it to the funeral.”

Cole remembered when Alaric hadreceived   the   telegram   about   hisgrandfather’s passing.   He’d said hewasn’t ready for the responsibility of his

name.  Now, Cole understood why. It was

all
 
his
 
responsibility.

“Clay, I—“

“Haven’t met the new owner yet.  Don’t know that I care to. Goons with guns started showing up at folkses homes, demanding payment in full for their mortgage notes.”

“Wait.  What?” Cole was stunned.

“Most of the smaller ranches sold out.

Some got loans from the bank.” Clay tooka drink of his milk.  “Well, after a littlepressure most of them sold out.   Afterhaving their houses broken into, toolscome up missing, unexplained accidents. Hell, the Lawson’s had their entire herdpoisoned.” Clay leaned back against thelarge chair.    “Although, I think theybought their land from Bill Deardon,” headded as an afterthought.  “Can’t imagine

any of Bill’s kin resortin’ to downright thievery.”

“Because   they   wouldn’t,”   Rafe announced and then both he and Raine

turned to look at Cole, eyebrows raised.

He couldn’t wait any longer.

Clay narrowed his eyes at Rafe and then followed the stares to Cole’s face.

“Clay,” Cole started, but everything he’d rehearsed in the stable flew out the window.   “It’s me.
 
I
 
own the Gnarled

Oak
 
and
 
all the Deardon land.”

“Hell.  I didn’t see that one comin’.”

Chapter Seventeen

Sunday

Abby awoke to the morning lightfiltering into her room, the rays warmingher face.  She knew it wasn’t much pastdawn and though she couldn’t have hadmore than a couple of hours of sleep, shelay there, staring out her bedroomwindow, unable to close her eyes.  Shewatched how the vibrant colors of themorning perched on the clouds along thehorizon and tried to clear the sleep fromher eyes.

She sat up and stretched her arms aboveher head.  The heavy patchwork quilt, that

had provided ample warmth throughout the night, fell off her shoulders in a heap in her lap.  The added weight on her legs was heavy and constricting.  She reached both hands beneath the thick material and

tossed the blanket away from her, toward the bottom of the large four-poster bed.  Taking a deep breath, she draped her legs over the edge and sat there, waiting, thinking.   She glanced at the crumpled indentation on the other side of the bed.

A sudden recollection of all the night’sevents made Abby jump from the bed.  “Rustlers,” she muttered aloud.

On her way out the door, Abby caughther ruffled reflection in the washstand

mirror and wished she hadn’t.  But this couldn’t wait.  As she shimmied into some

blue denims and a white linen blouse, she

cursed herself for falling asleep.   Cole had probably already told her father everything.  How would Clay McCallister ever believe she could take care of the

ranch if she couldn’t stay awake through the ordeal?

She pulled on her riding boots, which she realized Cole must have removed while she’d slept, and blushed at the thought of his hands against her bare skin. He was a distraction that was beginning to cost more than her good judgment.  There was something going on at the ranch and until she could figure it out, it would be best to stay clear of Cole Redbourne and his beautiful dimples.

On the landing at the foot of the stairs she stopped.  Voices were coming from the kitchen.  It had been a long time since

she’d slept past dawn and wondered who else she’d find at the breakfast table this

morning.  Standing just outside the door she listened as those inside engaged deep in conversation. She dared a peek inside and saw Cole first, his back to her, followed by the two of his brothers and her father, who sat in his seat at the head of the table.

Breakfast at the McCallister ranch wasusually served right at six and Sundayswere no different. Although it was the Sabbath, there were still chores to do,cattle and horses to feed, and meals to bemade before heading into town for church.

With   a   glance   at   her   great-grandmother’s grandfather clock she sawit was nearly six thirty and hurriedlywalked across the living area.  The doors

to the kitchen had been propped open and Abby stopped just short of the entry.  Nervous, she ran her hands down her clothing and pinched her cheeks for some added color.  She let out a slow breath

before she stepped into the kitchen, where a brilliant ray of morning light shone through the window, warming her face.

“Hell.  I didn’t see that one comin’,” her father said before all eyes turned to look at her.

She was immediately greeted by threeof the most handsome men she had ever

seen. One she recognized as another of Cole’s brothers who’d joined them last night, but to whom she had not yet been introduced.

“Good mornin’, ma’am,” they said in unison, their presence striking, filling the

entire room as they stood.

“Didn’t see what coming?” Abby asked to no one in particular.

“You must be the woman who finally caught our little brother.” She almost choked at the word ‘little’, but smiled instead.  The man stepped away from the table and walked toward her.  He placed his hands on her forearms and leaned

down to place a kiss on her cheek. “I’m

Rafe.”

His voice was like warm honey and Abby felt herself melting in his presence.  She felt sorry for girl who had to fightaway the bees to get some of him.

“Welcome to the family,” he said as hestepped away from her.

Abby was sure she was blushing fromhead to toe.  “Good morning, Rafe. I’m

Abby.” She’d never been introduced likethat in all her life and she stumbled over

her words, unsure what she should say. “It is such a...a pleasure to meet you.”

Cole pulled out the chair next to him.  Clay was on the other side and leaned over to kiss Abby’s forehead before retaking   his   seat.   “Good   morning, sweetheart.”

There was tension in the air.  She couldfeel it in the room like a heavy cloud ofemotion.  Awkwardness took over as allconversation halted. Finally, Raine brokethe silent discomfort.

“So, what brings the infamous Rafe

Redbourne out here to Colorado?”

“Oh, right.” Rafe seemed a bit startled by the question. “A bounty.  Kidnapping,” he said, picking up another slice of warm

cornbread.  “He took a young, soon-to-be wife of a British Duke and brought her west.  His trail led me here.”

“He was in town when talk of a

Redbourne wedding party made himcurious,” Cole leaned over and whisperedto Abby.

“Good thing I did too or Charcoal heremay not have such a perty mug thismorning.” Rafe grasped Cole by thecheeks and squeezed.

Abby giggled.

“Very funny.”   Cole didn’t seemamused, but some of the tension in theroom lifted.

“Harrison Beckett is sly, all right,” Rafe said loudly.  “Ladies seem to thinkhe’s a real charmer.  I have his sketch out

in my saddle pouch.” He took a long drink

of his fresh buttermilk and then turned to Cole, his face serious.   “I wish you’d sketched it.  Whoever did this one... well, let’s just say they lacked your talent.”

Abby looked at Cole.   He was an artist?  There were so many things about him she didn’t know.  Watching the color rise in his face, the thought of her marrying a complete stranger finally sunk in. She knew nothing about him, but the more she learned, the more she wanted to.

“You   draw?”   she   asked,   still bewildered at the thought.

“I scribble.” He picked at his food without looking up.

“Aw, don’t let him fool ya.  He’s real good.” Raine jabbed him in the side.

The awkwardness returned.  She looked

around at all four men in the room.  They

were unusually quiet.

“So, have we learned yet who owns the Gnarled Oak?”

Four pairs of eyes darted in her direction.

“Look, I know there is something going on around here, Papa, and I want to know what it is.” She placed her hand over his much larger, clenched hand on the table. “What are we going to do about these rustlers?”

“Cole,” Clay said as he continued to stare at Abby, his jaw flexed tightly before he slowly turned his glare to his new son-in-law, “why don’t you tell me exactly what happened last night that my daughter, who you’ve sworn to me you would protect, is aware there were rustlers in the area.”

Cole shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  He looked up from his food, first at Abby,then at her father.

BOOK: The Rancher
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