The Texan's Reward (20 page)

O’Daniel cried when she told of looking out the window and seeing the bodies.

Nell knew what Jacob was riding toward. Trouble. Big trouble. She’d talked to Mr. Harrison about it. He had

offered to try to catch up with the ranger, but they both knew Jacob would want him to stay right where he was.

Whatever Jacob faced, he had to face alone.

Nell stared at the ceiling. For once, something besides the pain in her back kept her awake. She pictured herself

lying next to her ranger. “Details,” she whispered. “Remember every detail.”

His chest rose and fell with his breathing. He smelled of horses and campfires and fresh air. His hair looked

coarse but was surprisingly soft in her fingers. His hands were rough, and when he tried to be gentle he touched

her heart. His voice was so loud when he was angry, but she heard the laughter in it when he whispered.

“Remember every detail,” she whispered, for with the details she’d somehow keep him alive. Nothing could

happen to him if she remembered everything.

Closing her eyes, she imagined his lips touching hers. She listened to the pounding of his heart. The wal of his

chest against hers. The warmth of him near.

Nell relaxed, slipping into sleep as her mind registered the faraway sound of a coyote howling.

“WE NEED TO TALK, MISS SMITH.” RANDOLPH HARRISON said the words so matter-of-factly she knew she

couldn’t put him off any longer.

He’d been patient enough, she guessed. Marla and he carried her down the stairs, and he hadn’t said a word. He

talked mostly to Brother Aaron at breakfast without giving details of his trip to her worst property. He’d even

stood watching as Nell took time to show Wednesday where al the knitting supplies were kept.

When Nel met his gaze, Mr. Harrison set his coffee cup down and once more waited.

“Very well, Mr. Harrison,” Nell answered, her hands already curling around the steel circling her chair’s wheels.

“Shal we go into the study?”

He fol owed her in and closed the door. Sunshine flowed into the room, as bright and warm as a summer day. Al

the morning glories in pots along the windowsill were in full color.

“Spring is definitely here.” He brushed one of the flowers with his fingertips as if it had been a lifetime since he’d touched one.

She didn’t mention how little it mattered to her. The days were pretty much the same, cold or hot, bright or

cloudy. Yet she couldn’t help but notice the difference in him since he arrived four days ago. He looked more

solid, probably thanks to Marla’s cooking, and his face was now tanned. Again, she wondered where he’d been

before he came here, but she didn’t ask. He had a right to his privacy. What mattered was what he did with his

time now, and as best she could tell, he was well on his way to making himself indispensable to her.

Nel rol ed to the desk and waited, wishing she didn’t have to deal with business. Settling the new nurse, taking

care of Wednesday, and worrying about Jacob seemed like enough to deal with for the day.

Last night, when Harrison returned late, it was enough to know he was safe. She’d asked to delay any discussion

about the Stockard place until morning. He’d nodded politely and disappeared into the kitchen, knowing that

Marla would have kept his supper warm.

Nel thought she’d heard them talking once when Gypsy opened the kitchen door, but she couldn’t be certain. It

occurred to her that the proper bookkeeper and the shy cook would probably have little to talk about.

“How is Mrs. O’Daniel this morning?” he asked more as conversation than true interest.

“I don’t think she’s over her fright from the robbery, or maybe it’s the whiskey she drank yesterday. When Marla

stepped into her room at dawn, the nurse told her to inform me that she’d be taking today off, but she’d like to

visit with me when I awoke.”

“And did she?”

“Take the day off?” Nell asked. “Yes.”

“No,” Harrison corrected. “Did she talk with you?”

Nel nodded. “I tapped on her door an hour ago. She was stil in bed and, to tel the truth, the woman was as

white as the sheets. But she wanted to go over her duties and then thanked me for the job.”

Nel shook her head. “I thought she was going to cry, but she didn’t. She seemed so grateful when it is I who

should thank her for coming all this way.”

“Jobs must be hard for a widow her age to find.” He sat behind the desk.

“Especially one with her unique ideas. She tells me I’ll be starting exercises twice a day tomorrow and as soon as

it warms a little, she plans to take me into the water. I told her the nearest water is two miles from here, but she

didn’t seem to think that would be a problem.”

Rand relaxed his arms on the desk as if it had been his for years and not days. “Do you think that will work?

Exercise in the water?”

Nell shrugged. “Nothing else has. I’m willing to try it. All the others seemed to think I needed more rest.”

He smiled, one of his rare grins. “I hope Mrs. O’Daniel can swim, because I doubt the woman will float.”

Nel thought he had a pleasant face when he smiled. “She says standing shoulder deep in water wil take most of

the weight off my legs and help me build the muscles back a little at a time. Her first husband, McGovern I think

she called him, came back from the war in the back of a wagon. Folks told her he’d never walk again, but they

swam every night in the Gulf of Mexico until his muscles finally grew strong enough to hold. She said he was

running the day he died.”

“What happened to husband number one?”

Nell smiled. “She said gambling killed him. Apparently, he didn’t see that there were already three aces on the

table when he showed his hand.”

“Too bad the water didn’t improve his sight,” Harrison said. “This theory of hers might work, if you don’t float

downstream.” He shuffled papers on the desk, putting little faith in the nurse’s idea.

“And if I did,” she teased, “would you jump in and save me, Mr. Harrison?”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t swim.”

She had no doubt he was being honest. Her ranger would have said he’d have tried even if he couldn’t swim.

With Harrison, life would always be constant, even. With Dalton, it would be unpredictable.

“Shal we get to work?” Harrison asked as though they’d wasted enough time simply talking. “There is much we

need to cover this morning.”

Nel nodded, wondering if the man would ever al ow anyone to know him well. He’d been in her house almost

four days, and she knew little more about him now than when he’d introduced himself.

As he explained al that he’d found on the Stockard place, she tried to focus. This was her land, her money, her

future income. She couldn’t afford not to know al about it. But thoughts of Jacob drifted like tumbleweeds

across her mind. He’d been gone almost twenty-four hours. Had he found the train robbers? Was he stil safe?

A strange sensation settled over her. An ache deep inside. She’d missed him before, thought of him often, but

never like this. Never as if a part of her were missing. The longing wasn’t for something she wanted, but more

for something she needed.

“I drew a map of the property.” Harrison broke into her thoughts. “It is my estimate that about thirty percent of

the land could be used for farming, but it would take a dozen men a month to clear it of brush and rocks.

Another twenty percent had enough grass and water to be used as range. But it wouldn’t take long for the cattle

to move across the grass. With your other land, there would be no need to move the cattle to Stockard’s ranch.

If you ran a few head on the place and there was a drought, the cattle on the property would have to be

absorbed into the other ranches.”

“So, you’re telling me half is worthless and the rest is poor.”

He nodded. “A man would have to be a fool to offer more than half the going rate for land like I saw yesterday. If

you add in how far out it is from town and the signs that the water will disappear in a drought, a half-price offer

for the ranch would be worth considering.”

Nell leaned closer to Harrison. “And Walter Farrow wants to offer us the going rate. Twice what it’s worth.”

Harrison lowered his voice. “Either he’s crazy, or I didn’t see what was so valuable about that property.”

“Maybe it’s not the property.” She tried to remember what the ranch had looked like. She’d gone out to the

place years ago when Stockard had been ill. “I rode in a supply wagon once to deliver food and medicine to the

old man. Fat Alice was worried about him.” Nell winked. “Fat Alice worried about all her paying customers, and

somehow Henry Stockard always managed to come up with enough money to come to cal . Near the end, I think

she must have just cared about him.”

Mr. Harrison shook his head. “He might have raised money from gambling, but not from any profit made on the

land.”

“He might have rented out his little house in town.”

“Maybe.”

Nell could still remember the earthy way Henry’s half-dugout, half-cabin had smel ed. “I don’t recal much about

the land, but I’l never forget the feeling I got almost the minute I turned off the main road.” She hesitated, not

wanting Harrison to think her sil y. “It was like someone, or something, watched me. No, not just watched, more

like stalked me. Fat Alice said no one but Stockard lived on the place, but I sure had the feeling someone else

was out there hidden among the rocks.”

Harrison looked surprised. “Strange. I kept looking over my shoulder yesterday. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was

being fol owed.” He brushed the back of his neck. “I could almost feel them breathing down on me.”

“You think it could have been Walter Farrow following you?”

“It could have been. He’s staying in town, and I rode through there, so he might have seen me and fol owed. But

why? You told him he could go out there. He must have known I’d be checking out the place.”

When Nel didn’t comment, Harrison added, “The sheriff says as far as he knows, no one has been on the ranch

since the old man died.”

Nell agreed. “The last time Fat Alice checked on him, Stockard was too weak to protest, and she brought him to

town. He died in the doctor’s office a few days later of pneumonia. His will was on file in town, and everyone

knew, besides the land, he didn’t own anything anyone would want. Fat Alice never even sent someone over to

clear out his belongings that I know about.”

“Then why,” Harrison grinned, obviously loving a mystery, “is his shack boarded up?”

“You mean locked up?”

“No, boarded up. I didn’t have the tools to break into it, but whoever nailed the boards across the door and

windows didn’t want anyone getting inside without some effort.”

“And who could have done it?” Nell asked. “Alice, maybe, but why? Who’d she want to keep out?”

Harrison shook his head. “My guess is she might have wanted to keep something locked away inside. I circled

the dugout. It’l take a hatchet to get into there. I couldn’t even find a loose board to pull off so I could take a

look.”

Marla entered with coffee. Then, at Mr. Harrison’s invitation, stayed a minute to discuss the plans for the day.

Harrison wanted to go to town for supplies and to make sure the title to the Stockard ranch would be ready to

transfer if Walter Farrow made an offer. He planned to make another trip out to the land but didn’t want to be

away from the house that long until Jacob returned.

“I could get into town and back in an hour,” he suggested.

This time Nell wasn’t surprised Marla wanted to go along with him. Marla was turning into his shadow, she

thought, or maybe it was the other way around.

Nel knew Gypsy would be busy with wash until midafternoon, so that would leave her to entertain Wednesday

and the preacher. She predicted the day would be full of chatter.

When she joined Wednesday, Nel found her busy sorting fabric. The girl smiled up at Nel as though she’d found

a pirate’s hidden treasure. Nell had a habit of ordering material by mail from a store in Kansas that sent out

samples several times a year. By the time the purchases arrived, she’d forgotten what she planned to do with

most of the fabric. But Wednesday had ideas. The best of which was making Nel dresses that didn’t have to go

over her head.

“If you’ll let me,” she giggled, “I’ll make you one and show you how much easier it will be for you to get dressed.

It’l be my way of paying you back an ounce for your pound of kindness.”

Nell acted like she was thinking about it. “Well, al right, but you’l have to make everyone else something new,

too. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”

The girl laughed and began chattering about ideas she’d already thought of. Gypsy needed a dress that pul ed on

quick as an apron so when company knocked she could slip it on and run for the door. Marla needed something

that looked good on her slender frame.

“This could take some time,” Nel final y found a break to comment. “You might have to stay quite a while. If I

like the dress, I’ll want another.”

Tears fil ed Wednesday’s eyes when she smiled.

Nell pulled an unfinished quilt over her lap and began to embroider stitches across the seams as she listened to

Wednesday’s plans for each piece of material.

When Mr. Harrison stopped by to tel her he was leaving for town, she pul ed him aside and told him to buy

material for baby things. He looked at her as if she’d asked him the impossible.

“I’l try,” he said, then hurried away before she could think of any more dragons that needed slaying.