Hearts Surrendered on the Cattle Trail (Preview)

Prologue

1889 Silver Creek, Texas

How could her father have done such a thing? The thought ran through Clara Dalton’s mind as she stood, still in shock, beside her father’s grave. Grasping the loss was still too big, too raw, and too unbelievable.

The Silver Creek cemetery wasn’t large, but the number of tombstones jutting up like sentinels under the hot Texas sky seemed excessive. Now there was one more.

She was good at taking on whatever happened, but this time it was too much of a shock. The loss was heartbreaking. No one should be tasked at twenty-one with picking up the reins and riding forward.

She had never felt so hollowed out and lost.

How could she go on? She was alone, and she didn’t have the answers. And now she felt a suffocating weight on her shoulders. Willow Ridge Ranch was hers alone, and she had to make decisions she didn’t want to make.

A cold chill of uncertainty crawled over her skin, a tide of doubt that would never recede.

A warm hand landed on her shoulder. Sarah Ellison stood by her. As if to remind Clara that she really wasn’t alone. Sarah had been the closest thing she had to a mother. Sarah’s husband, Will, and their adult son, Samuel, were also there.

Beside her, Dusty, her faithful and intelligent companion sat at her feet. Dusty had been trained to guard Willow Ridge Ranch by her father, and he’d loved Dusty as much as she did. It was only fitting that the dog was there, too.

Clara’s father and the Ellison’s lived and worked together on the ranch. The family had loved her father, too. Thank the good Lord she wasn’t truly alone, despite how she felt. She was grateful to have them.

Clara’s father kept his illness a secret in a misguided plan to protect her. But it had been a bad plan. Why he thought he should do that was unknown to her.

She barely heard the minister’s voice as he droned on, speaking words meant to offer comfort. Words that couldn’t penetrate her fogged mind. She tugged at the suffocatingly tight collar of her dress. The garment felt restricting, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable compared to her usual attire, dressing like a ranch hand.

The entire situation felt more like a nightmare she couldn’t wake from. How she wished she would open her eyes and find that none of it had happened. To see sunlight flooding through her bedroom window instead of standing in the shadows of sorrow and grief.

She would have rather known her father was running out of time so they could have spent his final months focusing on their relationship, instead of on the day-to-day operations of the ranch. But he’d said nothing, and the morning he hadn’t come for breakfast, she found him cold and stiff in his bed. Dead for hours.

She’d never considered that something like that could happen to her, but it had. Hopefully, the good Lord would spare her from ever having something like that happen to her again.

Many people had loved him, and they were there with her, also shocked and grieving, but it made no difference in the fact that she now had to run the ranch by herself. And she didn’t know if she was up to the job. Being the last of her family was almost too much. How was she to uphold her father’s legacy? It was a burden she didn’t want but couldn’t avoid.

It registered that the mourners had shifted, and she glanced up from the dark hole she was in.

Is the service over? People were turning to go. She hadn’t even been aware of it. She’d been so lost in her panicked, grieving thoughts.

Her gaze landed on Jack as he approached. Her chest and stomach tightened. He still looked the same. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and dark brown hair that always looked messy.

She was aware that her lips had bowed into an even deeper grimace.

What is he doing here? Had he come to see if her father had left him something in his will?

Jack stopped before her. “Clara, I’m so sorry.”

“You needn’t have come.”

His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. “I swear Clara, those green eyes of yours never warm up around me. Your raven hair has grown longer over the years, but still no warmth in your eyes.”

“Not my fault,” she said.

What did he expect? A big welcome back? He wasn’t getting one from her.

“I had to come… for him.” He shrugged slightly. “I just wanted to offer my condolences. I know how much you loved him.”

The bitterness faded. The dull ache of grief once more overshadowed everything around her. She turned away from him, retreating. She had no desire to talk about anything with him. She feared he would come after her, but he didn’t.

She glanced back and saw Sarah talking to Jack. Sarah liked him. Always had. So had her father.

She made her way to the buggy and climbed in. She would have rather ridden her horse, Krieger, but with a dress, the buggy had been most suitable. She already gave the townspeople enough to talk about with the way she dressed, and working on the ranch solidified her “unladylike behavior.”

“Come on, Dusty.” She patted the seat and the dog jumped up and settled beside her.

Clara stroked Dusty’s head, lovingly. Dusty licked her hand, then put her head on Clara’s lap as if trying to offer comfort. “You’re such a good girl, Dusty. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Dusty thumped her tail on the seat, but not with her usual zeal.

Sarah, Will, and Samuel followed behind in their own buggy. They probably thought she would want to be alone after the funeral. And they were right.

She drove back to Willow Ridge Ranch in a blur, managing the horse on instinct alone, driving without even knowing where she was or what she was doing.

When she reached the ranch, she unhitched the horse, groomed him, and turned him out in the pasture where he promptly dropped and rolled in a dusty patch.

If the day hadn’t been so awful, she would have laughed, but she couldn’t find it in herself to find humor in anything. Instead, she let her gaze travel over the only place she’d ever called home.

Her parents had built Willow Ridge Ranch, which expanded into a much bigger ranch over the years. Big barns, outbuildings, and miles of pastureland. Thousands of fat cattle grazed contentedly, with no idea that a disaster had befallen the land. Horses grazed in their own pastures. And they had even added a veranda sprawling across the front.

And now it was her responsibility to keep it running. She would manage no matter what it took. She’s worked on Willow Ridge Ranch ever since she was old enough to help.

She’d learned fast and done her best to keep up with the men. She couldn’t do everything they could, but she could do a lot by herself.

Clara was lost in thought yet again. How she wished her father realized what would happen when everything was dropped at her feet with no warning. She rubbed her eyes to clear the blurriness away. She’d loved her father so much that it was hard for her to accept that he was gone.

At least she had her rock, Sarah, and Will, who was a loyal and hardworking man. And their son, Samuel, was almost like a brother.

She trudged to the house and changed her clothes. She didn’t want to mope around inside. She would do some chores where she could be alone for a while and pray about her situation.

***

“Is that you Clara?” Sarah called from the kitchen.

“It’s me.” Clara entered the room and found Sarah making tea.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked.

“No, but I will be.” She didn’t have any choice.

Sarah pushed her hair back. “I’ll make some chamomile tea for you. It’s good to soothe nerves. I’ll have one, too.”

“I guess I could use a cup,” Clara said. Sarah had been employed as a cook for as long as she could remember. But she was so much more to Clara. She had been the one Clara turned to growing up without a mother. She had filled the role perfectly and was a steady rock when Clara needed one.

“I didn’t expect Jack to be there,” Clara said. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him? He was nothing but trouble. Always had been.

“That would be because I let him know about the funeral,” Sarah said. “He respected your father, Clara. I figured he had a right to know. He left right after the funeral, but he wrote down his address in case you need him.” Sarah indicated a folded sheet of paper on the table.

Clara brushed it aside as though dismissing the idea with the swipe of her hand. The note fell to the floor. She ignored it. He was the last person she would call on for help. She would never voluntarily be around him again.

“You might want to hang on to that,” Sarah said. “Just in case. You never know what might happen.” Sarah scooped it up and tucked it in one of the drawers.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing the services of a bounty hunter any time soon.” Sarah had more than her share of wisdom and often offered guidance when Clara had faced difficult decisions. But she was wrong about Jack.

Sarah poured two cups of tea and brought one to Clara, who accepted it gratefully. “I always loved this stuff.”

“It’s good for you,” Sarah said. “Soothes the nerves and the soul. And just about anything else that ails a person.”

“In that case, I can definitely use it,” Clara replied.

When she finished the tea, Clara spoke again. “I’m going to lie down for a little bit and get some rest.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Sarah answered.

Clara went to her room at the back of the hall. Dusty lay curled in the corner. She lifted her head and whined when Clara stepped inside the room.

“Hi girl,” Clara greeted the dog.

The big shepherd stood and came to Clara. Dusty wagged her tail in greeting. Clara fussed over her for a few minutes then kicked off her shoes and sprawled on the bed.

Dusty jumped on the bed and curled up at the foot where she whimpered as if sharing her own grief. The weight of grief was crushing, bearing down on her until she wasn’t sure she could stand it. And the tears wouldn’t be denied a moment longer.

They raged and rolled down her cheeks until, at long last, she seemed to be fading toward the peace of sleep. She wanted to sleep and forget for a little while that she was the mistress of Willow Ridge Ranch and everyone was counting on her to do the right things.

Chapter One

Three Months Later

Clara sat on the porch just after dawn broke across the sky. A cool breeze caressed her skin, but it would be blazing hot before long. Another day, but it brought nothing new.

As she watched the sky lighten then turn pink, she thought about the day ahead of her. She loved Willow Ridge Ranch, and the people and animals who inhabited it. But it seemed like it grew harder and more desperate by the day to keep things operating the way it should.

She’d already made one blunder that had cost them a dozen head of cattle. And she’d been lucky that it hadn’t been more. Samuel had spotted cougar tracks crossing one of the far pastures. She’d assumed the cat had passed through and disappeared. Will had told her they needed to move the cattle down to a lower pasture, but she’d insisted they would be fine.

Work had picked up and things had been hectic. As a result, no one had ridden up to that pasture for over a month. And when they did, they’d found the remains of a dozen cattle. And it was all on her. Will had warned her, and she hadn’t listened.

Will and Samuel had hunted for the cat without any luck. Finally, they’d driven the cattle down to the lower pastures and the slaughter had ended.

The screen door screeched open and Sarah came outside, bringing Clara’s thoughts back to the present. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

Clara smiled. “You know me better than anyone else.”

“I suppose I do,” Sarah said and sat down beside her. “I miss him, too. He was such a good man.”

“I’ll never be able to run this ranch the way he did,” Clara said.

“No. You’re running it your own way,” Sarah replied, reassuringly. “And that’s good. Everyone has their own way of doing things. And there’s no shame in that. The Lord will be there when you need him to help. You just have to ask him.”

“I know you’re right,” Clara said. She needed to stop thinking about it so much and just do the work. It would work out in the end. It always did.

“You’ll get things smoothed out over time, Sarah continued.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.”

When the will had been read, Clara’s father left her everything. He’d also left a heartfelt letter that reassured her of her abilities and encouraged her to trust the people in her life who cared for her. She kept the letter next to her bed and read it every morning. The smooth paper always seemed to feel warm in her hands.

She wasn’t sure she would have made it through several of those mornings without that letter. She still needed it. Perhaps her father had known she would need his words of comfort and advice in the days following his death.

The women sat in companionable silence for a little while. But finally, Clara stood. “I guess I’d better get my day started.”

“Me, too,” Sarah said. “I don’t know what I’ll fix for lunch today.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Clara answered and ran her finger over the rough wood of the chair she sat on. “You could make dishwater taste good.”

Sarah snorted. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“I am.” She gave Sarah a little smile and headed for the barn, breathing in the fresh morning air. It smelled like rain. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had a storm. As parched as the land was, they would welcome a good downpour.

She found Sarah’s husband, Will, feeding the cattle. He’d filled the line of feeders with mill feed. They didn’t need hay with the pasture grass, but they would later when the cooler weather came in late fall.

“How are things going?” she asked.

Will stopped what he was doing and came over to the fence. “Mornin’ Miss Clara. Got a couple new calves this mornin’.”

“Those are always welcome,” she said.

“I know,” he said. “Seems like everythin’s fit as a fiddle.”

“Good to hear it.” She pushed her thick braid over her shoulder. “Is Samuel still working on that new horse?”

“Yeah, that ornery brute has tossed him off more times that I want to count. But he’s determined to make a good horse out of ‘em. I know he will, too.”

“I’m sure he will. Samuel has a touch with horses,” she said.

She knew about breaking horses. She tamed and trained her own horse two years ago. It was one of the accomplishments she was most proud of. Krieger, a big black and white pinto, was the best horse she’d ever had. And she’d made him into a fine riding and ranch horse all by herself. It hadn’t been easy. He’d been captured on the range as a young colt, and he’d fought her every step of the way—until he didn’t.

She went to the round corral behind the barn and leaned on the rough top board. Several pine trees grew between the corral where they worked with horses and the rest of the property. The trees served to block distractions and some of the noise that came from other parts of the ranch.

Will’s son, Samuel, sat astride a big chestnut horse that had fire in his eyes and a mean set to his ears which were pinned back, but not flattened. Still, it didn’t look like Samuel was in for a good ride.

Samuel sat still on the horse, not asking anything of him other than accepting a saddle and a rider’s weight on his back. Without warning, the horse exploded in a fury of bucking with his nose nearly on the ground and his hind legs in the air.

It had been a while since she’d seen a horse make such an attempt to unseat a rider. He would probably be a great ranch horse when Samuel was done with him. She valued animals that didn’t give on the first try or two. She valued spirit and a desire to remain wild and free.

Though, on her ranch, any horse taken from the range ended up with a good life for a little work in exchange. She valued the animals they were responsible for and saw that they received good care. Same as her father had done. She knew very well it didn’t work like that on every ranch.

Samuel did an admirable job of sticking in the saddle until the horse changed tactics and went from bucking hard and sending up dust clouds to rearing up on his hind legs and pawing at the sky, as if challenging Heaven itself.

Samuel went off, before he could catch himself. He jumped up and dusted himself off. The horse trotted a short distance away, turned, and snorted at Samuel.

“You’ll get him,” Clara said.

“I know. Tough one,” Samuel replied and came over to the rail.

“I have faith in you,” she continued as she gripped the splintery board.

“How’s your morning going?”

“All right, I suppose.” “You?”

He fidgeted a bit then said, “I have some good news.”

“What is it?”

“Well… I proposed to Judy last night.” He blushed at the confession.

Clara couldn’t believe it. Finally. “That’s wonderful,” she said, joy blooming in her chest. “Judy must be so happy. She’s been waiting, hoping for a while, and I know she’ll be a wonderful wife.”

Samuel’s eyes sparkled, and he nodded.

“I can’t wait,” Samuel said.

“I’m sure Judy can’t wait either,.”

Outside of Sarah, Judy was her only other good friend.

“I didn’t know if it was too soon after your father’s passing,” he explained.

“This is your life. And Judy’s my friend. I would never expect you to put off something so important. You’ve been sweet on her for a couple of years. This is wonderful and beautiful.”

He grinned and blushed even harder.

“I hope you’ll still help with the annual cattle drive to the market before the wedding,” she continued. “I’ll need escorts.”

“Of course,” Samuel replied. “But are you sure you want to make that journey? You never accompanied your father before.”

She stiffened. “Willow Ridge Ranch is now my responsibility.”

“I’m sorry, Clara. Of course, I’ll help with the cattle drive.”

“Thank you, I appreciate your help.”

“I better get back on that horse,” he said and grinned.

Samuel caught the horse and swung back in the saddle. He didn’t have time to get his other foot in the stirrup before the horse launched off the ground in an impressive show of bucks and crow-hops. The horse put his head down and his rear hooves in the air sending Samuel sailing through the air.

He landed hard with his leg at an odd angle, and he let out a loud yowl of sheer pain. His face took on a pinched look, and he grabbed his leg as a long groan came out of him.

“Samuel, are you all right?” Clara climbed the fence rails and dropped into the corral. She ran to him and went down on her knees beside him. “Your leg?”

He rocked back and forth and panted for breath. “I think…” He groaned, long and loud. “My leg.” He put his forehead down on the knee of his uninjured leg and groaned again. “Think it’s broken.”

His face had turned an alarming shade of red and then an ashy gray. He panted hard. Another moan came out of him. He shivered as if with a sudden chill.

“Oh no. Hold tight. I’ll get the horse out of here and then get Will.” She walked slowly toward the horse. It pinned its ears back and blew through its nostrils at her. “Ho, there, boy.”

The horse pawed at the dirt but didn’t move. Slowly she reached and caught the reins. She tugged gently and the horse followed. “Good boy.”

She led him out and to the closest pasture. Clara tied him to the rail and stripped off the saddle, leading him through the gate and removing the bridle. The horse tossed his head, wheeling around and she dodged aside, anticipating him kicking out. The horse did exactly as she expected and galloped off over the slight hill.

She left the saddle and bridle; boots pounding over the dry earth, she raced back to the cow pasture to fetch Samuel’s father.

***

Will hitched the team, and somehow, between the two of them, they carried Samuel to the wagon laying him down in the back.

After a half-hour drive into town, they finally helped Samuel hobble between the two of them into Doctor White’s office.

“What happened?” the doctor asked.

“Got thrown off a horse and landed bad,” Samuel choked out. “Think I broke my leg.”

“Well, let’s get you on the exam table and see what’s going on.”

“I need to cut the pant leg. Either that or you need to remove your trousers.” Dr. White said, once Samuel was seated on the table.

“I can go outside if you need to remove them,” Clara offered.

“Yeah, I don’t want to cut my clothes up,” Samuel said, chuckling.

“Let me know when you’re dressed.” She hurried outside to let the doctor get to work.

***

When Dr. White finished aligning Samuel’s leg and stabilizing it in a ridged splint, Clara was anxious and upset.

Finally allowed back in the office with Samuel and Will, she looked on with nothing short of horror at the contraption strapped around his lower leg. Dr. White had ended up having to cut the trouser leg anyway to get it over the splint.

“I’ll buy you a pair of trousers to replace those,” she said.

“No, it’s okay. I’m afraid I’m going to be useless until my leg heals. The doc said it’s going to be months before I can get on a horse again.”

Oh no! The cattle drive. What am I going to do? Clara was already short handed. Heat and lightheadedness filled her, and her heartbeat thumped in her ears. The situation pressed on her, pushing her down even further.

“It’s okay, I’ll replace them anyway. And I’ll pay the doc. You were injured working on my ranch.” Her voice sounded distant. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.

“Are you all right?” Dr. White asked with a look of concern on his weathered face.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I was just thinking about tasks at the ranch.” It wasn’t a lie, at least not exactly.

She did her best to stop the trembling in her hands as she settled the bill. No one needed to see she was in distress. Everyone had their own problems. She didn’t want to burden anyone with hers.

“Thank you for everything, Doc,” she said.

“You’re very welcome. Make sure he stays off that leg and uses the crutches.”

“We’ll do our best,” Will said in reply.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a good patient.” Samuel added with a wry smile.

The doctor nodded.

Clara and Will walked beside Samuel as he used the unfamiliar crutches to make it out to the wagon. He made it up onto the seat with difficulty, but he finally settled and grinned at them. “See, no problem at all.”

She couldn’t say the same, though she would never utter the words out loud. She had no idea how she was going to drive the herd to market on her own, but she would find a way. She didn’t have a choice.

The ride home was quiet as if they were each lost in their own thoughts. When they arrived, they managed to help Samuel onto the porch where he made himself as comfortable as possible.

Sarah rushed out to the porch with Judy right behind her.

“Samuel, are you okay?” Sarah stared at his leg and her eyes grew wide. “Can you get around? Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” he said. “I can get around good enough when I have to.”

Judy rushed to him. “Can I help you get into the house?”

He chuckled. “Now what kind of a man would turn that down? Of course, you can help me.”

Judy slipped her arm around him and walked slowly beside him until he made it into the house. She helped him to the kitchen table.

Martha’s hands fluttered around like distressed birds. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I have some fresh. Could I get you something else?”

“I’d love a cup of coffee,” Samuel said and settled deeper into the chair. Judy sat beside him.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked again.

“Ma, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”

Clara squeezed his shoulder. “Judy, Samuel told me the wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.”

Judy smiled and blushed. “Thank you, Clara. I can’t wait until we’re married.”

Samuel grinned.

Sarah poured coffee for Samuel then turned to Clara. “Samuel said you’re going to need help with the cattle drive.” She went to one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out the slip of paper. She gave it to Clara. “Set your anger aside and contact him.”

Clara knew what it was. It had Jack’s address written on it. She didn’t want to do it. “I’ll contact him.” Clara said, reluctantly. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She went outside where Will was talking to one of the hands.

“Will, I need you to find some hired guns to help with the cattle drive. I’m going to contact Jack, too.”

“All right,” he said. “I’m sure we can find men looking for work.”

It would be a tough journey, but they had to make it work.

Chapter Two

Jack Thornton sat in the saddle as his horse, Major, picked his way over rough terrain. The two men he’d been tracking for weeks weren’t far ahead now. The freshness of their horses’ tracks told him all he needed to know.

It wouldn’t be long before he closed the distance between them. They were unsavory characters, but he had no doubt of his ability to capture them and deliver them to Sheriff Collins. The reward money was substantial enough to make it worth his time. But even if the reward had been less, he would still have gone after them.

Jeb Hollister and John Murphy were men who needed to be removed from society. Dangerous and uncaring of anyone beyond themselves, they were a menace. Wanted for bank robbery, train derailment, and attempted murder.

They were the kind of men he hunted down. The kind that harmed innocent people and never gave it a second thought. It was what he lived to do, and he was good at it. Bounty hunting was his way of repaying society for the crimes he’d committed in his youth.

He wiped sweat from his forehead and shifted in the saddle. The mid-day sun beat down on him, hammering him with oppressive heat that sucked the energy from man and animals. No trace of a breeze stirred. His horse sweated heavily on his neck, shoulders, and flanks, and the salty tang clung to the animal.

He rode on, relentless.

A large hawk circled lazily overhead. It let out a cry and moments later, another hawk joined it. The majestic birds flew close together, low to the ground. He liked raptors, all animals really. In a lot of ways, he respected animals more than people, with a few exceptions.

He looked down at Rusty, his faithful shepherd as he trotted just ahead of Major. Rusty never went too far without stopping and checking to make sure Jack was still there. Sometimes he thought Rusty was more intelligent than any of the criminals he tracked down.

He rubbed the back of his neck and strained his eyes to see beyond the hill they’d crested. And there, just a short distance away, he spotted two riders, one on a white horse. He’d caught up to them, almost.

The men stopped and the man on the white horse pointed in his direction. They’d spotted him. Now they would run.

Jack stopped Major and pulled his rifle from the scabbard. He aimed carefully and fired. The man toppled off the white horse and lay in the dirt under its hooves. He hadn’t taken a kill shot so that man was alive, just a bit incapacitated.

His companion spun his horse and galloped away as if demons were behind him and giving chase. He quickly disappeared into the distance. It seemed like criminals found themselves alone in the end whenever things went wrong for them.

The man who rode the white horse, Jeb Hollister, was the worst of the two of them. Hollister had tried to kidnap an eight-year-old girl for ransom once, and that was worse than anything Murphy had done. So, if he had to make a choice between them, Hollister had to be the one he brought in. Murphy could wait. He would catch him eventually.

He kept a sharp eye on the man as he rode toward his prone body. Perhaps he was going to try to trick him into thinking Hollister was dead. He’d seen men try it before. Or he might fire on him as he drew closer. Though there was a slug in his shoulder, it would be hard for him to actually lift a gun, much less fire it with any accuracy.

As he drew closer to the downed man, Rusty bolted ahead and pinned the man down before he tried to pull any shenanigans. Jack arrived and dismounted. He untied a short length of rope from his saddle and went to Hollister. Roll over.”

“Make me,” he said defiantly.

“You don’t want me to make you,” Jack said.

Jeb glared at him and didn’t move.

Jack took his boot and shoved him over, and he was none too gentle about it either.

He let out a yowl. “I’m an injured man,” Jeb said in a whining tone.

“That’s your fault,” Jack retorted. He jerked the man’s hands behind his back. Hollister let out another yowl. “You’re hurtin’ me.”

“Whose fault’s that?”

The outlaw grumbled something nasty under his breath while Jack bound his hands.

“How do you expect me to get on my horse with my hands like that?” Jeb asked.

“I’ll help you up. But I advise you not to try anything cute. If you do, my dog will be on you before you know what happened. You hear me?”

The man grunted.

“I’m telling you right now. You can sit your horse and not act like a fool and you’ll get to Silver Creek in an upright position. You try anything on the way, I’ll sling you over your saddle and tie you to it. Up to you how we get there. But I’m pretty sure you won’t like the second way very much.”

“You better hope I don’t get outta that jailhouse,” Jeb spat.

“Don’t worry, you won’t.”

Jack mounted his horse and took the reins of Jeb’s horse to lead it back. As he rode, his thoughts turned in a different direction. One that didn’t involve chasing and capturing outlaws.

He’d been using a small town as his base for the last few months, staying there waiting for Clara to contact him. He was almost positive she would. Eventually. At least, he hoped so. She was going to need help.

And he owed her father. So, he would help her with anything she needed. And the cattle drive was going to be a lot tougher than she imagined. She’d never been on one and had no idea what it was like. David had always depended on him to ride along as an escort. She couldn’t do it alone. That much was certain.

“You could let me go,” Jeb said from behind him.

“I could, but I’m not going to,” Jack replied. He wasn’t like that. He didn’t have a price.

“I can make it worth your time. I can give you money. A lot of it, Thornton. Yeah, I know who you are. An’ I know you ain’t a little angel either. I know you were a criminal when you were younger, and you’re on some goody-goody thing to redeem yourself.”

“Shut up,” Jack said.

“I can give you enough money that you’ll forget all about chasin’ outlaws. No need to get shot at or anythin’ else. Just make a deposit in the bank and you’re set.”

“Shut up. I’m not interested.”

“Come on, I can give you a lot more money than you’ll get for my hide.”

“I’m taking you to the sheriff. Maybe you can bargain your way out of jail.” More likely he’d get punched in the nose for trying to talk Sheriff Collins into taking a bribe.

He tried to tune out the man’s babbling. He was persistent in his attempts to buy his freedom.

They rode down a hill and the terrain was rough.

“Can you take it easy?” Jeb complained. “All that jostlin’ around is killin’ me.”

“Should have thought about the consequences of becoming a criminal.”

“Like you did?”

“Shut your cake hole.”

A slight breeze stirred up, and it felt good against his skin. Apparently, the outlaw was incapable of shutting up.

“Maybe it’s gonna rain. That’s gonna to be miserable for both of us.”

“It isn’t going to rain,” Jack said. Why was he even responding?

He switched his thoughts to David’s funeral, and a sharp ache fired up inside of him. He had been the only father Jack had ever known. Maybe not by blood, but that hadn’t mattered. He owed David everything. He would have ended up in prison, or possibly worse, if it hadn’t been for David. And he would never forget the debt he owed.

“You think about all that money,” Hollister said. “You don’t have to be workin’ for a livin’. You could invest that money in cattle and grow a sweet little operation. See, if I’m sittin’ in jail, I have no use for that money. Might as well give it to you for your kindness.”

“Except I have no kindness for men like you,” Jack said. “My heart is colder than a grave.”

“Now that’s a real shame,” Jeb said. “Maybe you’ll thaw out before we get back to town.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“I don’t count on anythin’. But no harm in suggestin’ things.”

“First sensible thing you’ve said. Now if you can just stick with it and shut up. I don’t need your suggestions.

Jack couldn’t get Clara’s teary green eyes out of his thoughts. He’d wanted to offer comfort at the funeral, but she was fiercely independent. And besides, she didn’t like him.

Then as if by divine inspiration, Jeb broke out into a hymn in an out of key, nasally voice.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Jeb’s singing was far, far worse than his conversation. It was going to be a long ride back to town.

Rusty growled and looked at the outlaw as if in total agreement with Jack’s assessment of Hollister’s singing.

***

The three-hour ride of non-stop awful singing had just about driven him mad.

When they finally rode into Silver Creek and down the main street, several people stopped to stare as Jack led a horse with a bound man in tow.

He didn’t know many people in Silver Creek yet, and he didn’t plan to stay any longer than necessary. He wasn’t there to make friends. All in all, it was a decent mid-sized town with decent people populating it. But he’d like to be on his way as quickly as possible.

He went straight to the sheriff’s office and dismounted. He tied the horses and dragged the outlaw off his mount.

“You’re killin’ my shoulder,” Jeb complained.

“Come on, let’s go.” He shoved the man ahead of him, Rusty following behind.

“Sit and stay,” Jack said to the dog once outside the sheriff’s office.

“Caleb, I brought you a present,” Jack said as he walked inside

“Jeb Hollister,” Sheriff Collins announced. “How many times did he try to buy you off?” he asked, looking at Jack.

“I lost count.”

The sherrif snorted.

“Then he tried to serenade me to death. Hopefully, he won’t treat you to the same pleasure.”

Sheriff Collins shook his head and chuckled.

“It was the longest three hours of my life,” Jack said.

“I see you plugged a hole in him,” Sheriff Collins added.

“Had to.”

“No you didn’t,” Jeb said. “You were nowhere near me when you did that.”

“You two were going to ride into the trees. I was tired of tracking you.”

“John Murphy?” The sheriff asked.

“They were together, but Murphy took off like a scalded dog when I put a slug in this one.”

Caleb dug in one of the desk drawers and pulled out a packet. He counted out the reward money. Then he opened the middle drawer and pulled out an envelope.

He handed Jack the money and the envelope. Looking to see who it was from, he noticed Clara’s name printed neatly in the corner. Finally, she’d contacted him. He didn’t want to open it there, so Jack tucked it inside his shirt pocket along with the stack of money. He would read it in the privacy of the room he’d rented.

“Good doing business with you,” Jack said.

“Yep,” Caleb replied. “Guess I’d better take this fool and get him looked at.”

“You won’t make it down the street before he tries to buy is way out.”

Sheriff Collins snorted. “Isn’t going to do him any good.”

“I know.” Jack turned and walked out the door.

“Come, Rusty.”

The dog jumped up, and with his tail wagging merrily, followed Jack to his horse.

Jack mounted up and headed for the boardinghouse, hurrying to the second floor as soon as he arrived and locked himself in his room.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper, scanning the short note.

Jack. I need help with the cattle drive. Are you available? Clara.

And that was it, not another word. He was a tad disappointed that she hadn’t written a little more. But at least she’d contacted him. He would ride out first thing in the morning. He could be at Willow Ridge Ranch in a little over an hour.