Through many tribulations we enter the kingdom of God
.
He hadn’t been a believer long, but he’d already learned the truth of that verse. Trials came to the just and the unjust, same as the rains did. Still, Hugh would wish away this particular heartbreak for the beautiful widow who’d given him work and food and shelter
She’d shown him nothing but kindness from the moment he’d ridden into the barnyard, even when she’d been leery of a stranger.
He shouldn’t be here. This was a private, sacred place, and he was trespassing.
He turned his horse and rode away but not in the direction of the barn. If he saw her now, he would say something it was better not to say. He would reveal that he knew something she didn’t want him to know. And so he rode east, toward the foothills and the copses of pines and birch and aspens. But he didn’t see the hills or the trees. His thoughts went back to Illinois, to the day he’d stood over another grave …
A bitter taste coated Hugh’s tongue. He’d spent so many nights, lying on his bed, practicing what he would say to his father when he saw him again. He’d wanted to ask why his father had betrayed him. How could a man do that to his own son? He’d let hatred boil to the surface more times than he could count in the years he was incarcerated. Sometimes he’d thought that the hatred and the need for answers to his questions were the only way he could survive.
But there would be no answers now. He wouldn’t be able to vent his fury. Sweeney Brennan was dead and buried. Had been long before his son finished serving time in prison. Time that should have been Sweeney’s to serve.
Hugh didn’t know who’d paid for the old man to be buried or the simple headstone etched with his name with the date of his death. It had to have been an act of charity, for Hugh’s father never had been able to hang onto money for long.
Now what?
Where was he to go from here? All that awaited him in Chicago was a life of crime. He could tell a quality pearl necklace from
dipped. He could easily distinguish between an expensive stone and cut glass. But what use were those skills to a man who wanted to stay out of prison?
God, how I hated him
.
With sheer force of will, Hugh dragged his thoughts back from that grave in Illinois, back from the bitter memories that had haunted him for too many years.
God
. He looked up as he reined his horse to a stop.
I’ve hated my father so long. Do I hate him still?
He didn’t hear a voice, but he knew the answer anyway. Yes, there were remnants of hate still lingering in his heart. And as surely as iron bars, hate would keep him imprisoned. If he wanted to be truly free, he would have to forgive Sweeney Brennan. Forgive it all.
“Help me, Lord. I can’t do this alone.”
Since neither Hugh nor Julia were experts with a rope, the branding of the calves took at least three times as long as it would have with experienced cowpokes in charge.
It was late on Wednesday afternoon, and Julia was weary beyond description. Sweat under her arms and along her spine caused her blouse to cling to her skin. Too much time in the saddle had made her backside numb. The muscles in her arms burned from the strain of wrestling with calves, some that weighed more than she did.
With an eye on the lowering sun, she took the iron from the fire and walked to where Hugh held down a calf. She paused, drew a breath to steady herself — oh, how she hated the smell of burning hair and flesh — and pressed downward on the hot iron. A few seconds later, the squalling calf was back on its feet and racing toward its mother.
Hugh stood. “You look about ready to topple over. Maybe we should finish up tomorrow.”
“I’m all right.” She wiped her forearm across her forehead. “There’s not that many more to do. I’d just as soon be done with it today.”
“Whatever you say.” He strode to his horse and stepped into
the saddle. But before he could go in search of the next calf, his gaze lifted beyond her and he pulled back on the reins.
Julia turned. A man rode toward them, coming from the direction of the house. She frowned. Now what? She’d gone all winter without having as many guests as had ridden into her barnyard in the past few weeks. She shaded her eyes, trying to see who this visitor must be. A moment later, she recognized him. Sheriff Noonan. What on earth could bring him out this far from town? It couldn’t be good.
“Mrs. Grace,” he greeted her.
“Sheriff.”
Lance Noonan’s gaze moved to the cattle. “Busy branding, I see.”
“Yes. I plan to drive some of the herd down to the Double T soon.”
He looked at her again. “You seem to have managed all right over the winter.”
“Did the best I could.”
He removed his hat and slid the brim in circles between his fingers. He appeared unsettled, and although Julia couldn’t claim to know the man well, it did seem out of character for him.
“Is there something you needed, Sheriff?”
“I … uh … it’s been made my unhappy job to inform folks out this way that the county land board’s voted to raise taxes.”
Alarm leapt in her chest. “How much more?”
“Some have doubled, I was told.”
Her heart plummeted. “Doubled?”
She turned her head, her eyes going to Hugh where he sat waiting on horseback. He must have seen the panic in her face, for he immediately nudged his horse and rode toward her. Strange, but having him near helped quiet the fear in her heart. She turned back to the sheriff.
He didn’t seem surprised to see Hugh, which meant others in town had been talking about her new hired hand. No surprise there. Gossip rode a fast horse. “Sheriff Noonan, this is Hugh Brennan. Mr. Brennan, this is Sheriff Noonan from Pine Creek.”
Hugh dipped his chin in greeting but said nothing.
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Brennan.” To Julia he said, “I’d best be headed back to town. It’s getting late.”
“Thanks for bringing the news.”
He set his hat on his head again. “Wish it wasn’t more bad news, Mrs. Grace.” He remounted his horse, then bid farewell and rode out.
“Bad news?” Hugh asked after a long silence.
“Very bad.”
Double the taxes
. The momentary peace vanished and fear came rushing back. She swung into the saddle. “We’ll finish the branding tomorrow.” Then she cantered Teddy toward the house, her heartbeat racing faster than the horse’s hooves.
Teddy had barely stopped before she slipped from the saddle, taking only a moment to wrap the reins around a rail of the corral. Then she hurried into the house and into her bedroom.
Unlike the simple box that held her keepsakes, the money box was made of metal, had a lock and key, and was hidden from view. A real thief would find it easily enough, she supposed, but thieves weren’t her problem. Money was. Her taxes raised and possibly doubled!
After taking the money box from the drawer, she set it on the bed, unlocked it, and opened the lid. Inside was what little cash she had left. The sale of the cattle would bring enough to pay what she’d expected her taxes to be and to see her through the coming year. The only way to pay the higher taxes would be to sell more of the cattle. But a rancher could only cull a herd so much before they started losing ground, before the cows couldn’t produce enough calves to sell in future years. How long could she hang on? Until
the next tax payment was due? Until the one after that? And what if her taxes were tripled next time?
Lord, what am I to do? I don’t know enough. I’m not smart enough. When will this end?
Hugh’s first instinct when he saw the sheriff was to throw his few belongings into his saddlebags, turn his horse west, and start riding. Fast. As with attorneys, he didn’t find much to like about most lawmen. But Sheriff Noonan’s bad news had been for Julia, not him, and the lawman hadn’t seemed much interested in the hired man. Which suited Hugh fine.
After the sheriff left and Julia returned to the house, Hugh dismounted and kicked dirt on the branding fire. He waited until the coals cooled before he too rode back to the house. In the barnyard, he found Teddy, still wearing saddle and bridle, tied to the corral. Very unlike Julia not to tend to her animals first thing.
Hugh’s unease grew as he walked to the front porch, stopping in the open doorway and calling, “Julia?”
It was a short wait before she appeared. A look of helplessness was stamped on her face, and it tugged at his chest. One more reason he should ride out of here, he supposed, and one more reason that he wouldn’t. He knew what it was like to be in trouble with no one to help him. He didn’t want her to experience more of the same.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.
“No. There’s nothing. Unless you know something more about cattle ranching than I do.” The attempt to laugh off what troubled her fell flat.
“‘Fraid not.”
“If you’ll put Teddy away for me, I’ll get something started for our supper. I fear it’ll be plain fare tonight.”
He wanted to do more for her than just take care of her horse, although for the life of him, he didn’t know what that could be. Might help if she would tell him exactly what bad news the sheriff had brought to her. She must have decided it was none of his business. And it wasn’t. He’d best try to remember that.
Hugh took his time with the horses, brushing and rubbing them down, holding the feed bucket and talking to them as they ate their serving of grain. Then he turned them into the paddock north of the barn to graze. Julia’s black gelding tossed his head, kicked up his heels, then raced to the end of the pasture where he trotted back and forth along the width of the fence. A short while later, Hugh’s horse mimicked Teddy’s actions.
There’s no place I’ve been that’s prettier than right here. Look at it
. His eyes lifted from the paddock and horses to the majestic mountains and trees and a grand expanse of blue overhead.
Lord, this world must’ve been something in Eden before Adam ate from that tree. Sure must’ve been something. Too bad we ruined it
.
He turned his back to the fence, leaning against it, and his gaze fell upon the house.
After several weeks on Sage-hen Ranch, he felt comfortable with the chores he performed every day. To his surprise, the work appealed to him. It left him tired at the end of the day, and it gave him a sense of satisfaction, as if he’d accomplished something that mattered. For a man who’d found it nearly impossible to find honest employment after his release from prison, that was a good feeling. But would he feel that way if he was doing the same work for someone other than Julia Grace? He wasn’t comfortable with the question. He was even less comfortable with the answer.
Probably not
.
Years ago, Hugh had learned to guard his emotions. Nothing good happened to him when someone else was able to see what he felt. But there was something about Julia that made him forget to
be careful. It was more than just the desire to keep himself aloof. More even than the protectiveness he felt for her. More … but what exactly?
Whatever it was, he’d never felt it before, and he’d lay odds he shouldn’t feel it now.
He pushed off the fence and walked into the barn. When his eyes adjusted, he found Bandit lying on the hard-packed dirt floor, just outside of the stall where the cat and kittens resided.
“Bet you’re making her nervous, fella.”
Bandit sat up, as if to give Hugh a better way to stroke his head.
Another new experience, making friends with this spaniel. As a boy, he’d known other kids who owned dogs, but the Brennans had been too poor for a pet. Hard enough to feed the members of the family without adding an animal to the mix. And a man without a job or roof over his head, as he’d been since his release from prison, had no business owning one either. But it pleased Hugh, all the same, that Bandit had given him his approval. At the thought, he chuckled. He wasn’t sure what it said about him, that he was pleased by a dog’s acceptance. Maybe that he’d set his standards mighty low.
After a quick glance into the stall at the feline family, Hugh strode toward the house. Once again he paused at the open door. Once again, the mistress of the house was nowhere in sight. “Julia?”
Soft sounds came from the bedroom, then, “Just a moment.” He heard something close — a door to the wardrobe? a drawer of the dresser? — and a few moments later Julia came out of the bedroom. “Sorry,” she said, flipping the long blond braid over her shoulder. “I’ll get started on our supper right now.”
“Anything I can do to help?” He meant more than helping with the meal and hoped she might understand that.
“No. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
There was no getting around it. He’d been dismissed. Again.
All right. So be it. She didn’t have to clobber him over the head with a skillet to know she didn’t want to tell him what worried her.
So why did he have to fight the urge to enter the house, take her in his arms, and promise that everything would be all right?
It frightened Julia, how much she wanted to turn to Hugh for help. But she couldn’t. She mustn’t. She had to learn to do this on her own. She had to run this ranch without help, make the decisions, no matter how difficult they might be. If she turned to any man now … If she turned to
this
man now …
She went into the kitchen and put a skillet on the stove. When she looked up again, Hugh was no longer standing in the doorway. That was good. Lately, she didn’t seem able to think clearly when he was around. And perhaps that was a far greater danger than the raised taxes on this land.
The taxes.
Would it do any good if she went to the county land board and pleaded her case? No. Probably not. No, she would simply have to sell enough cattle to pay the higher taxes. And she would have to let next year take care of itself.
“Heaven help me.”
The more Julia thought about her money problems, the more confused she felt, and as much as she wanted to, she wouldn’t allow herself to discuss her concerns with Hugh. She was already counting on him in more ways than she’d intended when she hired him. But she had to get advice from someone, and as had been the case for many years, that someone would be Rose.