High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (8 page)

Sid Snow had one boot propped up on the bottom rail of the corral and a blade of grass protruding from his mouth.

Conner slid from the back of his mare and looped her reins around the top pole of the corral as Sid looked up and gave him a hearty hale.

Grinning, Conner accepted Sid’s handshake. “Whatcha doin’?”

Sid shrugged. “Jus’ killin’ grass.”

Conner laughed as he took in the mud beneath Sid’s feet. “No grass to kill around here, Sid.”

Sid lifted his boots, one at a time. “Guess it worked.” Conner laughed.

“You’re just the guy I’d hoped to see, though,” Sid said.

“Oh?”

“Some of the fellows was thinkin’ this’d be a mighty fine day for a race.”

Conner’s heartbeat quickened. The last time they’d raced he’d beat Sid by head and shoulders only. This time he’d beat him by a full length. “You sure your ego can handle another race against me and my mare?”

Sid tipped his head back for a quick laugh before arching a brow in Conner’s direction. “You sure you can handle losing to me in front of my sister?”

Conner swallowed. So Tilly
was
in town. He’d wondered about that.

Hands resting on his hips, he scuffed the toe of one boot through the mud of the street. “Maybe when I beat you, she’ll finally notice that I exist.” He looked up hopefully at Sid.

Sid chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. “She knows you exist, pal, believe me. I’ve seen the way she looks at you and it’s not a look she offers to any other guys who’ve come callin’.”

Conner’s movements stilled. “Other guys have come calling?”

Sid didn’t answer that. “I’ll let everyone know the race is on. Plenty of ’em will want to lay money against you.”

Conner snorted.

Sid grinned. “Meet me at the stand of spruce trees the other side of the hill. Finish line will be drawn in front of The Bucket of Blood.”

Conner nodded and, as Sid walked off, he looked across the street. Tilly Snow stood in front of Hahn and Freid’s General Store, her dark eyes drilling into him. He could have sworn a lasso had just snagged his heart and given it a good tug. Standing there in her summer yellow dress, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He allowed a slow grin to spread across his face and pushed the brim of his hat further back on his head with one finger. She smiled softly, looked down at the boardwalk, then glanced back up at him.

At his elbow, someone cleared their throat. Conner glanced over his shoulder. It was Tom Roland, the banker. He looked back to the store front. Tilly was just disappearing inside. He sighed and turned toward the man. “Hello, Mr. Roland. How are you today?”

“Well now, that will depend a lot on you, son.”

Conner’s insides curled. What could this be about? There was no doubt that Roland held clout in the area, but Conner was nobody. What could Roland want with him? He waited in silence.

“Odds are three to one in your favor.”

That didn’t surprise Conner. He’d beat Sid’s horse several times, and that news was sure to have made its way amongst the gamblers. He didn’t care about the odds. In fact, his dad would skin his hide if he ever heard that Conner had run in a race where bets were being placed. He said nothing.

“Couldn’t hurt for you to just slow up a little. Let Sid take this one. Sure would make several of us happy, and I’m sure there’d be a little something in it for you.”

Conner felt revulsion coil up inside him. He spit on the ground, glanced up at Roland’s fleshy face, and without a word gathered up his mare and stalked off toward the starting line. He didn’t care how powerful the man was; his integrity wasn’t for sale.

At the starting line, he swung into the saddle and stretched his hand out to Sid with a grin.

Sid arched his brows as he clasped his hand. “Someone told me Tom Roland’s got 2,000 dollars ridin’ on this race. And he bet it on me. Now ain’t that strange? He ain’t the only one either. Cox is in town, and word has it he’s been braggin’ about how he’s soon gonna have the money to buy up half the county.”

Conner swallowed hard. Neither man was one to make an enemy of. Still, it went against every fiber of his being to give into bullying. And then there was Tilly. He smiled suddenly, decision made. “Don’t let her tail hit you in the face now.” He bent and patted his mare’s neck affectionately.

Sid laughed good-naturedly. “I’ll be waitin’ for you at the finish line,” he said. But there was worry in his eyes.

Conner knew the feeling.

The gun sounded, and he dug his heels into the horse’s side, leaning forward with practiced ease. He loosened his grip on the reins and let her have her head. The wind slashed past his face. Oh, how he loved the feel of the power rippling beneath him. His mare’s breath puffed out in white clouds as he urged her onward. Heartbeat and hoof-beat pulsed as one.

Sid’s horse lagged a full length behind as they rounded the corner onto Main Street and headed for The Bucket of Blood at the far end. The thud of each hoof against the hard-packed ground felt like a shout of victory! Sid gave it his all. Conner could hear him urging his horse onward.

But when they crossed the line, Conner’s paint was a full stride ahead.

Conner slowed his mare, his breath frosting the air before him as he laughed with the exhilaration of the win. He turned back toward the crowd gathered at the finish line. Tilly’s eyes twinkled as she glanced back and forth between him and Sid. He tossed her a bold wink. Her face reddened and she looked down. A man stepped in front of her, blocking Conner’s view. He scanned the rest of the crowd.

Mrs. Trent was there, her lips pressed together, one hand clutched to her throat. He guessed she was none too happy with him racing.

Ron stood next to her, his arms crossed, an expression on his face that Conner couldn’t quite read. He was staring across the crowd. Conner pulled to a stop and followed Ron’s gaze. Roland. Face red and fleshy jowls flapping as he snapped at the man next to him. A tall, slim man with a handlebar mustache that Conner remembered seeing with William Harpster on the day Mr. Trent had died.

Conner sighed and glanced back at Mrs. Trent, for the first time realizing there might be consequences to others besides himself because of a little horse race, his cursed pride, and the beautiful Tilly Snow.

5

Jason smiled at Gram as he helped her rise from her seat at Sky and Brooke’s table. She raised a shaky hand to his cheek and her faded blue eyes glistened as she spoke. “It is so good to have you home, my boy.”

Jason pulled her into a gentle embrace, knowing she meant more than just his physical presence. It had broken her heart when he had turned his back on the Lord. She had prayed every day that he would return to the loving arms of his Savior and now that he had, Jason knew she prayed for him still.

It was Sunday, and the family had all gathered at Sky and Brooke’s place. Crowded was an understatement in their tiny home, but the fellowship was wonderful. Remembering the long, lonely hours riding herd as the trail boss to Dodge City, Jason felt especially blessed to sit in the company of loved ones.

He dropped a kiss on the top of Gram’s gray hair. “It’s good to be home, Gram. And it’s great to be at peace with Jesus again.”

Gram patted his arm and gripped the handle of her cane more firmly as she tottered toward the sitting room where the others had already gone.

“Come on. Let’s go sit with the others. You won’t be here long, so you better enjoy everyone’s company while you can.”

Jason smiled as he moved slowly beside her. “I won’t be here long?”

“No.” She sounded self-assured. “You’re young, and there is nothing to keep you here now that Marquis has her Jeff.”

“Well, I thought I might stay here and take care of you for a while.”

Gram stopped abruptly and banged her cane forcefully on the wooden floor. “Don’t you dare waste your life on this old woman! I can take care of myself just fine.” Her mouth set into a stubborn line as she narrowed her snapping blue eyes in his direction.

Worry tightened Jason’s chest as he took in Gram leaning heavily on her cane. He wished he could believe her, but it seemed she had weakened even in the last couple of months while he’d been gone. “Well, let’s not worry about that today.”

Gram waved a hand at him as she continued her shuffling gait into the living room. “Today’s as good a day to worry about it as any. Besides, you need a wife, and there is no one in this little town for you.”

Jason decided to bait her. “There’s Julia Nickerson. She’s fine looking.” He winked at Sky, who was seated next to Brooke on the couch. Rachel and Sharyah, Sky’s mother and sister, had insisted that she sit and relax while they cleaned up after the meal.

Sky grinned while Brooke shook her finger at him as though he were a naughty little boy.

Gram, halfway down onto the couch, struggled back up to her feet. Her pallid eyes sparked a darker blue as she looked up at her grandson. “Don’t you even tease this old woman about something like that! I didn’t pour my life into you so you could grow up and marry that heathen Julia Nickerson.” A twinkle jumped into her eyes as she added, “Poor girl.”

Everyone in the room laughed out loud. Julia Nickerson was anything but penniless. Her parents owned half of the businesses in town, and she was just about as spoiled as could be. She’d had her eye on the Jordan boys since they were in grade school. Whenever Jason wanted to get Gram’s goat, he would bring up Julia.

“Julia Nickerson, hmmph,” Gram huffed as she and Jason sat down. “Hand me a section of that newspaper.” When Jason complied, she snapped it open with venom and lifted it to her face, but not before Jason saw the smile she was trying to hide.

Jason eased his legs out in front of him and leaned back, closing his eyes in relaxation. Rachel and Sharyah entered the already crowded room and found seats. Jason listened contentedly to the gentle buzz of conversation around him. Sky and his brother, Rocky, were discussing the arrest they’d made earlier in the week with their father, Sean. Rachel, Sharyah, and Brooke chatted about the latest dress fashions and whether or not Brooke and Sky had decided on baby names yet. And Marquis and Jeff sat in the corner talking and laughing in whispers. Jason smiled…now able, after having recovered from his initial shock, to be happy for his sister. She deserved someone wonderful in her life.

Slowly the buzz of conversation became a distant murmur and Jason settled deeper into the cushions, intending to take a nap. But Gram took a sharp breath and started mumbling to herself.

Jason slowly opened his eyes and glanced at her.

She pulled the print closer to her face, read something, and then dropped the paper into her lap, staring out the window for a minute.

Jason had just decided that whatever had caught her interest must not be too important and closed his eyes again when she jabbed him with her elbow.

“I’ve found you the perfect job.”

With a sigh of regret over his foiled afternoon nap, Jason sat up, rubbed his face, and stretched his arms over his head. “What?” he asked on a yawn. “Look here.” She jabbed a gnarled finger at an ad in the paper.

Jason took it from her and read the short blurb she’d indicated.

Spouse deceased. Need ranch manager willing to work for little pay until ranch gets back on its feet.

Contact Nicki Trent of the Hanging T, Farewell Bend, Oregon.

“Farewell Bend? Gram, that’s on the other side of the Cascades.” The paper rustled as he handed it back to her.

Gram patted his arm. “You pray about it, my boy. If God wants you there, He will make a way.”

“What’s on the other side of the Cascades?” Suddenly the whole room was listening to his and Gram’s conversation.

Gram’s voice held a tremor of excitement when she answered, “There is an advertisement for a ranch manager in the paper today. Somewhere near Farewell Bend. I was just telling Jason that I think he should take the job.”

Jason settled back into the cushions, refusing to give up on the prospect of catching a little sleep, yet knowing he was bucking the odds. He spoke with his eyes closed, hoping everyone would get the hint. “I wouldn’t be able to go until the spring thaw, Gram. And by then someone from that side of the mountains will already have the job.”

Jeff, sitting across the room, cleared his throat. “Maybe not.”

Every eye in the room turned on him in question. Jeff glanced at Marquis and put his arm around her protectively before he spoke. “I haven’t even spoken to Marquis about this yet, but late last evening I received a wire from the school in Portland. They want me to personally see to it that a noctograph reaches Prineville, which if I remember correctly is only about thirty miles from Farewell Bend.”

“Jeff?” Marquis laid a hand on his arm. “You have to leave?”

“I’ll try to make the trip as short as possible.” Jeff squeezed her hand.

Jason sat back up and cast a frown at the newspaper in Gram’s lap. “How are you to get there?”

“The Blind School has its own coach. We would head north to pick up the noctograph and the coach in Portland. From there we would head east through the Columbia Gorge, then south through The Dalles and down to Prineville. That way we wouldn’t have to cross any mountain passes. After that, though, you would be on your own.” His face softened and he turned to look at his bride. “I have someone to hurry home to.”

Even though Marquis couldn’t see his face, the two became lost in one another’s presence. Jason, noting his sister’s contented smile as she reached up to trace her fingers across Jeff’s face, felt irritated at their sentimentality.

Jason turned to Gram. “I don’t know, Gram. It says, ‘Willing to work for little pay until the ranch gets back on its feet.’”

Gram laid a gnarled hand on his cheek. “You’re thinking in the flesh, my boy. Since when have you ever needed anything more than a roof over your head and some food in your belly?”

“Yeah,” Sky pitched in helpfully, “I’m sure this ranch at least pays that much. Of course, you might have to live in a cave somewhere and hunt your own food.”

Brooke reached over and playfully smacked Sky’s arm.