Pete (The Cowboys) (5 page)

“Can they survive a tough winter?” Pete asked.

“That depends on how tough.”

“I came along the Missouri and down the Yellowstone to the Powder,” Pete said. “The Indians say the signs are bad. They’re preparing for the worst winter within living memory.”

“We won’t survive anything like that,” Eddie said.

“Then round up everything you can and sell it.”

Eddie looked startled, but Belser looked shocked and angry. “I knew you were a fool. Those steers are fifty pounds underweight. They won’t bring what they’re worth.”

“They won’t bring anything dead,” Pete said.

“Uncle Carl wouldn’t have sold early,” Belser said. “You know what he used to say?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Anne interrupted. “How could he, being in Illinois all this time?”

“He always said the same thing,” Belser said, glaring at Pete. “I don’t think you know what it is.”

“He said never send a steer to market until both the weight of the steer and the prices on the market are as high as you think they can go,” Anne said.

Belser had been doing this all evening, tossing out things he seemed to think Pete ought to remember, trying to catch him. Anne had come to his defense from the beginning, answering Belser’s questions, often adding information to help fill in Pete’s knowledge of a past that wasn’t his own. Pete just sat there smiling and letting Belser get more and more angry. It didn’t surprise Pete that no one on the place seemed to like Belser. Pete was becoming more and more convinced Belser was responsible for Peter’s death. Pete couldn’t figure out any other reason he should be so certain Pete was an imposter.

“Selling now is a pretty big gamble,” Eddie said.

“I’ll ride out with you tomorrow,” Pete said. “We’ll decide then.”

“You’ve got no right doing anything like that,” Belser argued.

“He owns the ranch,” Anne said. “I can’t think of anybody who has a better right.”

Belser looked as though he was bursting to say something, but he bit his tongue. “You’ll have to tie him to the saddle to keep him on his horse. From what Uncle Carl said, he not only can’t stay on a horse, he’s afraid of them.”

“That horse in the paddock doesn’t look like the mount of a man who’s not very good in the saddle,” Eddie said, then looked angry at himself for defending Pete.

“Ten years can make a big difference,” Pete said to Belser. “A man can learn to do all kinds of things. Now,” he said, turning back to Eddie, “I want to hear more about this rustling.”

Pete listened carefully as Eddie outlined what had been happening over the last year. It seemed as though it had started as a small-time operation—a few steers now and again. But this summer it had turned into a regular problem.

While Eddie and Belser argued over solutions, Pete took stock of where he stood. Except for Belser, everyone at the ranch took him at his word that he was Peter. But sooner or later he’d foul up somewhere, and his deception would be discovered. There was no point in fighting it. It was going to happen. He had to figure out how to get as much done as he could before that happened.

He kept asking himself why he was doing this. Any sane man would have simply tried to stop Anne’s uncle from dragging her away. It would never have occurred to him to pretend to be her husband.

But having done so, Pete now found himself playing a false role. He was determined to save her, but he didn’t know how. So he had to keep up the pretense until he could find an answer.

“I want to see the books,” Pete said. He rose without waiting for Eddie to respond. “I’d like to know how we stand before I look at the herd.”

“You can’t wait to get your hands on Uncle Carl’s money, can you?” Belser asked.

“It’s his money,” Anne said. “Or have you forgotten Uncle Carl left the ranch to him?”

“How the hell could I forget anything like that!” Belser shouted. “It was supposed to be mine. He promised.”

“He only said you could have it if Peter didn’t want it. I heard him say over and over again that he wanted it to go to his blood kin, even if he didn’t think Peter deserved it.”

“It should have been mine!” Belser shouted. “I worked for it. I deserve it.”

“You’re not kin.”

“I’m his nephew.”

“Great-nephew,” Anne corrected, “on his wife’s side. You’re not blood kin. I heard him say that many times.”

“He paid you a better wage than the others,” Eddie said, “and he let you live in this house. You can’t think you’ve been treated badly.”

“I’ve been cheated!” Belser bellowed, his face purple with rage. “But I’ll have this ranch yet.” He pointed an accusing finger at Pete. “You wait and see if I don’t. And when I do, I’ll hang you from the nearest tree.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Eddie said as Belser stormed out of the room. “He’s always had a temper, but he’s never acted like this.”

“It’s because he was so close to getting the ranch and then it was snatched away from him,” Anne said.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, seeming to dismiss the problem. “We’d better get to those books,” he said. “If you want to check the herd, we’re going to have to get started early in the morning.”

“What do you think of him?” Dolores asked Anne. “From all the things I heard Carl say, I was expecting him to stumble over his own feet and keep well back from any horse or mule.”

“He’s very handsome,” Anne said. “And he’s grown very tall.”

Though Dolores Moreno was unmarried and eleven years older than Anne, they had formed a close friendship years ago, sharing confidences as a matter of course.

“I wasn’t talking about his size and appearance, though that’s a pleasant surprise as well. It’s not every orphaned gal who finds herself suddenly married to a rich man who’s handsome to boot.”

“I didn’t marry him because he would be rich,” Anne said.

“Everybody knows you’ve adored him for years. Folks also know you were desperate to escape your uncle’s plans to sell you to the highest bidder. Still, you’ve got to admit things look like they’re turning out remarkably well.”

Anne couldn’t deny that. From the moment she’d looked up to see Peter looking magnificent and twice as big as life, things had gone way beyond anything she’d ever hoped for. She’d never imagined Peter being able to stand up to her uncle or taking over the ranch as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Belser’s repeated insistence that he was an imposter didn’t bother Peter in the slightest. Peter was perfect, everything a girl could dream of in a husband.

And that was the problem.

The Peter she’d known all those years ago wasn’t perfect. He was nice and sweet and kind, and he never said any of the terrible things his brother and other people said. He comforted her when she cried, but he didn’t rescue her from danger.

He’d been only fourteen at the time, but his character seemed to have been formed. At least everyone else seemed to think so. Uncle Carl had been relieved when Peter and his father went back East. Gary had remained at the ranch. But when Gary was killed and Peter was the only heir, things changed. Uncle Carl’s determination to leave his ranch to his only blood kin never wavered, but he complained constantly that it would be Peter.

Whenever he was out of temper, he’ll say, “He’l lose everything I’ve spent my whole life trying to build up.” Anne had always defended Peter, but she couldn’t help fearing Uncle Carl might be right.

But the man who’d showed up to rescue her showed none of the shortcomings Uncle Carl had feared. He seemed a little unsettled by the circumstances, but no more so than any man walking into a strange situation. Give him two days, and Anne expected he’d have everything under control. She’d have a wonderful, wealthy, perfect husband and a secure, rosy future.

That was why Anne couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that, as much as she tried not to think about it, Belser might be right.

Her new husband was just too good to be true.

An hour later Pete emerged from the ranch office with an entirely different perspective on the situation. Carl Warren had been a very rich man. He could understand why Belser was so upset at losing the ranch. He could understand why Peter had given up the hardware store and come to Wyoming to take on a job nobody thought he could handle. He could understand why Anne was anxious to marry a man she hadn’t seen in years, a man who even as a child she must have sensed didn’t measure up to the challenges of the West. He could also understand why Bill Mason was so interested in the ranch. Carl had grabbed the best land in the area, nearly flat grazing land watered by creeks that flowed from the Big Horn Mountains and some timber-covered foothills. Those who came later got second-best. Anne and Dolores were still in the sitting room when he emerged from the ranch office.

“Did you find everything you need to know?” Anne asked.

“I found far too much to absorb in one evening,” Pete said. “I didn’t realize the Tumbling T was such a big ranch.”

“The biggest in this part of Wyoming,” Eddie said proudly.

“Do you want some coffee?” Dolores asked. “It won’t take but a few minutes to make more.”

“No. I’ve had enough for one night. I’ll think I’ll turn in.”

Dolores grinned. “I rather thought you would. After all, it is your wedding night.”

Pete had forgotten that, but it was clear from the white, frightened look on Anne’s face that she hadn’t.

“With all that’s happened today, I haven’t had time to give it much thought.”

“Anne has,” Dolores said, grinning. “She’s been thinking of nothing but this night for months.”

“I’ve been thinking of his coming,” Anne admitted. “A woman should always think of her husband.”

But not think of their first night in bed together, Pete finished for her in his mind.

“You’ll have to tell me where to sleep,” Pete said. “I’m afraid I don’t remember the house that well.”

“You’ll sleep in your Uncle Carl’s room,” Dolores said.

“My room is right next to it,” Anne said.

“Your
room is now your husband’s room,” Dolores said. “I’ve already moved your things.”

The last trace of color drained from Anne’s face. Pete didn’t know what was so frightening—he’d never considered himself very formidable—but Anne was clearly petrified of the idea of sleeping with him. He figured that despite the fact that she had adored Peter for years and probably thought herself half in love with him, she really didn’t know him. Now, brought face-to-face with a live, very real husband and told they were to share the same bed, she was reeling. She probably connected him with that disgusting pork rind who had tried to buy her. Pete didn’t think he was that bad, but he was older than this Peter fella.

“Come on,” Pete said, extending his hand to Anne. “You can help me unpack. I’m depending on you to keep Uncle Carl’s ghost at bay until I can prove I’m not such a good-for-nothing as I used to be.”

Chapter Three

Anne shrank from Peter’s outstretched hand. She’d looked forward to being his wife for the last several months, not only as something she wanted, but as the only way to save herself from her uncle, her chance to be something other than a piece of property to be handed from one man to another, to have a husband she could love, a home and family of her own.

She hadn’t realized until now that she’d continued to think of Peter as the boy she knew, grown up in size but still shy, sweet, and mild-mannered. It wasn’t just Peter’s body that had grown and matured. He was no longer the same person inside or out. He seemed so much bigger than she’d imagined, so much more virile, so much more intimidating. The idea of going into a bedroom alone with him frightened her. The idea of its being Uncle Carl’s bedroom petrified her.

“Don’t be shy,” Dolores prodded. “You’re a married woman now.”

“I don’t feel married. It all happened so suddenly.”

“It’s not half as sudden as being hauled off by Cyrus,” Dolores said. “He’d have wrestled you down in the dust before you’d gotten a mile from here.”

The truth of that statement didn’t make Anne feel any better.

“You can sleep in your own room tonight if that’ll make you feel better,” Peter offered.

Anne brightened immediately and opened her mouth to gratefully accept his suggestion.

“She can’t do that,” Dolores said. “Nobody will believe she’s married if she doesn’t sleep in your bed.”

“They won’t know,” Peter said.

“It’ll be all over the ranch by noon tomorrow. Belser would like nothing better. He doesn’t like Anne, and he hates you. It would support his argument that you’re not Peter and you didn’t marry Anne.”

“But I did,” Peter said.

“But you can’t prove it, not without those papers you’ve got to send for.”

“How will Belser know where we’re sleeping?” Peter asked.

“He’ll listen at the door,” Anne said. “If you don’t lock it, he’s liable to come in and look. He sneaks around the house, prying into everything when he thinks no one is looking.”

“Anybody who opens my bedroom door without knocking and being invited in is liable to get shot.”