The Rancher (25 page)

“Miss Abby?” Martha said as she peeked into the room.

“Come in, Martha.”

The older woman pushed open the door and walked in, carrying a bustled lavender gown with a rich purple shawl.

“Your father thought you might like something to wear to the party tonight.  He had a seamstress working all night to finish this for you.”

“Martha, it’s exquisite.”  Abby jumped up and took the beautiful creation from the

woman.   She put it up against her and began dancing around the room, twirling and moving about while the other two women were laughing at her sudden giddiness.

Martha motioned to someone behind her to come into the room.  Abby turned to see the ranch hand Jim’s burley frame marching through her door hauling a large wooden wash tub.   Bert and Davey followed, heaving buckets of steaming water in front of them.

“I thought you might want to clean up proper before we celebrate.   They’ll finish filling the tub and I want you washed before supper.”

“Oh, Martha. You are wonderful!  Thank you.”  Abby laid the dress on the bed and ran to hug the older woman, who

blushed under Abby’s appraisal.

“All right, now that’s enough. If you don’t get to washin’, we won’t get your hair dry in time.”  Martha set down a new bar of soap on the chair situated a few feet from the tub.  Then, she left, leaving the door open a crack behind her.

This would be the first party she’d attended since her mother died over six

years ago.  Even then, she’d always felt out of place at these kinds of parties.  Boys hadn’t ever wanted to dance with her and her dance card had always gone unfilled.  Sure they wanted to hunt with her or have her train their horses, but whenever she’d worn a dress to town, everyone had just stared.

This time it was different and she felt

giddy at the reason for the celebration.

She didn’t care if anyone stared.  Abbylooked at Lily when the last bucket wasemptied into the steaming tub.

“Don’t mind me. Take your bath. I’ll gohelp Martha in the kitchen and then we’llget you all dressed up nice for yourparty.”  Lily waved on her way out thedoor.

Abby ran to her dresser and opened thetop drawer.   Inside were two smallboxes.  She pulled out the one stuffed withcotton and layered with golden taffeta. Shehad purchased the box, just before hermother died, from a peddler who’d toldher it would make those around herbelieve she was a goddess.  Ambrosia,food of the gods, he’d called it. If ever sheneeded to feel like a goddess, it wastonight.

Opening the box, the soft sent ofcantaloupe filled her nostrils with sweetremembrance.   The last time she’dsmelled the aroma, her parents had justreturned from a cattle drive and on their

way home had stopped off in a small town called Rocky Ford for a few days where the melons grew.   Clara McCallister’s hair had smelled like that for days.  Abby relished the heady scent.

Abby inhaled deeply and then closed the box, pulling it close to her.

Once the men had finished filling the tub, Abby sprinkled some of the sweet smelling dust into the water.  She removed her clothing and allowed it to drop on the floor around her feet. Lifting one leg over the edge of the tub, she tested the water with her toe.   It was hotter than she’d

anticipated and she smiled in sweet expectation as she submerged herself into the aromatic warmth.

Cole opened the door to his newbedroom.   A warm, heavenly aromafloated in the air around him. He cursed,throwing his gloves down on the bed.  Ifthat is what she always smelled like, hedidn’t know how long he could keep hisdistance.

“Martha, I forgot to grab the soap.  Would you mind handing it to me?”

Cole jerked his head around to see avery naked Abby leaning against the backof an oversized wooden tub, a wet clothcovering her face and her hand extended. Her creamy bare shoulders peaked above

the bubble-laced water and her fire-blond tresses spilled over the side.

He spotted the soap sitting on chair just beyond the tub’s reach and with one stride was there. He picked up the misshapen bar of soap and placed it in her extended hand, backing away the moment his skin came in contact with hers.

“Thank you, Martha. What do you think Cole will be wearing at the party tonight?” she mused aloud.

Cole yanked his eyes away from the vision before him, desperate to keep his wits about him. He was strong, but still a man and there was only so much he could take.

He forced himself to walk away, tomove to the other side of the room where

his bag of clothes lay in the corner. He’d

packed a clean shirt that matched the cerulean blue paint in his artist tack and a pair of black slacks he usually wore for church on Sunday along with a stack of work clothes and he wondered what Abby would be wearing to the party.

He opened his mouth to answer her question, when the door thrust open.

“Abigail, you’ll need to have...” Martha flew in through the open doorway in a hurry, carrying a thick cotton towel.  She froze the moment she saw him.

Cole cleared his throat.

Abby pulled the cloth from her face and down into the water, over her chest. She sat up straight in the tub, staring at him.  Her cheeks, already flushed from the warm water, turned a hotter, darker red.

“I came in to get my clothes for the get-

together this evening.” Cole picked up his bag and nodded to both women and left the room.

Once outside, he did not stop until he reached the bunkhouse, where he was sure Raine would be changing.
 
This is going to be a lot harder than I expected
, he groaned.

“The axle’s been cut near clean

through,” Raine said after inspecting the overturned wagon.  “And one of the bolts is missing.”

Fresh cut wood, boxes of nails, and a large amount of other building supplies now lay strewn about an irrigation ditch and down a small hillside, lining the far side of the property.

“Davey’s arm is broken and his shoulder dislocated.  The fall gave him quite a blow to the head, but overall, the boy’s lucky to be alive.” Clay shook his head in disgust.

Cole looked over the damaged wagon and scattered supplies.  He’d just gone to the bunkhouse to dress for the party when the bloodied and staggering Davey had walked in and collapsed on the floor in front of Raine’s bunk.

“This wasn’t an accident, Clay.”  Cole looked meaningfully at his new father-inlaw. “Has anything like this happened before?”

Clay scratched his chin, brusque with new growth.  “This’ll be the third mishap in the last month or so.  They were far enough separated I didn’t want to believe

there was a connection.”

“Third?  Have you told anyone else?”  Cole inquired.

Clay shook his head.  “It’s really the fourth, I guess.  Forgot about the rattler Abby shot in the barn the other morning.”

Abby shot a rattlesnake?
 
Cole felt a new appreciation for his bride.

“Four  incidents  within  a  month?

Sounds like somebody’s up to no good.”

Raine stated the obvious.

All three men worked quickly to cleanup the mess that had been created in thefall.   Cole didn’t think the buckboard

would be salvageable, but there were a lot of supplies that needed to be gathered and carted back to the ranch.

“With everything that’s been going on, I thought it would be safer for Abby if she

went away for a while,” Clay stood up, took off his hat, and wiped his brow with the red handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

Cole threw a blanket roll and a sack of

wheat into back of the operational buckboard he’d driven from the ranch and

stopped to listen.

“I knew she wouldn’t go willingly, so I made her a bet.  I told her if she didn’t have a husband by Friday, I’d ship her off to her Aunt Iris in Denver, to each her how to be a lady and find a proper man.”

Clay snorted a breathy laugh. “I needed her to be safe.   But then, she up and married you.”

Cole lifted his eyebrows at the irony.

Raine pulled his canteen off his horse and walked over to join them.

“Listen, boys, I know my daughter and I didn’t want her to get mixed up in this. I used the first excuse I could think of.  I want her out of harm’s way. The less she knows about all of this, the better. But, as you may have noticed, my daughter has a will of her own.  She didn’t want to be

away from this ranch in Denver or anywhere else—“

“So she—“

“Married you,” Clay finished Cole’s statement with a chuckle.

Cole took the canteen from Raine, who held it out to him, and glanced from Clay to the mountain ridge that kept the SilverHawk from view.  He took a drink

of the cool water.

Abby certainly had taken it into her own

hands to get what she wanted.  He had to

admire that. But that didn’t explain why she’d had to resort to marrying just anybody.

“What about Carson?” Cole asked as he wiped the excess water from his lips.  “He said they were supposed to get married.   Something   about   being

expected.   Why didn’t she just marry

him?”

“Besides his obvious gentlemanly ways and kind demeanor, you mean,” Raine sardonically whispered next to him.

“I would never have allowed that.

Abby may not be the most feminine gal inthese parts, but she’s the most amazing

young woman.  She needs a man who’ll appreciate her… gifts.   I thought she’d found it once, love, a long time ago, but I’d misjudged his character and she paid

for it.  He up and left for Kansas, breaking her heart in the process.   She deserved better.”

“You mean, Alaric?” Cole asked as he handed the canteen to Clay.

“She told you about him, eh?” He took a drink.   “Well, he left and never came

back.  Good riddance.  It seems men don’t take too kindly to women who can shoot or ride better than they can.  You best not be leaving her, son.  We’ll just leave it at that.”

The look in Clay’s eye pierced through Cole with its somber warning and Cole nodded in affirmation. “Yes, sir!”

“Clay, you said this was the fourth incident,” Raine asked, changing the conversation back to the incident at hand.

“That we know of.”

“What else has happened?”

Clay sat down on a felled tree stump.  Cole and Raine followed suit and found something to sit on as they discussed.

“Well, at first we just thought one of the hands had left the stall unlocked.  The new kid, Davey, noticed one of my most prized studs had gotten loose.  Luckily, it didn’t take Caleb long to find him.  He spotted the horse up the ridge a bit and was able to coax him home without any incident.”  Clay reached down and picked up a small wooden box.   Its hinges were bent and broken from the fall, but the rest of the box was still intact.

“When I went out to check the stalls for

the other horses, I noticed three more were unlatched and the gate lock to the corral had been broken.”  Clay carefully

lifted the lid off the box and pulled out a velvety black pouch.