Beauty and the Beasts [Bride Train 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (10 page)

Work to do, and women to figure out. Or rather, one woman. Did she really want him to do more than kiss her? He groaned. Riding home with a full-fledged erection was going to be painful. He now knew what it felt like to hold Sarah, to feel her warm breasts peaking against his chest.

Work was going to be hell, but even worse, how was he going to sleep?

“For me?”

Oz nodded at Billy, still holding the coiled reata out. After getting Sarah’s free turnover that morning he’d gone down to Venner’s saddle shop and finished Billy’s present. With care and attention, it would last for a good chunk of the boy’s life.

“You earned it by taking care of my horse whenever I came to town.”

“I didn’t expect nothing, Mr. Cutler.”

Billy kept his hands behind his back, but Oz could see the yearning in the boy’s eyes.

“I know, but a man needs good tools.” Oz pointed his chin at the boy’s beat-up excuse for a rope. “Not even Jessie Elliott could rope a calf with that.”

The boy gulped and took the coil. He ran his fingers over the smooth surface. Oz clamped down on his heart at the boy’s look of awe. In his whole life, Oz had never got one present. He remembered wearing ragged clothes, always hungry with dirt hiding most of his bruises. Da spent too much money on drink to feed and clothe all his kids. Ma said nothing, knowing what would happen if she did.

But Billy’s pa took good care of him. Paddy O’Keefe paid Sophie so Billy could eat in her kitchen. Leftovers most likely, but that still filled a growing boy’s belly. The kid was a good one, always helping about town. He watched everything but kept his lip hobbled. How could Oz not help the boy?

“Try it out.”

For the next twenty minutes Oz coached Billy. The boy caught on quick and was soon roping the hitching post five times out of six. Then he coiled it up and held it out to Oz. He kept his eyes on his feet.

“Thanks, Mr. Cutler, but if Mr. Jennet sees me with this, he’ll say I stole it. It’s too good fer a kid like me.”

Oz crossed his arms. He shook his head. “Can’t take it back, Billy. I made it for you. It’s too short for me. No one but Jessie could use it.” That wasn’t true, but Billy wouldn’t know it. “Tell you what. Whenever I come to town, I’ll stop and see if you’re around. If you’re not working for your pa, I’ll stand out here in the street and give you lessons. That way, people will see you with me, and know I gave it to you.”

Billy bit his lip. He blinked and made himself busy, tying a thin rawhide strip around the reata to keep it coiled. He put the loop over his head and under one arm, pressing it to his body with his elbow. Oz wondered how long it would be before the boy would let it get more than a few feet from him.

A low whine made him look up. Peering around the corner of the jail was a mutt. The dog’s fur was so dirty it could be almost any color but black.

“Who’s that?”

Billy shrugged at the question. “He’s been hanging around the last couple days. I give him some of my supper last night, but I got nothin’ to feed him today.”

The dog crouched, ready to run, when Oz walked to his horse. He took a sausage from his saddlebag, the one he’d planned to have for supper, and came back to Billy. He unwrapped it and cut off a chunk. The dog lifted his nose and sniffed. Oz gave the chunk to Billy.

“You’d better eat this so he knows it’s not poison.”

Oz knew the dog wouldn’t care, but Billy could use some breakfast. Oz cut a larger hunk of sausage for the dog. He put one knee on the ground and held out his palm. The dog whined again and licked its lips, but fear was greater than hunger. Oz understood. He’d often missed supper, knowing coming home meant a beating with no guarantee of food.

“Kneel down so he might come closer,” he said to Billy.

When Billy knelt, the dog looked around and then took a step. Neither of them moved. The dog came just close enough to take the sausage out of Oz’s outstretched fingers with his front teeth. He backed up a couple of steps and lay on his belly, front legs stretched out. He placed the meat between his paws and watched them as he ate. Two bites and it was gone. He licked his chops and waited, not begging, but interested.

“That’s a good dog,” said Oz quietly. “See that he didn’t snatch it and run away? He belonged to someone.”

“He’s smiling,” whispered Billy.

“Sure looks like it.” Oz patted his thigh. “Come here, boy. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

The dog, tail wagging, came up to Oz. He sat, rested his jaw on Oz’s knee, and sighed. Oz ran a finger around the dog’s good ear and gave a bit of a scratch. The dog tilted his head to show where he wanted Oz to put his fingers.

“Looks like you got yerself a dog,” said Billy.

“He’ll give me some company when I’m home alone.”

The dog looked fairly healthy, though his coat was too matted to see if he had cuts underneath. Billy held out his hand and received a lick in return. Oz stood up, careful not to move too quickly. The dog backed away a bit, but waited to see what Oz did next.

“Keep practicing with that rope and you’ll be as good as Jessie.”

Billy snorted. “Things is plumb wrong when a woman’s good at man’s work.”

“Jessie worked just as hard as her brothers all her life,” said Oz. “She didn’t have a mother to show her how to be like a girl. The only thing what matters is that Jessie, and her Double Diamond men, are happy.”

Billy thought that over. “When I get married, I want a woman who kin take care of me, like my ma used to.”

“Then you work hard to be a man who can protect and provide for her. That’s what a man does for his family. Without a man, a woman has to do for herself. And that ain’t right.”

“Like Jessie did.”

“Yep.”

Billy looked across the street. “That’s what Mrs. McLeod does, too. And the Widow Dawes, and Miss Sarah. They ain’t got a man to take care of them.”

“That’s why we’re glad you’re out here keeping an eye on things, Billy. We know that, if anyone bothers the women, you’ll be there to help them.”

Billy straightened his spine. He nodded thoughtfully. “And now I kin rope anyone who tries to hurt ’em.”

“Ah, it’s better to call the sheriff.”

“I’m twelve now. I kin take care of a widow woman.”

Oz rested his hand on the boy’s thin shoulder. “I bet you can, William O’Keefe.”

Billy dropped his head. “Nobody but Ma ever called me that,” he whispered.

“You’re going to be a good man, Billy. Some day you’ll find a good wife. She’ll look you in the eyes, smile, and call you William.”

“Does Sarah do that to you?” He tilted his head and looked at Oz out of the corners of his eyes.

Oz glanced around to make sure no one was near. “She doesn’t think she needs a husband.”

“Then you gotta show her different.” Billy dropped his head and toed a hole in the dirt. “I heered about that kiss ya gave her. She’s sweet on you, and your pardners.”

“She is?” Oz had certainly felt her response to his kiss, but Gabe said she’d been pleasant, but cool, to him the other day. Luke was shocked when Gabe said he’d barely received a chicken peck in the dining room.

“Mrs. McLeod says Sarah has a hankering for the Circle C men. She’s trying not to show it because she don’t wanna get hitched to Mr. Frost.”

Oz exchanged a speaking glance with the young man. “We’ll see about that.” He walked to his horse. The dog followed at his heels.

“Yesterday I heard Mrs. McLeod tell Sarah you’d try again.”

Oz stopped and turned around. “And?”

“She turned pink and said you could try all you liked, she wasn’t going to change her mind about a weddin’.”

Oz put the rest of the sausage back in his saddlebag. He mounted up and settled himself.

“There’s a few things a man can do to encourage a lady to change her mind.”

Billy snickered. “You gonna kiss her agin’?”

“A gentleman never tells.” He checked that the dog was out of the way of his horse, and ready to go. “Keep practicing, Billy. I’ll be back in a couple of days to see how you’re doing.”

Oz walked the horse out of town, only speeding up to a trot when he was sure the animal could keep up.

“I’ll be kissing her more for sure. And if she likes that, I’ve got a whole lot more in mind.”

* * * *

The hotel kitchen door opened and Billy grinned at her.

“How hungry are you today, Master William O’Keefe?” Sarah asked the same question each day but got a different answer.

“Enough to eat a jack mule.”

“That’s pretty impressive.”

She laughed as she served him an adult portion of stew and added three biscuits. When he was done, he’d take a dinner pail to his father.

“I heard Sheldrake say he wants you,” said Billy. He stared at his stew, stirring it slowly.

“He can want all he likes. I’ll never have anything to do with him.”

Billy’s worried frown disappeared. “’Cause you belong to the Circle C.” He scooped up a piece of beef and blew on it.

“Let me make this clear, young man. I do not belong to anyone but myself. I kissed Mr. Cutler so others wouldn’t bother me.”

“The belonging is a man thing,” drawled Sophie, entering from the short hall to her rooms. “You kissed him, so you belong to him.”

“I am not a man’s property!”

“Be careful of Sheldrake, ma’am. He’s mean. He kicked that dog before Mr. Cutler took it home.”

“I wondered where it went,” said Sophie. “He’s a good man.”

“He said it’d keep him company at the cabin.” Billy looked at Sarah with sad eyes. “Oz is all alone when his pardners ride out.”

“Don’t you try matchmaking, Billy O’Keefe, or I’ll cut off your supply of tarts!”

“No, ma’am!” Billy looked at the cooling pastries, and then back to Sarah. “But he said a respectable gennleman could ask fer another kiss.”

Billy grabbed a tart and his father’s dinner bucket and hurried to the back door. Just before he opened it he looked back. “He also said gennlemen don’t tell. But I ain’t no gennleman, so I told ya!”

“Out, you rascal!”

Billy grinned at Sophie’s order and escaped. The hotel owner sank onto a bench, shoulders shaking. She had one hand covering her mouth but a snort gave her away.

“Go ahead, laugh,” groused Sarah. She slammed things around the kitchen while Sophie hooted.

“I think Billy’s half in love with you,” said Sophie, finally calming down. “And so are Gabe, and Oz. I’m not sure about Luke yet.”

“That’s lust, not love. All they want is a good worker and someone to warm their bed. Luke wants all that, plus sons to continue his precious name.”

Sophie waved Sarah’s grousing away. “You could do far worse.”

“You don’t have a man.” Sarah looked around the kitchen. “And you’re doing very well without. Why would I want one?”

Sophie sobered. She bit her lip. “I had a husband,” she said softly. “A very good one. He was twenty years older, but he was kind, had enough money to keep the wolf from my door, and took me far from bad memories.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sarah. She rested her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to insult you, or your marriage.”

“It’s just that I get so lonely,” said Sophie. “If I got friendly with any man, even the happily married ones, the mayor and banker would say I’m running a whorehouse and take my business away. I didn’t have any friends other than Lily and Rosa until Beth blew into town like a tornado. Women are good friends, but some nights I ache to have a man hold me.”

“But, I thought you liked being independent?”

Sophie shook her head. “Being independent means you’re responsible for everything.”

“But you’re free, in control of your own life!”

Sophie waved Sarah’s comment away. “I don’t control my life, and I’m certainly not free to do what I want. I don’t even control whether I get to eat breakfast.” She took Sarah’s hands in hers. “If you get the chance to marry a good man, or even better, three good men, then take it.”

Sarah pulled away. “Why should I go back to being dependent?”

“Not dependent. Never that. Not even independent. There’s something better.”

“Better than being independent? I don’t think so.”

Sophie held up her hands, palms up and fingers out. “Each of my hands is independent of the other. Push on them.”

Humoring her friend, Sarah leaned on Sophie’s hands, one at a time. Though Sophie was strong, Sarah could push each hand down. Sophie then clasped her fingers together, as if in prayer.

“Now try it.”

No matter how Sarah tried, she couldn’t move Sophie’s linked hands. When she gave up, Sophie opened them again.

“See, my hands have not changed. Each one is the same as it was before. But join them together and my strength is many, many times greater. That’s interdependence. Each hand can operate on its own, but together, they’re almost invincible.”

“What do your hands have to do with marriage?”

“You are one hand, your man is another. Each of you have strengths and weaknesses. Working together as a team, you’re both stronger. Your weaknesses are balanced by his strengths, and vice versa.”

“Only if he’s willing to work as a team.” Sarah sounded petulant, even to her own ears, but she didn’t like what Sophie was saying.

“Why do you think every ranch in the valley has three men working it? Each partner brings skills, abilities, and other qualities that the others may not have. Add the value of a woman and it’s even stronger.”

“I don’t know—”

“Maybe you’ll understand it this way.”

Sophie reached into the flour bin and scattered some on the table. She flashed a smile at Sarah and drew a triangle in the flour with her finger.

“Think of the Circle C ranch. Three men do the work required to survive, but they don’t think much about how to improve their comfort. It’s not worth the effort just for themselves. They don’t have children to pass on what they have accomplished. Their life is flat.” She pointed to the triangle.

Sarah thought for a moment. “Men live in a house. It takes a woman to make a home.”

“Exactly.” Sophie put three fingers on the table. The tip of each touched a corner of the flour triangle. “Add a woman as a base and you now have three upright triangles. The woman makes everything come alive. Not much is stronger than that. Having three husbands to share your life, as they share their workload with each other, makes perfect sense.”