Gunpowder Tea (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) (22 page)

No question, the lady had gotten under his skin. The thought made him wince.
Not good, not good at all.

Ruckus was as good as his word. By late that afternoon, Aunt Bessie’s nephew Michael had installed locks on the ranch house doors.

“There you go,” he said, handing Annie two keys. “One is for the front and one for the back. You only need the keys to open the door from the outside.” He showed her how to turn the inside bolt to lock and unlock the door.

“Are these the only keys?” she asked.

“Yep, so you better not lose them.” He stooped to gather his tools and dumped them into a wooden box one by one.

Dressed in overalls, his hair uncombed and a two-day growth of stubble on his chin, he looked nothing like he had the other night. He even smelled different; instead of bay rum he smelled of tobacco, horses, and heated iron.

“Michael, I couldn’t help but notice that you sometimes keep rather late hours.”

He looked up from beneath the brim of his hat, his cheeks stained red. His scarlet face spoke volumes in Michael’s favor. Certainly no one as daring as the Phantom would blush.

“Did Miss Walker say something?”

“No. She doesn’t know you’ve been keeping late hours.”

Michael studied her. “I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep.”

“You didn’t. I was already awake. But I am curious as to who is keeping you up all hours of the night. A young woman, I imagine.”

He gave her a shy grin. “What makes you think that?”

“I can’t think of any other reason why a man would wander around at night doused in bay rum.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Her name is Charity, Charity Chase. I’m sure you’d recognize her if you saw her. Not only is she the prettiest gal in church, she reads all my stories and poems.”

Annie couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “I would like very much to meet her.”

A frown erased his silly grin. “I’d rather you not mention this to
my aunt. She’s not particularly fond of Charity and doesn’t believe a man is capable of picking his own wife.”

That sounded like Aunt Bessie, all right. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word.”

He tossed a screwdriver into his toolbox with a clunk and snapped the lid shut.

“Michael, when you come home late at night, have you noticed anything strange?”

“Strange?” He stood with his toolbox in hand. “No. Can’t say that I have. Why? Have you?”

“Every so often I see a light east of here, but everyone tells me there’s nothing out there.”

“Far as I know, there isn’t.” He shrugged. “The desert can sure be deceiving at times. I’ve found some quartz out there. Some copper too. Could just be moonlight reflecting off rocks.”

“Yes, that’s a possibility,” she said.

“Anything else you need?” he asked.

“No, Michael. Thank you. That’s all.”

Annie’s official training began early that Monday morning. Miss Walker insisted she no longer needed a nursemaid and that it was time Annie learned the ropes if she had a mind to ever become a rancher.

Annie was given a brown mare named Caper. The horse had a thick mane and a star on her forehead. She also had a gentle disposition.

“We’ll see how you do with Caper before we put you on a horse with more gumption,” Ruckus said.

“I can handle any horse you give me,” she said.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He stood over her like an old mother hen while she saddled her horse and mounted.

“Well, what do you know?” he said with a nod. “You’d be surprised how many women are helpless as a cow in quicksand around horses. One of Miz Walker’s past heirs didn’t know how to ride nothin’ but sidesaddle. A steer sees you on one of those cockeyed saddles, he’s likely to laugh his hide off.”

Holding on to the reins, she grinned down at him. It felt good to be on a horse. Riding with the ranch hands afforded her a chance to observe and perhaps get to know them better. A person could tell a lot about a man when he didn’t know he was being watched.

She adjusted her hat’s stampede string. Miss Walker insisted she dress properly in a divided skirt and man’s shirt, and told her to take whatever she needed from the wardrobe.

It took needle and thread to make Miss Walker’s clothes fit and a snip with scissors to create a false pocket for her weapon. Though all the ranch hands packed guns, she had no intention of letting anyone know she did too.

Ruckus raised his arm and gestured for Branch. Branch rode over on a black steed.

“Miss Beckman,” he said with a slight dip of his head.

“You two stay with me,” Ruckus said. “Still got some soon-to-be mamas out there. Keep your eyes and ears open for any of ’em in distress and we’ll pull ’em in. Let’s go.”

Stretch and Wishbone took up the lead and the others fell in line. They followed cattle trails across the desert, kicking up dust and sending prairie dogs diving for cover.

Ruckus explained the different cattle. “That’s a weaner,” he said, pointing to a young grazing bovine. “He and his mama recently parted company. And that there is a first-calf heifer.” He pointed to
a brown-and-white animal whose sides stuck out like saddlebags. “Looks like she’s about ready. Heifers about to give birth are called springers.”

Ruckus’s depth of knowledge amazed her. He knew his cattle like most people knew their children. He had the observation skills of a private eye and only his trusting nature made him unsuitable for the job.

“What you see out here is God’s hand at work,” he said.

She glanced at his profile. “Do you ever have doubts?” she asked. “About God?”

He glanced at her. “I reckon everyone has doubts.”

“There’s so much I don’t understand. Like, for example, why God allows evil to exist.”

Whenever she asked such questions of her pastor in Chicago, he made her feel guilty.
“You must have faith, child.”
That was his answer for everything.

“If God was small enough to understand, I reckon He wouldn’t be big enough to worship,” Ruckus said.

She smiled. “You should have been a preacher, Ruckus.”

His expression grew serious. “I would have been if it weren’t for my feet.”

She blinked. “Your feet?”

He nodded. “Years ago I appeared before a church committee in Texas and asked to be considered for the preacher job. Back then you didn’t need no special training. All you needed was a call from God. The committee quoted Romans 10:15, which talks about the beautiful feet of those who preach. Then they made me take off my boots, took one look at my ugly dogs, and sent me on my way. Fortunately, my son has his mother’s feet.”

Annie shook her head. “I never heard anything so ridiculous.”

“Ignorance of God and the Bible ain’t unusual. The world is full of misinformed Christians.” Ruckus shrugged. “Anyway, who needs a pulpit to preach? I can do all the preachin’ I want from right here in my saddle.”

He sounded optimistic but she detected a note of regret. “Maybe this is what God wanted you to do all along.”

“Maybe so. Maybe so,” he said, his voice wistful.

Stretch called to him and Ruckus galloped away. Without Ruckus’s ongoing commentary, it was even harder to ignore Taggert, who rode just ahead. Her gaze swept across his broad shoulders and strong back. He looked perfectly relaxed and in tune with his horse, yet he managed to exude a restless power that both excited and intrigued her.

He looked over his shoulder. Heat rushed to her face but she forced herself not to look away. He reined in his horse, allowing her to catch up to him.

“How are you enjoying the . . . scenery so far?” he asked.

She glared at him. He couldn’t possibly read her thoughts, could he? “I’ve seen better.”

He grinned and her heart skipped a beat. There should be a law against handsome thieves.

“Are you referring to GTF?” he asked.

The reference to her “God the Father” file startled her. If only he knew . . .

“No one can even come close to GTF,” she said. “Especially you.”

Ruckus stopped ahead next to an enormous steel windmill. “All right, men. Spread out.”

Taggert flashed his white teeth. “I believe he means the lady too.”

“I know what he means.” Tugging on her reins, she pulled away from him and turned her horse in Stretch’s direction. If anyone
could still her rampant thoughts, it was the lanky cowpuncher and his tall tales.

Away from the others, Caper showed more spunk, but the mare had a smooth, even gait and needed very little direction.

Annie pulled alongside Stretch’s gelding. He gave her a nod and pointed to a calf wobbling on spindly legs. “Can’t be more than an hour or two old,” he said.

She had no fondness for cattle, but the young ones never failed to make her smile. The mother eyed them with suspicion, then nuzzled her calf with her nose as if trying to steer him away from them.

Annie waited until they were a distance away from mother and babe before asking her question. “I heard that some of the married men live in cabins.”

“That’s right. Why? You planning on getting married?”

“No, it’s just that sometimes at night I see a light.” She pointed in the general direction.

“Ruckus is the only married man, and his cabin is that way.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Then what do you think I saw?” she asked.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Maybe you saw the Red Ghost.”

She should have known Stretch would launch into one of his tall tales. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. Years ago there was something called a U.S. Camel Corps. The army imported the animals to help forge a way to California. After the war, the camels were sent to carnivals and zoos, but some have been spotted roamin’ this here desert, including the Red Ghost.”

She glanced around. Camels in Arizona? Could that possibly be true? “Why is it called the Red Ghost?” she asked.

He spit out a wad of tobacco juice. “Because of its red fur. Some
farmer supposedly shot him dead a few years ago. ’Course, there’re still camel sightings from time to time, but I haven’t seen any myself.”

“That still doesn’t explain the lights,” she said.

“I reckon not.” He tugged on his reins to study a group of cattle peacefully grazing. None appeared to be distressed.

Spotting Feedbag ahead, she pressed her knees in her horse’s sides and took off in his direction. Something caught her eye, a movement. She veered off the trail and over to a patch of sage.

A bovine staggered around dragging its hind legs. The animal appeared to be blind, or maybe just confused. Pressing her head against a boulder, the critter threw her head back, teeth grinding. She then fell to the ground with a strange strangling noise.

“Oh no!” Annie waved frantically for help and Taggert was the first to arrive. He quickly dismounted and leaned over the fallen animal.

He pulled off his hat and grimaced. He didn’t say a word. A shake of the head said it all.

Annie and the cowhands stood in a circle around a fly-covered carcass while Ruckus checked it over. Hats had been removed out of respect and everyone spoke in low tones.

So far that morning, sixteen dead cattle had been found, all within a short distance from the windmill the men called Job, after the biblical figure.