High Desert Haven (The Shepherd's Heart) (9 page)

Jason grinned at Sky, but his thoughts turned serious.
Well, Lord, is this the place you have for me?

There was no answer. But as Jason moved throughout the week, try as he might, he could not take his mind off of the man who had lost his wife and needed someone to help him run his ranch. Every time he opened a newspaper he would see the ad. Whenever Gram looked at him, he could see in her eyes that she thought he should go. Marquis asked him twice if he had made a decision yet. And he even heard some people in the mercantile discussing the advertisement when he went to pick up some sugar for Gram.

Stepping out of the store, he leaned against a post on the boardwalk. Perhaps the Lord did want him there. He’d speak to Jeff and ask when they were leaving. The least he could do was check into the situation.
All right Lord, if the job is still open when I get there, I’ll take it. I just hate to leave when Gram seems to be getting old so quickly. Help me to know if I’m doing the right thing
.

As he walked into the house and set the sugar on the counter Gram glanced up at him. “You’ve decided to go.” Jason blinked at her.

“I can see the peace on your face, my boy. I’m so glad.” She laid her age-wrinkled hand on his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. You’re making the right decision.”

Jason grinned at her. “How do you do that?”

She did not give the tart reply Jason expected. Instead she turned to look out the window and answered seriously, “When you’ve prayed as much as I have, you will be able to see things—spiritual things—that you miss when you’re not so in tune with God’s Spirit.”

Jason hugged her to him and placed a gentle kiss on her gray curls. “I love you, Gram. You take care of yourself while I’m gone.”

Gram stepped away and went back to her painstaking task of mixing cookie dough. “I can take care of myself just fine, my boy.”

Jason again found himself wishing that were true. He could have taken the bowl from her trembling hands and had the dough mixed in a quarter of the time it had taken her to get this far, but he would not deny her the freedom of fending for herself.

She’d had to be independent from the time her young husband died to this very day. Raising two boys alone—Sean, Sky’s father, and Jack, his own father—and then raising him and Marquis when their parents died. Before he and Marquis came to live with her, she had become sick and had lived with Sean and Rachel for a while. However, as soon as she recuperated, she had moved back to her own home. No, Jason could not deny her independence. But he would speak to Sky, Rocky, Sharyah, and Marquis about doing some things around the place to help her out.

Reaching into the bowl, he stole a pinch of dough with a wink in Gram’s direction. “I better take some while I’m here. Where I’m headed, I might starve to death.”

As he moved from the room to find Jeff and ask when they were leaving, he heard Gram comment contentedly, “Better to starve while doing the Lord’s will than live high on the hog while not.”

Jason smiled.

William, the last member of The Stockman’s Association to arrive, entered the room and seated himself in an empty chair. The gathering of men quieted. The door was securely shut, and the elite group began their discussion in low tones. It wouldn’t do for what they were about to discuss to get around town.

All seven men owned vast ranches and had a lot to lose as more and more little farms and ranches were set up in the area. But this meeting hadn’t been called to discuss the small-timers; it was to discuss a recent horse race and the blatant disregard, utter contempt even, that a certain young man had shown toward an Association member in good standing. Such actions could not be allowed to go unpunished.

“Gentlemen!” Roscoe Cox, the chairman of The Association, pounded his fist on the table they were gathered around. “Let’s get right to it, shall we? Many of you were in Prineville the other day when Conner, who works for the Hanging T, blatantly disregarded the request of Tom Roland to allow Sid Snow the privilege of winning the race. Because of his contempt for our Association, not only did we lose money”—a rumble made its way around the room—”but our authority has come into question! So far we’ve been able to maintain control, but we all know the potential consequences if we let this act go unpunished.”

“I thought they were gonna be off their property by now anyhow! If we don’t get rid of these small-timers pretty soon, we’re gonna be overrun with them and our cattle won’t have any land to graze on.”

A grumble of agreement circled the table, and all eyes turned to the two men who were supposed to have this situation well in hand by now.

“Thankfully,” Roscoe Cox continued, “Roland has promised to do all he can on his end to prevent that. We all know that he’s helped us keep many of the small-timers out of this area, and I’m sure you are grateful for that. I know I am. However,” his eyes turned fully on Tom, “I believe I speak for all of us, Tom, when I say we are wondering if things are going as well as you claim.”

“Gentlemen,” Tom Roland reassured them, “we’ve had a couple of small problems to take care of since our last meeting, but all is well in hand and we’re back on track. And Conner will be taken care of shortly.”

“What about that situation we discussed at our last meeting?” asked Rod Signet, owner of a ranch of well over 20,000 acres. “Does the man’s wife know anything about our plans? Do you think he spoke to her before—” He glanced around the room at the uneasy faces. “Before his accident?”

William hid a chuckle as several of the men stared downward, fidgeting nervously. At their last meeting the vote had been unanimous that it was time to deal with John Trent, who’d disagreed with their land-grabbing plan of action. The lily-livered yellow-bellies had been prepared to draw straws for the undesirable task, until he had volunteered, much to the relief of everyone.

Yet now there was Nicki, a potential problem if John had spoken to her. All eyes turned toward his end of the table again. William swallowed. It fell to him to keep Nicki out of this. She’d soon be his if he played his cards right.

He leaned forward, tenting his fingers with a smile that he knew would calm even the mother of a kidnapped child. “Gentlemen, she knows nothing, I assure you. The situation is well in control. She will not be a problem. In fact,” he grinned, “soon she will be my wife!”

A murmur of relief swept the room, even as Roscoe Cox spoke. “See that it is, young man. I didn’t work my hindquarters off to get my fifty-five just so I could lose it when some do-gooder decided some of my plans weren’t exactly moral. Just remember: you don’t have nearly as much to lose as the rest of us if this goes sour.”

William carefully kept his anger hidden. If he had fifty-five thousand acres, he wouldn’t trust someone else to save his land; he’d take matters into his own hands. But then he was a man of action, and most of these men had come into their money through inheritance, not hard work. He’d worked hard for anything he ever laid his hands on, and he didn’t plan to stop now.

His eyes traveled to Tom. Well okay, there was that one time when he’d been tempted to lay his hands on what he hadn’t worked for, and look where it had gotten him. “You have my assurance, Mr. Cox. And since Conner works for Mrs. Trent, I will make sure to convey our displeasure with his rebellion myself.” His voice was even, not betraying any of his thoughts.

Roland nodded. “We’ll make him wish he’d never bucked us!”

“Good. Then we don’t have any more to discuss. I hereby propose that this meeting come to a close.”

The motion was seconded and all the men filed somberly out of the room.

Nicki sat up and heaved into the basin she had been keeping by her bed. She had caught some kind of flu bug and, for the last two weeks since the funeral, she had been sick off and on, and tired constantly. Sawyer, his chubby baby cheeks flushed with sleep, turned over with a little moan but did not wake.

Easing herself out of bed, Nicki pressed one hand to the small of her back as she made her way to the stove to put on some water for tea. Picking up the basin and its gruesome contents, she headed outside…and almost stepped on a baby lying in the snow. She jerked to a halt. The baby had a knife protruding from its chest! Horror clawed at her throat, and she almost dropped the basin.

¡
Querido Jesús!
A scream died in her throat before it had time to escape. The fear left her just as quickly as it had come, taking the strength from her legs.

She sank to the ground, remembering William’s warning. “So, it has begun.” The “baby” was merely a bundle of burlap, shaped and tied with string to resemble a small child. The handle of a blade protruded from its chest, pinning a crudely written note there.
Get off or pay
. The message was clear.

Nicki rushed back inside to check on Sawyer before she could make herself go out to the creek. The morning breeze chilled her as she rinsed the basin in the creek, but at least the sun was out. She splashed water on her face, trying to ease her trembling. Anger set in. If they thought they could scare her off her land, they had a few things to learn about Dominique Noel Vasquez Trent! She’d go about business as usual.

Today, after feeding the chickens, she would continue her work on the huge pile of wood John had heaped by the bunkhouse. He had hauled in plenty of wood before his passing, but none of it had been cut up. It all lay in a mangled mess by the bunkhouse. Long pieces crossed with logs that had protruding branches, making it almost impossible to separate them from one another for chopping. But she had discussed things with Ron and Conner, and it had been decided that they and the two men William had sent over were needed out in the fields where the cattle were. Making sure no animals were bogged down in the unusually heavy snow, checking fall calves for frost bite, and keeping the fences free of drifts that would allow the cattle to cross them were all jobs that had to be seen to. So the job of wood chopper fell to Nicki. Ron had insisted that he could do the job by the light of a lantern at night but Nicki had nothing else pressing to do and felt that she should carry her share of the weight in this new endeavor. After this morning, she was more determined than ever.

Back in the shanty, after throwing the offensive dummy in the fire, she dressed in a pair of John’s pants, cinched at the waist with his old belt. She’d punched an extra hole in it. A shirt she’d bought, which had turned out to be too small for John, and her own riding boots completed her ensemble. Pulling her thick, black curls back and tying them high on her head with a string so they would be out of her way, she glanced down at herself. She looked baggy and rumpled but didn’t care. No one would see her dressed this way except for Tilly, who came every day to watch Sawyer, and of course Sawyer, but he loved his mama no matter how she was dressed. By the time Ron and Conner returned from the range she’d be properly dressed and fixing dinner.

She checked the fire. The dummy was nothing but a heap of ashes. Good. No one needed to know about this morning’s incident.

Tilly arrived minutes later with a basket of freshly baked cinnamon rolls her mother had sent. Nicki thanked her but insisted she wouldn’t be able to keep one down. “But they smell delicious.”

“Have you not been feeling well?” asked Tilly.

Nicki waved a hand of unconcern. “
No, es nada grave
. It is nothing serious. I just caught a flu bug of some sort. I haven’t been feeling well for the past couple of weeks, but I’ll be fine pretty soon.”

“All right. Don’t work too hard out there.” Tilly waved her out the door with a smile and moved to wake the still-sleeping toddler.