Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (13 page)

Justin lifted Toby from the security of Miss Alice’s arms, placed the boy on the saddle, and then swung up behind him. He’d almost left his son at the boardinghouse but then reconsidered. Joe Todd deserved to know the package he’d be getting if he hired him. Besides, the housekeeper should meet Toby and decide if she wanted to care for him. If she wasn’t interested, Justin would move on. He’d made that decision in the small hours of the morning. Although he’d not spent much time caring for the boy in the past, he knew he wanted a place in Toby’s future.

“Ready to go for a ride?” He ruffled the boy’s hair and picked up the reins.

“Want to wide the horsey myself, Papa.” Toby’s small hands reached out toward the reins.

“Maybe later. We’ll see what we can do about teaching you to ride soon.” He touched his heel to Durango’s flank and the stallion moved forward. The horse’s hooves made small plopping sounds in the mud that had accumulated from last night’s rain. He kept the stallion at a walk, avoiding the small cluster of women who skirted around a large puddle in the middle of the street.

As he neared the edge of town, a squawking rooster flew in his path, causing his horse to sidestep and snort. “Easy, Durango.” He clucked to his mount and picked up the pace. The cool morning breeze made him thankful for the warmth of his buckskin jacket. A quick glance reassured him of Toby’s comfort, as well. Miss Alice had bundled him in a small woolen coat and cap she’d found discarded by a previous boarder.

The parson’s directions pointed him onto a road that climbed a sharp incline and headed up through the scrub pine.

Justin recalled that Benjamin Travers had homesteaded a high mountain plateau a few miles from town. He’d have to ask if it adjoined the ranch where Joe Todd needed help. Parson Moser had mentioned a woman owning it, but it sounded as if Todd was likely the manager, seeing as he did the hiring. Justin figured the owner must be a widow. He’d heard stories of other women who’d been left alone on cattle ranches and had to call on outsiders to ramrod the hands after their husbands died.

His mind turned to Ben Travers. He knew that Travers’s grazing area covered a section several miles long, where he ran numerous horses and only a scattering of cattle for beef. Well he remembered the older man’s love for fine horseflesh. He’d turned his eye toward developing one of the finest bands of horses in the western half of the country and had become the envy of ranchers across California. What a shame the man had passed on before he could realize his dream—or uncover the root of the trouble he’d hinted at.

A small hand tugged on his arm and Justin looked down into Toby’s upturned face. The boy pursed his lips and crinkled his brows. “Where we go, Papa?”

“To see a nice lady who lives on a horse ranch.”

“Toby wide a horsey?” He sat up straight and smiled, and Justin wondered how anyone could resist the winning blue eyes.

“We’ll see, son.” He encircled the small shoulders and pulled the boy close. “Let’s talk to the lady and see if she’d be willing to take care of you while Papa works.”

“Okay. I ask the lady to wide the horsey.” Toby’s mouth set in a determined line and he gave a decisive nod, bringing a hearty chuckle from Justin.

“I’ll bet you will at that, my boy.” He pulled the horse to the right at the fork then headed for the ford in the small stream. Must only be a short distance from here. Stately Douglas fir trees dotted the countryside, interspersed with smaller pines. Early summer flowers peppered the small open field and cascaded the area with a beautiful array of color. Molly had always loved bright, vibrant colors, and she would have loved this scene. What a perfect place for a home.

He shook his head. No sense in pining over something that was never meant to be. The past was over, and the future still waited to be written. Today was all he’d been promised, and he’d make the most of what he’d been given. Toby was his family now, and nothing would break that bond.

A black-tailed deer jumped from the brush fifty yards ahead and sailed across the hard-packed road. The chattering of a squirrel in a pine caught Justin’s attention. He watched with amusement as the small creature attacked the base of a pinecone and dropped it to the ground. It raced to a nearby limb, repeating the process, and cones continued to fall. Wise little creature, getting his stores in early for winter—better than some men Justin had met.

He rounded a corner and pulled to a halt as the panorama of the high mountain plateau spread before him. More than a mile of rich grazing land dotted with occasional mesquite brush and small sugar pine trees encompassed his field of vision. The summer sun glinted off a stream running along the eastern side, and to the far west perched a two-story house, barn, and outbuildings. He shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun and squinted into the distance. Not far from the barn, a small band of mares grazed and a number of foals bucked and reared in play.

He turned Durango toward the house. Someone had done a fine job, setting the attractive home back in the shade of large oak trees, with fir just beyond. What looked like bunkhouses lay on the far side of the clearing. An older man with a heavy limp opened the big door at the front of the barn and headed toward the house.

Durango slowed to a stop in front of the house, and a gray-haired woman stepped out onto the long covered porch.

She glanced at Justin, but when her eyes found Toby, they lit with what looked like sheer delight. “Get down and come in, stranger. I’ll bring some cookies for your boy while you hitch your horse to the rail.” She nodded then turned and hustled into the house.

Justin swung down from Durango and reached up for the smiling boy. “You hear that, Toby? The nice lady has cookies.” He set the squirming boy on the ground.

A deep voice turned Justin around. The man he assumed to be the boss drew close and stopped, leaning heavily on a hand-hewn cane. “You must’a rode out from town? I see your horse hasn’t broke a sweat, and it don’t look like you’re packed for a long ride.” He extended his hand. “Joe Todd.”

Justin liked the look and sound of the older man and shook the proffered hand, pleased by the strong grip. “Justin Phillips, and this is my son, Toby.”

A pair of sober blue eyes looked up at Joe. “Eat cookies, and Toby wide a horsey?”

Joe bent down to Toby’s level. “We’ll see what we can do, young man. But the cookies first. Right?”

Toby bobbed his head and grinned. “Wight.” He took Justin’s hand and pulled him toward the porch.

The front door opened with a light squeak, and the gray-haired woman bustled out carrying a heaping plate of sugar cookies in one hand and a tray with pitcher and glasses in the other. “Here you go, gentlemen. Cookies and milk. Can’t have one without the other.”

The next few minutes passed in companionable silence as the group consumed a large portion of warm cookies and cold milk. Justin sat back with a sigh and patted his stomach. “No more for me. Best cookies I’ve had in a long time, but don’t you go telling Miss Alice that. She’d have my hide.”

The woman introduced as Martha sat up straight and a grin crinkled her cheeks. “You mean our Alice Rice, over in Last Chance? You know her?”

“Sure do. Me and Toby been bunking there the last couple of days.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? That makes you practically family. Alice is my second cousin, and a finer cook I never met.” Martha patted Justin’s knee then reached to brush a crumb from Toby’s chin.

Joe grunted and shook his head. “Nope. Second best. We got the best one sittin’ right here on the porch.”

Martha chuckled and tipped back in her chair. “Shucks, Joe. I didn’t realize you could cook.”

Joe scratched his head and burst out with a guffaw. “Land sakes, woman. You do beat all.” His laughter died and he turned to Justin. “Now, young man, what brings you out? You lookin’ for a job?” His shrewd eyes seemed to size up Justin in one glance.

Justin set his glass on the table. “Yes, sir. Parson Moser suggested I stop. He said you were the person in charge.”

“Nope, not me. The boss’ll be here soon, though. From the looks of your outfit, I assume you’re a rider?”

“I am. I’ve worked both cattle and horses over the years.”

Martha touched his arm, her eyes serious. “The boy.” She dropped her voice. “His ma? Will she be along?”

Justin met her steady gaze and shook his head. “No, ma’am. She passed away a few months ago, and Toby is all I have. Where I go, he goes. That’s the rub. I’m not sure any ranch will want to take on a man with a youngster underfoot, but I can’t give him up.”

“Of course you can’t.” She crossed her arms and huffed. “No man should give up his son for a job.” She glanced back at the boy and a smile softened her face. “He’s a right pert little boy. Smart for his age, and a good eater, as well.”

Justin grinned and moved the plate of cookies out of the little boy’s reach. “No more, Toby. You won’t have room for supper.” He ruffled the boy’s hair and turned back to Martha. “Yes, ma’am. He’s a good boy. Wants more than anything to ride a horse. We’ve been on the road for a couple of weeks in the buckboard, and I didn’t have a quiet horse back in Nevada. The stallion’s too high-spirited for a child, but Toby’s been pestering me something fierce.”

Joe tapped the base of his cane on the porch. “I’ll bet I can take care of that. We have an old pony that’s out to pasture, but with a little work, he’d be a solid child’s horse again. What d’ya think, Martha?”

Martha sat up and beamed. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. And I could care for the boy while you’re at work, if you get hired. That is, if this old coot here,” she nodded at Joe with a grin, “has the energy to teach the boy to ride.”

Joe chortled and winked. “Old coot, huh? Last time I checked, you was eight years my senior. But as long as you keep making these cookies, you can call me whatever you want.” His faced sobered. “But I’m afraid we’re gettin’ a mite ahead of ourselves. It’s Alex’s decision, not ours.”

As if on cue, the sound of horse hooves on the nearby road pulled their attention around. Joe rose to his feet. “Here comes the boss now.” He waved an arm and raised his voice. “Come to the house before you put your horse up. Got someone for you to meet.” He reached for a cookie while he waited, took a large bite, chewed, swallowed, and then coughed. “Sorry. Guess I’d best slow down.” He wiped his mouth and took a drink of cold milk. “Alex, this here is Justin Phillips and his boy, Toby. I’ll let him tell you why he stopped in.”

The young woman looped her horse’s rein over the hitching rail and climbed the porch steps then extended her hand. “Alex Travers.”

Justin rose to his feet. His jaw worked but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Alex Travers? But how…what… you can’t be…” A quick glance at Joe Todd’s confused face mirrored the expression cloaking Martha’s and the young woman’s, who was still standing with her hand extended.

The woman he’d seen at the church and bumped into on the street dropped her hand and frowned. “I beg your pardon? I can’t be what?”

“Alex Travers,” he said again, emphasizing the last name. “I–I guess I didn’t expect a woman!” He narrowed his eyes and tried not to stare at the beauty standing before him. “And you most certainly are not a man.”

Alex bristled and choked back an exclamation of irritation bordering on anger. The nerve. And to think that when she’d bumped into him she’d thought him shy and a bit charming. Ha! His comment did nothing to her pulse now but send it simmering.

She remembered Ralph’s accusation that he looked like a horse thief on a Wanted poster. The sheriff had waved that aside and believed the stranger’s explanation, but what did he know?

“I’m Alex Travers. My given name is Alexia, if that makes you feel any better, and my father was Benjamin Travers. May I ask why you’re here? I assumed you’d be riding on after the incident at the church.”

Uncle Joe gazed from her to Justin and back. “What incident you talkin’ about, Alex? You know this man?”

She shook her head. “No, but I saw him at the church a couple of days ago when Ralph mistook him for a horse thief on a Wanted poster.”

“Horse thief, huh?” Joe swung his gray head toward Justin. “You don’t strike me as a man who’d stoop to thievin’, but you cain’t always judge a horse by his color.” He scratched his chin. “What you got to say for yourself, young man?”

Justin looked from Joe to Alex. “Not much needs sayin’. I came to this country hunting a job, and I’ve never been in trouble with the law. I’ve ridden for some good outfits over the years, both cattle and horses, if you need a reference.”

Alex nodded her head. “I’d appreciate that. Your resemblance to the man on the poster is striking, but I doubt he’d have a child with him if he were on the run from the law.”

She glanced at the little boy snuggled on the nearby seat. What a captivating smile, and the blue eyes looked capable of thinking up more mischief than the average adult could imagine. The dark curls tickled the tops of his ears and draped over his collar. His father wasn’t bad looking, either—and his shoulders looked like he was no stranger to hard work. The firm handshake he’d offered and the calluses on his palm only confirmed this impression.