Mary Connealy (42 page)

Libby started laughing. For a few seconds Silas wondered if the woman would topple off her chair, she was so caught in her laughing fit. Finally, Libby got herself under control. “No one can say that ain’t true, Belle. Not knowing Anthony the way we do.” Libby started in laughing again.

Belle quit trying to stare Silas to death and looked at the laughing woman and grinned.

Something twisted hard and sweet inside of Silas when he saw that serious face light up with a smile. She was younger than he’d first thought. And although he’d known from the first moment he saw her she was uncommonly beautiful, when she smiled like that, she seemed innocent and approachable. He wondered what kind of fool Anthony was to let his wife go off on a cattle drive with a half dozen men while he stayed home.

He was struck again by the idea that this was a kind of woman he never knew existed. He had no use for women, and he shuddered at the idea of working for one. When he opened his mouth to say he’d rather spend the next month being danced on by a herd of longhorns than work for her, he said instead, “So, am I hired, boss lady?”

Silas gave up any hope of controlling his mouth. It seemed to have struck out on its own for good. He shook his head and wondered at his willingness—no, his eagerness—to do this.

Belle tilted her head to study him. “You’re too good-looking and you’re too blasted smart—I can see that already. I’ll probably have to shoot you down like a foam-at-the-mouth, rabid skunk before we’re two days down the trail.”

Silas froze. He had no idea how to react to that.

He’d shoot a man for less than calling him a “rabid skunk.’”

He’d kiss a woman for less than saying he was smart and good-looking.

Their eyes met and the moment stretched. Her shining brown eyes widened, and he felt his own narrow. They were locked together until something almost visible vibrated between them.

Into the dead silence, Libby spoke. “That means you’re hired.”

A
re you in town for long?” Silas stood from the table, pushing his chair back with a scrape.

“A couple of hours, more’n likely.” Belle wished she’d never shaken his hand. The feel of it more than anything else had made her refuse his offer to work. Libby had spoken up in time to keep Belle from foolishly turning down a willing drover. “I’m laying in supplies for the drive, and the general store will be awhile filling the order and packing my horse string.”

He nodded and offered her his hand again to seal the deal. “I’ll be sleeping at the Golden Butte. Wake me up, and I’ll ride out with you.”

At mention of the Golden Butte, Belle frowned. She looked at that hand and was tempted to slap it aside. But some people might really sleep at the Golden Butte, and it didn’t matter to her what he did. Swatting her new cowhand would have too much to do with Anthony and nothing to do with him. Good manners overcame her reluctance, and she gave him another quick handshake.

He tossed some coins on the table and left her sitting by Libby.

She rubbed her hand on her chaps to get the feeling of him off. She watched him walk away before she turned back to her coffee. “What do you know about him, Lib?”

“He came in huntin’ a meal about an hour ago.” Libby shrugged. “He’s been ridin’ the mountain country for a while. He didn’t say much. But he saw to his horse before he ate. His outfit looked good and his gun was clean and loaded.”

“It ain’t much to go on.” Belle studied her coffee.

“I liked the look of him. He’ll do to ride the river with.”

Somehow, Belle was sorely afraid he wouldn’t do at all, but not for lack of practice at cowboying. “Keep kickin’ over rocks to see if any hands crawl out. We’re lightin’ out at sunup, but they could catch us if you find anyone who’s of a mind to.”

“I’ll do that.” Libby fetched the pot and poured.

While she listened to Libby talk, Belle considered her options. Six hands. She needed that many cowpunchers to make this crossing. Seth had told her the same as Libby, a cattle drive had taken all the men available. But Seth had thought Libby’s sons might be in town and they might set aside their mule skinning for a month to make solid cash money.

Belle knew how much help Lindsay and Emma were. And Sarah, though she wasn’t big enough yet to bulldog or rope, could haze cattle and stick a saddle like a little burr. But Belle hadn’t really counted the girls as hands. She’d more considered them as extra and just thought to bring them along because she couldn’t leave them home alone. Now she was going to have to count them. So, she had those three and Silas. That was four hands. She wanted six men besides herself. With a sigh, Belle knew they could make the trip, but it would be as tough as anything any of them would ever endure.

It made her twitchy to sit drinking coffee, but listening to Libby talk was nice. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt, because it wasn’t time to head back for a while. She’d left a list with Seth and Muriel at the general store, and it was a long one. She’d pulled a string of packhorses to town rather than bring her buckboard. After nearly giving birth to Betsy on the trail while driving her slow-moving buckboard home, she’d come to prefer the faster pace of the packhorses.

Libby went for the coffeepot again.

While she was gone into the kitchen, the bell tinkled over the door. Belle looked up expecting to see Silas Harden coming—wanting to shake her hand again. Instead, in traipsed a mystery.

Cassie Dawson. A woman forced into marriage who was happy.

Impossible.

And yet the woman glowed. She had one hand resting on her stomach, obviously expecting a baby. Her husband swung the door inward then stepped back to let Cassie go first as if she were made out of the most fragile china. Red then followed his wife in.

Then bringing up the rear—of all people—Wade Sawyer. Belle decided she was improving as a judge of men, because she knew Wade Sawyer was bad news. Except he was carrying a little girl with a head full of short black curls, and dark brown eyes, who looked about a year old. Wade smiled down at the child with more pleasure and pride in his eyes than Belle had ever seen from her husbands toward their own children.

The last time she’d seen Wade, he’d had bloodshot eyes and a bad attitude and smelled like a mangy coyote. Now his eyes were clear, and a smile wiped all the cruelty from his face.

“Belle?” Cassie hurried over to the table, her eyes lit up, an excited smile on her face. This young woman had awakened a mother’s instinct in Belle from the first. Cassie would have benefited from some of Belle’s teachings. But Red got her first, and he’d done right by the little woman.

Belle also noticed that the baby looked the image of Cassie. Belle frowned, wondering how a woman managed such a thing.

Libby came out of the kitchen with her pot.

“I’m just dropping Cass and Susannah off.” Red took the baby from Wade and hugged her till she giggled and grabbed at his nose.

“Papa.” Susannah squealed and squirmed, and Belle couldn’t take her eyes off the little girl surrounded by love. She’d done her best by her girls, but she’d never been able to provide them with a father’s love.

“Bye-bye, Suzie.” Red settled the baby on Cassie’s lap. “I’ve got work to do. Libby, we’ll haul your supplies over as soon as we can. Wade’s going to help.”

“Thanks, Red. I’ll leave the door open. I planned on abandoning the place and having coffee with Cassie and Muriel and Leota over at Muriel’s.”

“Seth told us Muriel’s out doctoring one of Leota’s young’uns.” Cassie ran her hand over her baby’s curls.

Libby gasped. “Is it serious?”

“I think the little boy is running a fever from a cold. Leota hadn’t slept all night, so Muriel went to give her a chance to rest.” Cassie bounced her little girl on her knee. “They’re going to try and get over here before Red comes back from his chores.”

Belle looked to be on the verge of getting pulled into a hen party. She hadn’t done such a thing in her adult life. Of course, with four daughters, her whole
life
was something of a hen party. But they were a hardworking flock.

Just as she was ready to stand up and walk out, Libby poured coffee and slipped a piece of cake in front of Belle. She knew this dessert wasn’t for anyone but Libby’s women friends—it was too pretty, with crumbled brown sugar and speckles of sweet-smelling cinnamon.

“That’s perfect then.” Libby nodded, clearly glad her party was going to grow.

Ruefully, Belle wondered what it would feel like to be welcomed like that. Libby was polite to her, but no friendlier than she’d been with Silas.

Red looked at Belle a long time, a serious expression on his face. “You had your baby, then? Everyone’s okay?”

Belle nodded. “We named her Elizabeth. We call her Betsy.” Anthony had insisted they name the baby Caterina, of all outlandish names. To keep him happy, they’d tried to call the tyke Caterina, or more often The Baby, when Anthony was within earshot. She and the girls privately called the child Betsy, and since Anthony had been gone more than home, that was pretty much all the time.

Figuring Anthony wasn’t long for the world, considering the foolish way he conducted his life, they bided their time and watched their tongues, and now that the man had faced his inevitable death, they were free to call Betsy by her real name all the time.

“Glad to hear it. You were too far out to send to town for Muriel. Cassie, Wade, and I worried some.”

Belle’s eyes shifted to Wade’s. “You’re…living at Red’s place?”

Wade nodded. “When I’m around. I’ve been doing some scouting for the army, some trapping. Hired on to a couple of cattle drives. I quit working on my dad’s ranch. Got sick of living under his thumb.” Wade’s calm, clear eyes brightened. “Red and Cassie have helped me learn more about God. I’m a believer now.”

Libby patted Wade on the arm. “It’s been a pleasure having you attend our church. Your pa was in here kicking up a fuss about you living out at the Dawsons’.”

Wade shrugged and smiled. “My pa’s good at that.”

He seemed to be completely at ease with his father’s wrath, neither afraid nor angry. Belle had spent most of her married life being one or the other or both.

Belle lived far enough from everyone not to have come up against Mort Sawyer and his legendary temper, but she’d met the man a time or two. He expected everyone to stand aside or be crushed under his boot. Now she realized she had a skilled hand standing right in front of her.

“You’re not hunting work, are you?” Belle felt foolish to hire on the son of the area’s more powerful ranchers and offer him a dollar a day and campfire meals.

Wade seemed to focus on her for the first time. “Doing what?”

“I’m taking my cattle to market. I could use more hands.”

Wade rubbed his thumb over his chin as if considering. “I’ve got a run to make first, promised to deliver some supplies to a line shack for Linscott. When are you heading out?”

“First light.”

“Tomorrow?” Wade asked.

Belle nodded.

“I’ll be a few days, but tell me your trail. I can catch up.”

Belle would have told anyone who asked that she’d rather do this drive alone than let Wade Sawyer with his coyote eyes help her. But he’d said he was a Christian. More than that—because a man’s word didn’t mean much to Belle—he looked calm and settled. Much like Silas Harden.

She sighed. She didn’t have the luxury of being picky. At least Wade, with his vast holdings, even if he’d walked away from them for now, wouldn’t want to marry her to gain Tanner Ranch.

“Fine, we’re taking the high trail out of the north side of my ranch.”

Wade flinched. “Tough passage. You won’t be hard to find. There’s not a way off that trail once you start it.”

Belle nodded. “I’d welcome the help.”

Wade and Red left, jangling the bell behind them.

Belle found herself pulled into talk of babies and husbands and making a home. Th ree things Belle knew a lot about. And she’d tried to avoid all three with no success.

“So how old is your baby, Belle? I haven’t seen …” Cassie faltered. “Did you have a boy or a girl?”

“A girl, thank goodness.”

Cassie’s eyes sharpened, and she held her squirming daughter. “Didn’t you want a son?”

Obviously itching to get her hands on the tyke, Libby relieved Cassie of the little girl.

Belle snorted. “I haven’t had much luck with men. I’d probably raise ’em up to be as worthless as their pas.”

“Pas?” Libby asked. “More than one?”

“Yep, Anthony was my third husband. Uh…
is
my third husband.”

“Was?” Libby plunked down on the bench next to Cassie. “What happened? Did Anthony die, too?”

Belle felt her neck start to heat. She had no talent for lying. She could skip a subject well enough and not feel the need to blurt out her every thought. But pure, straight-from-the-shoulder lies just didn’t sit on her tongue nor her conscience. “I don’t want to talk about Anthony.”

Libby leaned closer and whispered, “You can tell us, Belle. I knew Anthony. It was only a matter of time until he turned up his toes.”

Belle rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t want anyone knowing he’s dead, okay?”

“Of course you’re not ready.” Cassie’s eyes shone with compassion. “If he just died, you’re still grieving.”

“Grieving?” Belle snorted in a way that reminded her of her horse and shook her head. “Not hardly. I just don’t want the no-accounts around here to know I’m widowed. They’ll be out there pestering me to marry up with them. I’d probably finally just marry one to keep the others away.” Belle glared at both women. “And I
don’t want another husband.
If you breathe a word, it’ll all be ruined.”

Libby nodded.

“Why don’t you want a husband, Belle?” Cassie’s huge eyes were as warm and brown as her coffee.

“I just have a knack for picking a poor lot. It’s something wrong with me. I know that. But I can’t seem to get it right.” Belle didn’t like admitting that, but it was her only hope for keeping her secret. “So, I’m quitting.”

“Quitting the ranch?” Cassie asked, pure innocence.

Belle should have taken her home and toughened her up, no matter that she was already married. “No!” Instead, Belle had stepped aside and let Red have her, and now look at the little woman, wide-eyed, innocent, sweet, cheerful. Not a brain in her head.