No One But You (2 page)

Jared looked around, apparently trying to find what had caused his mother to change her mind. “Did something scare you?”

The odds were stacked heavily against her, but what kind of mother would she be if she quit? It didn't matter if she was so scared she could hardly breathe. It didn't matter that she was practically selling herself to a man she'd never seen. No one else would take care of her children. Both were looking at her now, waiting for her to say something.

She was about to shake the reins and start the horse again when a voice stopped her. “Are you folks lost?”

Sarah spun around to see a man with broad shoulders and a lean body approaching with an easy, swinging gait and a hoe resting on his shoulder. Apparently he'd been working in a grove of fruit trees whose leafless limbs looked like outstretched fingers against the pale gray winter sky. She didn't know how she missed seeing him. He was as tall as the trees themselves.

Oddly, he gave her the impression of being as sturdy as a tree, able to bend when necessary but keeping his roots firmly attached to the ground. Maybe it was his expression that was an engaging mixture of curiosity and cheerfulness. Maybe it was his unhurried gait, the way he stood calmly waiting for her to reply. Or maybe it was simply clothes that fit his body comfortably without being baggy. Maybe it was his broad shoulders and powerful forearms she could see below his rolled-up sleeves. His voice had a low, slow, and distinctly Southern accent; his gaze was forthright. His gray eyes seemed to welcome her. Or it could be that she was so afraid of being spurned that anything less than outright rejection seemed like an invitation.

“We're not lost,” Ellen told the man. “We've come to look for a hired man.”

The man's brow creased. “Why would you think he was here?”

Sarah pulled her scattered wits together. “I need to find a man to help me with my ranch. I was hoping one of the Randolphs would know of someone I could hire.”

The man's expression cleared. “You ought to go to Austin. You'll find plenty of men there looking for work.”

“I've been to Austin.”

“How about San Antonio? It's a far piece, but I'm sure you can find lots of men there.”

She could find lots of
men
just about anywhere, but she didn't want just any man. If she had to marry him, he had to be someone special, maybe someone like this helpful stranger.

The man switched his hoe to the other shoulder, stepped forward, and extended his hand. “Howdy. My name's Benton Wheeler but everybody calls me Salty.”

Sarah took the proffered hand. It was big and rough-skinned with long fingers. His grip was firm but gentle. “I'm Sarah Winborne. These are my children, Ellen and Jared.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Salty shook hands with both children before turning back to Sarah. “You have a handsome family. They must take after their mama.”

Sarah wasn't immune to a compliment, even one she was certain she didn't deserve. “They had a very handsome father.”

“A lady like you doesn't deserve anything less.”

This man's voice was like a fragrant oil, slipping sweet compliments by her in a way that made it feel like he meant every word.

“He died in the war,” Ellen said.

“I'm mighty sorry to hear that. Children deserve a father.”

They'd never had one, but that wasn't something Sarah was willing to share with a stranger, even an intriguing stranger who had succeeded in making her
feel
pretty when she knew she didn't
look
pretty.

“He never did write,” Ellen said. “Do you think that makes him a bad father?”

“He couldn't write if he died.”

“I suppose so,” Ellen agreed with Salty, “but Mama wanted at least one letter.”

Sarah loved her daughter dearly, but the girl had no idea when to keep her mouth shut. She was as open and uncomplicated as the horses she loved so much. “I would like to speak to Mrs. Randolph,” Sarah said to Salty. “Is she at home?”

“She sure is. I'll walk you up to the house.”

“You don't need to do that.”

“It's no trouble. Besides, my mama told me to be nice to pretty ladies.”

The only reason this man couldn't be happily married to an adoring wife would be that his silver tongue had gotten him into trouble with the law and he was hiding out.

“I expect it was your father who advised you to offer them soft soap.”

Salty grinned. “You have to be a Southerner to know what that means.”

“Because I'm a Southerner, I know just how much it's worth.”

She liked his laugh. It was easy, genuine, and was accompanied by glistening eyes that said he was a man who enjoyed a woman's company. She was certain women were equally charmed by his company. He had a way about him that was dangerous because it made a woman feel all manner of things were possible even when she knew they weren't.

“Ma'am, I think you just accused me of being a purveyor of untruths.”

Sarah couldn't resist laughing at his mock chagrin. “Nothing so serious. Just a matter of exaggeration.”

“But only a
slight
exaggeration.”

His assumed look of hopefulness, like a little boy hoping to escape punishment for some small transgression, almost made her laugh again. This man could have turned her head if she weren't a serious woman in need of a capable and responsible husband. It must be wonderful to be able to wake up each morning knowing that your world was unthreatened, that the day would provide you with reasons to be glad you were alive.

“It would be ungracious of me to disagree with you so I won't. Now you'd better introduce me to Mrs. Randolph before you give me reason to go back on my word.”

“Your mother is a hard woman,” Salty said to Ellen.

His accusation provoked Jared into breaking his silence. “No, she's not. She's nice to everyone, even the men who left us.”

Sarah could tell from Salty's sudden lack of expression that an explanation was required. “Two of the men who worked for us left before fulfilling their agreement. It caused us to lose most of our crops last year.” Which was the reason she was in such a desperate situation.

“I must apologize for my gender,” Salty said. “Only a low-down skunk would do something like that.”

“Arnie wasn't a low-down skunk,” Ellen protested. “I liked him.”

“You liked him because he let you ride with him everywhere he went,” Jared said. “I told you he wasn't nice. I just didn't know to call him a low-down skunk.”

Salty's glistening eyes were at work again. “It seems I've made an addition to your son's vocabulary,” he said to Sarah. “Do I have to apologize?”

If she didn't get away from this man, she was going to do something foolish. He probably wasn't married after all. He enjoyed flattering women too much to settle down and get serious with anyone. Yet there was something genuine about him that made her believe a woman could depend on him. Despite the flattery and the laughter, he seemed solid, unshakable. Still, she couldn't afford to be dazzled by his smile or thrown off balance by his kindness.

“I won't ask you to apologize if you'll stop dragging your feet and introduce me to Mrs. Randolph. I could almost believe you didn't want me to meet her.”

“Why would I want you to meet her when it means I'll be denied the pleasure of talking to you?”

She didn't know why Mr. Randolph had hired this man, but she doubted it was for the amount of work he got done. It would be nice to be with someone who had the power to make her feel her life wasn't such a burden, but she couldn't afford that luxury. She needed a man who knew how to fix things, to make things work, who wouldn't be put off by the hours of backbreaking labor it would take to put her ranch in order. She needed a man who could fill the role of a father to her children. She needed a man who would honor his commitments and respect her.

She needed a miracle.

“Somehow I think you'll survive. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll introduce
myself
to Mrs. Randolph.”

“I said I'd walk up with you, and I will.” He ambled to the horse's head, secured a grip on the bridle, and clucked for him to start walking. “Rose—that's what Mrs. Randolph insists everybody call her—doesn't get around much these days, so she'll be tickled to see another woman she can talk to.”

“Doesn't she have a mother, sisters, sisters-in-law, even aunts who visit?”

“None of that. Just herself, and believe me, that's more than enough.”

Sarah wasn't sure how to take that.

“When she speaks, everybody jumps,” Salty continued. “Yes, sirree. The best way to get thrown off this ranch is to mess with Rose. She won't have to do a thing because George will kill anyone who bothers her. Not you, ma'am,” Salty said, glancing back at Sarah. “George wouldn't lay a hand on a lady. Of course, I'm not sure about Monty. He doesn't hold much with women, at least not in a romantical sort of way.”

Sarah had never met a man who barely paused long enough to allow someone else to get a word in edgewise. She had no doubt he could maintain a whole conversation by himself.

“Maybe I shouldn't have come,” she said. “I don't want to upset the family.”

“It's too late now. You're trapped.”

Sarah cast nervous glances on either side and behind but didn't see anyone else. “What do you mean?”

Salty pointed toward the house. “Rose has seen you. You can't back out now.”

Sarah looked toward the house where a woman stood on the porch beckoning to her. She noticed two things right away: the woman was very pretty, and she was very pregnant.

“Rose is expecting her first baby,” Salty told her. “George has tried his best to convince her to stay in the house, but he gave up. People usually do when they go up against Rose.”

“Maybe I should talk to her husband instead.”

“If you think Rose is going to let you leave without talking to her, you don't know Rose. But of course you don't know her. You couldn't. But you'll love her like everybody else.”

Could Salty mean everybody did whatever Rose asked because they loved her? Sarah had never heard of a woman who had that kind of power over men. Such a skill would be more valuable than gold.

Rose came down the steps to meet Sarah before Sarah's wagon came to a stop. She didn't act like a woman who needed to stay inside. She glowed with health and happiness as she said, “I'm Rose Randolph. I'd come down to meet you, but if I leave these steps, Salty will tell George and I'll be in for a lecture.”

“I'd never tell on you,” Salty protested.

“I know, but he'll ask me and I'd have to tell him the truth.”

Sarah didn't know what to make of this woman. Maybe it wasn't “disobedience” in this case, just a difference of opinion. Not like it had been for her with Roger. Whenever Sarah had failed to live up to his expectations, he'd shouted at her, even struck her on occasion.

“Please don't leave the steps,” Sarah said. “I'm capable of climbing far more than those.”

“This hasn't slowed me down”—Rose rubbed her stomach—“but it has made me more clumsy.”

Sarah remembered her own pregnancy only too well. Roger had been furious at the change in her appearance, that she couldn't do as much work as before, and that she was unable to satisfy his physical appetite as often as he wished. In the last months he had found her so unappealing he had gone elsewhere.

“It's a matter of balance,” Rose said as Salty helped Sarah down. “If I turn too quickly or lean over too far, I lose my balance.”

Sarah remembered stumbling, even falling to her knees. “Let me give you a hand up the steps,” she said.

“Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine holding on to the railing. Tell your children to get down and come in. Salty will take care of your horse and wagon.”

“I don't mean to stay. I just need to ask a few questions.”

“I'll have none of that. You're staying for supper. And if you have more than a couple of questions, you can stay overnight and ask them tomorrow.”

Sarah felt like she'd been run over by a freight wagon, but she had a feeling a lot of people did when they met Rose Randolph. If she herself had been more like Rose she wouldn't have been forced to marry Roger.

As was her habit, Ellen jumped down from the wagon without waiting for assistance.

“This is my daughter, Ellen Winborne.”

“How do you do,” Ellen said to Rose. “I'm pleased to meet you.” She had good manners when she remembered to use them.

“You're going to be tall,” Rose said. “I bet you're a big help to your mama.”

“Not really. I prefer working outside.”

“So do I,” Rose confided, “but none of these men can cook.”

“I don't like cooking.”

Rose's gaze narrowed on Ellen. “Stick to your guns. There are a lot of men who make good cooks. Now I'd like to meet your brother.”

“It's difficult for Jared to get out of the wagon by himself,” Sarah said to Rose. “He was born with a withered leg.”

“I'll lift him out.”

Sarah had forgotten Salty was still there. She turned to decline his offer, but Salty had reached over the side of the wagon, hooked his arms around Jared, and lifted him out like he weighed nothing at all.

“Can you stand on your own?” he asked the boy.

“If I have something to lean on,” Jared said. “I can hop with a stick, but I can't go very far.”

Sarah knew it embarrassed Jared to have to confess his weakness to yet another person, but she was proud of him for facing up to it.

“Bring him into the parlor,” Rose said to Salty. “He's probably covered in bruises from being bounced to death in that wagon.”

Sarah wanted to protest that this was unnecessary, that a chair in the kitchen would be fine, but Salty climbed the steps carrying Jared in his arms like he did this every day. Rose pelted Jared with questions and Salty with orders. They all disappeared inside the house, leaving Sarah and Ellen to turn when they heard the sound of an approaching rider.

The man who rode up a moment later was the best-looking man Sarah had ever seen, even better looking than Roger. He swung down from the saddle when he reached them. Sarah could tell he was looking at her closely, probably trying to figure out if he was supposed to know them. He smiled and extended his hand in welcome.

“My name is George Randolph. There can't be a good reason why you're standing outside in this wind.”

Sarah collected her badly scattered wits. “I'm Sarah Winborne, and this is my daughter, Ellen.”

“Let's save the rest of the introductions until we get inside.”

He appeared to be the kind of gentleman Roger had thought himself to be. But Sarah was certain George would never hit his wife or turn his back on a crippled son. She looked down at her dirty boots.

“Don't worry about your boots,” George said. “You should see what the boys look like when they come in.”

Sarah felt like a beggar in her worn coat and threadbare scarf, but there was nothing left to do but acquiesce to the invitation. She and Ellen climbed the steps and went inside.

The hall that ran from the front to the back of the house was empty of furniture, but what looked like a dozen pairs of shoes and boots lined the wall.

“The men change in the bunkhouse before they come in to eat, but sometimes their boots get muddy getting here. Keeping extras is easier than trying to scrape the mud off.”

On the immediate right was a doorway which appeared to lead to an office. On the left was an open arch. Looking through it, Sarah saw that Salty had settled Jared on a couch. Rose was busy putting pillows behind his back while Salty propped his leg on an ottoman.

“Are you comfortable?” Rose asked Jared. “I've got more pillows. And blankets if you're still cold.”

“I'm fine,” Jared said, slightly flustered at being the object of so much attention. “The fire is very warm.”

Heat from a cast iron heater on the right side of the room had made the large room almost too warm after the cold of the outside.

“If no one needs anything else,” Salty said to Sarah, “I'll bring in your bags and unhitch the horse.”

“I can do that,” Ellen said.

Salty grinned at her. “I could use some help. No telling what that horse might do if I turn my back on him.”

Ellen wasn't amused. “You're making fun of me.”

“No, I'm teasing, but I won't do it anymore. Friends?”

“I guess so. It's just that people think I can't do anything because I'm a girl and I'm only seven.”

“I never thought that. Now we'd better get the horse rubbed down and in the barn.”

“Take off your coat and get comfortable,” Rose said to Sarah after Ellen and Salty had gone.

Sarah was exhausted, more from worry than from the strain of handling the reins all day.

“You must be tired,” Rose said. “Come sit by me. You can commiserate with me about being pregnant. The men around here seem to think everything ought to be the same as before.”

“This is nothing compared to what it will be like when the baby gets here,” Sarah said.

“Rose has been preparing us for that day,” George said with a fond smile at his wife, “but I'm still looking forward to it.”

“You'd better,” Rose said with an equally doting smile. “If I go to all this trouble, you'd better like the results. Now tell me about yourself,” she said, turning to Sarah. “What could have compelled you to travel this far in this weather? You don't live around here, do you?”

Sarah hardly knew where to begin, but she decided to start with the easiest question. “I have a ranch below Austin.”

“You poor woman! What a long distance. Where did you sleep? What did you eat?”

Sarah decided it would be easier to start at the beginning.

* * *

It took only one trip for Salty and Ellen to carry into the house, and set down in the hallway, the few belongings of the Winborne family. He glanced into the parlor before turning to go outside. He'd been rather glib when he met Mrs. Winborne and her two children because he didn't know what to say. One look at her clothes had told him she was down on her luck. No woman as proud as she would dress like that except out of necessity. She wasn't a beauty, mind you, yet she was pretty in a way her bedraggled clothes couldn't hide. There was something very appealing about her despite the stubborn set of her jaw. If he were to guess, he'd say it had taken all her courage to come on this errand. He hoped Rose or George would be able to help her, but she wasn't going to hire anyone away from the Circle Seven. Every man here knew he was fortunate to be working for the Randolphs. Fighting rustlers as well as Cortina's bandits was hard work, but he had a place to sleep, plenty to eat, and he even got paid.

He felt especially sorry for the boy, Jared. Having a useless leg was hard on a kid, and no woman was going to marry a man who couldn't walk by himself. How was the poor kid going to find a job? He knew how people felt about cripples. His whole family had found out after his pa's accident.

“Can I help unharness the horse?” Ellen asked as they started down the front steps.

“You ought to stay inside where it's warm. I expect it's going to rain soon.”

“I don't care. I like rain, and I like horses. I bet you got hundreds.”

Salty halted at the bottom of the steps. “Not that many, but we probably have close to forty counting the foals we had last year.”

“Sam—he was one of the men who worked for us—said big outfits had hundreds of horses.”

“We only need that many when we do a cattle drive. You need to ask your ma if you can go with me to the barn.”

“She won't mind.”

“She doesn't know me or anybody else here. You've got to ask her.”

Ellen's shoulders sagged and she turned back to head inside to the parlor. Salty assumed that meant she thought her mother wouldn't let her go, but she was back in less than a minute with a smile on her face.

“Mama says I can help you as long as I don't make a pest of myself. She's going to ask you later, so you got to tell her I was good.”

Salty's eyes crinkled in amusement. “What if you're not?”

“I will be,” Ellen assured him. “If I'm not, Mama will make me stay inside and wear a dress.”

“Come on. I want to get done before the rain hits.”

On the short walk from the house to the barn, Ellen barely stopped talking long enough to take a breath. Salty had never had a little sister or even a young female cousin. His father's farm had been rather isolated so he'd never met a girl like Ellen. All the females he knew wore dresses, and rarely talked about anything except babies and taking care of their men. Unless she changed a lot, Ellen wasn't going to be much interested in either.

“Hold up,” Salty said when they reached the barn. “I want to put your ma's wagon inside.”

“I wish we had a barn,” Ellen informed him. “I could sleep there instead of in the house.”

Salty opened the two big doors. “You wouldn't like it much. In summer it doesn't smell too good. In winter it's cold, and sometimes mice and snakes like to snuggle up for warmth.”

“You're trying to scare me,” Ellen said.

“Nope. Lead the horse in. We'll unharness him inside.”

Once inside, Ellen's attention was caught by the stalls and the sections that housed ranch equipment. While Salty unharnessed the horse, she checked saddles, bridles, and harnesses. She spent longer inspecting several pairs of chaps before moving on to a wagon unlike any she'd ever seen. “What's this?” she asked.

“It's a chuck wagon,” Salty told her. “It's for our drive this spring.”

“I wish I could go on a cattle drive. Have you ever been on one?”

“Nope. The boys can't wait, but I'll take care of things here.”

“Why would you do that?” He'd obviously come down a notch in Ellen's estimation.

“Because I don't like sleeping on the ground, breathing dust, eating food with grit in it, spending the whole day in the saddle, fighting off Indians and rustlers, or trying to break a stampede.”

“Did you really fight Indians and rustlers?” Her eyes glowed with excitement.

“Yes, and it's not something I want to have to do again.”

“Why not?”

“I did enough shooting and saw enough killing during the war. Do you want to see the bull? He's the reason George built this barn.”

They went through a door at the far end of the barn. A chute led from the barn to a large pasture. “It took the better part of a month to fence in the pasture,” Salty explained, “but the bull is too valuable to let roam free. We bring him in every night to keep him from being stolen.”

Over the next twenty minutes Ellen peppered him with questions that made it clear she had become accustomed to doing the work that would normally have been her brother's. What's more, she seemed to like it. That confused Salty. He'd never seen a female who acted like she wanted to be a man. There wasn't much Rose couldn't do, but she didn't like cows and she was perfectly happy to confine herself to work around the house. He had no problem with a girl wanting to ride a horse or chase cows, but he didn't understand why a girl wouldn't want to be a
girl.
It would be tragic if doing what her brother couldn't do made her think of herself as more of a man than a woman. There was no place in Texas society for a woman like that.