Redemption's Edge (25 page)

“And this?”

Dax understood her confusion and felt horrible for making the break more difficult. He’d meant for it to be a quick kiss, something they’d both remember. Instead, it had exploded into an unanticipated, passionate embrace, leaving him reeling. He glanced away before locking his gaze back on her.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. When I’m with you, it seems all good sense leaves me.”

She continued to stare at him, disbelief and anger replacing the passion of moments before.

“You were right. Being with you makes the inevitable worse. You’re a part of Splendor, and I’m an outsider. No matter how I try to make myself think otherwise, I know it won’t happen.”

“I see.” She moistened her lips, struggling to find a way to hide the extreme ache and disappointment she felt at his words. The reality he’d made his decision slammed into Rachel, stripping away her breath and paralyzing any attempt at further speech. If she tried to speak, she knew tears would flow and she absolutely refused to cry over this man. She slipped closer to the clinic door and reached for the handle, grasping it tight as if it could provide her the strength she needed, and turned the knob.

“Rachel, wait.” Dax reached for her, but she stepped further away and into the open doorway. She stopped and turned toward him, waiting.

He pulled off his hat and ran a hand through is hair, searching for the right words, words that would make her understand his need to build a life outside of Splendor.

“This, a ranch in Montana, isn’t what I’d planned or wanted. We came as a promise to a friend, with no intention of staying.” His strained voice vibrated with tension and regret. “Meeting you…” His voice trailed off as he moved toward her. “You weren’t supposed to happen.”

Rachel’s chest tightened, making it hard for her to breathe. She had no idea where her words came from as her chin jutted out and her eyes, firm and intent, held his. “I understand. This town is a mere stop on your journey, as am I.” She backed up, obscuring her damp, pain-filled eyes in the darkness of the clinic. “I’ll keep you no longer.”

The door closed and Dax heard the lock click. It sounded as final as the ache in his heart he feared would haunt him well beyond his return to Texas.

Chapter Thirteen

Luke paused in his work of cleaning his horse’s hooves as a lone rider approached. Gabe Evans had visited twice in the last four days. He hadn’t expected to return today, and Luke’s stomach tightened at the prospect he may be relaying news about Bull. He dropped Prince’s hoof and straightened.

“Gabe. Didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“It’s Bull.” The sheriff slid off Blackheart and walked the few feet to stand in front of Luke. “He’s awake, yelling for someone to get him back to the ranch.” A smile split Gabe’s face. “That boy is a handful when he gets agitated.”

Luke couldn’t contain the breath he’d been holding and let it escape in a whoosh. “I guess we’d better help the doc and Rachel out. Get our cowboy off their hands.” He returned Gabe’s grin and motioned for him to follow. “Let’s tell Dax.”

Luke opened the door to the study where Dax stood, staring down at some papers on the desk.

“Great news. Bull’s doing well and he’s ready to come home.” Luke walked around the desk and looked over his shoulder. “What do you have there?”

Dax glanced up and nodded at Gabe, but didn’t reply to Luke. He folded the papers and shoved them in a pocket. “That is good news. Why don’t you take a couple of the boys and a wagon to pick him up? I’m sure the doc is more than ready to get him out of there.”

Luke’s narrowed gaze focused on his brother. “I thought you’d want to go. You know, see Rachel. You haven’t been to town in several days.”

“No. You’ll have to go without me. I’ve some things I need to finish up here.”

Luke didn’t budge. Dax’s mood had deteriorated every day since the last time he’d visited Bull. The brusque behavior and almost dismissive attitude weren’t unusual, except Luke suspected it had more to do with Rachel than anything else this time. He turned to Gabe.

“I’ll be right out. I need to speak with Dax about something.”

Gabe turned and walked back outside.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on? And don’t say nothing because I’ll know it’s a lie.” Luke crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet shoulder width apart.

Dax slumped into a chair and leaned back, glancing out the window toward the barn where Gabe stood talking to Ellis and Rude. He shifted his gaze to Luke.

“I plan to head back to Texas as soon as the ranch business is handled. The plans I made are there, not here.”

Luke had been prepared for something, but not the announcement his brother would be leaving. “And when were you going to tell me?”

Dax saw the anger begin to form on his brother’s face, and he regretted his procrastination in letting Luke know his plans.

“Today.” He pulled the papers out of his pocket and threw them on the desk. “These sell my rights in the ranch to you for one dollar. You pay a dollar, we both sign, the ranch is yours. Simple and clean.”

Luke didn’t speak. He walked to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He downed one glass, then poured another before facing Dax.

“That’s crap and you know it. First, you want to turn everything in Savannah over to me and ride out alone. That didn’t happen. Now you want to do the same with the ranch.” He finished his whiskey, stomped to the desk, and slammed the glass down, creating a scar in the wood from the impact. “The same applies here. It’s not going to happen. I’m not buying you out, not even for a measly dollar. Whatever is under your skin, you damn well better work it out because I’m not giving you what you want.”

Luke cursed under his breath, pushed his hat on his head, and stormed from the house.

Dax watched him leave. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Luke this angry. He scooped up Luke’s glass, filled it to the brim, and downed the whiskey in one gulp, taking a measured breath as the liquid burned its way down his throat. He began to pour another, then stopped and slumped into a chair, resting his head on the back and staring at the ceiling.

Hell, why didn’t anyone understand his life lay in Texas? Not Montana, not Savannah, and not anywhere he’d be responsible for people’s lives—and deaths. Watching Bull hover between life and death convinced Dax his desire to walk away from being responsible for others was the right decision. He wanted a simple life, where his decisions and orders to others were few. For now, his work as a Ranger suited him fine.

Maybe he’d buy a home outside of Austin. A small place with one ranch hand and nothing more. Someone who knew the job, asked few questions, and required little guidance. A man he didn’t have to lead.

“Hell,” he murmured under his breath. He stood to look outside as Luke and a couple of men left with Gabe and the wagon. His natural instincts urged him to lead the charge, set the direction, and march toward his goal without hesitating. But now, at this point, he felt bone tired with the weight of too many commands and tough decisions, over too many years, pressing down on him. He needed time, a respite from being at the front, from being the man everyone looked to for direction and guidance.

“Dax?”

He jerked at Bernice’s voice and turned to see her holding out a cup of coffee to him.

“Hank would like to speak with you, if you have time.”

Dax took the cup and walked toward the kitchen, sitting next to the ranch manager. Hank had started working full days the week before and already seemed like a different man. Being cooped up too long could work on a man in a bad way.

“I hear Bull’s doing better, ready to come home.” Hank glanced at Bernice and caught her slight nod.

“That’s right. No doubt you saw Luke, Ellis, and Rude ride out with the wagon. Now we’ll be the ones to put up with his nasty temper until he heals.” Dax sipped his coffee and waited for Hank to say what was on his mind.

Bernice pulled out a chair and sat next to her husband, putting a hand over his. Warning bells rang in Dax’s head, yet he continued to stay silent.

“You know, we’ve been here a long time. First with Pat, now you and Luke. It’s been good, Dax, real good, but Bernice and I, well…we think it’s time we moved on.”

Dax set his cup down and leaned his arms on the table, staring into Hank’s eyes and seeing the man’s struggle. He knew they’d lost their only child to cholera years before. They had no other family, no grandchildren to visit, and he wondered at the real motivation to leave.

“Is it the pay?”

“No, the pay is good. The house you provide is fine. You and Luke are more than fair. No complaints about anything. We’re not getting any younger, and this last bout with a bullet wound took a lot out of me.”

Bernice squeezed Hank’s hand. “You and Luke are fine people and that makes the decision hard. Truth is, we’re ready for some peace. Find a place where Hank can fish, and I can catch up on my sewing.”

“I can’t fault you for wanting to slow down, enjoy yourselves. How old are you, Hank? Forty, forty-five?”

Hank snorted. “I’ve got a couple years before I reach fifty.”

“Fifty, huh? That means you’ll most likely be around another twenty years or so, right?”

“Maybe…” Hank’s voice held a cautious tone.

“And you’re going to fish every day for the next twenty years? Sitting on the bank alone, praying for a bite and reminiscing about all the things you did before?”

“Well, I’m sure there’ll be other chores. You know, stuff Bernice needs done.”

The hesitancy Dax heard in Hank’s voice and the way Bernice squirmed in her seat made him wonder if this might be more about Bernice than Hank. She sat up nights, sent unending prayers, and worked tirelessly to keep Hank comfortable after the shooting. Her concern and care had touched everyone.

“You know, there might be other choices.” Dax let the sentence hang. He could see Hank’s throat working, as if he wanted to say something, but held back. “You could do work around here which wouldn’t require riding out with the herd, managing the men.”

Hank shot a quick look to Bernice and leaned forward. “Like what?”

“It’s no secret Luke and I have talked about expanding the ranch. We’ve already added to the herd from what we bought off the Murtons. We can see the place doubling in a year, then doubling each year afterwards. Luke’s good with business, planning our next steps, but hates keeping the books. I’m better with hiring the men, getting them to do the right work when needed.”

He stopped to listen to himself. Isn’t that exactly why he’d made the decision to leave? He shook his head and continued, “We need someone to handle the supplies, do the books, and keep us on track with the money. That should still leave you plenty of time to fish.” He looked at Bernice. “The boys can take care of their noon meal, but they need breakfast and supper. That will free you up to do your sewing.”

“I can’t do that.” Bernice threw him a disbelieving look, challenging him to argue. “Those boys need three hot meals a day, unless they’re out on the trail. I can’t just give ‘em two.”

Dax fought a smile at her offended tone. “I’m saying we can make some changes around here that I believe might work for you. Besides, we all know you aren’t going to find any better fishing than what’s right here on the ranch.”

“I can’t take the same pay for doing the books and keeping the supplies current.” Hank’s disgruntled voice came through real clear.

“What would you say is fair?”

“We stay in the back house. I get half the pay and Bernice gets two-thirds pay. She gets weekends off and does those boy’s laundry once a week. That’s a good offer.”

Dax reached a hand across the table. “Done.”

Hank clasped his hand and sealed their bargain.

“I guess I’d better get back to my work. You’ve made a good decision.” Dax walked out, glad to have the matter settled. Now he needed to finalize a few more issues with Luke, then he’d be off to Texas.

Doc Worthington helped Bull into a clean shirt Rachel had found in a drawer. It barely fit the bulky cowboy, but it looked a whole lot better than the shirt he’d been wearing when he arrived.

“You need some help, Bull?” Luke offered and started to reach for the front buttons.

Bull slapped his hands away. “I got it. I’m not helpless.”