Texas Brides Collection (59 page)

She nodded. “Go on.”

“He never lied or killed anyone that I knew about.”

“How much money did you two steal?”

He was afraid she’d ask that. “Twelve thousand.”

“I never saw any of it. My folks left me money to buy the ranch.”

They rode on in silence while Colt contemplated his miserable existence. No future.

“Did he speak to you about his family?” she finally asked.

“No. Didn’t know he had one until I looked you up.” He pondered over his conversations with Will, then turned his attention her way. “But he wasn’t unfaithful to you.”

A faint smile greeted him. “I’m glad to hear that. He always said he loved me and the girls. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I have another matter to discuss with you.”

Dread inched over him. The last topic nearly drained him.

“Do you think any other men might be looking for him because of money—or revenge?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“If you think of anyone, would you let me know? I have my girls and my ranch to protect.”

“Why did you give me a job?”

“God told me to hire you.”

“God?”

“Yes, the one we worship on Sunday mornings while you pretend to listen.”

He laughed. “That must be the one.”

“Someday when you least expect it, God is going to grab your attention.”

“Yes, ma’am. He’d have to shake me good.” “Oh, He can, Colt. And it wouldn’t hurt you to be talking to Him now and then.”

Anne kissed Nancy’s cheek, then watched her slip into dreamland. Her daughter had confessed to the tree adventure, not realizing her mama had seen the whole thing.

Nancy had sighed and folded her hands over her chest. “Mr. Colt helped me down out of that tree and held me like I was a baby kitten,” the little girl said.

“He must have thought you might break.”

In the lamp’s light, Nancy’s face grew strangely solemn. “I thought I might. Mama, I just kept looking up in that tree and wondering what it would feel like to sit in its branches like a bird. I couldn’t stop myself. Then the ladder fell, and I was scared.”

“Sweetheart, curiosity is good, but you have to back it up with a little common sense.”

“I’ll try, but it’s hard.”

Anne blew out the lamp. “Ask Jesus to help you.”

“I did—for the next time.”

“I’m proud of you. Now close your eyes. I’m going to sit right here until you go to sleep.”

Anne never tired of watching her precious daughters sleep, and she did so tonight until darkness concealed Nancy’s features and Colt’s face took over.

Buried beneath the hardened man was a soft heart. She’d seen it with Nancy today and heard about it from Clancy. All of Anne’s frettin’ hadn’t deterred Sammie Jo from chasing after Thatcher Lee, but Colt had handled Thatcher Lee quite nicely. Today he’d chosen his words carefully so as not to mar Will’s image. Anne liked that.

Her husband might not have obeyed the law, but he’d loved her and the girls. And she’d loved him, too. The times he’d been gone on business must have been the times he robbed banks and other folks who had money. She hated that part of his life. It made her feel dirty. The girls should never find out about their daddy—no reason for them to learn the truth.

Until recently Anne hadn’t looked at another man. Strange that Colt Wilson had captured her attention, but she liked his rugged looks and quiet mannerisms. Her heart must lean toward lawless men. He was rough and tough, and his language hadn’t been graced by the inside of a grammar book, but he had some good in him. She prayed the Lord would touch him for heaven before he got himself into trouble and was killed.

Anne made her way to the open window where a slight breeze swayed the curtains. Her gaze trailed to the bunkhouse. Loyal men lived there—men who respected her and worked hard. Had it all been worth the struggle of just day-to-day living? As she turned to leave Nancy to peaceful slumber, she caught the silhouette of a man staring up at the stars. She studied him and wondered if it was Colt contemplating the future, maybe thinking about her.

Odd that she should care.

Clancy, Thatcher Lee, and Colt rode around a grassy ridge and along a thick forest north of Double L land. Clancy had something on his mind, and twice he’d dismounted to look at the ground. Obviously his part-Indian eyes detected a trail.

“Where are we going?” Colt lowered his voice to speak to Thatcher Lee. He knew better than to worry a concentrating man.

“My guess is that he has an idea about those missing cows.”

“Glad I’m packing my rifle,” Colt said.

“I never killed a man.”

“Here’s hoping you don’t have to. But I tell you this, if it’s them or you, you’ll squeeze the trigger.”

Colt scanned the area around them. Between the woods and the rounded hills, unseen men could be watching their every move. He pulled his rifle onto his lap. Thatcher Lee did the same.

Clancy halted his horse and raised his hand, signaling for them to stop. For long moments, he observed the terrain and waited. Finally he motioned Colt and Thatcher Lee to see what he’d found. At the foot of the hill below them were Double L cows.

“Where’re Hank and Thomas?” Thatcher Lee asked.

“Not where I can see ’em.” Clancy slipped off his horse and led the animal into the woods.

The two men followed. Colt admired the old man’s skill and confidence.

“Thatcher Lee, you stay here while Colt and I do a little scouting.”

The young man frowned.

“You heard me. Colt and me have done this kind of thing before. I don’t want to be taking you back full of bullet holes.” He didn’t give Thatcher Lee a chance to argue but took off toward a path that led around the hill. Vultures circled overhead.

Neither man spoke. Their bodies blended into the sights and sounds of nature. Peacefulness always masked the stalking of trouble. They moved hunched over through the woods and crawled through the low-lying areas until they were within several feet of one of the grazing cows.

“I didn’t see a sign of anyone,” Clancy whispered. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t ready to ambush us.”

Colt pointed to a clump of trees adjacent to where they lay in tall grass. Clancy nodded. A cow bawled. Squirrels chattered. Birds sang. A sultry wind blew around them. The old sensation of excitement flowing through his veins swept over Colt as he made his way alone. All thoughts left his mind except the task before him. Once he made it alone to the other side, he drank in the surroundings.

His eyes narrowed. To his far right he saw a man sprawled face down on the ground. The grass was stained red. A few feet beyond him was another man on his belly. Brush hid the second man’s upper body. Two vultures picked around the area.

Colt studied the two men for signs of life. He motioned to Clancy and crawled closer. Once he joined him, they’d figure out what had happened here.

“Hank and Thomas,” Clancy said a short while later.

Both men had bullets in their heads, their hands tied.

“This is worse than what I thought,” Clancy continued.

“You and I both know about Will,” Colt said. “It’s been over five years since he died, but I can’t help but think this is related.”

A bullet whizzed past his ear. A second caused a gasp from Clancy as it ripped open flesh in his shoulder. A third lodged in Colt’s thigh.

“If you ever thought about praying, now’s the time,” Clancy said.

The fire burning in Colt’s leg fueled his temper. He yanked his rifle to his shoulder and fired repeatedly into the brush where the shots had come from.

“You go ahead and talk to God,” Colt said. “Ask Him to send Thatcher Lee our way and cover us while we hightail it back into those woods.”

Clancy aimed and fired. “That’s a start.”

G
od was looking out for you two,” Anne said once she’d yanked the bullet from Colt’s thigh and wrapped clean bandages around his leg. “I know He was.” Clancy winced as she dabbed whiskey on his open flesh. “That hurts as bad as the bullet tearing across my shoulder.”

“Don’t complain,” Colt said. “You weren’t the one she dug into with a knife.”

Sammie Jo peered over her mama’s shoulder. “That looks real bad, Clancy. Makes me wonder if you and Colt might up and die on us. Daddy’s leg didn’t look any better than you two.”

“Sammie Jo.” Anne whirled around to face her daughter. “I thought I asked you to pray for these two men, not bring death knocking at our door.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Colt’s leg throbbed, but he managed a nervous chuckle. “Sammie Jo, are you afraid of anything?”

“No, sir.”

He studied her young face, so stubborn and innocent. “Life’s hard, Sammie Jo. One day you’ll find what you’re afraid of. When you do, face it.”

She frowned at him. Oh, that gal had a lot to learn.

“Sammie Jo, you run along and draw water for Rosita,” Anne said. “I need to talk to these men.”

Once the girl had left the bunkhouse, Anne turned her attention to doctoring Clancy.

“We didn’t see anyone,” Clancy said. “If it hadn’t been for Thatcher Lee, we’d have been as dead as Hank and Thomas.”

Anne studied Thatcher Lee. “Did you see them?”

“No, ma’am. They were like ghosts. I kept firing into the brush where the shots came from while Clancy and Colt crawled away.”

“I’m not sure what to think about this,” she said. “Those men need burying but not at the risk of getting our men shot.”

Colt squeezed his eyes shut and tried desperately to forget the pain in his leg. Drinking the rest of that bottle of whiskey was mighty tempting, but Anne didn’t permit drinking—for any reason.

Colt cleared his throat. “We need to keep our eyes open until this is settled. I wonder about Hank’s and Thomas’s enemies and why they didn’t take the cattle.” He wasn’t about to mention Will’s name with Thatcher Lee standing there.

“Maybe this will get the sheriff off his lazy backside and doing his job,” Clancy said. “We’ll see him tomorrow morning at church.”

“Neither of you is going to church.” Anne wrapped a clean bandage around his arm. She nodded at Colt. “You can snore right through the sermon.”

“And I don’t have to take a bath?” Colt grinned through the pain in his thigh. He found himself captured by her deep blue eyes.

Anne shook her head. “No, you can smell like a dirty barn for another week.”

“Good,” Clancy said. “I have the whole morning to preach to Colt. High time that man knew about Jesus.”

“No rest for a wounded man?” Colt asked.

Anne laughed. “You two can pester each other for the next week. Because neither of you can smell trouble, I’ve got to help the other hands.”

Clancy chuckled. “I love your kind heart.”

Colt fixed his gaze on her. Was she lingering a little on him? Or was it his imagination? Maybe he’d grown weak in the head with the bullet wound. But for now he’d enjoy Anne’s special treatment.

The seriousness of the situation hit him hard. Anne and those girls were in danger. He knew it as well as he knew his own name.

Anne left the two alone to go help Rosita with dinner. Colt glanced at Clancy. Without asking, Colt understood the old man felt the same way. And here they were shot up like two mangled coyotes.