A Rancher of Convenience Read online

  As if he realized it, Hank gave her arm a squeeze. “Now, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Neither was Lucas,” she pointed out.

  He dropped his hand. “I’m not Lucas Bennett. I’m no thief.”

  Yet he probably felt like one, looking through a dead man’s belongings. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t cleaned out Lucas’s things. It made her feel as if she was robbing him.

  “I never said you were a thief,” Nancy told him. “But accidents happen. People get sick. There are many ways to be parted. All I’m asking is that you don’t go looking for trouble.”

  A smile threatened one corner of his mouth. “And here I thought trouble was my middle name.”

  Nancy touched his hand. “Don’t tease me, Hank. I’m serious. Lucas got involved in rustling and ended up dead. Please, be careful. The baby and I need you.”

  He lowered his gaze to her belly. “And how is the little feller this afternoon?”

  She loved the way his voice softened when he spoke about the baby. “Feeling his oats. He’s kicked me three times already.”

  His gaze jerked up, and he stared at her. “He kicks?”

  She couldn’t help giggling at his reaction. “Yes. And he twists and wiggles, and sometimes I think he’s practicing for those dances you promised him.”

  He stepped back, pushing his hat up on his forehead. “You’re joking.”

  “Not at all.” She reached out and took his hand, then pressed it to her waist. He stood frozen like a rabbit caught outside its den, unsure of the danger.

  “Wait a moment,” she encouraged him, feeling the twitch starting.

  And then the baby moved, a gentle ripple inside her. Hank pulled back, mouth agape.

  “I felt that.” The words came out awed.

  “So did I,” she promised.

  “Is he supposed to be doing that?”

  Nancy smiled. “My mother said a moving baby is a good sign. I just wish he’d watch where he puts his feet. Now, I should leave, or I’ll never have time to visit at the quilting bee.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” He followed her from the room and paced her down the hallway, the chime of his spurs a counterpoint to the thud of his boots against the plank floor. How nice to have a gentleman beside her, looking out for her, sharing the amazing start of her child’s life.

  She couldn’t lose Hank.

  She shoved the panicky thought away. He was here now. That’s what she wanted to appreciate.

  His hand on her elbow, Hank escorted her down the steps and to the wagon. She’d tied the horses to the corral fence, but they were fretting as they waited.

  “Be careful now.” The words came out despite her best efforts as she and Hank reached the wagon.

  In answer, he put his hands to her waist, his touch gentle and reverent, and lifted her to the bench. Eyes as sharp as sapphires cut across her gaze.

  “I’m always careful,” he murmured.

  She wanted to believe him. If only she could trust the evidence of her own eyes, listen to the advice of her heart. Yet both had proven dangerously untrustworthy.

  Would he?

  * * *

  Hank made himself smile up into Nancy’s troubled gaze. He’d given her every reason to trust him, but telling her he still hoped to catch Lucas’s accomplice had frightened her. Her reaction would be worse if she knew he’d pocketed that key. But how else was he to learn where Lucas Bennett had been selling the cattle?

  He went and untied the horses, then handed her the reins. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” she said with a smile. As Hank stepped back, she clucked to the horses, who happily turned the wagon to head off down the road.

  He saddled up and rode out to where Upkins and Jenks were watching the herd. He showed them the key, but both agreed with him that it didn’t belong to any building or chest on the ranch.

  “Puts me in mind of a key I saw once, when I was coming off a big roundup in Abilene,” Upkins said, frowning at the chunk of brass. “Opened the door to a room in a fancy hotel.”

  “Nearest fancy hotel is in Burnet or Austin, I reckon,” Jenks put in.

  Hank didn’t think Lucas had frequented Austin. He hadn’t been gone long enough on any of his disappearances to have ridden to the city, and he’d never taken the train to Hank’s knowledge. On the other hand, Lucas had made no secret of the fact that he rode to Burnet on a regular basis, and that town was the location of the Empire Bank, where he had taken the loan that had landed them in this fix.

  It looked as if Hank needed to visit Burnet.

  Nancy wasn’t going to like the idea. She had come to rely on him around the ranch. And very likely him going to Burnet would remind her of how Lucas had left her alone so many times. Hank needed a way to ease into the conversation.

  So he decided to make dinner for her.

  He hadn’t smelled anything cooking when he’d been in the house earlier, which meant she intended to do all the work when she returned from the quilting bee. Leaving Upkins and Jenks with the herd, Hank rode back to the house.

  This time, he came in through the back door, to the kitchen that was all Nancy. Though it too was neat and tidy, the pots hanging from hooks on the wall looked ready for use, not decoration. A quick peek in the pantry told him just what to do. He had never cooked back in Waco—his family had a staff in the big ranch kitchen—but he’d learned to throw a few things together over the fire, and he’d tried his hand at finishing up what Upkins had begun. He could do this.

  He had everything about ready when he heard the rig coming in. Jenks had already ridden in, so Hank had the cowboy help Nancy with the wagon and team while Hank kept working. A few moments later, and she was in the kitchen with him.

  She looked as pretty as a picture, cheeks pink from the wind, eyes nearly brown over her cinnamoncolored jacket. She stopped by the table and frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Fixing you dinner,” he said, turning the steak in the pan to a satisfying sizzle. “You just put your feet up. Everything will be ready soon.”

  She removed her jacket and came to the head of the table. Glancing over, he saw she was still frowning.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “No, I...” She looked up at him. “You moved the place settings.”

  That he had, and about time too. He was tired of gazing at her clear the length of that table. “It’s hard talking to you from so far away,” he said. “I figured since I was cooking, it was my choice.”

  She nodded, then took her seat.

  He served her a generous slice of the steak, plus golden fried potatoes.

  “Hope you don’t mind johnnycake,” he said as he added the flattened corn bread to her plate. “I wasn’t sure I was up to biscuits.”

  “It looks delicious,” she assured him.

  He took a seat beside her. “How about you say grace tonight?”

  She bowed her head and clasped her hands. “Be present at our...wait.” Hank heard her draw in a breath before she started over. “Dear Lord, thank You for this food. Thank You for helpers to come alongside us when we need them. Most of all, thank You for Your endless provision to Your children. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Hank echoed before picking up his knife and fork and cutting into the steak.

  Her cuts were more dainty, refined. She was a lady through and through. She glanced up and caught his gaze on her. “What?”

  He smiled and returned to his food. “Nothing. Just glad you seem to like it.”

  “It’s very good,” she assured him. “Is this what Mr. Upkins generally cooks?”

  “Yes, ma’am. But he can bake biscuits heavy enough to sit with you for two or three days.”

  She giggled. He loved that sound almost as much as he loved seeing her
smile. But with her in such a good mood, maybe now was the time to make his suggestion.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he started. “You’ve been working hard. We should do something fun.”

  He thought she might protest, but she brightened. “Oh, that would be wonderful. You could take me out to see the herd.”

  That wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. “I was thinking of a trip, say to see the sights in Burnet.”

  She made a face. “I’d rather go see the cattle. I haven’t felt up to staying with you all morning, but I could manage an hour or two. I’m supposed to be learning, after all.”

  Much as he was itching to discover the secrets of that key, he couldn’t fault her logic. In fact, he was rather proud of her tenacity in trying to understand this enterprise she’d been left. And with her beside him all morning, he’d have other opportunities to convince her to go with him to Burnet or let him go alone.

  “All right, then,” he agreed. “It would be my pleasure to take you and the little feller out to see the cows.”

  She put a hand to her belly. “I’ve been thinking too. We should name him. We can’t keep calling him little feller forever.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll leave that to you. Cowboys name critters, not babies. Unless you want him called Wild Eye or Snake-Killer.”

  She shuddered, but he could see it was all in fun. “No, thank you. I was thinking Ben.”

  He nodded. “Like Bennett, for his pa.”

  “For both his fathers,” she corrected him. “His last name will be Snowden, after all.”

  Warmth filled him. “That’s right.” And the thought still amazed him.

  She rose and picked up her plate. “Now, you let me clear the table. Then we’ll both have some of Lula May’s famous lemon cake. She sent two pieces home with me from the quilting bee.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Hank said. He started to lean back in the chair, tilting it off two legs, then remembered where he was and set it down. Nancy was a good influence. His mother would be delighted to know he still recalled how to be a gentleman. But he thought she’d feel the same way Nancy did if she knew he intended to stop the rustling.

  * * *

  The next morning, as he’d promised, Hank collected Nancy, and they headed out onto the range. She wore a brown dress with strips of green and yellow diamonds running down it, her cinnamon-colored jacket over the top. Her hair was confined behind her head, and she’d tied on a coffee-colored sombrero with fringe on the brim to shade her.

  With the rising sun warming their faces, he drove the wagon with Belle tied behind. Upkins and Jenks had gone ahead to round up a few head of cattle and drive them closer to the house so Nancy wouldn’t have to travel so far to see them.

  “Is that Rosebud?” she asked as she and Hank joined the group. Upkins and Jenks had brought the cattle into a small clearing surrounded by oaks and were riding along each flank to keep the small herd from wandering. A shame Bennett had refused to allow them a dog, claiming all cattle dogs were flea-ridden curs. He’d have to bring up the subject to Nancy, see if they couldn’t find a good herder from one of the other ranchers.

  Hank nodded now toward the cow that was contently grazing on grass that had sprung up in the September cool. “The lady herself in all her glory.”

  The roan-colored longhorn raised her head and regarded Nancy as if acknowledging her own worth.

  “She’s a fine cow,” Nancy said.

  “The queen of all she surveys,” Hank agreed. “But don’t let her fool you. She weighs in at more than one thousand pounds of pure muscle. Those horns can rip a man’s leg open from ankle to thigh.”

  “I see.”

  The words came out so strangled that he turned to look at Nancy. She was as white as a bone bleached in the sun, and both hands were pressed over her belly as if protecting the life within.

  What was he thinking? “I’m sorry, Nancy. I didn’t mean to scare you. You can trust that Upkins and Jenks and I know what we’re doing. We’ve been riding herd for years.”

  Her hands relaxed to her sides. “No, I should be the one to apologize. I shouldn’t be so afraid of a few head of cattle.”

  “Now, there we disagree,” Hank said, shifting on the bench. “Cattle can be trouble, pure and simple. And you have every reason to be cautious, what with little Ben and all.”

  She sighed. “I’m finding it hard to be cautious and still learn to run a ranch.”

  “Once Ben is born, I’ll help you learn to ride and rope and do anything else you want on the range,” he promised. “It’s just right now, you need to be careful. So, let’s see what you can learn from here.” He glanced about, then nodded toward Rosebud. “I mentioned to you that we brand them in the spring. That tells a cowboy whose beast he’s watching. Clyde Parker is making a catalog of all the brands in this area. See there, high on Rosebud’s flank? That’s your brand, a diamond canted with the wind, like on the gates.”

  “The Windy Diamond,” she said with a smile. “I always wondered why Lucas named the ranch that.”

  “Well, Mr. Bennett was fond of the finer things in life,” Hank pointed out. “And the wind does whistle down the canyons.”

  Rosebud swung majestically to the right for another clump of grass. The rest of the cows followed her.

  “Why do they do that?” Nancy asked. “She’s a fine cow and all, but why did they decide to follow her? And don’t give me that story about her tail again.”

  As if Rosebud knew she was being discussed, she twitched her tail.

  “They trust her,” Hank explained. “She’s one of the oldest and largest in the herd. Cows generally fear what they don’t know. They know her, and she’s seen enough that little rattles her.”

  Rosebud strolled past Upkins and his horse, obviously comfortable in his presence.

  “And she knows and trusts you all,” Nancy said. “That’s why she isn’t afraid.”

  He had never thought of it that way. Did the cow know him and Upkins and Jenks? Rosebud had certainly seen them around often enough. Did she realize they regularly scouted the best grazing, the most reliable water? That they patrolled the fence line to keep it firm so she wouldn’t wander from home? That they cleared out the snakes and coyotes that might prove a danger to her and her young? Did she respect their role on the range as they respected hers?

  “Well, I always had a soft spot in my heart for a pretty lady,” Hank teased Nancy.

  She blushed. The color reminded him of the rosy ripe peaches she’d picked from the trees behind the house. He wasn’t surprised when she changed the subject.

  “Has the league set the date for roundup yet?” she asked, watching as Jenks urged a straying calf back into the group.

  “In three weeks,” Hank told her. “With the new rail spur, we don’t have to drive them as far as we used to. We’ll join our herd with theirs and drive them up to holding pens outside of town, then they can take a little ride into Waco, where the buyers will look them over and make us an offer.”

  “Will they all go?” She sounded positively wistful at the idea of losing some of the herd.

  “Only the steers big enough to bring a good price,” he told her. “We’ll leave the mamas like Rosebud safely behind.”

  She bumped her shoulder against his arm. “See? I told you she knows who to trust.”

  “I think she favors Upkins,” Hank said with a nod toward the old-timer. Rosebud had begun heading west, and Upkins rode in front of her and reined in his horse. For a moment, the big longhorn and the cattle pony stared at each other.

  “Will she charge?” Nancy asked, hand on the chest of her striped gown.

  “Not unless she thinks he’s threatening her calf,” Hank predicted.

  Sure enough, the longhorn turned and shuffled back toward the rest of the herd.

/>   “You called them babies,” Nancy said, shaking her head so that the fringe on the sombrero bounced. “But I think they mind a great deal better than some children I’ve met.”

  “Wait until you get between them and water,” Hank predicted. “Or something spooks them on a dark night. Not much you can do then but hang on to your saddle and pray.”

  “You pray well,” she said. “I admire how you say grace.”

  Hank reared back. “Me? I just speak my mind.”

  “That’s just it,” she insisted. “I never met anyone who spoke their mind to God. I always thought God was someone majestic, perfect. A little big and a little scary.”

  “Like Rosebud,” he concluded.

  She sucked in a breath, and he hurried to reassure her. “I wasn’t trying to blaspheme. But when you ride out at night, all alone among the oaks, never knowing what’s going to come running at you, you start to throw off big words and pious thoughts. You just think, Father, help me! Never knew the Lord to ignore a cry like that.”

  She bowed her head, and he wondered what was going through her mind. Was she praying right then? Or just mulling over his words? Thinking back, he realized he probably sounded preachy. What did he know about religion and praying, after all? He’d always attended church with his family, been raised on the Golden Rule. But it had taken five years of riding herd for him to make his peace with the Almighty.

  “Hey!” Upkins called, waving his hand north. “We have a runner!”

  One of the younger steers had bolted, hindquarters hitching as it pounded through the brush.

  Nancy’s head jerked up, and she stared at the steer. “What do we do?”

  “Go after it,” Hank said. He handed her the reins and jumped down. Untying Belle, he swung up into the saddle and urged the horse into a gallop.

  He was showing off, but it felt good to fly. Belle ate up the ground, hooves churning dirt. Wind in his face, they closed in on the steer. He yanked his lariat off the saddle horn, then swung it overhead. Once, twice, let go! It sailed out to settle over one of the steer’s horns. Hank pulled it tight, reining in.