A Marriage By Chance. Carolyn DavidsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
need a shorter horse, ma’am,” he said, his grin reminding her of the words he’d spoken in town.
“I can mount without help if I have to,” she said defensively, and then softened. “There’s something about this mare that appeals to me. She’s a little bit ornery, but I know her well. Her mama died when she was born, and I raised her with a bottle till we could get another mare to accept her. Besides, Hogan trained her well for me. She’s a good cow pony.”
“A little bit ornery, huh?” J.T. mounted his stallion and his eyes surveyed the prancing mare and the woman who rode her. “I’d say you nailed that about right.”
Micah Dawson wore a silver star pinned to his pocket, a star that hadn’t been polished in a very long time, J.T. decided. But the man who’d pinned it there didn’t appear to hold much with fancy fixings.
“We’ve hung more than one rustler in Ripsaw Creek, back in the old days,” he said mildly, but the hard look he turned on J.T. was not that of a pushover. His gun looked to be well cared for, and his horse was sleek and well tended. The man who hoisted himself into the saddle knew what he was doing, if Flannery knew anything about men in general, and lawmen in particular.
“You find tracks?” Micah asked, his horse setting a quick pace as the two men headed from town toward the Double B.
“Not much to go on,” J.T. said. “They cut across rocky ground, and by the time I got to the other side of the patch there were all sorts of prints. Hale Winters runs his cattle pretty close to the boundary line, same as Chloe and her father have for years.”
“Wonder if Hale’s missing any stock?” Micah’s eyes scanned the horizon as they rode, his hat pulled low to shade his eyes from the afternoon sun. “You know this running around is makin’ me miss my supper, don’t you?” he asked, casting a glance at J.T. He cleared his throat and adjusted his seat in the saddle. “Heard that Tilly was back at the ranch. Suppose she’s fixin’ fried chicken tonight?”
J.T. grinned, and after a moment allowed it to turn into a chuckle. There wasn’t any grass growing under the lawman’s feet. “I take it you’ve had your feet plunked under Tilly’s table more than once,” he said. “And,” he added, “as a matter of fact, I saw her killing two chickens this morning.”
“She’s a fine woman,” Micah said. “I hope John Biddleton’s resting easy in his grave, knowing that Tilly’s lending a hand at the ranch.”
“You’ve known her a long time?”
“She lived hereabouts when she was first married. Whole family came in on a wagon train. And then after she got her a husband, she moved south a ways. Hated to hear she was a widow lady, but—” his eyes warmed as he met J.T.’s gaze “—I can’t say I’m sorry she headed back this away.”
To the north, a rider appeared on the horizon, lifting a hand in greeting, and Micah muttered beneath his breath. “That’s Hale Winters now,” he said. “Something’s goin’ on. I’ll lay money on it.”
Across the wide expanse of open country, the rider traveled at an angle, the paths of the three men converging as they neared the long lane leading to the Double B Ranch. “Hey, Micah.” Chloe’s neighbor was a big man, hearty and good-natured, but if his scowl was any indication, his mood was anything but cheerful this afternoon.
“You got a problem?” Micah asked, pulling his mount to a halt as Hale left the stubbled field to join the two men.
“Damn rustlers made away with nearly twenty of my best cattle, and it looks like they did it in broad daylight.” He pulled his horse to a halt, and snatched his hat from his head, slapping it against his thigh. Beneath it his hair had matted against his skull, and he ran long fingers through its length. “I about sweat up a storm, tryin’ to chase them down. Lost them in the foothills, and I suspect they’re holed up in a canyon. Would’ve been stupid to make a target outta myself, riding in there.”
Micah frowned. “How’d you figure out what happened?”
“My men had ’em all rounded up, ready to cull ’em out and start in branding. Then some fool fired a gun and started ’em milling around and they scattered, some headin’ for the river, and my boys split up six different ways, trying to get things back in order. By the time they got things settled down, somebody noticed the count was down.”
“How many head you got out there?” J.T. asked.
“Couple hundred in that bunch, give or take. We already brought in the calves and yearlings. My breeding stock’s dropped pretty near fifty calves already. What those crooks got was prime beef.”
“Hell, so much for fried chicken,” Micah grumbled. “We’d might as well go take a look up by the high country, see what we can find.” He turned to J.T. “You got a couple men to spare for the rest of the day?”
J.T. nodded. “We’ll ride on out to where Tom and Corky have been working. I’ll send them along with you. You can take a look there, but I doubt there’s much more to see than what I found.” He urged his stallion into motion. “I’ll go to the house and let Tilly know to hold supper till we get back.”
“It’ll be late,” Micah said glumly, turning his mount to follow Hale back toward the north.
“She won’t care. Go on ahead and I’ll catch up.” Without waiting for an answer, J.T. loosened the reins and his horse headed up the long lane that led to the ranch. He quickly caught up with Chloe and explained the situation.
“I want to go with you,” Chloe said, her jaw set, her mouth firm. She was making a stand, J.T. figured, and sighed inwardly. Damn fool woman needed to learn how to soften up and let him handle the rough stuff. But apparently, this wasn’t the day to convince her of that fact. Hands on hips, she watched from the porch as J.T. watered his horse at the trough.
“I won’t stop you, Chloe,” he said, only too aware of the picture she presented. That was about half his trouble these days, he admitted to himself. She fit her trousers to a tee, and every time he got a gander at that round bottom of hers, not to mention the narrow waist and the generous curves of her bosom, he found himself thinking deep, troublesome thoughts.
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