Sweet Autumn Surrender Page 14

  “How ’bout trespassing?” Kale questioned. “You’re camping on my sister-in-law’s property.”

  When he mentioned her, Ellie stepped into the opening, showing herself. “If you’re hungry, you can come to the house and ask for food,” she said. “Otherwise, you’re not welcome here.”

  The men looked from Kale to Ellie and back again. “I know you,” one of them told Kale. “You’re that outlaw brother of Benjamin Jarrett’s.”

  “Call it any way you like,” Kale responded. “But the lady says you aren’t welcome, and this is her land. Get your gear together and hightail it.”

  “You won’t get away with this. Matt Rainey’ll eat you alive.”

  “I’m sending you on a little mission.” Kale ignored their threat. “You’re to take a message to the Raineys. Tell them that before Friday every Jarrett from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific will arrive here to bid Benjamin farewell. The Raineys may think I’m the outlaw of the clan, but wait till they meet my kin. Tell them we’ll make a call on the Circle R, and in the meantime to keep their men and horses off Jarrett property. And tell them I’m glad to see they shoed the puddin’-foot, but to keep him off Jarrett land anyhow.”

  The news didn’t set well with either man, Ellie could see that. But when Kale ushered them to their horses, she marveled at his command over the situation. His gun was drawn, yes. But she sensed it wasn’t really necessary.

  When he returned to the rock shelter his six-gun was holstered, the thong snapped, and he was in a jolly mood.

  “What did you learn from them?” she asked.

  “Their names. Actually, not even their complete names,” he corrected. “Ira and Till was all they said.”

  “And their reasons for spying on me?”

  He shook his head. “Not a word. My idea from looking them over is that they’re average cowhands, not hired guns, stationed as lookouts, ordered to keep an eye on things.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s the question I intend to put to Matt Rainey today. We’ll get this thing straightened out once and for all.”

  Once and for all…the words settled like stones in her heart.

  Kale crossed to the fire, where he tested the skillet for heat, then picked it up gingerly. “Ira and Till ride for the brand. They’re doing the job the boss gave them, and from the looks of things, they’d prefer to be punching cows. That’s my idea, anyhow.”

  He pierced a piece of bacon with a knife. “How ’bout something to eat?”

  She shook her head, laughing. “We just finished breakfast, remember? You must have a bottomless pit for a stomach.”

  He grinned sheepishly, but nevertheless bit off a hunk of bacon. “I’ve never been one to let food go to waste.”

  When she stepped back onto the ledge he followed and squatted on a rock, still holding the skillet and eating from it.

  She had never seen a man so ready to eat, nor one who enjoyed his food more. “Talk about me needing a man,” she said, joking easily now, “I think you need a woman.”

  He cocked his head. “Me? What for?”

  She hesitated only slightly while seating herself on the ledge and catching her knees up with her arms. “To cook for you. I don’t see how you get anything done by yourself; you must spend all your time cooking.”

  He laughed. “Starving is more like it.”

  She stared out over the valley. The sun had risen, warming the morning, warming her, helping her relax. She studied her house, thinking how much it meant to her. It was the only house she’d ever been able to call her own. Even though it had been built years before by people she’d never met, and even though it was now badly in need of repairs, it was still hers.

  “You could use someone to mend your clothing, too,” she added. “Or learn to do it yourself.”

  “Me?”

  “A man with only two good pairs of pants, one of them full of holes, ought to learn to use a needle.”

  He took another bite, talked around it. “I’ll swap talents with you. You teach me to use a needle, I’ll teach you to punch cows.”

  She started to tell him that the only thing she knew how to do with a needle was to thread it, but decided not to. “You don’t think I know how to punch cows?”

  He shook his head. “It’s doubtful.”

  She laughed at his honesty. “Yes, very doubtful. Benjamin never—”

  “Benjamin, rest his soul, didn’t know how to punch cattle either.”

  “He did too.”

  Kale studied her. “Now don’t go getting riled, Ellie. I meant no disrespect. But Benjamin spent most his life farming.” He looked back to the valley.

  “Don’t know why he decided to raise cattle, anyhow. Riding the pasture the last couple of days, I noticed things you’re going to have to learn—and change—if you want to hold on to this place.”

  He was right, of course: she couldn’t run a ranch without knowing the slightest thing about it. “You’ll teach me?”

  “Sure, that’s my business. Granted, I’ve spent most of my life working for others, but once I get to California, that’ll change.”

  The statement took her aback. She’d never even wondered why he was going to California. Truth be known, she suspected he’d invented the trip, an excuse to leave. “Why are you going to California? Or should I ask to whom?”

  “Whom?” His lips lingered on the final consonant.

  She grinned, but resisted the urge to look at him, continuing instead to stare out at the valley. “Whom?” She kept her tone playful. “Perhaps I worried too soon about you needing someone to cook and mend.”

  “The whom is a he. His name is Mack McKenzie, and he isn’t any better at using a needle or cooking than I am, I’m afraid. He’s an old friend. Before I left Fort Griffin, I gave him a stake to put into some venture he’s cooking up out San Francisco way.”

  “What kind of venture?” she probed.

  He shrugged.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose not. Depends on how much money you gave him.”

  “Everything I had,” he answered.

  “Everything?”

  “A puncher like myself doesn’t pile up a whole hell of a lot of money—”

  “Certainly not if you give it to every friend who comes along to invest in whatever venture he chooses. Don’t you worry about the future?”

  He turned to look at her. She felt it. She heard his heavy sigh. “The future, Ellie, is for men with…”

  His words drifted off. This woman wouldn’t let up, would she? He had to admit, though, the conversation had been pleasant enough up till now. “Men with responsibilities need to consider the future, not a man like myself, who’s—”

  “Hardheaded and footloose,” she supplied, knowing she was annoying him, determined now to turn the conversation back to a more neutral topic.

  Resting her head against the rock wall of the shelter, she inhaled a lungful of pungent fall air. A peaceful feeling diffused to some extent the anxiety that had eaten at her continually for the past few days. She closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her body.

  She heard him set the pan aside, heard grass rustle. When she opened her eyes, he had pulled a handful of bear grass and was cleaning the skillet. Afterwards, he took it back inside the cave, then returned and sat on the ledge like before. The mouth of the cave separated them.

  “How many do you think will come?” she asked.

  “How many what?”

  “The family…how many do you expect?”

  “Hard to say…all who can. Not much besides death and illness will keep them away.”

  Her eyes opened. “A houseful?”

  He shrugged.

  “Then we’ll have to get food and figure out where everyone will sleep—”

  “Ellie, don’t carry on so. They’re used to doing for themselves.”

  “Not when they’re guests in my home.”

  “They’re not co
ming for a party,” he objected.

  “I know, but they’ll have to eat.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry—”

  “And if they all eat as much as you do, we’re going to be in trouble,” she added, hurrying to cut off whatever it was he intended to apologize for. His apologies usually turned into a quarrel of some sort, and she didn’t want to quarrel. Not now that she was feeling comfortable.

  “Guess that means I’ll have to go hunting.”

  She felt his eyes on her again and turned to catch his smile. They worked well together, she thought quite without intending to. Quickly she stopped such fanciful thoughts.

  But they must have showed, she decided, for the instant she realized what she was thinking, her smile froze in place and she turned away. The innocence of the moment was lost. How hard it was to keep things simple around him.

  He moved first, bouncing to his feet, reaching to give her a hand. “Come on. That old sun’s almost half a day old, and here we sit like we didn’t have better things to do.”

  “What will you do with the rest of the day?” she asked when they rode up to the house.

  “First I’m going to pay a call on Matt Rainey. Then, if there’s time, I want another look around this place. That red clay on Benjamin’s boots had to come from somewhere.”

  Her eyes widened. In one movement she slid from the saddle, tossed her reins over the hitching rail, and ran for the house.

  “Where’s the fire, Ellie?” he called, taking time to properly hitch both their mounts before he hurried after her.

  They collided when she ran back out the front door. Grabbing his sleeve, she fairly dragged him to the edge of the porch. “Look at this.” She held a piece of limestone toward him.

  Taking the rock from her palm, he turned it over, studying the markings, what there was of them. He looked at her with a grin. “My talent is punchin’ cows, honey, not…”

  She blinked at the appellation, then looked down quickly. He hadn’t meant it like that, she chided. Lots of men called women “honey.” Why, she’d heard it a million times at the Lady Bug, dropped from lips that never knew the meaning of the word love.

  Kale cleared his throat. “I’m no mindreader,” he finished.

  With the greatest of efforts she regained her composure. “I know.” Taking the rock again, she ignored the warmth of his fingers when her own touched them. She sat on the porch and motioned him to follow. “This rock is important, Kale.”

  “I’m listening.” He sat beside her but made no attempt to touch the rock again.

  “I found it in Benjamin’s pocket, the pocket of the pants he was wearing when they returned his body.”

  Now he was listening. “Where did it come from?”

  “The painted cliffs.”

  He frowned. “But they’re—”

  “Two days away, like the red clay. I don’t know why I didn’t put the two together before.” Except that half her mind had been taken up with other things, she thought, anxious now that she might have let an important clue slip by.

  “No place on the ranch has Indian drawings?”

  She shook her head. “We’d have found them. Benjamin, Armando, and I’ve gone over every square mile, or near enough, looking for artifacts.”

  “I don’t understand what this has to do with Benjamin’s death,” Kale mused.

  “Neither do I, but it must fit. He collected these fragments, but he wouldn’t have carried one in his pocket that day. He had no reason to.”

  “Unless it was already in his pocket.”

  She shook her head. “I’d have found it when I washed.”

  He agreed.

  “The answer must be at the painted cliffs,” she said.

  “Why would he have gone up there without telling you?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I won’t be satisfied until I see for myself.”

  Kale sighed. “Two days away?”

  She nodded.

  “We can’t leave the place unprotected, Ellie. Certainly not before Friday, when we see what the Raineys are up to. As soon as the family comes to keep an eye on things, we’ll ride up there. Unless…”

  He stood, absently brushing the seat of his pants.

  “Unless what?” She rose to stand beside him.

  “Unless I can settle things with Matt Rainey before we leave.” He clamped his hat on his head. “I’ll be back in time for supper.”

  “I’m coming—”

  “Not this time.”

  She sighed. “At least wait until you’ve had some dinner.”

  He grinned. “Don’t you think I’ve eaten enough to hold me till supper?”

  She laughed at that.

  “And Ellie, that shotgun over the door is loaded. Use it if you have to.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise me?”

  She nodded.

  Before he took time to think, he bent forward, stopping himself before he’d gotten farther than her forehead, where he planted a quick kiss. “See you at supper,” he mumbled.

  She stood deathly still, not daring to move lest she betray her feelings.

  When he reached his horse, she stepped onto the porch, hugging her arms around one of the support posts. “Be careful,” she called.

  After he left, she fairly danced through the house. Her heart sang with the idea that what she suspected might indeed be true. Two slips in such a short time must surely mean something. Surely…

  With her lack of experience in the matter, she hesitated to make judgments, lest she be disappointed to discover her error. Her brain spun with dizzying speed—surely all men did not resist falling in love as stalwartly as did Kale Jarrett.

  Never mind. Now that she knew—or thought she knew, she cautioned—she’d figure out some way to help him over the hurdle. First, of course, she must not let him know she suspected.

  “And you must not let him know how you feel,” Lavender Sealy cautioned, sipping a glass of lemonade on the porch. She had arrived mid-afternoon to see what Armando Costello’s fuss was all about. “Keep him guessing until he’s fallen into the snare and can’t get out.”

  Ellie had finished a layer cake for supper and was putting the remaining antelope roast into a Dutch oven with carrots, potatoes, and onions from her garden when Lavender and Snake drove up in the surrey.

  Snake carried Lavender’s packages, and Lavender rushed forward, talking as she came. “I had to see for myself what Armando meant about this brother-in-law of yours being the most dastardly thing to hit town since the last hurricane.”

  “We don’t have hurricanes this far north, Lavender,” Ellie laughed, hugging the woman. How glad she was to have a woman’s company. And not just any woman. She could talk to Lavender. Lavender would understand and counsel, and Lord knew how she needed counseling.

  “I know, baby, but a jealous man can be as dangerous as a hurricane; two of them might be worse.” She scrutinized Ellie, turning up her nose at Ellie’s attire. “Jealousy, however, comes in handy in a pinch. It can be downright healthy for a man from time to time. How’re you holding up?”

  “Fine.” Ellie bit her bottom lip. So much to tell—where to begin? “Let me fix you something to eat.”

  Lavender shook her head. “We ate before we left. Fix us some lemonade while I show you what I brought.”

  Ellie complied. “But…”

  “Now Ellie, I won’t take no for an answer. When you married Benjamin I tried to give you some nice things, but you said I’d done enough—”

  “You had…have.”

  “And I’m fixin’ to do some more.” Speaking all the while, Lavender tore into the packages. “Of course, I ought to get to know the man in question before I encourage this thing.”

  “What thing?” Ellie teased, knowing full well what Lavender meant, feeling giddy and happy and in the mood to tease nonetheless.

  Lavender eyed her with cocked head. “Love, Ellie. Love and marriage.” At Ellie’s grin, she paused
. “Oh, pshaw, you know well enough. Where is he?”

  “He rode over to see the Raineys. Wants to hear from them why they’ve been harassing me.”

  “Good.”

  “Good that he’s gone to the Raineys? Or good that they’re harassing me?”

  “Good that he’s out of our hair for a while. He’ll take care of anyone who’s after you, if I read him right that day. His absence gives us time to do something about your appearance.”

  Ellie sucked in her breath at sight of the first gown Lavender withdrew from the brown wrapping paper. Truth be known, she had dreaded to see what Lavender brought. She certainly didn’t want Kale to come home to a dancehall girl. But she had worried needlessly.

  “I bought these things from Zofie Wiginton over at the Bon Ton. She ordered them a while back for that little wife of the preacher, you know, the one who took a week’s look at Summer Valley and ran home to Mobile.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Ellie set the pitcher of lemonade on the table and fingered the fine cotton fabric striped in yellow and white; the yellow stripes were figured with tiny white flowers.

  Lavender held it against Ellie’s sloppy shirt and breeches. The waist dipped to a vee; the bodice was attached to a rounded yoke and topped by a crisp white linen collar.

  Ellie held her breath. “Do you think it’ll fit?”

  “I know it will,” Lavender chided, pulling petticoats and pantaloons and two corsets and shoes and stockings from various bags.

  “So many things!” Ellie clapped her hands to her face. Her words stopped when Lavender proceeded to unwrap two more gowns—one a brown-and-white check, the other made of a rich russet material.

  “Too much,” she corrected.

  “Not enough, if your wardrobe is to be judged by the outlandish garb you’re wearing at the moment. He didn’t see you in that, I hope.”

  Ellie cringed, but her face brightened again at the sight of a chestnut-colored riding suit of fine wool with matching velvet collar and cuffs. The next item was a pair of boots to match.

  “Whatever will I do with such fine clothes?” she wailed.

  “Seduce him, of course. Isn’t that what you want to do?”

  Ellie blushed in spite of herself.

  Lavender pushed aside the unopened packages. “The rest can wait until later. Right now we have to get you into something presentable. Which will it be?”