Sweet Autumn Surrender Page 17

  “She can’t run a ranch, anyhow,” Rubal continued his own argument. “I say we sell the stock and try to find a buyer for the place.”

  “Hold on.” Kale jumped up to face the group. “This is her place, her home. You can’t just—”

  “Benjamin was like a father to us,” Zachariah continued. “We owe it to him to take care of his affairs, meaning his ranch and his widow.”

  “You damned well won’t be taking care of her by selling off her land,” Kale fumed. His gaze pinned first one brother, then another. He paused at length on Uncle Baylor and Ginny’s husband, Hollis Myrick. “Don’t you two have an opinion?” he barked.

  “It’s best left to the brothers,” Hollis said.

  “The way Benjamin hung on words from the Good Book,” Uncle Baylor added, “I figure he’d want only brothers involved, seeing how there’s enough of you heathens.”

  “Five’s enough to make it fair,” Zachariah agreed.

  “Make what fair? What the hell are you talking about?” Kale’s anger escalated quickly.

  “The Good Book states clearly that when a man dies, his brother steps in and marries his widow. That is, if he’s unwed. In this case—”

  “Hold everything,” Kale cautioned. “That’s already taken care of. I intend to find Ellie a husband before I leave. You don’t think I’d run out on her, do you?”

  “Nope,” Zachariah replied. “But it ain’t your decision, Kale. Together we’ll decide which one of us would make the best husband for Ellie, while disrupting our own lives as little as possible.”

  “You sound like she has the plague or something,” Kale hissed.

  Zachariah shook his head. “She’s a comely lass, much to the relief of us all. And agreeable, or seems to be.”

  “Then if we’re not going to sell the ranch,” Jubal continued as though speaking his thoughts aloud, “whoever agrees to marry her will have to move here and run things.”

  “That pretty much leaves Zach out, since he’s committed to the stage station over on the Trace,” Rubal added.

  “No, I’ll take my chances,” Zachariah told them. “It’s my obligation to Benjamin. He was Pa to us all, me included.”

  “Obligation!” Kale stared around the room, his mouth ajar.

  “What about Carson?” Jubal asked, ignoring Kale as if he wasn’t even present.

  “Carson ain’t exempt neither,” Zachariah told them. “He never planned to stay in the ranger service for life. He’d be a good one.”

  “Hold on!” Kale yelled above them. “This is a woman’s life you’re talking about—”

  “And a man’s,” Uncle Baylor laughed. “One of you heathens is about to bite the dust.”

  “I told you I have it all worked out,” Kale repeated.

  “No,” Zachariah answered. “It wouldn’t be fittin’, an outsider taking over our obligation. Besides, Benjamin confided in me about her upbringin’ and we can’t be sure another man’d treat her with respect, considerin’ how she was raised up with a bunch of painted ladies.”

  “She wasn’t one of them!” Kale struggled to believe what his ears heard.

  “Even so, we can’t let her go back to that cathouse,” Jubal said. “Not after the way Benjamin took care of us.”

  “We know how you feel about things, Kale.” Zachariah’s voice was placating, or so it sounded to Kale. The room began to reel with words which had no meaning. When Zachariah continued, Kale felt as if a whirlwind had swept through, mingling everyone’s thoughts and words until nothing made any sense.

  “We’re going to let you out of it, Kale,” Zachariah was saying. “Don’t reckon your wanderin’ ways would lend themselves to settling down much.”

  “It’s obvious you’re fond of her,” Rubal added.

  “But Benjamin cut you loose once, and it wouldn’t be fittin’ for us to shackle you now.”

  “Let me out of what, for God’s sake? What the hell are you planning, Zach?”

  “A drawing,” Zachariah informed him. “We aim to draw straws to see which one of us marries Ellie.”

  Chapter Nine

  When Ellie awoke the next morning, Delta was curled up on the far side of the bed, sleeping soundly. Snuggling beneath the quilts, she absorbed the warmth and coziness she felt, knowing it came as much from the family gathered around her as from the bedcovers.

  She had lain awake long into the night pondering the events that had taken place since Kale’s brothers and sisters arrived. They’d accepted her as though they’d known her all their lives.

  Only Delta had mentioned the age difference between her and Benjamin, and even she took it to be the normal way of things. After Ellie came to bed the evening before, she and Delta had talked about it.

  “What was it like, being married to a man old enough to have been your father?” Delta had asked.

  “It was good,” Ellie answered. “Benjamin was a kind and generous man. He taught me things I didn’t have a chance to learn at the Lady Bug. I grew up without a father, too, so I…” She paused, recalling how she had told Kale that she sometimes wished she had been raised in Delta’s place. That seemed to have bothered Kale; perhaps it would Delta, too.

  Ellie redirected the conversation. “Benjamin talked about all of you so much I felt like I knew you even before you arrived.”

  Delta laughed. “I heard Kale tell Ginny how you recognized him by his blue eyes.”

  “You and Kale are the only ones I would have known on sight,” Ellie admitted. “But you’re all Jarretts, no doubt about that.”

  “Tell me about the Lady Bug,” Delta encouraged. “I’ve always wondered what one of those places was like.”

  Not in the least put off by Delta’s directness, Ellie complied by launching into a discussion of her life at the Lady Bug. Delta asked question after question, until the back door squawked and they heard boots cross the parlor and enter the spare room.

  “That’s Hollis coming to bed,” Ellie said. “We’d better get some sleep, too.”

  For an hour or more afterward she heard voices coming from the spare room where Ginny and Hollis had taken over Kale’s bed. The next morning Ginny joined her in the kitchen and together they began preparing the enormous amount of food it took to feed the assembled family.

  “Do you expect any more relatives to arrive?” Ellie sliced a side of bacon she had retrieved from the smokehouse.

  “Doubtful.” Ginny stirred batter for biscuits, then dropped the dough by spoonfuls into a Dutch oven to be placed in the coals in the fireplace. “I sent word to Cameron, a cousin over on the Missouri, but I doubt he’ll be able to make it. Kale said he wired Brady, another cousin who lives down in New Orleans.”

  “Are any of them pirates?” Ellie asked.

  “Pirates?”

  “Like in Rubal’s ballad. Benjamin never mentioned Anne Bonny.”

  “Oh, her,” Ginny laughed. “No, we have no other pirates in the family.”

  “I don’t know why Kale thought I would be offended,” Ellie mused. “Tell me about Anne Bonny.”

  “The facts are sketchy,” Ginny replied. “We aren’t sure whether what we’ve been told is truth or legend.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “Let’s see,” Ginny complied. “She was a pirate, like the song says, and she was in love with another pirate, Calico Jack. There were a number of women pirates in those days, and if caught, their fate was the same as the men, death by hanging. Unless, that is, the woman was with child. According to the tales, Anne Bonny was carrying Calico Jack’s child when she was arrested. Her baby, a girl, was born while she was in prison. She grew up to be our pa’s grandmother.”

  “What happened to Anne Bonny?” Ellie began breaking eggs into a wooden bowl.

  “After the baby came, she was hanged.”

  “How dreadful! Did Calico Jack raise the baby?”

  “No. Far as we know, he never even saw the child. He was later hanged, too. Likely that’s why Benjamin didn’t talk
about them. Ma always claimed that’s where Pa got his wandering ways.”

  Ellie gripped the wooden bowl with both hands. “And Kale,” she whispered.

  Ginny shoved the Dutch oven down in the ashes. Using a poker, she raked coals over the lid to ensure the biscuits would brown all around. “And Kale,” she agreed. “Leastways, that’s how Kale was made out to be. Don’t know whether it was his ancestors that marked him or the way folks thought of him. He and Delta both have Pa’s blue eyes, you know.”

  “The color of a person’s eyes doesn’t determine whether he roams the world or settles down,” Ellie insisted.

  “I agree. That’s why I took Delta and have tried not to let her think she’s going to turn out like Pa, irresponsible-like.”

  “Kale isn’t irresponsible,” Ellie objected. “He thinks he is, but he isn’t.”

  “No, not from what I’ve seen since we’ve been here. He acts like the whole show is his responsibility. But that could be because he knows it won’t last forever. Ellie, I don’t know what’s between you two.” She shrugged. “Something special, for sure. But I don’t want you to go setting your hopes—”

  The squawking door interrupted her. Ellie turned self-consciously to see Kale standing in the doorway. A sick feeling took hold of her at the thought that he might have overheard their conversation. One look at his face, however, told her it wouldn’t have mattered if he had. Ladies’ talk was far from his mind.

  Kale Jarrett was mad as a hornet.

  “Get your things together,” he barked at her. “We’re going.”

  “Going where?” she asked.

  “To the painted cliffs. I told you we’d ride up there as soon as the family came to look after the place.”

  “But—”

  “Time’s wasting, Ellie. We need to get on the road.”

  Pulling a deerskin riding skirt, cotton shirt, and heavy jacket from among the items Lavender had brought, Ellie recalled his promise. As soon as the family came, he said. Well, the family had been here a week, and this was the first he’d mentioned going to the painted cliffs.

  Ginny’s voice filtered through the hanging quilt. “You can’t run off without breakfast.”

  Whatever bee Kale had in his bonnet, it wasn’t letting go. “No time,” Ellie heard him say. She wondered at his gruffness. “We’ll need some food for the trail, though.”

  Ellie stuffed a change of clothing into a cotton sack. Back in the kitchen she found Kale busy packing a bag with loaves of bread and several slices of her applesauce cake. “I took some sausages and jerked meat from the smokehouse,” he told her, swinging the sack over his shoulder.

  He turned at the door. “Ginny, tell Zachariah to keep a watch on that cave and to stay alert for grass fires and such. Oh, and send someone into town tomorrow to see if the answers to my wires have come.”

  “Tomorrow?” Ginny questioned.

  “It’ll take us a good three days up and back.” He nodded at Ellie. “Let’s get going.”

  “You can’t drag her out of here like this, Kale,” Ginny called after them. “The poor girl hasn’t had time for more than a cup of coffee. Besides, she didn’t say she wanted to go with you.”

  Kale looked so startled Ellie almost laughed.

  His hand nudged her back, guiding her out the squawking door, sending tingles up her spine.

  “She does,” he barked over his shoulder.

  It occurred to her then that she hadn’t questioned him beyond what it took to grasp his meaning. She hadn’t hesitated to go with him, to comply with his demands.

  This was a new side of Kale Jarrett, commanding—demanding. Was he showing his true colors? His moody temperament persisted throughout the morning, and she began to admonish herself for falling in love with a man without first getting to know him. A moody man would likely make as poor a companion as a gunfighter.

  Since he didn’t speak, she didn’t bother to either until he started across Celery Creek about five miles from the house.

  “If you’re in such an all-fired hurry,” she called, “we ought to take this shortcut.”

  He drew rein, scanning the dim stock trail toward which she pointed. “You know the way?”

  She nodded. “The stage road circles way around. It’ll take an extra day’s travel. Unless we’ve had enough rain for Celery Creek to be up, this is the shortest route.”

  “Suits me.” He pulled rein, turned the bay, and headed toward the trail. Ellie kicked her horse to lead the way, but he stopped her.

  “Let me go first. Scare any bears out of the woods.”

  “Fine. But there are no bears where we’re going.”

  She followed him along the narrow trail, which forced them to ride single file. What difference did it make? she wondered. He wasn’t talking today anyway.

  After his confrontation with his brothers the evening before, Kale soaked in the creek to cool off, then sat on the limestone slab, considering the situation that confronted him. Where was the problem?

  Hadn’t he intended to find Ellie a husband? Wasn’t Zachariah right? One of his brothers would be the best choice. One by one he considered them, imagined each in turn married to Ellie.

  Anyone else he chose would be a stranger, and a man couldn’t tell about strangers these days. Besides, with Ellie fitting into the family the way she did, likely the girls would include her in family affairs from now on. Since she was Benjamin’s widow, Zachariah would probably include her and her husband in family business forever.

  Forever. That was a damned long time, he thought. A long time to be married to someone chosen for you by others, no matter how high-minded those others happened to be. A long time to be married to someone you didn’t love.

  The word came uneasily to his mind, settling over it like curdled milk. But it wouldn’t go away.

  Love.

  Damn it, Ellie deserved to marry someone she could love. Not the way she’d loved Benjamin, but the way she loved—

  He hung his head, clutched it firmly in both hands, attempting to dispel the word and all its images from his wretched brain.

  Love…the very word was enough to give a grown man the heebie-jeebies. Love was a woman’s word, a lady’s word.

  But wasn’t Zachariah right? Didn’t they owe it to Benjamin? Ellie had made him a good wife; now she deserved to marry a man she could love the rest of her life.

  The rest of her life. Damn it. He stared up at the stars glimmering through the barren branches of the cotton-wood tree. Nearby he heard a bullfrog karoomp and crickets chirp, and saw a few brave fireflies glitter in the evening chill.

  Ellie deserved to marry a man she could love forever. And that was a long time.

  He exhaled until his lungs felt empty, held his breath until they begged, then inhaled deeply, filling his body with the fresh, cool, sweet breath of life.

  Forever…too damned long to live without the woman you loved, seeing her married to another—to a brother—knowing you could have had her but were too ignorant or scared to take the chance.

  Forever…a damned long time to live with a wandering man. Time enough for that love to wither and die. Time enough for a woman to wither and die along with it.

  While he sat on the slab pondering the uncertainty webbing around him, the moon faded and the sun began to rise. Finally, still far from certain what he was about, he pulled himself up off the slab and headed for the barn, where he saddled two horses. Then he rinsed his face at the well and went to the house to fetch Ellie.

  All he knew for certain was that he had to get away from here. He had to get Ellie away before Zachariah held that stupid drawing. What would a woman like Ellie think, to see grown men drawing straws for her?

  Following Celery Creek they entered a ravine and wound around the base of the hills. Here and there rock slides or patches of dense brush forced them to ride in the middle of the creek, which was rocky and at this time of year, shallow.

  From behind, Ellie watched Kale glance periodically
toward the hilltops rising above them on either side. She realized he was wondering if she really knew the way. Well, let him wonder…if he got curious enough, perhaps he’d ask. Even a question about the trail would be conversation.

  The sun was already high overhead, glinting down in the middle of the stream, when her stomach began to growl. It reminded her of their missed breakfast. She sighed, her aggravation at his sulkiness growing with her hunger. What sense did it make to ride all day without food, just to outlast a temperamental man?

  “Would you hand me a piece of that jerky from your saddlebags?” she called ahead.

  He turned to stare at her blankly. When he understood her question, he drew rein. “We should water the horses anyway.”

  After drinking from the creek, Ellie looked into the sack Kale brought from the house. “How about some sausage and bread?” she asked.

  “Dole it out sparingly,” he cautioned. “We don’t want to run out of food before we get home.”

  She eyed his saddle gun. “You could kill something.”

  He shrugged, remounting. “Could.”

  They followed the afternoon sun toward the western horizon. At times it was obscured by hills and brush; other times it broke through in great streams of light that dazzled their eyes and sparkled like gemstones on the water of the creek.

  Finally the draw they followed turned north and still they rode in silence. The sun had begun to sink below the hills when she recognized the place where she had camped before with Benjamin and Armando. Briefly she debated whether to point it out, then she plunged ahead.

  “There’s a good campsite in that thicket over there,” she called forward, “with grass enough for the horses.”

  Never having seen Kale in such a mood, she wasn’t sure he would even answer. After her words registered, though, he did.

  “Fine.” Without a backward glance, he headed for the thicket she had indicated.

  Contemplating that one word, she nudged her horse to follow his. His voice hadn’t sounded as sharp as in the kitchen this morning, but of course it was hard to tell, since he’d spoken only one word in the last three or more hours. Whatever was eating at him hadn’t let up, she was certain of that.