Not the Marrying Kind, page 3
No such luck.
With a slow, graceful flick of his wrist, the man turned his horse, urging it up the pathway toward her.
Any other woman would have been frightened, but fear had never been part of Kat’s nature. Years of riding, roping, and wrangling with her brother and the boys on the ranch had made her brash and bold. But fearlessness brought its own dangers. Kat’s roughneck ways had robbed her of her femininity. She didn’t possess the keen intuition a woman was supposed to have. The lack of it left her vulnerable to whatever the fates brought her way.
Like this tall, dark-haired stranger who sat his horse like a man who wanted something and meant to get it.
Common sense warned her to be wary.
“What are you do doing out here, mister?” she asked as she moved to block his ascent. Perhaps her self-assured stance might convince him to move on. “You’re on private land, you know. The Rocking P Ranch.”
Still holding his hat in his hand, he grinned, revealing neat, even white teeth. “Actually, no, I didn’t know. To tell the truth, I seem to have gotten myself a mite lost.” When he looked around, his confusion became clear. “I stopped a bit earlier to rest for a minute. Must have gotten turned around somehow.”
His admission put Kat at ease. He meant no harm. Just a poor, wayfaring stranger like the weary soul the congregation sang about at church. And not very smart, at that.
“You’re not bright enough to see which way the sun shines?” With a harsh laugh, Kat lifted her hand, jerking her thumb toward the fading light. “Just so you know, that’s the west, over there.”
“So it is.” He hardly moved a muscle. Obviously, he didn’t rile too easily. “Problem is I’m not sure that’s the direction I’m wanting to go.”
“Where is it you’re headed?” Kat folded her arms over her chest. Not that she had anything much to hide. Still, she didn’t want any stranger gawking at her. Especially not this handsome, bearded stranger with his cool, gray eyes and gentle voice.
“I’m looking for my cousin’s place. Fellow by the name of Cody. Cody Bradford. You happen to know of him?”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Well, hell’s bells, of course I know of him. Everybody around these parts knows that crazy coot.” At once her hand flew to her mouth. As usual, she’d forgotten her manners. Crazy coot or not, the reclusive sculptor who lived across the creek was this man’s kin. She managed an awkward smile but doubted it hid her embarrassment. “I mean, well, he is a bit eccentric, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” The stranger nodded. He kept staring at her.
The man made her nervous. Growing more flustered by the moment, Kat opened her mouth and a torrent of words rushed out. “He’s a real talented fellow,” she offered, still hoping to appease any ill feelings. “I’ve seen some of those birds he carves. It was a few months back,” she added. “In Sunset. That’s the closest town.”
“You don’t say?”
“Yeah, your cousin has this big show there once every year, puts all his woodworking on display. Mighty impressive,” she added, remembering the life-like hand-painted carvings of ducks, geese, and lark buntings. Impressive, indeed. Expensive too. Bradford apparently lived all year from what he earned at his annual exhibition. Once each show ended, he disappeared into the hills again, only coming into town again on the rare occasions when he needed something he couldn’t grow, keep in stock, or otherwise manufacture on his own.
“Well, miss, do you think you could tell me where that cabin of his is located?” He shifted his weight in the saddle, and his face screwed up into a grimace. “I’ve been riding for an awful long time. I’d be much obliged if we could skip the chit-chat, and maybe you could tell me how to get to Cody’s place. I’m looking forward to getting down from this horse and resting up a bit.”
Her face burned. She stared down at her dusty boots. “Sorry, didn’t mean to inconvenience you.” She kicked at the loose pebbles along the edge of the path. “You planning on staying around here?” she asked, looking up again. The question shot out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“Thinking about it. Why?” His gaze narrowed.
“No reason. Your cousin’s cabin is over yonder,” she said, pointing to the north. “Probably no more than another half-mile. You got to wade the creek to get to the place. That’s probably how you missed it before. Unless, of course, you ride around and come up from the back. There’s a decent road there. Take your pick.”
“I suppose I can handle the creek.” He put his hat on again, then reached up and tipped the brim. “Much obliged to you, miss.”
As he turned to ride away, Kat looked him over again, noting his strong, well-muscled arms, the broad back, and powerful legs.
Just the sort of man you need.
Well, not that she needed a man, but the sort of man who could help her run the Rocking P if Pa would give her a chance. Crazy idea, really, but she couldn’t get it out of her head.
“Hey, mister, you looking for work?”
He drew back on the reins, looked over his shoulder and raked her with a slow, steady gaze.
“Might be. What you got to offer?”
“Ranching. Might be looking for a foreman.”
He grinned. “Well, when you figure out whether or not you’re looking, let me know.”
Without another word, he wheeled the bay around and headed toward the distant mountains.
* * * *
The sun had gone down long before Joshua reached the cabin. Tired, soaking wet from his foray through the spring-swollen creek, and barely able to stand on his weak leg, he wanted nothing more than a good night’s sleep in a real bed.
The golden glow of lamplight gleamed through the bare, uncurtained windows. Cody lived a simple life and that suited Joshua just fine. He’d grown accustomed to having little, and he wouldn’t have felt comfortable in a fine house with lavish furnishings. He’d chosen to come to Colorado to stay with Cody for exactly that reason.
Possessions weren’t important. What truly mattered in life was family.
Sad truth of it was, he didn’t have all that much family left. Some had passed on; others just didn’t want anything to do with him now, and so be it.
When Cody had offered him a place to stay, Joshua gladly accepted.
As he led his horse toward the small corral, he caught a glimpse of his cousin standing at the window. Joshua tipped his hat and Cody waved to him. A simple gesture, but a welcome one. He’d come home, at last.
Eager now, he quickly tended to his horse, then grabbed his walking stick and limped toward the cabin.
When he opened the door, the stench coming from inside the place nearly knocked him off his feet. At once, his mood soured. The walking stick fell from his grasp as he gazed in disbelief at the scene before him.
“Holy hell, man! How do you live like this?” Covering his mouth and nose, Joshua stepped carefully around the empty whiskey bottles that lay scattered over the mud-encrusted floor. Filthy clothes filled every corner, and plates of moldy, half-eaten food sat on a rough-hewn table in the center of the room. A thick layer of wood chips and sawdust covered everything.
Cody Bradford pulled his lanky frame up from a rickety stool. His dark, heavy-lidded eyes narrowed.
“Glad to see you, too, cousin.”
Joshua had never been one to waste words. Greetings could come later. “You need to clean this place up.”
“Haven’t got time.”
“You’ve got nothing but time.” He kicked at a pile of rubbish. “This is disgusting.”
“Doesn’t bother me.” Cody’s thin shoulders rolled in a half-hearted shrug.
Obviously his cousin hadn’t changed over the years. With the exception of his woodcarving, Cody Bradford had never made more than a half-hearted attempt at anything.
“Well, it should bother you. It damned sure ought to bother you.”
“Get away from there!” Cody picked up a block of wood and hurled it across the room. A rat scurried through the clutter, knocking knives and cutting tools from a metal stand.
Joshua jumped back, appalled at the thought of spending even one night in the wretched, vermin-infested cabin. “Think I’ll sleep out in your shed tonight, if that’s all right with you.” He grabbed his walking stick and turned toward the door. “It’s probably in better shape.”
“Not really. Haven’t had time to do much cleaning out there, either.”
Tomorrow he’d head into town, pick up a good supply of lye soap, alum, and vinegar. He’d get some potash too to drive away the rats. But for tonight, Joshua would have to make the best of it. He had a thick, woolen blanket in his gear, and his saddle would serve as a comfortable pillow for his head. As much as he’d looked forward to sleeping in a bed, right now, the cool, hard earth held a much greater appeal.
Leaning on his walking stick, he looked around once more, slowly surveying the extent of the disaster. His cousin would do nothing to improve the unhealthy, unsanitary living conditions, and Joshua didn’t figure he could handle the task on his own. How in the hell would they ever make the place livable?
“You know, Cody, what you need is a wife, somebody to pick up those dirty dishes, carry the rubbish out, sweep that confounded sawdust up from the floors.”
“A wife?” His cousin hooked his thumbs in his suspenders, leaned back, and let out a hoot. “Not likely to find one around here. This is Colorado, remember? There aren’t too many available women in the territory, you know. Besides, what woman in her right mind would marry me?” A crazy, chortling sound came from his throat.
Good old Cody. Hadn’t changed a lick. Still the same deranged—but talented—lunatic he’d always been.
Joshua scratched at his bearded jaw. “I’m sure there must be some sweet young thing somewhere in Colorado who needs a husband.” Even before the words were out, the image of a long-legged, trouser-clad redhead flickered through Joshua’s weary brain. A pretty face, indeed, but overall, not the sort of woman men sought after. Too tall, too flat, all awkward arms and legs with none of the luscious curves that enticed a man. She most likely didn’t have too many romantic prospects. He grinned. A gal like that would be perfect for a fine man like Cody. “Twenty dollars says I can find you a wife.” He pulled a gold piece from his pocket, tossed it in the air, and caught it again. “Deal?”
* * * *
The loud crack of an axe blade against wood, followed quickly by another, brought Joshua out of a restless sleep. Stiff and sore from both his long journey west and yet another night spent sleeping under the stars, he groaned and slowly rolled over.
What the hell was Cody up to now? And why so early?
“Damn it, can’t a man have a little peace?” he hollered toward the sound of the chopping. His cousin didn’t hear. A good thing, really, since Joshua quickly reconsidered the situation and decided getting an early start on the day might be beneficial. Between picking up supplies in Sunset and scrubbing the grease, grime, and wood chips from Cody’s cabin, he’d need every minute of the day. The sooner he got started, the sooner he’d have the place habitable.
He set off for the water trough at the far end of the little corral, planning to soak his head, clear the cobwebs from his musty brain, and wash up enough to make himself presentable. Before he reached the enclosure, a rider crested the hill, approaching at a steady, determined pace.
Joshua glanced first toward his cousin. Cody stood in a grove of bristlecone pine, his hands wrapped around the handle of a menacing woodaxe. Whack! Whack! Huge logs splintered into blocks beneath the blade as it came down again and again. Lost in a world of zealous devotion to his craft, the man wouldn’t have noticed a herd of buffalo stampeding toward him.
Stepping out in front of the rider, Joshua waved but didn’t call out a welcome. Better to find out first who was calling and why. He had a hunch it might have something to do with him and his arrival in the territory.
“Morning,” said the man on horseback. The tin star on his vest confirmed Joshua’s suspicions.
Never one to strike up casual conversations or form easy friendships, Joshua offered only a curt nod in return. He’d let the man speak his piece first and find out just what had brought the law calling so soon.
“Heard reports yesterday of a stranger riding through these parts, headed out here toward the Bradford place.” His sharp-eyed gaze swept across the cabin and the surrounding area, coming to rest on Cody and his axe.
“We’re cousins. I’ve come to spend a little time with him.”
The lawman, still seated in the saddle, stared down at Josh, scrutinizing him. Finally he gave what might best be called a snort of approval.
“Folks around here are the vigilant sort. Everyone keeps an eye out for trouble. I’d be right obliged if you’d not cause any. And just so you know, we all tend to keep a fairly close watch over your cousin, make sure nothing bad happens to him, you know.”
Joshua let out a slow breath and nodded again. “Yeah, I know.” His cousin had always been a bit odd. Over the years he’d apparently gotten even more peculiar. “And, no. No trouble.” He stepped forward and held out a hand. “Name is Barron. Joshua Barron.”
“Wes Randall.” Instead of a handshake, he tipped the brim of his hat then tapped the star on his chest. “Got this badge from the Sunset Protective Committee. They appointed me to be in charge.”
“Sunset Protective Committee?” Joshua rolled the name around in his head. It didn’t take long to get the man’s drift.
Vigilantes. Men who took it upon themselves to impose law and order where little, if any existed. Good men, honest, hard-working ranchers and farmers out to protect their own. Only problem was sometimes they got a little carried away. Sometimes, too, if they took a dislike to a man, they could make his life miserable, make him wish he’d never been born…or, at the very least, that he’d never set foot in the territory.
He wondered how much Wes Randall had heard about him and how much the man believed. Had he heard the truth? Or only the lies that had destroyed Joshua’s life?
Whack! Whack! From beneath the bristlecone pines, the chopping continued, each heavy stroke of the axe echoing through the morning air. Down came the blade again, followed by a shriek of pain.
“Oh, my God!”
Both men reacted at once. Still on horseback, Wes Randall reached Cody first while Joshua limped toward the grove, horrified by the blood pouring from his cousin’s leg. Damned fool must have sliced an artery.
“Get him a doctor,” he called out. Not that it would do any good. Cody would be dead before Joshua could even reach him.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Randall knelt down beside the unconscious man. He quickly checked Cody’s vitals. “He missed the artery. Must have cut into a vein.”
“It’s bad enough.” Already Joshua had ripped off his shirt for a tourniquet. Unless he got pressure on the wound immediately, Cody would bleed out within minutes. “He needs a doctor, damn it.”
Together they tied the tourniquet around the ugly gash. Joshua gripped it with every ounce of strength he possessed.
“I’m on my way for help right now.” Randall clambered to his feet, swung up into the saddle, and galloped away.
“Hang on, damn you!” Unable to look at his cousin’s ghastly white pallor, Joshua closed his eyes. He’d never been much of a praying man, but he was on his knees now. Would a few words of supplication be enough to save a life?
Although it seemed like hours, less than twenty minutes passed before a wagon came jostling over the rutted pathway, its huge wooden wheels wet from crossing the creek. Keeping a tight hold on the tourniquet with one hand, Joshua lifted the other to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. Cody’s chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and the bleeding had diminished as his blood pressure dropped. Thank God help had arrived.
He squinted toward the wagon, certain his eyes must be playing tricks.
“Well, I’ll be go to hell.”
A petite woman with a somber, no-nonsense expression—he guessed her age to be mid-forties—climbed from the buckboard. She lifted out a small, black leather bag. “Heard you had a medical emergency here.” Without waiting for a response, she headed for Cody’s outstretched form. “I’ll take over now,” she informed Joshua.
“You’re a doctor?” Reluctant to let go of the twisted shirt, he gripped it tighter.
“You need to let go of that now.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Exasperation flashed across her clear blue eyes. He’d seen eyes like that before, Joshua thought, but he couldn’t quite remember where.
“Why, yes, I’m a doctor.” She reached for the tourniquet. “At least, I’m the closest thing to a doctor that Sunset has.”
“But, he’s a man, ma’am.”
“Yes, so I see.”
“And I don’t think it would be proper—”
“I’m a married woman as well as a mother. It’s not like I’ve never seen a man’s private parts before.”
A burning heat crept up his neck at this woman’s unexpected candor. But it didn’t make it right. His cousin had no voice, couldn’t speak up for himself. Joshua had to do it for him.
“I don’t think Cody would be too comfortable with the idea of some strange woman looking him over, ma’am.”
She threw back her shoulders, stuck out her chest, and lifted her chin. Joshua could practically hear her teeth grinding.
“Let me explain to you, sir, what your options are, and as you have a man ailing, I would suggest you not delay too long in making a decision. Your first option is to move out of my way and let me tend to the fellow before his condition deteriorates any further.”
“And the second option?”
She bristled. “You could go into town and summon Dr. Kellerman—”
“So, there is a physician in Sunset. I thought you said there wasn’t a doctor.”
