Читать книгу A Cowboy Worth Claiming - Charlene Sands - Страница 9

Chapter Two

After she’d dried off and changed into a brown dress, Lizzie pushed through her bedroom door, keeping her misery close to heart. It wouldn’t do to have Grandpa knowing how desperate she was. She found him and Chance Worth sitting in the front room, head down, whispering, in obvious cahoots about something. The second they spotted her they clamped their mouths shut. What in heaven’s name were they up to? And why did her Grandpa see fit to summon him here in the first place?

“Lizzie, dear girl, come sit with us for a spell.”

“I will for just a little while.” She smiled at her grandpa and plopped down on the sofa as far away from the stranger as possible. She wasn’t afraid of him, no sir, but she’d been close enough to feel his warm breath on her throat, to feel his arms tug her close while riding his mare. Why, she’d practically seen him naked at the lake and didn’t like for one minute the warm sensations he’d stirred in her.

“That’s my girl.” Her grandpa leaned back in his seat and drew a deep breath. His cough was getting worse every day and it scared her to see him look so pale. She cooked hearty meals to keep meat on his bones, but even still, his shirts hung loose from his shoulders. Didn’t matter how much bread she added to the stew, or how much jam she spread across his biscuits, she couldn’t seem to build his strength and fatten him up. “You look nice and dry, Lizzie. Feeling better now?”

She couldn’t feel better. She’d lost their only means of income and just thinking about those dolls soaked at the bottom of the lake made her stomach clench. She looked down at her brown skirt and nodded. “Yes, a little bit.”

“It’s a lucky thing Chance coming along when he did, bringing you home. Course it’s been a while but I recall how cold that lake is. Would have been a mighty uncomfortable walk with you dripping wet. Did you thank him, Lizzie?”

She darted Chance a glance and found him watching her, his gaze flowing over the hair she didn’t bother to untangle, curling every which way now and tied back with a thin strip of ribbon. When their eyes met she found his filled with amusement. “I, uh—”

“She thanked me, Edward.”

She shot him a quick look and he arched his right brow. He’d done a good thing, covering for her, but somehow she still felt pinpricked. If he hadn’t come along, she might’ve had a chance at rescuing her dolls. Now, all was lost and she didn’t know what else to do but to try to replace them with new ones made from the scraps of material she had left in her sewing basket.

Her grandpa coughed again, and the pain she noted on his face made her turn away. Every day she witnessed how much strength his coughing sapped from his body. The doctor from Red Ridge had come out to check on him and gave him an elixir, which she prayed would help, but nothing seemed to do a lick of good.

“Edward, I’ll get you some water,” Chance said, rising from his seat.

“I’ll get it.” She bounded up quickly and rushed to the kitchen area.

“Get…some…for our guest.” Her grandfather struggled to get the words out between coughs.

She poured two glasses of water from a pitcher but by the time she returned, thankfully, his coughing spell was over. She handed the water to her grandfather. “Please, Grandpa, you need to drink more. The doctor says it’ll help.”

“All right, Lizzie.” She stood over him until he took a long sip. Then she turned to Chance and offered up the other glass.

“Don’t mind if I do.” His hand came out to accept the drink and when their fingers brushed, she was startled by the jolt and nearly jumped out of her skin.

Something powerful happened whenever he touched her. The stirrings were unexpected and…and downright confusing. Thankfully, Chance didn’t seem to notice her distress. She figured it’d be a good idea to keep her distance. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be on the ranch too long. “I’d best start supper.”

“It’s early yet,” her grandfather said. “Sit down, girl. Take a rest.”

Lizzie did as she was told. Everyone seemed content to just sit there, comfortably, without uttering a word. She didn’t begrudge her grandfather the rest or her company, but when he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, Lizzie couldn’t help but steal another look at Chance. His throat worked as he finished off the water in his glass. Why did she find watching him swallow so darn fascinating?

“Chance is here to help.” Her grandfather spoke quietly, keeping his head back against the chair. “In case you were wondering, Lizzie. And I owed him something.”

She noticed the square walnut box sitting next to Chance on the sofa. She’d grown up seeing that box—it was as if it belonged here on the ranch. For as long as she could remember, that box had sat in the bottom drawer of her mama’s china cabinet.

When she was a young fanciful girl, she’d sneak into that drawer when no one was looking and ever so carefully open the box to stare at the blood-red ruby. Her imagination would run wild, thinking it a rare stolen treasure, a gem that was more beautiful than any she could ever fathom. Had it belonged to a princess from a faraway land, a pirate queen or a stately woman of wealth?

Lizzie never touched the ruby for fear her dirt-smudged fingers would mar the perfection of the stunning pear-shaped stone. Eventually, she came to learn the story about the ruby and how it had fallen into her grandfather’s possession.

The ruby she’d once secretly coveted belonged to Chance Worth. And her grandfather had summoned him here to return it. “I know now that you sent for him,” she said, “to return the ruby.”

Grandpa leaned forward and spoke with resolution. “And to help us, Lizzie,” he reminded her.

Lord knew, they needed help, but so far all the stranger had managed to do was to prevent her from rescuing her dolls and make things worse. She didn’t have a good feeling about this. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How can he help?”

Her grandfather’s face brightened and it was a joy to see, so rarely did he smile anymore. “Now, Lizzie. I want you to think before reacting, okay?”

She nodded, wary. Usually when Grandpa said that, she didn’t like what came next.

“Chance has agreed to drive our herd to the railhead in Prescott with you.”

Alarmed, she shook her head. “But, Grandpa, you and I will drive the herd, once you’re feeling better.”

A flicker of sadness stole over his face and her heart dropped. There was something so resolute in that look, so final. “I’m not getting better, Lizzie. I’m weak and getting weaker every day.” The bleak reality struck her as he reached for her with cold, fragile hands. “I wish it weren’t so for your sake, dear girl. I wish I could go with you on the drive, the way we used to.”

“Grandpa, we could do it again. We could. The winter was harsh this year and I know that’s what made you sick, but it’s spring now. You’ll gain your strength back.”

Her grandfather peered at Chance and the two locked glances. “Chance knows cattle drives. He’ll make the trip without any difficulty and the two of you will be back shortly.”

Her body tensed. The emotions she’d kept at bay all these months were too much for her. Tears welled in her eyes. She rose and shook her head, lowering her voice, unable to hide the pain. “I don’t want to go without you.”

Her grandfather squeezed his eyes shut briefly then met her gaze. “We have no choice, Lizzie.”

She shot a glare at Chance and then marched out of the room so the stranger wouldn’t see the tears spill from her eyes.

* * *

Lizzie boiled up strips of beef in a big pot, added beans and potatoes to the mix for son-of-a-gun stew. It was a recipe she’d learned from the cookie, years ago, when she’d gone on cattle drives with her father and the crew. She’d been without a care in the world then—the ranch was thriving and those drives were an adventure for a young girl. But now, she had enough worries to fill the cookie’s chuck wagon and then some.

She’d had a good cry out by the barn minutes ago, trying to justify leaving grandpa all alone. She didn’t want to go on that drive. Not without him. And she surely didn’t want to drive cattle with Chance Worth. Why, he’d most likely mock her every step of the way and she’d hate every minute of it.

She stirred the stew and sniffled.

“Need some help?”

She whirled around to find Chance leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her. “How long have you been there?”

He moved into the room, ignoring her question. “Your grandpa’s taking a nap.”

He did that, napped several times during the day. She’d find him looking fatigued and the next thing she knew, he’d be on the sofa, head at an awkward angle against the back cushion, sleeping. “He needs rest.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, mercy. I think you and I agree on something.” She rubbed her nose and sniffled again. She didn’t want Chance in the kitchen, hovering. He was too big. And he made her nerves stand on end. “Why don’t you get settled at the bunkhouse? There’s a few beds in there that aren’t—”

“I want to talk to you about the drive.”

She blinked. Then turned her attention to stirring the stew. “What about it?”

“We’ll go day after tomorrow.”

She nodded, lowering her voice. “I suppose if we have to,” she said, though she couldn’t bear the thought of Grandpa being alone for more than a week.

“And you’re gonna listen to me every step of the way. No tantrums, no arguments. We do things my way, Lizzie.” His eyes were hard, his voice gruff. “We need to make good time and I don’t want a female slowing us down.”

She dropped the wooden spoon in the stew and braced her hands on her hips. “My name’s not Lizzie, not to you. It’s Elizabeth. I don’t have tantrums and I won’t slow anybody down. I know more about drives than any other woman in the territory.”

He cocked half a smile, satisfied. “Good. Then you and me shouldn’t have a problem, so long as you realize I’m the trail boss.”

“It’s our herd and our lives at stake. Not yours. If I disagree with you, I’m gonna tell you.”

“You took a broken-down boat out in the lake and nearly got yourself killed. Hardly testimony to your clear thinking and good judgment. And don’t deny it. God knows you’re denying enough about your life.”

She stiffened at his curious remark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He walked toward her, the rowels of his spurs jangling as his boots scraped against the wood floor. He stopped inches from her, his gaze dark and direct. “You want to help your grandfather? Then you go on this drive without any fuss. Don’t make him feel bad. Give him some peace of mind.”

Peace of mind? What was he talking about? She’d done everything she could to help her grandfather. She’d worked all day and into the night to keep the ranch going, earning extra cash whenever she could. Could she help it that she’d rather go on the trail drive with her kin, than with a stranger whose uncouth ways were bound to rile her?

But what if he wasn’t speaking about that? What if he had something else in mind? Her mind reeling, she spoke softly now, suddenly unsure. “What do you mean ‘peace of mind’?”

Chance reached for her face, taking her chin in his large hand and forcing her eyes up to his. A moment ticked by as he studied her, unblinking, his nearness, the intensity of his gaze stirring her senses. They stood that way, facing each other, his grip tight yet gentle and when she thought he’d say what was on his mind, he seemed to think better of it. He released her and backed up. “I think you know, Lizzie.”

She put her head down, refusing to look in his eyes and whispered, “I don’t. I swear I don’t know what you mean at all.”

He sighed and walked away from her. After a time, his footsteps faded and the door squeaked closed behind him. Marching to the window, she pulled aside the curtains and watched him stride into the barn, readying to settle on the ranch and barge into her life.

She wished Grandpa had never sent for him.

It was one of a long list of wishes that Lizzie hadn’t seen come true this year.

* * *

Chance strode into the barn to check on Joyful and retrieve his saddlebags. The sorry sorrel he’d noticed earlier snorted quietly as he walked by. The slight effort seemed laborious for the animal that looked weary and old enough to have seen war days. Wasn’t a wonder why Lizzie chose to walk into town today—the mare wouldn’t have hastened her trip at all.

It was hard to believe that Edward had kept the ranch running this long. Chance was damn glad he showed up when he did, though he wasn’t looking forward to having Lizzie along on the cattle drive. Without a crew and a string of horses to switch out, she’d have to put in long hours and eat her share of dust on the trail. Good thing they only had a hundred miles to travel to the railhead.

Chance wouldn’t let Edward down.

Leastways not with the short trail drive.

Finding Lizzie a husband was another matter.

He approached his mare, muttering, “The old man’s worried over his granddaughter and I’ve got to find her a man.”

Joyful turned to the sound of his voice, her brown eyes on him. Chance stroked her mane, running his hands along the length of the coarse hairs and then gave her a pat as thoughts of Edward’s quickly laid-out plan came to mind. Chance wasn’t too sure it would work. His old friend explained the situation—so far Lizzie had pretty much shooed away any of the would-be suitors that Edward had brought out to the ranch.

Can’t say as he blamed the men from turning tail and running. As much as he’d seen of her, Lizzie lacked female wiles and didn’t have enough charm to entice a stray pup to Sunday supper, much less a would-be husband.

Chance grabbed his saddlebags and bedroll and entered the bunkhouse. Cobwebs crisscrossed the ceiling above his head and a layer of red dust kicked up as he moved into the space, yet the place wouldn’t be the worst he’d lived in. He scanned the six bunks across the far wall deciding one was no better than the other, worn blankets and all, but they were sturdy enough for a man his size. He tossed his gear on the floor, took off his gun belt and sat down on the nearest bunk testing the thin mattress. It was a far cry better than hard ground. He laid his head back, setting his hat low to cover his eyes, and adjusted his body on the bunk, hanging his boots off the edge.

He’d barely had a few minutes of respite before he sensed a presence hovering over him. On instinct, he reached for his six-shooter and cocked it, hinging his body up so fast his hat went flying from his head.

“Oh!” Startled, Lizzie backed up, her eyes trained on the gun.

He glared at her. “What are you doing sneaking up on me?”

Her usual bravado gone, she lowered her voice. “I…wasn’t.”

He set the gun down on the bed. “You weren’t? Funny, but I didn’t hear you knock.”

“The door was open. I came looking for you. Supper’s ready.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “Fine. I’ll be there in a minute.”

When he thought she’d go, she continued to stand there, carefully studying him. “You got something else to say?”

“What are you afraid of, anyway?” she asked, her brows furrowing together. “You grabbed your gun so fast, I thought I was going to meet my maker years before my time.”

“Scared you, did I?”

She paused, her expression tightening. She didn’t like to give in, that much he’d already found out about the Mitchell girl. She raised her chin and nodded. “Maybe.”

“It’s good if I did and a valuable lesson to learn, Lizzie. You’ve not seen the world the way I have. You got to be on your guard every second of the day. Being alert has kept me alive and you’d best learn early that you can’t trust everyone.”

“Does that include you?”

He caught her stare and thought for a moment before giving her an answer. “Your grandfather trusts me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

Now she was being just plain argumentative. Her chin lifted another inch and he noticed the feminine lines of her jaw, the slender length of her throat. “You don’t have to trust me, Lizzie. In fact, it’d be better if you didn’t.”

She blinked as his words sank in. Then with a sharper tone, she continued, “You didn’t answer my first question. Why are you sleeping with your gun?”

“Stupid question.”

“Stupid or not, I’d like an answer. Is someone after you?”

Nobody double-crossed Alistair Dunston and got away with it. Chance had left the man riled about him leaving the Circle D Ranch but it wasn’t as if he’d committed a crime or anything. Yet, he was in rare company defying the powerful man’s wishes, so Chance figured to keep his guard up. It never hurt a man to be smart. “Nope. A lot of men sleep with their guns. Keep that in mind and don’t go stealing into rooms unless you’re tired of breathing.”

“And you might try not shooting my head off when I announce supper,” she snapped.

He glanced at her pinched-tight lips and thought Lizzie needed lessons in manners. “You have a sass mouth.”

“You’ve told me that already. I doubt that’s going to change.”

“It’s gotta change, Lizzie. Just remember what I said about the trail drive and we’ll get along just fine.” He rose from the bunk and, towering above her, stared into her eyes. “You’re no match for me.”

Her expression faltered for a second, then filled with dawning realization. His attempt to instill fear in her hadn’t worked as planned. Lizzie set her chin stubbornly and met his gaze head-on. “I just might surprise you, Chance Worth.”

With that, she lifted her ugly skirt, whirled around and hastily exited the bunkhouse.

A wayward thought popped into his head and he hoped to high heaven that the surprise Lizzie had in mind for him wouldn’t be arsenic in his beef stew tonight.