Sam Kline
Sam poured the remainder of the hot water on the coals and stepped back as steam and smoke rose into the morning sky. He cast a cautious glance at Cat.
She sat at the end of the wagon, legs tucked beneath her skirt, a blanket wrapped around her and a tin cup of hot water between her hands.
Her silence said more to him than her complaints would have. “Cat, I’m sorry I forgot you don’t like coffee.”
Cat’s eyes flashed at him, then back to her cup. “It’s not just about the coffee.” She muttered into the cup, “How would you know what I like, anyway?”
Sam rested his hands on his hips and stared at his sister. “You could have slept by the fire if you were cold.”
“On the dirt?” Her outraged glare scoured him with disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?”
Sam shrugged and turned to the horses to hide his smile. “You would have been warm, at least.” He removed the horses’ hobbles and led them to the front of the wagon. “We should get to the Harris Ranch by noon,” he said as he passed the end of the wagon.
“Marvelous.”
Sam’s grin widened at his sister’s tone. He turned his attention to harnessing the team and hitching them to the wagon. When he finished, he wiped his hands against his denim trousers and looked up.
Cat had taken her place on the seat. The blanket still wrapped around her back. Her hair brushed and plaited into a thick braid, which hung over one shoulder. She narrowed her eyes when their gazes met. “I would have liked more hot water.”
Sam pulled on his gloves and climbed onto the seat beside her. “I should have asked before I poured it out. I’m sorry.”
Cat lifted one shoulder. “Let’s just go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back to civilization.”
* * *
Just before noon, they passed a recently abandoned ranch. Tumbleweeds blew across the yard and stacked against the bunkhouse. Sam’s directions from Judge Anders mentioned The Shilo Ranch, but Sam understood The Shilo to be a working ranch. “A couple more hours and we’ll be there.”
“Will there be people?” Cat had shed her blanket hours ago, and now hid her fair skin beneath a parasol. She turned her gaze from the empty ranch and raised an eyebrow at her brother. “I hope they have beds.”
Sam glanced at his sister. “Depending on what this Harris fellow has to say, we may not be asked to spend the night.”
“You should have let me stay in Denver.”
“I should have left you in N’Orleans.”
He caught his sister’s glare and gave one back.
Cat turned away, and they rode in silence.
After a while, Sam spotted a thin trail of smoke ahead. Soon, the house and outbuildings came into view. He turned the team off the main road and onto a drive that wound up a shallow rise to the yard. Several horses circled inside a large corral, and men worked in front of the large barn in the distance. “See Cat, there are people here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, be nice, Sam. I’d like to sleep in a bed tonight.”
Sam pulled the team to a stop in front of the house just as the front door opened.
A tall, dark-haired cowboy stepped onto the porch, a rifle held in the crook of his arm. He nodded to Sam and walked to the end of the porch near the wagon. “Hello, folks. Can I help you?”
Sam stared at the man. A vague sense of recognition assailed him, but he couldn’t put a name to the face. There was something about the way he walked, and the way he wore his gun belt.
Maybe not just a cowboy then, but so damned familiar.
“Good afternoon.” He set the wheel brake and tied the reins to the post beside the seat. “We’re looking for the Harris Ranch. Specifically, for a Mr. Jason Harris. Might that be you, sir?”
When Sam spoke, the man on the porch stepped back and shook his head. “Well, I’ll be damned.” A smile transformed his face. “Sam Kline. I haven't seen you since Albuquerque. That had to be, what—eight years ago?” He leaned the rifle against the house and stepped down beside the wagon. “How the hell have you been?”
Sam froze when the cowboy said his name then recognition sparked, and a name fell into place. “Merril?” Sam dropped from buckboard.
The men embraced and pounded each other on the back.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why do you want to see Jason?”
They spoke at the same time and laughed.
Sam stepped back and measured Merril with his gaze. “You’ve gained some height, kid. What are you doing at the Harris Ranch? Do you work here?”
“It's my wife's ranch.” Merril chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I thought I’d seen the last of you when you rode out of Albuquerque.” He gestured to the woman who watched from the doorway, and then waved for her to come outside.
The lovely blonde-haired woman crossed the porch with a cautious smile and nodded to Sam and Cat. She stepped from the porch and took Merril’s hand.
“Sam, this is my wife, Nichole Shilo—formerly, Harris. The man you are asking for is her cousin. Nicki, this is Sam Kline, an old friend of mine from Albuquerque.”
* * *