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Rescuing the Rancher (Cowboys and Angels Book 3) by George H. McVey, Cowboys, Angels (7)

Arranging things with Fuzzy and the men had taken longer than Royce had expected. He had already decided to leave two men close to the house before he had heard Marta’s story about what had happened with the group of strangers. However, a few things she had said filled Royce with concern. The fact that the man in the buggy talked about wanting to buy the ranch lined up with what Waylon Morgan had told him about what some of the other ranchers had faced. If this was that group, the rustling would start soon and maybe even harassment. The thing out of character with the other ranches was the way the man his wife said was named Jasper had acted toward his wife. As much as he didn’t want to, if he didn’t hear from Nathan soon, he may have no choice but to hire some gun hands to stand watch over his family and the ranch. He’d worked too hard to get where he was to see it taken away by rustlers and swindlers.

All that ran through Royce’s head as he stood at the foot of his bed looking at Marta’s sleeping form. His mind went to what the angel had said to him about needing to choose. Would he keep clinging to Lucy and the love he’d had that was now past, or would he honor the vows he’d taken the day before: to love, honor, and cherish this woman, forsaking all others? 

That’s when it hit him, the thing that had been bothering him since just before he made that vow to Marta. To truly honor that vow, not only did he need to allow himself to love Marta, he had to let go of all he was holding on to with Lucy. His new vows contained the same words his vows to Lucy had contained, including the phrase ‘forsaking all others.’ To truly fulfill his vows to Marta, he would have to not only try to learn to love her, to allow his heart to be open to love again, but he would have to let go of his devotion to Lucy. He would have to forsake her and choose Marta. Just like the angel had told him.

He quickly dressed for bed and slid beneath the covers, trying not to disturb Marta. He turned to look at her sleeping form. Her back was to him and he was once again struck by how pretty she truly was. Her hair and eyes were lighter shades of brown than Lucy’s had been. She was taller and curvier, something that he wasn’t really upset by because she fit against him perfectly, as she’d proven this morning during their kiss. Her personality and care for his children also made her desirable. If he’d met her instead of Lucy all those years ago, she might have been the one he’d have chosen. In reality, the only reason he had for not allowing himself to get close to her was his commitment to stay faithful to Lucy. He sighed and tried to quiet his mind. He was just going around and around in a circle over this whole issue and nothing was changing. As he lay there watching his new wife sleep, his own slumber overtook him. For the first time since Lucy died, his dreams weren’t filled with visions of her and the future they were supposed to have. No, tonight his dreams were filled with a tall, sandy-brown haired woman with eyes like Tennessee sipping whiskey flecked with gold, and lips as warm as good whiskey made a man feel. Tonight, his dreams were filled with Marta. In his sleep, he reached out and pulled his wife close, wrapping his arms around her.

Marta woke to find herself pulled tight against Royce again. His arm was around her waist holding her against his firm body. His leg twined with hers in a way that would have been appalling if they weren’t married. It still felt like a slap in the face to Marta; the only time he seemed to not care about getting close to her was when he was asleep. She knew that was just his body’s reaction to having a woman in his bed. He probably had held Lucy like this every night; in his sleep, his body remembered and just reacted. He’d certainly never shown her any indication that he willingly wanted to be that close to her.

Marta carefully extracted herself, not wanting to wake him. She didn’t know how long he’d been up last night making plans to keep the cattle and ranch safe, but she would take care of what morning chores she could. While she’d been an orphan and city girl all her life, she did at least know how to gather eggs and milk a cow. Those had at one time been part of her chores at the orphanage. She’d slipped into her work dress and apron and carried her boots out of the room with her. She sat at the table and quickly put her boots on and laced them up. She hurried into the kitchen and stoked the fire so the stove would be warm for breakfast. She filled the pot and added the coffee grounds; the coffee would be hot and strong when breakfast was ready. She grabbed the milk bucket and hurried across to the barn. She milked the cow and gathered the eggs. She’d just started mixing up a batch of biscuits when Royce walked into the kitchen. “Marta, we need to talk about a couple of things.”

Her heart raced. Had he decided he didn’t want to be married to her? Was he going to send her away? Had he decided, like everyone else, he didn’t need the orphan no one wanted? “Can we talk while I finish fixing your breakfast? Or should I just go pack my things now?”

Royce’s face looked confused. “Why would you go and pack? Don’t you want to be here with us?”

Marta spun to look him in the eye. “You weren’t going to tell me that I needed to leave?”

Royce shook his head, walked around to where she was, and took her hands in his. “Why would I send you away? We’ve been married three days today; you’ve only been on the ranch one full day and part of the day before, and you’ve already done a great deal to clean up the mess it took me two months to make. I’d be a fool to ask you to leave. No, I wanted to tell you what was going on and what I expect from you until this mess is cleared up.”

He let her go and sighed. “First, you need to know that Sheriff Ketchum let Archie go yesterday.”

Marta gasped and stepped back. “What? Why?"

“He claimed there wasn’t enough evidence to hold him. That all the evidence they had pointed to Dougal. So if you need to go to town for any reason, I want you to take one of the men with you. Or wait and let me go with you.”

“Surely he won’t try and grab women off the street again. There would be no doubt who was involved this time.”

Royce shook his head. “I don’t know what Archie would or wouldn’t try, but I do know that Creede isn’t a safe town for a woman to walk around alone in. It’s getting better, but I’d still like you to be escorted by someone I trust.”

Marta frowned and started to tell him she’d been taking care of herself for a long time. Then she thought about what he was saying and could see that he was just trying to protect her. "All right. I’ll make sure you or one of the men is with me when I need to go to town.”

Royce smiled at her. “Thank you. Now just so you know, the rustling is only a small part of the trouble ranchers are having right now. I learned last night that someone is trying to buy up ranches, and once they make an offer, all sorts of things start happening around their ranches.”

"What kind of things?”

"Hands have been beaten and told if they were smart they’d ride off. Fences have been cut and cattle stolen. Barns and houses have been burned. Typical persuasion tactics a certain type of person uses. So, Fuzzy and I have worked it out so that there will be someone here on the porch at all times. One of the wranglers will also always be in the barn. Their jobs are to watch over the buildings and to keep you and the children safe. I also want you to promise me that if you see any of those men that were here yesterday, you’ll let the man out front know and take the children and hide in the root cellar until one of our men comes and gets you.”

Marta put the biscuits in the oven while she thought about Jasper’s pale face and dark eyes and the way he promised he’d see her again soon, and nodded. "Of course, Royce, if that’s what you think is best.”

She went to the icebox, got out the bacon, and sliced several pieces for them. She placed them in the skillet to start cooking and turned back to Royce.

“What would be best is if we could catch these rustlers and convince the men trying to pressure ranchers to sell that we aren’t worth the effort it’s taking to run us out.”

Marta could see that Royce was worried, not just for her and the children but his neighbors and friends, too. She put a hand on top of his and squeezed. “Won’t the sheriff do something about all this?”

Royce shook his head. “No, he told us it wasn’t his job. I’ve sent a telegram to someone I know who might be able to help, but I don’t know if he’ll come, or even if he does if he’ll be able to help us.”

“We’ll just have to pray that he can, and that he will.”

Marta’s heart skipped a beat when Royce smiled at her. He pulled her into his arms and placed a quick chaste kiss on her lips. “Yes, we will. Thank you for not trying to fight me on this.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I wanted to at first, but I realized you are just trying to keep me safe. I’ve never had anyone care enough about me to do that before. I’ve always had to look out for myself.”

Royce kissed her again. She could tell he was struggling with showing her affection, but he was trying. “Well, now you do have someone who cares, and I’ll take care of you as best as I know how.”

Marta's whole body warmed at his words. She’d need to be very careful or she’d find herself falling in love with her husband. With that thought still ringing through her head, she extracted herself from his arms. She patted him on the cheek before turning her attention back to fixing breakfast. Yep, she’d have to be very, very careful.

For the second day in a row, Royce found himself in Creede. This time he came to check and see if there was a response to his telegram. There wasn’t yet, but Arthur Jameson told him that when the answer came, he and Beatrice would come to visit so that no one would suspect Royce was waiting for a telegram. Royce thanked the man who until recently was a man who kept to himself.

Next, he went to both the dry goods and the mercantile and asked the clerks at each to fill the order Marta had given him. He informed them both he’d pick them up later that morning as he had an appointment with a businessman who was staying at the hotel.

Royce walked toward the hotel slowly, looking at the changes in the town. Already frames were going back up for the business that had been burned. He knew he could make a lot of money if he sold the timber on his land right now. He didn’t know why he was resisting selling the timber rights to Mr. Anders unless it was because he just didn’t trust the man. For some reason, Mr. Anders never seemed satisfied. He already owned several mines, every saloon in Creede, several of the lots that the miners’ tents were on, and a few of the homes. Rumor was he owned the Miners’ Hotel as well, but no one knew if that was true. The manager refused to talk about the owner and only referred to him or her in passing as “the owner.” The town was changing. Even with Archie free again and Black Jack still sheriff, there was a feeling of newness and new beginnings. Only two months ago, people who lived here saw Creede as a place that wasn’t fit to raise a family. Now that was starting to change. A large part of that was because of Reverend Bing. His advertisements in eastern newspapers calling for families and business people to move to Bachelor and help make the town a place for families was slowly changing not just the face of Bachelor but of Creede, too. There were more families on the streets. Women and children were part of the background now, not hidden inside for fear of being accosted. Oh, Royce was sure there was still going to be problems and maybe even some growing pains, but Creede was changing.

He stopped in front of the Miner’s Hotel. The three-story whitewashed building wasn’t anything fancy, but it was the only hotel in Creede. It was almost always full as it was the only place a traveler could stay. There were a couple of boarding houses but they were more for long-term residents. This was the place that Mr. Thrilway had told Marta he was staying. Royce wanted to know what made this man, or any other for that matter, think they could just ride onto a man’s property and expect him to sell to them. He also wanted to get a look at the man Marta had told him had made a personal and very ungentlemanly threat toward her. Royce would hear the man out about the offer, but then he’d make it plain that his ranch wasn’t for sale. He’d also make certain this “Jasper” knew threats or worse against his family would not be tolerated. Royce might not be as quick as the Preacher but he wasn’t a slouch when it came to gun work, either. If this Jasper fellow knew what was good for him, he’d heed Royce’s warning today.

Royce entered and walked right up to the desk. “I’m looking for a Mr. Thrilway. I was told I could find him here.”

The clerk behind the desk nodded and pointed at the dining room to Royce’s left. “Mr. Thrilway and company are in the dining room at present.”

Royce nodded, “Much obliged.”

He turned and entered the dining room. It wasn’t hard to figure out which man was Thrilway. He was the only man in a suit and he looked like he weighed at least four hundred pounds. He was as round as a heifer ready to drop a calf. His black hair was slicked back, and his pencil-thin mustache was waxed and curled. His suit was exactly what Royce expected it to be, a black double-breasted with a white shirt and black bow tie. A bowler hat sat on the table at his left hand. He looked like the type of man someone would send to make a slimy offer to buy a man’s livelihood for less than it was worth. Sitting to his left was a man whose skin was as white as fresh cream. He was dressed all in black like a gunslinger. He hadn’t removed his black Stetson that was pulled low on his head, hiding his eyes in shadow.

While the dandy didn’t even look up at Royce’s approach, the gunslinger let his fork settle on his plate, and his hand went below the table. Without even looking, Royce knew it was resting on top of his revolver.

Royce walked right up to the table, keeping the gunslinger in front of him. He glanced over at the dandy who was still stuffing forkful after forkful of food into his mouth. "You Thrilway?”

Without pausing in stuffing his mouth, the dandy nodded. “I’m Mr. Thrilway. How can I help you?”

Royce wouldn’t look away from the dangerous one. The man was staring just as hard at Royce as Royce was at him. “Name’s Clark; my wife said you and several armed men came to my ranch to talk to me yesterday.”

The man finally put down his fork and wiped his mouth on his napkin before reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a small notebook. “Clark, Clark…” He ran his fingers down the page before turning to another, stopping about halfway down the third page. “Ah yes, Royce Clark, owner of the Circle C. Sixty-five thousand acres, some timberland, the rest grazing land. One ranch house, barn, bunkhouse, and foreman's hut. Plus a chicken coop and several line shacks. Estimated a thousand head of cattle.” He looked up at Royce. “Have a seat, Mr. Clark. I have a proposition for you.”

Royce pulled out the chair facing the quite pale-skinned man, and without taking his eyes from the other man’s, slowly seated himself allowing his right hand to rest on the handle of his Colt as well. “I’m listening.”

The man cleared his throat. “I represent a party that is interested in purchasing your ranch and cattle from you. The party is willing to pay you two dollars an acre and fifteen dollars a head for the cattle. They will also purchase any of the horses you wish to sell at ten dollars each.”

Royce couldn’t not look at the slimy toad sitting to his right. “You’re joking. I paid more than that ten years ago when I purchased the spread, and there wasn’t a single building on it.”

“I assure you that this offer isn’t a joke. It is what my employer is willing to pay, and I suggest that you consider it very seriously.”

Royce shook his head. “Mr. Thrilway, let me make a couple of things very plain to you and your men. First, the Circle C is not for sale. Certainly not at that price, but honestly, not at any price. It’s my family’s home. We have blood, sweat, and tears in that land, not to mention loved ones buried there. Secondly, you and your men are not welcome on my ranch. I don’t appreciate coming home to a wife who is upset because a man with several heavily armed thugs paid her an unexpected visit. Finally, and this is more for your pet there.” Royce pointed at the gunslinger who hadn’t said a word the entire time. “If you make any more rude remarks or threats to my wife or any member of my family, I will show you how we treat yellow bellies like you here in Colorado. I hope I’ve made my position plain to you fellas."

The gunslinger spoke, his voice as cold as the stare he was still giving Royce. “Be careful, cowboy. You have no clue who you’re talking to and threatening.”

Royce leaned forward so that the gunslinger could see his warning had no effect on him. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with, either, slick.”

The overweight messenger put his notebook back in his pocket. “I would strongly advise you to rethink your position, Mr. Clark. My employer doesn’t take well to not getting what he wants.”

Royce stood and placed his Stetson back on his head. “That’s his problem. I don’t take well to threats against me and mine. You can tell your boss the only way he’ll get my ranch is over my dead body.”

The pale-skinned gunslinger smiled. “That can be arranged.”

The fat cat put a hand up. “Mr. White, that isn’t necessary.”

Royce’s eyes narrowed with recognition. “Jasper White, they call you the Ghost?”

The other man nodded. “They do. I see you’ve heard of me.”

Royce nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you. They say you’re a low-life gun for hire who thinks he’s a quick hand with a gun. They say you’d shoot your own ma for a dollar.”

  Jasper laughed. "A dollar! I shot her for free.”

Royce shook his head. “I’ll only say this to you once more. Stay away from my ranch and family. I won’t warn ya again.”

“You tell the little woman I’ll see her later.”

Royce pointed at the man. “Don’t test me on this, White.”

The gun hand laughed and picked up his fork and started putting food in his mouth as Royce slowly backed out of the dining room. He quickly headed out of the hotel and back to his wagon. He needed to get his supplies loaded and get back to the ranch. This wasn’t going to be the end of it. In fact, Royce was pretty sure it was just the beginning.

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