CHAPTER FIVE
Penny jumped at the sound of steps approaching. Jerking another tissue from the box, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Her eyes were as raw as if she’d been caught out in a two-day sandstorm, but she couldn’t stop the tears trailing down her cheeks.
Sally set a tray down on top of a small table. “I brought us lunch, unless you’d rather come down to the kitchen.”
Penny shook her head, unable to meet Sally’s gaze.
“Poor Dear, you have made use of those tissues, haven’t you?”
Penny sniffed and gasped for breath. “I—I didn’t believe it was true. Figured you faked that pamphlet.” She gulped for air. “Guess you couldn’t fake that many newspaper clippings.”
Sally scooted a chair near and removed the cover. “How far did you read?”
“E—Earl’s purchase of the ranch and the trials of Jim Belton and the others.” She sobbed again, “Is it true they never found my cousin Charlie?”
Sally settled onto her chair and picked up a thick sandwich. “Never did that we know of. Didn’t make the papers if they did.”
“I shot him.” Penny reached for another tissue.
Sally paused with her sandwich halfway to her mouth. “I don’t recall the reports saying you shot him.”
“They said it was crossfire. But I saw him fall.” She sobbed again. “When I fired I never thought about hitting anyone. Just wanted to slow them down so they wouldn’t catch me.”
She wiped her nose. “No, that’s not true. When I fired the rifle, Charlie’d almost caught up to me and aimed his gun right at me. He… He’d already shot off my hat. You can see why I was plenty scared he’d kill me. But he . . . he had a wife and little boy.”
“You can’t feel bad about shooting a man who tired to steal your cattle and kill you.” Sally slapped her leg. “I can’t believe I said that.”
“You still don’t believe I’m Penelope?” Penny hated that her question sounded like an anguished wail.
“Honestly, now I don’t know what to believe. You sure do look like that portrait in the living room.” She took a bite of her sandwich and appeared to be deep in thought as she chewed. “No one else knew exactly what happened to Charlie Terry.”
The betrayal fired her anger. “Oh, they knew, but admitting they were chasing me would have made things worse for them.”
“After Penelope’s—um, your—disappearance, the sheriff poked holes in the story that they were helping you chase rustlers. Eventually, one of the cowards confessed, and that was the end for all the others. Guess you read that part.” Sally took a sip of milk. “You’d better eat, Dear. You’re going to need your strength until we can figure this out.”
Penny took a plate, but only looked at the food. “I am Penelope, I tell you.”
Sally set her plate on the table and gazed steadily at Penny. Taking Penny’s hand gently, she said, “I’m starting to believe you, Dear, but where does that leave you? Surely you see what I mean? Earl Knight bought the ranch and his family has lived here ever since. Officially, it now belongs to Jake.”
How could she stand anymore? Terror washed over her. Somehow she had to make people understand. “But this is all mine, I was born on this ranch and have lived here all my life, except for those two years at that awful finishing school in Austin. Until last night I ran this ranch. I don’t have anything else, nowhere else to go, don’t know how to fit in anyplace else.”
Sally patted her hand and stood. “It’s not my place to interfere, but I think you should remain here at the ranch and sleep in Pen—um, your room until we figure out what to do. For now, eat. You’re past the hurtful part, so you’ll find the rest of the clippings interesting. The Knights have made positive improvements through the years. I’m sure you’ll approve.”
“Improvements to my ranch.” Bitterness gnawed at her insides. Penny sighed and picked up the sandwich. “If you say so. I am hungry and I admit I’m curious, too. Guess it won’t hurt to read more.”
But no matter what anyone said, this was still her ranch. Dang it, they’d have to hang her hide on a fence like a coyote before she let anyone else keep her property.
* * * *
“Straighten up that post, Ed.” Jake ratcheted the fence stretcher until the barbed wire was taut. Frustration had his head near to exploding. Someone had set out to ruin him, and he’d be damned if he let the bastard succeed. This was Tolbert’s handiwork, but that sonofabitch wasn’t the guy in charge.
Once more Jake asked himself who wanted his ranch and for which of the many reasons that made the place valuable—cattle, cutting horses, prime acreage, oil and gas, water rights? And why the hell this place when there were ranches all over the state—all over the West for that matter—and probably a third of them for sale? He’d wracked his brain for the reason this place had been targeted.
Had his family royally ticked off someone? Was this personal, directed at him? Sure he knew some didn’t like him, but far as he knew no one had this venomous enmity towards him. In fact, he truly believed most people in the area respected him.
He turned the facts over in his mind for the hundredth—maybe the thousandth time. Since he’d turned down the first offer to buy, he’d been plagued with so-called accidents like this one. Not that the offer had been unrealistically low—suspiciously the opposite. But Jake was not selling. Not ever.
He couldn’t. The Knight-Terry Ranch was entailed. Stupid for this day and time, but it was. The place remained Earl’s permanent shrine to a woman who’d refused to marry him, plus a damn fine ranch. Even if that were not true, Jake would never sell.
But that reminded Jake of the woman waiting at his home. The nut job who said she was Penelope Jane Terry. He exhaled in disgust and tossed the fence stretcher into his truck toolbox. All he needed right now was a loony throwing more complications into his life. Even one as hot as her. He slammed the lid with more force than he intended.
“Boss, all the cattle are back on the right side of the fence.” Rowdy Fakes leaned his lanky frame against the fender of his dually. Mud covered the big pickup and the white color barely showed through. Rowdy wore almost as much grime. He straightened and beat at his dungarees. “That last dang calf like to bested me ’fore I wrassled him at the creek.”
Billy Nichols locked the hasp on the gate. “If I catch the bastard what pulled this fence down, I’ll feed him my fist a time or two.”
“You’ll have to get behind me,” Jake said. “We’ve wasted too many hours fighting mischief. Let’s get going, boys.” He whistled for his dog, which raced for the pickup and hopped into the open door.
Rowdy sidled over near Jake. “I asked around again, quiet like, boss. Nobody knows anything about who’s behind this. Just that Tolbert fella, and he ain’t smart enough to think things up on his own.”
“My thoughts exactly. Keep your ears open. Someone is bound to see or hear something sooner or later.”
As he walked back to his own truck, Rowdy paused. “Want I should hunt up Tolbert and follow him?”
“Tried that myself. Learned zip. He’s not that bright, but he’s sly.”
Rowdy opened his truck door. “He’ll make a mistake, and we’ll be on him like scales on a snake.”
Jake hoped so. He waved at Rowdy and the other hands as they passed by. At this rate, he’d soon be spending all his time fighting mischief with none left to run the ranch—or ready cash. Was that the plan? If so, Tolbert and whoever he worked for had better come up with a better idea.
Damned if Jake Knight would be the one who ran this ranch into the ground. No sirree, someday he’d have a wife and kids and this would be his first son’s legacy. And his grandson’s.
Jake climbed into the cab of his truck and started the engine, eager to leave the scene. He took time to give Rascal’s head a good scratch. Suddenly, he paused when a new thought struck him. What if, like Harmon Terry, he had only a daughter? What then?
Made a man think.
Hell, she’d have one damn fine ranch.
Laughing, Jake pulled onto the highway. A spunky girl like the one who claimed she was Penelope Terry wouldn’t be bad. Undressing her last night had created images he’d as soon forget. He’d lost sleep imagining himself in that bed with her and those long slender legs wrapped around him. Damn, maybe Bart was right and he’d been too long without a woman.
He drove into Terry Springs and stopped at Mason’s Farm and Ranch Store. Kevin Mason stood behind the counter yelling across the store at his sons, Scott and Karl, “Move those feed sacks like I told you yesterday. Put ’em against the wall.” He looked at Jake and grimaced. “Kids. Don’t listen to a damn thing I say. If I don’t have a heart attack before the year’s out, it’ll be a miracle.”
Jake gave Kevin his order then waited at the counter while the Mason boys loaded his truck. Kevin Mason knew every bit of gossip in the county. “Any strangers hanging around town?”
“A couple of tourists came through earlier this week headed for Fredericksburg, but they only stayed one night at Angela’s Bed and Breakfast.” Kevin frowned at him. “You still having trouble at the ranch?”
“Yeah. Lost a mile of fence last night. Cattle all over the road.” He fought to keep the anger from his voice.
Kevin scratched his chin. “That could have been bad. Someone hit one, you lose the cow plus it’s your fault.”
“Got that right. I’m not looking to buy some guy a new vehicle or pay his hospital costs.” He clapped Kevin on the shoulder and headed for his truck. Worse, if someone had died after hitting one of Jake’s cows, he’d be liable. He’d hate like everything if someone had died, but nothing he needed less than a lawsuit to complicate his life.
His temper flared again at the thought of the repeated sabotage at the ranch. He’d like to get his hands on that Tolbert and force some answers from the wily thug. Jake got in the cab and started the engine. As the truck rolled out of the store parking lot, Jake spotted Doug Tolbert slinking toward The Mecca Corner Café.
Easing the pickup into a slot in front of the barber shop two doors down from the eating spot, Jake parked and climbed down. “Stay, Rascal.” Damned if he wasn’t going to give that Tolbert a piece of his mind.
Jake caught up with the man at the café’s door. “Hey, Tolbert. You know anything about someone tearing out a mile of my fence?”
The other man turned red. “Why would I know anything about that?”
“That’s what I want to know. You’ve been creating problems for me and I want to know why?” Jake stepped closer and pointed at Tolbert. “Who’s paying you to screw with my ranch?”
Tolbert’s sneer made Jake want to punch him in the face.
“You got the wrong fella, Knight. Like you care, sitting on that fine spread with all your cash. Thinkin’ you’re better ’n the rest of us.”
“You’re the one who’s got it wrong. I don’t think I’m better than other people. Just better than you, you low life skunk, and whoever you’re working for.”
Tolbert pointed a thumb at his chest. “I work for myself, and you’d better back off if you know what’s good for you.”
“Not until I find out why you’re trying to drive me out of business. You’re not smart enough to figure out what to do unless someone tells you. I plan to find out who’s calling the shots.” Jake noticed a crowd gathering, but he was too hot under the collar to care.
Tolbert narrowed his beady eyes. “Listen here, nobody talks to me that way.”
“Oh, yeah? I do.” Jake stabbed an index finger into Tolbert’s chest. “I want answers and I want them now.”
“How’s this for an answer?” Tolbert swung at Jake’s jaw and connected.
Jake stumbled against the café’s brick wall but remained on his feet. He jabbed a fist at the other man’s midsection. What looked like flab was solid. Jake and Tolbert traded punches while townspeople gathered.
“Break it up!” Bart pushed between the two men. “I said break it up.”
Jake became aware of Rascal’s barking from the truck window. Jake touched his split lip. Man, it hurt like a son of a gun. He’d bet he’d have a black eye to go with his damaged mouth. At least it didn’t feel as if his teeth were loosened. He took pleasure in seeing that bastard Tolbert nursing a bloody nose and swollen eye.
Bart waved the crowd away. “Nothing more to see here, folks. Go on about your business.” He turned to his brother. “What the hell are you thinking, fighting in the street like kids on a school yard?”
Before Jake could answer, Bart glared at Tolbert. “And this is the third time in as many months you’ve been involved in a brawl.” He motioned both men toward the sheriff’s office across the street and halfway down the block. “Both of you get going to my office. And you’d both better be prepared to give me an explanation.”
Neither man spoke until they were inside Bart’s office and Bart motioned each of them to sit down. “All right, let’s hear it.”
“He started it,” the men said in unison.
Bart tilted back in his chair and looked from Jake to Tolbert and back. “Who swung the first punch?”
Tolbert hung his head but said nothing.
Jake glared at Tolbert. “He clipped me on the jaw.”
“How do you think it looks, two grown men trading punches on the sidewalk in broad daylight? You’re both acting like idiots.”
Tolbert looked up long enough to send a poisonous look at Jake. “Yeah, well, I was just goin’ in for my afternoon coffee and pie when he stopped me. Accused me of messin’ with his ranch. I got a right to defend myself, ain’t I?”
“You spend a lot of time ‘defending’ yourself, Doug.” Bart pointed at his brother. “You, get out of here and go home. I don’t want any more trouble, hear me?”
Jake rose. “Yeah, yeah.” He swung his hat against his leg in frustration.
Tolbert’s battered face turned an ugly shade of red. “How come he gets to go and I don’t? Might of known you’d give family special treatment.”
Bart held up his hand. “I’m not giving anyone special treatment. I want Jake out of town before you leave here. There’ll be no more fighting in this town. Got it?”
“I don’t want any more trouble either.” Jake speared Tolbert with a glare. “Not here or at the ranch.”
Tolbert growled something under his breath.
Bart raised his eyebrows at Jake. “You leaving or would you like to be locked up?”
Jake needed no more urging to leave. “I’m leaving.” He clapped his hat on his head and walked out the door. He climbed into his truck and slammed the door.
“Settle down, Rascal. We’re going home.”
He fumed all the way to the ranch. His rumbling stomach reminded him he’d missed lunch. His jaw ached like thunder.
Jake touched the cheek below his eye. Embarrassing to have a black eye at his age. Worse, the pain and embarrassment had accomplished nothing. He was no closer to knowing who that bastard Tolbert worked for, damn the man.
When he pulled into the drive, he spotted the dark flame of his guest’s hair as she walked away from the house. Now where the hell was she headed and what did she have in her arms? He pulled to the back of the house and slammed the truck into park. If she was up to no good, she was going straight to jail.
She walked to the top of the hill and disappeared. He picked up his pace and took off after her. He skidded to a stop when he saw her enter the family cemetery. He snapped his fingers. “Go home, Rascal.”
Rascal sulked, but headed for the back door.