"One day I really am going to learn to cook," Corrine declared after the kitchen was clean and they were walking into the great room to join their husbands.

  Vanessa peeked over her shoulder at José, who was leaning against the back doorway. When he caught her eye, he shook his head slowly.

  She chuckled in return. No one in their right mind would ever want Corrine in the kitchen. "I hope you don't start cooking," she said pertly. "Your kitchen may never survive it."

  Corrine shook her head in disbelief. "It just makes me so mad. How come I can't make even eggs palatable?"

  "God must have other plans for you."

  "I suppose." Seeing the baby asleep in a quilt in a wooden cradle that Merritt and carved himself, she sighed. "Maybe I should stick to taking care of the children."

  "They are all turning out mighty nice. I think that sounds like a fine idea."

  "You're not talking about cooking again, are you, pet?" Merritt called out.

  "Only in passing."

  Clayton grimaced. "You never could cook. You managed to make cabbage taste like shoe leather during the war."

  "You were grateful for my efforts."

  "I'm grateful now . . . but maybe we don't have to be so grateful that you're cooking?"

  "Ha, ha," Corrine retorted, sitting on the large sofa near the fireplace.

  Vanessa took a spot near Clayton, preferring to be near him. He rubbed her shoulder when they got settled.

  Merritt followed that with a knowing look. "It's good to see you two getting along so well."

  "I feel the same way. It's been a hard, long road, but the end was worth it all."

  "It always is," Corrine said, tears once again filling her eyes."It always is."

  22

  As the sun rose over the Rocky Mountains in all its fiery glory, Clayton and Merritt forged a new bond as they walked along the timeworn planks of the front porch. "So, you're sure you don't mind me working here? It would only be for a while," Clayton said slowly. "Until I get my feet settled."

  "Until you get your feet settled?" Merritt scowled. "Nope, that's not good enough. Honestly, Captain, you minded me a whole lot better when we were in the military."

  "We're both different now," Clayton pointed out. Now that he and Vanessa had found happiness and a promise of a future together, the days of fighting seemed another lifetime ago.

  "Me, yes. You, however, are just as stubborn as ever."Slapping a hand across his good friend's shoulder, Merritt said, "Listen to me, Clayton, and listen well. I need your help. I need your expertise and your way with men. Helping me run the Bar M is needed and would be greatly appreciated."

  "I hear you."

  "Do you?" Squinting in the sunlight, Merritt continued."I believe in charity, but this isn't it. I've got eight hundred acres stretching out across this hilly, arid, beautiful, difficult part of God's kingdom. My cows know the terrain better than I do." He looked sideways at Clayton, his scarred cheek showing every mark in the waning light as he did so. "Even a man like me can't handle all this on my own."

  Clayton's lips twitched as he fought the laugh rising forth.

  As Merritt chuckled too, he added, "Truth is, I can hardly handle your sister."

  As if to point that out, Corrine let out a shriek from the back of the house loud enough to make a weaker man go running. To give Clayton and Merritt their due, each hardly moved a muscle.

  Except for Clayton, who finally gave into temptation and let out a roar of laughter. "Maybe we need to go recruit more men; you might never get away from the house."

  "Shoot, maybe I need to recruit more married men to keep an eye on my wife." He shook his head. "How did she do it, raising Scout on her own with just your Aunt Marge for company?"

  "I don't know." Pondering the thought, Clayton said slowly, "Maybe she didn't have anyone to complain to back then.Maybe now that she does, she lets loose."

  "Again and again." As Corrine's shriek turned into peals of laughter, he chuckled as well. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

  "I'm glad."

  Merritt rested his hands on his lap. "So, we set? You'll work with me for the price we set?"

  "It still seems high."

  "It's the going rate."

  "It's more than I made as a foreman."

  "You've got a wife now. No boss pays the same to single men as married. Not fitting."

  Clayton supposed that was true. "Thank you, then. I appreciate it."

  Merritt stood up. "Let's not talk about this again. No need."

  "I do love to come to town," Corrine said. "It always feels good to see things other than a cluster of cows."

  "Cedar Springs is a darling place," Vanessa agreed.

  "I don't know if darling is the right descriptor, but I do like the shopping and seeing the ladies who are visiting to take the waters."

  Vanessa had heard about Cedar Springs's famous bathhouse.One day she imagined she and Clayton there for a holiday, just enjoying being together.

  After another few minutes of talking and looking in windows, Corrine gasped at a fetching bonnet in the window of Mabel's Millinery. "I'm going to stop in here and try on that hat. Do you mind?"

  "Not at all. I'll just be in one of these other stores. How about we meet in a half hour or so?"

  "Sounds good," Corrine said before entering Miss Mable's.

  Vanessa watched Corrine gesture to the peacock blue bonnet, and remembered a time when such a thing would have caught her notice. But those days seemed like a lifetime ago.Now, instead, she had other things on her mind.

  She couldn't shake the argument she and Clayton had had about her money. There wasn't a great amount, but it would surely help buy some necessities, and to her way of thinking, she owed Clayton so much.

  She'd seen his saddle, saw how worn it was from years and years of use, and knew that a new one would be extremely appreciated. She also knew Clayton well enough to realize that he'd buy a dozen peacock blue hats to make her happy before spending any money on himself.

  That money would help pay for supplies for the house, too.

  Besides, it had been months since she had left the Circle Z. Time and again, Clayton had checked with people to see if they'd heard her name being bandied about. No one had. It was time to move on.

  Obviously, Price had. She felt certain that no matter what Clayton believed, no one was coming after her.

  With that in mind, she strode into the telegraph office again. After visiting with Mr. Humphrey, she learned that the bank had been contacted, but no reply had been heard yet.

  Since so much time had gone past and nothing had happened, Vanessa gave Mr. Humphrey permission to contact the bank again. She gave him the information he requested.

  "It would be my pleasure to assist you in any way I can, Mrs.Proffitt. Shall I let Mr. Proffitt know when I hear a response?"

  A tiny tingling of doubt edged closer at just the thought of Clayton finding out about the transfer of money before she did."That's not necessary. I should be accompanying Mrs. Merritt back here in a month. I'll visit with you then." Leaning forward, she confided, "It's a surprise for Clayton."

  "And a very good one it will be, I'm sure," the banker said jovially.

  Vanessa left the bank and had just turned the corner when she spied Corrine exiting, a gray hatbox in her hand. "Did you buy a hat?"

  "Two!" Corrine said happily. "I can't wait for Merritt to see me in them."

  "Does he like hats?"

  "He likes me to be happy."

  Vanessa chuckled. "I know the feeling."

  "Where did you go? Did you see anything special?"

  "I've just been window shopping," she said, brightly. "It's a good day to do that."

  Corrine linked her arm through Vanessa's. "This has been fun. Let's come back next month."

  "I'll count on it."

  23

  Six weeks later, Clayton shook her gently awake. "Vanessa? Are you all right? You went back to sleep after I woke you up."

  She struggled to open her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'll be up and dressed in a minute."

  "No hurry." Concern clouding those brown eyes she knew and loved so much, he said, "Are you sure you're all right? You seem a mite sluggish this morning."

  There was no way Vanessa was going to tell Clayton that her sluggishness wasn't a one-time occurrence. Unfortunately, it was happening with more and more regularity—and severity!

  From conversations with Corrine, she had a feeling she knew what was happening to her body, but wasn't quite ready to share the news yet. For the moment, she wanted to hold the secret close to her heart and wait for the perfect opportunity to tell Clayton that they were soon to begin a family of their own.

  "I'm fine," she ended up saying after he looked at her suspiciously again. "Just a little tired, I guess."

  A frown appeared between his eyes. "You're doing too much, sugar." Gesturing toward the pretty calico curtains she'd made with Corrine's help and the feather bed she'd just completed after much hard work with Pearl, he said, "We don't need to be settled right away. We've got time."

  "I know; I just like to keep busy."

  Engulfing her in a hug, he pressed his lips to her brow. "I know you do. You're a wonderful wife."

  The words soothed her as well as the ointment had soothed the marks on her back. For what seemed like forever, she'd wanted to be his wife. Sometimes she felt like pinching herself when she realized that her dreams had become her reality."You're a good husband, too."

  Pretend outrage entered his eyes. "Not wonderful?"

  "Well, now. Wonderful is a pretty strong description, Clayton."

  As she'd hoped, he tossed his hat to the floor and crawled next to her. Next came the kisses and tickles. She laughed, not just because of his fingers to her ribcage, but from the heady feeling that their togetherness brought.

  They'd had so much drama in their lives, it was a new experience to just relax and play with him. After everything they'd been through, Vanessa didn't think they could ever relax enough.

  Lee's neighing outside their cabin's door brought their playing to a halt.

  Clayton pulled himself up and grabbed his hat. "Looks like I just got my reminder call."

  Vanessa scrambled up as well, folding her arms over her chest as she watched him grab his worn leather gloves. "Robert E. Lee is the hardest working horse I know."

  A smile played at the corners of his mouth. "He's a good horse." As he loosened the latch to their home, he said, "I'll be in the far pasture today, counting head and checking calves. I probably won't be back till sundown."

  Vanessa fetched him the tin pail that she'd filled with slices of beef and a half a dried apple pie. "I'll be at the main house until you get home. I told Corrine I'd help with the children today."

  "I'll look for you then."

  He bent to kiss her again. "I'm not anxious to leave. Maybe I can stay a little longer."

  Lee neighed again, causing Vanessa to laugh. "Go on now, Clayton, before Lee barges in here. I wouldn't put it past that horse."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said, tipping his hat before finally leaving her.

  Alone once more, Vanessa sank to one of their table's chairs. If her suspicion was right, one day in their future, Clayton wouldn't be leaving her alone at all. She'd have their baby to care for.

  How could things be any better?

  Merritt met him near Bent Creek, looking as dusty and weary as Clayton felt himself. Merritt's red handkerchief was a wadded mess around his neck—looking ragged and worn after hours of shielding his mouth and nose from dust and grime.Yet still he had a smile for Clayton. "It is days like this when the memories of tracking Yankees doesn't seem so bad," he said by way of greeting.

  "I'd agree, except that all I remember of the war is being scared, hungry, and cold."

  Merritt grinned slowly. "I had more holes in my boots than a weevil could drill in hardtack."

  Clayton laughed. "I'll take this over fighting Yankees, though I have to admit, it's days like today when I miss Texas.Back on the Circle Z there's most likely a bumper crop of pecans. Me and the boys would grab handfuls while we rode for hours."

  "I'd enjoy a handful of pecans right about now," Merritt said. "Supper came and went hours ago."

  They dismounted and led the horses to Bent Creek, a shallow ravine that ran along the edge of the property. There, they drank their fill and watered the horses. Clayton dipped his bandana in the cool stream for what he hoped was the last time that day and swiped his face with the cool fabric.The instant relief revived his parched skin and invigorated his senses.

  Beside him, Merritt cupped his hands and splashed a good amount across his face. "Much better," he exclaimed as thick rivulets slid down his cheeks and jaw. "Now I think I can finally breathe."

  "I counted forty head in the front field," Clayton said as soon as they sat down on the banks. "Three new calves born since last week."

  "How're they doing?"

  "Fine, as near I can tell. Their mommas look to be doing their job."

  "Good. I found one dead calf; looked like it didn't survive the birthing."

  Clayton nodded. On a spread the size of Merritt's, life and death were natural occurrences. "Tomorrow, I'll go east. I haven't been out in that direction in a spell."

  "I might go with you. Bob Thatcher told me on Sunday he's going to be riding his perimeter this week. I'd like to check in with him. I like to keep in touch with him."

  Everything Clayton knew about Merritt's neighbor was positive. "Sounds good."

  They spoke for a bit more, then mounted the horses and headed back to the homestead. They rode companionably, so well together that Clayton realized he'd been a fool to even contemplate ignoring his friend's offer of employment. Merritt obviously appreciated his help, and Clayton found he enjoyed working with someone who saw him as an equal.

  No matter how well he and Bill Grant had gotten along, there'd always been a fine line between boss and employee. It had been expected and had felt comfortable, especially during those first few months after the war, when sharp noises would spook him. Back then, Clayton had been glad to let someone else bear the brunt of responsibility.

  Now, however, he sought a different type of relationship.He appreciated the relaxed give-and-take he and Merritt shared. Instead of maintaining their former chain of command from the days in the war, Merritt respected his ideas and often asked him for advice.

  When they were almost back to the homestead, Merritt halted Red, his sorrel gelding. "Riders approaching."

  Clayton squinted as he looked to the west. There, across the horizon, right where the sun was setting against the rocky terrain, two puffs of dust flew up. Lee perked his ears in awareness.Under his thighs, the muscles in the horse's powerful frame tensed, ready to charge or flee.

  Clayton patted him on the neck. "Be patient, Lee," he murmured. "Let's see what these men want."

  The beat of hooves echoed on the rocky soil. Anticipation burned brightly as it became more and more apparent trouble was approaching. Riders didn't approach anyone without first calling out a warning.

  Never did they approach at such breakneck speeds.

  "Looks like trouble."

  "Yep."

  Clayton pursed his lips that had suddenly become dry. In contrast, his palms sweated inside his gloves, and his posture, like Lee's beneath him, tightened. "I guess we haven't forgotten everything from the war, have we?"

  Merritt pushed his hat back and solemnly watched the two riders come closer. "Nope. I guess we brought back more with us than just memories. I'd know this prickling in the back of my neck anywhere."

  Hoping against hope, Clayton glanced his way. "By any chance you expecting anyone, Merritt?"

  "Nope. You?"

  "No."

  Still, the trespassers neared. Soon it became apparent that both riders were experienced, their ease in their saddles relaxed and assured.

  "One's a paint," Merritt said.

  For a moment, Clayton wondered if Red Cloud had found him, but disregarded that idea as soon as it occurred. For one thing, Red Cloud wouldn't be riding out in the open, especially not if he was with a companion. Secondly, the Indian would have ridden bareback. Finally, Clayton couldn't discern a bit of the distinctive brown markings of the Indian's horse.

  These men had saddles, one inlayed with pieces of silver, if the reflection glinting off the leather was what he thought it was.

  "The other must be a quarter," Clayton said, as a touch of foreboding trickled through him. "It's got four socks."

  "Yep," Merritt said. Red and Lee shifted uneasily. "You armed?"

  "I've got my Colt."

  Merritt laid his Winchester over his lap. "I've got this, but only a couple of shells." He shook his head in frustration. "It's been a long time since I've had any trouble to speak of on my property. Guess I've gotten lax."

  "Let's see what they want. We could be wishing for trouble."

  "Maybe. But I doubt it."

  Clayton squinted. Two men rode side by side and had obviously spotted Clayton and Merritt, but didn't seem to share their unease. By Clayton's best estimate, their pace hadn't slowed one beat.

  Clayton scanned the land to the riders right and left. It looked empty. "I think they're alone."

  Merritt grunted. "One's young."

  Merritt always did have eyes like a hawk. Clayton narrowed his own eyes and saw slender shoulders, a slight build. The other rider didn't look to be holding his seat quite so well. In fact, on further inspection, he looked to be holding on more tightly. Either he was sick or plumb worn-out.

  Once again, he felt the tingling sensation run through him."Other one's sick or old."

  "Yep," Merritt said. "I'm tired of being patient. Let's go see what they want," he said, nudging Red forward.

  Clayton followed, his Colt now cocked and held loosely in his right hand. To Lee's credit, the horse didn't flinch at the feel of the metal against his shoulder. Looked like they all could be battle-ready in a pinch.

  They rode twenty yards, then another fifty.

 

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