The Wrangler's Woman. Ruth Jean Dale
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Bob Muskowitz, the long drink of water at the end of the bar, nodded. “They’ll play hell gettin’ any help from around here,” he predicted. “Their daddy ticked off just about everybody in this town at one time or another and they’re probably just like him.”
Heads nodded solemnly, all except Jack’s. Disgusted with himself for doing it, he still felt duty bound to speak up. It was hell to be beholden to a man you disliked and then have him die before you could repay your debt of honor.
“Wil Keene wasn’t—” he swallowed hard “—all bad.”
“Wal, where’s that comin’ from?”
Joe Bob gave the speaker an incredulous glance. “Where you been? Remember when Jack’s grandpa rolled his pickup last year? It was Wil who hauled the old man out just before the gas tank exploded—am I right, Jack? Saved Austin’s life, sure as shootin’.”
“That the way it was, Jack?” the other asked.
“Just about.” Jack didn’t like having his business discussed in public, but what could you do in a small town like Hard Knox?
“I still wouldn’t want to be one of them Keene brothers,” Joe Bob said emphatically. “I heard all about ’em—triplets, somebody said. Names are Danny, Nicky and Tony. Ain’t that sweet?”
“It’s not their front names that bother me,” the other cowboy said, “it’s the last one—Keene.”
“You got that right…never trust a Keene, just like their old man.” There were knowing nods all around.
Jack figured he ought to stick up for Wil Keene, but how? If he hadn’t owed Wil, he’d likely be making the same harsh judgments. And the thing was, Grandpa didn’t drive a danged bit better today than he had when he flipped that pickup and put his grandson between this rock and a hard place.
“Now,” he said halfheartedly, “don’t be too hard on ’em before you even lay eyes on ’em. They could be real nice guys.”
“From Montana?” Miguel Reyes, hitherto silent, raised his brows. “It’s too cold up there. Makes people all pinched and pale.” He looked at his own brown hand as if for emphasis.
“Yeah, and they talk funny, too,” another chimed in. “Why, I heard tell—”
The outside door flew open and Dylan Sawyer, a young cowboy from the XOX, stuck his head inside. “Hey, everybody, the Keene kids are in town! I just saw a dusty Jeep with Montana plates pull into the parking lot at the Y’all Come Café! Let’s go check ’em out!”
The bar of the Sorry Bastard emptied in a flash. Jack sat there for a moment longer, practically alone except for the lady bartender, who also happened to be the owner, Rosie Mitchell.
She looked at him, rolled her eyes and said, “Well, hell. There goes my Saturday business. At least you didn’t run off on me.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, Rosie.” Jack slid off his stool, digging in his jeans pocket for bills, which he tossed on the bar. “I may not like the Keenes any more than anybody else around here does, but I always pay my debts.”
And the sooner, the better. All he wanted was to be done with the Keenes, the whole lot of ’em, once and for all.
THE Y’ALL COME CAFÉ WAS only a block and a half away, so Jack hoofed it. As he neared the little restaurant, he saw the last of the cowboy crowd disappear inside. It was almost enough to make him feel sorry for the Keene brothers.
All set to follow, he caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see a woman walk around the side of the building from the big back parking lot. She was leading just about the best looking Appaloosa gelding he’d ever laid eyes on.
She saw him, too. Their gazes met and all of a sudden he couldn’t have told you whether that horse was a palomino or a bay. In her fringed leather jacket with a light wind ruffling her hair, she was even better looking than her horse, which was going some. He realized his mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut.
She raised slender brows in silent acknowledgment and turned away, the horse following obediently. Up and down she led the animal, obviously working out travel kinks. She must have just unloaded him from a horse trailer and was looking to his needs before seeing to her own.
Jack liked that. The woman must know horses. When she turned back in his direction the next time, he gave her a tentative smile. “Howdy,” he said. “Just get into town?”
Beautiful chocolate-brown eyes widened incredulously. “Was that a lucky guess?”
“What can I say?” He shrugged modestly, playing her little game. “Are you just passing through?”
“That’s right.”
“Mind me asking where you’re headed?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She turned sharply and led the horse away from him again.
When she reached the outer limits of the small graveled area, she had no choice but to turn back again. When she did, he was waiting.
“Didn’t mean to sound nosy.”
“Well, you did.” But she seemed somewhat mollified.
“I’d be happy to help you with your horse if—”
“Touch my horse and die!” Her eyes flashed; she had an extremely expressive face.
“Sorry!” He threw up his hands and backed up the steps to the front door of the café. “Just tryin’ to be neighborly.”
“Yes, well…whatever.” The look she gave him said she wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out he was actually a horse thief or worse, if there was anything worse.
This time when she turned away, he did, too. Nothing to be gained here. He might as well go on inside and gawk at the Keene brothers along with everybody else in town.
DANI WATCHED with skepticism as the tall, good-looking cowboy entered the café. At twenty-five, she’d lived long enough to know that strange men did not attempt to engage her in idle conversation without some ulterior motive. Usually it was to get closer to her sisters, but this guy hadn’t even seen Toni and Niki yet so he must have been interested in Sundance, the Appaloosa she’d raised from a colt and trained herself.
Granny said Dani was too suspicious, but she didn’t see how that was possible. All her life men had tried to use her to get to her gorgeous sisters, and all her life she’d seen right through them and sent them packing with her tart tongue and shoot-from-the-lip attitude.
Sighing, she led Sundance back around the building and loaded him into the trailer. He obeyed her commands with reluctance.
“It’s almost over, old boy.” She patted his speckled rump before banging the door closed. “Next stop, the Bar K!”
A little shiver of anticipation shot through her at the sound of it. All her life she’d wanted a ranch of her own, a place where she and her sisters and their grandmother could settle down and live happily ever after. Of course, Toni and Niki would get married eventually, but that was a long way away.
As for herself, she doubted she’d ever marry. After what their father had done to their mother, she couldn’t imagine why any of the triplets would take a chance on a man. Toni, on the other hand, seemed unscathed by their father’s desertion, to Dani’s total amazement. As for Niki…Niki kept her own counsel in many areas.
All of which meant that Dani must be chary for all their sakes…but that cowboy had been tempting.
More than six feet tall, she judged, with wide shoulders and a lithe way of moving. Strong jawed for sure, but that was about all she could tell about his face, shadowed as it was by a brown Stetson hat. A working cowboy, obviously, in off the range for a little weekend fun and frolic.
She shocked herself by wondering