Lone Star Bride. Carolyn Davidson
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face, number one being his new job. There wasn’t time to be looking at a woman, even one as pretty and appealing as Alexis Powers. But he might just consider the matter. Sometimes a man needed the warmth of a woman and unless he missed his guess, this one was a prime specimen.
He tucked into his plate of food, relishing the light pancakes especially. “Tastes like the pancakes my mama used to make me for breakfast.” His approval was apparent, and Alexis offered him two more, balanced on her pancake turner. Jamie nodded his thanks at the offer, and buttered them lavishly, then poured on a generous helping of syrup.
Across the table from him, Hank finished up his own share of the food and leaned back in his chair, as if assessing the young man who’d come to take over the running of the ranch. “What are your plans, Webster?” His query was nicely worded, but his eyes told a different story, flashing fire in Jamie’s direction.
“Haven’t got any yet,” James answered. “I just got here, Hank. Give me a week to settle in and I’ll answer your questions.”
“Is Brace Caulfield unhappy with my work here? He hasn’t given me any grief up until now,” Hank said. “I’ve kept him up to date on everything that goes on.”
“He’s pleased the ranch is thriving, but he seems to want someone in charge who’ll have a vested interest in the ranch. And that’s me. I answer directly to Brace, with an eye to presenting a first-class operation to the boy when the time comes for him to take over.”
“He’s a Clark,” Hank said quietly, and yet Jamie caught a hint of bitterness in the words.
“Yeah, he is. And just what do you mean by that?” Jamie asked, on the alert for the man’s negative attitude toward Stephen. The boy might have been born a Clark, but Brace and Sarah had given him more than just a new name.
Hank shrugged, a slow movement of his wide shoulders. “Just that old man Clark was pretty much a rascal, and so were the sons. I suspect blood runs true in the family, at least from what I’ve seen for myself, and I don’t look for much in the boy.”
“The boy, as you call him, is named Stephen and is being brought up by Brace Caulfield and his wife, Sarah, Stephen’s aunt. Even though he came from a father who abused him, he has a good home and will have a top-notch upbringing. I don’t think he’ll be a disgrace to his folks, and one day he’s going to take over this ranch and run it well, contrary to what his heritage suggests might be the case. Sarah’s twin was his mother and he’s gonna do her proud.”
“You ever consider bein’ a lawyer?” Hank asked with a grin. “You do a dandy job of defending the boy.”
“I suspect he’s too honest to be a lawyer,” Alexis said quietly, the coffeepot in her hand as she approached the table and the two men sitting there. “More coffee, Mr. Webster?” she asked.
“Thanks, I believe I will,” Jamie said, careful not to pay any particular attention to the girl. Woman is more like it, he thought glancing down to where her booted feet stood beside his chair. It was understandable that the men on this ranch were squabbling for the chance to court her. Causing discord among the men was forbidden, though, and he would not stand for it.
“And what do you do with your time, Miss Alexis?” he asked, picking up his cup.
“I cook a bit, ride a lot and in general do whatever needs to be done. I’m more interested in the young foals, but that job is pretty well already taken by men probably more capable than I am. My father won’t let me work on the roundup or in the branding pens, but I lend a hand with the orphaned calves when necessary. I’m real handy with a bottle when the mama has lost the battle and a calf is left alone.”
“A lot of those for you to tend?” Jamie asked, looking up at her with bland interest. At least he hoped his look didn’t hold a shred of the attraction he felt for the girl.
“Usually several in the spring, only two this year. We were lucky.” She turned and set the coffeepot back on the stove and hesitated.
“What do you plan on doing with your time, Mr. Webster?”
“Can we make it Jamie, or James?” he asked with a bland smile. “Whichever you like will do.”
She turned then, gave him a long look as if she read his thoughts, and her answer was what he had expected. “If you’ll be informal enough to call me Alex or Alexis, whichever you like.”
“I can do that,” Jamie answered quickly. “If it’s all right with your pa.”
“She’s her own woman,” Hank said, leaning back in his chair and smiling at his daughter. “I quit tellin’ her what to do when she started puttin’ her hair up.”
Jamie looked at Alexis, whose hair hung in golden splendor around her shoulders and halfway down her back. “And when was that?” he asked.
“Well, most of the time she’s all gussied up with that mop of hair on top of her head or hanging in a braid down her back. It’s usually only at breakfast time that we see her this-a-way.” Hank laughed and shot a tender look at his daughter. “I kinda like breakfast,” he said softly.
Alexis left the stove to fend for itself and circled the table to stand next to her father. “He’s a bit prejudiced,” she told Jamie, bending to plant a kiss on her father’s temple.
“I can see why.” Jamie swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood, wondering how those lips would taste against his own. “I’m gonna take a look around, if you don’t mind,” he said to Hank. “Kinda get the feel of things.”
“No problem with that. It’s all yours now, Webster.”
“Not really,” Jamie said, contradicting the man. “You’ll still have a bundle of work to do, keeping up with all the numbers and giving me tips. Right now I’d like to meet the men who are working close-by.”
“I wrote to Caulfield and told him I’d give you my support. I’ll be happy to do whatever you have in mind for me.”
It was almost too easy, Jamie thought. Too slick a turnover, with a stranger coming in and the foreman stepping back without an argument. And yet, maybe Hank was tired of the hassle involved with dealing with men and a ranch of this size.
“I’ll come out with you and we can ride around to where the men are working,” Hank said. “You want a different horse, or are you planning to use your own?”
“My gelding is pretty worn-out from crossing Texas in the past few days,” Jamie said. “What do you have in the barn?”
“A couple of nice mares and a hot-blooded stallion that’ll give you a run for your money. I guess you get to choose any horse you want, boss.”
Jamie lifted an eyebrow and hitched up his trousers, feeling his gun as it thumped against his thigh. “I’m not much for being the bossy type, Hank. I hope you know right off the bat that I’m not here to make any sweeping changes or chop any heads off. I’m just doing a job for my boss. And that’s the man I answer to in the long run.”
“I’ve already exchanged ‘howdies’ with Chet,” Jamie said. “Just haven’t shaken his hand yet.”
“Here’s your chance then,” Hank said as their horses moved to stand beside that of the ranch hand in question.
Jamie stuck out his right hand and Chet did not hesitate, grasping it in a friendly manner. “Yes sir, I’ve taken a gander at this fella before, Hank. He rides a right pretty horse.”
“Pretty horse?” Hank repeated, lifting his eyebrow as if he mocked the phrase.
“You know what I’m sayin’,” Chet said with a laugh. “If it was a mare, I’d call her a beauty. Since he rides a gelding, and a nice-lookin’ pinto at that, he’s simply pretty.”
“Chet’s our number one hand around here,” Hank said with a grin in Jamie’s direction. “He’s an old-timer. Been