Chapter 7   

Jack leaned on the fence and watched Rachel fire his repeating rifle at the target he’d set up fifty yards away. When she’d emptied the gun, she turned toward him with her eyebrows raised.

“Looks pretty good,” he yelled, knowing both the shock of the blasts and the cotton in her ears would deaden the sound of his voice. She’d hit the target with four of the six bullets he’d given her.

She smiled and walked over to him, holding out the rifle.

“Now I think you should learn to handle a revolver.”

The smile drooped. “Do I have to?”

“I think it would be good for you to have one close by in the house.”

She said nothing, looking down at the ground. She scuffed the dirt with the toe of her riding boot.

“What?” Jack asked.

“I just … I’m not really comfortable with it.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Were you comfortable with riding the first time you got on Patch?”

“No.”

“Same thing. You’ve shot the rifle twice now, and you’re hitting more than you’re missing. Seems like you have a good eye for it and a feel for the gun. But the rifle isn’t much good if the enemy is up close. You need to be able to grab that revolver when you need it.”

“You think he’d assault me personally?”

“Why wouldn’t he? You’re the big threat. Let’s say he shoots Ol’ Grumps. What good does that do him?”

“It would scare us,” she said. “Well, me, anyway.”

Jack nodded. “It might even drive you away, but I doubt it. What it would do for sure is decrease the value of the estate. You know his cousin spent a pile of money on that bull. That would be lost if the bull was destroyed. You, on the other hand … If you were out of the picture, he’d get half the estate. Period.”

She stood very still. “You think he’d shoot me?”

Jack just looked at her for a long moment then said softly, “I’m not trying to scare you, Rachel. At least not more than I think is necessary. This man means business, and the surest way for him to get what he wants is for you to be unable to claim the ranch.”

Rachel’s hands shook as she loaded the revolver, following Jack’s instructions carefully. She looked toward him, and he nodded then stepped back. She raised her arms, holding the gun with both hands and pointing it at the target. It was only ten yards away now, but her hands quivered more than they had with the rifle. When she hesitated, Jack stepped up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. That didn’t help. If anything, his touch made her more nervous than ever.

“Steady now,” he said.

She let off one round, but it missed the target. She lowered the revolver and sighed. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

“All right. Let’s leave it for now,” Jack said. “Maybe Abe can come out with you after supper and you can try it again.”

Why Abe? She tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment. Jack probably had other things to do, like taking the evening watch.

He took the handgun from her, and they walked slowly back toward the house. They’d set up an impromptu shooting range in a small dip in the ground, so that the land formed a natural backing for the targets.

“I bet you can hit it every time,” she said. “Especially that close.” She was a little disgusted with her poor showing.

“You’ll be better next time, when you’re fresh.”

“Maybe. I hope so.”

“You did great with the rifle.”

She shrugged, having no explanation for that.

“Most of the ammunition is kept in the house, in the drawer under the gun rack,” Jack said. “We keep a few boxes in the bunkhouse. If you don’t mind, I’ll take a few more to increase our stock out there.”

“Sure,” Rachel said.

He nodded. “We’ll leave you plenty. But I’m putting it on the list for the next trip to town. Until this is settled, we want to make sure we have plenty of cartridges.”

“Of course.”

They passed the bull’s enclosure on their way to the house. The men had reinforced the fence, and it was now nearly as tall as Rachel. She paused and stood on tiptoe to look over the barrier. Ol’ Grumps stood in one corner munching on hay the men had thrown into his trough. He snorted and shook his head.

“Do you think Andrew Hill knows about him?” Rachel asked.

“No idea. He might have seen him, I suppose, when he rode out here. But I think he was more interested in having a word with you.”

She thought about what the bull meant to the ranch.

“Would the whole place go downhill if we lost him?”

“No, but we’d have to keep on breeding with the bull we used before.”

“We still have one?” she asked in surprise.

“Yup. He’s pastured out in the hills right now. We didn’t want him and Ol’ Grumps to get wind of each other. But we didn’t want to get rid of him either. Not until we’re sure the new king of the hill will prove himself.”

Rachel’s face burned, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “Then we must go on protecting him.”

Jack nodded. “If it works out the way Randolph planned, we’ll have a better quality of beef to sell within two years. Our stock will bring higher prices at the stockyards. If he hadn’t of gotten sick, Mr. Hill would have been one of the leading ranchers in the area. A lot of the others were eager to see how he made out with this venture. I’m sure a lot of the ranchmen would follow his lead if things went well.”

Rachel was sure the area cattlemen wouldn’t accept a woman rancher the way they had Randolph Hill. “They probably won’t care, now that I’ll be in charge.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Jack replied. “They still want to know how it turns out. And this ranch will still be a leader in the cross-breeding experiment.”

“I certainly will need your expertise, Jack.” She turned away from the fence. “This is something I just can’t do myself. I doubt I’ll ever be confident handling cattle.”

“You just keep at it. Your riding’s improved a whole lot, and Rusty said you did a good job helping bring in that bunch the other day. By this time next year, you’ll be as good as any cowpuncher.”

“I doubt that,” Rachel said. This time next year she thought. Would she really still be here then? She would have to write to Rhoda and ask her to pack up the rest of her personal belongings at the boardinghouse. And perhaps Rhoda could place an advertisement for her in the newspaper so that she could sell the sewing equipment and supplies she had left in the shop.

They had reached the door, and Jack opened it for her. He followed her inside and walked over to the gun rack. Rachel took off her hat and hung it on a peg near the door.

Jack took two boxes of cartridges from the drawer. “I’ll send Abe around after supper.”

“All right. And thank you, Jack, for everything you’ve done—are doing—for me.”

He nodded and turned away.

Rachel watched him as he strolled toward the barn. Abe wasn’t a better shot than Jack, she was sure of that. Maybe he thought Abe was a better teacher than he was.

Funny, she was beginning to feel strong. Independent. Capable. All the things she strove for in Boston but never quite reached. So why wasn’t she happy? Had she underestimated the importance of companionship—no, of love? If she was going to be honest, she’d better call it what it was. She cared deeply for Jack, but she wasn’t sure if what she felt was love. He had been extremely kind and helpful, but he hadn’t indicated that he had stronger feelings for her than that. None of the men had showed any of the resentment she’d feared, which was a big relief, but it wasn’t enough.

She now believed Jack would be as loyal to her as he had been to Randolph Hill. But would he ever consider her wife material? Maybe that idea was totally improper in Jack’s world. Or maybe he was just shy. Or maybe he didn’t think she was anything special. Just a city girl who would never really be at home out here. One who happened to be the new boss.

Maybe she was foolish to think of selling her business in Boston and moving here. If her heart was going to ache with disappointment, what was the point? Not for the first time, she thought Randolph might have been kinder to forget about her and leave his ranch to Jack.

She had barely put away her clean dishes after supper when a knock came at the kitchen door. She opened it to find Abe standing on the step.

“Hi, Abe. I guess it’s time for my next shooting lesson.”

“That’s right, ma’am, if you’re ready.”

She sighed. “I guess so. No more signs of Mr. Hill today?”

“None at all. Jack’s thinking of riding into town tomorrow to see if the lawyer’s heard anything.”

“Only seven more days,” she said.

“That’s right. And we don’t figure he’ll wait until the last minute to do whatever he’s going to do.”

She nodded grimly. “Let me get my jacket.”

“Fine. I’ve got everything else we need.”

The next morning Jack came to the house while she was still brewing her coffee and scrounging up breakfast. Rachel was surprised, since he hadn’t mentioned his plans for the day to her.

“Hello, Jack. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, ma’am. Just wanted to let you know I’m going into town. Abe and Rusty and Chris will be on watch here, and Goldie will take Joe with him to ride the fence on the western boundary line.”

“All right.”

“I thought I’d ask around and see if I can come up with a couple more hands to help us out.”

“That sounds good,” Rachel said. “Hire whatever men you think we need, Jack.”

He nodded. “We’ll need ’em next week for sure. Thought I’d stop at McClure’s too, and tell him. He thinks we need more men in case Hill comes around again.”

“A show of force?”

“Yeah. That all right with you?”

“So long as they’re good men, Jack. I trust your judgment on that.”

He held her gaze for a moment. “Thank you.”

Rachel’s pulse surged. She’d been thinking for weeks about the ownership of the ranch, but last night one option had solidified in her mind.

“Jack, I want to ask you something.”

“What’s that?”

“You were a very good friend to Mr. Hill—to Randolph. I’ve been thinking that perhaps you’re the one he should have given the ranch to.”

“Oh no, ma’am.” Jack held up a hand in protest.

“Now, hear me out,” Rachel said. “After I sign the papers next week, I can do whatever I want with this property. I thought maybe I’d offer it to you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have the money to buy this place.”

“I could give you a good price.” She watched his face. He turned partly away from her, gazing out toward the corrals. “Jack, you wouldn’t have to pay me right away. We could work out terms. You’re the one who should have this ranch. You can make it into the place Randolph envisioned.”

He pulled in a breath and gave her a half smile. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miss Paxton. Really.”

“Why?”

“What would you do then?”

“Go back to Boston, I suppose.” The plan seemed suddenly colorless and bleak.

“With all respect, ma’am, that wasn’t what Randolph had in mind.”

“He told you what he wanted. You’re the one who knows. I don’t.”

“Yes, ma’am, he told me all that.”

Jack looked into her eyes again, and Rachel’s cheeks warmed. Was he implying that Randolph’s dream was to have her stay on the ranch?

Jack looked over his shoulder, toward where the men were saddling their horses. “Maybe we should discuss this another time.”

“Yes. I’m keeping you from your errand. But think about it, Jack. Please.”

He touched the brim of his hat. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll think on it.”

Rachel’s heart almost melted as she watched him stride toward the barn. She was sure that many, many thoughts flew around in Jack’s head. She wished she could see them.

Did he think she was crazy? Foolish? She already knew he thought she was green as grass—but he hadn’t made fun of her inexperience. Instead, he’d taught her to ride and shoot and keep from getting trampled by cows and a dozen other things she’d never had to know in Boston. But what did he think of her as a person? As a woman?

He came out of the barn leading Brownie and hopped into the saddle. Before heading out for Fort Worth, he looked over at the house and focused on her for a moment. He touched his hat brim. Rachel’s heart pounded. She lifted a hand to wave, and Jack rode out. She sighed and closed the door.