Papa, you can’t do this.” Cait Sullivan swallowed all the disrespectful words that wanted to jump out of her mouth. She’d been trying hard to learn to control her temper, but her papa’s announcement might test every purposeful bone in her body.
“This isn’t something for negotiation, Cait. Jonas is going to be here today. Martha prepared a room for him.” Her father tugged his hat lower on his face, putting the deep wrinkles surrounding his eyes in shadow. His mouth thinned to a slash, a stern warning that she should watch herself. His ire sent strong men running.
Indignation heated her face. A wave of her red hair flattened across her nose. “You can’t hire Jonas Hall.” Cait jutted her chin toward her father. “You can’t do that.”
“You don’t tell me what I can, and can’t, do.” Her father leaned down until their noses were almost touching. “On this ranch, I am in charge. You will work with whoever I hire, or you will do another job. Maybe you should just clean house instead of working with the horses.”
Horror washed through Cait, startling her speechless for a moment. “We have Martha. She does a fine job and doesn’t need me to cook or clean.” She would rather drop dead than do women’s work. She’d rather ride drag in a cattle drive. She’d rather muck stalls. She could see her father understood her unspoken thoughts.
“Caitie.” Her father sighed and pushed his Stetson back on his forehead. The wrinkles above his eyebrows were as deep as the ones around his eyes. White peppered the hank of mahogany hair that flopped from under his brim. “Caitie, you know we need to sell these horses to the cavalry. Their buyer will be here in a couple of months to get what we have ready. He told me he won’t touch any horses trained by a woman.”
He held up one hand, palm out, as if he could hear her objections before she voiced them. “You know I don’t agree with him. You are the best trainer anywhere, bar none. But, I have to sell these horses.” He fell silent as his gaze tracked skyward.
Cait tilted her head back to see the cloudless sky overhead, sun beating down on the dry ranch. The drought had lasted longer than they imagined possible. Dead grass didn’t feed livestock. Their supply of hay was almost gone. The oats, too. Her father had to sell a lot of the cattle and even had to let some of the ranch hands go. Several of their herd were dead from starvation and lack of water.
Her throat tightened. At least they had the sale of horses to help them through this time. Some of their neighbors had nothing and had to sell out. Two weeks ago, when they attended church, she heard the preacher wax on about how God wanted them to love one another and forgive more times than she could count. She didn’t see how anyone could forgive God for allowing the drought, let alone forgive those who caused hurt. Like Jonas.
“You can let me train the horses and then tell the buyer you did it.” Cait hated the desperation straining her voice.
“Cait, you know how I feel about lying.” Her father frowned.
“You wouldn’t have to say you trained them, just let him think what he wants.” She pushed her hair back from her face, hoping her father didn’t notice she’d wiped a tear from the corner of her eye at the same time. The thought of facing Jonas, after what he’d done to her family… she’d prefer to chew locoweed and become crazy like the cattle.
“That’s still dishonest, Caitie. I couldn’t do that and keep my head up in church.” The weight of her father’s hand on her shoulder should have been comforting. Instead, the heft made her shrink inside. She knew if her mother were still alive, she would be horrified at what Cait suggested.
“I know.” She fought to keep from digging her toe in the dirt like a little child caught doing something wrong. “Isn’t there someone else?” Cait swallowed hard. “Someone… trustworthy?”
“Jonas is trustworthy. He’s a fine young man.”
“How can you say that? You know what he did to Keira.” Cait stared agape at her father. How could he forget? How could he forgive?
“Your sister may have cried a lot over that broken engagement, but I figure since she married Stuart a month later, she wasn’t that hurt.” Her father squeezed her shoulder. “You have to let this go, Caitie. Otherwise, you’ll end up with a bitterness inside you won’t want to part with.”
“He doesn’t deserve my forgiveness.” She held herself stiff. What did her father know? He hadn’t been the one who held Keira while she sobbed. Sure, she’d put on a good front when she agreed to marry Stuart, but Cait knew the truth.
Hot wind blew a scatter of dust past them. Cait covered her nose to keep most of the grit out. In the distance, she could see the horses search the pasture for a few particles of graze that hadn’t died off. From the road leading to the ranch buildings, she could hear the creak of an approaching wagon. She refused to turn and look, figuring who this had to be.
“I know you don’t want to do this.” Her father stuck his hands in his pockets, his shoulders bowed as if with the weight of the world. “The thing is, I need you to cooperate. I’m telling you this, Caitie. You either work with Jonas, and be agreeable, or I’ll send you somewhere they’ll teach you to be a lady so you can find yourself a husband.”
She gaped at him. He wouldn’t do that. Would he? He’d often stated how he regretted not sending his girls to finishing school after their mother died. Keira, the oldest, had learned enough from their mother. Cait had resisted every effort to teach her to be a young lady. She preferred to follow her father everywhere, even though she was only seven when her mother passed. At the time, her father didn’t have the heart to say no to the forlorn child. She figured he regretted that decision now.
Jonas slapped the reins against the horse’s rump. The light breeze blew dust up his nose and he sneezed. The wagon creaked and groaned worse than his grandpa getting out of bed in the morning. Up ahead, he could see the track leading to the Sullivan ranch. He thought about stopping to pray, but he’d done that several times already today. He needed to face the ire of Cait Sullivan. For sure, there would be plenty.
As he turned the team into the lane, they picked up their pace as if they knew the end of the journey was close. He’d planned to ride out here on his gelding. Instead, he’d tied his saddle mount to the back and had driven goods from the mercantile out to the ranch. The heavy wagon dragged like the weight of guilt he’d carried for the past two years. It was time to face Cait and ask her forgiveness. If she didn’t put him six feet under first.
Any hope that he might be able to settle in before a confrontation faded when Jonas spotted Cait and her father in the shade beside the barn. Angus Sullivan could be one of the most intimidating men Jonas had ever met, but Cait, at almost a foot shorter and much slighter of build, stood toe to toe with her father. Hands on her hips, strands of red waves lifting on the breeze, she made a magnificent sight. A sight—if his plan worked—he would have close for the rest of his life.
His team must have scented other horses. They tossed their heads and the harness jangled. Cait and her father swiveled to stare at him. Cait’s chin jutted out. He could almost see sparks shooting from her eyes. She must have just been told he would be working with her. Jonas figured Angus waited until time for him to arrive. That way Cait didn’t have the chance to go for the rifle. He smiled and waved. Cait stiffened until she mimicked the overstarched shirt of a city slicker.
“You.” Cait’s lips compressed to a thin line as Jonas pulled the team to a halt.
“Caitie.” Angus’s low growl could barely be heard, but Cait’s chin jerked up. She didn’t take her eyes from Jonas.
“Didn’t expect you to bring a whole wagon.” Angus stepped forward to shake Jonas’s hand as he jumped down.
“Cartman, at the mercantile, heard I was coming out here. He had this delivery for you.” Jonas gestured at the wagon. “Said he’d be by for the wagon tomorrow.”
“What did you order?” Cait sidestepped past Jonas as if she feared coming too close to him.
“Some hardware, groceries, and I had your sister order some new curtains for the house.” Angus peered into the wagon, apparently oblivious to the look of horror on Cait’s face. “You can put them up later today. Jonas can carry them in for you.” With that, Angus winked at Jonas, tipped his hat, and strode away toward the barn. “Caitie, show Jonas where he’ll be bunking.” The words drifted back over his shoulder. Jonas wondered if this had been a planned retreat on the part of Angus. He bit his lip to keep from smiling at the joke Angus played on Cait.
“I want you to know…” Cait ground out the words and then paused as if she couldn’t think of something dreadful enough to put him in his place.
“You don’t want me here.” Jonas held up one hand before remembering the futility of trying to stop Cait Sullivan from doing anything she wanted to do. “Cait, I know you’re angry with me.”
“Angry! Angry?” Crimson flared in her cheeks, throwing the smattering of freckles into relief. “Angry doesn’t begin to describe how I feel about you. You lied to my sister. Left her. Humiliated her. I thought…” She crossed her arms over her chest and averted her face.
“Cait.” Jonas wanted more than anything to reach out to her. To draw her close. To tell her how much he cared for her. He kept still, knowing he had to move with caution. With patience. Somehow he had to make her realize why he’d done what he did—without making her angry at her sister.
She swung back toward him. “Get your things. I’ll show you where to bunk.” She bit her lip, small white teeth stark against the red of her full mouth. “May as well bring the curtains along.” She said curtains as if it were a curse word. Jonas couldn’t hold back the laugh.
Cait whirled to glare at him. “What’s so funny?”
Slipping his gelding’s reins free, Jonas reached into the bed of the wagon and lifted out his belongings. “I think your dad was having some fun with you.” He couldn’t stop the grin as she glared at him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Confusion darted across her face. “Does that mean you were only delivering goods? Are you working at the mercantile?”
He could hear the unspoken question, “Does that mean you aren’t here to work with the horses?” Emotion he couldn’t interpret softened her features.
“No, I’ve been working down at the Bar W but came home to help my pa. Angus came over there to see about hiring me.” Jonas watched her eyes narrow to a green slit.
“So, what did you mean about my papa funning me?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. A strand of red, escaped from her braid, waved in the breeze.
“Maybe you should take a look at the curtains.” Jonas gestured to the wagonload of feed and supplies. He watched as Cait peered into the wagon bed and understanding of her father’s jest set her jaw tight.