Chapter 9

Colt took a glimpse at Anne’s saddle to see if she’d brought two canteens of water. The day promised to be another scorcher. Once assured she’d be fine, he swung up onto the saddle.

“This will be a hot one,” he said. “Sure you don’t want me to take care of business in town? You could stay here and tend to Clancy.”

Anne shook her head. “I’d feel better if I could talk to the woman who knows herbs. Could be we’re doing all we can for Clancy, but I’m hoping for a remedy to bring down his temperature and stop the infection.” She turned in the saddle to view Rosita. “It’ll be late when we get home. The horses will need to rest a bit in this heat before pushing them the fifteen miles back.”

“We’ll have a good day.” Rosita wrapped her arm around Nancy’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Expect a berry pie when you return.”

Anne adjusted her hat beneath her chin and nodded at Colt.

He waved at the girls and Rosita, but Nancy threw him a kiss and giggled. That little gal sure had his heart—just like her mama. Sammie Jo, on the other hand, looked like she’d just as soon blow a hole through him.

They’d ridden for about thirty minutes at an easy gallop when they slowed the horses in the heat. Colt considered some kind of conversation, but his tongue wouldn’t form the words. This was hard. Real hard. He wanted to tell her about makin’ a decision for the Lord, but the words stayed in his head.

“Do you see storm clouds gathering, or is it my imagination?” Anne finally asked, relieving Colt of the worry of talking.

He peered to the north and studied them. “Sure looks like it, and we sorely need the rain.”

“I don’t mind getting wet.”

“Me either. But I hate riding out in the open during a thunderstorm.”

She laughed—that musical ring that sounded like a sweet song. “Why, Colt Wilson, have I found something you’re afraid of?”

“If you’re referring to thunder and lightning, then you’re right. I don’t relish the thought of getting fried up like a slab of bacon.”

She laughed again. “So what are you going to do when we’re caught in the middle of it?”

“Pray.” The moment the word slipped from his mouth, Colt thought better of it.

She started, and a wide smile spread over her face. “When did this happen?”

He sensed his face heat up. “Last night, thinkin’ on Clancy.”

“Does he know?”

“Naw. Not sure if a man’s supposed to tell folks about these things. Like I was bragging or trying to look religious.”

“Colt, I’m so happy for you.”

She sounded like she was going to cry, which made Colt more nervous than before.

“Huh, thanks.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Did it happen after we talked?”

What had he gotten himself into? “It happened later, and I do feel right uncomfortable. I have to get used to this a bit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I am proud of you, and Clancy will be so happy.” She took a glance at him. “All right. We’ll talk about something else.”

Good. He’d rather get caught with bolts of lightning jabbing on all sides of him than talk about finding God in a smelly bunkhouse.

“Are you going to tell me who you and Clancy suspect? It’s making me crazy not knowing which one of my men is a thief and a murderer.”

He wished she’d run out of words. “No. Can’t do it.”

“Even if it makes me so mad I can’t see straight?”

“Yep.”

Long moments followed, but he refused to give in.

“How about your thoughts on bringing in some fine quarter-horse stock?” she asked.

For the next several minutes, Colt told her everything he knew about horses, anything to keep her off the subject of God and the trouble at the Double L.

“Nancy sure likes you,” Anne said.

He chuckled. “She asked me to marry her when she grows up.”

“Oh, my. What did you tell her?”

“That we’d wait and see how she felt then.”

“She said to me, ‘Mama, Mr. Colt is right handsome; don’t you think so?’ ”

He sensed her peering at him.

“Colt, you’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.” But he felt plum silly, even if it was little Nancy making the claim. Truth be known, he wondered if Anne thought he was pleasing to look at. Not that it mattered.

“Colt.” She spoke quietly as if something might be wrong.

“Yeah.”

“Have you been avoiding me lately? I mean, I said some ugly things to you last night, but for days now you’ve acted like I offended you.”

He scratched his jaw. “Well, some of the others were saying a few things that weren’t, uh, proper.”

“Like what? You and me together?”

Had she not heard the jeering? “Yes, ma’am.”

“I appreciate your gentlemanly ways, but I wish you’d have said something to me about it instead of acting like I’d made you mad.”

“You’re my boss.”

“I’m still a woman.”

Colt whipped his attention her way. Tears were streaming down her face. What had he done wrong? “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I can’t figure out why I’m crying anyway.”

What was he supposed to say now? “Do you need my handkerchief? It’s a clean one.”

She shook her head and pulled out one from her shirt pocket. “Sorry. This is new to me.”

What’s new to her? Him finding God? What the others were sayin’? “I don’t understand. What the ranch hands were saying made you cry?”

She glanced at him and blinked. In the next instant, she spurred her horse and raced away.

For sure Anne had him confused. He hesitated and hurried to catch up. The remaining miles into town were spent in silence, and that made him real glad.

The longer Anne and Colt spent in town, the darker it grew until thunder cracked and lightning flashed in the distance, but Anne sensed it was coming closer. Within minutes a torrent of rain pelted the dusty streets.

“Sure glad I already have the herbs for Clancy.” Anne pulled her slicker over her head as they stood under the overhang of the general store. “I’m ready for it to rain like this for three days, but I want to get back to the ranch, tend to Clancy, and make sure my girls are fine.”

Thunder crashed down around them, and lightning streaked across an angry sky. They were dry, but water poured off the roof in buckets.

“We’re staying right here until the storm lets up,” Colt said. “It’s moving toward the ranch, and we can be right behind it.”

“I hope the girls’ outing didn’t get ruined.”

“I thought you were keeping them close to home.”

His voice held a twinge of alarm. She appreciated this man; he reminded her of Clancy in many ways. Since Colt had found the Lord, he’d taken on more of those traits. Her heart was betraying her, and if she didn’t mask her feelings better, he’d know for sure.

“Don’t worry. Rosita took the girls berry-picking, and I sent Thatcher Lee along to keep them safe. Rosita won’t hesitate to tell Sammie Jo to keep her distance from him.”

Colt punched his fist into his palm.

“What’s wrong? They’re probably within shouting distance of the Double L.”

“Who’d hear? Clancy? The rest of ’em took feed to the cattle.”

“Why are you so upset?” Suddenly realization hit her hard. Anne’s stomach churned. “It’s Thatcher Lee,” she whispered.

“We only suspect him.”

“But you have to be wrong. He’s always been a hard worker, and he and Clancy tried to stop Hank and Thomas from running off with my cattle. And…and what about when you and Clancy were shot? He rode in and saved you.” By now, she fought the sobs choking her throat.

Another clap of thunder shook the roof above them as if a bad omen had taken root in her fears.

“I don’t have proof.” He lingered on every word as if trying to convince himself.

“Tell me why you think it’s Thatcher Lee.”

“Here’s what Clancy and I think. Thatcher Lee, Hank, and Thomas were good friends. They often rode off together, but no one ever questioned where. Clancy said the three were hired on at the same time.”

She nodded and clenched her fists.

“Clancy was the one who discovered what Hank and Thomas were doing. Thatcher Lee simply rode up and stopped it. When we were shot, he stayed behind. He told me he’d never shot anyone before, and so we thought it best for him to stay clear of danger. When we were fired on, one man was doing the shooting. When Thatcher Lee joined us, the shooting stopped. And the bullet taken out of my leg was from a revolver like the one he carries.” Colt paused. “Do you really think he’s interested in Sammie Jo, or do you think he has something else on his mind?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Anne. I should have put that a little more delicately.”

Anne gasped. “My babies. Thatcher Lee has my babies.”

An ear-piercing burst of thunder drove her into Colt’s arms. He held her tight, and she stayed there.

“I’ll ride back and make sure everything is all right,” he said.

“I’m going, too.”

“I could be wrong about Thatcher Lee. That’s why I didn’t want to accuse him.”

Anne swallowed hard. “But everything you told me is true. I wish I knew why or what he wanted. I’ll blow a hole clean through his skull if he’s hurt one of my girls.” I wonder how the good Lord feels about that.

“Do you know where he came from?”

“He never said; neither did Hank or Thomas. They needed jobs, and I needed hands.”

“Doesn’t matter. He wants something you’ve got, and he’s not afraid—”

“To kill for it.” Anne despised her own words. Nancy, Sammie Jo. Her beloved Rosita.

Colt pushed her at arm’s length. “I’m heading to the ranch.”

She nodded. “Let’s go.” Hesitation stopped her. “Colt, you don’t have to do this. You could be hurt if you’re right about Thatcher Lee.”

“I care too much for those girls—and you—to stand by and do nothing.”

Anne sank her teeth into her lower lip. Later she’d ponder over his words, but not now.

Amid nature’s fury, the two rode toward the ranch with the understanding that man’s fury was often harder to reckon with.

Soaked clear through to their clothes with water dripping from their slickers, Anne and Colt raced toward the ranch. In what seemed like the worst storm he’d seen in a long time, Colt finally saw the outline of the house and barns. How he prayed those girls were safe inside with Rosita. His spurs dug into the mare’s sides.

He jumped from his horse and hurried up the back porch steps before Anne could dismount. He threw open the door and called for Rosita, then Sammie Jo and Nancy. Nothing but the sound of the rain on the roof met his ears.

“Are they here?” Anne asked from the doorway.

Colt turned slowly. “No. Where do they normally pick berries?”

“Near the edge of the woods on the eastern side.”

“I’ll start there. They could be taking shelter from the storm.” He refused to comment on the rain washing away their tracks or what Thatcher Lee might do to the womenfolk. “We need to check on Clancy. He might know something.”

Clancy rested on his bunk. All he could do was apologize for not keeping a better watch on the house. “Get on out of here. You’re wasting time.” He patted his shoulder. “I’m doing fine. Now go.”

In the next moment, they were on their horses again and riding toward the eastern section of the ranch. If Thatcher Lee did have them—and he meant harm—Colt knew he’d forget the faith he’d garnered the night before.

No, I won’t. For once I’m listening to God.

But Colt feared the worst. He’d been among desperate men too long, and he didn’t trust Thatcher Lee at all.