of trouble. I thought I told you to keep an eye on her.”
“It’s a full-time job, son, and I’m not as fast as I used to be. That’s why I cal ed you for backup.”
Randolph Harrison stood slowly and faced the sheriff. The two lawmen turned, looking as if they’d forgotten him
sitting at the table.
Jacob made the introductions, leaving out how he and Rand had met.
After Harrison and the sheriff shook hands, Jacob suggested Parker join them. As the men took their seats, the
old man’s wise eyes caught Jacob’s for a second, then darted to Harrison and back.
Jacob read the message plainly. They’d both noticed the stranger’s alarm. Randolph Harrison was edgy, near
panic. He’d wiped his hands on his legs before taking Parker’s hand. He kept his eyes low, never rising past the
star on Parker’s vest. He mumbled his name almost as if he hoped the old man wouldn’t catch it. Both Jacob and
the sheriff had learned from experience that men nervous around a badge usual y had a reason to be.
“Welcome to Clarendon, Mr. Harrison,” Parker said casually. “Where do you hail from?”
“Back East,” Rand answered without looking at either man.
“Nice country back East,” Parker answered. “I know a lot of folks who come from the same place.”
Jacob smiled, knowing in this part of the county it would be impolite to pry into a man’s past. Half the folks
settling Texas were running from something. Debts, family, the law.
But the seasoned sheriff was like an expert fisherman. It might take him some time, but he’d eventual y reel in
the man’s secret. One of the reasons he kept a lid on trouble in town was his ability to spot it riding in.
Jacob stood, knowing Harrison might say more without an audience. “I’m heading over to the barbershop to see
if baths are stil a quarter.” He scratched his beard. “I might even get a shave.” Jacob looked at Number Twelve.
“I’ll meet you here in a few hours, and we’ll head to Nell’s for dinner. If she won’t talk to me without you
around, then you’re coming with me.”
Harrison didn’t comment. He’d pul ed a notebook from his vest pocket and seemed intent on writing something
down.
Smith jerked as if their conversation had just registered. “Nell’s having company for dinner?” He stood and
nodded toward Rand. “I’l visit with you later, Mr. Harrison. I need to get over to Nell’s and talk myself into an
invitation. If she’s having company, Marla’s probably cooking something special, and she’ll need to know to fix
for one more.” He grinned. “That cook is an angel; she always sends a plate of homemade rolls home with me
for breakfast.”
The sheriff frowned. “I almost forgot I’ve got official business with her today. Got a telegram from Sheriff Riley
over in Cedar Point. Claims there’s a man on his way here who says she promised to marry him in writing.”
Jacob shook his head slowly.
“My feeling exactly. Our Nel might want a husband fast, but she’s not fool enough to promise anything before
she can weigh the ful measure of a man with her own eyes.”
“When we left, that bossy nurse was putting her down for a nap. So you might wait an hour or so. What do you
plan to do if this mail-order husband shows up before then?” Jacob raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll meet this fellow, Walter Farrow’s his name according to Riley, when he steps off the train. If he thinks he’s
going to bully our Nell, he’s got another think coming.” The old sheriff accepted a drink from the bartender,
downed it in one quick swal ow, and added, “See you at Nel ’s for supper.”
Rand Harrison didn’t look up from his notebook, but he nodded once in agreement.
Jacob frowned from Harrison to the sheriff. He didn’t like the idea of having to talk Nell into marrying him in
front of a crowd. She was hardheaded enough on a calm day when they had time and privacy. Now he’d have to
do his talking in front of not only that mothering nurse but Harrison and the sheriff. With his luck, Marla, Nell’s
cook, and little Gypsy, would join them. Who knows, maybe Nel ’s fiancé by mail would show up.
He stormed toward the barbershop, thinking he might as well rent the town hall and hold a meeting. Nel
probably wouldn’t mind at al . She’d lived her whole life with the town watching and disapproving of her. She
wouldn’t care if they all watched. None of them had been willing to take a hooker’s child in to raise when Nell’s
mother died, but they’d complained about Fat Alice offering her shelter. “No place for a child to grow up,”
everyone had said. Then, when Fat Alice had left her considerable property to Nell, who was little more than a
girl, the town had talked for weeks. Jacob didn’t want to guess what they’d said last month when she advertised
from Amarillo to Dallas for a husband.
Not that any of that mattered, he thought as he stomped into the barbershop, waking Jessie who napped in his
barber chair. Once he married Nell, no one would dare show her anything but respect. He’d see to it.
“Afternoon, Dalton.” Jessie climbed from his chair. “I sure hope you’re here for a bath. I smelled you coming
when you were half a block away.” The barber walked around Jacob as though he were a horse to buy. “And
we’d better get some of that hair off your face and shoulders or folks will be yelling that a bear’s in town
dressed up like a ranger.” He giggled at his own joke, making a rattling sound like he was stuttering his way
through a hiccup.
Jacob growled, knowing the barber would repeat his words to everyone who stopped by the shop. “I didn’t
come here to talk, Jessie. I just need a bath and a shave.” He lifted his saddlebags. “I brought clean clothes, but
I’d like to leave the ones I’m wearing if you’ve still got someone who does laundry.”
Jessie took no offense at the ranger’s bad mood. “I’ll put a pot on to boil while you haul water from the well out
back. By the time you fill the tank, I’ll have enough hot water for you to wash the first layer or two off. But it’ll
take a day or two to get your clothes washed.”
“Fair enough.” Jacob dropped his bags and grabbed the buckets.
Thirty minutes later, Jacob sat in a steaming tub. He dropped his head beneath the water, then rose up and
shook water across the storage room Jessie called his bath chamber. Jacob had too much on his mind to relax,
so he took to scrubbing.
Nell filled his thoughts. What worried him more than he wanted to admit was that he feared Nell may have
given up on her idea to run her own ranches. Before her accident, she thought she could do anything a man
could do. Now she seemed to have decided that she needed one.
He could see why she’d like someone like Harrison. He was thin, but not a weasel like Jacob thought might
answer her ad. He acted and talked like a gentleman and seemed honest with Nel about what he wanted and
was wil ing to give to the partnership. Jacob would have been forced to strangle any man who had shown up
with flowers and candy.
He smiled, guessing how Nell would have reacted to such a fool.
Jacob always sized up his opponent. Randolph Harrison had a straightforward look about him except for the few
moments he’d squirmed in the sheriff ’s presence. He didn’t want love any more than Nell claimed to. He would
be a hard worker, Jacob guessed. Probably better with figures and management than Jacob could ever be. Nel
didn’t need a fast gun or a good tracker now. She didn’t need him.
Jacob dumped the last bucket of hot water over his head. Apparently, Nel didn’t want him running her ranches
any more than the idea appealed to him.
“But,” Jacob mumbled aloud, “Nel deserves more than a man with granite in his gaze.” Hel , Jacob thought, she
deserved more than even he could offer. She wanted respectability. She wanted marriage. He could give her
that as well as Harrison.
Jacob hurried. He scrubbed his body raw, dressed in the only clean clothes he owned, then rushed Jessie
through both a haircut and shave. In less than two hours he was back in the saloon ready to pick up Harrison and
go back to Nell’s. They might be far too early for supper, but that would give him time to talk to Nell. If she was
still asleep, he’d wait.
He walked through the bar twice, even checking under the tables in case Number Twelve had taken to drink
after he left. But Harrison was nowhere to be found.
The barmaid walked past him, smiling at the change in his appearance. “Evening, Ranger.” She flirted, brushing
his clean jawline with the tips of her fingers. “Want some company now? You sure do smel good.” She rubbed
the tip of her nose along his throat. “Dalton, I swear you’re one fine-looking man when you take a notion to be.
We could go upstairs for a spell. Just spend some time together, with or without clothes.”
“No, thanks.” Jacob removed his hat and acted as if they were just passing time. “You wouldn’t happen to know
if the man I was having a drink with earlier went upstairs?” Harrison hadn’t looked all that interested in finding
entertainment for the afternoon, but maybe he’d changed his mind after Jacob left. The girls here considered
themselves barmaids by profession, but a few didn’t mind earning extra money if the opportunity presented
itself.
She shook her head. “He left a few minutes after you did. I was standing by the door and noticed he rode out
toward Fat Alice’s place.” She giggled. “Hope he knows that house isn’t in business anymore.”
Jacob shoved his hat on. “I’l remind him right before I kill him.”
NELL TRIED TO PAY ATTENTION, BUT RANDOLPH HARRISON had been talking for an hour, and al the numbers
were starting to melt together in her brain. At first, she’d been impressed at how he researched and planned out
details of organizing her ranches. The idea of having a team of men who moved from place to place when
needed to help a smal stationary group at each property made sense. The hands assigned to just one ranch
would learn that place and how to run the most cattle on that land, while being able to pul in help when
needed. She also liked the idea of not having to be constantly hiring and laying off cowhands. When times were
slow, the team could move from ranch to ranch doing needed repairs or building and improving each property.
The way Mr. Harrison had it figured, when the extra men were not needed, he’d have a list of things that could
be tackled at any time, like adding extra wells and building new fences and corrals. When they were needed,
they’d move in fast, in a large enough number to solve any problem before it got out of control.
“More tea?” Gypsy asked for the fourth time. She appeared so pitiful trying to stand stil beside the tea set. The
old woman preferred wearing her housedress to clean, but when company was expected, Nell encouraged her
to wear a proper dress. She never stopped pul ing at the material, as though the wool slowly smothered her. She
reminded Nell of one of those tiny bugs that skims across the top of a lake, never landing, never pausing for
more than a moment.
Standing still and being polite were as foreign to Gypsy as a corset. She liked cleaning and kept the house
spotless, but she usual y regarded dust and visitors with the same contempt. Nel thought the old hooker looked
worried that her young employer might be overdoing, as Mary Ruth always cal ed it when Nel stayed out of bed
a moment longer than the nurse thought proper. At least Gypsy knew better than to mother Nell.
Unlike Marla the cook, Gypsy had come with the house when Nell inherited. Fat Alice tried to find all her girls
respectable jobs, or husbands, but Gypsy didn’t seem to belong anywhere but here. So she’d stayed when Fat
Alice closed the business and even after the old madam passed away.
“Sure you don’t want more, Mr. Harrison? I could go warm it up again.” Gypsy lifted the pot and prepared to
dart to the kitchen.
Harrison shook his head. Gypsy turned to Nel .
“No, thank you,” Nell said, as if it were the first time she’d asked.
In truth, Nel welcomed the distraction of Gypsy’s questions. She hoped Mr. Harrison would change the subject.
She wanted to say that she cared about the ranches, though at the moment didn’t want to think about them in
quite so much detail. If she married him, Nell would have to limit their meetings to an hour once a month or
he’d surely bore her to death.
He wasn’t bad to look at, in a slender, pale kind of way. His face had good lines, and he held himself straight and
tall. He’d wear a uniform well. She could almost see him in one as he stood waiting to continue.
She nodded politely, and the lecture continued on what breed of cattle would be best for this part of the
country. One thing to his credit, he’d done his homework. He knew cattle, even if he didn’t look like he’d ever
worked a herd from the back of a horse.
When he paused, Nell asked, “Tell me a little about yourself, Mr. Harrison. Were you ever in the army?”
He looked down, avoiding her gaze for the first time. “No,” he said softly. “I’m afraid I have very little to tell. I
have no family and no place I call home. I’ve worked hard at every job I’ve had and traveled enough in my life to
want to settle down. You’ll have no unwanted relatives or past debts fall at your door if we marry.” He raised his
eyes to meet her stare. “I promise you.”
She had no doubt he meant every word, but she realized he had told her little. Maybe he didn’t like talking
about himself or discussing such things with an audience. Nel smiled at Gypsy. The housekeeper dusted the