Read Not the Marrying Kind Online
Authors: Christina Cole
Tags: #historical, #historical romance, #western, #cowboy, #romance novel, #western romance, #steamy romance, #cowboy romance, #mainstream romance
As he turned to ride away, Kat looked him
over again, noting his strong, well-muscled arms, the broad back,
and powerful legs.
Just the sort of man you need
.
Well, not that
she
needed a man, but
the sort of man who could help her run the Rocking P if Pa would
give her a chance. Crazy idea, really, but she couldn’t get it out
of her head.
“Hey, mister, you looking for work?”
He drew back on the reins, looked over his
shoulder and raked her with a slow, steady gaze.
“Might be. What you got to offer?”
“Ranching. Might be looking for a
foreman.”
He grinned. “Well, when you figure out
whether or not you’re looking, let me know.”
Without another word, he wheeled the bay
around and headed toward the distant mountains.
* * * *
The sun had gone down long before Joshua
reached the cabin. Tired, soaking wet from his foray through the
spring-swollen creek, and barely able to stand on his weak leg, he
wanted nothing more than a good night’s sleep in a real bed.
The golden glow of lamplight gleamed through
the bare, uncurtained windows. Cody lived a simple life and that
suited Joshua just fine. He’d grown accustomed to having little,
and he wouldn’t have felt comfortable in a fine house with lavish
furnishings. He’d chosen to come to Colorado to stay with Cody for
exactly that reason.
Possessions weren’t important. What truly
mattered in life was family.
Sad truth of it was, he didn’t have all that
much family left. Some had passed on; others just didn’t want
anything to do with him now, and so be it.
When Cody had offered him a place to stay,
Joshua gladly accepted.
As he led his horse toward the small corral,
he caught a glimpse of his cousin standing at the window. Joshua
tipped his hat and Cody waved to him. A simple gesture, but a
welcome one. He’d come home, at last.
Eager now, he quickly tended to his horse,
then grabbed his walking stick and limped toward the cabin.
When he opened the door, the stench coming
from inside the place nearly knocked him off his feet. At once, his
mood soured. The walking stick fell from his grasp as he gazed in
disbelief at the scene before him.
“Holy hell, man! How do you live like this?”
Covering his mouth and nose, Joshua stepped carefully around the
empty whiskey bottles that lay scattered over the mud-encrusted
floor. Filthy clothes filled every corner, and plates of moldy,
half-eaten food sat on a rough-hewn table in the center of the
room. A thick layer of wood chips and sawdust covered
everything.
Cody Bradford pulled his lanky frame up from
a rickety stool. His dark, heavy-lidded eyes narrowed.
“Glad to see you, too, cousin.”
Joshua had never been one to waste words.
Greetings could come later. “You need to clean this place up.”
“Haven’t got time.”
“You’ve got nothing but time.” He kicked at
a pile of rubbish. “This is disgusting.”
“Doesn’t bother me.” Cody’s thin shoulders
rolled in a half-hearted shrug.
Obviously his cousin hadn’t changed over the
years. With the exception of his woodcarving, Cody Bradford had
never made more than a half-hearted attempt at anything.
“Well, it should bother you. It damned sure
ought to bother you.”
“Get away from there!” Cody picked up a
block of wood and hurled it across the room. A rat scurried through
the clutter, knocking knives and cutting tools from a metal
stand.
Joshua jumped back, appalled at the thought
of spending even one night in the wretched, vermin-infested cabin.
“Think I’ll sleep out in your shed tonight, if that’s all right
with you.” He grabbed his walking stick and turned toward the door.
“It’s probably in better shape.”
“Not really. Haven’t had time to do much
cleaning out there, either.”
Tomorrow he’d head into town, pick up a good
supply of lye soap, alum, and vinegar. He’d get some potash too to
drive away the rats. But for tonight, Joshua would have to make the
best of it. He had a thick, woolen blanket in his gear, and his
saddle would serve as a comfortable pillow for his head. As much as
he’d looked forward to sleeping in a bed, right now, the cool, hard
earth held a much greater appeal.
Leaning on his walking stick, he looked
around once more, slowly surveying the extent of the disaster. His
cousin would do nothing to improve the unhealthy, unsanitary living
conditions, and Joshua didn’t figure he could handle the task on
his own. How in the hell would they ever make the place
livable?
“You know, Cody, what you need is a wife,
somebody to pick up those dirty dishes, carry the rubbish out,
sweep that confounded sawdust up from the floors.”
“A wife?” His cousin hooked his thumbs in
his suspenders, leaned back, and let out a hoot. “Not likely to
find one around here. This is Colorado, remember? There aren’t too
many available women in the territory, you know. Besides, what
woman in her right mind would marry me?” A crazy, chortling sound
came from his throat.
Good old Cody. Hadn’t changed a lick. Still
the same deranged—but talented—lunatic he’d always been.
Joshua scratched at his bearded jaw. “I’m
sure there must be some sweet young thing somewhere in Colorado who
needs a husband.” Even before the words were out, the image of a
long-legged, trouser-clad redhead flickered through Joshua’s weary
brain. A pretty face, indeed, but overall, not the sort of woman
men sought after. Too tall, too flat, all awkward arms and legs
with none of the luscious curves that enticed a man. She most
likely didn’t have too many romantic prospects. He grinned. A gal
like that would be perfect for a fine man like Cody. “Twenty
dollars says I can find you a wife.” He pulled a gold piece from
his pocket, tossed it in the air, and caught it again. “Deal?”
* * * *
The loud crack of an axe blade against wood,
followed quickly by another, brought Joshua out of a restless
sleep. Stiff and sore from both his long journey west and yet
another night spent sleeping under the stars, he groaned and slowly
rolled over.
What the hell was Cody up to now? And why so
early?
“Damn it, can’t a man have a little peace?”
he hollered toward the sound of the chopping. His cousin didn’t
hear. A good thing, really, since Joshua quickly reconsidered the
situation and decided getting an early start on the day might be
beneficial. Between picking up supplies in Sunset and scrubbing the
grease, grime, and wood chips from Cody’s cabin, he’d need every
minute of the day. The sooner he got started, the sooner he’d have
the place habitable.
He set off for the water trough at the far
end of the little corral, planning to soak his head, clear the
cobwebs from his musty brain, and wash up enough to make himself
presentable. Before he reached the enclosure, a rider crested the
hill, approaching at a steady, determined pace.
Joshua glanced first toward his cousin. Cody
stood in a grove of bristlecone pine, his hands wrapped around the
handle of a menacing woodaxe.
Whack! Whack!
Huge logs
splintered into blocks beneath the blade as it came down again and
again. Lost in a world of zealous devotion to his craft, the man
wouldn’t have noticed a herd of buffalo stampeding toward him.
Stepping out in front of the rider, Joshua
waved but didn’t call out a welcome. Better to find out first who
was calling and why. He had a hunch it might have something to do
with him and his arrival in the territory.
“Morning,” said the man on horseback. The
tin star on his vest confirmed Joshua’s suspicions.
Never one to strike up casual conversations
or form easy friendships, Joshua offered only a curt nod in return.
He’d let the man speak his piece first and find out just what had
brought the law calling so soon.
“Heard reports yesterday of a stranger
riding through these parts, headed out here toward the Bradford
place.” His sharp-eyed gaze swept across the cabin and the
surrounding area, coming to rest on Cody and his axe.
“We’re cousins. I’ve come to spend a little
time with him.”
The lawman, still seated in the saddle,
stared down at Josh, scrutinizing him. Finally he gave what might
best be called a snort of approval.
“Folks around here are the vigilant sort.
Everyone keeps an eye out for trouble. I’d be right obliged if
you’d not cause any. And just so you know, we all tend to keep a
fairly close watch over your cousin, make sure nothing bad happens
to him, you know.”
Joshua let out a slow breath and nodded
again. “Yeah, I know.” His cousin had always been a bit odd. Over
the years he’d apparently gotten even more peculiar. “And, no. No
trouble.” He stepped forward and held out a hand. “Name is Barron.
Joshua Barron.”
“Wes Randall.” Instead of a handshake, he
tipped the brim of his hat then tapped the star on his chest. “Got
this badge from the Sunset Protective Committee. They appointed me
to be in charge.”
“Sunset Protective Committee?” Joshua rolled
the name around in his head. It didn’t take long to get the man’s
drift.
Vigilantes
. Men who took it upon
themselves to impose law and order where little, if any existed.
Good men, honest, hard-working ranchers and farmers out to protect
their own. Only problem was sometimes they got a little carried
away. Sometimes, too, if they took a dislike to a man, they could
make his life miserable, make him wish he’d never been born…or, at
the very least, that he’d never set foot in the territory.
He wondered how much Wes Randall had heard
about him and how much the man believed. Had he heard the truth? Or
only the lies that had destroyed Joshua’s life?
Whack! Whack!
From beneath the
bristlecone pines, the chopping continued, each heavy stroke of the
axe echoing through the morning air. Down came the blade again,
followed by a shriek of pain.
“Oh, my God!”
Both men reacted at once. Still on
horseback, Wes Randall reached Cody first while Joshua limped
toward the grove, horrified by the blood pouring from his cousin’s
leg. Damned fool must have sliced an artery.
“Get him a doctor,” he called out. Not that
it would do any good. Cody would be dead before Joshua could even
reach him.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Randall knelt
down beside the unconscious man. He quickly checked Cody’s vitals.
“He missed the artery. Must have cut into a vein.”
“It’s bad enough.” Already Joshua had ripped
off his shirt for a tourniquet. Unless he got pressure on the wound
immediately, Cody would bleed out within minutes. “He needs a
doctor, damn it.”
Together they tied the tourniquet around the
ugly gash. Joshua gripped it with every ounce of strength he
possessed.
“I’m on my way for help right now.” Randall
clambered to his feet, swung up into the saddle, and galloped
away.
“Hang on, damn you!” Unable to look at his
cousin’s ghastly white pallor, Joshua closed his eyes. He’d never
been much of a praying man, but he was on his knees now. Would a
few words of supplication be enough to save a life?
Although it seemed like hours, less than
twenty minutes passed before a wagon came jostling over the rutted
pathway, its huge wooden wheels wet from crossing the creek.
Keeping a tight hold on the tourniquet with one hand, Joshua lifted
the other to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. Cody’s chest
rose and fell in shallow breaths, and the bleeding had diminished
as his blood pressure dropped. Thank God help had arrived.
He squinted toward the wagon, certain his
eyes must be playing tricks.
“Well, I’ll be go to hell.”
A petite woman with a somber, no-nonsense
expression—he guessed her age to be mid-forties—climbed from the
buckboard. She lifted out a small, black leather bag. “Heard you
had a medical emergency here.” Without waiting for a response, she
headed for Cody’s outstretched form. “I’ll take over now,” she
informed Joshua.
“You’re a doctor?” Reluctant to let go of
the twisted shirt, he gripped it tighter.
“You need to let go of that now.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Exasperation flashed across her clear blue
eyes. He’d seen eyes like that before, Joshua thought, but he
couldn’t quite remember where.
“Why, yes, I’m a doctor.” She reached for
the tourniquet. “At least, I’m the closest thing to a doctor that
Sunset has.”
“But, he’s a man, ma’am.”
“Yes, so I see.”
“And I don’t think it would be proper—”
“I’m a married woman as well as a mother.
It’s not like I’ve never seen a man’s private parts before.”
A burning heat crept up his neck at this
woman’s unexpected candor. But it didn’t make it right. His cousin
had no voice, couldn’t speak up for himself. Joshua had to do it
for him.
“I don’t think Cody would be too comfortable
with the idea of some strange woman looking him over, ma’am.”
She threw back her shoulders, stuck out her
chest, and lifted her chin. Joshua could practically hear her teeth
grinding.
“Let me explain to you, sir, what your
options are, and as you have a man ailing, I would suggest you not
delay too long in making a decision. Your first option is to move
out of my way and let me tend to the fellow before his condition
deteriorates any further.”
“And the second option?”
She bristled. “You could go into town and
summon Dr. Kellerman—”
“So, there is a physician in Sunset. I
thought you said there wasn’t a doctor.”
“As I was saying,” she continued after
taking a deep breath, “you could summon Dr. Kellerman, and if
you’re lucky, he’ll be sober enough to understand what you’re
talking about, but the odds are against it. To the best of my
knowledge, Abner Kellerman hasn’t been sober since sometime in
1857. That’s when his wife died, you know.”