Texas Tender (16 page)

“They've already promised to send more for the afternoon,” Will said with a groan. “I'm thinking of inviting all the teenage boys to stop by.”

“We didn't come to add to your troubles,” Idalou said. “In fact, we came to thank you for relieving us of ours, at least temporarily.” Having struggled for so long, her first feeling had been relief, followed by extreme gratitude. But close on its heels she realized that she'd only gained time. She now had a new and greater obligation which she had to repay. It brought all sorts of new uncertainties.

“Why did you pay off the whole loan?” Carl asked. “All you had to do was make the quarterly payment.”

“It seemed pointless to have to go through this again in three months when I could put an end to it altogether.”

“But you haven't put an end to it,” Idalou said. “Now we have to pay you.”

“You'll find the bull.”

“What if we don't?” Carl asked. “I'm starting to think someone's stolen it.”

“Then pay me when you can.” Will paused, apparently turning over a thought in his mind. “Mc-Gloughlin and Sonnenberg have too many cowhands in the saddle for anyone to steal an animal like that and not be seen. Animals don't usually wander far
from their range, so I expect he's holed up in a ravine or wash somewhere with good grass and enough cows to keep him contented. I've known bulls to get so shy of people, they actually hide from them.”

“You seem to know a lot about cows,” Carl said.

“I've lived on a ranch most of my life. I don't know much about anything else.”

“We really do need to talk about how we can repay you,” Idalou said. “It makes me uncomfortable to owe you money. You still haven't told us why you did it.”

“A couple of reasons. I don't like to see anybody forced off their land, especially not when something as simple as finding a bull can fix everything. It didn't seem fair.”

“But it wasn't your worry.”

“As sheriff, I didn't like seeing what was shaping up to be a fight over your land. This way all the pressure is off and everybody can go back to things as they were.”

Idalou knew things would never go back to the way they were. McGloughlin was too determined to have their land. If Mara married Van, Carl would leave Dunmore, and there wouldn't be any reason for her to stay either.

But she didn't want to think that far ahead.

“We still need to talk about it,” Idalou said.

Will seemed to brighten. “Why don't you accompany me on my rounds tonight? We'd have plenty of time to discuss everything that concerns you.”

“Carl should be present when we talk.”

“He could come, too.” Will didn't seem as enthusiastic.

“I'd rather discuss things in a more businesslike environment,” Idalou said. “If you want company, ask Junie Mae to walk with you.”

Idalou was sorry for the words as soon as they
were out of her mouth. Saying something like that was spiteful and jealous. Will looked as if she'd flung something unpleasant in his face.

“If Junie Mae's not feeling up to it, there are lots of other young women who'd be delighted to keep you company,” she added in hopes of making her words sound less rude. Junie Mae hadn't been looking her best recently, but she was still a very beautiful woman.

“I have to be careful not to foster unfounded expectations,” Will said. “I can walk with you because everybody knows you dislike me.”

“I don't dislike you,” Idalou blurted out. “I've never disliked you.”

Will didn't look convinced. “Let's just say that no one would believe you're likely to become infatuated with me.”

“I wouldn't allow myself to become infatuated with anyone,” she declared.

“That's a wise decision,” Will said. “Now, I'd better get busy and do something to earn my pay. I doubt hiding from a bunch of women qualifies.”

“I haven't thanked you yet,” Carl said.

“Your sister thanked me enough for both of you.”

“I want to speak for myself,” Carl stated. “I don't know why you decided to pay off the loan, but it was a damned decent thing to do. After the way Idalou and I have been plaguing you, I'm surprised you'd want to have anything to do with us, but I'm glad you did. You've got to let me know if there's ever anything I can do for you.”

“Clear all those women out of my office,” Will said in a joking manner.

“You got it.” Without waiting, Carl turned and opened the door to the office. The sound of voices
poured out like an avalanche, but was cut off when he closed the door behind him.

“How does he intend to get rid of those women?” Will asked Idalou.

“I don't know.” She was feeling like a louse. What was it about this man that made her act so ungraciously? Carl had made her look like an ill-mannered ingrate, even though he was male, and younger to boot! What kind of woman was she turning into? She hadn't always been like this, snapping at anyone who tried to help her or offered a little kindness. She used to be cheerful, friendly, to enjoy being around people. When had she turned into a disgruntled shrew?

When her parents died. When her brother and the ranch both became her responsibility. When it became clear she couldn't keep the bull and the ranch, too. When she became convinced that Jordan was trying to ruin her and no one would listen.

But Will had listened. He'd taken the extraordinary step of paying off the loan. Why couldn't she be nice, say something grateful? Why wasn't she feeling enormously relieved instead more insecure than ever?

“Your brother has grown up,” Will said. “You can stop worrying about him.”

“I'll probably never stop worrying about him.”

“Then don't let it show so much. It makes him feel like you don't have faith in him.”

What made Will think he knew more about Carl than she did?

“I've been a younger brother all my life,” Will said as though reading her thoughts. “Somebody has always been trying to take care of me. They do it because they love me, but they don't know how to stop. One day it'll become too much, and Carl will break away regardless of how much it might hurt you.
You're the only one who can make sure that doesn't have to happen.”

Idalou resented Will's interference in her relationship with her brother yet she realized he was right. In a way, she even resented his paying off the loan—it made her feel a deeper obligation to him—at the same time as she breathed a sigh of relief. She resented his being sheriff, though he'd surprised her at how much everybody in town liked and admired him. She resented that every female in town was falling over herself to impress him, and that he was accepting all the adulation gracefully.

She'd just made a list that would have made any other man a saint in her eyes, and all she could do was feel resentful toward him. What was wrong with her?

She was upset that somehow she felt outside the circle. He didn't treat her with the exaggerated politeness he reserved for other women, or hold her in his arms while she cried, or let her kiss him in thankfulness. He treated her like an equal. That was what she wanted, but she hadn't expected equality to feel so rotten.

The door to Will's office opened and Carl stood in the opening. “They're gone,” he said.

The silence from the room backed up his words.

“How did you get them to leave?” Idalou asked.

“I told them if they didn't leave the sheriff alone when he was working, he'd have to stop coming to their houses for meals.”

Will laughed. “A dose of truth that came better from you than from me.”

“Certainly not from me,” Idalou said. “They'd have been certain I was trying to keep you for myself.”

“Instead of turning me down at every opportunity,” Will said.

Idalou didn't know whether to blush or return a sharp remark.

“Lou doesn't mean to be rude,” Carl said, “but she hasn't stopped being angry at men since Webb threw her over for Junie Mae.”

“Junie Mae is a beautiful woman.” Idalou managed to get the words out despite her embarrassment. Will's laughter startled her.

“You ought to hear what my mother says about the value of looks,” Will said, “especially when she's talking about me. It's character that counts, and I'm sure Webb would soon have realized you have an ample supply of that.”

“More than enough,” Carl said with a sigh that made all of them laugh.

“We'd better be going,” Idalou said, “but we do need to sit down soon and decide how to pay you back.”

“Find that bull,” Will said. “In the meantime, I'll keep on being sheriff. I'm enjoying sticking my nose in other people's business without getting a lecture for it.”

“Why do you always have to be so mean to the sheriff?” Carl asked when he and Idalou were mounted up and riding out of town.

“I wasn't mean.”

“You probably didn't notice, because it's the way you always act with him. And why did you have to tell him to ask Junie Mae to walk with him? Hell, Lou, the man was asking
you
to walk with him. That's the same as saying
I
like you and want to spend some time with you. If you don't like him, fine, but you had no call to mention Junie Mae.”

“You didn't walk in on Junie Mae kissing him,”
Idalou said, too angry at Carl's unjustified charges to keep that piece of information to herself.

He was so shocked he pulled his horse up. “Why was she doing that?”

“I don't know. I didn't stop to ask her.”

“Then you shouldn't jump to conclusions.”

Idalou knew that men stuck together through thick and thin, but she hadn't realized until now that her brother had joined their ranks. “What would
you
have thought if you'd been in my shoes?”

“I don't know, but if he'd asked me to walk with him, I'd assume he did it because he liked me and wanted to get to know more about me. That wouldn't mean he couldn't like somebody else, too.”

“You don't understand. You're not a woman.”

“I'm glad I'm not if it's going to keep you as ill-tempered as a dog with a sore tooth.”

“I'm not ill-tempered—am I?”

Carl shook his head in disbelief. “Lou, half the town warns the other half against having anything to do with you. Not because they don't admire you, not because they don't like you, but because nobody can get along with you. I know you've felt weighed down ever since Dad died, but you don't have to worry about me, and you don't have to worry about the ranch anymore.”

“Yes, I do. If we can't find that bull—”

“We'll give the ranch to the sheriff and do something else.”

“What?”

“I don't know, but the ranch isn't worth what it's doing to you.”

“You love this place. You love being a rancher.”

“I love you even more. I'd give it to Mr. Haskins right now if I thought it would turn you back into the girl you used to be five years ago.”

Five years ago she'd been fifteen, her parents were alive and healthy, and Webb McGloughlin was beginning to show an interest in her. Jordan McGloughlin was friendly, Mara was too young to have become interested in boys. Idalou had had plenty of duties, but the responsibility for the success of the ranch didn't weigh on her shoulders.

Everything had seemed perfect.

Then her father had mortgaged the ranch to buy the bull he was certain would save it, both parents had died of a virulent fever, and she was left to take care of her brother and the ranch. After that, everything seemed to go wrong. Webb jilting her, then dying, McGloughlin poaching her grass and her bull, no one in Dunmore treating her with respect, and the constant struggle to make the payments on the mortgage. Then Carl fell in love with Mara, when everybody knew Jordan intended her to marry Van. Finally, after they'd reached the agonizing decision to sell the bull, the damned animal had disappeared.

She had every right to be ill-tempered. If there ever was a female Job, she was it.

“I'm sorry if I've been sullen, ill-tempered, and argumentative. I didn't mean to be. It's just that everything keeps piling up. Nothing seems to get better.”

“Have you ever asked yourself what
you
want?”

They were riding across a flat stretch of prairie between their ranch and town. Despite the recent rain, the grass was brown and skimpy. No trees blocked the horizon, just flat ground for five miles until they reached their ranch and the section of rolling hills and rich soil that made theirs the best grazing land in the area. Half a dozen grazing cows with calves were scattered over the prairie. They saw an occasional white-tailed deer on their land but rarely on the open prairie. A cowbird walked alongside a cow and her
calf, foraging for weed seeds and grasshoppers and other insects stirred up by the cow's hooves. A meadowlark kept its distance even though it was looking for much the same food.

There were times when this homespun scene would calm her, provide balm to her soul and salve to her scoured nerves. Other times, like now, it struck her as barren and unproductive, sapping the life out of anyone foolish enough to depend upon it for a living. She didn't understand what it was that drove men to want their own land—any land—regardless of the price.

“Yes, and I don't have an answer,” she replied. “But I know what I
don't
want. I don't want to be weighed down by anything that sucks the life out of me or turns me into a shrew no one likes having around. And I don't like being ignored just because I'm a woman.”

Carl chuckled. “Believe me, Lou,
no one
ignores you.”

“You know what I mean,” she responded, irritated. “They listen very politely, pat me on the head, then go right on doing the same thing.”

“Then you ought to make up to the sheriff.” Carl's grin was sly. “Nobody ignores him.”