To claim his heir...

...he must marry his enemy!

Gabe Callaway is outraged when feisty Janette Parker lands on his doorstep with her orphaned niece—though he soon realizes little Ruby is heir to his ranch! If Janette wants money, he’ll pay her off to keep the little girl in her rightful place. But all Janette wants is Ruby... Will Gabe do whatever it takes to claim his heir—even marry Janette?

A lover of fairy tales and cowboy boots, LAURI ROBINSON can’t imagine a better profession than penning happily-ever-after stories about men—and women—who pull on a pair of boots before riding off into the sunset...or kick them off for other reasons. Lauri and her husband raised three sons in their rural Minnesota home, and are now getting their just rewards by spoiling their grandchildren. Visit: laurirobinson.blogspot.com, Facebook.com/lauri.robinson1 or Twitter.com/lauriR.

Also by Lauri Robinson

A Fortune for the Outlaw’s Daughter

Saving Marina

Western Spring Weddings

Her Cheyenne Warrior

Unwrapping the Rancher’s Secret

The Cowboy’s Orphan Bride

Mail-Order Brides of Oak Grove

Winning the Mail-Order Bride

Western Christmas Brides

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Married to Claim the Rancher’s Heir

Lauri Robinson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07343-1

MARRIED TO CLAIM THE RANCHER’S HEIR

© 2018 Lauri Robinson

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To Louie and Carolyn,

who celebrate their happy-ever-after every day.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Extract

Chapter One

“Do you know what it’s like to be hungry, Mr. Callaway?”

Who did this woman think she was? Her snippy attitude couldn’t make up for the fact she was shorter than corn grows. And who has purple eyes? Gabe stared a bit harder, just to make sure they were indeed purple, before he answered, “Yes, I’ve been hungry.”

“But all you have to do is walk into your kitchen and find something to eat, don’t you?” She was waving her hands around like a bird learning to fly. “That wasn’t so for Ruby. When she was hungry, there was nothing to satisfy that hunger.”

She’d pointed to the little dark-haired girl sitting on the couch, staring at him with big eyes. The little girl’s eyes weren’t purple. They were blue. As pale blue as an afternoon sky. He had a hard time looking away from the little girl. The thought of her going hungry didn’t sit well inside him. Even if it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t known she existed until a short time ago.

“You could have prevented that if you weren’t so stubborn. She is your niece,” the woman said.

Stubborn? This woman hadn’t even begun to see his stubborn side. Furthermore, Ruby could have been his daughter. He’d tried to not let his mind go down that route since the two of them, Ruby and Miss Janette Parker, as she’d curtly introduced herself—emphasis on the miss—had walked into his house, but the idea kept inching its way forward every time he glanced at the little girl. She resembled Anna. He could also see Max in her features. His brother and once best friend. Until the woman he’d been considering marrying—Anna—and his brother—Max—ran away together.

“She’s your niece, too, Miss Parker,” he pointed out.

“Which is precisely why I’m here,” she snapped.

Gabe would have crossed his arms, but they were already crossed, so he shifted his stance slightly and waited. He knew why she was here but would let her admit it. Let her ask for money. Then he’d deny her request. First, however, he’d see Ruby got something to eat. “Rosalie,” he shouted, knowing full well his housekeeper was listening outside the parlor doorway.

“I’m right here.” Rosalie’s skirts rustled as she rounded the doorway. “There’s no need to shout.”

There was no need for her to be standing outside the room either. “Take Ruby into the kitchen and get her something to eat.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that she’s hungry right now,” Miss Janette Parker said. “I was referring to—”

“You’d rather let her sit here and listen to how hungry she’s been in the past?” he asked pointedly.

Maybe her eyes weren’t purple but black. As black as coal. About as cold, too. She looked nothing like her sister. Anna had been taller and meatier, not big, but she wouldn’t have been blown over by a brisk wind like this woman. Anna’s hair had been lighter, too. Piled high on her head and partially covered with a flowered hat, this woman’s hair was as black as her glare. Turning about, he quietly asked, “Ruby, would you like something to eat and a glass of milk?”

The child cast a wary glance between her aunt and him.

When the woman didn’t say a word, he instructed, “Tell her it’s all right.”

After casting him a cold glare, she knelt down in front of Ruby and spoke too quietly for him to hear and then helped Ruby off the couch before she stood. Walking the child to the doorway, she thanked Rosalie before relinquishing Ruby to his housekeeper.

He didn’t say a word or alter the stance he’d taken near the fireplace shortly after Rosalie had answered the door and led Janette and Ruby into his parlor. He didn’t take his eyes off her either. Not when she spun around, smoothed the material of her green dress over her flat stomach or lifted her chin into the air as she marched back over to stand in front of the couch again. The pinch of her lips said she was miffed by his silence.

He truly didn’t care. This woman was so full of herself she should be as round as a bloated badger lying in the hot sun.

“As you are aware, Mr. Callaway, Max and Anna are no longer with us?”

“Max and Anna haven’t been with me in a very long time,” he replied.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

He knew what she meant, but he’d meant what he’d said, too. He’d accepted the loss of his would-be bride and his brother five years ago. The news of their deaths last month hadn’t altered him one way or the other.

She poked a finger inside the frilly lace collar that encircled her neck as if it irritated her. It probably did. It sure as heck would him. She must like lace, though. Ruby’s dress was covered with the frilly white stuff, too. As she continued to scratch her neck, he hoped the lace wasn’t irritating Ruby as much as it seemed to be her.

“I am prepared to take on the full responsibility of raising Ruby,” she said.

“How old is she?”

“Ruby?”

“Yes, Ruby.” Who else would he be referring to? “Are there others?”

She sighed heavily. “No, Ruby was an only child. She will be four in a few months.”

“How many months?”

“Four. She’ll turn four on October 3.”

“They didn’t waste any time in starting a family, did they?” The thought shot out of his mouth before he could stop it. Come January, it will have been five years since Max and Anna left. He wasn’t purposefully counting. The month and year they’d left had permanently branded itself in his mind. For several reasons.

“I am not here to discuss when they started a family, nor how they met and fell in love, Mr. Callaway.”

He wasn’t here to discuss that either. Nor should he be concerned about how she was rubbing the side of her neck raw. Ignoring that, he asked, “Why are you here, Miss Parker?”

“Because—Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She rubbed both sides of her neck vigorously before picking up the larger of the two traveling bags on the floor. She set the bag on the couch, opened it and pulled out an envelope. “This is why.”

He took the envelope and opened it while she went back to scratching her neck. “You should do something about that lace.”

She gave him a sneer. “I don’t need your advice on anything, Mr. Callaway.”

He shrugged, not really caring one way or the other, but if it was him, he’d have already ripped off something that irritating. His thoughts shifted as he unfolded the papers. Last Will and Testament of Maxwell T. Callaway.

Flipping to the second page, he scanned the contents. He shouldn’t be, but he had to admit that he was surprised, both at the decree and the inkling of remorse bubbling inside him. It had been easy to say he didn’t care, that he’d considered Max gone from his life for five years, but this made it real. Too real.

“Anna also had a will.”

Gabe didn’t respond as he continued to read. The message he’d received almost a month ago stating both Max and Anna had died hadn’t provided a lot of information. Just that they’d died shortly before it had been discovered that the water source the town had been using for drinking water had become tainted. That happens with shallow wells. It had been unfortunate that so many in the small town—ironically first named Sweetwater, but more recently Mobeetie, Texas—had perished. The letter had stated the name of the town, but he’d already known that’s where Max and Anna had ended up. The letter had also named a person he could contact to inquire about Max’s and Anna’s personal possessions. There hadn’t been anything he’d planned on inquiring about. Of course, he hadn’t known about Ruby then. The letter was still in his desk drawer, but there was no need to read it again. There hadn’t been any mention of Ruby.

“Why was Ruby hungry?” he asked.

“Because the entire town had been quarantined. No food supplies could be shipped in. She was staying with a neighbor woman who had taken in several other children whose parents had perished.” After a short bout of silence, she said, “Mrs. Potter is a kind person. She simply didn’t have the supplies to feed so many. I left home as soon as I’d received word but had to travel most of the way by stage.”

He nodded without looking up. After reading all the way to the bottom of the last page, noting it was duly signed and witnessed two years ago, he folded the pages and tucked them back in the envelope.

“Anna’s will say relatively the same thing, except it leaves everything to me,” she said.

He glanced her way. She was still going at her neck, both sides now, making it bright red. Her face was scrunched up and her lips pursed, which was an improvement over the glares and snootiness she’d portrayed earlier. Maybe. He didn’t care enough one way or the other to come to a conclusion on her looks. “It appears Max didn’t like you either.”

“Excuse me?”

He normally didn’t take an instant dislike to someone, but she’d made it easy. Max probably thought the same thing. They’d often shared thoughts. Other things, too, but sharing his bride-to-be should have been off-limits, even to his brother. Max should have known that. Most likely had, but that hadn’t stopped him. Tapping the envelope on the wide plank mantel of the stone fireplace, Gabe rerouted his thoughts. “Who died first?”

She might have frowned. She was so sour faced and busy scratching her neck it was hard to tell.

“It’s my understanding that Anna did. The day before Max. Why?”

“Because,” he said, holding up the envelope, “this says Anna inherits everything if she’s still alive upon Max’s death. I’m assuming Anna’s says the same.”

She nodded.

“So, then, legally, upon her death, Max would have inherited all of Anna’s holdings, and therefore, upon his death, according to this will, I would inherit everything. His and hers.”

The fingers at the sides of neck stalled as she stared at him, purple eyes wide and mouth open.

He almost broke a grin. “Didn’t think of that, did you?”

* * *

Janette hadn’t been speechless in years. Years and years. She’d been close when she’d walked into the house and seen Gabe Callaway. He looked nothing like Max. The similarities of their hair, dark brown, not quite black, were where the resemblances ended. Gabe was taller and broader than Max had been, and his eyes were grayish green, like the sky turns right before a big storm. Unlike his brother’s round and cheerful face, Gabe’s was so expressionless his sharp features could have been chiseled out of stone.

“I’m assuming you hadn’t thought of that.”

She let the air seep out of her lungs while trying to come up with a response. All she’d thought of the past few weeks was Ruby. Rightfully so. Ultimately, she settled for “Considering they died within hours of each other—”

“If a man has the right lawyer, it won’t matter how far apart they died.”

Anger flared inside her, almost as hot as the burning on her neck. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Callaway?”

“No. Just stating a fact.”

The all-consuming itching on her neck wouldn’t cease and was making rational thinking of any kind impossible. She wouldn’t be capable of carrying on a conversation until discovering the cause and taking care of it. Folding both hands around her neck, trying to smother the burning, she asked, “Do you have a mirror? I have to see what’s irritating my neck.”

“There’s one in the washroom off the kitchen.”

She waited for him to gesture a direction. Even a general one. Rosalie, the housekeeper, had taken Ruby to the left, but in a house this size, she could wander to the left for some time and not find a washroom or kitchen. She hadn’t expected anything like this. The ranch itself was like its own town. Except it didn’t have stage service. She and Ruby had been dropped off on the crossroad miles south of the ranch. Luckily one of his hired hands had come along and given them a ride. That’s probably why her neck was itching. The wind must have blown some straw or hay inside her collar. Or it just could be the buildup of sand and dirt from riding in the stage so long. A bath would be heavenly, but right now a damp cloth would suffice.

He let out a flustered-sounding sigh. “This way.”

“Thank you,” she said, not meaning it. Well, she did mean it but didn’t want to be thankful for anything about him. He’d been rude and obstinate since she and Ruby had walked through the door. Why Anna had ever agreed to visit his ranch was beyond understanding, except that Anna had been keen on going west, on seeing new things, meeting new people. She’d done it, too. Just as she’d said she would.

Janette held her breath at the pang that stabbed her heart, knowing the rest of Anna’s dreams had all been cut short. As she had the past few weeks, she forced herself to think of Ruby and how wonderful it would be to take care of her. Love her. Just as Anna had wanted.

Silently, Gabe led her through the foyer that hosted the large beveled glass front door and then down a long wallpapered hallway. A few of the doors along the way were open, but she didn’t glance one way or the other. Her neck was on fire, and the burning was moving upward, into her ears and chin. Even her cheeks were starting to tingle.

He pushed open a door and pointed across the room. “Over there.”

Spying the room he’d indicated on the far side of the kitchen, she hurried but stopped at the table where Ruby sat. She already cherished her niece, had since the moment she’d been born. Kneeling down, Janette gestured toward a plate of cookies. “Did you have a cookie?”

Ruby nodded and grinned. “Two.”

Her heart skipped a beat every time she saw that smile and those miniature pearl-white teeth. “Good. You aren’t scared, are you?”

Ruby shook her head.

“Wonderful. There’s no need to be.” Patting the child’s knee, she said, “I’ll be right back.” She’d been telling Ruby there was no need to be scared since arriving in Texas and finding her at Mrs. Potter’s house. Telling herself, too. There was nothing to be afraid of. Absolutely nothing. Not even Gabe Callaway.

The kitchen was as big and as finely furnished as the rest of the house. So was the washroom. Besides a large bathing tub, it held a washing station complete with a porcelain washbasin, a rack holding clean towels and several other essentials, including a large mirror hanging on the wall.

A gasp escaped at the sight of her reflection, and she jolted forward, staring harder while unbuttoning her collar. Not only was her neck red, it was covered with blotches of white. The redness and swollen blotches spread beyond her neck. Upward, covering the bottom halves of her cheeks, her chin and... She leaned closer.

“What on earth?”

Her earlobes were twice the size they should be.

She unpinned her hat and set it aside. Using the dipper, she filled the basin and soaked a small towel. Wringing it out, she pressed the cloth to her neck. The cool dampness was heavenly, but it didn’t last. In fact, it seemed to increase the burning.

It had to help. Had to. She couldn’t walk around looking like this.

She dipped the cloth in the water, wrung it out and pressed it to her neck a second time.

Once again the relief was short-lived, and a touch of panic raced over her as she moved the cloth around her neck, pressing it against each section.

“Here’s your bag.”

She turned at the thud of her bag landing on a chair just inside the door.

Gabe stood in the doorway, frowning. “You might want to get rid of that lace.”

“I’ve worn this dress many times.” She had. It was one of her favorites. The fitted waist-length jacket was the reason, as well as the yards of delicate lace that encircled the collar and trimmed the hem. Pulling the cloth away in order to dip it in the water again, she stated, “The lace has never bothered me before.”

The room had seemed large, until he stepped into it. Her heart drummed against her breastbone, and she took a step back as he came closer.

“Hold still, I just want to look at that.”

Considering his size and harsh attitude, his touch was gentle as he used one finger and thumb to grasp her chin. He tilted her head one way, then the other and then upward while using his other hand to pull aside the lace collar of her dress as he examined her neck. His expression softened as his examination continued, which made her gulp at how concerned he appeared to be.

“I’ve never—”

“How’d you get here again?” he interrupted.

“I told you. We took a stagecoach from—”

“Once the stage dropped you off.”

“One of your hired hands picked us up.” Telling herself not to think about him, his closeness, his touch, she kept her eyes averted as he continued to examine her neck. The ceiling was high and painted white, as were the walls. It was a fine house. But it wasn’t holding her attention. He was pushing at her chin again, making her twist her neck one way and then the other.

“I probably wasn’t listening real close,” he said. “Which hired hand?”

She should remember the man’s name, but at the moment it eluded her. “I don’t know. Why?”

“What was he driving?”

“A wagon full of hay,” she answered, tugging her collar back in place when he let it loose.

He released her chin and stepped back. “You ever have poison ivy before?”

She let out the breath that had gotten stuck in her lungs. “Poi—No, never.”

“You do now.”

“That’s impossible.” She hurried back to the mirror and examined her neck more thoroughly. It was as red as before, worse maybe, as were the raised white blotches.

“Do you know what it looks like?”

“No,” she admitted while dipping the cloth in the water again, “but I wasn’t near any plants.” Pressing the cool cloth against her neck, she continued, “We were on the stage for nearly a week.”

“It grows wild around here, especially down by Beaver Creek. That’s where Dusty was cutting hay today,” he said.

That’s right. Dusty. Dusty Martin had been the man driving the wagon. “I didn’t touch the hay,” she said. “I sat on the seat with Ruby on my lap.”

“Don’t need to touch it.” He pointed toward the tub. “You need to get out of that dress and take a bath. Scrub with soap and water. Rosalie will bring you some baking soda and vinegar.”

An odd tingling started in her lips, and she tested the numbing sensation by nibbling on the bottom one before asking, “What for?”

“To put on your neck. The itching won’t stop until you do. And from the looks of your face, you best hurry.” He turned about and left the room, addressing the housekeeper as he walked over the threshold. “Check Ruby for any signs of poison ivy.”

“Already did,” the housekeeper said. “She looks fine.”

Janette turned back to the mirror and gasped. Oh, dear heavens! Her lips were swollen twice their size, and so were her earlobes. “No. No. This can’t be.” They hadn’t been that way a moment ago. She pinched her lips together and flinched at how fat and numb they felt. After dipping the cloth in the water again, she wrung it out and pressed it to her lips. This was unbelievable. Poison ivy. She’d heard of it but had never had it. Couldn’t even remember if she’d known someone who had.

Still holding the cloth against her lips, she pinched an earlobe with her other hand. Though the mirror showed her action, she couldn’t feel it. Her lobes were numb.

Numb.

“Go ahead and get undressed,” Rosalie said, walking into the room. She wasn’t elderly, but older and plump with a good mix of gray and brown hair and wrinkles that gave her cheery face a permanent smile. Dumping a kettle full of steaming water into the big tub, she said, “I have more water heating.”

The itching was worse now, perhaps because she knew the cause. Janette put down the cloth and then sat down on the chair to remove her shoes. “Thank you,” she said, as Rosalie turned about.

“Everything you need is right over there, on the shelf beside the tub. Put your clothes in that basket. They’ll need to be washed right away.”

Not knowing much about poison ivy, but glad her lips still worked while being fatter than carrots, Janette asked, “Is it contagious?”

“Only to those who are allergic to it,” Rosalie said.

“You checked Ruby?” Janette pulled off her stockings. “She’s not itching?” The child had already been through so much; she certainly didn’t need this. Mentioning the itching made her neck start burning again. Or maybe it had been all along and the swelling of her lips had stolen her attention for a few minutes.

“Yes, I checked her, and no, she’s not itching, but she’ll have a bath as soon as you’re done, just to be sure,” Rosalie said, walking back toward the doorway. “Stop scratching at it. You’re making it worse.” She shook her head. “That’s poison ivy all right. You must be really sensitive to it. Some people don’t break out for a day or two.” As she pulled the door shut, Rosalie said, “You’ll need to wash your hair, too.”

Janette’s mind wasn’t on her hair. They wouldn’t still be here in a day or two. Of all things. Poison ivy. Why did this have to happen? She already had enough to deal with, namely Gabe Callaway. She’d considered taking Ruby directly to Kansas City, and probably should have but couldn’t. Once they got home, leaving again would be too difficult. Mrs. Hanks had said customers were stopping by daily in the last telegram she’d sent, a reply to the one Janette had sent from Mobeetie, stating she and Ruby would be leaving Texas as soon as possible.

She’d sent another telegram to Mrs. Hanks during one of the stagecoach stops, stating they were on their way but making a brief stop in Kansas at the Triple C. She’d already been gone longer than she’d anticipated and did worry about Thelma being all alone.

Janette huffed out a sigh as she tossed her stockings into the basket. It just couldn’t be helped. She’d brought Ruby to the ranch, to meet her uncle Gabe, just as Anna and Max had wanted. Anna had blamed herself for the rift between Gabe and Max and hoped that someday they would find a way to settle things. Every letter she’d written had made mention of how much Max missed Gabe and how badly he wanted Gabe to meet Ruby. In return letters, Janette had assured that in time, the brothers would make amends. Anna’s responses were always the same. That she hoped so, but that Gabe was stubborn and may never understand how she and Max fell in love with each other so quickly.

Janette let out another sigh as she started to unbutton her jacket. She now understood just how stubborn Gabe was, and how staunch. The closest thing to a smile she’d seen him make was when he’d asked Ruby if she wanted a cookie.

Still, stubborn or not, Anna and Max should have been honest about their love for one another and not run away knowing Gabe expected Anna to marry him.

That could make a man be unwilling to forgive, but it had been five years.

Anna had claimed both she and Max agreed they shouldn’t have run off like they had and were sorrowful for the rift they’d caused but held steadfast that not only had their love been first and foremost on their minds, Gabe would never have listened to what they had to say.

They may have been right. He certainly hadn’t been willing to listen to anything she’d had to say. He’d interrupted her so many times her mind had felt as if it was filled with grasshoppers going in all directions at once. It hadn’t been until she’d pointed out that Ruby had been hungry that he’d paused long enough for her to collect her thoughts.

Gabe certainly was different from Max. She’d traveled to Texas to be with Anna during Ruby’s birth. Max had been very welcoming and grateful that she’d come—so very unlike his brother’s welcome a short time ago.

Her heart constricted. It saddened her all over again, knowing Anna and Max were gone. There wasn’t anything that she could do about it, and could only hope that someday Gabe might appreciate the fact that she’d given him the chance to meet his niece. It was what his brother had wanted. What her sister had wanted. And they had truly been in love with each other. She’d seen that when she made that trip to Texas. Seeing Max and Anna together, so proud and happy about the birth of Ruby, had made her realize something else. Father had never really loved Mother—or them. Not in a way a man should love his family. Max had barely let Anna out of his sight, whereas her father had never been home.

“You aren’t undressed yet?” Rosalie asked, opening the door.

Forced to concentrate on the facts at hand, Janette jumped to her feet and shrugged out of her jacket. “You’ll keep an eye on Ruby for me?”

“Of course, just get undressed and get in this tub. You have to wash the oil off your skin before you spread it from tip to tail.” Rosalie dumped two buckets of water into the tub. “I’ll be in with more hot water in a minute, and you better be undressed.”

Chapter Two

Gabe found Dusty Martin at the hayshed, forking the last remnants of hay out of the wagon and on top of the growing pile. Poison ivy didn’t bother the animals, but it was a nuisance to people who were sensitive to it. Luckily, that had never been him, but Max had broken out from it more times than he could count.

A dark and ugly pain shot across Gabe’s chest and settled in his stomach. The same spot a similar pain had laid down roots five years ago. Over time, that pain had made itself invisible, shrank down to nothing but a nagging lump every once in a while.

Until today.

“Couple more days and we’ll be done with that field,” Dusty said, taking his hat off to wipe aside the sweat dripping into his eyes.

Gabe nodded. Most of the hands, including Dusty, had been around the Triple C for years and knew what needed to be done and when, without a word of direction.

Replacing his tattered hat over his crop of graying curls, Dusty said, “We’ll head up to the north fields after that.” He gestured past the barns and up the slight hill, where the house sat. “You met your company?”

Gabe nodded again. “Yes.”

“She said the little girl is Max’s daughter.”

The ranch was too close-knit to keep any secrets. “That she is,” Gabe replied.

“Didn’t know he had a daughter.”

“I didn’t either.” Gabe wasn’t certain what he’d do about that either. He may have pointed out to Janette that he should be the one to inherit all of Max’s possessions, but he didn’t want a single one. Not a single one.

“Walter must have seen us haying, knew they could catch a ride to the ranch,” Dusty said.

Walter Thorsten had been driving the stage that crossed the southern part of the ranch for years, and on occasion had delivered people to the house, but it was several miles out of the way. “May have,” Gabe answered. “Or she may have said they’d walk.”

“In this heat?” Dusty asked, shaking his head. “Walter wouldn’t have advised that.”

Gabe shrugged. “She may have insisted. From what I’ve seen, she’s a mite pigheaded.”

“Well, she was mighty glad to accept a ride from me,” Dusty said, knowing better than to argue. “How long they staying?”

Gabe shrugged again. “Don’t know. Overnight for sure.”

“Your father must be smiling today,” Dusty said. “Knowing there’s a new generation of Callaways on the Triple C. That was his only regret.”

Despite the heat, a shiver had the hairs on Gabe’s arms standing up. Dusty was right. Ruby was the next generation of Callaways. Whether he wanted to inherit anything or not, he had. And the Triple C is where Ruby belonged.

“Well, I better head back out.” Dusty walked around the wagon. “Looks like Jake’s coming up the road with another wagonload. Suspect they’ll be ready to load me up again as soon as I arrive. Having two mowers keeps everyone busy.”

Gabe considered mentioning the poison ivy, but there was no reason to. The hands knew to cut around it whenever possible, and none of them had ever been affected by the plant one way or the other.

No one had broken out from poison ivy since Max left. Until now.

“You need more men out there?” Gabe asked.

“No.” Dusty wrapped the reins around his hands. “Just stating a fact.”

“Good enough, then,” Gabe said as Dusty drove off. The other wagon was still a distance away, no more than a cloud of dust on the road. Huffing out a breath, Gabe turned to glance toward the house as his mind went back to his company. So this was the sister. The one Anna had talked about. There had been plenty of time for him to think about Anna over the years. She’d been young and impulsive and...lively. So full of life he’d stumbled over his own feet the first time he’d heard her laugh. That had never happened before or since. Nor would it ever happen again.

Anna had been pretty, too, and appealing. A circle of men had gathered around her in the passenger car. Men Gabe didn’t think a girl as young and innocent as she’d appeared to be should be associating with. That’s why he’d stepped in, and later, she’d thanked him for that.

Still gazing up at the house, Gabe let out another sigh. Marriage, as well as the idea of having a wife and family, hadn’t appealed to him for a long time. Still didn’t, but now, thanks to Max, the reason he might have to eventually marry was no longer relevant. Because of Ruby there was now another generation of Callaways to continue on the Triple C.

His father had started the Callaway Cattle Company when Kansas had been a violent battleground. On the east border, the fighting was over Kansas being a free or slave state; on the west, the battles were caused by the removal of Indian tribes. Always his own man, his father hadn’t entered any of the battles. Instead, he started a cattle company that fed the army, the abolitionists and vigilantes and the proslavery and anti-Indian government heads who traveled the state, urging citizens to side with them. Long before the cattle drives brought herds to Kansas to ship eastward, Triple C beef had been feeding folks in Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, even the Missourians who had hated them so badly. Triple C beef still did and would for decades to come.

It had taken hard work to make the Triple C into a profitable ranch, a lot of that work had been his, and it would take just as much to keep it that way. It was nice, though, to know he didn’t need to worry about producing future generations. Max had taken care of that. If Max had been around, he might have thanked him. Maybe even thanked him for running off with Anna.

Marrying and producing an heir had weighed heavily on his shoulders for a time. Put there by his father on his deathbed. That had been when he’d gone to Wichita. On the outside the trip had been to meet with eastern slaughterhouses, but on the inside he’d set his mind upon finding a bride, knowing his father had wanted that as much as he’d wanted the new contracts. Wichita had been full of women, there had been a few he’d considered as possible options, but none of them had made him ready to pounce. Until the train ride home, when he’d met Anna.

She’d been young and vibrant, but it hadn’t been until she’d said that she was on her way to Denver to start a new life that he’d become more interested. She’d claimed she’d always wanted to go west, to see the frontier that everyone held in such high regard. When he’d told her about the ranch, her eyes had twinkled with excitement and she’d begged for him to tell her more. He had, and he’d also started to wonder if she just might be the one woman who could make getting married worth the troubles and headaches of having a wife.

When the train had stopped in Hays, she’d sent a wire to Denver, stating her arrival would be delayed. Bringing her back to the ranch had shocked some people, just as he’d known it would.

A sickening bolt stabbed him dead center, and, needing to rid himself of thoughts that could haunt him if he’d let them, Gabe took off toward the barn. There was plenty of work to be done. Always was. Work that made him forget. Just as it had for the past five years.

He’d been at the house when Janette and Ruby had arrived because he’d been responding to correspondence concerning the purchase of cattle from a buyer in Denver. The letter was now written, ready to be delivered to the next westbound train, and that meant he needed to cull the cattle that would be driven to the train station next week.

Work, what needed to be done, is what he focused on every day. Today was no different. Once he had a horse saddled, he rode north, to where half a dozen hands were already separating the young stock.

* * *

After Janette had scrubbed herself with the strong-smelling soap, Rosalie had entered the room and dumped water over her head until the tub was about to overflow. Then the woman covered Janette’s neck in baking soda and made her sit in the cooling water for a full five minutes. That part wasn’t so bad. It was what came next that had almost made her jump out of the tub. The vinegar Rosalie used to rinse away the baking soda had smarted so badly tears had formed in Janette’s eyes.

However, by the time all the snarls had been brushed out of her hair, the initial stinging had eased, and her neck felt near normal. It didn’t look normal, still covered in a blotchy red rash, but the swelling in her lips and earlobes had gone down considerably.

Thank heavens. The rash was enough to contend with.

Not knowing if any stray strands of hay might have entered her traveling bag, Rosalie insisted Janette put on a borrowed dress. The older woman was about the same height, but much rounder and bustier. Janette couldn’t remember wearing something so ill fitting. Probably because she never had. She’d inherited her seamstress abilities from her mother, who had always made sure both of her daughters were well dressed. Luckily, Rosalie had a sewing kit, so with little more than a few stitches, Janette had the dress looking much more presentable, not to mention wearable.

Rosalie also insisted that Janette not touch Ruby, stating some of the oils from the poison ivy could be on Ruby’s clothes. Janette made herself useful by hauling buckets of water into the washroom from the cistern pump in the kitchen and from the four kettles on the stove. While Rosalie scrubbed Ruby, Janette cut apart a cotton gown Rosalie had given her in order to stitch it into a simple dress for Ruby to wear while their clothes were washed and dried.

“Thank you for being so accommodating,” Janette said while sitting in the chair by the washroom door. “Both Ruby and I appreciate it.”

“A little bit of excitement is just what is needed around here.” Rosalie grimaced slightly as she squeezed the water out of the ends of Ruby’s hair with both hands. “Not that I’d wish poison ivy on anyone.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Janette answered, telling herself her neck was not starting to itch again. Was not. There was no way she’d tolerate another vinegar dousing.

“No one’s had poison ivy around here since Max left,” Rosalie said.

“Max. My dada, Max,” Ruby said, her blue eyes as bright as her freshly scrubbed face.

“Yes, your daddy was Max,” Rosalie said, patting Ruby’s cheeks.

“Mama, Dada went to heaven,” Ruby said.

Janette had to close her eyes at the ache that entered her heart. Mrs. Potter had explained Max’s and Anna’s deaths to Ruby before Janette had arrived in Texas, and Ruby could make it sound like they’d be coming back any day now. Withholding the desire to cross the room and hug the child, Janette opened her eyes in time to meet Rosalie’s gaze, which said the older woman had the same desire.

“Is this heaven?” Ruby said.

Janette held her breath, wondering how to answer.

Rosalie chuckled. “Some claim it is. Especially your uncle Gabe. I remember when your daddy was your size.” While laying a towel on the floor, she continued, “And I gave him and your uncle Gabe baths, just like I am you. Now, come here, you little pumpkin, you’re as clean as a boiled egg.”

As Ruby giggled, Rosalie lifted her out of the tub, bundled her up in a towel and then carried her across the room and set her on a small bench.

“I’ll brush your hair while your auntie finishes stitching up a dress for you to wear,” Rosalie said. “Is that all right?”

Ruby nodded as she answered, “Yes.”

“I used to brush your daddy’s hair,” Rosalie said. “When he’d let me. I sure have missed him.”

Janette tried to focus on her stitches, but the sadness in Rosalie’s voice made it difficult. The way Anna and Max had run away wasn’t her fault, yet Janette wanted to apologize for it.

As if she knew that, Rosalie shook her head. “Do you like apple dumplings?” she asked Ruby.

Frowning, Ruby cast a look her way, one Janette had learned to read over the past couple of weeks.

“I don’t think she knows what apple dumplings are,” Janette said. “But I bet she would like them.”

“Then we will make some, as soon as we get all of your clothes washed,” Rosalie said.

“I can wash the clothes,” Janette said. “I’m sure the water—”

“No,” Rosalie interrupted. “If you’re as finicky about those weeds as Max was, you don’t want to come in contact with anything that was even close to poison ivy.”

Janette bit the thread in two and then flipped the gown around to hem it. “I thought you said it’s not contagious.”

“It’s not contagious from person to person,” Rosalie explained. “But once a person breaks out from it, they are more susceptible to it happening again.” After a final smoothing stroke on Ruby’s hair, she set the brush aside. “I’ll wash the clothes and then make apple dumplings. They’re your uncle Gabe’s favorite.”

The gurgle in Janette’s stomach said the apple dumplings didn’t sound nearly as good as they once had. “How long does the rash last?” Janette asked, still refusing to give in to the itching that was starting up again.

“Oh, three to five days,” Rosalie said. “If you keep putting vinegar on it. Vinegar dries it up. Otherwise it could linger for weeks.”

“I’ll put some more on shortly,” Janette said. The sting from the vinegar didn’t seem that bad in comparison with dealing with a rash for weeks.

Rosalie grinned as she walked over to the tub and pulled the cork out of the bottom. She then started putting the room back in order.

“I didn’t expect such modern conveniences,” Janette said. Anna had mentioned the Triple C, but not in detail. So had Max. Then again, when they had mentioned the ranch, it was in connection to Gabe, who they both swore was on the ornery side. Janette hadn’t believed them, not completely.

Then, that is.

“Every time Gabe travels to a city, he comes back with some newfangled idea or another,” Rosalie said. “I’m glad he does. The water is piped out from beneath the washroom and runs all the way to the garden. Same with the tub in the kitchen. It sure has saved me from carrying a lot of water.”

Janette couldn’t quite believe he had created the drains just to reduce the amount of work Rosalie did. That didn’t seem like the Gabe she’d met, or the one Max and Anna had talked about.

“It might be a month or more after he’s seen it that he sets into building it,” Rosalie said. “Because he ponders on things until he has it all worked out in his mind before he sets into building it. That’s how Gabe is. Thinks things through, good and solid.” With a laugh, she added, “Max, on the other hand, he’d jump into things like there was a pack of wolves chasing him. Lord, but those two could butt heads. Yet, they were the best of friends.”

Janette had to force a lump out of her throat before she could even bite the thread in two. She didn’t need to learn anything more about Gabe than she already knew. Thankful for her speedy slip stitch, she held the dress up. “Here we are, Ruby. Let’s see if it fits.”

After removing the towel, she slipped the dress over Ruby’s shoulders and tugged the material down until it flowed clear to her tiny ankles. The child was thin. Though Janette had arrived in Texas as soon as possible, Ruby had also been ill, and it had been weeks since the child had eaten as she should. After dealing with the necessary tasks, Janette had packed Ruby up and left Texas as quickly as she’d arrived. At the first stage stop, she purchased all the extra food she could and had encouraged the child to eat regularly while traveling.

“Well, you certainly are swift with a needle, aren’t you?” Rosalie said. “Talented, too. It doesn’t even look like it had been one of my old sleeping gowns.”

“It’s just a simple pinafore,” Janette said, turning Ruby around to make sure the makeshift gown fitted properly. Whether it was a simple shift or a dazzling ball gown, every garment she made filled her with joy. Her mother had said that one must enjoy their work, and Janette believed that wholeheartedly. “But it will do nicely until her clothing dries.” Once again, she was inclined to say, “I’m sorry for the trouble we are putting you through.”

“Trouble?” Rosalie shook her head. “This is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”

The shine in Rosalie’s eyes and the grin on her face made Janette smile. Couldn’t help it. The older woman beamed like a ray of sunshine. Shaking her head, Janette said, “Well, if doctoring poison ivy victims and washing clothes is fun, I don’t think I want to know what you usually do.”

Rosalie’s laughter bounced off the walls as she picked up the basket of clothes. “Oh, darling, it’s not the work. It’s the company that makes it fun. There are plenty of people living on the Triple C, but every one of them is so busy, few enter the house. Some days I’m so lonely, I find myself talking to the flies.” With a nod toward Ruby, she continued, “Follow me. There’s a mama cat with a basketful of rambunctious kittens on the back porch that I think someone is going to love.”

Ruby did love the kittens, and, feeling useless, Janette insisted there had to be something she could do while Rosalie washed their clothes. Finally giving in, Rosalie stated that although she could cook every type of food known to man, she had two left hands when it came to sewing. Therefore, while Ruby played with the kittens and Rosalie washed clothes, Janette sewed on buttons, stitched up rips, patched holes and sewed pockets back on a variety of clothing.

“The hands are gonna be happier than frogs in a pond,” Rosalie said. “Some of those things have been in that basket so long I don’t remember what belongs to whom.”

“I’m happy to do something useful,” Janette replied.

“You’re useful, all right,” Rosalie said. “So useful, I’ll be carrying down a second basket of mending afore I start making those apple dumplings.”

Chapter Three

A familiar and tantalizing smell met Gabe as he entered the house. Apple dumplings. Rosalie hadn’t made them in a while. Regardless of the heavy thoughts that had hung with him all day, a smile touched his lips at how his stomach growled. She’d made them because of their company, but that wouldn’t stop him from eating several. Having already washed up with the others near the bunkhouse, he headed straight for the wide staircase on the far side of the front foyer. In his room, he was surprised to see his favorite tan shirt in his wardrobe. Usually mending of any kind took Rosalie months. It never bothered him, but he had missed this shirt. Most of his others were too tight across the shoulders.

After tucking in the shirt, he combed his hair and left his hat on the dresser. His mother had been a stickler for hats not being worn at the table, and though she’d been gone over ten years, he abided by that rule every evening. Along with several other women, his mother had been in his thoughts today. She’d have been beside herself with happiness to see Ruby. Father, too. They both had talked about generations of Callaways living on the Triple C. Mother had loved the ranch as much as the rest of them and had worked as hard. She’d been the one to teach him how to use a branding iron, along with various other tasks. Back then, Father had been gone a lot. Buying cattle, driving them home. Mother had always stayed home and saw that the work was done just as regularly as Father would have. Anna’s enthusiasm at seeing the ranch had reminded him of his mother. Although she’d been on her way to Denver, Anna had said she didn’t like living in the city, but that her sister did.

Janette was that sister. The one who’d insisted Anna go to Denver. He wasn’t about to let Janette have the chance to insist Ruby do anything. Especially something she wouldn’t want to do. He’d concluded that while sorting out the cattle that would soon be driven to the rail station and shipped west.

Miss Janette Parker was about to see just how stubborn he could be.

A thought had him pausing in his bedroom door, taking a moment to inspect the stitches that secured the pocket to the front of his shirt. He’d accidentally ripped the pocket completely off a while back. The neat and even stitches were not Rosalie’s handiwork. She’d been mending his clothes for years and had never mastered the art of even stitches.

Oh, well. The repair of a shirt, his favorite or not, would not put Miss Janette Parker in a better light. Not in his mind. Or his life.

Gabe made his way through the second floor and down the stairs before he heard the laughter. It made him stop and listen. It had been a long time since the sound of a child’s laugh had echoed off these walls. Some of the walls—actually, most of them—hadn’t been there when he and Max had been small. A lot had changed since those early years, and in the last five years. The building of the railroad had a lot to do with the changes. Ever since that first engine, almost every train that stopped several miles north of the house to take on water also unloaded building materials his father had ordered. For the past six years, he’d been the one ordering the materials and the supplies to keep the Triple C prospering.

Giggles still filtered the air, and once again, he found himself cracking a grin. It was clearly a child’s laughter, a little girl’s. Even small, girls and boys sounded different. A pang shot across his stomach. One that held sorrow. If Max had chosen differently, he’d be here now to hear his daughter’s laugh.

That idea was still mingling in Gabe’s mind when he pushed the kitchen door open. Without thought, he reached down and scooped up the flash of fur trying to escape the room by running between his legs. About the same time he caught the kitten, Ruby skidded to a halt in front of him.

Before, he’d thought she looked like Anna, but at this moment, he saw Max. The streak of freckles across her nose is what did it. He’d teased Max about those spots more than once. Max had gotten back at him with his own teasing. They’d been each other’s greatest opponent as well as best friend.

Kneeling down, he held out the black-and-white kitten. “Is this little rascal trying to escape?”

Ruby nodded.

“Why?”

“Ruby was—”

Gabe let his gaze stop Janette’s explanation. “I think Ruby can answer for herself.” Smiling at the child, he said, “Can’t you, Ruby?”

Nodding, she said, “It ran back in the house.”

“It did?”

“Yes, it did,” Janette said. “Ruby put the others on the porch, but—”

His leveled gaze stopped her again. The child didn’t need her protection, not from him. She, on the other hand, might if she kept interrupting.

“It doesn’t want to stay on the porch with the others?” he asked Ruby.

She shook her head and frowned. “No.”

He could look high and low and never find another little girl as cute as this one. Stroking the kitten’s back, he said, “Maybe because this one likes you.”

Her smile made his heart tumble as it never had before. At that moment she was the spitting image of Max, and the shot of pain that ripped through Gabe told him just how much he missed his brother. Would forever miss him.

His throat grew scratchy and thick as he forced his thoughts to remain on Ruby. “Would you like to keep this one with you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ruby said, clapping her hands together. “Yes. Yes.”

“Then here you are.” Handing her the kitten, he helped her get a solid grasp on the tiny, furry body before he glanced across the room at Rosalie, who was grinning. “Would you find a basket for Ruby’s kitten?”

“Right away,” Rosalie answered. “I have one in the washroom that will work perfectly.”

“That way it won’t run away while you’re eating,” Gabe said to Ruby. “Afterward, you can take it upstairs to your room.”

Ruby nodded while clutching the kitten beneath her chin.

He’d have had to be dead to not feel the glare Janette was giving him as she stood behind Ruby with both hands on her little shoulders. However, he could choose to ignore it.

“Do I smell apple dumplings?” he asked Ruby.

“Yes,” she said, with almost as much enthusiasm as she’d used a moment ago.

“Do you like apple dumplings?”

She shrugged.

“You’ve never had them?” he asked, pretending to be surprised.

Her face grew serious as she shook her head.

She was adorable, this niece of his, and he was going to enjoy having her around. Not just because she reminded him of Max, or because she was the future of the Triple C, but because she was his family, and it felt good to have family again. Completely ignoring the hold Janette had on Ruby, he scooped the child, kitten and all, into his arms and stood. “You’re going to like them,” he said while walking toward the table. “They are very good.”

Rosalie set a basket on the floor, complete with a towel already lining the bottom.

“Let’s put your kitten in the basket while we eat,” Gabe said. “We’ll leave the basket right by your chair, so you can watch the kitten.”

Ruby agreed with a nod. Once the kitten was settled, mainly because he tossed a small chunk of meat into the basket, he set Ruby on a chair and sat in the one beside her.

Janette sat on Ruby’s other side, and if the look on her face was anything to go by, he’d say she wasn’t pleased. That didn’t bother him in the least. Neither did her red cheeks. They could be that way because of the poison ivy. Her neck was still red, but her lips were no longer swollen. Her ears weren’t either. Rather than piling her hair up on her head, she’d left it hanging down her back, in long, shiny black waves.

Gabe pulled his eyes off her.

“Ruby’s been having a heyday with those kittens,” Rosalie said as she set another pot on the table. “That little black-and-white one took to her straight off, didn’t it, Janette?”

Janette seemed a bit taken aback but recovered quickly enough. “Yes. The two of them certainly have been inseparable.”

“Max had a way with animals,” Gabe said. He wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say it aloud or not, but wasn’t disappointed that he’d opened his mouth due to the way Ruby smiled at him.

“Max is my dada.”

“I know,” he answered, smiling at her as brightly as she was smiling at him.

“And you’re my uncle.”

Her words weren’t clearly spoken, but he understood them. So did his heart. “That’s right. I am.”

“Uncle Gabe.”

“That’s me.” He tickled her beneath the chin. “And you are Ruby.” Glancing across the table at Janette, he added, “My niece.”

* * *

Janette had been holding her breath so long she was sure her lips had turned blue. Gabe was not only rude, he was as arrogant as he was tall. And smug. So very smug.

Furthermore, what was he thinking, giving Ruby a kitten? It couldn’t travel with them back to Kansas City, and leaving it would hurt Ruby. Lord knows the child had already lost enough. Gabe should realize that. As her uncle, he should think of her first. Her feelings.

“Are you not hungry?”

Unaware the prayer of thanks had ended, Janette lifted her head and was met by his questioning frown. “I was merely stating my own thanks,” she said, flinching inside at her own lie.

“Well, it must have been a long one, your food is getting cold,” he said.

Janette lifted her fork and ate, though she wasn’t certain she tasted anything. Ruby had, though. She cleaned her plate not once but twice and then ate an entire apple dumpling. However, the last few bites seemed to wear her completely out.

“Oh, look at the little darling,” Rosalie said quietly. “She can barely keep her eyes open. Let’s get her up to bed.”

“Put her in Max’s room,” Gabe said as he stood. “And don’t forget her kitten.”

Janette had risen from her chair, and as she lifted Ruby into her arms, she said, “Perhaps it would be better if it slept on the porch with the rest of the kittens.”

“No, I told her she could take it up to her room,” he said.

“But—”

“I’d like to speak to you in the parlor as soon as Ruby and her kitten are settled in her room,” he said.

Carrying the basket and heading to the stairway in the corner, Rosalie said, “This way, Janette.”

Ruby’s arms were wrapped around Janette’s neck, and though it didn’t hurt, it was uncomfortable only because the skin was so irritated. Gabe’s stance said he expected his orders followed. She would like to defy him, just to make a point, but standing here, arguing, wouldn’t do any of them any good, so without a word, Janette followed Rosalie up the staircase. She would talk with him afterward and thoroughly explain that Ruby could not keep the kitten.

Though the house was large, the layout was fairly simple and Janette no longer worried about not finding her way, but she was still in awe a bit. Kansas City had several large houses, many of her customers lived in rather lavish homes and she often delivered gowns or did fittings in those homes. There were times she’d admired the fine workmanship and furnishings. She didn’t do that here. Mainly because she didn’t want to.

“Here we are,” Rosalie said. “You’ll be in the room right next door. As long as you keep both doors open, you’ll be able to hear Ruby’s every move.”

Taking in the large room as Rosalie led the way to the bed, Janette said, “I’ll sleep in here with Ruby. I wouldn’t want her to wake up and be alone.” The room was furnished with fashionable pieces, not only the bed, but a dressing table, chest of drawers and standing wardrobe. There was also a pair of chairs near the window, separated by a round table.

“Do you want to put her in her nightie?” Rosalie asked while setting the basket on the floor near the bed. “I can go get her things off the line. I’m sure they’re dry.”

“This shift is hardly dirty,” Janette answered. Traveling on the stage from Texas had been a long and uncomfortable journey, and she didn’t want to interrupt the sleep Ruby had already entered. “We’ve stayed at stagecoach stops the past several nights, arriving late and leaving early. A full night of sleep will do her as much good as the bath and wonderful meal has.”

Rosalie pulled back the covers. “Lay her down. I hadn’t thought of your travels. You must be exhausted, too.”

“It’s been a long day,” Janette admitted while tucking the covers around Ruby. The bed was not only far softer than anything she’d slept on for nearly a month, it was larger and cleaner. Considering Gabe was waiting to speak with her downstairs, it would be some time before she’d be able to climb in beside Ruby.

“Why, you have to be as ready for bed as Ruby,” Rosalie said. “Gabe will understand that and—”

“He is waiting for me,” Janette interrupted. “I best get down to the parlor.” She had no desire to talk with him, none at all, but the sooner it was done, the sooner she could crawl in beside Ruby. Carrying the sleeping child had suddenly made her just as tired.

Rosalie took the kitten out of the basket and set it down next to Ruby, where it instantly curled into a ball. Janette should insist the kitten be returned to the porch but chose not to. If Ruby awoke before she returned, the kitten would ease her fears.

As she and Rosalie left the room, Janette said, “It’s my understanding there is a train station close by.”

“Just a few miles north of the house,” Rosalie said. “Every train heading east and west stops there to take on water and wood.”

“Is there a town?”

“No. The station is on Triple C land. It was a deal Jacob made with the railroad years ago.”

The small amount of information she had about the Triple C was from the letters Anna had written over the years. “Jacob Callaway? Max and Gabe’s father?”

“Yes. When the railroad approached Jacob about selling property to them, he made an arrangement instead.”

“What sort of arrangement?”

“I don’t know all the details,” Rosalie said. “You’d have to ask Gabe. But we are 140 miles west of Hays and 180 east of Colorado Springs, with not a whole lot in between. The railroad needed us, and we needed it. Especially back then.”

“Why do you say that?” she asked as they started down the stairway that led back down to the kitchen.

“Traveling through this country even as few as ten years ago wasn’t as safe as it is today. The army fort, which is now deserted, was the only thing out in this area, other than Indians and the Triple C. Going on about fifteen years ago, there was a family traveling through that a band of Southern Cheyenne attacked. They killed the parents and three older children, but they took the four younger ones, all girls, as captives.”

Janette had heard many such tales. Stories like that were the reason she and Anna and their mother remained in Kansas City while her father lived in several of the army forts scattered throughout Kansas over the years.

“Did they ever discover what became of the girls?” she asked, assuming they were never found. That was how most of the stories ended.

“The two younger ones were just five and seven and come winter, the Cheyenne abandoned them in northern Texas. When the soldiers found them, they figured they’d been alone for over six weeks. They also found the other two girls and negotiated their releases. All four girls were reunited and sent back to family in the east somewhere.”

“That’s remarkable,” Janette said as they arrived in the kitchen. None of her father’s stories ever had happy endings. Or as happy as they could be.

“Yes, it was,” Rosalie said. “The railroad came through not long after that, and we’ve been supplying the locomotives with water and wood ever since. Of course, they also haul cattle in and out of here for us, as well as any other supplies we need.”

Janette merely nodded. Anna had mentioned a train station near the ranch, but the stage depot in Texas hadn’t heard of it, so she was glad to know it was still in operation. The last stage driver they’d had seemed kinder than some of the others, but there hadn’t been time to question him. Another passenger had been curt enough about them stopping at the crossroad, which was an unscheduled stop, he’d rudely pointed out. A train ride to Kansas City would be much more comfortable than the stagecoaches had been and not nearly as long. Her trip to Texas had started on a train, but few trains went north and south, therefore most of that trip had been by coaches, as well. She would be glad to be done with them. It had been close to a month since she’d received the notice of Anna’s and Max’s deaths and left Kansas City.

“I’ll get your things off the line,” Rosalie said. “And put them up in your room.”

“I’ll get them,” Janette said, walking toward the door.

“Gabe’s waiting on you in the parlor,” Rosalie said.

“I know,” Janette answered. “And I’ll join him as soon as I get the things off the line.” She pushed open the door and stepped onto the back porch. “And put them away.”

It wasn’t like her to be obstinate, but she hadn’t had to follow orders for years now. It had been ten years since their mother had died and five since Anna had left home. A woman does a lot of learning between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, and a good portion of it has to do with men.

She’d learned plenty before then even. Her father had died only a year before Mother, but being an army man had meant he’d rarely been home. She had several memories of him, but most of them included how her mother would beg for him to allow them all to go with him and how he’d refused. He always claimed it wasn’t safe, and, being the dutiful daughter, she’d agreed with him.

Being younger, Anna hadn’t remembered their father’s absence in the same way, and had always dreamed of marrying and having a large family. Janette hadn’t. She would love having Ruby live with her and would take very good care of her, but that would be all the family she ever needed. She’d seen how years of waiting for a man to return took its toll on a woman, and she’d never be that woman.

The wind fought her as she removed the clothes from the line. However, Janette discovered the unrelenting wind was good for something. It had whipped the clothes so hard there was barely a wrinkle in their garments. She folded each garment before setting them in the basket, including the tapestry traveling bags that Rosalie had also washed, and then carried the lot inside and upstairs. Sunlight still shone in through the windows, so she packed everything except for the clothing she and Ruby would need for tomorrow, which would need a mere touch of ironing.

Then, drawing in a deep breath, she started for the doorway. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she paused to check her appearance and flinched. The skin was still tender, so she hadn’t forgotten about the poison ivy, but with so much on her mind, she had forgotten how she looked. Her neck and chin were still red and blotchy, making her look like some sort of leper. A closer examination said a few of the blisters were weeping.

How could Gabe take her seriously when she looked like this? Spinning away from the mirror, she walked back to the table where she’d left her bag and dug out a handkerchief. He made her nervous enough. She certainly didn’t need to look like something that would make dogs cower.

Back at the mirror, she blotted each blister. Twice. But it was of little use. She still looked awful. Dreadful. Frightful.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered. “What does it matter? I’m not here to impress Gabe Callaway in any way.”

She set the handkerchief on the dresser, took a deep breath and walked out the door.

The front staircase led to the foyer, and she took a deep breath while holding on to the newel post before taking the final step off the steps and turning toward the parlor. He was in there, sitting in one of the leather upholstered wing-backed chairs flanking the fireplace that took up a good portion of the inside wall.

With her head held high, she entered the room. The glint in his eyes as he glanced up was easy to read. So be it. A few minutes of waiting didn’t cause any damage. Other than in his attitude toward her, which had been as black as a thunderhead since she’d arrived.

Slow and meticulously, he folded the newspaper he’d been reading and set it on the table beside his chair.

She waited, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to invite her to take a seat, she crossed the room and sat on the sofa that faced the fireplace and his chair.

The borrowed dress she wore was made of common cotton and dyed a pale blue and fitted her well enough, but she certainly would have been more comfortable in one of her own creations. She took pride in everything she sewed, and that sense of pride also gave her courage. Something she needed right now. Changing into one of her outfits would have taken more time, but it would have been worth it. She should have realized that. Her pistol that fitted perfectly in all her dress pockets would have been comforting, too. As it was, it was in the bottom of her bag upstairs.

It would also help if her neck hadn’t started to itch again.

“How much do you want?”

Lifting her gaze to meet his very serious one, she asked, “Excuse me?”

“How much do you want?”

“How much what?”

He leaned forward and propped both hands on his knees. “There is no need to pretend, Miss Parker. We both know you are here so I will give you money. The question is how much?”

Janette planted both hands on the sofa cushions beside her thighs to keep from jumping to her feet. After drawing in a breath to quell her anger, she blew it out slowly and pulled up a snide smile. “I assure you, Mr. Callaway, the last thing I’m after is money.”

Never taking his eyes off her, he leaned back in his chair. “I find that doubtful.”

He must also find it doubtful that she had plenty of her own money. Money she’d earned by sewing seven days a week for the past ten years. She couldn’t say why it irritated her like it did. Men were the ones after money. Isaac Fredrickson certainly had been. Recalling his name made a lump form in her throat. Drawing in a breath to settle her nerves, she asked, “Why would you find that doubtful?”

“Why else would you be here?”

In order to keep from snapping, she bit the inside of her lip until it stung. Then, calmly, she said, “I’m here so Ruby could meet her uncle.”

“Ruby is three and had no say in where you chose to take her.”

“That is true,” she admitted. “However, Anna knew how much Max wanted you to know about Ruby. To meet her. She mentioned that in every letter she wrote to me. Therefore, I felt obligated to bring her here for you to meet.”

“And to request funds to raise her.”

“No—”

“Please don’t insult me, Miss Parker.”

Before she could stop herself, she’d jumped to her feet. “Insult you? And exactly what, Mr. Callaway, are you doing to me? Insulting me. That’s what you’re doing.” Unable to stand still, she crossed the room, gulping in air to ease the anger flaring bright and hot inside her. “I am not—let me repeat that—am not here to request money from you.” Spinning around, she marched back toward him. “Although it is none of your business, I have more than enough funds to raise Ruby.”

He stood, but his stone-cold expression hadn’t changed. “Are you saying you’re a wealthy woman?”

She stopped near the sofa and eyed him directly. “That would depend upon your definition of wealth. My home is not nearly as extravagant as yours, nor my business as broad, but I have more than enough to provide for a child.”

“Providing for a child takes more than money, Miss Parker.”

He was so cold, so unemotional, she almost laughed. Only because he was making her that nervous. And angry. “Do you think I don’t know that?”

“I think you didn’t do a very good job the first time around.”

Momentarily taken aback, she had to contemplate his answer. “Are you referring to the poison ivy? That wasn’t my fault, and—”

“No, I’m referring to your sister. Anna.” Lifting a brow as he gave her face and neck a rather scrutinizing examination, he held his tongue until their gazes met again. “As I recall, you didn’t do a very good job raising Anna. You drove her away.”

“I—” Her mind couldn’t work this fast. Her heart was still racing, thudding so hard it echoed in her ears, so it took a moment before his statement hit her brain. “What are you talking about?”

“Anna told me about working for you.”

“Anna didn’t work for me, we worked together,” she corrected. When his brow lifted again, an uneasy sensation rippled her spine.

“Don’t you mean she worked while other things occupied your time?”

Chapter Four

The look of utter shock on her face told Gabe he might have gone too far. His comment had sounded insulting. He’d meant it to be. He’d been insulting her since she’d walked into the room. He didn’t like being kept waiting, and she’d done so on purpose. However, perhaps for the first time in his life, his stomach curdled at his own behavior. Actually, it wasn’t his behavior that had turned his stomach inside out. She had when she’d said that stuff about Max wanting him to meet Ruby.

Not impressed by how deeply that affected him, he said, “Let’s get to the point, shall we?”

A sneer of disgust covered her face as she asked, “And exactly what is the point, Mr. Callaway? To see how rude one person can possibly be to another?”

She spoke her mind. He’d give her that. Anna had, too. It had been part of what had drawn him to her. Not drawn this time, he moved back toward his chair. “Ruby,” he said. “If what you are saying is true, that you aren’t here to ask for money.” He paused while turning about and sitting down. “Then I will offer you my hospitality until you’re prepared to return to Kansas City.”

“How kind of you,” she said with more arsenic than a chemist’s cupboard. Smoothing her skirt over her knees as she sat down, she continued, “You can rest assured we will not overstay our welcome. I believe there is an eastbound train stopping near here tomorrow. If it won’t be too much trouble, Ruby and I will merely require a ride to the station in order to board the locomotive.”

Good. The sooner she left, the better they’d all be. “One of my men will give you a ride.”

Her smile was starchy and snide at the same time. “Thank you.”

Needing to be sure she understood fully, he said, “You, a ride. Ruby will be staying here.”

The smile faded as she shook her head.

“Yes, Miss Parker. Ruby, my niece, will be remaining with me, here at the ranch that she will one day inherit.”

“Ruby is also my niece, and I have a lovely home and a flourishing dress shop that she will one day inherit.”

“She won’t need it,” he said.

“Maybe she will want it.”

“That is something she can decide when the time is right.” Not giving her a chance to respond, he continued, “You said you brought her here for me to meet her. Well, I have, and I’ve decided she’s staying here.”

“No, she’s not. Anna entrusted her to me, and I shall honor my sister’s wishes. The same wishes I honored by bringing her here for you to meet.” Settling a solid glare, she continued, “You could have met her anytime over the past few years, if you weren’t so bullheaded.”

That was the pot calling the kettle black, but there was no need for him to point that out. However, he would gladly point out a few very important facts. “You aren’t forgetting that through his will my brother entrusted Ruby to me, are you? I’m not, and I plan to honor his wishes.”

“You didn’t even know she existed.”

Her hands were folded and resting in her lap. Compared with a few moments ago, she was so calm an uneasiness rippled across his shoulders.

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “Which is why I’d never met her. However, I know about her now, and as I stated before, because Anna died before Max, his will is the one that holds precedence. If you are questioning that, I can, and will, request a lawyer to examine the wills.”

“A lawyer who is a friend of yours, no doubt.”

She was still too calm. Shrewd. But calm. He had to respect that. Respect her. Despite his misgivings. “If you believe that is unfair, we can travel to Hays. There are several lawyers there as well as a district judge.”

A thoughtful expression tugged her brows together for a brief moment. “That, Mr. Callaway, might be the most brilliant suggestion you’ll ever make. A district judge would settle this once and for all.”

Another ripple crossed his shoulders, and he wasn’t sure why. “Yes, it would.”

“Then I believe that is what we should do.”

He stood. “Be prepared to travel to Hays tomorrow, Miss Parker.”

She stood and, with her nose in the air, nodded. “Ruby and I will be ready.”

“Ruby will remain here at the ranch.”

The way she pinched her lips together said she wanted to disagree, yet she didn’t. Without another word, she walked around the sofa and out the doorway.

His instincts were good, and they told him this wasn’t over. She hadn’t agreed Ruby would remain behind, nor argued the point on purpose. She wasn’t as clever as she thought. Come morning, he’d be prepared.

He walked as far as the doorway and watched her climb the staircase. Her steps were graceful while being purposeful. There, too, he found a bit of admiration for her. She knew he was watching her, yet didn’t let it show. There was more to Miss Janette Parker than he’d first assumed.

She’d soon discover there was more to him, too.

* * *

By the time she reached the top of the staircase, Janette figured there were two burned holes in the back of her borrowed dress. Her skin was most likely singed. Years of pleasing others had taught her how to maintain her composure. It had taken all she’d learned in the past to maintain control downstairs. However, it would also take more than an idle threat to scare her, and the sooner Gabe Callaway learned that, the better off they’d all be.

Leave Ruby here. Not a chance.

Not.

A.

Chance.

Fortified by her own confidence, Janette entered the bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat as her gaze landed on the bed. Lying on her side, Ruby had both arms wrapped around the black-and-white kitten. Her tiny chin was resting on the kitten’s head, and both were sound asleep.

Janette closed the door and quietly crossed the room to undress using only the moonlight shining in through the window. Traveling with a kitten wouldn’t be that difficult. In fact, it would make the trip that much more enjoyable for Ruby.

His suggestion to visit a judge had shocked her at first, but it was a very good idea. No judge would give a child to a man living miles away from the closest town, the closest school. A breath of satisfaction filled her. Upon a visit to the judge, all would be settled, and her duty to Anna and Max complete. She’d never need to see Gabe Callaway again. Ever.

Dressed in her nightgown, Janette was about to fold back the covers on the other side of the bed when a soft knock sounded on the door. She quietly crossed the room and pulled the door open just enough to peek through the crack.

“I brought you some more baking soda and vinegar,” Rosalie said. “You’ll want to put it on your neck again before turning in. The itching could strike again if you don’t.”

“I’d nearly forgotten about it,” Janette admitted, pulling the door wider. “Thank you.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, I can manage.” Janette took the tray from Rosalie’s hands. “But thank you again.”

“All right.” Nodding toward the bed, Rosalie said, “Sleeping like a babe.”

“They both are.”

“That baking soda paste will need to sit on your neck for a while to do any good, so I made you a cup of tea to drink. It’ll help you sleep, too.”

“Thank you very much,” Janette said.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then,” Rosalie said. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Janette carried the tray to the dresser and then returned to close the door. As the hairs on her arms rose, she turned slightly. Gabe was at the end of the hall and didn’t even pretend to appear as if he wasn’t watching her. She closed the door and felt for a key sticking out of the keyhole. There wasn’t one.

She crossed the room and collected the wooden-back chair from near the dressing table and carried it back to the door. After hooking the back of the chair beneath the doorknob, she made her way to the bed, where she crawled beneath the covers and refused, absolutely refused, to allow a single thought about Gabe to enter her mind.

He didn’t. But the itching did. Dang him. How could he have made her forget the poison ivy? She pushed aside the covers, swung her feet over the edge and then made her way to the dresser, where she coated her neck with the baking soda Rosalie had mixed into a paste. Then she carried the cup of tea to the chairs near the window and sat down in one to let the paste do its job.

The tea was warm, sweet and soothing, and she leaned her head against the back of the chair. For as windy as it had been earlier, there was little more than a gentle breeze coming in the window, as well as a few night sounds. Crickets, an owl, the snorts of a horse.

The peacefulness was pleasant. Her home was on a well-traveled road that led to one of the many rail yards in the city. Wagons could be heard rolling up and down at all times of the night. She’d long ago gotten used to it.

She missed home. Mainly sewing. Each time she looked at Ruby, she’d picture a design that would look adorable on her. Over the past few years, she’d sewn several dresses and sent them to Anna, including the one Ruby had worn today and the past several days. The stage stops had barely allowed sleeping time, let alone time for a proper bath and to change clothes. For her, too. Tonight was the first time she’d worn her nightgown since she’d left Kansas City. The few days she’d been in Texas, she’d stayed with Mrs. Potter, the woman who’d taken care of Ruby. Without provisions for guests, the only hotel in town had closed its doors.

Traveling by train would be far more comfortable than the stagecoaches had been, and being home would be absolutely wonderful.

She twisted from the window, and her gaze settled on the bed. She and Ruby could leave from Hays directly after they met with the judge. It would be good to get Ruby settled and into a normal routine.

A yawn stretched Janette’s mouth so wide her ears popped.

The past month was certainly catching up with her. With all the traveling and worry, she hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours each night. A solid, full night of sleep is exactly what she needed. If she sat here much longer, she’d fall asleep in the chair. She made her way back over to the dresser and held her breath through the process of rinsing away the soda with the vinegar and then gratefully climbed into bed.

* * *

It felt as if she’d barely closed her eyes when a loud clanging had her sitting upright.

The noise continued, and though it didn’t appear to be bothering Ruby, Janette tossed aside the covers and stumbled, somewhat sleepily, to the window. It was still dark outside, but there was a faint hint of color to the sky.

Covering her ears as the clanging continued, she stuck her head out the window. Down the hill were several buildings, barns and whatnots, and on the porch of one stood a man—at least she assumed it was a man—ringing some sort of bell and yelling.

She twisted left and right, sniffing the air. There was no hint of smoke, of a fire, but why else would they be sounding an alarm? Pulling her head inside, she closed the window so the noise wouldn’t wake Ruby before grabbing her dress off the back of the chair. Still groggy, she pressed the dress against the front of her nightgown and made her way to the door. After maneuvering the chair aside, she pulled the door open to peek out and again sniff for the scent of fire. She didn’t detect any smoke, but Gabe was in the hallway, just outside her door.

“Is there a fire?”

“No,” he answered. “Why?”

A sense of relief, or just tiredness, had her leaning her head against the edge of the open door. “Why is that man sounding the fire bell?”

“That’s not a fire bell. It’s the morning wake-up call. Shorty’s letting the hired hands know breakfast will be on the table in less than an hour.”

“Breakfast?” She tried to smother a yawn, but it won out. Once it ended, she leaned heavier against the door. “It can’t be morning already.”

A tiny mew sounded, and the kitten brushed against her ankle before it slipped out the narrow opening of the door.

“It’s morning,” he said, picking up the kitten. “Even this little guy knows it’s time for breakfast.”

“It’s a girl.” Another yawn struck, and lasted as long as the other one had. Shaking her head once it ended, she said, “That kitten’s a girl, not a guy. And it can’t be morning. The sun isn’t up yet.”

He might have chuckled, she wasn’t overly sure. It took all her concentration just to keep her eyes open. One of them anyway.

“Go back to bed, Janette,” he said. “Shorty won’t ring the bell again.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Too tired to really care, she nodded and stumbled back toward the bed.

* * *

Gabe reached to pull the door shut but then pushed it open instead. Dawn had yet to break, but there was enough muted light for him to see her stumble around the bed and then collapse onto the mattress. Whether he liked to believe it or not, he wasn’t completely heartless, and he stepped into the room. The toe of his boot caught on something and he bent down to pick it up. The dress she’d been holding until she’d dropped it while covering a yawn. He tossed it over the nearby chair. Still holding the kitten in one hand, he walked around the bed and used his free hand to carefully flip the covers over the top of her.

She mumbled something as she snuggled her head deeper into the pillow her hands were tucked beneath. He’d seen sleepy people before, but she hadn’t been able to stop yawning or keep her eyes open. For a moment, he’d wondered if she was going to fall asleep leaning against the door.

He reached across her and pulled the covers over Ruby, who was also sleeping soundly, and then carried the kitten out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“They’re exhausted,” he told the kitten. “Texas is a long ways from here and not an easy trip.”

A touch of chagrin rippled over him, but not so much it erased the smile from his face. She’d be mortified when she woke up and realized she’d been walking around in nothing but her nightgown. Walking down the back staircase, he almost laughed at the thought of letting her think there had been enough light for him to see through the thin material she’d been wearing.

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