Love Finds You in Last Chance, California (5 page)

Her papa’s touch showed in every board and shutter of the house. He had loved well-lit rooms, and while he’d paid dearly for them, he’d brought in a number of windows. A porch swing hung on the front veranda, a thoughtful gift from her papa to her mother years back. He’d brought his little daughter out in the cool of the evening and rocked her to sleep while telling her bedtime stories.

A longing to feel his strong arms around her swelled in Alex’s chest. Why did God take him so soon? Didn’t he know she still needed her papa?

A deep-throated bark sounded, and a huge black-and-tan form dashed around the corner of the house. Alex smiled and braced for the big dog’s greeting.

“Hunter! Sit.”

The massive animal immediately plopped himself onto the ground at her feet, but his expressive eyes clearly stated his desire to greet her in a more exuberant canine fashion. Alex laughed and hugged her friend.

“It’s good to see you, too, Hunter.” She waved an arm. “We’ll play later.”

He took off across the yard and immediately returned with a thick stick.

“Not now. You’ll have to get one of the wranglers to throw it.” She watched the dog turn, hang his head, and cross the yard to the barn, the stick still gripped in his mouth.

A movement caught the corner of her vision. One of the hired hands, Davis, stood just inside the barn door watching the interaction. She raised her hand in a brief wave, and the man stepped out into the sun. Something about his eyes didn’t look right, and Alex stepped closer and squinted. Bloodshot.

Had Davis been drinking? Her thoughts flew back to the man she’d seen leaving the saloon. Could he have arrived here ahead of her? Yes—she’d stopped at the telegraph office before heading home.

“Davis?”

He pulled his hat from his head and looked at his feet. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Have you been at the ranch all day?”

“Uh…” He glanced up and met her eyes. “I’ve been checkin’ the mares in the east pasture.”

She folded her arms and tilted her head. “You haven’t been to town?”

“No, ma’am. Not today.” He turned his hat in his hands. “Did you forget somethin’ you want that I should get for you?”

“No. How were the mares?”

The sudden shift in topic seemed to catch him off guard. He jerked his head up and met her stare. “Oh—fine—just fine, Miss Travers. No problems a’tall.”

“Okay, thanks.” Checking on him might be an option, but she’d let it go this time. To her knowledge, Davis had never been dishonest or slacked in his work. Besides, the men had been working doubly hard since her father’s death. Maybe he just needed a break.

The front door swung open and a tall, gray-haired woman stood on the stoop. “Alexia? I didn’t hear you ride in. You been home long?” Martha’s familiar voice sang across the lawn, its welcome tones warming the cold places her father’s passing had created.

Alex swung away from Davis and crossed the gravel to the porch. “Hunter wanted to play, but I told him to wait.” She trotted up the steps. “I declare, only a year old and that dog’s as big as a pony. Is Uncle Joe in yet?”

“Yep. He just finished his chores. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. I began to think you’d miss it.” Martha wiped floury hands on her apron and gave Alex a quick hug. “You all right?” She stepped back and examined the younger woman’s face, worry and love evident in her eyes and mouth.

“Right enough, I guess.” Alex grasped Martha’s hand. “Come on, let’s have some of your famous coffee. After that drive, a cup sounds good.”

They crossed the foyer and entered the parlor. A large fireplace lined one wall, with horsehair chairs and a sofa flanking the other. It opened into a dining area containing a wooden table large enough to seat twelve people. Flowers stood in a vase in the center, and three place settings sat at one end.

Martha bustled to the stove in the nearby kitchen, lifted the coffeepot off the grate, and returned to the table with the pot and three steaming cups balanced on a tray. She hurried back to the stove, lifted a lid, and sniffed.

“Stew’s ready. Help me dish up?”

The two women carried the stew pot, a plate with big slices of bread, and a crock of home-churned butter to the table. Alex never failed to feel gratitude to their old friend Jonesy, who kept a milk cow. The thought of hot bread without butter seemed almost a sin.

A door slammed and a whistle sounded at the rear of the house. Alex would know Uncle Joe’s special brand of music anywhere. A moment later, the short, lanky man stomped into sight. He leaned on a cane and moved with care, but his eyes lit when he spotted Alex. He removed his hat to reveal white hair badly in need of cutting, curling as it was over his collar.

“Hi there, darlin’. How’d your meetin’ with the banker go?” He pulled out a chair and slipped into it.

Alex loved the man, but in that moment her feelings toward Uncle Joe weren’t very charitable. From his guarded expression, she knew that her father had confided in him. To what extent, she didn’t know, but the truth would come out soon enough. “Mr. Elton was kindness itself, but I can’t say much good about his message.”

“Uh-huh.” Uncle Joe leaned back and crossed his arms, but a compassionate look filled his faded blue eyes. “He told you about the note Benjamin took out.”

Hurt shimmered from Alex’s voice. “So all this time you knew and didn’t tell me? Why?”

Sorrow clouded his face. “Wasn’t my place. Your father was my best friend. I couldn’t betray his trust.”

A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder and Alex looked up at Martha. “Honey, don’t you go blamin’ your uncle Joe. Your papa told him to keep quiet. He didn’t want you getting riled at Joe.”

Alex sat up straight and felt her scalp bristle. “You both knew? I can’t believe this!”

Martha sank into her chair and straightened her dress before answering. “Yes, and if he hadn’t died, it would’ve been your father’s place to tell you, not ours. Your papa was a strong man and once he’d made up his mind, one didn’t go against his wishes.”

“Not even after he died? I went into Mr. Elton’s office blind. Felt like I’d been tossed into the creek in the middle of winter.” Alex laced her fingers around her mug of coffee but didn’t lift it to her lips.

Joe fingered his mustache and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Martha and I discussed it, and we planned on tellin’ you. But then Clarence asked you to come and we knew you was about to find out.”

Martha raised her hand. “We’d best pray and then eat. Joe, would you bless this food?”

Joe uttered a short prayer and then raised piercing eyes that looked straight into Alex’s heart. “We didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Alex picked up her spoon, took a bite of stew, and sighed. “I’m not angry. Well, maybe I am a little, but I can’t stay angry at you two for long.” She smiled weakly. “But I’d like to know what Papa was thinking. It’s not like we need more breeding stock. We’re getting along fine.”

Joe’s snow-white head shook from side to side. “He wanted more than just gettin’ along for you, darlin’. He wanted to make sure you’d be provided for proper-like, if’n anything should happen to him.”

“And look where that’s gotten me.” Alex took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m sorry. I hate this. Why couldn’t Papa have left things the way they were?”

Joe stretched out his short, dusty legs and reached for his mug. “Life can’t stay the same forever, Alex. Ever’thing changes some time or other.”

“But I don’t understand why he’d choose to go into debt. Papa meant the best, but this mortgage puts me in a tough position. I don’t know if the horses have been paid for, and Mr. Elton says Papa left the bank with a bag of gold the day before his accident. Did he leave it with either of you?”

Martha sat upright and stared first at Alex, then at Joe. “Gold? I had no idea he was carrying gold.” She turned a distraught face to the quiet man. “Joe?”

“Don’t remember seein’ or hearin’ about any gold. I reckon it’s possible he kept it on his person for safe keepin’. Your papa told me about the bank loan, but I figured he’d send payment straight to the breeder in Los Angeles.” He drummed his work-roughened fingers against the polished surface of the pine table. “There’s one more thing….”

Alex leaned forward and narrowed her eyes, not liking his tone. “Yes? What else don’t I know?”

“Your father was carryin’ ore samples to the assayer at Last Chance the day he died. He wasn’t seen in town, so it’s a safe bet he didn’t make it before he fell off his horse.” He scratched his whiskered chin and frowned. “Not sure why I didn’t think about that ’fore now.”

Martha gasped and clasped her hands over her heart. “What you talkin’ about, Joe? Why would Ben have ore samples?”

Joe scraped his spoon across the bottom of his bowl and then wiped up the broth with a slab of bread. He took a large bite, chewed, swallowed, and shook his head. “You know Ben’s had a hankerin’ to find gold. That’s what brought him to this country. Sure, he turned to ranchin’, but that didn’t keep him from hopin’. He told me the night before he died that he’d found what looked to be a likely spot somewhere on his land. Told me he’d show me where after he got the assay results.”

Alex gripped Joe’s hand. “Do you have any idea where he found it, Uncle Joe? He didn’t tell you the general area?”

Joe shook his head and squeezed her hand. “Nope, ’fraid not. Guess somebody should check with Samuel at the assay office. Might be a false alarm.”

“I’ll check.” Alex sighed and leaned back in her chair. “He raised me to help run this ranch, and I don’t understand why he kept this from me. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

A loud thumping at the kitchen door interrupted the small group. Alex turned her head and Joe pushed to his feet, grasped his cane, and hobbled to the door. He swung it open and peered outside. “Tim. What can I do for you?”

A rawboned cowboy stood holding his hat, spinning it round in his calloused hands. Alex slipped behind Joe in time to see Tim raise troubled eyes to the older man. “I need to give my notice.”

Joe scowled. “What for?”

Tim dropped his gaze to the floor. “Got me a better job offer.”

“What d’ya mean? Don’t we pay fair wages?”

“It’s not the wages, Joe.”

“What’s the problem, then?” There was a pause. “Spit it out, son.”

Tim hesitated and then glanced at Alex. “Since Ben died, things been gettin’ shaky around here.” He turned his attention back to Joe. “You’re stove up and can’t ride, and we got no boss.”

Alex stepped forward and put her hand on Joe’s arm. “I’m taking Papa’s place.”

“I know, ma’am, and that’s just it. I just don’t think I can work for a woman. No offense. Some of the other men feel the same. Foster offered me a job, and I told him I’d take it.”

Alex sucked in her breath. “Carter Foster? He’s trying to hire our men behind our backs?”

“No, ma’am. I ran into him at the saloon one night and we got to talkin’. I told him my concerns. He said you’d be a fair person to work for, but I told him I planned to move on. He’s runnin’ a few more head of horses and doin’ some mining, as well. He offered decent wages and said he’d put me in charge, if I do a good job.”

Joe nodded. “So after workin’ here for nigh on to three years, you’re quittin’.”

“I’m sorry, Joe.”

Joe’s expression hardened. “Stop by in the mornin’ and draw your pay. And tell the other men if anyone wants to leave, they can do the same.”

Alex stepped back from the door as Tim hurried away. She crossed her arms and glared at the closed door and then swung around toward Joe. “I know as much about running this ranch as Papa did.”

Joe patted her shoulder. “I know, honey.” He glanced at Martha and she gave a sparse nod. “Gus quit today, too.”

“Gus? But why? He’s been with us as long as Tim.”

“I heard him talkin’ to Tim about you bein’ in charge when I walked up behind him. We had words and he up an’ quit. Gus and Tim are old pards.”

Alex leaned against the doorjamb and groaned. “Great. Two hands gone in one day. That makes it tough, since Frank’s so new. What if some of the others leave? I’m surprised Davis hasn’t, seeing how he’s a buddy of Tim and Gus.”

Joe leaned on his cane and shook his head. “Guess you’ll have to take the reins and prove you can do the job. You’ve been ridin’ and breakin’ horses since you were little. Some of the men might not want to work for a woman, but a few will give you a chance. I’ll help all I can, but this hip won’t let me do as much as I’d like.”

Martha wrapped her arm around Alex’s shoulder and squeezed. “You can do it, Alexia, but you need to trust God. He’s the one in charge, not you.”

Alex drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know, but it’s my responsibility, not His. The men won’t see God giving the orders; they’ll see me. It’s not like I can turn it over to Him and sit back.”

Martha reached out a gnarled hand and stroked Alex’s hair, running her fingers through the tangles teased by the wind. “No. You shouldn’t sit back, but you do need to trust Him. There’s a difference, and it’s one you’ll have to figure out if this ranch is to succeed—and if you’re to have peace.”

“I know, but I’m not sure how to get from where I am to what you’re suggesting. It sounds easy to trust God, but it’s hard when the person you always leaned on is suddenly gone.” She ducked her head and whispered to herself in a low voice, “And God’s the one who took him.”

Joe cleared his throat and tapped his cane on the floor. “Reckon I’ll go sit for a spell, if you ladies don’t need me?”

Alex gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you both. I’d better check Papa’s office and see if I can find any sign of that gold.” She walked out of the roomy kitchen and across the small foyer into her father’s pine-paneled office to the left of the front door. She paused and drew a deep breath, taking in the sparse masculine aspects of the room and inhaling the scent of his leather chaps still hanging on a hook nearby.

This had been his sanctuary and work space, all in one. It was the place where the young Alex had run for comfort with her bumps and bruises or when her heart was sore from the teasing at school. Papa had always made time for her, always put aside his work and taken her on his lap.