Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3) (33 page)

BOOK: Sunrise Ridge (Redemption Mountain Historical Western Romance Book 3)
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“And did he?”

“Yes, he did.” Her face lit in a bright smile, helping to pull Noah from his dark mood. “And the town is providing money to help fix it up.”

“That’s good news. Now I need to gather the men. Give me a couple days, find out who’s available. With enough help, we may be able to get most of the work done over two, maybe three days.”

“Papa taught me how to use a hammer and whitewash boards. I’ll do whatever you tell me.”

“Let’s not worry about that today. I know the men will need plenty of food and lots of water. I’m certain you can work something out with Suzanne to help with the food.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll speak with her right away.” Sarah placed a hand on his arm and looked up at him “Thank you so much, Mr. Brandt.” She dropped her hand and stepped back. “I’ll be ready whenever you have the men.”

He nodded, pleased with her delight in the small amount of help he and a few other men could contribute to her new home. For a few minutes, she’d taken his mind off his mistakes with Abby and the possible danger. Enough time for him to calm down and realize he had to make some decisions, fast.

“So this is the Tolbert ranch?” Hal sat forward in his saddle, looking down at the grassy valley below dotted with cattle and several riders.

“A small part. It’s the largest ranch in the area. The Pelletiers to the west are the next largest.” Archie had ridden every acre of Tolbert’s land when he worked for the man. “Below us is where the largest herd is kept, the ones they’ll plan to drive to market. The timing is good. They’ll be moving them out within a few weeks.”

“We’ll need to get closer, get a count on the number of men guarding the cattle.” Hal reined his horse around, intending to head down a narrow path leading into the valley.

“Not yet. We wait until evening.” Archie sat steady, watching as cowhands circled around the herd, cutting out a few head and moving them into a smaller group. “It’s easy to spot riders coming down the trails in daylight.”

“Not while they’re working the cattle. They’ll never see us coming.”

“Don’t underestimate them. Tolbert hired men good with guns and cattle.” Archie slid off his horse. “Might as well settle in. There’s nothing more to do until the sun sets.”

Waiting did nothing for Hal’s sour mood. He’d thought they’d ride the perimeter of the pasture, count the men, and head back to their camp. The raid the day before got them thirty head. By the looks of it, they’d take at least five times as many from Tolbert’s daughter. When this ended, they’d have enough to drive the herd south, sell them, then lose themselves in the mountains of Colorado. Pushing his hat over his eyes, he fell into a heavy sleep, waking when Archie jostled him a few hours later.

“Time to move out.”

The moon provided enough light to see as they made their way down the twisting trail. The wind blew in their favor, reducing the risk of the cattle picking up their scent and alerting the ranch hands. They moved at a slow pace, searching for the best vantage point to get a good count of men and cattle. Archie slowed up as they reached the bottom of the hill, reining his horse into a small clearing surrounded by thick shrubs.

“You see those men?” He pointed to their left where several men sat around a fire, their bedrolls tossed on the ground. “Now over there.” Archie indicated a group to their right, hidden in the shadows, across the pasture. No fire burned and their silhouettes were barely discernible within the cover of the trees. “Tolbert always insisted on at least one group of men posted away from the fire. These men are the ones we must locate.”

“Don’t see why we need to look further. You’ve already spotted them.”

Archie shook his head at Hal’s inability to grasp the meaning. “There may be a third group. If so, they’d be between the first two, somewhere over there.” He lifted his arm straight in front of him, to a location across the pasture.

Hal leaned forward in the saddle, squinting in the direction Archie pointed. “I don’t see anyone.”

“It may be they don’t feel the need to be as cautious with Drake dead. I’m not willing to take the chance. We’ll wait here, make certain there aren’t other men posted as lookouts.”

“All right, but if we don’t see anything in the next hour, we return to our camp. It’s time we finish this and head out of the territory.” Hal reined his horse back among the trees. He’d wait, as Archie suggested, but not for long.

“Get Dax. And be quick.” Rachel gripped her hands tight around her protruding belly, the pain so intense, she thought she’d collapse.

“Not until I get you in a bed.” Ginny wrapped an arm around her sister-in-law and moved toward the downstairs guest room. Kicking open the door, she helped Rachel lay down, putting pillows behind her back. “Do you want water or anything?”

“No…just get Dax,” she ground out as another intense pain coursed through her.

“I’ll be right back.” Ginny dashed out to find him.

As Rachel’s uncle predicted, the baby had decided to come early. She’d scoffed at his declaration a week ago and now felt foolish for doubting him. Over his years as a doctor, he’d delivered over a hundred babies, many under desperate situations and in less than sanitary conditions.

“Rachel?” Dax slammed the door open and rushed to the bed, stroking a hand over her damp forehead. “Is the baby—”

“Yes, the baby’s coming. Have you sent for Uncle Charles?” Her breath came in gasps as she tried to control her reaction to the contractions.

“Bull’s already on his way.” He smoothed hair from her face as his worried gaze traveled to Luke, who stood beside Ginny near the door. Dax and Luke had discussed his fears of childbirth in such an isolated location many times, usually while sipping whiskey after supper. Each time, Luke assured him Rachel would be fine and they’d summon Doc Worthington at the first signs of labor.

“Dax, look at me.” Rachel gripped his hand, pulling him down, her eyes searching his. “I’ll be fine. Our baby will be fine.” She tried to smile, only to be drawn into the depths of another contraction. Her hand tightened on his until she feared the pressure would break his fingers.

“Water’s heating, Dax. I’ll grab towels and be right back.” Ginny took off toward the kitchen, Luke on her heels.

“Is she all right?” He knew his wife had been through this before, helping her mother when Ginny's sister, Mary, had been born.

“Yes. From what I’ve seen, this is normal. The contractions could go on for hours with the pain coming in intervals, then receding before starting again. She had a few small pains, then her water broke. I fetched you and Dax right away.” She grabbed towels from a drawer and nodded toward a simmering pot. “Please bring the water.”

Luke didn’t hesitate, hefting the large pot and following Ginny to the bedroom. He took a breath, not wanting anyone, especially Dax, to know Rachel’s birth pains scared him more than any of the outlaws he’d faced as a Pinkerton agent.

A scream jerked him to a stop, causing warm water to slop onto the floor and over his boots. He froze, watching Dax as he cradled Rachel, trying to comfort her until the contraction diminished. Luke knew his inability to make the pain stop would drive his brother crazy. Nothing hurt more than watching the suffering of those you loved.

“Luke, over here.” Ginny pointed to the marble-topped chest of drawers. “Luke,” she hissed once more when he failed to move.

“Yeah…I’m coming.” He almost stumbled toward Ginny, his eyes riveted on Dax and Rachel, both drenched in sweat.

“How’s she doing?”

All eyes turned toward the door as Rachel’s uncle, Doc Worthington, rushed in with his bag. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it on a nearby chair, and walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at his niece.

“How are you, my dear?”

She glared at him as if he had two heads. “How can you ask me that?” Her voice came out as a growl, surprising everyone in the room.

“Everyone out, except Ginny.”

“But Charles—”

“No argument, Dax. I need to focus on Rachel, not a squeamish husband.”

“But—”

Doc let out a breath, glancing at Luke. “Please take your brother outside. He needs fresh air before we’re wasting time picking him up off the ground.”

Luke grabbed Dax’s arm, getting shoved aside for his effort. Luke followed him, grabbing glasses and a bottle of whiskey as he passed the study.

Dax stood at the porch rail, his hands gripping the top, his head hanging down. Luke watched him for a moment before pouring them each a shot, handing Dax one before he set the bottle aside.

“Ginny told me Rachel is doing fine. Doc didn’t seem concerned and he’s delivered a lot of babies.” He clasped Dax’s shoulder. “All we can do is wait.”

Dax nodded, then took a sip from the glass, letting the liquid roll around in his mouth before swallowing. He turned, settling his hip against the porch rail.

“I can’t recall the number of battles I saw or bodies we buried during the war. Fear became a way of life, as did death. As an officer, I felt a sense of control, no matter how delusional that sounds.” He nodded toward the house. “Nothing during the war compares to how I feel now.” He downed the rest of his drink and grabbed the bottle, pouring another round.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re not the only one thinking of Rachel and hoping for the best.” He looked toward the bunkhouse where Bull, Travis, and Rude milled about, glancing toward the house every couple minutes. The contractions had begun late. Dax had no idea why they’d stayed up, but none of them were tired. He looked at the moon, guessing it must be after midnight.

Dax raised a hand and waved them over. “You’d better grab more glasses and another bottle.”

“Tell me exactly what you saw.” Dirk sat at the campfire, cradling a hot cup of coffee between his hands to ward off the early morning chill.

“I did as you asked, posted men here and in three other spots.” Mal scratched in the dirt with a stick, drawing where the men were placed. “Nothing happened until close to midnight, then one of our men spotted two riders about here.” He pointed to a location to the southeast of where they sat. “He got close enough to recognize Archie Swaggert, one of Drake’s men.”

“One of the men who worked here, right?” Dirk took a sip of coffee, staring at the ground.

“Tolbert hired me after they left, but several of the men said he used to work at the ranch with Drake and Lem Pruett.”

“The Idaho sheriff said none of the men arrested with the herd was Swaggert or Pruett.” Dirk scrubbed a hand down his face as he thought of the possibilities. “Seems those two, and whoever else rides with them, have decided to take another try at the Tolbert cattle. Did the men see which way they went when they rode out?”

“Followed them up the hill and east. Our men swear the two never saw them.”

“Good. We’ll be ready for them when they arrive. First, we’ll combine the two smaller herds on the western border near the Pelletier land. A few men will stay with that herd while the rest guard the cattle here. I’ll leave men to guard Miss Tolbert.”

“Do you think they’ll go after her?” Mal didn’t want anyone threatening her.

“No. I think they’re after the cattle, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

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