Texas Lucky (31 page)

Dammit, he had tried to forget her and told himself over and over he had no business getting involved with her. Besides, if he called on her…even hinted he wanted to court her, she would think his motive was her land.

But it wasn’t the land he wanted.

Not anymore.

He wanted
her.

She was like a fire in his blood he could not put out. He cursed the day he had abandoned her, because she hated him for it and probably always would.

Still, during long cold nights when he could think of nothing else, he had made up his mind that when spring came to thaw the land, he was going to do his best to thaw Tess as well.

Only now she was with Wendell Thorpe. Curt wished he had known Wendell was acquainted with her when he’d had lunch with him, because he would have tried to find out what was going on between them.

But Wendell had been all business, wanting to talk to someone who knew something about horses. He had heard Curt was the man to see.

Wendell had explained how he was not only looking for land to build a ranch and raise cattle, but also wanted to raise horses. Good horses. And he needed Curt’s advice on how to get started.

Curt had recommended quarterhorses, and Wendell had been fascinated.

It also turned out he was a gambling man—a
heavy
gambling man, from what Curt heard on the street. Since hitting town, Wendell had had become known as a high-stakes poker player. So the thoughts of raising horses known for speed had gotten his eyes sparkling real quick.

He had even asked Curt whether he would consider going to work for him, because he needed someone to help him select his breeding stock as well as oversee the operation.

Curt had politely declined, explaining how he had his own ranch to look after. But, because he had taken an instant liking to the man, he offered to assist whenever he could.

So where did Tess figure into all of it? Curt fretted. She might have succeeded in learning to ride and rope and shoot, but knowing about breeding horses took more time than she’d had on the range thus far.

It was not quite mealtime when Curt got back to the ranch, but close enough to be too late to join Caleb and the hands on the range. Besides, he was still too wrapped up in his musings and wanted to be alone.

He went immediately to his study and closed the door. He did not want Sanchina to know he was back, even though she would be busy in the kitchen. She had been getting on his nerves lately, making the subtle—and sometimes
not
so subtle—overtures women make when they’re interested in a man. And, since he was not about to get involved with her that way, he avoided her as much as possible.

Not that she wasn’t appealing. He just felt it might lead to trouble to sleep with a woman who worked for him. If he had a yen, he’d go to town and pay a prostitute, not satisfy it with someone who might expect more than a night’s tumble in bed since she was already living under the same roof.

He poured himself a drink and sat down behind his desk. If he got involved with any woman, it would be Tess.

Leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet up and stared through templed fingers, wondering whether he should call on her and come right out and ask what she was doing with Wendell Thorpe.

Then he told himself he was crazy.

She was still stubborn, still feisty, and he was better off leaving her alone. He had a ranch to build and no time for a skinny little upstart.

Yet he could not deny a flash of jealousy to see her with another man.

Wendell hired a full-sized stagecoach to take them to Alamedo, and it was the most luxurious Tess had ever seen. The seats were upholstered in soft, comfortable velvet instead of leather, and there were curtains at the windows that could be drawn either to hold back the dust or merely for privacy.

Two fine horses kept a steady gait, and there was an armed guard sitting up top next to the driver.

If not for the desperation of the trip, Tess knew she would have enjoyed it immensely.

Sitting across from her, Wendell gestured to the canteen on the seat beside him and asked, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a sip of water, Tess? According to the driver there’s nowhere to stop till we get to Alamedo. This is a pretty desolate road.”

“Thank you, Wendell, but I’m fine.”

They had been traveling two days, and during that time they had agreed to dispense with formality and called each other by their first names. Besides, Tess felt as though they were old friends, for they had been able to talk freely and easily from the very beginning.

She had listened to his fond recollections of his wife and knew he had loved her deeply and mourned her greatly.

He had also confided how he would probably have been better off to stay in Chicago, but he was not content to merely sit and wait to die. He wanted to live. He wanted adventure. And what better way to find it than in the Wild West?

Tess told him about herself, as well…but not everything. She explained what had brought her west in the first place—to get married—but from that point on she altered the truth. She could not bring herself to divulge having been arrested for mule-stealing, much less being locked up with Curt and how they had escaped to commit what everyone else would consider robbery.

When Wendell jumped to the conclusion that she had supported herself with her dowry, Tess allowed him to believe it to a point. Yielding to her pride, she described how she had won her land in a horse race.

And, since then, he had wanted to talk of nothing else.

“Well,” Wendell was saying, “if you don’t care for any water, I’ll have some myself.”

He took a silver flask from inside his coat.

Tess knew it contained whiskey, not water.

He took a long swallow, dabbed at his mouth with his handkerchief, then leaned his head back against the seat with a contented sigh and urged, “Tell me more about your racing, Tess. Were there a lot of spectators? And was a lot of betting going on?”

“Oh, yes.” She laughed. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since coming west, it’s that men love to gamble. Be it horses, fisticuffs, or poker, there’s plenty of gambling going on.”

“I really want to get involved in horse racing,” he said with enthusiasm. That’s what I met with Mr. Hammond to discuss, you know.”

Her interest piqued. “No, I didn’t know. You just said it was business. I assumed it had to do with cattle.”

“Cattle.” He waved a hand airily as though to dispel any regard on that subject. “It’s horses I want to invest my money in. Oh, I’d be a fool, I know, not to have a nice herd, but I want to raise horses, and I want to race them.”

He leaned forward, his hands on his knees and an almost mischievous little-boy grin on his face. “There’s something I neglected to tell you, Tess. The truth is, I never gambled in my life till after my sainted wife died. She was a Christian woman of strong faith. Her father was a Methodist minister, and she was raised very strictly, and, as much as I believe she loved me, I know beyond a doubt she would have left me had I ever picked up the first card.”

“Then when did you start playing?” From time to time during the journey he had taken a deck of cards from his pocket to shuffle idly.

“It was shortly after she passed away. Some friends of mine invited me to join them in a weekly game to try and get my mind off my grief. I have to admit I lost a lot of money in the beginning, but I gradually learned to play.”

“So you tired of poker and want to bet on horses instead.”

“Not exactly.” Sadness dropped over his face like a veil. “I’m just lonely, Tess. I need something to do. I’m a rich man but have nothing to spend my money on, because I have everything I need—except happiness.

“And everyone knows money can’t buy that,” he concluded with a wry grin.

Still curious about his dealings with Curt, Tess was not about to let Wendell get away from that subject once he brought it up. “So how is Curt going to help you?”

The instant she said it, she knew she had erred.

And Wendell did not fail to notice. “You know his first name? Then you must be well acquainted with him.”

“Not exactly,” she lied. “He owns the land adjoining mine. We had some dissent over it, but nothing came of it.”

Except a ruling in court
, she frowned to remember,
thank God, in
my
favor
.

“Then you know he plans to raise quarter horses.”

“I’m afraid we aren’t good neighbors, Wendell. We don’t have anything to do with each other.”

“I see. What a pity. Well,” he continued, “as for him helping me, I offered him a job, but he’s much too busy with his own place. He did say, however, that when he goes to south Texas in the next month or so to see about buying a brood mare from a man named King, he’ll ask if any of the men there who know about raising horses might be looking for work.”

“Curt is going to buy a horse from Richard King?” Tess asked, stunned. She did not think he had that kind of money.

Wendell regarded her with surprise once more. “You know Mr. King, too?”

“Oh, no, not at all. But everyone knows he’s probably the most important rancher in the state. Maybe even the whole West. I’m just surprised to hear Curt can afford to buy a horse from him, because I understand they’re very expensive.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. He didn’t appear to be worried about it.”

And she should not be, either, she chided herself, and changed the subject to the one foremost in her mind. “I hope Perry isn’t frightened not to have heard from me. If only we could have sent him a telegram from Dallas to let him know I’m on my way.”

“The dispatcher said he would keep trying. I gather the inability to transmit is not an uncommon problem out here. They say Indians keep cutting the lines.”

Tess shivered to think about it. “How long before we get there?”

“About an hour sooner than the last time you asked me.” He smiled.

Tess apologized, “I don’t mean to be a bother. You’re so very kind, I shouldn’t annoy you with my worries.”

He leaned over to clasp her hands. “I want you to know that you never annoy me, my dear. And you certainly aren’t a bother. I’m just grateful you allowed me to feel useful.”

“You
are
,” she assured. “And you’re also a dear and treasured friend.”

He patted her hands and drew back. “Tell me about Perry. What kind of boy is he? Will he like the rugged life out here? Will he like horses and cows?”

Her face glowed to think of the brother she adored and missed so terribly. “Oh, he’ll love everything. The first thing I’m going to teach him to do is ride a horse. He’s old enough to help out on the range.

“And he’s a good boy,” she assured him. “He was always so obedient. Never gave me any trouble at all. We were very close. I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to bring him out here before he became so miserable with Aunt Elmina that he ran away.”

“He was very brave to do that.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I think
stubborn
is more like it, because he probably takes after me.”

“Well, I don’t find you stubborn, Tess. I find you very genial…and very pretty,” he added shyly.

“And you,” she said, “are too kind. But my being stubborn is actually a trait I never knew I had until I came west. So many people told me I didn’t belong here, but I was determined to show them I did. But now…” she fell silent, embarrassed over her current dilemma.

“I know about the bank turning you down for a loan,” he reminded her. “So you can tell me everything.”

She gave a helpless shrug. “There’s really nothing to tell. I lost most of my herd to the freezing weather, and my only hired hand left. I’m out of money and can’t get the remainder of my herd to market to make money to buy more cattle and get me through another year. And if that’s not enough, I have this worry with Perry.”

“We’re taking care of that. As for your other problems, we’ll deal with those, too.”

Tess shook her head, unclear as to his meaning.

He understood her confusion. “I mean I am going to help you, my dear.”

“I…I can’t let you do that,” she stammered.

He furrowed his brow in a mock frown. “You really are stubborn, aren’t you? You just won’t get it through that lovely head of yours that you are doing me a favor by allowing me to feel needed. What good is my money if I can’t help you?

“Besides,” he said with a grin, “I’m lonesome, remember? So you better be careful”—he wagged a finger in warning—“because when this is all over and we get you and your brother safely back to your ranch, I just might turn out to be a real pest.”

“You could never be a pest, Wendell, and you’ll always be welcome. But I can’t accept money from you.”

“Why not? You were wanting to borrow from the bank, weren’t you? So why can’t I make you a loan instead? I will invest in your ranch, see that you have what you need to get your cows to market, and when you’re on your feet again, you can pay me back. Meanwhile, I’ll call on you from time to time to see how you’re doing, and, if you take pity on a hungry old curmudgeon, I won’t turn down the offer of a home-cooked meal.”