To Reap and to Sow (6 page)

If Clint had been looking for some peace and quiet, he certainly found it on the Petrowski farm. There was just something different about being on that much property owned and maintained by a man who cared about it. The rest of the world might seem wild, untamed and harsh, but the acres surrounded by such a meticulously tended fence were anything but.

Every patch of dirt had been turned over.

Every tree was in a row.

Not one weed could be seen.

Even the buildings in middle all looked as if they'd been painted on a canvas rather than pieced together using hammer and nails. As he followed Wes and Lynn around the place, Clint took in the sights and pulled in the air.

It was more than enough to bring a contented smile to his face.

“You can put that horse right in there,” Wes said as he pointed to a building that was about half the size of the barn. “Take whatever stall you like and help yourself to anything else you need.”

For a moment, Clint had forgotten he was leading Eclipse. The reins simply hung from his fist, and the Darley Arabian followed behind as if he'd been lulled into the same contented daze as Clint. Shaking himself awake, Clint nodded and turned toward the stable.

“So where's Tina?” Lynn asked anxiously. “I thought I would've seen her by now.”

“She should be back in an hour or so,” Wes replied. “She went into town to get a new dress and Lord only knows what else. Once she gets to the store, she just loses track of everything else.”

Lynn laughed and said something, but Clint couldn't make out what it was. He'd reached the stable by now, and even though the main doors were open, the sturdy wooden structure was built well enough to keep out most sound as well as the wind.

There were a few horses and a pair of mules in there, which left five empty stalls. All Clint needed to do was walk down the middle of the stable and wait for Eclipse to drift toward one stall. The stallion wasn't about to break free, but he did look toward one stall instead of any of the others.

“Not too often you get your pick like that, huh, boy?” Clint said as he took Eclipse into the stall and began unhitching the saddle. “Looks like you'll be eating well for a while. Don't get too used to it. I don't have much use for a fat horse.”

Eclipse settled in right away and started drinking from the trough before even looking at the hay beside it. After closing the stall's gate, Clint took a slow walk around to get a look at the rest of the animals in there.

All the horses were well cared for and strong. Even the mules seemed to be from fine stock, but that was surely because they saw plenty of work. By the time he got back to the main doors, Clint had a better idea of what Wes Petrowski was like as a person. A lot could be learned about a man by seeing how he treated his horses. So far, Wes seemed just as hospitable as he looked.

Clint took a few steps outside and found Wes and Lynn leaning against a hitching post and talking. While he didn't have anything against some leisurely conversation, Clint was enjoying his relaxing walk. Soon, he found himself wandering toward the barn and taking a look inside.

The barn looked like most others, although it was as well kept as the rest of the place. Clint had to smirk at the meticulous way every tool was in its spot and gleaming, as if every pitchfork's tong and every ax blade had just been polished. If not for all the care that had been shown to every little thing in there, Clint might have overlooked the messy pile of rags in the back corner.

Walking with his hands in his pockets, Clint made his way to the rags like a hound dog following an intriguing scent. As he stepped up to the pile, Clint looked around the wall above it for any lanterns or hooks where a lantern might hang. The last thing he wanted to think about was a good man like Wes losing a fine barn like this due to a careless fire being set.

There were no hooks and no lanterns close enough to be a worry. That much, at least, put Clint's mind to rest on the subject.

But Clint's mind wasn't at rest.

In fact, he couldn't get his eyes off those rags. Something about the way they were just piled up there so carelessly made them stick out like a sore thumb. Clint looked around at the rest of the barn just to satisfy his own curiosity. He wasn't about to go crawling around into every nook and cranny, but he could see more than enough to answer his question.

The rest of the barn was, indeed, as tidy as he'd first thought. Clint couldn't find one thing out of place apart from a few pieces of straw blowing across the floor or a small spot of chipped wood in one corner. Because of that, Clint found himself drawn back to the pile of rags.

He shrugged and let out a breath. It seemed the rest of him wasn't so quick to let its guard down. Too much time spent dodging bullets, he figured. It only seemed right that an hour on a quiet farm wouldn't be enough to loosen all those knots he'd gained from having to draw blood to save his own life.

Looking toward the door, Clint could hear Wes and Lynn laughing and talking some more. He decided to join them rather than spend another minute trying to figure out a pile of rags. He laughed once to himself and kicked the pile with his toe as if proving how silly his frayed instincts were.

And, with that single tap of his toe, Clint was shown just how sharp his instincts were.

The pile of rags wasn't exactly what it seemed. In fact, the rags weren't piled up at all. They were covering something. Clint's boot had moved a few of them just enough for him to get a look at what they covered.

“Good Lord,” he whispered as his eyes caught the sparkle of gold under the rags.

He nudged the pile again to find underneath the rags a hunk of gold almost as big as his head. It was enough gold to steal the breath right out of him.

Wes and Lynn didn't even notice Clint as he walked out of the barn. They were so busy swapping stories that they seemed surprised when they finally caught sight of him.

“There you are,” Lynn said. “Is Eclipse all settled in?”

Clint nodded and replied, “Yep. I just hope he doesn't get to liking it too much in there. He might get spoiled.”

“A happy horse runs faster,” Wes said. “Don't worry none about his feed, though. I don't have anything in there that'd do him any harm.”

“I'm sure you don't,” Clint said. “This is a fine place you have here.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Making sure to watch Wes carefully, Clint added, “I wandered over to get a look in your barn. Hope you don't mind.”

Wes may have flinched a bit, but it wasn't anything too serious. The older man nodded and put on a shaky smile. “If you like what you saw, I've got plenty of work for you to do.”

“I may just take you up on that,” Clint replied.

Both Lynn and Wes looked at him with an equal amount of shock on their faces. “You would?” they both asked in unison.

Clint laughed at their reaction and shrugged. “I can think of plenty worse places to spend some time. Of course, I wouldn't want to impose or go where I'm not wanted.”

Wes started walking toward the house. “You don't have to do any work around here. You're welcome to have something to eat and stay as long as you like.” When he reached the top of the steps leading to the front porch of his house, he stopped and pointed down the road. “Here comes Tina.”

Lynn spun around on the balls of her feet and pulled in a deep breath. When she saw who was driving the one-horse cart approaching the house, she let out her breath in an excited scream.

The woman driving the cart was startled at first, but quickly recognized who was screaming. Soon, she was adding to the din with an excited scream of her own and squirming as if she was about to jump down from her seat and race the horse to the house.

When Clint looked to see what Wes was doing, he saw the old man covering his ears and stepping into the house. There wasn't anything suspicious there. In fact, the more noise both women made, the more Clint couldn't blame the old man for trying to find some shelter.

“Come here and meet my friend, Clint!” Lynn said excitedly.

Before he could think of a good excuse to get into the house, Clint felt Lynn take hold of his hand and pull so hard that she nearly yanked his arm from its socket. Clint went along with her to meet the cart as it came to a stop in front of the house.

Even in her spot in the driver's seat, it was easy to tell that Tina was a good deal shorter than Lynn. Thick, black hair flowed well past her shoulders and framed a thin, petite face. A little, upturned nose complemented delicate features, which were made even prettier by the bright smile adorning her face at the moment.

Tina tossed the reins aside and jumped down from the cart so she could give Lynn a hug. “It's so great to see you!” she shouted. “I thought you might not show up.”

“I said I would, didn't I?” Lynn asked.

“Yes, but from what you told me about Mark…Let's just say I'm glad you made it here so soon.” Suddenly, Tina's eyes snapped over to Clint and some color flushed into her cheeks. “Oh. Is that…?”

“No,” Lynn said as she waved toward him. “That's not Mark. That's Clint Adams.”

Taking that as his cue, Clint leaned forward and stretched out a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

Not only did Tina take the hand Clint offered, but she held onto it and pulled herself closer to him. “Nice to meet you too, Clint.”

Tina was a small woman in her early twenties, but she had plenty of curves to make up for what she lacked in height. The dress she wore was a simple striped pattern that was buttoned to a respectable level, but it didn't do a thing to dampen the effect she had upon Clint. Her large breasts excited him as she stepped forward to look straight up into his eyes. The smoothness of her skin was inviting as she lingered there as if willing him to do more than just introduce himself.

The moment was shattered when Lynn pulled Tina away and smiled at them both. “You should have seen what Clint did to Mark,” she said. “It was better than I would have imagined.”

“And I know you imagined it a lot,” Tina said. “I sure know I did, and I never even met him.”

When Tina spun around to giggle with Lynn, Clint felt like he was in the middle of a windstorm. He could only stand there and wait for them to rush away toward the house.

Once they were gone, Clint was left by himself amid the combined scents of both women. He pulled in a breath and was reminded of both Lynn's hair and Tina's creamy shoulders. He had to shake his head to rattle himself back to the present, and when he looked at the house, he found Wes coming out of it.

“Kind of overwhelms you, don't it?” Wes asked.

Clint did his best to keep his thoughts about Wes's daughter from showing on his face. “Yeah. It sure does.”

“They've always been like that when they got together. They were terrors when they were little girls and they're just as rambunctious now.”

Chuckling under his breath, Clint shrugged and admitted, “That's not exactly how I would have put it, but you're right.”

Wes stopped before climbing down the last step that led from his porch. His eyes were focused on Clint, and his mouth had turned into a hard, straight line. Clint could imagine what was going through the farmer's head, and he waited for the old man to give those thoughts a voice.

When he finally did speak, Wes's voice was every bit as sharp as Clint had expected.

“You haven't hurt that girl, have you?” Wes asked.

That had not been what Clint was expecting. He blinked and recalled the man's question a few times to make sure he'd heard it right. Finally, Clint asked, “You think I hurt your daughter?”

“Not her,” Wes said coldly. “Lynn. I known that girl since she was knee-high to a grasshopper and she's always been sweet as pie. Maybe a little high-strung sometimes, but she's a good girl. Problem is, she don't know how to pick a good man. Tina's told me about some of the things Lynn told her and it made me sick. Are you one of those men that hurt Lynn?”

Clint could tell by the intent look in Wes's eyes that the farmer was watching Clint for any possible hint of a lie. Compared to the old man's scrutiny, most poker tables would have seemed downright hospitable.

“No,” Clint said easily and clearly. “I've never hurt Lynn and I don't intend on doing anything of the sort.”

After a few more seconds, Wes nodded. “All right, then. No hard feelings, I hope. I consider both of them girls my kin. They can be wild, but that don't mean they don't deserve someone lookin' out for 'em.”

“I agree.”

The smile that came onto Wes's face was as genuine as it was crooked. “Then come on inside. There's plenty of food to be served. I also got some home-brewed whiskey that'll curl your toes.”

Clint followed Wes inside. He kept his own questions to himself for the time being. There was no need to spoil what promised to be a very interesting supper.