Page 13 of Ask No Tomorrows

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She pulled at the shirt. “Let the aloe sink in and do its work, then you can put the shirt on. If you put it on now, it’ll just stick. Besides, those sores need some air. And stop bein’ so shy, I seen a man’s chest before.”

“Maybe, but not mine, you haven’t.”

“Well.” She smiled shyly. “You’re right there, ain’t seen a chest that pretty in my life. So are you any good at ranchin’?” she asked.

“Never did much except a little fence mendin’. I’m more a cattleman. And I ain’t pretty and don’t you be remarkin’ as such.”

“Most white men have hair on their chest. You are slick as a whistle. The aloe won’t let you scar either, so you’ll stay pretty too. Cattle, huh? Well, I got plenty of beef. If you can get me back to my ranch, Sam, I’ll hire you as my foreman.” Riley smiled.

“Oh you would, would you? That’s a pretty fool notion, you don’t even know if I’m any good,” Sam protested. “I might be the worst rancher you ever saw.”

He chucked the shirt, but moved deliberately away from her. He looked at her up and down as though deciding about her. She sure was a little misfit, but those eyes belonged to an angel, he was sure. No one could have eyes like that and not have seen heaven itself.

“I got a notion you’re good at a lot of things, Sam.” Riley laughed.

Sam’s head shot up and he eyed her again. He spit on the ground as though that’s what he thought of her ranch.

Sam studied her for a long moment, wishing more personal things didn’t come to mind with that statement. But Riley was a force to be dealt with, and Sam wasn’t sure how to handle her. “That ain’t a very lady-like thing to say.”

“I’m not trying very hard to be a lady.” Riley stared back. “You’ll get used to it, Sam; I speak my mind most of the time. I been raised like that.”

“Look, helpin’ you Riley would be like askin’ for trouble. Now…I appreciate the fact that you are healin’ me, and that you came back because of me, but I can make out just fine alone. Better in fact, without you. And you…well, it’s safe now to go into a town and tell the Sheriff or Marshall what’s happened. They think you’re dead. They aren’t gonna be lookin’ for you. All you gotta do is get to town. You’re a woman, they’d believe you,” Sam said as she put the plant down, gathered some dirt around it and packed it into a small knapsack. She tied it with ribbon and stuffed it into his saddle bags.

“Yeah, I’m a woman.” She turned around to look at him once again. “But that doesn’t mean much. The closest thing to a Sheriff in these parts is Tom Snider. He works out of the Marshall’s office from Waco; him and Waco Smith with the rangers keeps tabs on things in the area, but we don’t have a Sheriff within’ a hundred miles of us. Harry and Tom are thick as thieves. Harry’s already got him thinkin’ I don’t know anything about ranchin’,” Riley said, her brow rising with each word. “They made a real point of laughing at me the last time I was around them. So much so I couldn’t stomach them.”

“Do you?” Sam asked.

“Do I what?”

“Know anything about ranchin’?” Sam asked, staring at her. The more he looked at her, the more he liked looking. He had to find something to keep his mind off her.

“‘Course I do. I’ve been at it all my life. My daddy raised a son, not a lady. Can’t you tell?” She paused as though reflecting on it. “With Ma gone he didn’t need a lady. He taught me all there was to know about ranchin’. But Harry’s made remarks around Tom, and Tom believin’ every word too. He’s been slowly turnin’ him away from thinkin’ I can run the place. I can see all this now. It’s been building for some time. I put no stock in Harry’s ramblings before, but now I can see what it was about, I realize that I was foolish. I guess Harry had it all figured out, after my Pa died. Yeah, I can see that now. Don’t know what took me so long to figure this all out. It took him a while to plant all these wild ideas about me. How he knew more about what to do with the herd, and how to

make the ranch make money. That all I was good for is the book work. It’s the one thing Harry couldn’t do. Now that it’s too late to do any good. Daddy warned me about men before he died. Said there would be men who’d want to marry me just to get the land. And others who’d try to steal it out from under me. He was right. I just wasn’t lookin’ in the right places, is all.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s still legally yours, by your father’s will, isn’t that correct?”

“Yeah…sure.”

“Legally they can’t touch you,” Sam said. “They’d have to kill you or have you declared unable to take care of yourself. You look capable to me.”

She sighed heavily, rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Only I’m supposed to be a little bit dead, according to you. Easy enough done, Sam. How do you know so much about the law?” Riley asked.

“I don’t really. But I know enough, I studied a little while I lived on the reservation. Chase Rivers had me checkin’ out legal rights for the tribe a time or two when they went to Washington about the land rights and the reservations.”

“Why you?” she asked, turning her attention on him.

“Why me what?”

“Why did they choose you to check it out?”

He hesitated then firmed his lips and stared at her. “‘Cause I learned to read the Law books. I was taught in the mission by a Catholic priest how to read Latin. I wanted to talk to the Indians and Mexicans at the mission, make friends, figured if I learned more about their language they’d talk to me. I learned Latin and they did.”

“Were you able to help the Indians?”

“For the time being, we did.” Sam nodded. “‘Course they made new laws, and changed the treaties a time or two. It seemed like every time they had a law that would help the Indians, they soon had another that would put him in his place.” Sam checked the cinches on his horse as he hung the shovel around the saddle horn.

“Must have been exciting living with them.”


Tags: Rita Hestand Dream Catcher Romance