“Yes,” she said. “You don’t have to hesitate to talk about birthing with me. I’m not afraid to talk about babies, mine or anything else’s. I understand them. Cattle are what scare me.”
He chuckled. “Cattle are big babies, if you ask me. Won’t listen to what you tell them. Want their own way. Then they look at you all sweet like, and you know they have you right where they want you.”
“Well, if cattle are babies, I’ll be running this ranch in no time,” she told him, offering him a smile.
He stared at her mouth as if she’d done something amazing. Was a smile so important? Or was hers that special to him?
Even as her cheeks heated under his regard, he turned and gazed down the long drive toward the wrought iron gates that marked the edge of the Windy Diamond.
“Someone’s coming,” he said, standing. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Nancy asked as he stepped down from the porch and headed for the barn.
“To get my shooting iron.”
A flutter started in her stomach, and she pressed a hand against her waist to still it. Did he think it was outlaws? Some other kind of trouble?
It couldn’t be Sheriff Fuller again. She’d been grateful he had been considerate when he’d returned to question her further about Lucas. She only regretted she hadn’t been any help to the lawman. She truly hadn’t known a thing about her husband’s shady business dealings. It seemed to her she hadn’t even known her husband.
She was just glad to recognize the occupants of the wagon that rattled onto the flat before the house. Edmund McKay, a tall, serious-looking rancher who had a spread to the southwest of town, was at the reins, and her friend Lula May sat beside him. Lula May gave her an airy wave, then gathered her blue cotton skirts. Though the young widow was perfectly capable of climbing down, Mr. McKay came around and lifted her from the bench. His gaze seemed to linger on hers before he released her.
Now, there was a sight. Only a month or so ago Nancy and Molly Thorn had teased Lula May about refusing to let Edmund help her down. Now there was a tenderness between her friend and the rancher that tugged at Nancy’s bruised heart. It seemed she’d missed a romance in the last couple weeks she’d been staying close to the ranch. The thought made her smile, but the frown on Mr. McKay’s face as he walked toward her set her stomach to fluttering again.
She scolded herself for the reaction. Edmund McKay had never struck her as a harsh man. He might even be accounted handsome with his chiseled features, hair the color of the sandy soil, and dark coat emphasizing his muscular build. He walked with the confidence of a man at rest with his conscience. Lula May, who was tall for a woman, looked positively petite at his side, her strawberry blonde hair confined behind her head, blue eyes crinkling around the corners with her smile.
“Nancy,” she said, climbing the porch to enfold her in a hug. “I was hoping you might feel up to company today.” She cast a glance at Edmund as if to encourage him to speak. He yanked the brown Stetson from his head.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said with a nod that seemed respectful enough. “How are you faring?” The way he shifted on his feet told her she wasn’t the only one concerned about this meeting. She resolved to welcome him all the same.
“We’re faring well, thank you, Mr. McKay,” she told him. “Mr. Snowden sees to the ranch for me, along with Billy Jenks and Mr. Upkins. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
Edmund nodded. “They’re a good bunch. Sheriff Fuller said they were real helpful making sure there were no more stolen cattle on the range.”
All her good intentions vanished, and Nancy cringed despite herself. “I’m so sorry, Mr. McKay. I had no idea Lucas was stealing.”
“There, now,” Lula May said, reaching out a hand. “I told the other members of the Lone Star Cowboy League that you had nothing to do with any of it.”
That only made her feel worse. She’d appreciated her neighbors’ efforts in banding together to help each other in times of need. But Lucas had shrugged off the idea.
“Any fool knows it’s every man for himself out here,” he’d scoffed. Still, he’d agreed to let Hank represent their interests in the league. She’d thought Lucas was merely trying to do his civic duty. Now she was fairly sure he’d used the information the cowboy brought him to help plan his thieving.
“She convinced us,” Edmund was saying, with a glance to Lula May that was all pride. “There isn’t a man—”
“Or a woman,” Lula May put in.
“Who holds you accountable,” Edmund finished.
Nancy drew in a breath. How easy it was to latch on to their forgiveness. A shame she could not forgive herself.
“Thank you,” she said. “But I should have realized what was happening. I should have warned the league, told the sheriff. Because I was blind, you all suffered. I’m so sorry.”
The clink of spurs told her Hank had returned.
“No call to be sorry,” he said, stepping onto the porch behind Edmund. “If there’s anyone to blame for this mess, it’s me.”
* * *
Edmund McKay shook his head, and Lula May, as she’d asked the league members to call her, had that lightning sparking in her eyes again, but Hank knew he spoke the truth. McKay knew it too. He’d been there the day they’d caught Lucas Bennett with a whole herd of cattle not his own.
The members of the Lone Star Cowboy League had been trying to discover who had been stealing cattle from the area. The rustler had hit nearly every spread for miles around, caused a fire that had leveled the Carson barn. But it had taken Lula May to put the pieces together. And the picture she painted had made Hank sick.
His boss was the rustler, and Hank had unknowingly fed him the information to plot the thefts.
When Sheriff Fuller offered to deputize Hank, McKay and another local rancher named Abe Sawyer to go with the lawman after Lucas Bennett, Hank hadn’t hesitated. He’d ridden with the other men to confront his boss. Hank had been pretty sure where the man was hiding, in a box canyon on the spread. But when they found him with more than three dozen head of cattle, Bennett and McKay had squared off, with Bennett drawing fast. The sheriff and Hank had both fired at the same time. Hank knew which shot had hit home.
Nancy Bennett was a widow, and it was all his fault. He was about ready to admit it, take his licks as his due.
But she turned on him, hands going to the curve of her hips. “Nonsense, Mr. Snowden,” she said, hazel eyes wide. “You’re the best hand my husband ever had. He told me so himself.”
He felt as if she’d twisted a knife in his gut. He’d always prided himself on doing a good job, but the fact that Lucas Bennett had bragged on him only made Hank’s betrayal worse.
He tugged the hat off his hair. “Just doing my duty, ma’am. I’m glad to see other folks come out to help, as well.” He nodded to Lula May and the rancher.
“Anything you need,”
