The Rancher Takes a Cowgirl Read online

  The Rancher

  Takes a Cowgirl

  Texas Rancher Trilogy

  Book 3

  Misty M. Beller

  To give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,

  to guide our feet into the way of peace.

  Luke 1:79 (KJV)

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Did you enjoy this book?

  Other books by Misty M. Beller

  About the Author

  Dedication and Copyright

  Chapter One

  April 10, 1876

  Double Rocking B Ranch ~ Near Seguin, Texas

  “BOSS, YOU BETTER come quick, but you’re not gonna like it.”

  Monty Dominguez scanned the stable boy’s pensive face as he reined Poncho to a halt. “Trouble?” His throat tightened as he swung to the ground.

  “Not sure. I don’t think so. Leastways not the kind yer thinkin’. Miz O’Brien needs ya in the big house.”

  As Monty turned toward the sprawling, two-story log home, his muscles stiffened. If Anna needed him, were she or the children in danger? Ill? Her husband, Jacob, had ridden the two hours to Seguin that afternoon for business, leaving care of his family with Monty, as the ranch foreman. If anything happened to them under his watch…

  He extended his stride and took the five porch steps in two leaps. Not stopping to knock, he pushed through the door and tossed his hat on the wall peg. The O’Briens always had an open-door attitude toward the ranch hands, even feeding the entire crew meals from the dining room table. But had their way of thinking put them in danger today?

  Voices drifted from the parlor, and Monty strode that direction, stopping in the doorway to let his eyes adjust to the dimness. Anna stood with the baby in her arms, speaking with another woman by the hearth.

  Both pairs of eyes turned on him and the murmuring stopped.

  “Monty.” Anna flashed an eager smile as she shifted her infant son in her arms. Did she look relieved to see him?

  Monty’s gaze scanned the other woman. At least, she might be a woman. Yes, the curves outlined by her snug leather vest were plenty feminine, and her long brown braid added to that image. But the gun belt hanging from her hips, and the men’s boots peering from beneath her leather chaps, gave a very different impression.

  Was she wearing pants? A bit of brown cotton gathered around the edges of the chaps. If that was supposed to be a split skirt, she might as well have been wearing men’s wool trousers.

  “Monty?”

  His gaze zipped back to Anna, who eyed him with both brows raised. He must have missed whatever she’d said. “Sorry. What?”

  “I’d like you to meet Miss Harper. She’s just arrived from California and is hiring on to be one of our cowpunchers. You said you’re looking for two more, right?”

  Monty’s mind struggled to make sense of her statement. He wasn’t always such a simpleton, but the words Miss and cowpuncher didn’t usually apply to the same person. Surely Anna didn’t mean this woman planned to herd cattle with his men.

  He scuffed the wooden floor with a boot and flicked his gaze back to the unfamiliar woman. Her hair had a wild look to it, with stray wisps flying out from the braid, and a flat line around her crown like she’d recently been wearing a hat. A man’s hat. Not the frilly kind women pinned on these days. Her face held a tan, especially across her lower cheeks and that strong pointed chin. She obviously wasn’t a stranger to the sun.

  But his focus kept coming back to those blue eyes, clear enough to be seen all the way across the room. Although the glare emanating from them might have something to do with their visibility.

  “Monty.” Anna’s voice had quieted, and held a bit of a warning this time. She expected him to speak, and the tone of her voice told him her patience was wearing out quickly.

  “Ma’am.” He nodded toward the newcomer, then turned his focus back to Anna. “Would you mind a private word, Mrs. O’Brien?” Anna and Jacob were quite casual with their workers, Jacob even punching cattle with the men at times. But Monty never had gotten use to the idea of calling them by their given names in front of strangers.

  Anna shot Miss Harper an apologetic look. “Please make yourself at home, Grace. I’ll just pour a cup of coffee for Monty and be right back.” She motioned toward the settee, then turned a steely glare on Monty as she swept toward him. The impact of her anger was softened though, when the babe in her arms gurgled and waved at Monty as they passed. Little Martin was a cute niño. At three months old, he’d learned to smile and squeal, and put both to good use now that he saw “Uncle Monty.”

  He gave a nod to the stranger, who still stood by the hearth, straight as a corral post. Then Monty turned on his heel and followed in Anna’s icy wake toward the kitchen.

  When they’d both entered the room in the rear of the house, Anna pushed the door shut behind them and spun to face him with a swish of skirts. Her face had heated a bright pink, with darker splashes covering her cheeks. And those brown eyes sparked fire. “What’s wrong with you?”

  How had the presence of that strange woman turned his boss’s placid wife so temperamental? He could count on one hand the times he’d seen Anna lose her temper. Even when she’d first hired on to the ranch as cook seven years ago, before she married Jacob O’Brien and become doña of the place.

  He dipped his head, showing respect but also picking through his thoughts to find the right words. “I’m still tryin’ to figure the situation. What exactly are you askin’ me to do with that woman?”

  “Use her as one of your cow hands, Monty. Didn’t you hear me in there?”

  He scanned her face, he even tilted his head a bit to see if the angle helped. Cause there was obviously something here he wasn’t seeing. “A woman? Working cattle?”

  She let out a breath. “She’s had a hard background. I don’t know all the specifics, but she says she’s been working cattle for more than nine years now. I think she can do the job, Monty, I do. Give her a chance.”

  She was really serious about this. Monty swallowed. How was he going to have a woman out working with the rest of the men? They knew how to bide their manners around the house, but out in the pastures they were pretty much rough-necks. That would have to end though, if this woman came on board. And where would she sleep? Certainly not in the bunkhouse with the boys.

  “She can have a bedroom in the house here.” Anna must have read his mind. “Or… I know.” The babe started to fuss and she raised him to her shoulder. “What about the old bunkhouse?”

  He pinched his mouth. “It leaks. Haven’t been able to spare men for the repairs yet. Besides, I need it when we hire extra help next month.”

  Anna shrugged. “She can stay in the house then.”

  Nothing about this situation felt right. He was being forced to hire a woman as one of his cow hands. Who ever heard of such a thing? What had that lady done to convince Anna so thoroughly? And the mere fact that Anna would consider doing the hiring… Not even Jacob tried to usurp Monty’s decisions about who did and didn’t work with the cattle. That was the job of the ranc
h foreman, after all.

  Letting out a long breath, he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “When do you want her to start?”

  A ray of sunshine lit Anna’s face. “We’ll let her get settled in today, then she can begin work in the morning.”

  Monty nodded as he turned away. If he had to say yes now, so be it. But when Jacob came home, surely he could talk some sense into his wife.

  ~ ~ ~

  MONTY EASED INTO his chair at the dinner table that night along with the rest of the boys. It still didn’t feel right, sitting at the end of the table, where Jacob’s pa had always reigned. But when the older man passed away three years ago, Jacob insisted Monty take the seat, while Jacob still sat at the other end of the oversize table.

  A chair that was empty at the moment. The man had made it back from town, but the rumble of voices from the kitchen must mean he was helping Anna settle the children.

  The rest of the boys were here though, along with the new female Anna hired, filling the empty chair between Santiago and Jesse. What was her name? Miss Harper, or something like that. The cow hands were eyeing her curiously, so Monty would have to introduce her soon. What a bunch of flack he’d get for hiring the woman. Maybe they’d at least hold their tongues until they were out of the big house.

  He could hope.

  Jacob stepped from the kitchen, followed by Mama Sarita, the ranch cook and housekeeper. He took his place at the far end of the table while the older woman settled a heaping plate of tortillas in an empty spot on the pecan wood surface. A savory aroma wafted from three oversize pots of Shepherd’s pie, sending his stomach into a hungry knot.

  Mama Sarita scuttled back toward the kitchen, and Jacob quickly scanned the faces around the table, his gaze ending on the new woman. “Anna’s with the children, so I reckon’ we’ll say grace.”

  Jacob kept the prayer succinct and heartfelt, as usual. With his “Amen,” the boys dove into the food, elbows flying as they loaded plates and started stuffing their gizzards.

  Monty couldn’t help but watch Miss Harper for her reaction to the scene. His boys worked hard, and mealtime was the favorite part of most days. They tended to be a bit overeager until their stomachs filled some. The sight had scared off more than one visitor from town, although Jacob and Anna insisted that the whole crew continue eating with the family.

  Miss Harper’s eyes didn’t widen as he’d expected. They narrowed, taking in the lay of the land. Then with a quick hand, she snagged a tortilla from the serving plate as Santiago scooped it off the table.

  The cow hand paused, his brows lifting as though he’d forgotten the strange woman beside him. Then a touch of red crept up his sun-roughened neck. “Sorry, ma’am.” He held out the plate like a gift, and she nodded as she took a second tortilla. Santiago then reached out and scooped up the serving spoon from the nearest pot of shepherd’s pie, and offered it to Miss Harper.

  Her face softened and a corner of her mouth tipped toward the rough cowpoke. The first hint of a smile Monty had seen from her. Much nicer than the ridiculous grin that spread over Santiago’s dark features.

  Something hard struck Monty’s leg under the table. He turned to eye Donato, one of his cousins and a longstanding hand on the Double Rocking B. Donato was just a few years older than Monty, and now raised an eyebrow at him. Monty returned the expression, and Donato gave a little jerk of his head down the table toward Miss Harper.

  Monty let out a breath, his shoulders drooping as the air left him. Yes, it was time he made introductions. Before the men turned stupid around her. They obviously didn’t see enough females during their days herding cattle. Well, that was about to change. But he’d be drawn and quartered before he let any sparkin’ happen on his payroll.

  He cleared his throat. Aside from the clatter of forks, the room quieted as sixteen pairs of eyes turned toward him. Including Jacob’s. “Reckon’ ya’ll should meet the new cowhand.” He nodded toward the woman. “Miss Harper joined on today. She’ll be ridin’ out with us tomorrow.”

  Every bit of noise in the room ceased, and several jaws dropped. Manuel crossed himself and mumbled something under his breath. Jacob was the first to move again, as he scooped up a fork full of mashed potatoes and dipped his chin to eat it. He didn’t meet Monty’s gaze, just focused on his food.

  What did he think about his wife’s new hire? Surely she’d told him before dinner, because he hadn’t seemed surprised to see the woman at the table. But his lack of communication now spoke volumes. After the meal was over, Monty would pin the man down and get some answers. There were too many things he wasn’t being told about Miss Harper.

  Donato was the first to speak as he looked down the table and nodded toward the lady. “Welcome, ma’am.” Good ol’ Donato. The man had long been his right hand on the ranch. And a good friend besides.

  The others responded in kind, and Miss Harper offered a few nods and a “Nice to meet you all.”

  And that was about the last word spoken during the meal. As soon as the plates were scraped clean, the men stood and excused themselves.

  Within minutes, the only people left in the room with him were Jacob and Miss Harper. Monty pushed from the table and stood.

  “Mr. Dominguez, do you have any instructions for me?” The voice was very female, but strong. Like it could carry across a herd of lowing cattle.

  Monty turned to face the woman. “Be ready to ride out after breakfast. You’ll be assigned horses then.”

  “All right.” She stood there another minute, her blue eyes watching him. Her braid lay over her shoulder, but neater now than it had been earlier. But why was he noticing that kind of thing?

  He pulled his gaze from the woman to his boss, who stood and pushed in his chair. “Jacob, do you have a minute?”

  A smile tugged at Jacob’s mouth. “I do. You want coffee in the office?”

  Monty nodded. Jacob must know what was coming since he picked the most private room in the house.

  A motion pulled at the corner of his gaze, but Monty forced his eyes not to track Miss Harper’s progress as she strode past him and out the door.

  Chapter Two

  “I HAVE TO know what’s going on, Jacob. This doesn’t feel right.” Monty stared out the window into the darkness, watching the flicker of lantern light in the barn outside. Juan must still be settling in the horses for the night. Or Chester, the stable boy, milking the cow.

  Monty turned back to face Jacob, who relaxed in one of the two upholstered chairs along the empty library wall. This man had been like a brother to him, ever since Monty showed up at the O’Brien ranch at twelve years old, orphaned and hungry. Jacob’s Pa had been Monty’s in every way that mattered, teaching them both how to raise cattle and care for the land.

  He couldn’t imagine a better life than the one he lived now, here on the Double Rocking B, working alongside his best friend. Most days, anyway.

  It was nice to see Jacob settled and happy. Anna was perfect for him. Not that the rest of the hands hadn’t taken a strong liking to her in the beginning, Monty chief among them. But it’d been clear from the start she had eyes for no one but Jacob. The battle was over before the rest of them had half a chance.

  But that seemed to be the way of things when it came to him and women. Every time a possible prospect came along, she was snapped up before he could gather his breath to say howdy.

  Jacob shrugged, but met Monty’s eye squarely. “I really don’t know, Monty.”

  Monty had to blink to pull himself back to the conversation.

  His friend kept talking, though. “Anna said the lady needs a job. Came from a tough situation in California.”

  A growl found its way up Monty’s throat. “What tough situation? The kind with trouble that’ll follow her here?” If she brought danger to the O’Brien family, he’d personally make her pay.

  Jacob’s brows pulled together. “I doubt anything would follow her a thousand miles from California to Texas. It didn’t sound like she was
in trouble with the law. Anna wouldn’t have hired her if that were the case.” He sighed and sank back in the chair, cradling his coffee mug with both hands. “I’m sorry Anna stepped on your toes by doing the hiring. I trust her instincts, though. If she thought Miss Harper would be good here, don’t you think we could give her a try?”

  What could Monty say to that? He scrubbed a hand through his hair and turned back to the window. “I guess.”

  Looked like he didn’t have a choice. He’d definitely keep an eye on the woman. And if there was any inkling her secrets would put the O’Brien family or the ranch in danger, she’d be out like a squirrel ahead of a pack of hungry coyote.

  ~ ~ ~

  GRACE STARED AT herself in the mirror over the dressing table in the early morning light, trying to see her reflection the way the others would. Her bandana was the same as the men wore. Her vest, too, although she’d had to take it up considerably to fit snug enough so it didn’t interfere when she swung a lariat. She’d not seen the other men wearing gun belts, but she wasn’t about to be caught without her Colt single action army revolver. There was too much chance he’d followed her.

  She tucked a strand of dark brown hair back in her braid, then picked up her hat from the table’s surface. Mr. Dominguez had seemed none too pleased to add her to the payroll yesterday. But surely when he saw how she could work right alongside the men, he’d settle in to the idea.

  He wasn’t what she’d expected either, though. Those brooding eyes and dark features. And young. Well, maybe not young. But not half as old as Rusty, the foreman on Papa’s ranch for as far back as she could remember.

  Grace swallowed down a burn in her throat. She wouldn’t be working with Rusty anymore. Not ever. So she’d best buckle down and win over the new boss. Gripping her hat brim, she pulled open the bedroom door.

  Breakfast was another quiet affair, just like dinner had been the night before. The men seemed uneasy. Because of her? Or because they were all piled into the fancy dining room in the big house? She’d never seen a ranch where the hired help ate with the family. Back in California, theirs and every other ranch around fed the cow hands under a lean-to off the cook house.