Obie aimed his stubbly chin at Gordie. “This here’s Ty Donner. He’s been locked away in that big prison in Laramie.”
Josie wanted to wipe the smirk off Obie’s face. The man had no right to gloat, though why she felt protective of Ty she didn’t want to know.
Next to her, Ty shrugged. “I’m out now.”
“I can see that,” Obie answered.
Ty indicated the man’s cigarette. “Mind if I bum a smoke?”
Obie hurled his tobacco pouch with too much force. Ty snagged it with one hand. Obie smirked. “Help yourself.”
“I’ll do that.” Ty sounded friendly, but instead of opening the pouch, he threw it as far as he could into a meadow full of tall grass. The blades waved, then went still.
Obie called Ty a foul name.
With his hands loose, Ty stepped up to the hired man, snatched the cigarette from his lips and ground it into the dirt. With his eyes narrowed, he glared at Obie. “If I ever catch you smoking by this barn again, you’re fired.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Josie didn’t know whether to cheer for Ty, be mad he’d presumed the power to fire anyone, or to smooth the waters with Obie. Lazy or not, she needed her hired hands. Ty was a hard worker, but he couldn’t do the work of three men. At the same time, she couldn’t let Obie control the situation. Like it or not, she had to trust Ty.
Obie spat on the ground. The brownish glob landed on the hem of her skirt. Gasping with disgust, she stepped back.
Ty grabbed Obie by the collar and lifted him to his toes. “A lady deserves respect. You owe Miss Bright an apology.”
Obie snorted.
Ty lifted him higher. “What does that mean?”
“Mizz Bright’s no lady.”
Josie blanked her face, but she felt the sting of Obie’s words. As the boss of the Bar JB, she’d learned to be tough. She drove hard bargains and wore trousers when she worked. She liked pretty things as much as any woman, but she’d traded lace for denim and hat pins for a Stetson. She’d also traded a wedding dress for a broken heart, and she had a ranch to run. For the sake of getting the work done, she could ignore Obie’s insults.
Ty, it seemed, had no such inclination. Using both hands, he hurled Obie against the barn. Obie hit with a thud but came back swinging. Ty ducked, then landed a roundhouse punch that sent Obie to the ground. Gordie cussed, then swung at Ty. The blow landed on Ty’s jaw and snapped back his head.
“Stop it!” Josie cried.
Obie lumbered to his feet. Fists flew and curses filled the air. Ty lost his hat and blood spilled from a cut on his jaw, but he didn’t seem to care. Josie knew better than to get in the middle of headstrong males, either bovine or human. Furious, she paced to the water trough on the side of the barn, filled a bucket and lugged it back around the corner. Gordie was on his knees and heaving, so she hurled it at Ty and Obie. As the water fanned from the bucket, Ty landed a blow to Obie’s chin. The hired hand stumbled backward, leaving Ty to take the brunt of the water.
“What the—” he stopped in midsentence and stared at her.
Josie’s cheeks flamed. Dousing Ty alone had been unfair. He’d started the fight, but he’d done it to defend her honor. Judging by the marks on his face, he was destined for a black eye, maybe two. Obie was sitting on the ground, wiping blood from his nose and glaring at her as she set down the empty bucket. He lumbered to his feet and spat a mouthful of blood. “I quit.”
“Me, too,” Gordie added.
Josie panicked. “But—”
Ty interrupted. “Get out of here. Now.”
“Mizz Bright owes us wages,” Obie complained.
A full month’s pay… She’d gone to the bank because she couldn’t meet the obligation without holding back on the bill at the mercantile. Would the juggling ever stop? She was getting ready to negotiate with Obie when Ty looked at her. “How much do you owe these fools?”
Josie knew his thinking. He intended to pay off Obie and Gordie for her. She didn’t want to owe him a favor. “This isn’t your problem.”
“How much?” he repeated.
Gordie answered for her. “We get twenty dollars a month each.”
Ty went to his horse and opened the saddlebag. He came back with a money pouch, removed a few bills and paid Gordie and Obie. Gordie took the money and stepped back. Obie snatched two sawbucks and glared at Ty. “You owe me for the smokes.”
“Sure.” Ty dug in the money pouch, removed some pennies and tossed them on the ground.
Obie looked at the money, spat again, then glared at Ty. “You’re gonna pay for this, Donner.”
“I expect so.”
“I mean it,” Obie insisted. “I’m going to get even with you.”
Obie glared at Ty, picked up the coins, then motioned for Gordie to follow him to the bunkhouse. With Ty shadowing them, the men packed their things and saddled their horses. Josie didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. She needed help, but Obie and Gordie had given her nothing but grief. As the men led their mounts out of the barn, Ty came to stand at her side. When Obie and Gordie disappeared over a hill, Ty started to chuckle.
Josie wasn’t in the mood to laugh. “What on earth is so funny?”
In spite of the bruises and wet shirt, Ty looked pleased with himself. “I always did like a good fight.”
“That was good?”
“One of the best.” His expression turned serious. “Obie disrespected you, Josie. I won’t tolerate it.”
Five years ago, he’d disrespected her when he’d gone after the Scudders. Before he’d taken off, they’d quarreled and it hadn’t been a small argument. She’d begged him to consider her feelings, but he’d dismissed her worries and ridden off. He could apologize a hundred times, but nothing could erase the humiliation of standing in church in her wedding dress, waiting…and waiting…and waiting…until Nate delivered the news.
Josie snatched up the bucket. She wasn’t sorry she’d doused Ty after all. Thanks to the scuffle, she’d lost her hired hands and she owed Ty for their wages. The debt shamed her. “I’ll pay you back when I can.”
“Forget it.”
“I can’t.”
As she stepped toward the trough, Ty tugged the bucket away from her. “I’m going to need that.” He bent and picked up his hat, slapped off the dust and passed her on the way to the trough. Josie wanted to leave, but his cuts needed attention, maybe even a stitch or two. He’d earned them defending her, so she followed him. When he dipped the bucket in the water, she removed a hankie from her pocket and indicated the bench next to the barn.
“Sit,” she ordered.
He obeyed so suddenly she startled. The old Ty would have teased her. The new one had learned to take orders from prison guards. This subservient man wasn’t the Ty Donner who’d chased after the Scudders. The change shook her up, mostly because she didn’t like it. She should have been glad he’d lost his arrogance. Instead she ached for what he’d experienced behind bars.
She dipped her handkerchief in the water, cupped the back of his head and dabbed at the cut. His hair, warm from the sun, tickled her fingers. She couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to