“There’s a ranch south a’ town that’s come vacant recently,” her father said. “The owner died.”
Caroline knew he was referring to the Waters place, next to her friends Nick and Milly Brookfield’s ranch. Old Mr. Waters had died in a Comanche attack two years back, while his nephew from the east, who had inherited it, had fallen victim to a murderous bunch of men bent on taking over the area this summer. The Comanches had damaged the ranch house badly, but the conspirators had finished the job, burning it to the ground, along with the Simpson Creek church.
“No buildings on it just now, but you and your men had reckoned on camping out anyway. Seems to me it’d be a perfect place for you to stay the winter, then make a fresh start in the spring,” Mr. Wallace went on. “The bank is trustee for the property, since the heir back east wants no part of it.”
“And they’d be willing for us to keep the herd there for the winter? How much would they want as rent?”
“Probably not much—maybe even nothing. If you and your cowboys built a cabin there, you’d have a dry, warm roof over your heads, and your cattle would have a place to stay.” Her father spread his hands. “Sounds like a perfect solution to me.”
Well, it didn’t sound perfect to Caroline. She’d liked the idea of keeping Jack’s appealing children till he sent for them, but the prospect of having the man himself anywhere near, a man who looked like Pete but could never be Pete, rankled. Besides, she hadn’t forgotten that Jack had taken back the ring Pete had given her. And there was a disturbing feeling of attraction she’d felt instantly for him, the same attraction that had led her to blurt out during their confrontation at the schoolhouse that he was handsome.
Now as she felt his gaze swing toward her, she turned to stare out the window, lowering her hand below the table so he wouldn’t see her touching the empty space on her finger where the ring had been.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jack scratch his chin. “I dunno… .”
“It wouldn’t hurt for you to talk to the bank president, see what the terms would be,” her father said reasonably.
None of them had heard the twins creep back into the room until they exploded around their father, jumping and shrieking.
“Papa, do it! Stay on that ranch!”
“Yeah, Papa, then you wouldn’t have to travel in cold weather!”
“I don’t know, girls… .”
It was the most reasonable plan, Caroline thought with irritation. Was Jack too proud, or pigheaded, to see it? Why was he hesitating?
“I’ll have to think on it, Punkins,” he said, gathering them into his arms and kissing each on the tops of their heads.
Her throat tightened. He was obviously an affectionate father who cared for his children. How could he love them yet be willing to either expose them to danger on the trail or leave them for months on end? They were excited to have him stay nearby now, but wasn’t that postponing what would be a painful separation in the spring? Why had he sold the ranch in south Texas?
She burned with questions, but held her tongue. As a result, the evening passed pleasantly enough, with Dan agreeably playing games with the twins while Jack and her father sat reminiscing about the war years, her mother knitting and Caroline sitting silently, listening. As an older man, her father had joined the home guard, rather than the regular army, and had spent the war protecting Texans against the depredations of the Indians. Jack had served with General Hood, rising to the rank of major before the war was over.
When the clock struck nine, her mother rose. “Girls, let’s arrange your beds on the summer porch. We can make up your father’s bed there, too. I’ll put out some quilts, but it’s still plenty warm at night, so you’ll be comfortable.”
Abigail and Amelia followed her eagerly, and Caroline guessed they found it a treat not to be sleeping out in the open for a change. The rain had stopped, but the ground would surely have been muddy.
“I’m tired. Reckon I’ll turn in,” her father said, yawning as he stood up. “You, too, Dan, since you have to be at the livery at sunrise.”
Caroline stared after her father, wishing she could call him back. What could he be thinking, leaving me alone with this man? Can’t he sense the distrust between Jack and me? She didn’t want to admit, even to herself, the feeling of attraction that lay between them, too. She should have gone with her mother and the girls to help make up the beds on the porch, but it was too late. If she left to do that now, she’d obviously be fleeing Jack’s presence, and Caroline wasn’t about to let it look that way.
Jack watched her father and brother go. Then, when the sound of their doors closing echoed in the parlor, he turned to Caroline.
“Can we call a truce, Miss Caroline?” he asked, the lamplight flickering on his face.
“I…I wasn’t aware we were at war,” she said stiffly, unable to meet those blue eyes that reminded her so achingly of Pete’s.
He uttered a soft sound that might have been a barely stifled snort of disbelief, but he didn’t call her a liar, at least. “Please, Miss Caroline, for the sake of the man we both loved?”
Oh, unfair, she thought, to invoke your brother. But since he had, how could she disagree?
“Very well, Mr. Collier, in memory of Pete.”
“Please call me Jack. Mr. Collier was our father,” he said, as if that wasn’t a complimentary comparison. “And I have an olive branch of sorts to extend to you.” He reached into his shirt pocket, brought out the pearl ring and held it out to her. “Please, take this back and keep it with my blessing. It was wrong of me to take it. Pete would have wanted you to keep it, so…so that’s what I want, too.”
“But…shouldn’t it stay in the family?” she asked, wanting to do the right thing, the self-sacrificing thing. “For your girls?” For you to give the woman you will marry?
“I want you to have it.”
Something flickered in the depths of those blue eyes, and she wondered what he was thinking. She reached out and took the ring, finding it still warm from his body. Her hand shook a little as she slipped it back on her finger. “Thank you, M— Jack.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling in approval.
She decided to test this moment of amity. “So…what are you going to do, Jack? About your daughters, and the cattle drive?” she asked, hoping the question wasn’t pushing him too hard.
“Said I was going to think about it, didn’t I?” he said, but his tone indicated he was amused rather than offended by her persistence.
She refused to be buffaloed by him. “You’ve already decided, I think.”
He rubbed his chin again. “I’m going to leave the girls here, for sure. I reckon it only makes good sense,” he admitted. “And I thought I’d talk to the bank president in the morning, and see what the terms would be, if we wintered on that ranch your pa spoke of.”
Even though they’d achieved a sort of peace, Caroline knew it wouldn’t be easy being around him. But aloud she said, “You’re making a wise decision, Jack. Papa wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
He held up a hand. “Now, hold your horses, Teacher. It’s all going to depend on what the banker says. And if I like his terms, I’ve still got to ride out to where the herd’s bedded down and talk that bunch of misfits that call themselves drovers into helping me build a bunkhouse where we can spend the winter. Cowboys are an independent lot, you know. They might not at all be willing to stay, especially if it means doing some hard work between now and cold weather.”
She fought to stifle a smile. There was something about the