Quil's Careful Cowboy (Tales from Biders Clump Book 2) Read online

  "I've done a few things, but mostly I work as a cowboy," he answered as Polly set a cup of steaming coffee before him. "Thank you, ma’am."

  "We raise cattle," Quil stated, her voice even as she recounted the fact, but he noticed her eyes drop a little with her voice.

  "You don't say?"

  "My yes," Prissy spoke, reaching for another cookie and dunking it into her cup. "Ma and Pa have been raising cows for ages," she said, lifting the now dripping cookie to her mouth and taking a bite of the squishy treat.

  "I imagine you have quite a large herd, then," Cam answered, trying to feel out the situation with the women. "Your pa must be a busy man," Cam smiled.

  "I'm afraid Mr. Adams has passed on," Maud spoke, cutting her eyes around the table to look at the girls, silencing each of them. "Our herd is somewhat depleted at this time."

  "I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am," Cameron's words were polite.

  "We'll manage somehow," the older woman stated with a forced smile.

  Cam's eyes wandered back to the girl with the gold-streaked brown hair and clear green eyes. She seemed to want to say something, but held her tongue.

  "Cookies!" George stomped into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Git me a cup will ya Ma?" He asked, walking to the sink and washing his hands. "It's still nippy out there," he grinned.

  Polly rose to her feet and pulled a mug down from a hook above a blackened stove, filling it with coffee. "You get everything stowed?" she asked.

  "Yep. Your saddle's in the barn out back, Cameron. You can fetch it whenever you need." He stood by the wide, white sink a moment, drying his hands and studying the scene before him. "Maybe you'll get some work in these parts," he added thoughtfully. "There's the Dixon place, they sometimes need riders."

  Maud Adams sat up straight, a dark shadow crossing her pleasant features. "There are others who have use of a skilled cowhand as well, George Olson," she said stiffly.

  Slowly, the eyes of all four women came to rest on Cam. “As a matter of fact, I’m looking for someone to get my range back up and running to capacity myself. Perhaps if you’re in town long enough, you could ride over and see if you’d like a job?” Mrs. Adams suggested sweetly.

  “I might consider it,” Cam spoke, his voice cautious. “I like to see how different parts of the country do things.”

  Mrs. Adams smiled. “Well, you drop on by anytime you feel like it,” the older woman said, “anyone can tell you how to find the Adams’ place. Come along now, girls,” she added as she rose to her feet. “I’m sure this young man hadn’t expected to keep all of us women entertained when he’s only arrived in town.”

  Together the family rose and said farewell to everyone at the table, but Quil’s eyes lingered on the young man a moment longer than anyone else.

  Chapter 2

  “Them women sure has had a rough time of it the past few years,” George said as he sipped his cup of coffee.

  Polly had gone off to do some shopping, leaving the two men alone while they enjoyed their cookies and coffee.

  “I might as well tell ya ‘bout it before you hear something from someone else.” The old man’s voice was full of compassion. “Ya see Maud’s a smart, God fearin’ woman, but sometimes people wheedle their way into a person’s life without showing their true colors ‘til it’s too late.” He reached for another cookie and looked at Cameron.

  “Two years ago, a fella come ridin’ in here looking for work and took a job with the Adams’ crew. He was a good cowhand and friendly. ‘Bout everyone liked him right from the start. He was personable like.” George shook his head, remembering.

  “Seem’s like the only person didn’t like the man was old Harlan Dixon, but he didn’t say nothin’. Anyway, that fella worked his way up to ranch foreman in no time at all and soon had the herd ready for sale. He took the other men and headed out for the stockyards and got a fair price for the sale.”

  George noted Cameron’s scowl and waved a hand at him to be patient. “Now on the way back to his hotel room that night in the big city, that fella was robbed and all but what had been paid out to the hands from that sale was lost.”

  Cameron leaned back in his chair, understanding how something like that could be a huge misfortune to the widow Adams and her girls.

  “That ain’t the worst of it,” George said, seeing comprehension on the young man’s face. “That fella come back all sad and said he’d work the next round-up with no wages for his mistake. Said he’d do his best to get a better price and see that the ranch was all set ‘cause it was like a home to him.”

  “Sounds like an upright sort of man,” Cameron commented, sipping his coffee as he studied the old man.

  “Sounds like it, but he weren’t,” George snapped, slapping his fist on the table and making the dishes jump. “That no good, side-winding, coyote took the next herd to market, sold them, then run off with every dime.”

  Cameron Royal felt a rock drop to the bottom of his stomach. The four women he’d just had coffee with must be ruined.

  George nodded his head once, “Now ya see, don’t ya?” he asked, picking up his coffee cup again. “Turns out that first time he wasn’t robbed, neither, but told everyone he was and he kept the money.”

  Cameron shook his head at the tale. How could anyone do such a terrible thing? “How’d Mrs. Adams manage to stay afloat?” he finally asked.

  “Well she owns the ranch outright so that’s good, and she’s let the cows go loose this year. Had to sell all her saddle stock, though. I’m afraid things have been mighty tight over to the Rocking A recently.”

  “So, she really does need someone to work for her?” Cameron asked.

  “Yep, but I don’t know if she’ll be able to pay cash for work until the next herd’s ready for market.”

  Cameron ran a hand over his rough beard. A smart man could negotiate for a share in the sale if things looked all right. The problem was he didn’t even have a horse to ride at this point. Careful consideration would have to be given to the situation before he spoke to Mrs. Adams again.

  “Thanks for the cookies and the conversation, George,” he finally said, rising to his feet and taking his coffee cup and saucer to the sink. “You’ve given me some things to think about. Just out of curiosity, what happened to the other hands that used to work the Rocking A?”

  “Most of them is still around, some’s working for Dixon now but others are spread around.” He also rose and carried his dishes to the sink. “I’m headed over to the livery now, but if you need anything you holler. Supper’s at six,” he said with a wink, then turned for the door.

  ***

  Cameron Royal took his hat from the peg by the door and settled it on his head before stepping through the door into a sunny spring afternoon.

  Squinting slightly, he looked up and down the street, trying to decide what to do. Along the main drag toward the train station he'd only left that morning, he could see a saloon where two horses bearing a Rocking A brand stood, dozing in the sun. With a shrug, he started out in that direction.

  Never one to waste much time or money in any drinking establishment, Cam still knew that it was one of the best places in any town to get information. Slowly he meandered his way toward the batwing doors that marked the entrance and stepped through.

  A small group of cowboys playing cards at a table looked up as he walked in, while two more stood at the bar, nursing large mugs of beer.

  "What can I get ya, son?" an older man with a bald pate and long handlebar mustache asked with a smile. "I'm Barry, the barkeep," he added with a wink.

  "You got any sarsaparilla?" Cam asked with a grin, expecting laughs from the other men.

  "Sure do." The man smiled back, reaching beneath the bar to lift out a brown bottle and twisting off the top. "It's a favorite round these parts," Barry the barkeep said, pouring the dark liquid into a clear mug.

  Cam grinned. No one seemed to think his choice of drink was funny and it had not garnered a single chuckle
.

  "Haven't seen you in town before," Barry spoke, "you a new hand at the Dixon place?" he asked, wiping out a glass and examining it in the light.

  "Nope, just got to town this morning," Cam replied, "might be lookin' for work though." He looked down the bar and the two men raised their glasses sociably.

  "Ain't much ta be had right now," one of the cow punches suggested.

  "I thought I heard something about a place called the Rocking A was lookin' to hire," Cam responded cautiously.

  One of the men at the table looked up. He was a tall, lean young man with sandy hair and clear, dark eyes. "The Rocking A's next to my place," he said, eyeing Cam. "Seems they've had a bit of bad luck out that way lately."

  Cameron turned and leaned against the bar, his drink still in his hand. "So I've heard."

  The younger man studied him intently for a moment then nodded to him, "Pull up a seat," he offered, "I'm Rafe Dixon, by the way."

  The men around him scowled darkly but did not say a word.

  Cameron sauntered to the table and stretched out his hand. “Cameron Royal,” he offered as Rafe stood and shook it, then settled himself into his chair once more.

  Two of the cowboys with him put their cards down and moved to the bar as Cameron took a seat.

  "Where'd you say you're from?" Rafe asked, his eyes intent as he waited for Cameron's response.

  "Didn't say." Cam offered, his mouth lifting on one side as if preparing to smile.

  "My father's place is just north of the Rocking A."

  "Big operation?"

  "Yes, largest in the area. The Adams’ place used to be about as big, but they’ve fallen on rather hard times lately."

  Cameron could feel all eyes on him as he listened to the other man. There was something going unsaid and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  "I heard some of their old hands have come to work for you." A shuffling from the bar was answer enough to the fact, but Rafe Dixon answered anyway.

  "Yes, the men at the bar used to work for the Adams' outfit. When they were let go, they took work with us."

  "I worked the Rocking A nearly my whole life," a man with a white beard said, his blue eyes sharp. "I'd a stayed even without pay if Mrs. Maud would a' let me. It's a good outfit."

  Cam could feel the hostility in the old man's words. "Seems like an industrious fella could make a go of it if he signed on at that place," he said, lifting his glass and taking a swig. The sound of heavy boots hitting the planked floor menacingly indicated that the other men had turned from the bar.

  "Them women have had enough of the industrious types," the older man barked. “Seems they's a passel of fellas who have no qualms about robbin' women blind now-a-days." His voice was an ugly growl.

  "Calm down Bill," the young man called Rafe said. "We all want to see the Adams get themselves out of their current predicament."

  One of the other men scoffed. "Everyone but your pa, maybe."

  Rafe shook his head. "Pa can be as bull-headed as a range bull on the prowl, but he can't truly want to see the Rocking A go under." He scowled, looking at the others as a shadow of doubt flickered in his eyes.

  "It's true my Pa's no friend to the Adams women, but he'd not want to see them homeless." He turned back to Cameron. "I'm afraid the two families have been at odds for as long as anyone can remember, but they never did anything to me and no one wants to see any harm come to the women." He paused, studying Cam's face.

  "What's the feud about?" Cam asked curiously.

  Rafe shook his head in frustration, "Apparently," he began, "no one knows." His eyes fell hard on the men who still stood at the bar and Cam watched as each of them dropped their gaze, squirmed, and turned back to the bar. "At least not that they'll tell."

  "Folks have a right to their privacy," Cam agreed. Questions nagged at him, but he'd leave it for now. Maybe eventually the others would let him in on what was going on between the two families. He had often found that the best way to proceed was to keep your mouth shut and your ears open.

  "If you're lookin' for work," the man who had remained at the table spoke up, "Mr. Dixon's usually up to signing on a new hand."

  "No, he's not." Rafe snapped, suddenly making all the men blink at him. "I mean we're full up now." He glared at the black-haired cowboy, who had begun stroking his mustache irritably.

  "If you say so, Rafe," the man acquiesced, still squinting at the boss's son suspiciously.

  "Rafe!" An excited young cowhand dashed through the doors. "The vet cleared the bull, says he's fit as a fiddle even after bein' shipped all this way."

  Rafe Dixon rose to his feet. "I guess we'd better start movin' him home, then," he said. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Royal. Good luck with the job hunt."

  Cameron watched as the young man and his crew exited the bar. He was still sure there was more going on in Biders Clump than met the eye, but for now he was inclined to give it a few days before heading over to the Rocking A looking for work. He'd head to the livery and see if he could find an affordable horse.

  ***

  "Ah, there you go again," a gruff voice drifted from the depths of the barn.

  A sharp cackle followed the comment. "I won fair and square," George’s voice floated happily on the air.

  "Says you," another voice complained.

  "Byron, how long we been playin' checkers? You know well as I do that I don't cheat, your mind just ain't on the game today."

  "Well how can it be?" the man called Byron spoke. "I tol' Maud I had some fine saddle stock in and she could have first pick and she just said no thank you. No thank you!"

  Something thumped in the small office at the front of the big barn. "When did you know Maud to ever say no without even lookin'? I'm tellin' you, things is worse than ever for her and them girls."

  "I just wish some honest fella would come along and sorta take over runnin' them cows for her." George's voice was serious. "The Brody's have kept an eye on things and tried their best to keep the new calves straight, but that herd is growing and the calves need branding."

  "No, the Brody's can't be branding for the Rocking A, but what else can be done?"

  "I don't know." George’s voice sounded chagrined. "Brody said he's more than happy with the combined range, and that bull old Mr. Adams bought a few years back to improve the herd is mixin' with his stock don't hurt him none, neither."

  "I hope Maud will take on another fella to help out." Byron's voice scratched with worry. "I'm kinda partial to them girls, ya know."

  Cameron Royal pulled the folded slip of paper from his hip pocket and studied it. He had been wondering about the Rocking A ever since he'd found the missive in a general store in Laramie.

  Honest cowboy wanted. Needs to be willing to take a risk to bring a ranch back up to snuff. Opportunities for shares in the ranch. For information, send word to Maud Adams, Biders Clump postal service.

  It was clear that many people in the little town knew and respected the matron of the Adams clan and only wished her well, but a share in a ranch seemed too good to be true. The problem with promises was that they were all too easily broken.

  Slipping the page back into his weathered jeans, Cameron cleared his throat loudly and called out to see if anyone could show him a horse or two.

  "Howdy." A grizzled man with white hair slipped from the office door. "I'm Byron, what can I do for ya, young man?"

  "I'm lookin' for a horse," Cam said, peering into the dark interior of the barn. "I'd like a good cowpony or two."

  Chapter 3

  It was not a long ride to the Adams’ ranch and in a little over a half hour, a sturdy log cabin was coming into view. The little mustang horse that Cam had purchased at the livery picked up its pace, drawing nearer.

  The dark chestnut horse seemed to know his way and since he wore the Rocking A brand, Cameron wasn’t surprised. He had been fortunate that a cowhand had just sold the horse to Byron and he had picked him up for a good price.

&
nbsp; A moment later the horse snorted as it approached the steps leading to the front of the house. The front door opened and a wide-eyed young woman stepped across the porch and into the yard.

  “Snap?” she queried, reaching out and stroking the horse’s face, smoothing its golden mane. In response, the horse nickered low in his chest and shoved his face into the girl’s chest.

  Cam watched mesmerized as the girl and the horse greeted each other as old friends, the horse huffing softly as the young woman laid her head against the animal’s face.

  “Ma’am,” Cam said, a grin tugging at his mouth, “I guess you know this critter.”

  Bright green eyes turned toward him, eyes full of happy tears. “Oh yes, yes,” she replied, still stoking the pony’s nose. “This is Snap,” she said, her voice soft. “He, he was mine.” A sparkling tear rolled down her face and she stepped away from the horse, but the cow pony followed her.

  “He seems pleased to see you,” Cam commented, swinging down, her expression tugging at his heart. “You might as well get reacquainted,” he offered.

  With soft hands Aquila Adams rubbed the horse under his chin and scratched his ears. “Ginger Snap was the pony my Pa gave me when I turned sixteen. I trained him myself.”

  “You don’t say?” Cam asked, leaning against the horse’s shoulder and studying the pretty woman before him. She was wearing a blue dress that highlighted the green of her eyes and the soft flush of her skin.

  “I take it you named him as well.” Cam couldn’t see any cowhand calling his horse Ginger Snap.

  The young woman, Aquila, if he was not mistaken, smiled. “Yes, I did. But look at him, he’s exactly the color of a gingersnap cookie, even with his lighter mane and tale. He’s perfect,” she added, placing a kiss on the pony’s brow.

  “I was worried there was something wrong with him when I purchased him from the livery this morning,” Cam admitted. “Byron seemed determined I should have this exact horse. Practically let me have him for a song.”