A Man with a Past by Mary Connealy

TWELVE

After Falcon took his hand away, Cheyenne still felt that chapped, callused finger on her chin. She even rubbed the spot he’d touched a few times while she saddled her horse.

“You remember how to do this?”

Falcon was slapping a saddle on with no sign of confusion.

“It makes no sense.” Falcon paused from tightening the cinch to rub the back of his head.

The wound had to be a bullet crease. Tuttle had talked about Falcon being hard to kill. He’d mentioned attacking him and being bested by him in Independence. And here Falcon stood while Tuttle and Baker were dead and, no doubt, being buried today.

Cheyenne wondered what Oliver Hawkins had thought about his foreman being shot. About the man being involved with an attempt to kill Kevin and Falcon. About his plans to kidnap Win and keep her hidden away until she had no choice but to marry him.

It hadn’t missed Cheyenne’s notice that Win had yet to go see her father. Tell him about her wedding. The sheriff was going to his place first thing this morning, so Oliver would be over here as fast as he could move after Sheriff Corly left his place.

As they rode, Cheyenne thought of Win’s pa. She should’ve stayed home. She’d declared a week ago she was going to marry him. Now was a chance to see him—if she guessed right about him coming over, upset at Win’s marriage. Instead, Cheyenne was riding off.

Well, she looked to be getting her land back, though only in a verbal agreement, not legally. She could live with that, but it still burned bad. She had to find time to seriously consider Hawkins’s proposal.

She knew he was no great rancher. But she saw the good side of marrying a man she could be in charge of. And he didn’t run off like Clovis. Even as she thought of it, her stomach sank. She realized she had no real interest in the marriage part of saying, “I do,” with Oliver. But as a partner in a ranch where she got to be in charge, that part of it could work. And maybe if she was the right kind of wife, he might take to running off, too. She could hope.

As they left the ranch yard at a fast walk, Cheyenne rubbed her chin again over the spot Falcon had touched. She couldn’t stop herself.

That made her say something she might’ve been better off keeping quiet about. “We’ve hired a lawyer to track down just when your ma died. If she was still living when Clovis married my ma, then Ma’s marriage wasn’t legal and Clovis had no ownership of the RHR. That’ll cancel the will and any claim you and Kevin have on the place.”

Falcon turned to look at her. Really study her. What was he thinking? Maybe he didn’t even know what he was thinking.

“I can’t help you. I-I think I’d tell you so I could get shut of the land my pa stole. The land’s been kinda hung on me permanent, ain’t it? Didn’t you say it’s in the will that I can’t sell it?”

“It’s very carefully worded so you have to keep it. It can’t be put up for sale for ten years.”

Falcon scratched his head and turned to watch the trail.

“If I ever get to rememberin’ things, I’ll know how old I was when Ma died.” With a disgusted snort he said, “Heck, I don’t even know how old I am now. Older’n Kevin, I reckon. Beyond that, I can’t remember. But my memory will come back after a time, surely. When it does, I can figure out if she died before Clovis married your ma. But for now, I can’t even remember having a ma.”

Cheyenne managed a harsh laugh. “Pretty good chance you had one. We can count on that. You should have stayed around and gotten to know us before you got your brains knocked out.”

“I don’t remember a’course, but I expect I didn’t feel all that welcome. I’m just guessin’ that, on account of how y’all have acted since I found you.”

“Let’s pick up the pace.” Cheyenne kicked her horse into a ground-eating gallop, and Falcon stayed with her.

They reached Bear Claw Pass, and Cheyenne rode straight to the land office. Hitching their horses, Cheyenne charged through the door, in no mood to wait another second to figure out why the map she had at home didn’t match the one in town.

She’d brought hers along, carrying it carefully. It was a prized family possession. But she didn’t see how she could challenge the land office’s map without proof.

Gordon Spellman was behind a counter, sitting at a desk writing when Cheyenne slammed the door open. He jumped at the loud noise, then smiled when he saw her. He was a gray-haired man with a tidy white moustache and golden-framed glasses. Cheyenne had known him for years. He and his wife went to church with her on Sundays. Whatever was going on here, she believed that Gordon’s honesty was beyond reproach.

“Cheyenne, what brings you to town?” He frowned a bit. “Winona Hawkins was in here only a few days ago with some stranger, looking at a map of your property. Is there a problem?”

He wore a white shirt that buttoned down the front. His sleeves had black armbands, which Cheyenne knew many men wore because the general store didn’t get in ready-made shirts in sizes that were overly particular. So the armbands shortened up long sleeves.

“There’s a mighty big problem, Gordon.” Cheyenne slapped her map on the counter and began unrolling it. “We have our own map out at the house, and it doesn’t match yours.”

Gordon watched the map unroll, studying it briefly before looking over at the map he had in his office.

“This right here.” Cheyenne drew her finger on her family’s map, then over to the land office’s map. “There’s an inward curve on your map while there’s an outward curve on mine.”

She tapped the map hard on the area she said was hers.

“It’s Mount Gilbert.” Cheyenne looked from Spellman to Falcon and back. “This here is Falcon Hunt, brother to Wyatt. He’s come to claim his inherited land. It’s real important we get the ranch’s boundaries right if we’re going to have new ownership.” Cheyenne leaned down close to compare the two maps.

Gordon looked at Falcon, then returned to studying the map. “I’ll admit to you, Cheyenne, that your ownership of the land is old. It was settled before I moved here. It’s not a map I pull out and study.”

“And see here, in fine handwriting, it says this is the boundary with the Hawkins Ranch. Now, I know Mount Gilbert is ours. I know it. Some of the land, well, there might be a question about details. But Gilbert here”—she tapped again—“Grandpa had a love for that land. He used to say it wasn’t good for grazing, it was good for gazing.”

“Are you sure he owned it though, Cheyenne? This was all open range when your grandpa Jacque settled. Does he actually have a deed that shows what land he owns?”

Cheyenne paused. “There are deeds somewhere. I know Grandpa was like a lot of others on the frontier. First, he just stopped, put up a cabin, and reckoned the land around him was his. When there was finally a way to own land, after he’d been here for years, he started buying it up. First the water holes, then the best grazing. But I know he pushed himself hard to own his land tight and legal. And Ma did the same for the land my pa had settled on.”

“Your pa, Clovis Hunt?” The man glanced at Falcon. It was plain to see he’d known what Clovis Hunt looked like because he was seeing a young version of the man right before him. He for sure didn’t question for one second whether Falcon was truly Clovis’s son.

“No, my real pa. Nate Brewster. He might’ve died before the land was even surveyed and for sale, but Ma was mindful of owning her land. Grandpa and Ma worked hard to get their land under their legal ownership.”

Gordon went back to studying the maps. “And you say this is a mountain good only for gazing? Why would your grandpa spend money to own what is, in practice, a wasteland?”

Gordon leaned closer to study his version of the map. “You’ve got the Hawkins Ranch as owners of this disputed mountain area, but that’s not right.” He touched a spot on the map. “This section isn’t owned by Oliver Hawkins, either. He doesn’t put his money toward wasteland no matter the view.” Gordon sniffed. “Hawkins has little interest in the wonder of the land around us. He only wants property he can profit from.”

“But Win came in to check on the maps with Wyatt’s other brother, Kevin. Why would she write on that line that it was the boundary between her father’s ranch and mine?” Cheyenne knew better than to call the ranch “mine.” It for a fact was not hers. But it best described the property so she said it.

“I was here when she visited with Kevin. I watched Kevin draw a map, and he asked me some questions about it as he worked. I remember Win saying your land bordered hers. I suppose she just made a quick note of that? As far as I know, Winona has never shown any interest in her father’s property lines. Unless perhaps she also has a map at home.”

Cheyenne considered that. Win never went home if she could help it. It was doubtful she spent any time studying maps there. Cheyenne nodded and looked at that strange oblong circle cut out of her property. “Does that land have an owner, then?”

Gordon turned to open a drawer and thumbed through the files. He came to the spot he was searching for and pulled out a sheet of paper.

Bringing it back to the counter, he said, “I’ve got a deed here listed to Percival Ralston.”

“He’s from the Hawkins Ranch. He’s been there for years.” Cheyenne frowned. “He was the foreman there for a time, then he had his leg badly broken riding a bronc. I think he does bookwork for Oliver now. I really don’t know what he does, I only know he’s got a bad limp and doesn’t work cattle anymore. Ralston owns this stretch?”

Gordon nodded.

“What’s the date on the sale?”

Gordon looked in his files. The drawer slid farther open, and the papers crinkled as he thumbed through them. At last, he pulled out a sheet of paper and read for a bit. “He’s owned it for nearly ten years, it seems. That was before I came to the area. Actually, the date he bought it was only weeks before I started this job.”

Gordon frowned at the date. “Odd, I know the land office was empty for a time before I got here because the former agent died at his desk. It looks to me like Ralston bought it when there wouldn’t have been anyone to sell it to him.”

With a shake of his head, Gordon said, “Maybe someone appointed a temporary agent. The agent might have moved on when he heard I was to arrive, but he wasn’t here when I got to Bear Claw Pass. At any rate, Ralston must have come in hunting a home and found a gap in the rugged land between the two ranches. Maybe he was struck by it the same as your grandpa. Looking to spend his old age on that mountain gazing at the view.”

“Grandpa owns that land and did so long before ten years ago. I’ll go home and hunt through our deeds. You may have to refund Ralston’s money.”

Gordon peered at the paper. “That will be no hardship. There’s a thousand acres on that hill, but he was charged only two pennies an acre.”

“That’s twenty dollars. He bought all that land for twenty dollars?” Falcon landed a hand on his hat as if the surprise of it would knock it away.

“It’s listed as wasteland. It has little to no value. I admit that’s an exceptionally low price, but a mountain with no grazing land, well, it wouldn’t be worth much.” Gordon read the papers with a frown. “The name of the land agent on the deed isn’t right though. It’s the name of the man who died. And I know the purchase date was after his death. Maybe they dated it wrong. But it’s irregular.”

Gordon looked at Cheyenne, then at Falcon. “I’m going to check into this more closely. I can compare the previous land agent’s signature and look into other land sales from around that time. I’ll see if any other sales were made between when I know my predecessor died and I arrived. And I’ll check the older documents and see what your grandfather bought using those older deeds.”

As he tapped the counter, his eyes lit up. “Yes, if your grandpa bought this land, there should be an old deed saying so. You bring me in a copy of the original deeds, and we’ll check them against each other. If this is your grandfather’s land, then there is some skullduggery at hand.”

“I can come in with the deed tomorrow. Or wait longer if you need time.”

“Tomorrow would be fine.”

“I might bring Wyatt with me. We both heard Grandpa talk about that land. We both believed he owned it. He certainly spoke of it as if he did.”

“Wyatt’s voice added to yours is a good idea. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise you.”

Cheyenne reached out her hand. Gordon hesitated; shaking a woman’s hand wasn’t the usual thing, but he took her hand anyway.

“See you tomorrow.”

Cheyenne nodded and pulled her gloves on as she walked outside with Falcon behind her.

They reached the horses before she said, “Let’s ride out to that mountain. I haven’t been there for years. It was more Grandpa’s way to gaze at pretty scenery than mine. But I’d like to see if Percy Ralston has put himself up a cabin on my land.”

“Let’s find the deed first.” Falcon swung up on his horse. “No sense charging in to land when we don’t have the law on our side.”

“That’s my family’s land, Falcon.”

“I believe you. Now let’s prove it.”

Cheyenne gave Falcon a steely-eyed look, then reined her horse around and rode out of town for home.

Molly heard the door open and turned to see her new sister-in-law come in.

“I’ve been shirking here in the kitchen,” Win said. “I’ll make the next meal. We’ve been leaning hard on you for a while now.”

The dark curls, bright blue eyes, and pink cheeks. A woman so colorful and with such a sunny smile. Molly could see why Kevin was drawn to her.

Molly didn’t spend a lot of time looking in a mirror, but she knew she was a washed-out, colorless woman. Blue eyes, but so pale they didn’t matter much. Flyaway blond hair that always straggled loose from the tight little bun she wore. And the only time she had any color in her cheeks was if she stayed out in the sun too long. Then she looked red as an overripe beet and was, no doubt, about as appealing.

Stifling the envy she felt at the pretty woman who’d turned her brother’s head, Molly prayed to be delivered from her unkind feelings of resentment. “I’ve got it started already. Rubin brought in a beef roast last night. I put it on early so it’d be done by noon. I’ve peeled the potatoes, and I’ve got carrots ready to bake, and room in the oven for them in just a few minutes when I take out the pound cake I’ve got baking.”

Uncharitably, she wondered what the woman could be thinking to come in here an hour before the noon meal and expect it wouldn’t already be cooking. Unkind feelings again.

She was unnecessarily hostile to Win. Again she prayed for God to guide her. “But I would appreciate it if you took over.”

She had other work.

“Tell me what’s left. I’m sorry I didn’t come over sooner, but I had to clean up after breakfast with Kevin. Then just now, Andy came in and asked Kevin if he wanted to go look at the branding. Learn a little about handling cattle. So Kevin left, and I finally got over here.”

“Kevin and branding.” Molly shook her head. “I wonder if he’ll take to it. Do you want to be a rancher’s wife? Instead of a farmer’s wife?”

Those pink cheeks turned a bit brighter. “I want to be Kevin’s wife. Whatever he works at, I’ll be working at his side.”

Win’s eyes turned thoughtful, as she studied Molly. “I-I don’t talk about it much, though I told Kevin, but my father wasn’t a-a decent sort of man. I know you had trouble with your own pa.”

Molly knew Kevin had told Win about the way Molly’s parents had died. But even Kevin didn’t know the whole story, and Molly was determined that no one ever did.

“O-our parents died when I was quite young. But after . . . well, after . . . Kevin was there to help.” Molly’s chest hurt just from talking about such a terrible thing.

Mentally squaring her shoulders, she shook off the old times. “I was old enough to manage the house and care for Andy, until I felt more like his ma than his big sister. I reckon that’s why it comes natural to cook for you all and keep the house tidy.”

“Is there anything you’d like to do, just for pleasure? Take a break?”

“Not really. I guess I could wander into the study and find a book.” She never sat around idle during the day.

Win’s eyes lit up. She smiled. “Get yourself a cup of coffee. I’ll get the pound cake out of the oven, and there”—her eyes went to the bowl of icing on the counter—“you’ve got a glaze made for it. I’ll frost it, and you can drink coffee and eat cake while I work.”

Win laughed. “Won’t that make you feel like a lady of leisure? And we can talk while I get the potatoes stewing and the carrots on to bake.”

Her laughter was contagious enough that Molly managed a true smile.

Before she sat, she said, “Let me check the cake. It should be done by now. Then yes, I’ll sit down. I’ll let you take over while I rest my weary bones.”

Win smiled back, then got a coffee cup down while Molly checked the cake and found it done. She drew it out of the hot oven, set it on the folded kitchen towels she’d gotten ready to handle the hot pan, then slipped the carrots in. She moved the already peeled and quartered potatoes forward to begin their boiling.

Now that everything was done, sure, she could sit and rest. But it had been nice of Win to offer, and the cake did need to be glazed while it was still hot.

Win set the brimming coffee cup on the table and made a wide sweep of her hand. “My lady, your coffee is served.”

Molly sat and picked up her coffee. If she wasn’t so frightened and sad about losing Kevin, her partner and best friend forever, she might come to like Win.

But she wasn’t going to rush into anything.

Cheyenne slammed the door open and stalked across the kitchen without looking left or right.

Falcon, a pace behind her, said, “Molly, dinner sure smells good. Hi, Win. There’s a mix-up between the land office and Cheyenne’s memory of the ranch boundaries. We’re huntin’ the deed. Gonna straighten this out.”

With a flinch, Cheyenne wondered how it’d happened that the roughhewn, barely civilized Tennessee mountain man with the addled brain had better manners than she did.

By the time she was done flinching, she was through the room and forgot Win and Molly in her rush for Grandpa’s study.

Cheyenne went straight for a row of drawers built into the wall of shelves behind Grandpa’s old wooden desk chair, always squared behind the massive oak desk Cheyenne’s pa had made for Grandpa as a Christmas present years before this house had been built.

Cheyenne knew her ma and Grandpa had worked hard to make the study worthy of that pretty desk, and she always thought of the love of her family when she looked at it.

She dropped to her knees by the first drawer and went straight to the D section. It was all real tidy. And she remembered right where those deeds were.

They weren’t there.

Scowling, she looked up to see Falcon standing there with his hands in his back pockets.

“Aren’t you going to help me?”

“Can’t read.”

“Oh. Well, you won’t be much help, then.”

“I reckon teachers like Molly and Win might help.”

“I suppose. And this is now one-third Win’s ranch.” Cheyenne said it like she was taking bites out of the words. “She oughta come in here and help, except . . .”

“Except what?”

“The deeds aren’t here.”

“Stolen? By Pa?”

Well, that hadn’t occurred to her. She realized she was still wearing her hat. She reached up and tore it off her head. “Why would he do that?”

“Um . . . maybe something about the map being changed . . . it might . . . if he was around . . . If that sale went through when there wasn’t a land agent, then it’s someone up to no good. And that sounds like Pa.”

Sinking back from where she knelt to sit on her heels, she whacked her hat on the open drawer, then slammed it shut with a loud thud.

“Or maybe it ain’t under Deed. It might be under Land or Ranch or Boundary or . . .” he trailed off.

Whacking Falcon with her hat, which did no harm as he was standing and she was sunk down on the floor, she said, “I get it. I haven’t looked at those deeds for years. And maybe I haven’t ever looked at them. Maybe Ma and Grandpa had them out, and I was just standing around here listening. So I’d better go through the files more carefully.”

She whacked Falcon’s ankles again, then tossed her hat on the desktop. She went back to the first drawer and slid it open. This ranch was an old one, and the files piled up. Still, a ranch didn’t run much on paper. It was mostly done with hard labor, sharp thinking, and a strong back. But the files had been years accumulating, and the job was a big one.

Before she started, she looked up and sideways at Falcon, still standing there. “You should learn to read. It’s real handy.”

Falcon shrugged.

“We’ve got two teachers here at the house, and near as I can tell, not counting cooking and cleaning, mending and gardening, milking the cows and gathering eggs, neither of them have much to do.”

“I think you have to count all of that. They have a lot to do.”

“If they aren’t roping and riding, I don’t count it.”

Falcon gave her a smile so small it mainly flashed in his eyes. “It counts. But come winter, if I’m still here, there might be some long evenings trapped inside. I might ask for help.”

“Go now and ask them. I’m going to be a while.”

Falcon looked over his shoulder at the open door, then he whispered, “I don’t want to talk to them.”

“Why not? They’re your sisters.”

His expression of horror made her laugh, and she sure hadn’t done much of that in a while.

“They are not my sisters, and neither are you. Wyatt and Kevin are just barely my brothers. I like the idea of having a family, but I’d’ve preferred a less troublesome one. One where I get shot and drowned less often.”

Cheyenne would have preferred a less troublesome family, too, so she could only agree. She decided to leave him to do whatever he wanted and turned back to her drawer.

“I’m going to go through all the papers here, and I need to look in a chest that had been in Grandpa’s room and another that was in Ma’s. This is going to take all day.”

“Get the teacher ladies in here to help.”

“I will. We can spend the time after we eat going through everything.”

“You’re fussing about a deed to land that isn’t even yours all right and legal, but, Cheyenne?”

She ignored the churn of anger that lived day and night in her gut. “What?”

“Whatever the law says, that land is yours. I won’t stand in your way. Pa used a bad law to cheat you, but I won’t be part of it.”

“That’s real decent of you, Falcon.” Her stomach churned just a bit less. “I need to remember that Clovis did this to me. Neither you nor Kevin did it. I’ve been mad at all of you, and there’s no fairness in that. Not a lot of common sense, either. I’m going to try and behave better.”

She closed the distance between them. “Thank you.”

He nodded his head with a light in his eyes that could be humor.

“Once I’m through with this, we’re going out to Mount Gilbert and see that stretch of land and find out how Ralston came to own it.”

Win came to the office door right then and said, “Dinner is ready. Come join Molly and me. I don’t think Kevin or Wyatt will be back.”

The meal was delicious, but Cheyenne barely tasted it in her haste to go straight back to sorting papers. The more she searched, the more she found in places she’d never considered. Molly and Win threw in with her, and Falcon went around and found eggs and milked cows to pass the hours.

For all their searching, they didn’t find any deeds.

When they sat down to talk with Wyatt and Kevin while they ate, Cheyenne told her story of the missing deeds. She’d accepted that they were gone. “I’ve got to give up.”

As Wyatt sliced his roast beef, Falcon said, “Tomorrow, Cheyenne and me’re gonna go look at the land.”

“I’ll go back out to the cattle,” Wyatt said. “Doubt you need a crowd to ride over there and see what’s what.”

Cheyenne wanted to get to the bottom of this, and she wasn’t going to wait one day longer than necessary. “We’ll ride out at sunrise.”