A Man with a Past by Mary Connealy
THIRTY-SIX
By midmorning Wyatt’s fever had gone down enough that he was lucid. He wasn’t happy, but he was awake and making sense—mostly.
“They were planning to steal all four of the biggest ranches in the area?”
“Yep. There was at least one man from each ranch in on it, but they might have partners. No one’s admitted that yet.” Cheyenne had told him twice, sitting on his bedside, holding the hand that wasn’t strapped down. She wasn’t sure if he was a bit addled from the fever or just stunned beyond belief.
Falcon had left Andy downstairs to guard the women, who were cleaning up after the noon meal. Amelia Bishop and Rachel Hobart seemed to accept that they weren’t going anywhere. They’d also sent Rubin to keep an eye on the horses in case Andy wasn’t wily enough.
Now Kevin and Win stood at the foot of Wyatt’s bed. Falcon leaned in the doorway behind them. Cheyenne was on Wyatt’s left and Molly on his right, still urging water into her patient and warm herb teas and broth, then bathing him with cool cloths.
“I guess I can see how they’d think they could take over the Hawkins Ranch.” Wyatt swatted at the cloth Molly pressed to his forehead.
Cheyenne controlled a flinch when she heard the easy acceptance of Oliver Hawkins’s weakness.
“But how could they think they’d get their hands on this place? We’re not gonna just be run off.”
“I think the rustling was the main crime all these years,” Falcon said.
Nodding, Cheyenne said, “I think Ralston was doing it slow and steady, skimming off only a few so we’d never notice. I wonder how many he’s herded to town and sold over the years?”
“We know that’s been going on a long time ’cuz of finding your bull in there,” Falcon went on. “Add in Ross and Tuttle and their grousing in town, and a little quiet rustling suddenly bloomed into a bigger plan.”
“Hawkins they could kill easy.” Wyatt lifted his one working hand and held out his index finger. Then he held out a second finger. “Hanson was getting old on the HC with no heirs to deal with. But he’s a known man with strong connections. They’d’ve needed to make it look like an accident, and he’s a savvy old man. If they used the chaos of Pa’s will to take the RHR, that still marks them as fools for thinking Judd Black Wolf could be killed. That man’s tough and fierce.”
“They said they’d hoped to get at least two of the ranches. I suspect they’d given up on Judd’s place.” Cheyenne squeezed Wyatt’s hand, so glad he seemed to be past the worst of it. But the fever had come down once, then gone back up. She hoped this time it was down for good.
“He’s got a reputation as a dangerous man,” Wyatt said. “But we don’t really know what’s going on over there. Maybe his cowhands are all in on it. Maybe he has enough traitors on his ranch they figured to win a fight against him.”
They all fell silent for a time.
Wyatt rubbed his shoulder gently. “Which one of them shot me?”
“If they’re smart,” Falcon said, “they’ll blame it on one of the dead guys.”
Molly eased Wyatt into a sitting position, and Cheyenne helped to hold him up.
Molly brought a tin cup of water to his lips.
Falcon said quietly, “Cheyenne and me’re gettin’ hitched today.”
Wyatt spit water half the length of his bed. “You’re what?”
He inhaled wrong or something and started choking.
Cheyenne glared at Falcon. “Not the right time.”
Molly patted Wyatt’s back until he started breathing right again.
“You’re marrying my sister?”
Falcon rubbed his forehead in a befuddled way. “Your brother’s marrying your sister.” He looked at Cheyenne. “We’re gonna have’ta explain this just right to the preacher, or he’ll kick up a fuss about the vows.”
“It’ll be fine.” She hoped.
“I thought we’d do it in town when we go talk to the sheriff. Cheyenne, maybe we had oughta go while Wyatt’s feeling good.”
“You can’t marry him,” Wyatt said. “You’ve only known him a few days, and for most of it, he didn’t know his own name.”
“I liked him real well without his memory, and now that he’s got it back, I like him still.”
“Especially now that we’re sure I’m not a married man.”
Wyatt shot straight up in bed. Then he grabbed at his shoulder with a yelp of pain.
“You need to either shut up or get out of here.” Molly tried to get Wyatt to lie down again.
“Ready, Cheyenne?” Falcon made a gesture to the hall as if he’d let her go first.
“You thought he might be married, and you were already—” Wyatt batted Molly’s hands aside with his arm that wasn’t pinned tight to his body, and groaned in pain.
“We were not already anything.” Cheyenne talked before he could say more. “Leastways, not exactly.” Cheyenne wanted to look at Falcon, but he wasn’t helping.
“Get out, all of you.” Molly stepped back from Wyatt’s agitated motions, scowling, hands on her hips as she seemed to be considering what to do to get him to be still.
“They’re not going anywhere. Over my dead body.”
“Well, considering your dead body was almost upon us last night”—Cheyenne patted him on his good shoulder—“I take that threat seriously. But we’re getting married. I admire Falcon’s woodland skills. He’s a strong man I can respect and who’ll work hard at my side and be good protection for me and any children we may have. I want to marry him, and I’m going to.”
It was quite a little speech.
“You’re just doing it to get a third of the ranch back. And Kevin already gave you his third.” Wyatt was reminding her he was a pesky little brother.
“I think his bullet wound has started bleeding again.” Molly leaned so her face was right in front of Wyatt’s. “You need to be still.”
“I do think, if my figurin’ is correct,” Falcon said, “that my ma might’ve still been alive when Clovis married your ma, Wyatt. I would need to think on it some, try and pin down the year she died, and I don’t know what year your ma hitched up with Pa. If they had you right away and you’re six or eight years younger’n me . . .”
Falcon stopped and scratched his head. “I don’t rightly know just how old I am. But I know how old I was when she died. I think Pa’s marriage to your ma isn’t legal, which means Pa’s will isn’t legal. So you go back to the original will your ma left, and this ranch is divided between you and Cheyenne. She won’t get my third. I’ll get her half. And anyway, I have no interest in being a rancher, so it don’t matter to me how much of a ranch I own.”
Molly looked at Kevin. “If the will isn’t legal, then we’re out.” She sounded chipper about that.
Cheyenne couldn’t believe how many people didn’t want her ranch.
“I’ll get packed up just as soon as we’re sure Wyatt is going to live.” Molly looked ready to start filling up her satchel right now. “I’ll get the job at the school. Kevin, you get a job in town. I’ll live with the parson, and you and Win can find a place to live until you can afford some farmland. Andy can either come with you or stay here and be a cowpoke. Unless, Win, you want to go to your home and take Kevin there. Live on your pa’s land. It’s bound to be yours one day.”
“Kevin and I are going to be farmers on a corner of this ranch.” She met Cheyenne’s eyes. “If we don’t own a piece of it, we’ll buy a few acres just off the RHR. I’d like to stay close to you all, and Kevin would like to stay close to Molly if she’s teaching in town. I have my schoolteacher money. I never spent much of it, so we can afford to buy a few acres.”
“Now, Win.” Kevin sounded embarrassed. “A man hadn’t oughta let his wife—”
“Out.” Molly shooed her hands at them. “Except I need more ice. And Win, can you mix up more herbs? And—” The general was back in command of her patient.
Falcon grabbed Cheyenne’s hand and dragged her out of the room. “Let’s go to town before Sheriff Corly lets the prisoners go.”
“He wouldn’t do that.” Cheyenne wasn’t absolutely sure though. “And we need Amelia and probably Rachel.”
They rounded them up and lit out for Bear Claw Pass.