A Man with a Past by Mary Connealy
FIVE
Wyatt was afraid of her.
The cowpokes were afraid of her.
The cows were afraid of her.
The horses were afraid of her.
Truth be told, she was a little bit afraid of herself.
When Cheyenne saw Wyatt come back, she saw in his eyes that he’d brought those land-stealing, sons-of-a-sidewinder to her ranch.
Already working with the strength and speed of two, she threw herself into branding like a mad woman.
Her land, her heritage, her whole world had been stolen.
She’d prayed about it. She really had. Prayed and prayed and prayed to accept what she could not change.
And still she was roping and throwing calves with a ruthless speed. Not hurting the calves, just fast and without ever allowing herself one second between. She wanted no time to think.
Rope them, throw them, brand them. Rope another one.
The branding was going double speed as everyone tried to keep up with her.
And stay out of her way.
“Hey, Wyatt, Cheyenne, Winona’s here.” Their foreman, Rubin Walsh, shouted at her. When she turned, he was looking somewhere else, like he was afraid to accidentally catch her eye.
Cheyenne turned to see her friend Winona Hawkins come riding up. Wyatt didn’t speak to Cheyenne but strode out toward Win and whoever that brown-headed man was who came along.
She knew who he was though, or had it narrowed down. Either Falcon or Kevin Hunt.
The two men who’d stolen her ranch.
Or rather their father had stolen it.
Stolen it legally, but there was no justice in what had happened. Her land. Her ma and pa’s land. The ranch had been built and run by Nate and Katherine Brewster and was always meant for her, while her grandpa’s ranch was for Wyatt.
And somehow the twisted laws of the land gave it all to Clovis Hunt. Grandpa’s, Ma’s, all of it. And he turned around and left it to sons she didn’t know existed. One-third to Wyatt, and one-third each to Falcon and Kevin.
None for her.
The Sidewinder. The name she and Win called Clovis Hunt until they’d almost forgotten he had another name.
She clenched her teeth tight to keep from screaming that word at the newcomer. Her fingers itched to just start shooting. But the one who needed shooting was under the sod. And Cheyenne found an unadmirable part of herself that wished him to the devil. Oh, she had no doubt his twisted soul had been cast into eternal flames, but to wish for it was a powerful sin, and she fought it—with little success.
Well, she’d refused to go to town to fetch them. She’d been gone from the house when the surprise brothers had come home. But she’d be hornswoggled if she’d cower here in the dust while one of the varmints came riding out to the branding. He probably wanted to claim one-third of the cows and drive them off to market right now. She walked out beside Wyatt to face the son of a thief. Of course, Wyatt was the son of a thief, too. And she had no desire to shoot him.
The men kept on with the branding while Cheyenne and Wyatt took a break to have a palaver with their company. Maybe he wanted cookies and tea. Clovis had been fond of such.
Cheyenne walked at Wyatt’s side. She had her rope in hand, coiled and tapping against her thigh.
Win faced her, giving her a look that helped Cheyenne remember that no one knew how she felt as well as Win. Win’s loyalty was unshakable. That she brought this man out here was probably something she couldn’t avoid.
The newcomer looked her straight in the eye and offered her the land back. It reminded her that she’d been acting like a rabid badger for a while now.
Cheyenne felt her heart lift. It still wasn’t right, but this was a generous offer. She looked a little harder at Kevin Hunt. Maybe she could see past her anger with him.
Kevin paused as if something was making it hard for him to speak. It was probably hard to give away thousands of acres of grazing land. “If we could, we’d just go, and leave you to this stupid ranch.”
We?Cheyenne didn’t know what that meant, did he think the other brother, Falcon, would make the same offer? Or did he have a wife in tow? Or his mother?
Cheyenne whacked the side of her leg with her lasso. “Listen, you son-of-a-sidewinder, you stole my land, and I’m supposed to be grateful that you give some of it back to me? Keep your stupid charity.”
“Now, look here—”
Cheyenne whirled around and stormed back to the branding.