High Desert Cowboy (High Sierra Book 2) Read online

  The kind of face that could keep a man up at night.

  He shook off the thoughts and hurried to the barn. If they were going to make the train, they needed to get started.

  The stable hands were ready for him, a middlin boy held the lead up short to Royal Prince. The big stallion followed behind, repeatedly jerking his head up, pulling at his lead. It was as if he knew change was in the air.

  “Morning boy,” Dusty said as he reached out to rub the big horse's neck.

  The stallion nuzzled his hand, looking for a treat.

  “You’re a spoiled brat. Ain’t you?” Dusty said with a laugh as he scratched behind the horse's ears.

  “Mr. Rhodes,” a second stable boy said as he walked towards him and held out a second lead.

  Dusty’s face scrunched up in confusion as he looked down at the animal on the other end of the rope.

  “What’s that?” he asked as his mind tried to understand what was going on.

  “A goat,” the boy said.

  Dusty sighed. “I know it’s a goat. Why are you handing me it to me?”

  “That’s Billy,” the boy said as if that explained everything.

  Shaking his head, Dusty examined the goat. Tawny brown, with short horns, the thing couldn’t be more than a year or two old.

  “Of course he’s named Billy. What else would you call a goat? But why you given him to me?”

  The boy smiled. “He and Prince are friends. They can’t be separated or the Prince gets mean.”

  Dusty rolled his eyes and looked at the stallion. “A spoiled brat, just like I said.”

  “The goat goes with the horse. Mr. Pendergrass said so. He don’t want it here.”

  Dusty sighed. Great, his job was to get this horse across the country. He wasn’t being paid to babysit goats. But if it kept the stallion calm, it might be worth it, he thought. The last thing he needed was to be spending his time with a lovesick horse heartbroken over some goat.

  “Bring it,” he told the boy as he turned and led the stallion out of the barn.

  When they got to the train, Dusty glanced to the left and saw that Carson woman standing by a pile of bags and trunks directing a porter on which should be loaded in which order. It looked like she was moving half of Philadelphia to Nevada, he thought as he shook his head.

  At that moment, she looked up and caught him staring at her. For just a second, something registered in her eyes. Something that pulled at him. But she quickly shut it down and shifted to a cold stare.

  A finicky horse, a stupid goat, and an angry woman. It was going to be a long trip.

  Sighing heavily, he led Prince up into the car and got both him and the goat situated in the far corner stall. The rest of the stalls were empty. The station-master had told him yesterday that they would be picking up other stock along the way.

  Dusty shook his head. He could only hope there were no mares to be added. If they were, then his job was going to get so much harder. And no Billy goat was going to make enough of a difference.

  After he’d placed a bucket of water in the corner of the stall and tossed in some alfalfa, he stepped back and examined the horse. At sixteen hands and solid muscle, he had to admit, the animal was admirable. He looked like he was faster than the wind even when he was standing still. But looks don’t cut a lot of wood. It was heart that mattered. And there was no telling if this horse had any worth speaking about.

  “You know,” he said as he rubbed Prince’s back. “When we get to the far end. Those Nevada horses are going to tease you about that goat.”

  Prince snorted as if he didn’t care then returned to his alfalfa.

  “You two be careful,” Dusty said to the animals. “I’ll check on you when I can.”

  Prince turned and put his head over the stall’s gate, pushing at him with his nose.

  “Okay, okay,” Dusty muttered. “Maybe the porters have some apples I can get.”

  Dusty took a deep breath, They’d be fine here, he told himself. It was just a horse. But then he thought about how much Mr. Carson paid for him and shuddered. Once the train was going, no one could get to them. Not unless they climbed over the top from the passenger car. And no one was that dumb.

  No, they’d be safe, he reassured himself. It was only when they were stopped at a station that he needed to worry.

  He grabbed his saddlebags and threw them over his shoulder, then belted on his gun. They didn’t like men wearing guns in these parts. Well, they were just going to have to put up with it, he thought as turned to go get his seat before the train left.

  The freight cars were located directly behind the locomotive. The passengers were further back. Farther away from the smoke and noise of the engine. When he stepped up into the passenger car, he quickly scanned the area to identify any threats. It had become habit over the years. He never walked into a strange room without stopping for a moment and cataloging people.

  A long skinny car with wooden seats facing each other separated by a narrow aisle. A dozen passengers. Businessmen. A woman with two youngsters. An off-duty conductor, probably deadheading back to his base.

  No Miss Carson, he realized. Of course not. She’d be in the sleeper car behind. He’d spend the next week sleeping on a hard seat while she was curled up in a Pullman berth like a princess.

  The train lurched with a start and the engineer let out a long blast of the whistle.

  Shaking his head, Dusty dropped down into the far back seat where he could keep an eye on those coming and going. He adjusted the gun on his hip, put his legs up on the seat across from him, then pulled his hat down over his eyes. It was going to be a long trip and he had learned long ago to grab sleep when he could because a man never knew when the next chance might come along.

  “Mr. Rhodes,” a soft feminine voice said, pulling him up out of a dream about a princess in a stone castle. The clickity-clack of the rails and the gentle sway of the train reminded him where he was.

  Pushing his hat back just enough, he looked up to find Miss Rebecca Carson staring at him like he was a piece of barn muck clinging to her shoe. She held the corner of the opposite seat for balance.

  “Ma’am,” he said without shifting his position. His mother had taught him well. He should rise when a lady addresses him. She would have been sorely disappointed at his manners. But something about Rebecca Carson just made him not want to do what this woman expected.

  He could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t used to men who didn’t treat her like a lady. Like some precious vase that needed to be respected. Men who didn’t jump up when she entered a room. Men who didn’t do what she wanted simply because she had batted her pretty eyelashes at them.

  No, he thought. He wasn’t going to do it. There were many women he respected. Women like friend Jack’s wife, Jenny Tanner. Women who worked, and fought to hold on to what was theirs. Women like his mother. Not women who expected everything to be handed to them on a silver platter.

  She reminded him of the coal mine owner’s wife of his childhood. Always expecting people to bow and scrape because her husband was rich and employed two-thirds of the men in the county.

  Well, he’d stopped bowing and scraping long ago.

  He could see it in this woman’s eyes. She wasn’t pleased.

  “I had hoped you would keep me abreast of Royal Prince,” she said through gritted teeth. “Is he situated safely?”

  He looked at her and slowly shook his head. “No, not really,” he said sarcastically. “I left him in among the snakes and tigers.”

  She let out a long breath. He had to fight not to smile. He did like making her upset. One of the few joys in this world was riling up a pretty woman.

  “Really, Mr. Rhodes. If you expect to continue working for my brother upon our return. I would expect more curtesy.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s up to your brother. Besides, I don’t ride for the C-Bar. He just hired me to come get a horse for him. A week from now I’ll be riding the grub line,
looking for a job.”

  An anger flashed behind her eyes. She obviously despised not having any power in the situation.

  “May I?” she asked as she glanced down at his booted feet on the bench across from him.

  Dusty sighed heavily as he pulled his feet back so that she might sit.

  She adjusted her dress as she sat. Prim and proper, he thought. That was Miss Carson.

  “Mr. Rhodes,” she began.

  “Miss Carson,” he replied, just to see the hint of anger behind her eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, she prepared to start again then frowned and looked around the car.

  “Why are you here and not in your berth?” she asked. “Surely you don’t plan on making the entire trip this way?”

  He could only shake his head. Rich women, they had no concept of the realities of life.

  “Actually, that is exactly what I plan on doing. Believe me. I will sleep just fine unless people keep disturbing me, that is.”

  Her eyes flashed as she realized he was talking about her.

  “Mr. Rhodes,” she began again once she had regained some control over herself. “We will be spending the next seven days on this train together. You …” again, she froze as she looked down at his gun.

  “Why are you wearing that?” she demanded.

  He laughed. “Because I feel naked without it.”

  The woman heaved a heavy sigh, obviously frustrated at having to deal with him.

  “Mr. Rhodes,”

  “Miss Carson,” he replied just because he knew it bothered her so much.

  She ignored him. “We are still in the east. There is no reason for you to wear a gun.”

  Dusty raised an eyebrow. “How much did your brother pay for that horse?”

  Her cheeks grew white as the wisdom of his words began to sink in.

  “I wouldn’t worry, Miss Carson,” he said. “Like you said, it is going to be a long trip. Before the week is out, I am sure you will find other things about me that bother you.”

  “Mr. Rhodes,” she said with a sneer. “Believe me, it will not take the full week.”

  He laughed. Perhaps the trip wouldn’t be as boring as he had anticipated. Not with the prospect of bothering Miss Carson. Heaven knew she was going to bother his dreams at night. The least he could do was return the favor during the day.

  Chapter Three

  The man was rude, uncouth, and insufferable. Everything about him was wrong. He showed no respect for others. No gentlemanly virtues. No … No class. That was it. He knew nothing of civilized ways.

  Were all the men out west like this? she wondered with a sudden fear.

  For the thousandth time, she worried if she was doing the right thing. Ever since that morning when Robert failed to appear at the church, she had wanted to get away. To run and hide, she was willing to admit it to herself. And with no money, her only hope was her brother.

  Instead. She had walked through society with her head held high. Refusing to admit anything was wrong. But deep down, there had always been the need to leave her world behind. It was only after she had faced down the sneers and rumors that she had decided to leave.

  Taking a deep breath, she started to remove her gloves. It was going to be a long trip, she needed to make this man an ally, not an enemy. Her bother would be upset if he thought she had hindered this man in his job.

  Besides, she was curious. More curious than she should have been. Something inside of her demanded that she learn more about this strange man. Everything about him was different. From the way he looked, to his manner, the way he saw the world.

  Strange and different. Yet, intriguing.

  “Tell me, Mr. Rhodes. Where are you from? Before the west, I mean.”

  He scowled slightly as if he was trying to work out a puzzle.

  “West Virginia,” he said. “A little town you never would have heard of.”

  “And what made you decide to move out west?” she asked as she folded her gloves and placed them in her lap.

  “After the war. It seemed like the thing to do.” He shrugged, but there was something behind his eyes that told her there was more.

  “You were in the war?” she said with surprise. He looked too young. “For the North, I hope,” she added.

  He smiled slightly and nodded. Giving her a sense of relief. Even after six years. Feelings about the matter still ran high. It was nice to know they would not have that as an issue between them.

  An awkward silence fell over them like a heavy cloud. At least it was awkward to her. He sat there like a block of stone, studying her. Oblivious of subtly and undercurrents.

  Suddenly, she felt a nervous twitter in her stomach. Swallowing hard, she desperately tried to think of something, anything, that would keep the conversation going. Of course, he was no help. The man had the social graces of a turnip.

  “Tell me about my brother’s ranch,” she asked. “He didn’t speak about it very much in his letters.”

  Mr. Rhodes surprised her by smiling. As if she had finally settled on a topic he liked.

  “Good grass,” he said as if that explained everything. “Not great. But good. Especially along the creeks and the river. Maybe a hundred square miles. Bounded by the Truckee trail to the south, the High Sierra to the West, the desert to the East, and the Ladder S range to the North.”

  His eyes left her as he looked off into the distance. A small smile creased his face. He was thinking of the ranch, she thought. At least he wasn’t thinking of ways to make her life more miserable.

  “What is it like, though?” she asked, suddenly very curious about her future home.

  “Beautiful.” He paused for a moment then sighed. “In a harsh way. The desert and the mountains will rise up and kill a man easier than a robin taking a worm. But, I don’t know. There is something about it that makes a man feel alive.”

  She paused for a second as his words seeped into her soul. “Beautiful?” she asked, surprised at his choice of words.

  He nodded. “A purple sunrise. The wind whispering through the pines. The way a wolf’s howl in the night sounds as it echoes down from the mountains. A heavy thunderstorm coming in from the south can dump enough water to drown half the country. But the wildflowers afterword will take your breath away. There is a calmness about the place. A stillness that is beautiful. That’s the only word I can think of that captures what it’s like.”

  Her brow furrowed as she realized the man across from her did have deep thoughts. It was just about things that had never concerned her before.

  “It sounds lovely,” she said with a small sigh.

  “I don’t know about lovely,” he said as his eyes focused on hers. “But it is beautiful. And I know beauty when I see it.”

  A feeling of joy mixed with fear settled in the bottom of her stomach. It was a man’s look. Appreciative, honest. The kind of look that a woman craved. At least from the right man.

  “Um …” she started as she stood up. Suddenly she felt an overwhelming need to be away from this man. Before she said or did something she would regret.

  “Um …” she repeated. “I believe the porter should be done making up my berth. I should check on him.”

  He smiled, almost a smirk, she realized. He knew perfectly well why she was leaving.

  “You do that,” he said without getting up. “He’s probably only done it a thousand times or so.”

  Rebecca forced herself not to growl deep in her throat. Insufferable. They had been having a perfectly wonderful talk. And he had to go ruin it.

  “Mr. Rhodes,” she said with a curt nod of her head as she quickly turned to leave.

  “Oh, Miss Carson,” he called after her. “If you get a chance, ask the porter for an apple.”

  She frowned, “Why?”

  “Prince asked for one.”

  Now the man talked to animals. Of course he did.

  “In fact,” he continued. “You better make it two.”

  She raised an eyebrow in
question.

  “We don’t want to have the goat feeling left out. Now do we?”

  Then, before she could acknowledge his request, he laid back, plopped his feet up on the bench across from him and tipped his hat low.

  She could only shake her head before she turned for the sleeping car and putting in a request for two apples. She was halfway to her berth before she realized she was doing his bidding. He was working for her brother. Being paid with family money. Yet she was doing tasks for him.

  Insufferable. That was the only appropriate word for the man.

  .o0o.

  Dusty startled awake as the train slowed to a stop. Rolling his shoulders, he stretched. Two days and that bench was getting harder than an iron skillet. He’d be a crooked old man by the time they got home.

  The sun was just coming up. There was enough light to see that they’d pulled off onto a siding.

  Did he have time to go to the stallion? He’d checked on Prince every time they stopped to load water or coal. The horse was always happy to see him. Even Billy was pleased. They were getting as bored as he was.

  Thinking about Prince naturally led to him thinking about Miss Carson. That and the dream he’d just had. She’d stayed back in her sleeping berth. He’d stayed up here in the passenger car. He wondered what she was up to. For two days they’d avoided each other like the pox.

  Maybe their last conversation had been useful. She’d kept out of his hair. Of course, there had been times he’d missed their back and forth. He’d enjoyed bothering her. There was nothing better than making a pretty woman rethink her thoughts.

  “Where are we?” he asked the passing conductor.

  “McPherson, Nebraska. We’re waiting for the Eighty-Nine,” the man said as he bent and looked out the window. “Locomotives don’t like to share the same piece of track at the same time.”

  Dusty nodded, “How long?”

  The man pulled out his watch and glanced down at it. “An hour and ten minutes if they are on time. And if I know Charlie, they will be.”

  Dusty thanked him and started to rise.