“You and what army?”

Through the drone of their banter, Payton tried to quell panic that generally visited only after the sun went down and the day ended. He wasn’t getting any younger. His bones creaked and ached, compliments of breaking horses and wrestling mean steers. One day he’d wake up all alone with only the ornery longhorns for company. No one wanted a broken down has-been. In a couple of years he’d be forty. His time had passed.

“Hey, Payton, you never did say what happened when you toted the bag to Amanda Lemmons.” A twinkle lit Bert’s eyes.

Payton should’ve known he hadn’t heard the last of that. They’d given him hell last evening until he finally marched out to Wild Horse Lake and counted the bullfrogs until he ran out of numbers. When he’d gotten back they were all snoring pretty as you please, which suited him just fine.

Amos’s bushy beard twitched. “You don’t leak when you drink so I don’t reckon she shot you. A case of bad aim? Or did by some miracle a brave soul pour ice water on her to put out the flames before you got there?”

“Nothing happened. Not one thing.”

Other than he found his hat that had been smashed and filled with boiled carrots.

And he’d learned the value of a woman’s pain.

“I bet you boys anything she invited ol’ Payton in for tea and crumpets,” Bert said. “Or maybe she handcuffed and fed you mutton stew.”

A growl rumbled in Payton’s throat. “That’s enough.”

“You can tell. We won’t breathe a word,” Amos promised.

“No one here but the cows and they don’t gossip,” Bert teased.

They’d badger Payton to death until he told them something. He had to nip this thing in the bud before someone got hurt. He sighed, tossing out the grounds in the bottom of his cup.

“I returned her property. She thanked me and I left. Now let it drop. If I hear anyone say a word out of line about the woman you’ll answer to me. She has a right to her own business whatever that may be. You’ll respect her or you’ll wish you had.”

“I swear the man’s got it bad.”

“Amos, I warned you. Shut up before you’re sorry.”

Felipe slapped his thigh. “I think he like her. Maybe she kiss him.”

“For the last time, let it be.” Through a narrowed squint Payton noticed a rider kicking up a dust cloud. He made out Joe Long as he drew closer.

Damn, the friend still acted downright strange!

Reminded him of the time Joe stuffed some mutton under the cantle of his saddle. Took him a week to find the source of the stench and the damn thing still stank to high heaven on a warm day. Just like he’d done back then, Joe went around sniffing, wearing a quirky grin.

Payton had better get things squared away with Lucy and pretty pronto.

Chapter 9

Payton didn’t have long to wait for Joe’s next move. The sun squatted on the horizon by the time the hands called it a day and rode back to the ranch. They’d had a particularly hard day that left Payton’s butt dragging in the dirt. All he wanted was a hot meal and his bunk. He’d also have settled for a bath, but that wouldn’t happen until Saturday.

His spurs jangled as he stepped inside the bunkhouse. Thoughts of his material welfare froze in his brain. Someone had tied a ball of white fluff to the foot of his bed. When it saw him, the cotton ball opened its mouth and bleated.

“Who the hell put that blasted thing in here?” he thundered, looking around for the culprit. He’d wring Joe’s neck. But the foreman had vanished.

Bert laughed so hard he rolled on the floor. The black scowl Payton shot him could’ve singed the hide off a greased pig. The look certainly seemed to get the laughing hyena’s attention. Bert stood, covering his mouth to hide the grin. “Looks like you have a new bed partner, McCord.”

Felipe untied the creature and cradled it in his arms. “I like him. My father was a sheepherder many years ago.”

“Is this the start of your new herd…uh, I mean flock, Payton?” Amos roared until he had to sit down and catch his breath. Tears ran down the old man’s rough bristles. He didn’t pay the murderous glare Payton leveled on him a speck of notice.

“What you gonna do?” Felipe patted the soft head.

“Before or after I kill Joe? I’ll have to take the damn thing back I suppose. No, don’t look at me with those sad, brown eyes. We’re not keeping it. It doesn’t belong here. We’re respectable cowmen.”

The door opened and Joe stuck his head inside. “Aw, dad-burn it! I missed the fun. Was he surprised?”

With a growl, Payton lunged and tackled his friend before Joe could block the attack. “I oughta rub your nose in the smelly ball of yarn. Surprised? Yeah, I’m overjoyed.”

Joe grinned in the headlock. “I thought you would be.”

“Leave things alone or you’ll see what other surprises I have in store for you.”

In a heartbeat, Joe sobered. “You can’t make my life any more worthless. On her worst day, Lucinda is my one and only. Losing her took my reason for waking up in the mornings.”

The gray, forlorn misery crawled inside Payton. He released Joe and motioned him outside for more privacy. “You haven’t lost her. Don’t ever think that. Lucy hasn’t given up squatter’s rights on your house, which tells me she’s planning on staying.”

“You reading a crystal ball or tea leaves?”

“I know that when a person decides to end something for good they pack up and leave. So Lucy isn’t finished.”

“Never looked at it that way.”

“Give her a few more days and she’ll beg you to come back.”

Come daylight, after Payton got through, Joe would be out of the doghouse one way or another. He’d had it. Someone would listen to reason or else.

“Reckon I ain’t got nothing but time.”

“Then you can cart this lamb back where you got it.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “Can you be a good friend and do that? I don’t feel so hot.”

“Skin your own stinking skunks, don’t look at me.”

“Will you do it if I promise to lay off the foolishness?”

Payton wouldn’t fall for that trick. “No.”

“I can’t leave tonight. Mr. Sanborn wants to see me after supper. Probably wants a tally of the branding. After the business part is done he’ll want to play poker. You know how he gets being cooped up with womenfolk all day.”

“Get one of the others to cart the thing back then. It’s not my problem.”

“Are you forgetting how I saved your life when you first hired on? You owe me.”

Payton’s mind drifted back to winter and the blizzard that wiped out a third of the herd. He’d ridden with the men to try to get a bunch of cattle out of the icy creek bed down in a draw before they froze to death. Domino lost his footing on the ice and went down. The horse was all right, only scared. He got up and ran, leaving Payton buried in the snow with an injured leg. Payton thought for sure he’d freeze to death before someone found him. And he would have if not for Joe, who scoured the drifts looking for him.

Yeah, he owed a debt for sure. But enough to take a bullet?

“I shouldn’t, but seeing how down on your uppers you are with Lucinda and all I guess I could take pity this once. Need I ask where you got it?”

“Nope. Amanda Lemmons will be less than thrilled to see you. I sort of borrowed it.”

“Figured as much.” If the Navajo was still there, Payton might find himself losing his hair. He didn’t relish returning to the scene of the crime. Surely, the woman wouldn’t be too mad though since he’d be wagging the dumb lamb home.

Domino gave him a walleyed stare when Payton lifted the saddle and slung it again on the horse’s back. He draped the bellowing sheep across his lap and set out.

Twilight fell by the time he crossed onto Amanda’s ranch, and it got darker still before he saw the glow from the adobe’s windows. It seemed welcoming if a body didn’t know better. Unease twisted his gut. The pitch black was eerily still.

Payton figured on quietly putting the lamb into the fold with the rest of the scrubby clan and leaving with no one the wiser. Only the noisy ball of fluff had other ideas. The blessed animal evidently got a whiff of its mother because Payton never heard such a ruckus from a small mouth. Then the collie started barking as if the world had come to an end and he had to alert everyone. Payton let loose a string of cussing.

The hellacious racket outside the house aroused pinpricks in places Amanda didn’t know they could crawl-like her brain and her heart. Something or someone was out there. Her feet hit the floor. She grabbed the shotgun and burst out the door to see a spotted appaloosa standing near the pen. Atop the animal sat the silhouette of a man bold as could be. A lamb draped across the saddle bellowed its head off.

The dirty, rotten thief! And he had the audacity to linger even after she’d caught him.

Fury swept past reason. With a squeeze of the trigger, orange flame spat from the killing end and sent hot lead whistling past the interloper’s ear.

“Move and I’ll make you regret it, mister.”

The scoundrel’s hands lifted. “This isn’t how it looks.”

Amanda stepped closer. Recognizing the proud profile of the man who had seemed to have integrity riddled the strength she wrapped around her. Payton McCord had shown her quiet respect. He’d even done the unimaginable-made her question her hardened opinion of cowmen. And now he was taking her lifeblood. A firm clench of her jaw stilled its trembling.

Damn McCord! Why did he have to go and prove again how easily someone with an honest twinkle in his eye and sinful way with words could take her in?

“From where I stand I see a sheep-thiever. That lamb didn’t hop up there on your lap by itself.”

“Confound it, I’m returning the darn thing.” Danger rumbling in Payton’s throat said he wasn’t a man to cross, but she was too busy trying to salvage her pride to heed.