Erica Vetsch - The Bounty Hunter's Baby

Tumbleweeds and brush clogged the yard and piled up in the corners of buildings and fences, but the moonlight hid most of the faults of the buildings and grounds. He checked on the horses in the corral beside the barn, making sure they had water. The ground inside the rails was overgrown, so they’d have plenty of fodder for the time being.

A shame about this place, really. It had so much potential. Good grass, good water, close to town. When he’d worked here, it had been a prosperous ranch. Plenty of cattle, good horses, a full crew.

So much had changed since he was a stripling kid, digging post holes, stringing wire, taking the jokes and ribbing of the older cowhands, barely dreaming of something more than working for fifteen dollars a month.

Falling in love with the boss’s daughter.

Yep, a lot had changed. He was older, more trail worn. The Double J had gone to seed. And he had shouldered a responsibility that had him leg-roped to one place for the first time in years.

And yet, one thing hadn’t changed a bit. Esther Jensen still had the power to stir him. From the moment he’d first laid eyes on her years ago, his heart had started thumping and his wits had scattered to the wind. Her, with her brown hair and light brown eyes, the sassy toss of her head and the swish of her skirts, everything about her fascinated him.

But more than her heart-stirring looks...she had been kind. Kind to everyone from her father to the Mexican girls who cooked and cleaned for them. And lively. She loved to ride, and she was good with animals. Orphaned calves, dogs, young horses, she had a knack with all of them. Her love of animals was more than half the reason he’d gotten Rip and brought him home when he was just a puppy.

She just seemed to make the world a brighter place for being in it. She had made his life brighter, too.

And now he was back, however briefly. This time he vowed to leave her better than he found her, to try to make some amends for the hurt she’d suffered.

Thomas shouldered his way into the bunkhouse, grimacing as the door sagged on its hinges and ground along the wooden floor. He let his bags drop and dug in his shirt for a match, striking it with his thumbnail and holding it up to survey his temporary sleeping quarters.

“This is not encouraging.” He found a battered lantern with a little kerosene in it on the table and lit it, shaking out the match flame. Turning up the wick, he spied the bunk he’d been assigned when first hired on. The one right by the door, where the wind and dust and cold seeped in and where every cowhand passed by on his way to his bed. Lowest in the pecking order got the bunk by the door.

Rip nosed about, investigating corners. He sneezed and flapped his ears.

“Little dusty?” Thomas asked. He kicked the bunk, then picked up the mattress and shook it, wondering how many rodents might be nesting inside. Maybe he’d be better off in the barn or in his bedroll under the stars. This place needed a thorough cleaning before he could sleep here.

“Let’s check out our other options.” He snapped his fingers at Rip, picked up the lantern and his bedroll, and headed outside.

The barn wasn’t any better. No hay or straw, and if he didn’t miss his guess, bats had taken over the loft. He blew out the lantern and hung it on a peg inside the barn door. “Guess it’s outside for us, pard.”

They skirted the meager woodpile and the washtubs and kettles, ducking under the clothesline, as they headed toward the house. “The porch will be better than the dirt, don’t you think?”

A soft light glowed from Esther’s bedroom window and then went out. The bedsprings creaked, and then the only sound was the wind in the grasses and a far-off coyote yip.

Quietly, Thomas spread his bedroll on the porch floor and stretched out on it. Sleep dragged at his eyelids as Rip circled and flopped down beside him. Thomas buried his hand in Rip’s fur, glad for the warmth the big dog gave off.

Even with all he needed to think about, Thomas couldn’t keep his eyes open. Long days on the hunt, a sleepless night delivering a baby, a desperate ride to get the little fellow to help and an encounter with the only woman he had ever loved had taken their toll. Time enough tomorrow to think about what he should do about the baby’s future, about getting back on Swindell’s trail and about helping out Esther as much as she would let him.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.