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“From a mutual friend,” Troy drawled, his tone just as soft and even more taunting than Cole’s had been.
The mutual friend, Ally knew, had to be Misty. Apparently her oldest brother knew it, too, because for a second, sheer hatred burned in Cole’s icy eyes. He took a step in Troy’s direction. Troy stepped forward to meet him, and funeral or no funeral, there would have been a fight—Ally was sure of it—but the Reverend grasped Cole’s arm, holding him off.
Cole didn’t resist the Reverend, but he didn’t look away from Troy’s steady gaze, either. “Later, O’Malley.”
Troy nodded. “Yeah, later.” With a final, mocking look at Ally, and a polite tilt of his hat to the other women, he headed toward the parking area.
The other men slowly followed, while the women stood in silence, watching until Troy climbed into his pickup.
“Well, thank goodness that’s over, and without violence, too,” Sue Ellen said, disappointment heavy in her quavery voice as Troy’s truck spewed gravel pulling out of the tiny lot, and sped to the highway with small tornadoes of dust churning behind its oversize tires. She heaved a sigh, then patted Ally’s arm as they started walking toward the cars again. “You are so lucky, dear, to have four brothers to watch out for you!”
“You certainly are!” Emma stated.
Ally wasn’t sure she agreed. She planned to talk to Cole as soon as possible concerning the decisions he’d made—without consulting her, thank you very much!—about Bride’s Price. But for the next two hours she was too busy playing hostess, serving up the tuna-and-pea casserole Emma Mae had brought and making sure everyone had plenty of coffee and second helpings of Sue Ellen’s famous peach cobbler, to even try to catch Cole alone.
After eating, everyone remained in the big kitchen talking around the scarred mahogany table that had once been Ally’s mother’s pride and joy. Glad the meal was over, Ally pushed her chair from the table and stretched out her legs, slouching as a wave of weariness swept over her.
Like many of the homes in the area, the Cabrerra ranch house was built of thick limestone blocks, excavated by the earliest settlers well over a hundred years ago. A bathroom complete with claw tub had been added in the thirties; a gas stove had replaced the wood-burning one in the fifties. Since then, not much else had been done to the place. Ally had worked hard the past week, cleaning the ranch house and trying—with limited success—to brighten the old kitchen by bringing in flowers and replacing the dingy curtains with crisp white ones she’d bought with money skimmed from the grocery allowance. Nothing, however, could hide the chips in the yellow tile counters, or the battered condition of the cupboard doors.
When she caught Emma Mae looking critically at the cracked linoleum on the floor, Ally said a shade defensively, “We’re redoing the whole kitchen, you know. Right after the next stock sale.”
Cole frowned at her across the table, shaking his head, and Ally tilted her head inquiringly in return. Did he want their plans to remain a secret for some reason? If so, tough luck, because Emma declared bluntly, “I’m glad to hear it. This house can use some updating,” and if Emma knew something—not to mention Sue Ellen—the whole town would soon know about it, too.
Perplexed by Cole’s strange behavior, Ally remained silent as the conversation rambled from the sorry state of beef prices, to the never-ending heat, to the merits of the new computer that Cole had recently purchased to replace their old model. Only half listening, Ally was jerked from her thoughts when Emma announced she’d set up a Web site for the town.
“A Web site?” Ally repeated. She glanced at the older woman in surprise. “I didn’t know you were hooked into the Internet.”
“I’m not. My computer is too old. I set the Web site up on the one the O’Malleys donated to the town library. Janie helped me,” Emma said, nodding at the younger woman—an action that caused Janie’s cheeks to turn bright pink as everyone looked her way. Ignoring Janie’s embarrassment, Emma added, “As a librarian, she knows plenty about computers. We posted all the information from the school as well as the latest issue of the Tangleweed Times.”
Ally was impressed with the women’s initiative; much less so with the O’Malleys’ generosity. Unlike Sue Ellen, who chirped repeatedly, “How kind of the O’Malleys to do something so generous, so good for the town!” she didn’t think a couple of thousand was that big a deal to a family worth millions. But, oh, what a difference a few thousand could make in her own life!
Possibly the Reverend had the same thought in regards to the new roof the church needed, or maybe—like Ally—he noticed the way the Cabrerra males all fell silent at the name O’Malley. In either case, he announced he and Janie needed to get home, and the small party quickly dispersed.
Guests gone, the Cabrerra brothers disappeared, too. Lincoln and Luke went to the barn to tinker with a broken ATV water pump, while Kyle rode out to check on the stock in the south pasture. Cole, as he did every evening, retreated to the study.
Ally was left with the cleaning up. She glanced around the kitchen, shaking her head, her mouth tightening. When needed, she helped brand, sort, feed and work cattle. She knew how to shoe the horses and mend a fence. But while it would never occur to any of her brothers to stand idly by while she worked outside on the ranch, it also never occurred to any of them to volunteer to pitch in with the often less physical but more tedious chores in the house. And lately when she asked for help, their attitude was so much of someone doing her a favor, that she preferred to just do it all herself.
So she set to work putting away the leftover food, wiping the chipped tile countertops and table and doing the dishes. Once finished, she hesitated, absently straightening the damp towel hanging beneath the farmhouse sink as she glanced out the window. The searing sun was setting, easing the harsh daytime heat. She longed to saddle up old Boomer and go for an evening ride, explore the dry riverbed or maybe catch up with Kyle to check the progress the boys had made mending the fence in the southwest pasture. Instead, she put a slice of cobbler on a plate and resolutely headed in search of Cole.
When she reached the study, she paused, leaning her shoulder against the doorjamb. Seated behind their father’s big carved desk, her oldest brother was staring unseeingly out the window at the same view she’d admired a few minutes earlier. Although evening had edged in, the light filtering through the wavy glass was still bright enough to highlight the faint lines etched beside his eyes, the creases in his lean, tanned cheeks and the stern set of his mouth.
He wasn’t smiling; he rarely smiled anymore, Ally realized. He’d always been rather serious, but at least he used to be more approachable. It had been big brother Cole whom Ally had run to after their mother had suddenly died in a horseback riding accident when Ally was only four. And twenty-year-old Cole who’d comforted her when their father, after a long heartrending battle, finally succumbed to lung cancer when she was fourteen.
Remembering those dark times, Ally sighed, and Cole glanced at her. His blue eyes softened as he saw the plate in her hands.
“Come to fatten me up, Al?” he asked as she walked toward him.
“I noticed you didn’t have dessert earlier.” She set the plate on a pile of papers littering the big desk. “And you might as well enjoy some while you can, because when we start the kitchen remodeling—”
“Actually,” Cole interrupted her, “I wanted to talk to you about that. We’re going to have to wait with the kitchen.”
Ally sank in the chair in front of the desk to stare at him in dismay. “Why?”
“Because we just don’t have the money right now to start a major project on the house.” Reading the disappointment in her expression, he added apologetically, “I was going to discuss it with you, but I just couldn’t seem to find the right time.”
Her lips tightened. “You mean you couldn’t find the right way to tell me that the new kitchen that was so all-fired important when you were planning on bringing a wife home became considerably less so when it came to your sister.”
“That’s not the way it was at all,” he said, deep voice sharpening defensively. “I knew we had to have a new computer—” he nodded at the machine that sat center stage, glowing softly on the broad oak desk “—but I didn’t expect to have to replace the engine on the pickup this year as well as get another baler. You know we can’t do without either of those, and the new computer will make charting the breeding records, as well as doing the books, a hundred times faster and easier.”
“And buying a new stove and dishwasher would make my work a hundred times faster and easier, too.” Ally shook her head in frustration. “For goodness’ sake, Cole, the oven door falls off every time I open it too far. Do you know how hard it is to pull out a pan of hot biscuits with one hand, while trying to keep the oven door on with the other?”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” He sighed, running a hand through his thick dark hair. “I’ll get Luke or Linc to weld a new hinge on it. And as soon as we can afford it, I’ll buy you a new stove. I promise.”
Ally wasn’t impressed with his assurance. “If you let Vorquez go, we could afford the stove right now.”
Ally knew that George Vorquez, the land claims man Cole had hired to prospect for oil, was one of the most respected geologists in the county. But if their father, who had the Circle C tested years ago, hadn’t met with success, she doubted they’d have any now.
But Cole’s jaw tightened. He picked up his fork and moodily stabbed at the crust of the cobbler. “Oil’s there, Al. I know it is.
It just takes time and a bit of money to find it. And then we’ll be richer than we ever dreamed of being.”
“So instead of putting in a new kitchen, you’re taking a gamble that we’ll find oil.”
“It isn’t a gamble, Ally,” Cole said firmly. “It’s an investment.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Ally refused to argue with him on a subject she knew he wouldn’t budge on. “The point is, Cole, you’re not being fair to me.”
“I said we’ll fix the stove—”
“Yeah, when someone gets around to it.” Her lips compressed. “Besides, it’s not just that. It’s other things, too.”
“Like what?”
“Like.” She tried to think of a recent example. “Like when you got the cell phones. You gave one to Kyle, one to each of the twins and kept the other one for yourself. Without discussing it with me at all.”
“I wasn’t trying to slight you, Al. The plan just came with four, so I handed them out to the boys, and figured you could share with me.”
“I don’t want to share with you. I want my own.”
“But why? Who are you planning on calling?”
“No one,” she admitted, giving up on the battle. “And there’s no one planning to call me.”
His face softened. “Sure there is. Tell you what—you can have the cell. I’ll share with Kyle.”
She looked at him helplessly. He just didn’t get it. The problem was, she didn’t want to always feel like Cole—or the others—were doing her a favor. She wanted them to recognize that she worked just as hard as they did. That she’d earned her share.
“It’s not the phone, Cole. It’s that you don’t treat me like an equal. You don’t discuss anything with me. Not anything concerning the ranch or the house. Not even Bride’s Price.”
Cole’s frowning eyes lifted to meet hers. “What about it?”
“Don’t you think you should have consulted me before refusing Troy’s offer?”
Cole shifted his gaze back to the cobbler. He gave it another poke. “No.”
“That’s my land, Cole.”
Setting his fork aside, he lifted his dark eyebrows as he met her eyes once again. “No one says it isn’t. But I’m the one Eileen put in charge to look out for your best interests.”
Ally folded her arms across her chest. “And that’s what you were doing today? Protecting my interests?”
“Of course. What else would I be doing? We need that grass for the herd.”
“Don’t give me that. We have more than enough range for the herd we’re running now. You know and I know that if anyone else had wanted to lease that land, you would have agreed in a red-hot minute. The only reason you refused is because it was Troy O’Malley.”
Cole’s stern mouth curled in a grim smile. “Seems like a good enough reason to me.”
“Well, not to me.”
His smile faded and his blue gaze narrowed on her face. “Since when have you become so concerned about Troy O’Malley?”
She gave a short laugh, waving a dismissing hand at the thought of mocking green eyes. “I’m not concerned with him at all. What I want—what I need—is that money he offered. To put my own plans into action.”
“What plans?”
“To move into Eileen’s house.”
Cole snorted. “You’re kidding me. Why would you want to move out there?”
“To be able to do what I want.”
Genuinely perplexed, Cole frowned at her. “That’s ridiculous. What can you do at Eileen’s house that you can’t do here?”
I could paint the place pink, hang lace curtains at all the windows if I decide to, without anyone groaning about it. I wouldn’t have to clean up constantly after four messy men. I could put on lipstick and eye shadow—experiment with makeup—without being teased that I look like a rodeo clown. I could take hour-long baths without an irritable male pounding on the door asking “Have you died in there?” And I could go out on dates, stay out all night if I choose to, without one or all of my four brothers intimidating the hell out of the poor guy I’d gone out with.
She was fed up with being the fifth, inferior Cabrerra brother, Ally realized tiredly. She just wanted to be by herself—run her own life, make her own decisions—without any bossy men telling her what she should and shouldn’t do.
But Cole wouldn’t understand any of that; he’d simply dismiss it as female nonsense. So Ally gave him a reason he could understand. “I want to start my own business. Breeding and training horses.”
Cole’s expression tightened. “That’s a dream, Ally. There’s no money in that.” Impatiently, he shook his head. “Cattle is our concern.”
“Our major concern. I want to start a side business, breeding and training Peruvian Pasos for working herds and pleasure riding.”
“Peruvian Pasos,” he repeated flatly. “What’s wrong with good old American quarter horses?”
She shrugged. “Nothing. But I want to develop Peruvians.”
He took a deep breath, clearly summoning patience. “Fine. But we can’t afford to support two households right now, or invest in more horses. Maybe in a few years—”
“I don’t want to wait a few years, any more than you want to wait years to find out if there’s oil on our land. Not if I don’t have to. And leasing to Troy means that I don’t have to.”
“I’m not leasing Bride’s Price to Troy O’Malley.”
Ally’s spine stiffened, and her gaze narrowed on her brother’s stubborn face. “No?” she asked softly. “Is that because he’s an O’Malley? Or because he stole Misty from you?”
She shouldn’t have said it; Ally regretted the comment as soon as it left her lips. Cole jerked as if she’d slapped him and his expression turned to stone.
When he finally replied, he didn’t answer her questions but stated in a flat, hard voice he’d never used to her before, “O’Malley is not getting that lease. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Not waiting for her reply, he stood and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Ally sat for a moment, frozen in place by the force of his anger, hurt constricting her throat and causing a prickly burning behind her eyes.
Then an answering anger rose up inside her. Blinking the pain away, she glared at the closed door.
“Oh, yes, there is something I can do, brother dear,” she said softly. “I can get married.”
Chapter Two
“During the breeding season, it is wise to observe the cattle from a distance, using field glasses if necessary, to remain unseen and thus avoid influencing their natural behavior.
“Don’t hesitate to enlist the aid of other experts in this endeavor. They may have knowledge that you lack…. ”
—Successful Breeding: A Guide for the Cattleman
Resolving to marry was one thing; finding a husband quite another. Especially if all the single men in town were intimidated by your four older brothers.
Well, she simply had to overcome that obstacle, Ally decided, lying in bed that night, pondering the problem. What she needed to do was get close enough to her prospect—once she had a prospect—to explain her proposition of a temporary marriage before her brothers could chase him off. Getting dressed up would help her get close. Every woman over the age of five knew that men—like bulls—were easily distracted and attracted by clothing. Flutter a red cape—or a sexy red dress—in front of them, and they almost couldn’t help chasing it.
The trouble was, she didn’t have a red dress—or any sexy clothes—nor the money to buy some. The only decent dress she owned was her bridesmaid dress from Cole’s canceled wedding … a dress she’d never worn.
Yes, that was the answer, she decided, settling down to get some sleep. She’d return the dress and get something new.
Her brothers headed out at dawn the next morning. After they left, Ally hurried to clean up the breakfast dishes, feed the chickens and start a load of laundry—sparing a few extra moments to flush the cigarettes she found in Kyle’s pocket. Bad enough that he risked his life riding bulls; he didn’t need to risk cancer, too.
Anxious to reach Tangleweed when the stores opened, she was on the road at nine. By ten, she was arguing with Tammy Pitts, owner of Tamara’s Treasures.
“I’m sorry, I can’t refund your money,” Tammy said.
“But I’ve never worn it,” Ally told her. “It’s like new.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Tammy insisted. “Not only has it been six months since you purchased the garment, it was altered. It can’t be returned.” She pushed the dress across the store counter, adding with patently false regret, “Store policy, you know. One my regular customers completely understand.”
The condescending glance she swept over Ally’s worn jeans and John Deere T-shirt—clean and green and bought on sale at the feed store—made Ally lift her chin. Ally had known Tammy Pitts (née Peale) all her life. After trapping William Pitts, a man twice her age, into marriage, Tammy had convinced her henpecked husband to let her open a boutique which—since most of the town refused to pay the prices Tammy charged—primarily served as a front for Tammy’s shopping addiction.
But when planning her wedding to Cole, Misty’d been determined to give her hometown as much business as possible. So she’d herded her bridesmaids to Tamara’s Treasures. Although the others had been dismayed by Tammy’s “hick-town slim pickin’s,” as one anorexic redhead had put it, Ally’s only dismay had been the cost of the final selection. Emptying her small savings account for a dress she’d probably wear once had scandalized her thrifty soul. But she’d bitten back her protests, not wanting to embarrass either herself or Cole in front of the other women, for whom price was obviously not a consideration at all.
Serves me right for not speaking up then,Ally thought bitterly.Because sure as stink on a cross-eyed skunk I’m going to be embarrassed, anyway, once Tammy tells everyone in town that I tried to return the dress.
