Page 10 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Well, now he has two, I guess, at least for the time being," I said, no longer paying much attention to Ambrose. Not that I could have. Pushy was going out of his way to ensure I was paying attention to him above anything else.

I didn't know what game Ambrose had been trying to play with me, but I could make a decent guess. It was the only horse without a comfortable saddle, which meant my ride back was going to be less comfortable than anyone else's. Stallions weren't known for their good temperament as riding horses, yet they had brought one along, and Ambrose had decided to give that horse to me. It was obvious I was the one Ambrose didn't like, but if his father had issues with Ambrose already targeting someone, he kept the thought to himself as he mounted up.

I was a little slower than everyone else to mount up. My stiff limbs and the lack of saddle made it difficult, but I managed. Thankfully, there was a bridle so I could steer Pushy back the way he'd been led. I wasn't sure what was going to happen but if the past hour had shown me anything, it was going to be interesting.

It was nice to have something to look forward to again, even if it was just a little.

AMBROSE

"I just don't see the point," Joseph said with a frown because, of course, my brother wouldn't let the subject of our newest workers go. "We could have waited a while and got perfectly good men that would have helped around here."

"And now we do have perfectly good men around here to help," our father said as he took a drink of water.

"What we have is a trio of criminals. We don't even know their crimes," Joseph said, his lip curling. "And you want them on this ranch?"

"Ain't about wanting, it's about needing," came the calm reply. "You were the one saying not long ago that we needed more hands if we were going to think about expanding. Think of this as a way to find out."

Joseph's brow twitched. “Are you...you wantmeto deal with them?"

"No," our father said, his cool gaze turning toward me. "I expect the work will deal with them...and Ambrose."

My stomach clenched, but I fought to keep my expression neutral. “You really think I'm the one to deal with them?"

"I think you'll find a way, or at least I hope you can," he said, watching me carefully. Once more, I knew I was under hisstrict evaluation and fought all the harder to keep my face from betraying how much I loathed the idea and how much it was putting me off my lunch.

Lizzie spared me from needing to reply immediately as she gave a visible shudder. “I don't like the idea of outlaws working on the ranch. Joseph is right. We don't even know what they've done."

"What they've done before doesn't matter. What matters is what they do from this point forward," came our father's reply as he pushed his plate away. "And if they prove themselves to be better than their past, then good for them. We need more hands out there with these animals, and eventually, we'll need more people to run supplies."

"You can't be seriously consideringoutlawson supply runs," Joseph said in shock.

"Kinda makes sense," I said without thinking and then felt my face warm when six pairs of eyes swept toward me, my brother annoyed, my sister shocked, and my father simply curious. Yes, that seemed like a curious tilt to his head as he watched me momentarily before speaking again.

"And what makes you say that?" he asked softly.

I tried my best not to squirm under his attention and instead focus on answering the question. “Not right away, of course. These three men are...unknown and dangerous, and one of them, in particular, is a little too slick for anyone's good, but for now, if they can prove they're willing to work, they free up space for us to move people around. Instead of making people stay here, they might be better moving supply lines and stuff for us."

"And in the future?" he asked, still watching me.

"Well, I don't know how long it would take, but if they prove to be trusted, who better to know an outlaw's mind than someone who used to be one?" I said with a shrug. "They'd knowwhen trouble is likely to be around and what tactics they might use when attacking our caravans. If they can be trusted, that is."

Joseph scoffed, giving me a scowl that told me just how stupid an idea he thought it was. “And when are we supposed to trust an outlaw? Before or after they shove a knife in our backs?"

"I said if they can be trusted, not when," I told my brother, furrowing my brow.

"They can't be trusted, not ever. Once you live a life like that, you can't know anything else."

"Good to know. Then maybe stick to crunching numbers and shaking hands with people since that's all you've known and not questioning what other people do."

Joseph's eyes widened, and his hand fisted on the table, pushing himself up. He froze when our father stood, dabbing at his mustache and clearing his throat. The argument might have ended temporarily, but the furious look in my brother's eyes told me it was far from forgotten. It wasn't often I threw something back in his face, but it was irritating me that he was dismissing the idea without even considering it.

Not that I thought it was a good idea, but I had better sense than to question it with our father sitting right there to hear everything. Just because I didn't agree with our father on how he handled things didn't mean I was stupid enough to believe I was the only one who knew the right way to do things. Our father had been doing things long enough. The least we could do was trust his success hadn't simply been a matter of luck.

"I hope you remember to speak more carefully when you're around Mr. Reed later this week," our father told my brother, stepping away from the table. "You've managed to get the one person who could get in our way in a good mood. I wouldn't want you shooting yourself in the foot because your temper got the better of you."

"No sir," Joseph said, ducking his head to stare at the table.

"Good. Ambrose, with me," our father said before turning and leaving the room.

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