Page 13 of The Outlaw and the Heir

"Good," he grunted, rolling the cigarette between his fingers as he stepped out into the sun.

I waited before following him outside, watching as he strolled down the main path that would take him to the main gates of the ranch. He was probably going to check the back half of the property, as he did twice a week, to make sure the outer boundaries had no damage. Not that it kept determined people out, but he believed that if the boundaries looked well cared for, it was a strong sign to anyone that we cared about what we had and would fight for it.

"Bear," I said aloud as I walked down the steps, not seeing the dog but knowing he was nearby. As far as I could tell, there was never a beast as loyal as Bear. He wouldn't let me get too far from his sight unless it was in the main house, where he wasn't allowed. He would seek shade and stay where he could see or hear me and join me when I left.

I'd taken only a few steps before a familiar furry head pushed against my elbow. It was the smallest touch, but it was his way of signaling he was there. Considering his sheer size and strength, I’d trained him so he didn't accidentally hurt someone while trying to be friendly and jump on them to show his pleasure at their existence. It was still a work in progress with some people, but he was generally well-behaved and gentle as long as I was around.

I hadn't gone with my father yesterday to get the three men settled, instead, taking the horses back to the stables to get them cleaned and fed after a full day of work. I knew what building they were being kept in, though. Originally, it had been intended as housing for ranch hands, but considering we hadn't foundanyone to take on the job, it seemed it was a place to keep the outlaws instead.

The only change was a large lock on the outside of the door. That was until I also saw a bar set between two brackets over the windows. Clearly, my father had decided to make a few adjustments before handing the reins over to me. I wasn't sure if that was his way of helping or if he didn't trust my ability to handle things.

After considering whether I should knock, I pushed my way through the door without warning. I could only see two men inside, the angry one and the dazed one. Both men turned toward the sound, the angry one scowling in my direction while the other simply watched me with a vaguely curious expression. It seemed a night's rest on something better than a board had done him some good because there was less fog behind his eyes, but I still didn't think he was completely in control of his mind.

"Where's the other one?" I asked, looking around for the man I was most worried about.

The angry one shrugged. “Out back, I guess. You lot don't tell us much. Just order us around. So we go like good little bitches, right at your heels."

A lovely thought. “What're your names?"

"What?" he sneered. "Don't wanna give us names? Maybe something cute like your mutt there?"

Bear gave a low huff as if he understood the implied threat and didn't think much of it. I, however, scowled. “Because if we're dealing with each other for a while, we might as well know each other's names."

The angry look never faltered. “Right, well, how about we play a game? You guess our names, and I'll tell you when to go fuck yourself. And here's a clue: that'salwaysgonna be my answer. I might be your slave, but that don't mean you need toworry about what our names are, ya hear? So order us around and be done with it."

Well, it seemed we were off to an amazing start. The other man hadn't said anything, though there was a small crease in his brow as he turned to look at his friend. Now I was paying attention, he reminded me of the stable hand who’d taken a kick to the face from an ornery ass about six months back. The stable hand had been lucky to get through the blow alive, and even luckier, he was only knocked a little stupid for a couple of weeks.

I remembered the sheriff had said something about the three of them fighting. Even best friends could throw fists when their backs were against the wall, and being behind bars was a pretty big wall to have at your back. On the other hand, the angry one seemed close to the other one. They looked like they’d come out the worst in a bitter barroom brawl. So either the feud was behind them, or they’d both been fighting the other guy.

Which was...a troubling thought.

After a moment, I decided to try a different tactic. Of the three, one was too angry and bitter to try to talk to me. The next had apparently taken a bad blow to the head that left him dumb for who knew how long, and the third was the one I least wanted to deal with, but at least he was willing. Someone willing to talk was usually willing to give up information...or at least, I might be able to figure out some information.

Giving them an impassive look and a nod, I retreated through the door, gritting my teeth in frustration once I was out of sight. I knew it wouldn't be an easy job. But I figured I could learn their names and go from there. Instead, I had to deal with the least liked of the trio and see what I could glean from him.

The angry man hadn’t lied because the third man was indeed out back, or at least behind the cabin under the shadow of the overhang. One of the newer maids stood off to the side, empty pails stacked at her feet. She gave me a polite smilebefore looking out to the stables, where the soft nickering of horses could be heard. There was another one of our workers there. Stanley was one of our veterans, and it was nice to see him standing there, hand resting on his holster calmly while he chewed his tobacco.

"Afternoon," he said with a nod.

"Afternoon," I said, letting my eyes drift to the large metal tub between us. The man I'd despised the most was sitting in the tub, the water reflecting the afternoon sunlight enough that I couldn't make out anything but what was above water, namely the middle of his shoulders up. I felt relief, which was unnerving, but I pushed it aside. "Huh, you're blond."

"Such is my fate...or curse, depending on who you ask," he said with a smirk, running a hand through his hair. "You should have seen thefirstbatch of water. That stuff turned blacker than a night in the dead of winter, and I didn't even get the chance to start scrubbing before it was too filthy. Thankfully, Miss Belinda was nice enough to get me some more. Even let me scrub some of it off before I got into the tub the second time so I’d enjoy it."

Without all the dirt caking his skin and hair, I found I disliked him even more. His clean features suited him and somehow made his irritating smile even more charming. The dark circles under his eyes were less pronounced, and his eyes were bright and curious as they gazed at me. Wet strands fell over what was a handsome face. Even the small, jagged scar on his forehead gave him a slightly roguish appearance, enhancing it rather than detracting from it.

My fingers twitched, and to my horror, I realized I was subconsciously resisting the urge to reach down and push the strand of sopping-wet hair off his forehead. “Getting some rest has only made your mouth worse.”

"You could say it's made it better, actually."

"I doubt that very much."

He chuckled, reaching up to push the hair out of his face. “I guess that'll depend on who you ask. Now, in any other circumstance, I'd ask to what I owe the pleasure of your company, but I think it's safe to say you're not here to make nice while I enjoy the first bath I've had in...well, too long."

"What, used to baths?" I wondered, frowning when Bear appeared beside me and sniffed the tub's edge curiously. He'd always shown zero hesitation regarding people, but I would have preferred he showedsomereluctance when dealing with an outlaw. Then again, he was a dog, a smart one, to be sure, but a gentle-hearted and friendly dog all the same.

"Why, Ambrose, are you trying to get a feel for me? Figure me out?" he asked with a wicked smirk. "Because if that's the case, you could just ask the questions instead of trying to be slick. Because I'll be honest, you and slick don't get on well together."

Alright, maybe I had been trying to figuresomethingout about him, but being called on it didn't mean I was going to fess up. Being sly wasn't something I was good at, that was true, but I still had some pride left, and I wasn't going to throw it away just because some silver-tongued ass figured me out quickly.

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