The Lone Rancher

The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch

Prologue

According to Quin… Two years earlier…

Quin Cahill shrugged out of his best black jacket and tossed it over the back of Pa’s favorite leather chair. He watched his two younger brothers and sister, also dressed in black, file into the parlor behind him. If he’d spent a more hellish week in his life, he couldn’t recall it. Receiving the awful news that both of his parents had died in a wagon accident during their return trip from Wolf Grove had been a devastating blow. So many raw emotions—grief, frustration and guilt, to name only a few—had hounded him every step of the funeral procession.

Despite the regret and sorrow that weighed so heavily on his heart, he knew it was his obligation to call this family meeting and get on with life, as Ma and Pa would expect him to do.

Quin inhaled a deep, cleansing breath—and stumbled over a myriad of memories that floated through every room of the spacious ranch home. Resigned to fulfilling his duty as head of the Cahill family, Quin stared somberly at his brothers and sister before focusing his full attention on Bowie, who was two years his junior.

“Bowie, you’re in charge of raising, breeding, training and selling our extra horses,” Quin stated. “You’ll give orders to the hired hands who work with our remuda.”

“I have a job, in case you’ve forgotten, brother,” Bowie snapped. “I can hardly oversee the horse operation, the livestock and hired hands if I’m already working as the sheriff in Deer County.”

Quin tossed Bowie an annoyed glance, then turned his attention to his sister, Leanna. “Annie, you’ll be in charge of the meals, our house and its staff, just like Ma.”

His sister narrowed her blue eyes and pursed her lips. She looked a lot like Ma when she did that, Quin mused.

“Why do we have to change things right now?” Leanna asked. “We haven’t even dried our tears yet. I need to go upstairs and bawl my eyes out. And honestly, I’d rather move out on my own than meekly follow the path you lay out for me.”

After she’d given her two cents, as Bowie had, Quin sent her a silencing frown. “This isn’t about what you want, Annie. It’s about what’s best for the 4C. We are family and we stick together.”

Quin half turned to face his youngest brother. “Chance, you’ll be my second-in-command.”

Chance stepped forward, looking every bit as defiant as Bowie and Leanna. “So I’m your hired hand?”

“You’ll be in charge during the spring and fall while I’m on cattle drives,” Quin tried to placate him.

“Maybe I don’t want to stay on the 4C Ranch,” Chance spouted off.

Quin’s temper tried to slip its leash, but he grabbed on to it with both hands. Unfortunately, Bowie spoke out again, ruining what was left of Quin’s good disposition.

“I have my hands full as a lawman and I’m not staying at the ranch. You may have bossed us around as kids, but we’re not kids anymore. Ma and Pa are dead. That’s the end of an era.”

Quin felt as if he’d been sucker punched. Bowie was defying Pa’s wishes and he damn well knew it. “How ungrateful can a man get?” He scowled. “You think you’re honorable and responsible enough to draw lawman’s wages? You can’t even own up to family responsibility.” He looked Bowie up and down and smirked. “You’re hardly a model sheriff. You need to resign and take your rightful place on the ranch, as Pa wanted.”

Bowie puffed up with indignation and took a challenging step toward Quin. “I’m good at what I do.”

“You should be using your supposed talent to round up the bandits and rustlers that threaten the 4C and your own family,” Quin countered. “Do I need to remind you that Pa was none too thrilled when you walked away from here to defend people you didn’t even know?” He glared angrily at Bowie. “You disappointed Pa. He grumbled to me plenty of times. And who do you think got stuck with the extra chores? It sure wasn’t Annie or Chance.”

“Is that why you’re mad? Because of the extra work?” Bowie snorted.

No, Quin thought, it was because he felt as if his family was ignoring the hopes and dreams of their parents. His past resentments didn’t hold a candle to the sense of betrayal roiling through him right now.

“Hell, hire another hand or two,” Bowie suggested flippantly. “It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

“How would you know what we can afford?” Quin taunted. “You haven’t been around much and I’m fed up of covering for you. I’m surprised you even bothered to attend today’s funeral.”

The snide remark had the desired effect—insulting Bowie, who growled furiously. Not to be outdone, Quin growled back.

“You hightailed it out of here after Clea North jilted you. Can’t blame her for thinking you weren’t good enough for her.” Quin knew Clea was a sensitive subject, but Bowie was playing hell with his temper and he was past controlling it now. “You thumbed your nose at family obligation, pinned on a badge and refused to compromise for anyone.”

“All I’ve ever done is compromise!” Bowie yelled. “And walk in your shadow for all of my twenty-nine years! Well, I’m sick of it! I’m not quitting my job to become your errand boy!”

In a fit of temper, Bowie shoved Quin against the wall. Quin fell against Ma’s treasured porcelain wedding bowl, cutting his right hand in the process. The keepsake crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces—just like the broken dreams of his parents.

Annie cried out behind them, but Quin was too intent on returning the angry shove. He lowered his shoulder and knocked Bowie into Pa’s big leather chair, then he shook off the sting of the bloody slice on his hand.

“Accept your responsibility,” Quin commanded harshly. “Let someone else get his head blown off defending law and order. I need help with this ranch. It belongs to all of us. Our first obligation is here and here you’ll stay.”

Bowie bounded to his feet and glowered at Quin. “Go to hell and take your orders with you. Nobody put you in charge.”

“Someone has to take charge,” Quin defended hotly. “You aren’t around often enough to do it.”

“You’re not Pa,” Bowie hurled derisively. “You’ll never be able to fill his boots, no matter how hard you try.”

The verbal jab prompted Quin to thrust back his shoulders and glare heated pokers at Bowie. “At least I’ve been here to fulfill Pa’s dream of expansion.”

“Yeah,” Bowie jeered. “Until you went to the spring cattle sale in Dodge City and got waylaid by a couple of whores. ’Scuse my language, Annie.”

Quin was furious with his brother for hitting another raw nerve. Bowie was right—damn him—but Quin was too proud and stubborn to admit his shame in front of his defiant family. Already, grief and guilt were gnawing at him. He’d failed his parents by gallivanting an extra day during his return trip. The selfish craving for whiskey and women had prevented Quin from driving his parents to the important meeting. Regret was eating him alive.

“I covered for you more times than I care to count while you chased after one skirt or another! You knew I might not be back in time. You should’ve been here to take up the slack. For once,” he retaliated. “Especially when you got word that Pa had injured his wrist. You knew he would need help driving to and from Wolf Grove to meet with the railroad executives to establish a town on our property.”

“I was working that day,” Bowie gritted out defensively. “There was a dangerous prisoner in my jail.”

Chance marched over to stand nose to nose with Bowie and Quin. “I’m not staying to take orders from either of you. If I do, I’ll never be anything but your kid brother. Pa’s gone and I’m through being a ranch hand.”

Hearing Chance defect, just like Bowie, was worse than a hard slap in the face. Quin itched to go for both brothers’ throats—simultaneously.

“You’re part owner of this ranch,” Quin muttered between clenched teeth. “It is your obligation to work here.”

“Ranching isn’t in my blood, Quin,” Chance flashed heatedly. “I only stayed this long for Pa.”

Quin exploded in frustration. “Ma and Pa are barely in the ground and you two are turning your backs on this ranch? Pa wanted us to be the most influential ranching family in Texas and, by damned, we will be!”

“That’s what you want, Quin,” Bowie lashed out.

Chance nodded. “I’m going.”

“Me, too,” Annie stated decisively.

Quin stared at his kid sister as if she had betrayed him—which she had. “This is our home, our way of life, our birthright! You aren’t going anywhere and neither are Bowie and Chance,” he decreed, his voice pounding like a gavel.

“You just watch,” Bowie had the audacity to smart off.

Fists clenched, Chance got right in Quin’s face. “I’m damn sure quitting this place.”

“Stop fighting and yelling at one another,” Annie demanded, stepping between them. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“That goes for you, too, little sister.” Quin tossed her a pointed glance. “You have plenty of regrets already. What a shame that Ma’s last thoughts were probably about your childish tantrum over a new dress.”

Despite the tears filling her eyes, her spine stiffened and she tilted her chin at Quin. “I’m not playing maid to you and I’m not staying on this isolated ranch!”

His temper boiled over when his little sister—the one he’d vowed to protect and defend—became as insolent and disloyal as his brothers. “You’ll do as you’re told,” he snapped in a tone that brooked no argument whatsoever. Not that it did any good, damn it.

“No one made you ruler over us all,” Leanna shouted disrespectfully. “You can try to hold the ranch together, but you won’t be able to do it alone. Bowie has his own life. Chance doesn’t want yours and neither do I.”

“You’re going to find a job?” he asked caustically. “There’s only one place I know where a woman like you can get by doing nothing more than smiling and looking pretty for pay. I can’t picture you as a saloon girl.”

“If that’s where my dreams lead me, then so be it.” She stiffened her spine again and went toe to toe with him. “I think we should sell the ranch and each take our share.”

Quin felt as if his little sister had stabbed him right through the heart, then given the knife a painful twist. “Are you out of your mind? Sell off chucks of the ranch? Over my dead body!” he thundered, appalled by the blasphemous suggestion. “Ranching is our way of life. It’s who we are. We just buried Ma and Pa on this land.”

“Making a bigger name for the 4C, for the Cahills, won’t bring back Mama and Papa,” Leanna reminded him.

“This ranch is our destiny,” Quin declared.

“Yours, maybe. Not mine,” Chance—the traitor—said.

Quin wanted to hit something—beginning and ending with his selfish, betraying siblings. “Fine! Follow your dreams and see how far you get without your family to back you up. I’ll be here to see the 4C grow and prosper, doing what Ma and Pa wanted, expected.”

He flashed a hard, steely-eyed stare. “All profits go into expanding this ranch. If you leave, you’re walking away with no more than the clothes and belongings Ma and Pa bought for you.”

Chance scoffed. “More than what I expected.”

“Take your favorite horse and get the hell out of my sight!” Quin shouted at all of them.

“I hardly think we need to ask your leave for that,” Bowie said, and smirked.

Quin made a stabbing gesture toward the front door, as if his brothers and sister were too dense to know where it was. “Go! Defy your legacy if you want. You might as well walk over our parents’ grave on your way past, too.

“You think leaving here will help you find out who you are?” Quin looked them up and down—thrice. “I can save you the trip. You’re quitters and I’m ashamed to call you family.”

Chance muttered something foul that Quin didn’t ask him to repeat.

Bowie looked as if he wanted to smash his fist into Quin’s face. Quin almost welcomed coming to blows to appease his frustration. However, Leanna grabbed Bowie’s arm and said, “No, Bowie, don’t make this worse.”

“Stay out of it, Annie,” Bowie snarled, shaking off her hold.

“None of you are worthy to bear the Cahill name,” Quin hurled hatefully. “Maybe you should take an alias to hide your shame for defying Ma and Pa. I sure as hell don’t want to claim any of you!”

Bowie glared holes in Quin’s starched shirt, spun on his boot heels and stalked out.

In tormented fury, Quin watched Chance and Leanna fall into step behind Bowie. He called them every name under the sun as he stormed onto the porch to watch them mount up.

When all three stared at Quin as if he were the black sheep of the family, proud defiance took control of his tongue. “Don’t think I’ll beg you to come back because I won’t!” he bellowed before they rode away.

Quin reentered the house and slammed the door so hard dust dribbled from the woodwork. He wondered if he’d ever see his traitorous family again. Overwhelming feelings of grief and anger, not to mention the deep sense of betrayal, left him thinking he didn’t give a damn what became of his family.

Quin scanned the empty hallway—and felt his heart twist in his chest. Deafening silence filled the home that had once brimmed over with lively voices and bustling activity. He’d never felt so alone and abandoned in his thirty-one years of existence.

And he blamed his brothers and sister for every moment of his misery…