Brandon smiled at the redheaded, freckle-faced boy who had spoken. He glanced around at the other boys. "Ben's in charge," he said loudly. "I expect to see a lot of good progress on this fence line when I get back. You all do as he says, and work together."
"Yes, sir," the boys chorused, turning back to their tasks with obvious disappointment.
"Come with me," Brandon said, taking Allie's hand. He started toward the house.
"Brandon—"
"No, Allie." His tone was firm. I've got some things that need sayin'. Things you need to hear."
Chapter 22
When they reached the cabin, Allie took the biscuits from the oven and while they cooled, she began to scramble the eggs.
Brandon smiled to himself in the mirror as he cleaned up. He could hear Allie beating the eggs with a vengeance in the kitchen. She was angry, but not at him, he knew. At the circumstances. At Fate. They were finally together, with a chance at happiness, and the rug was going to be yanked from under them again.
He flexed his hand. Sore as hell. But still not as bad as he'd anticipated. Not good enough to outdraw anyone either, right now. He sighed. He was going to be depending on luck. His future – and Allie's – was going to be decided today.
He sponged the sweat from his face and upper body, then reached for a clean shirt and drew it on.
Confidence is half the game, Owen had said earlier. A phrase often repeated among the gunmen Brandon knew. Though he supposed it was a saying anyone could've learned, the way Owen had said it gave him cause to wonder. What kind of man was Owen Morris, anyway? Who was he, really?
Brandon shook himself out of his thoughts. A friend, right now – that's who Owen Morris was. And in a fight, that's all that mattered.
He reached for his gun belt and buckled it on, opening the chamber, an automatic check for loading. It was full, as he'd known it would be. He snapped it shut and holstered it.
He opened the door and met Owen just as he walked out. Owen smiled. "It'll be fine, Brandon. You just have to convince the missus to wait here. We don't want her getting hurt."
"That's where I'm headed."
"Good luck. I don't envy you." He clapped Brandon on the shoulder. "We'll head over to the line shack."
"Take Jimmy to show you the way. Just have him veer off before you get too close."
"What about you?"
"I'll bring Jay with me a ways. Have him do the same thing." Brandon looked Owen up and down quickly. The pinstriped suit pants, white shirt, and dark suspenders marked him as a big city slicker like nothing else could have. "Owen…are you sure about this? There's gonna be shooting, and I don't like putting you and Sam in danger."
"We won't be. I promise you." Owen gave a secret smile and studied the floor. "Things aren't always what they seem." He glanced up suddenly. "Better go talk to Allie. We've got to head on out. We don't want Carver getting suspicious."
Brandon put out his left hand. "Thanks, Owen. I owe you."
"It's not over yet," he said as they shook. "Let's end it. We've got cattle pens to build."
"See you at the shack."
As Owen turned to walk outside, Brandon headed for the kitchen.
Allie stood in front of the stove, stirring a large skillet of scrambled eggs. She didn't look at him, though he knew she felt his presence behind her by the stiff way she held herself.
"Allie."
She paused in her cooking, then laid the spoon on the rest and turned to face him. She crossed her arms, her eyes spitting fire. He closed the distance between them and pulled her arms down gently. Her hands came around his waist, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
He could feel the tension in her shoulders relax beneath his fingertips as he rubbed his hand slowly across the material of her dress. He held her that way for several seconds before he spoke.
"I don't want you coming over there."
To his surprise she didn't argue, or question. He decided to explain anyway. "Carver wants more than me, Allie."
At that, she stood back away from him, uncertainty and disbelief clouding her expression. "What, Bran? He's not like Arnie. Don't tell me you think he wants my place too—"
"Your place…you…whatever else he can get in the bargain. But not the boys. And not Jay." He sighed. "Carver's every bit as dangerous as Smith, if not more so."
"But I don't – I never—"
"I know." He gave a soft chuckle. "I know. But it doesn't keep him from wanting. From trying."
"How do you know?"
"Why do you think he turned on Arnie Smith? They both were after the same thing."
"But I don't want either of them! Oh, this is all so foolish! I just want them to leave us alone."
"After today, I think the odds of that happening will be very good. Considering at least one of them will be dead."
Allie held his look. "Brandon – I'm so afraid." Though she held back her tears, her voice shook.