Although award-winning author Keli Gwyn is a native Californian, her mother was raised in Texas, so Keli has an appreciation for the Lone Star State and grew up drinking sweet tea so thick you could practically stand up a spoon in it. She and her husband live in the heart of California’s Gold Country. Her favorite places to visit are her fictional worlds, historical museums and the local hiking trail. Keli loves hearing from readers and invites you to visit her Victorian-style cyber home at www.keligwyn.com, where you’ll find her contact information. To reach her by mail, you can write to her at PO Box 1404, Placerville CA 95667.
For Love or Money
by Susan Page Davis
Chapter One
September 1874
Crockett Hart loped his spotted horse along the easternmost boundary of the 7 Heart Ranch, looking for wandering cattle. The Hart family’s herd grazed mostly on the range that comprised the large ranch. But sometimes strays wandered onto neighbors’ property, and the Hart men and their ranch hands had to bring them back. Of course, the annoying converse was that their neighbors’ stock often came over to the 7 Heart for ample grazing.
Still, the family ranch had made a profit nearly every year for the last two decades. If it wasn’t for his father’s recent edict, Crockett would think they were doing well.
Pa wanted to see all seven of his boys married. That was all well and good for some—like Hays. Though he was the youngest at twenty-three, Hays had been first to woo and wed a bride, Emma. Then Chisholm, next up the ladder at twenty-five, had made a surprise move while Crockett was off on the spring cattle drive, and found his match in the fiery Caro Cardova. Travis and Houston were not far behind, and Annie and Coralee had joined the family.
Well, Crockett just wasn’t ready. Maybe he would be, if there were plenty of suitable candidates in Hartville. The truth was, his work on the ranch kept him so busy, he seldom got off it long enough to go looking for a bride. But September had rolled around, and if Pa had his way, his three remaining sons would fall in line and pick themselves wives before the end of the year.
The smell of wood smoke hit Crockett’s nostrils, and he jerked his head up and scanned the horizon. Sure enough, off to the east, a column of gray smoke rose above the trees and rolling ground between him and the next ranch. The Haymakers were the closest neighbors in that direction.
He studied the smoke for a long minute. He hated to ride over there. They were probably just burning off brush, and old Boyd Haymaker would just as soon run off a neighbor as parley. But Crockett wouldn’t feel settled about it if he didn’t check to make sure everything was all right.
He rode through the line of cottonwood trees that served as a windbreak as well as a boundary line and then loped to what passed for a road to the Haymaker ranch. The stench of burning had grown more noxious, and the gelding snorted and tried to break stride, but Crockett urged him onward.
“It’s all right, boy. I won’t let you get too close.”
He rounded a bend and pulled back on the reins. The Haymakers’ house was engulfed in fire. Flames had torn through the wooden frame. As he watched, the shingled roof collapsed, and a flurry of sparks and debris flew outward.
The horse squealed, and Crockett let him turn away from the sight but held the reins short to keep him from bolting. He let the gelding high-step another hundred yards away and then tied him to a tree on the 7 Heart side of the road and hurried back toward the blazing house. The acrid smell of the fire overpowered all else.
The Haymakers had lost everything in their small dwelling, for sure. The sagging barn was still standing, but flames licked across the front yard toward it, and flaming brands had landed near it, starting smaller fires of their own in the dry grass. One had hit the barn roof and smoldered there. If no one did anything, it would soon blaze up.
Where was Boyd Haymaker? And what about his two children, Jane and Ben? As he cautiously approached the hole topped by a tripod of poles that was their well, the heat of the fire baked his face. Crockett sent up a prayer that the family had not been caught inside the burning house.
Jane pulled her roan mare to a halt at the foot of the hill path. “Get down now, Pa. Go up to the cave and wait there.”
“What are you going to do, girl? Where are you going?” Pa slid off the horse’s rump as he spoke and landed with an “oompf” on the rocky ground.
“To save whatever I can.”