The Cattle Baron’s Law (Preview)

Prologue

Sarah Cates looked up at the sign outside Simpson’s General Store. She’d watched a friend in her hometown of Meadow, Texas, carve and paint it. He’d done an exquisite job. The designs were intricately drawn swirls and curls, and inside the curls were various grocery and household items that could be found inside. The words were in a fancy style, one Sarah had only seen in fashion magazines when she visited Houston.

Sarah had grown up in Meadow on a small farm with one crop per season, a garden that produced only enough for the family, two milking cows, and a chicken coop. Her father took care of the land, so she’d gone to the Simpsons that morning to ask for a job. They also owned the bank and the restaurant but needed no help in those places.

If not for the wealthy ranchers whose property surrounded the small town, renaming Meadow in their honor might have been suggested. The Simpsons weren’t egotistical, though, and such a change had never happened.

Sarah stepped up to the porch, glancing over her shoulder when she heard a loud pop behind her in the street. It was Max and Derek, playing with pop guns. She watched the two boys as they chased one another, kicking up a cloud of dust from under their leather cowboy boots.

She turned back to the entrance and went through the thin wooden door, letting it clap against the door jamb once she was inside. A bell tinkled above her head. She grinned at the older woman behind the counter next to the register.

“You don’t need that bell,” she quipped. “The screen door is enough to let you know when someone comes in.”

Ethel Simpson, a round, white-haired woman with the biggest genuine smile Sarah had ever seen, trundled around the counter, her arms outstretched. “Not all of my customers let it slam shut like that. Come give me a morning hug. How are you feeling, dearie?”

Sarah giggled, closing her eyes as the shorter woman enveloped her with big, soft arms that felt like pillows. She squeezed Mrs. Simpson in return.

“Oh, it’s good to see you, Mrs. Simpson.”

“I think you’re old enough to call me Ethel, my dear,” the woman said, stepping back a bit and gazing into Sarah’s light brown eyes.

“I wouldn’t dare!” Sarah replied. “I respect you too much for that. I’ll just call you Mrs. Simpson, if that’s okay.”

“Whatever you wish. Are you looking for something?” Mrs. Simpson turned away, sweeping sparkling blue eyes over her inventory.

“Actually, I was wondering if you and the mister need any help in the store here.” Sarah felt another jolt of nervous energy, her nerves tingling. She really wanted the job. There were things she wanted to do, and she couldn’t do them without money.

“You want a job here?” Mrs. Simpson looked contemplative. “I’ll have to ask Mr. Simpson.” She patted Sarah’s arm, giving her another friendly smile. “You go ahead and look around, and I’ll go ask him. He’s in the back, working the books. You know, he loves writing numbers in his ledgers.”

She spun around and wobbled out of the room. Sarah’s heart was filled with affection for the woman. As Mrs. Simpson passed through a door to the back of the store, Sarah turned to the goods the general store had for purchase. She didn’t need anything, so she just walked up and down the aisles looking.

New ribbons had come in. The last time she was in the store, they’d only had red and blue ribbons left. Now they had an assortment, having added green, orange, and yellow to the display.

Sarah picked up one of the spools, releasing just the end so she could feel the soft silkiness of the ribbon. The fabric was thick. They would handle stitches.

She lifted her nose when the strong scent of cinnamon made her hungry. Mrs. Simpson had opened the door and come back through, carrying a plate with two cinnamon rolls on it.

“Look what I’ve brought for you, my dear. You must take one home for that little sister of yours. How is Laura doing?”

“She’s better now, thanks for asking.” Sarah took the plate and chose one of the cinnamon buns as her own. She put it in her mouth and took a bite, closing her eyes as the gooey filling made her taste buds feel like they were in heaven.

“I know she’ll love this, thank you again,” she continued when she finished the bite. “I’ll take it right home to her.”

Her little sister was ten years old and had been running a fever intermittently for a week. She’d collapsed in church on the previous Sunday and was now confined to bed.

The door opened and the bell tinkled. Both women glanced to see Ernest Brown, a wealthy local rancher, had entered. Sarah’s stomach instantly turned, but she kept hold of her senses.

“Did… did you ask Mr. Simpson about the job?”

“I did. He said we could use some help and I’m to bring you back there to talk about when you’d like to work.”

“You gonna start workin’ here, Sarah?” Mr. Brown said, a tinge of anticipation in his voice.

“I might,” Sarah responded lightly.

“I reckon that gives me an even better reason to come in and shop.” His smile was wide. It was probably genuine; Sarah wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to disrespect him, even though he gave her a strong sense of apprehension. He turned his eyes to Mrs. Simpson. “I’m headin’ out to Lubbock after I get a bag of rice from you, Ethel. But I’ll be sure to stop in a lot more now.”

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Mrs. Simpson said, moving in front of Sarah. “You go on back and talk to Henry, Sarah. Follow me, Mr. Brown. The rice is over here.”

Sarah went past them, hurrying toward the door that would soon be between her and Mr. Brown. She could feel his eyes on her back and tried not to noticeably hurry.

Chapter One

Thomas Harper squinted his blue eyes, looking around. He and his pa had come to a livestock showing and auction in Lancaster, a larger town near Meadow, his hometown. Rob wasn’t his real father. But he’d learned everything he knew from Rob and he cared deeply for him.

His own father had died in a house fire when he was just a toddler. He wouldn’t be alive if his mother hadn’t pulled him from the fire. She had died shortly afterward from breathing in too much smoke. Rob and his wife, Mary, owned the ranch on the property next to theirs. It was much larger, and even twenty years later, the land his parents—and now he—owned sat dormant, what was left of the house still standing as a monument to those he lost.

Someday, he would tear it down and build a new one. But that was a plan for the future.

To Thomas’s right, a group of men, clearly ranchers who knew each other, were having a lively conversation about a rodeo two of the men had recently participated in. Both had won a prize and were telling animated, maybe slightly exaggerated, stories about how they’d achieved those accomplishments.

To his left, a line of booths stretched out, selling pretzels two-for-a-penny, lemonade, coffee, and a variety of candy and chocolate. He’d read in the Meadow News, that Lammes Candies had opened again and were stocking all the stores with chocolates, brittles, and taffy. They had their own booth, three down. He wasn’t as interested in the candy as he had been five years ago, but the article had made him wonder if it would taste the same now that he was a grown man.

Thomas felt like an old man sometimes. He’d shed a lot of his youth before he even hit twenty, throwing himself in the work on the big ranch with his adoptive father. He was nearing his twenty-second birthday and felt like he was thirty sometimes.

“What you thinkin’ about, boy?” his pa asked, slapping him on the back so hard he had to take a step forward to keep his balance. “Yer a mile away!”

“Just thinkin’ about that candy over there, Pa,” Thomas said. “Thinkin’ about gettin’ some chocolate and lemonade. It’s swelterin’ out here.” To put emphasis on his statement, Thomas swept the hat off his head and used it as a fan.

“Well, you got that right.” Rob had been wiping the sweat from his forehead and neck so much for the last twenty minutes, and his handkerchief was soaked through.

Thomas squinted up at the sun, unhindered by clouds as it hung in the clear sky. “I’m thinking those lemon drops and lemonade might not do well together on a day like today. I’ll shrivel up.”

Rob chuckled.

“All right, y’all men come on down here and let’s get this thing started!” the announcer yelled.

Rob grabbed Thomas’ arm and pulled gently. “I wanna get up close. I’m tellin’ you, we’re gonna win big. We’ve got the best pigs and cattle these folks ever seen. You watch!”

Thomas gave his pa an amused look. He hadn’t seen him so excited since the last time they’d come to one of these events. Rob’s eyes sparkled with delight as he hooked his thumbs underneath his suspenders and held on, his barrel chest bulging out with preemptive pride.

Thomas knew how important these competitions were to his adoptive father. They had participated in them since Thomas was a boy. The competitions weren’t just for Rob’s pride. If they won awards, which they sometimes did, they would get the highest price at the auction for the livestock they’d brought to sell.

With the profit from the sale, they would purchase more animals at a lower price, breed a few more, and sell them at a much higher price the next time. Rob had a way of knowing when animals were unhealthy. He always picked the right ones.

“First up, we got the Branson Ranch from Littleton. Here’s his fine pig, Bronco. Bronco is just a sample of what the…”

Even though it was louder than usual since Rob had dragged him closer to the stage, Thomas’ mind drifted. He wanted to get back to Meadow, where he felt comfortable. He didn’t mind crowds, except when it was a bunch of sweaty, stinky ranchers and cowboys. Sometimes that seemed like the only type of person he was ever around.

After the first three participants, Thomas jogged his pa’s arm with his elbow. He leaned over and murmured, “I’m gonna go get some chocolate.”

“Wait!” Rob hissed. “They’re almost done! We’re gonna get the prize!”

“I know that already, though, so I don’t need to stick around,” Thomas quipped.

“Just wait a minute!”

Rob was too excited. Thomas felt bad for wanting to leave so he stayed, sighing and rolling his eyes lightheartedly. “All right…” he mumbled, jutting out his jaw like a sulking child while holding back a grin.

“The judges have decided!” the announcer on stage yelled out, grabbing his attention. The man in the fancy suit and hat was waving a sheet of paper in the air. “I’ve got the results right here and we have a winner. Not new to this competition, the winner of best overall goes to the Harper Ranch from Meadow, Texas!”

Rob pumped a fist in the air, his grin from ear to ear. His blue eyes darted to Thomas’ face. “Didn’t I tell you, son? I knew we could do it! I knew it!”

He grabbed Thomas’ arm and squeezed so hard Thomas was sure he’d have a bruise there the next day. “Go get your prize, Pa,” Thomas said, laughing under his breath. His pa’s excitement was contagious. “I’m gonna go get some chocolate.”

“You bring me back a big bag, son!” Rob said, pounding him on the shoulder as he went past to get to the stage steps.

Thomas laughed as he made his way through the men who were still standing around, mumbling about their own livestock and preparing to buy and sell.

He felt a lot better when he broke through the crowd into the fresh air. He couldn’t help taking a deep breath, pulling off his hat and waving it at himself. He was cooled by a refreshing breeze and closed his eyes just for a moment as he walked toward the Lammes Candies booth.

Chapter Two

The light in the saloon was dim. Thomas coughed lightly into his fist, keeping his head down. He’d had three beers and was feeling warm and comfortable. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and slid down in the seat, stretching his legs out under the table in front of him.

He heard a loud whooping and lifted his head just enough to peek out from under his hat. The scent of many cigars drifted under it, filling his nose. He peeked through the smoke to see his pa clinking his thick mug against another held by the man Rob was dancing and singing with.

Thomas shook his head and dropped the hat back down, hiding the excitement and chaos from his eyes. He leaned back, his head resting against the wall behind him. If he tilted the chair just slightly onto its back legs, he was close enough to the wall that it would keep him upright. He set the hat over his eyes and listened to the music, content that his pa was happy.

He’d just drifted off to sleep when he felt a kick to one of his legs under the table. He grunted in surprise and lifted his hat.

“What’re you doin’ there, young man?”

It took a moment for Thomas to see the man’s face clearly. When he did, he instantly recognized him. He grinned, pulling his long legs back and scooting in the chair so he was sitting on it properly.

Pushing his hat back, he said, “Hello, Mr. Crane. How are you doin’? How’s the missus?”

“It’s been a helluva year, boy!” the man exclaimed, pulling out one of the chairs and plopping his large body down on it. “The cattle ain’t been eatin’, the grass ain’t been growin’, the rain ain’t been fallin’.” He leaned over the table, grinning at Thomas. “Why don’t you tell me what yer secret is. How d’you keep gettin’ these prizes? You boys won this prize last year, didn’t ya?”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, and the one before. But we didn’t win the year before that.”

Mr. Crane lifted his eyebrows. “You don’t say! How about the year before that? You win that one?”

Thomas picked up his mug, tipped it toward Mr. Crane, and winked, taking a drink.

Mr. Crane slapped a flat, large hand on the table. “I knew it!” he bellowed so loud Thomas felt the urge to pull away from him.

He grinned, though, and chuckled in his throat. “I don’t know nothin’, Mr. Crane. That skill belongs to my pa. He’s the one who knows how to raise and feed cattle and pigs so they’re healthy, quality livestock. I’m just along for the ride.”

“You’re a lucky boy, I’m tellin’ ya. A lucky, lucky boy.”

It wasn’t until that moment that Thomas realized Mr. Crane was just about as drunk as he could get. That beer he had his hand wrapped around would probably be his last. His buddies would be carrying him out of the Golden Boot Saloon.

Thomas tried not to stare but he was curious to see if he was actually going to watch this large man topple right out of the chair and onto the dusty wooden floor.

“Mr. Crane,” he said, leaning forward. “You all right, sir? You might want to get some coffee in you. Sober up a little.”

He didn’t like how the man’s face seemed to sag. His eyes rolled back in his head.

“Pa!” Thomas called out, lifting out of the chair and leaning over so he could grab Mr. Crane by the shoulders.

The piano music was loud, the voices chatting and stomping boots as men danced made it impossible for Rob to hear him. Thomas moved around the table and pulled on one of Mr. Crane’s arms, helping him to stand.

“I’m gonna take you outside, Mr. Crane. You need some fresh air. Okay? Can you walk? Help me to help you, Mr. Crane. Let’s go. Come on.”

“You… you gonna help me…” Mr. Crane slurred the words. “You don’t… don know me…”

Thomas shook his head, slinging the arm he had in his grip over his shoulders. He put one arm around the man’s waist, astonished he could get it around a girth like the rancher’s.

“Okay, step forward, there you go. One more, and another and another… that’s right…”

Thomas passed Rob, who happened to glance over at him as the two men went by. A few seconds later, Thomas felt some relief as weight was lifted off his shoulders. He looked over to Mr. Crane’s other side and saw Rob had joined them.

“What’s going on here?” Rob asked. “You need some help?”

He was now taking half the weight and Mr. Crane sagged between them. They got him back on his feet and struggled to keep him there, inching him toward the door.

“I think he needs some fresh air, Pa,” Thomas said. “I was just gonna get him outside. He’ll be all right, I mean, I’m hopin’.”

“It’s you!” Mr. Crane could barely get out the words. He smiled at Rob, his head bobbing as he tried to keep it upright. “You got the magic touch with them livestock. You do. He told me.”

Now that Rob had his other arm, Mr. Crane didn’t have a hand to point with, so when he curled his hand around, he was practically choking Rob.

“Ugh, let go. You’re gonna kill me!” Rob exclaimed.

“Sorry! Sorry about that! Sorry!” The big man released his tight grip.

They were at the door. Rob turned sideways and went through the swinging doors first, opening them with one arm stretched out. Thomas felt the big rancher sliding off his shoulders and didn’t notice Mr. Crane was actually falling until he was about to crush Rob.

“Whoops. Whoa there, Mr. Crane!” Thomas called out, grabbing for the rancher before he could collapse.

The struggle continued until they had deposited Mr. Crane in one of the wooden rocking chairs on the porch of the saloon. The porch was connected to the walkway that ran along each side of the street. There was no one outside. It was late at night.

Thomas was ready for bed. It had been a long day. Ending it with drinking three beers and immediately having to assist a much larger man out the door hadn’t been on his agenda. Frankly, he was shocked he’d even had the strength to help the man.

Thomas bent over, placing his hands just above his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“That… that was too much work. I’m exhausted. Goin’ to bed.”

“I’ll come with you,” Rob responded. “Let me go in and pay our tab. You wait here for me.”

Thomas nodded, still gulping in air. He glanced at Mr. Crane. The man had passed out and was now snoring loudly.

“He’ll be all right,” Rob said. “Don’t pay him no mind. “You’re a good boy for helpin’ him, Thomas. I’m proud of you.”

Thomas gave him an affectionate grin. “Thanks, Pa. Not really a boy anymore, though.”

“You’ll always be my boy, Tom. I mean that.” He reached out and ruffled Thomas’ hair, something he hadn’t done in years.

Thomas laughed, standing up straight, feeling proud of himself like he was still that same little boy Rob had praised all through his growing years.

“Thanks, Pa. A few more drinks?”

Chapter Three

If there was one thing Sarah truly enjoyed, it was waking up to the smell of breakfast cooking and coffee in the morning. She got dressed quickly and left her room, going down the hall to Laura’s room.

She opened the door a few inches and peeked in. Her room and her sister’s were both on the side of the house that got a fresh spray of sunshine every morning.

She could see Laura still in her bed, her face turned away from the door. Her head rolled and their eyes locked.

“Sarah?”

She went in but didn’t approach the bed. As much as she wanted to, Doc Ferrell had told the whole family not to approach because what she had was contagious. Sarah hated being terrified to be in her little sister’s room.

Laura was almost like her own daughter. She’d been ten when her sister was born and had helped her mother raise the little girl.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Sarah asked, keeping her voice soft and gentle. She’d begun to think of Laura as a fragile little creature who couldn’t bear too much stress lest she break.

“I’m all right. Momma is going to bring me a tray later. I hope I can go back to school soon. I miss it and I miss my friends.”

“I’m sure you do, my dear. I’m sure you do.”

“Will you tell them I said hi?”

“I will.” Sarah’s heart ached to give her sister a hug. They looked so much alike, the same chestnut brown hair and eyes to match, their oval faces, their features fitting so well together.

Sarah and Laura were both good representations of their mother. Their father had always praised the Lord that neither of his daughters looked like him. This was a joke in their family that always brought a smile to Sarah and Laura’s faces.

“Will you come see me later and we can play some cards?”

“Absolutely!” Sarah smiled wide and blew her sister a kiss. Laura pretended to catch it in mid-air and slapped her cheek lightly. She sent one back and Sarah mimicked the motion.

“Love you, sis,” Sarah said.

“Love you, sis,” Laura parroted.

Sarah slipped out the door and closed it almost all the way. She heard, “Leave it cracked, please,” and left the door about six inches open.

She hurried down the hallway to the kitchen, which was just off the living room. One whole wall in the kitchen was a huge bay window that went from the floor to the ceiling. On the other side, the green grass stretched out to the meadow, which was dotted with flowers of every color imaginable.

It was her father’s design. The whole house was. All one floor, almost a maze of rooms and hallways. She was certain he’d built secret passages in the big house but had never found any. It was her luck Laura would find one before her.

Her mother was standing in the kitchen by the stove, looking over the rim of a large pot she was stirring. Steam from the pot swirled around her cheeks. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun. It made her mother look matronly and stern when that was far from the truth. She could be a bit demanding, but Sarah knew it was only because she loved her daughters and only wanted the best for them.

“Good morning, Mother!” she said enthusiastically when she entered the kitchen. She walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which her mother leaned closer to get.

“Good morning, my dear. How is Laura? Is she ready for her breakfast?”

“Yes, of course she is. I hope she can come out soon. She shouldn’t be stuck in that room. She needs more sun than what comes through her window in the morning.”

Sarah went to the table and pulled out a chair. Before she sat, she stretched her arms up into the air. It felt good to stretch her spine. She sat down just as her father popped his head in.

“Good morning, beautiful ladies!” he declared. His bright, energetic eyes darted from his wife to his daughter and back again. He was smiling wide.

The look on his face gave Sarah a comforted feeling. Things were always good when her father was smiling like that. It meant their books were in the black, their chickens were laying eggs, and all was right with the world.

“Good morning, Papa!” she cried, jumping up from her chair and rushing to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast with us?”

“Can’t. Got a big day ahead. I’ve already done the morning chores, so you can relax today. Well, until after lunch. Regular chores then, eh?”

Sarah laughed. Her mother had also approached and Sarah backed off to let them greet each other with a kiss on the lips.

“I’ll see you later, dear,” her father said to her mother.

“Be safe out there, Alex. Come home today.”

Her mother told him that every day. Sarah had never heard the story that started that tradition. She always wanted to ask but never had.

With her father gone and breakfast ready, Sarah made herself and her sister a plate. Her mother took it up to Laura’s room and Sarah sat at the table.

She’d only eaten a few bites when her mother came back, made her own plate, and sat down across from Sarah, in Laura’s usual chair.

“I want to take you to town today to look for a new dress,” her mother said.

Sarah felt an uneasy twitch in her chest. “For what?” she asked.

She knew what the dress was for but didn’t want to admit it. She was dreading the upcoming dance the hotel was throwing.

“You know what it’s for,” her mother said abruptly, pointing at her with her fork. “And you’re going. You are twenty years old. Aren’t you interested in getting the attention of a… a man you could marry?”

Sarah sighed and ate some of her breakfast before answering. “Are you talking about Ernest Brown?” She felt a bit irritated.

Her mother gave her an innocent look. “Not necessarily. But you aren’t looking at any of the men in town who are your age.”

“Ernest Brown is twice my age,” Sarah reminded her mother. “And he has already approached Pa about me. I need you to stop Pa from getting his hopes up. And you, too. I don’t want to be married to him. He strikes me as rather dangerous.”

“Well, if not him, someone! You need to find a husband. You don’t want to wait until it’s too late.” Her mother stabbed at the scrambled eggs and ate some before continuing, pointing her empty fork at her daughter. “You know Georgia can’t go alone. She will dance with every man until her feet are raw and burning.”

Sarah’s shoulders relaxed at the mention of her best friend’s name. “Well, you’re right about that. She is a bit forward, isn’t she?”

“Got no common sense, you mean.” Her mother shook her head, continuing after another bite of eggs. “I’m going to buy you a beautiful dress and you will wear it to the dance to keep Georgia from making terrible mistakes if for no other reason. That girl…” Again her mother shook her head, looking down at her plate. “She doesn’t have the sense God gave a piglet.”

Sarah couldn’t help laughing. She and her whole family adored Georgia.

“I guess you’re right, Mama. I’ll go. I don’t want Georgia making a fool of herself. Plus, she can protect me from unwanted men asking to dance.”

“Like Ernest Brown?”

Sarah shrugged. “You know that, Ma. I don’t even think Pa likes him.”

“No, I don’t believe he does.”

Sarah finished and set her fork on the plate, picking it up to take it to the washbasin. “I know I need to find a husband, Mother, and I will. Especially if it will keep Mr. Brown from asking Pa about me again. I felt like I was doomed when he came around last spring.”

Her mother shook her head. “Your father and I aren’t going to find your husband for you or force you to marry anyone. But you’re twenty years old and it’s time you left the home and started a family of your own. I suggest finding a man closer to your age.”

Sarah nodded, setting the plate down. That was what she wanted, too. There were at least a half-dozen available men around her age. She just had to focus on one.

“Maybe there will be someone at the dance for me,” she put in, turning around.

Her mother smiled. “That’s my good girl,” she said softly. “Go get your shawl. We’ve got to get to town before all the pretty dresses are gone.”

Chapter Four

The saloon was emptying a few hours later when Thomas saw a familiar face enter. It was Ernest Brown from Meadow. He was with another man from their town but Thomas didn’t know him well enough to even call him an acquaintance.

Ernest wasn’t the most likeable of men. He was one of the wealthiest ranchers in town and didn’t mind touting that wealth. He hadn’t caused a lot of trouble for Thomas, but he was a suspicious kind of character, someone Rob did not recommend working with.

As he walked past, Ernest glanced down at Thomas and Rob. He stopped abruptly.

“Well, howdy!” he said, taking the third chair of the four at their table. “How are y’all? Didn’t know you’d be here at the auction.”

Rob answered before Thomas, who decided to stay quiet and let his pa do the talking.

“Sure were. Didn’t see you. Were you at the back?”

Ernest scrunched up his face up and scratched his salt-and-pepper beard as if he’d been asked a complex question.

“Well, I wasn’t there when they were givin’ out the prizes. Didn’t have any livestock in the game.”

Rob lifted his eyebrows. “No? What happened?”

Ernest shook his head. “Didn’t have any good enough. I’ve seen what y’all bring and last few years, my cows and pigs ain’t been up to par.”

Thomas yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “I’m gonna head to my room, Pa. See there in a few?”

Rob looked a little surprised but he nodded. Thomas didn’t want to say he’d had enough cowboy talk for the day and just wanted to lay in a cool, clean bed.

“All right, son. I’ll be there soon.”

Thomas shook Ernest’s hand and nodded at his pa, leaving the saloon and heading for the hotel.

“Hold up there, young man!”

He was almost to his room when he heard the owner of the establishment calling to him in a loud whisper. He didn’t want to stop. It was almost midnight. Thomas could only think about the bed waiting for him in his room.

He wasn’t even going to take his clothes off. He’d be asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, he was sure of it.

He turned and nodded his head cordially. He’d just gotten to his door so he stood with his hand on the door, indicating he was ready to go in.

The man hurried over to him. “I’m so sorry to stop you this late. I saw what happened at the fair today. I’ve been thinking about changing suppliers this last year and I’d love to talk with you and your pa before you leave. I know you’re leaving pretty early in the morning. Will you allow me a few minutes of your time tomorrow before you go?”

Thomas thought for just a moment. “You’ll need to talk to my pa about that. I’ll tell him and we’ll find you. That okay?”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Thomas.”

“It’s no problem at all.”

As the owner walked quietly away, Thomas turned the knob to his door and went in. It was dark but he had enough visibility to see the desk and chair, the set of dressers, the round rug on the floor and the bed.

The moonlight sent white rays into the room, casting shadows on the walls. A tall tree outside his window looked like it had a hundred limbs, none of which could reach the glass. He didn’t want them tippy-tapping on his window, scaring him in the middle of the night.

He heard murmurs on the other side of his door but he wasn’t interested in what they were saying. As far as he was concerned, once good night was said, that was it.

Thomas went straight to the bed. Turning around, he plopped down and bent to take his boots off. The room was just the right temperature to let him sleep through the night.

Once his boots were off, he laid back on the bed sideways and closed his eyes. The mattress was firm, but not too much. It was comfortable.

He reached over and grabbed one of the pillows at the head of the bed. He shoved it under his head, folding his hands over his stomach, lacing his fingers together.

He lay there for a good five minutes, staring at the back of his closed eyelids, not moving a muscle other than the rise and fall of his chest. He could see his hometown in his mind.

So close and still so far away. It only took an hour and a half to get to Lubbock by buggy or coach. It took an entire day to drive the cattle to their ranch. The pigs always traveled in the wagon. They would fit nicely in the back.

Thinking of home made the image of a young woman swim to the front of his mind’s eye. He’d noticed her a couple months back and had asked around about her. He’d heard she would be at the upcoming dance the hotel was putting on. Would he have the courage to speak to her?

Her name came to him. Sarah. She was friends with Georgia. Georgia was the sister of his good friend and one of his most reliable ranch hands—well, one of Rob’s best ranch hands, Erik.

Georgia was a little closer to his age but there was something about Sarah that he couldn’t put his finger on. She was mysterious. Quiet, but clearly no shrinking violet. She was bold and outspoken.

He’d gone to the schoolhouse with her, though he’d left to help his Pa on the ranch at fifteen. Once he knew how to read and write and do arithmetic.

While they were in school, he hadn’t paid much attention to her. In the last eight years since he’d left school, he’d continued to not pay attention to her—until that one day.

He’d seen her talking with Georgia, laughing so hard she was holding her sides, leaning back so the sun lit up her face and brought out the blonde in her hair. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Since then, she’d wedged herself in his heart, and he was working up the nerve to ask to see her socially.

Just before he drifted off to sleep, Thomas made a vow that he would speak to her the next time he saw her. He wouldn’t leave it just at, “Hello, how are you?”

Sometime later, he was in dreamland with the sweet Sarah, dancing to a soft tune in a dimly lit room where only the two of them existed.