Something Borrowed

Chapter 36

Brent

"We've hired on twenty extra hands for the roundup this year. Most are out on the range right now, and most of them are seasonal hires, but we're building a new bunkhouse down the way. We plan to keep a handful of 'em on through next spring, depending on how they fare. We've been expanding and we need a few more men year round. Calving season went real well the last few years and we're doing well at the market. The old man bought up Jameson's land last summer and we had a hell of a time posting all the new fencing. But... are you listening to this or should I just leave you to your dreaming? I got real work to do, you know. You're the one who asked for this damn tour."

Brent startled. He had been listening. Sort of. He'd just mostly been thinking. He glanced at his brother and thought of the last time they'd spoken before he'd left town. The bastard had broken his nose! And then, what? Gone home and married his woman? Stolen his life out from under him? Sequestered poor, lovely, adventuresome Amelia off in some hovel on this godforsaken ranch?

"Why wouldn't Amelia see me?" he asked, by way of answer. Josh sighed, hanging his head for a moment before tugging his hat off, dropping it over the saddle horn, and fixing his brother with one of those looks he'd started giving so, so long ago. Those disappointed elder looks.

"I told you," he said. "She's busy at the house, and she's not in a rush to see you after what you did to her. She said she'll talk to you on Sunday."

That was utter hogwash if Brent had ever heard it. Amelia was crazy about him! What lies was Josh feeding her? Did she even know he was home?

Did she?

A plan sprang to life in his head and he jerked his chin toward a distant herd of cattle, driven along by three men on horseback. "So you were talking about the new ranch hands?"

Josh gave him a suspicious look but prattled on. Nonsense about wells and fence-cutters and his worries about a drought. Brent asked just enough questions to convince his brother he was listening, but in his mind he was plotting. When a young man came flying across the hill on horseback, looking harried, Brent had his out.

"Boss, we got a problem," the newcomer said, bringing his horse to a halt. "One of the guys from the north pasture came runnin' back. Said they got a stampede going."

"North pasture is miles from here," Josh said with a frown, picking up his hat and dropping it back on his head. "You're telling me they can't head 'em into a mill before they do any harm?"

"It's too late for that, boss," the young man said, wringing the reins in his hands. "They got headed toward the fence and one of the new fellas' horse spooked and he went down. His partner stopped to help him and they couldn't get 'em turned in time and next thing you know they tore down the fence and half the heard is scattered across Robinson's south acres."

"Who fell? He okay?"

"Finnie, sir. He's alright, I s'pose. Mattheson, that's who rode back, he said nobody was hurt. They just lost the steers is all."

Josh sighed and turned to Brent. "Don't suppose you want to help me deal with this, do you?"

"Nah, I'm a little saddle sore," Brent lied, nodding toward the house. "Think I'll go sit with Pa for a bit. Go over the books and whatnot."

Josh was riding away before the words were fully out his mouth, galloping alongside the man who'd come to fetch him. Brent didn't envy his brother this life. He'd never intended to run the ranch, but he damn sure wanted his inheritance. He was building the house in town and he and Amelia and Rebecca-- God Almighty, he needed to meet Rebecca-- could live there. Once the old man died he could run the ranch from afar as his father had. He'd come to accept that he was needed for the bookkeeping. Josh didn't have the mind for it, so Brent could let him live in the house and run the day-to-day while he managed the finances from town. Between the ranch and his own business he would be a titan, like Vanderbilt or Astor.