Married To Claim The Rancher's Heir. Lauri Robinson

forward to help her as she started to climb into the wagon.

      As he took her hand, second thoughts hit him. “You can take a moment to say goodbye,” he said. “We aren’t in a hurry.”

      She climbed up and let go of his hand. “I’ve already said goodbye,” she said, twisting her skirt about as she sat down on the seat. “Dragging it out will only make it harder on Ruby.”

      “For once we agree on something.” He walked around the wagon and grabbed the brake block from behind the front wheel before climbing onto the seat. The kitten escaped Ruby’s hold, and as all three girls squealed and started chasing it along the porch, he flayed the reins over the horses.

      He steered the horses through the ranch yard and then onto the road that would soon turn north and take them to the train stop. “Ruby will be fine,” he said when the silence made his spine tingle.

      “Do you always find someone to do your dirty work?”

      He glanced her way, expecting a glare. Instead all he saw was her profile as she stared straight ahead. She was wearing the same dress as yesterday, the one with lace all around her neck, but she’d wrapped a scarf around her neck, to prevent further irritation no doubt. The bottom edge of her face was still covered in a red rash.

      Knowing full well she was referring to Marietta convincing her to let Ruby stay behind, he answered honestly. “No, I usually do whatever needs doing myself, but this time I figured you’d argue and we might miss the train.”

      She pinched her lips together and closed her eyes.

      “Figured right, didn’t I?”

      Her sideways glance was cute enough, saucy enough to make him laugh. Not chuckle, but laugh like he hadn’t in some time.

      She huffed out a breath. “I do not find the situation funny, Mr. Callaway.”

      “Neither do I, Miss Parker. I’m just happy I won.”

      “You may have won this battle, Mr. Callaway, but the war isn’t over.”

      He laughed again. “You say that like a true solider, Miss Parker.”

      “My father served in the Plains Calvary,” she said, sitting up a bit straighter. “He was a captain and in charge of a regiment of troops across the western part of Kansas.”

      The name that immediately appeared in his mind had him asking, “Captain Jonathan Parker?”

      “Yes, Captain Jonathan Parker was my father. As I’m sure Anna told you.”

      “No, she didn’t,” he said.

      She eyed him critically. “She didn’t?”

      “No, but I knew your father. Met him on more than one occasion when I was young. He made the first deal for Triple C beef cattle to be delivered to Fort Wallace with my father. I continued to sell cattle to the fort until it was decommissioned last year.”

      She was looking at him oddly, as if she didn’t believe what he was saying.

      He had no reason to lie but did give a quick nod. “We were all saddened by the news of his death, especially my father. They’d been good friends.”

      With a shake of her head, she asked, “Anna never mentioned him to you?”

      “Not that I recall.”

      “Then what did you two talk about?”

      He shrugged, not really able to recall that either. “A blizzard hit shortly after Anna arrived at the ranch. I was busy making sure our losses were minimal to do much talking.”

      “What losses?”

      That winter, that blizzard had changed many things. Not only in his life. Ranchers and settlers all around them were devastated. Max’s deserting him during that time had left a burning pile of anger in his stomach, and it flared again. It wasn’t as hot or raw, but it appeared, and made him draw a breath to combat it. “Cattle. Most of our cattle were on open range for the winter, and when the snow finally stopped falling, it was up to our bellies. The men’s and the cattle’s. The wind blew drifts taller than the buildings. We had a he—a heck of a time just getting from the barns to the house, let alone getting hay out to the pastures.”

      “What did you do?”

      “We shoveled,” he answered. “Shoveled and shoveled. But we still lost a lot of beef.” Carcasses had littered the ground, and in many ways, he was still recouping from that blizzard. That winter. Max’s desertion. Some of the other ranchers who had been in the area hadn’t been as lucky as he. They’d lost everything, called it quits and moved on. Without even bothering to clean up the mess left behind.

      The hand she’d pressed to her chest made her appear genuinely concerned. “Do you get a lot of snow here in the winter?”

      “Normally, no. I’d never seen anything like it and hope to never see it again. We grow more hay now and other crops for winter feed and have fenced in the winter grazing pastures so the cattle aren’t so widespread.” Recalling all that had happened, he added, “It wasn’t just the snow, it was cold. Way below freezing. Cattle froze to death right where they stood. It wasn’t just here either. That blizzard swept from Canada to Texas.”

      “My heavens. I don’t recall hearing about a blizzard like that.”

      “It didn’t reach that far east. Didn’t hit Kansas City. I suspect it would have been reported in the newspapers, but maybe not.” Nodding in the direction ahead of them, where the windmill that filled the water tower for trains was becoming visible, he said, “The train froze to the track.”