In a Cowboy's Arms. Rebecca Winters
for his sister, but so far that interest hadn’t been reciprocated. Ben needed to meet someone else. “You were going to tell me something?”
“Avery sent me to find you. I guess your phone’s turned off.”
“The battery needs recharging. What’s up?”
“She wanted you to know Daniel Corkin died at White Lodge Hospital early this morning of acute liver failure.”
What?
Jarod staggered in place.
Sadie’s monster father had really given up the ghost?
“The Hensons were with him. They got word to Liz and she phoned Avery.”
The news he hadn’t expected to come for another decade or more sent a great rushing wind through his ears, carrying painful whispers from the past that he’d tried to block out all these years. They came at him from every direction, dredging up bittersweet memories so clear they could have happened yesterday.
But Jarod managed to control his emotions in front of Ben. “Appreciate you telling me.” After a pause he said, “If Avery can’t tend to the calf, I’ll call Liz. You go on. I’ll follow on my horse Blackberry.”
Ben nodded and took off.
Long after the truck disappeared, Jarod stood in the pasture to gentle the calf’s mother, adrenaline gushing through his veins. Sadie would show up long enough to bury her father. Then what?
He threw his head back, taking in the cotton-ball clouds drifting across an early May sky. With Sadie’s mother buried in California, it no doubt meant the end of Farfields. Sadie hadn’t stepped on Montana soil in eight years. The note he’d received in the hospital after his truck accident when she’d left the ranch had been simple enough.
Jarod,
You begged me to consider carefully the decision to marry you. I have thought about it and realize it just won’t work. I’m going to live with my mother in California, but I want you to know I’ll always treasure our time together.
Sadie.
For eight years Jarod had done his damnedest to avoid any news of her and for the most part had succeeded. Until now...
By the time he rode into the barn, twilight was turning into night. He levered himself off Blackberry and led him into the stall.
“You’re kind of late, aren’t you?”
Jarod couldn’t remember when there wasn’t a baiting tone in Ned’s voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the youngest of his four cousins walking toward him. Ned’s three siblings were good friends with Jarod.
He scrutinized Ned, who was a year younger than him. Even that slight age difference upset Ned, but the rancor he felt for Jarod ran much deeper for other reasons. They were both Bannocks and lived in separate houses on the Hitting Rocks Ranch, but the fact that Jarod’s mother had been a full Crow Indian was an embarrassment to the bigoted Ned. He liked to pretend Jarod wasn’t part of the Bannock family and took great pleasure in treating him like a second-class citizen.
Ned was also still single and had always had a thing for Sadie Corkin, feelings that were never reciprocated. “It took me longer than usual to check out the new calves. How about you? Were you able to get the old bale truck fixed today or do we need to buy a new one?”
“If it comes to that, I’ll talk it over with my dad.”
Grant Bannock, Jarod’s uncle, was a good man. But he had his hands full with Ned, who’d been spoiled most of his life and did his share of drinking. Jarod often had to keep a close eye on him to make certain he got his chores done. Not even Tyson Bannock, Ned’s grandfather and Ralph’s brother, could control him at times.
Ned had always dreamed of marrying Sadie Corkin and one day being in charge of both ranches. But that dream was in no one’s interest but his own. Ralph Bannock, Jarod’s grandfather, was the head of the ranch and his closeness to Jarod was like pouring salt on Ned’s open wound.
Jarod patted the horse’s rump before turning to his cousin. “Was there something else you wanted?”
Ned had looped his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and stared at Jarod, who at six foot three topped him by two inches. Jarod saw a wild glitter in those hazel eyes that felt like hatred, confirming his suspicions that this encounter had to do with the news Ben had brought him earlier. Now that Sadie would be coming back for the burial, Ned wanted Jarod out of the picture.
“I thought you should know old man Corkin kicked the bucket early this morning.”
Jarod didn’t bother telling his cousin he was way ahead of him.
“If I were you,” Ned warned, “I wouldn’t get any ideas about showing my face at the funeral since he hated your guts.” Jarod noted the heightened venom in his voice.
There’d been a lot of hate inside Daniel that had nothing to do with Jarod. In that regard Sadie’s father and Ned had a lot in common, but no good would come of pointing that out to his cousin.
Jarod’s uncle Charlo would describe Ned as an “empty war bonnet.” The thought brought a faint smile to his lips. “Thanks for the advice.”
Ned smirked. “No problem. Because of you there’s been enough tension between the Corkins and the Bannocks. Or maybe you’re itching to start another War of the Roses and manipulate your grandfather into buying Farfields for you. To my recollection that battle lasted a hundred years.”
“I believe that was the Hundred Years War.” Ned’s ridiculous plan to acquire Sadie and the Corkin ranch in the hope oil could be found there was pitiable. “The War of the Roses lasted thirty years and the Scots only triumphed for ten of them. If my grandmother were still alive, we could check the facts with her.”
Addie Bannock loved her history, and Jarod loved hearing what she could tell him about that part of his ancestry.
Even in the semidarkness of the barn, he detected a ruddy color creeping into Ned’s cheeks. For once his cousin didn’t seem to have a rebuttal.
“Do you know what’s important, Ned? Daniel’s death puts an end to any talk of war between the two families, for which we can all be grateful. I have a feeling this news will bring new life to both our grandfathers. Those two brothers are sick to death of it. Frankly, so am I. Good night.”
As he walked out of the barn, Ned’s last salvo caught up to him.
“If you think this is over, then you’re as loco as Charlo.” It sounded like a threat.
Jarod kept walking. Daniel Corkin’s death had shaken everyone, including his troubled cousin Ned.
Chapter Two
“...And so into Your hands, O merciful God, we commend Your servant Daniel Burns Corkin. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech You, a sheep of Your own fold, a lamb of Your own flock, a sinner of Your own redeeming. Receive Daniel into the arms of Your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of those who have gone before. Amen.”
After the collective “amens,” Minister Lyman looked at Sadie before eying the assembled crowd. She hadn’t noticed the people who’d attended. In fact, she hadn’t talked to anyone yet.
“While they finish the work here, Daniel’s daughter, Sadie Corkin, and the Hensons, who’ve worked for Daniel all these years and are like a second family to Sadie, invite all of you back to the ranch house for refreshments.”
The house, with the extraordinary backdrop of the Pryor Mountains, was only a two-minute walk from the family plot with its smattering of pine trees. Sadie had already ordered a headstone, but it wouldn’t be ready for a few weeks.
She felt an arm slip around her shoulders. “Let me take Ryan for you so you can have some time alone.”