Mom's The Word. Roz Denny Fox

Mom's The Word - Roz Denny Fox


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from the Triple C ranch. I admit this spring is on Bureau of Land Management property, but it’s got water crucial to our cattle. In fact, there are some ten ranchers in the area who need that water. July to October our range land is almost dry. The vaqueros we hire to help with roundup start that pump over there at intervals to feed water through the ditches. Well, it’s not really a pump, but a set of four flow valves that work off the water pressure when someone turns the wheels and opens the valves.” He pointed.

      “I don’t think so, Mr. Cooper.” She crossed her arms. “I’ve recorded a legal claim to prospect here. My claim starts at that pile of rocks—at the sign declaring it the Blue Cameo Mine. This plot of ground is mine from now until next July.”

      “Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

      “Hayley. Hayley Ryan. Feel free to check with the county recorder and the state BLM office. You’ll find my paperwork in order and my fees paid.”

      Jake bent at the waist and scooped up his hat from where it had fallen. He jammed it on his head and then grimaced because it scraped the bloody reminder of his encounter with this woman. “I hate to burst your bubble, Hayley Ryan. You’re claim-jumping. A man by the name of Ben O’Dell filed on this site—and the Triple C has an agreement with Ben. He promised to notify us when he’s finished prospecting, and we’re going to the recording office with him when he releases the mineral rights. Then we’ll buy this twenty acres, plus the hundred that adjoins it.”

      “Did my grandfath…uh…Ben…did he put that in writing?”

      Jake removed his hat again and slapped it against his thigh. “I shot the breeze with Ben a lot. We swapped stories and drank coffee or an occasional beer. I suppose you could call what we had a gentlemen’s agreement. Are you and he related? He never mentioned having a family.”

      “Everyone has a family. Ben passed on recently. That nullifies his claim. If you two had an agreement, he didn’t tell anyone. My claim is good, Mr. Cooper.”

      Jake’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Well, I hope you’ll pardon me if I ride into Tombstone to see if you’re telling the truth.”

      “Be my guest.” Hayley waved him off. “Don’t let me keep you. It’s been a long day. I’d like to eat my evening meal in peace, if you don’t mind, Mr. Cooper.”

      “It’s Jake, or Jacob, please.”

      “Jacob, then,” she said sweetly, extending a hand. “And, if you don’t mind, I’ll take my shotgun before you go.”

      Jake let his disgruntled gaze circle the isolated campsite before he silently handed back her gun. “Ben never said what he was digging for. It must be something valuable for a pretty lady like you to bury herself in such a desolate place. Are you aware of how far it is to the nearest ranch house?”

      When she said nothing, only clamped her pointed little jaw tighter, Jake went ahead and filled her in before he swung into the saddle. “Your closest neighbor would be the Triple C. Eight miles from here as the crow flies. Closer to twelve if you follow the trail. Our ranch sits practically on the Mexican border.”

      Again Hayley said nothing. She simply cocked her head.

      “Dang! It goes against my grain to leave a lady alone among coyotes and wolves. To say nothing of any two-legged varmints who drift past here, or any illegals jumping the border. Say the word and I’ll help you hitch up that trailer so you can park closer to civilization.”

      “I just unhitched, Mr. Cooper, er, Jake.” Hayley enunciated clearly, as if to a child.

      “I’m offering you the Triple C’s hospitality, woman.”

      “My name is Hayley,” she said pointedly as he’d done with his earlier. “Nice try, but nothing you say is going to frighten me off my claim. You may as well give up. If you have eight miles to travel before sitting down to supper, hadn’t you better take off?” Hayley delivered the advice through a dazzling smile.

      Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. Stubborn didn’t begin to describe Hayley Ryan. He could just imagine what his dad and his brother, Dillon, who lived with his wife in a separate house on Triple C land, were going to say when he delivered the news about this squatter. He’d catch hell from his mom and his sister-in-law, Eden, too, for leaving a defenseless woman to fend for herself. Jake was torn between going home to impart the news or sticking close to look after the damn little fool.

      A sharp pain sliced through his skull. He changed his mind about calling the woman defenseless. She was one tough cookie.

      Touching two fingers curtly to the brim of his hat, he wheeled Mojave and rode off the way he’d come. If she didn’t run out of lead for that scattergun, she ought to be safe enough by herself—for one night.

      CHAPTER TWO

      WADE COOPER met his son in the barn where Jake had stopped to rub down and feed Mojave. A Border collie Jake had raised from a pup yapped excitedly.

      “Sit, Charcoal,” ordered Wade, a lean handsome man in his midsixties. Without being asked, he pitched in to help Jake take care of his horse. “Expected you back by suppertime. Why don’t you let me finish here? Go wash up. Your mother saved you a plate in the oven. You know Nell won’t admit to worrying, but she still frets and peeks down the road when she thinks I’m not looking.”

      “Yeah, well, I’d have been here sooner, but I ran into a snag.” Jake removed his Stetson and gingerly touched his swollen temple. It still hurt like hell.

      “Literally a snag?” Wade stepped closer and frowned at the blood matted in his son’s close-cropped sideburns.

      “In more ways than one, I’m afraid.” Jake left nothing out as he replayed his encounter with Hayley Ryan at Ben O’Dell’s claim.

      “Well, hell!” Wade exclaimed. His chin sagged to his chest by the time Jake finished his story. “I feel bad about Ben. Would’ve attended his funeral if I’d known about it. Your brother subscribes to all those damned papers—Tombstone, Nogales, Tubac. Wonder how he missed O’Dell’s obituary?”

      “You’ll have to ask him. Perhaps Eden lined the bird cage with it.” Jake grinned. His brother was sappy in love with his wife. He’d do anything for her. But Dillon really had a hard time liking Eden’s beloved parrot. Coronado talked a blue streak to everyone who walked into the couple’s house—but reserved special treatment for Dillon, screeching at him and biting him every chance he got.

      “Quit needling Dillon over that bird. Tell me more about the Ryan woman.”

      Jake scowled. “What’s to tell? She’s no bigger than a flea. One of our stiff Baja winds will blow her and that tomfool toy trailer of hers right off the map.”

      “That’s not what I meant. Ben led me to believe he’d kept this claim a secret.”

      “Hayley Ryan alleges she’s Ben’s granddaughter. But he never mentioned any kin to me. I wonder if she’s trying to pull a fast one. She told me Ben never said a word about our water deal. And asked me if I had something in writing. I thought I’d drive to Tombstone tomorrow and snoop a little.”

      “Let Mom and me go,” Wade said. “We’ll drive on to Tucson. Nell’s been badgering me to go before roundup starts. She heard about a new pottery-supply store.”

      “Fine by me. I’d just as soon not drive the pickup over that graveled track between here and Arivaca.” Jake hunkered down to pat Charcoal, then let the dog lick his face.

      “Probably wouldn’t hurt if you were to ride back out and check on the woman tomorrow. Someone should warn her about the rattlers nesting back in those rocks. Ben tangled with a couple of big ones.”

      “It’s a waste of breath trying to scare her off. I brought up wolves, coyotes and mentioned illegals coming through. Didn’t faze her.”

      “Hmm.


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