by India Heath
Floresville, South Texas, 1888.
Cash Alexander tethered his horse on the coral fence and walked up to the Rosetta Ranch house with quiet, self-assured ease. A giant of a man at 6ft 4, his stealthy approach belied his muscled bulk. Dark wavy hair was brushed back under his Stetson and intelligent grey eyes narrowed as he heard angry words carried on the warm Texas breeze.
"Pack up your stuff, Rowdy - and get off my ranch. You're fired."
"You can't fire me, little gal. Your daddy hired me over ten years ago. I put blood, sweat and tears into this place and you ain't kicking me out just because you're too prickly to enjoy a real man's touch."
Cash watched in fascination as the petite blonde girl on the porch squared her shoulders and stood up to the tall angry cowboy in front of her without an ounce of hesitation.
"Daddy isn't here any more," she snapped, and for just a second there was sadness in her azure glare. "The Rosetta belongs to me now and nothing and no one is gonna stop me running it my way. Not Cavan Macall and certainly not you, Rowdy Briggs. And I choose not to have you pawing me like a piece of meat any time you see fit. I want you off my property now!"
Rowdy, a tall lean cowboy with scruffy brown hair and stained teeth, spat onto the wooden floor in defiance. "You need a foreman around this place," he sneered. "You need me. You think any of the hands will seriously listen to your orders? They'll laugh at you, that's what they'll do. Without me, this place will fall down around your ears in no time." He leaned down over the little blonde and leered. "In six months time the Macall's will be taking over this land and your daddy will turn in his grave."
The small girl lifted her chin in mutinous outrage. "My daddy would rather see me homeless than mauled by thieving scum like you. You think I don't know you skim off the ranch profits whenever you take cattle to market?"
Rowdy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You accusing me of stealing, bitch?" He took a small threatening step nearer.
"You may have pulled the wool over Daddy's eyes but you don't fool me. You're a cheatin' bastard, Rowdy and I want you gone before sunset or I'll shoot you."
Rowdy made a low guttural growl and raised his arm ready to slap her.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Cash advised in a low steel drawl. "Not if you want to leave here with all your teeth."
Two pairs of eyes spun round to stare at Cash. Rowdy sized up his new opponent and slowly dropped his arm. Cash walked up the porch steps and gave a brief nod of approval. "Wise move there, Mister. Now I suggest you do what the little lady says and clear out."
"Who the hell are you to be giving me orders?" Rowdy spat.
Cash ignored the scruffy cowboy and looked directly at the blonde. "Name's Cash Alexander. Word in town is that you're looking for a new foreman?"
Prairie Hart wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or angry about the giant of a man who now stood dominating her porch with arrogant ease. He was huge. Muscled biceps strained beneath the blue cotton of his shirt as he folded his arms and leaned casually against the wooden rail. "I have references, ma'am and years of experience on ranches just like this one." He shot Rowdy a contemptuous glare. "And I'm honest."
Prairie shook her head in confusion. "I haven't advertised for a new foreman."
Cash shrugged. "It's a small town, honey. The cowhands go drinking in the saloon and the beer loosens their tongue. Word is that you need someone around this place that you can trust." Cash offered her a wide smile that made Prairie catch her breath. "And I'm your man."
Rowdy made a scoffing sound and spat again. "Well you got it wrong, Mister. You ain't needed here."
"Yes he is." Prairie shocked herself by making the snap decision. She didn't know Cash Alexander from Adam but right now anyone was better than Rowdy Briggs and his lecherous ways. "The job's yours, Cash." She gave Rowdy a dismissive wave. "And your first duty is to throw this piece of trash off my ranch."
Cash nodded. "My pleasure, ma'am."
Prairie marched into the house, shutting Rowdy out of her mind. She had no doubt Cash Alexander was more than capable of getting rid of the thieving thug who had taken advantage of her father's trust over the years. And if Cash couldn't deal with Rowdy, then maybe he wasn't the man she needed after all.
Inside the house, the air was a little cooler and Prairie wandered into the kitchen, finally allowing her shoulders to droop a little. It hadn't been an easy year. Her father's death four months ago had almost been a blessed release, after a torturous illness that seemed to attack his lung's and deprive him of the ability to breathe easily. The town doctor had visited regularly but despite various tonics, her father had deteriorated beneath her very eyes. She had sat by his bedside night after night, wishing she could somehow pump precious air into his weakening body. The sound of his laboured gasps still filled her nightmares.
Then on top of her father's illness was the constant pressure from Cavan Macall to take over the running of the Rosetta ranch. Hatred swelled up with in Prairie like a wave and she kicked the table leg in frustrated fury. How dare that man take advantage of her daddy when he was dying? How dare he insinuate that she was incapable of running the spread just because she was female? Not content with being one of the biggest land owners in Texas already, Cavan Macall was intent on buying up every small plot of land or struggling ranch, to compound his growing empire.
Prairie kicked the table leg again. "Well you're not getting this ranch," she muttered to herself. "The Rosetta is mine."
"Now what has that poor table done to you?" Sophia chided gently as she bustled into the kitchen, carrying a pile of laundry.
Prairie's scowl changed to a smile for the plump housekeeper who had been her only mother figure. "Nothing Sophia. I've just had a run in with Rowdy, that's all. I fired him."
Sophia looked momentarily surprised before it turned to concern. "Was that wise?" she asked, her soft Spanish accent lilting and comforting at the same time. "I'm not sure how you will manage without him. The cowpunchers are a rough bunch."
Prairie's full lower lip set stubbornly. "I can handle any man, Sophia." Then she shrugged. "But as it happens you needn't worry, I have already hired a new foreman."
Now Sophia looked shocked. "Goodness, honey, you don't let the grass grow under your feet. How did you find a new foreman so quickly?"
Prairie pouted. "Actually I'm not sure. He sorta found me."
Sophia began to scrub bed sheets against a wooden washboard, rubbing a bar of lye soap against the cotton to create lather. "Perhaps the good Lord has decided to smile down on you, child. This man maybe your saviour."
Prairie wrinkled her nose. "Nah, he's just a drifter. If he causes me any grief I'll fire his ass the same as I did Rowdy's."
Sophia sighed a little sadly. It wasn't right that Prairie had to be so tough all the time. She needed a man in her life to take care of her. Sophia decided she would pray for one to come along tonight. The Lord would surely listen.
Cash found Prairie Hart in the barn two hours later, after he'd personally escorted Rowdy Briggs off the ranch. The man had done a lot of verbal cussing and even spat one or two threats of revenge, but Cash had remained lethally calm. He had dealt with worse thugs than Briggs before. The knack was to remain cool and in control. Briggs got off on abusing dying men and young women. Cash doubted he had the guts to take on a man who was more than able to fight back.
Prairie was busy loading reels of barbed wire onto the back of a wagon, a look of determination in her deep blue eyes. Cash looked at her, a frown of censure marring his brow. What on earth was the little girl playing at now? At barely five foot tall, she was tiny but curved in all the right places. Cash knew this because instead of wearing a dress like every decent young lady should, she was dressed in pants that hugged her hips and clung to the curves of her delightful rear every time she bent over. Her waist-length blonde hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail but there was no disguising the beauty of her features. Cat like azure eyes sat above a small pert nose, splattered with freckles. Her mouth was full and very kissable, Cash decided. Even now, when it was pursed into a stubborn line. A soft groan escaped them as she heaved another reel of wire up onto the wagon.
"What are you doing?" Cash challenged.
Prairie put her hands on her hips, clearly irritated at being questioned. "Did you get rid of Rowdy?"
"He's gone," Cash stated quietly. "Now answer my question."
Prairie stamped her foot. "Last time I checked, Mr Alexander, I was the boss and you worked for me. That means you don't get to demand answers, just follow orders."
Cash resisted the urge to turn her over his knee and give her a lesson in the basic laws of nature. If the sassy little hellion thought that owning a piece of land allowed her to stamp and mouth off at him then she was in for a rude awakening. But he figured baring her bottom on day one wasn't going the right way about forging a good working relationship. So he clenched his fists and let the flippant remark slide.
"If you want me to be your foreman then you have to trust me," he reasoned calmly. "That means filling me in on what plans you have for the Rosetta."
Prairie considered this for a moment then nodded. "We can meet up tonight after supper. I have an office in the house. Come and see me once you're settled in Rowdy's old quarters. We can go over your duties and wages too."
"I'd still like to know what you're planning on doing with all that barbed wire."
She shrugged. "Me and a few of the hands are gonna fence off the watering hole in the north field."
Cash's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You can't do that."
Prairie raised her chin defiantly. "Yes I can. It's on my land. I can do whatever I like."
"No you damn well can't. This is open range. It's not just the Rosetta cattle that depend on that water and you know it." His steel gaze bit into her. "You start fencing off your land and eventually the whole community will suffer."
"Go tell that to Cavan Macall," Prairie tossed bitterly. "I hear he's put up boundaries around all his land."
"Cavan Macall owns a hell of a lot more land than you do," Cash threw back. "Even with fencing, his herd have thousands of acres to graze on and numerous water sources. The smallholdings round here mean you gotta work with your neighbours to keep the cattle healthy. It just takes one harsh winter or dry summer and your steer will need to travel to find fresh grass." He took hold of one reel of barbed wire in the wagon and tossed it back into the corner. "You fence off your waterhole and then the next rancher fences off his pasture. It's a slippery slope and there ain't no winners, honey."
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