Roz Denny Fox by Precious Gifts Page B

Mojave’s evening care. Rushed he might be, but he never shirked caring for his horse. Besides, Jake had raised Mojave from a colt. The two had bonded as well as man and beast ever could.
    Jake would have liked a shower next. He needed one after a long hot day on the dusty range. Afraid he’d miss Eden if he detoured past his quarters first, Jake marched straight to the kitchen.
    Talk stopped. The three seated at the oak table greeted him with smiles.
    “Well, it’s about time.” Eden got up from her chair and tossed back a fall of wheat-gold hair. “Did you see Dillon? Did you give him my letter and the tomatoes I picked? When’s he coming home?”
    Jake fit two knuckles over her upturned nose and pretended to twist. “Dillon and I met on schedule. He’s coming home Saturday as planned. About that letter, my pocket still smells like roses. Poor Dillon had to air out the pages before he read them or risk an allergic reaction.”
    “It was gardenia, you doofus. Not roses. No wonder you’re still single. A woman likes a man to be able to distinguish between her favorite scent and that of all the other females around.”
    Jake blinked, then buried his nose in her hair and sniffed. “Mint, with a hint of rosemary. Am I right?”
    His sister-in-law batted his nose away. “Guess there’s hope for you yet.”
    Nell pulled a pot of stew off the back of the stove and ladled a generous portion into a bowl. Taking a pan of biscuits from the oven, she motioned her younger son into a chair, which he declined for the moment.
    Wade tilted his own chair back and tucked his thumbs under his belt. “How’s the beef count coming, son? Do the numbers tally?”
    After washing and drying his hands, Jake slid in next to his dad. “We came up about five hundred short. Reason I’m late is that I rode over to the J & B to ask John to be on the lookout for strays. I’ve still got some territory to cover tomorrow, but not enough to make up for such a large discrepancy.”
    Eden jammed an elbow in Jake’s ribs and rolled her eyes. “It makes a good excuse to visit little Miss Bright Eyes, doesn’t it.”
    Jake scowled. “Lay off, Eden. Dillon gave me the same song and dance. I’m not interested in Ginalyn Westin, all right?”
    His denial sounded so ferocious Eden reared back.
    “Sorry for snapping,” he muttered. “Dillon got in his licks, too. It didn’t set well. You’ll probably hear in town how rude I was to Ginalyn.”
    “Rude? Jacob Cooper? The rangeland Romeo who makes every unattached woman’s heart go pitty-pat, pitty-pat with his special line of schmaltz?”
    “Come on, Eden. It’s been a long day.”
    She grinned devilishly, but did drop the teasing.
    Jake tasted the stew, then broke and buttered a biscuit before he asked his father casually, “What did you and Mom find out about Ben O’Dell in Tombstone?”
    “’Bout what we expected. He was a private old duffer. Died unexpectedly. The Ryan woman is his granddaughter.”
    “So why do you suppose he never mentioned her?” Jake stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth.
    “Could be because there was bad blood between Ben and the girl’s husband,” Wade said. “At least that would explain why he didn’t say anything in the last year or two.”
    Nell poured coffee all around. “The town was full of her story.”
    “What is her story?” Jake tried to act nonchalant, but tension showed in the grip he maintained on his spoon.
    Nell’s gaze traveled the table before settling on her son. “Now, Jake, your father and I don’t know how much is truth and how much was embellished for our benefit.”
    “Give it to me straight.”
    “Mrs. Ryan’s husband sold Ben’s silver mine and left town with another woman. That much folks agreed on. Whether or not Mrs. Ryan signed papers giving him the Silver Cloud mine was subject to conjecture. It was obvious she didn’t tell anyone in Tombstone where she was going or what she planned to do when she left.