Chapter 12
Even though it was a new day, Ronan couldn’t forget that the townspeople were curious about him.
It was bad. It meant people were going to start looking into who he was and where he came from.
They were going to ask questions, and there was a chance someone was going to ride out to his property and want to meet him.
“That’s the last thing I need,” Ronan muttered to himself, looking out the window over his land.
The sun was shining as Ronan stepped outside after getting dressed for the day. The breeze was warm against his skin, turning his mind to swimming in the river later. It would be a nice break if he had time. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gone swimming.
Ronan made his way down to the barn, checking on the horses. Tobin had already fed them, but there were chicks now clucking away in a little pen who needed their feed.
Stepping back out into the sun, Ronan made his way around to the side of the barn where they had built a new pen for the chicks. It had some dirt, but most of the pen was grass, giving the birds plenty of land to explore.
Ronan went over to the pen and opened the feed storage box beside it, pulling out the bag and tossing some over the edge of the pen and down to the chicks.
They raced to peck at the seeds, fluffy little bodies rushing into each other and bouncing the other way before diving back into the feed again.
“Hungry little things, aren’t you?” he asked, stooping to pet one of the chicks.
There would be plenty of time to handle them later, after they were done eating, and he didn’t want to keep them from their meal.
He smiled and put the food away before leaning against the fence post and looking down at them. The breeze ruffled his hair, warm and scented with flowers.
Ronan glanced toward town, wondering if avoiding them all really was for the best. Perhaps it would be better to go there and get the rumors over with, answer the questions, and be done with it.
But he wasn’t trying to have his past follow him, and if he met more people in town, there would be a time when he slipped up. Someone would make him feel a little too comfortable, and he would speak about the past.
Nobody liked to talk about the things that haunted them, and the things that haunted Ronan were worse than most.
There were going to be people who wanted to get to know him, he knew that. People couldn’t leave well enough alone, and he was living close to town. He also didn’t think it was that wrong to want his privacy, either.
Tobin came up the road with a canvas bag clutched in his hand, the bag bulging with whatever he had gone to town to buy.
“Didn’t expect you back this early,” Ronan said, pushing off the fence and going to meet him halfway between the house and the road.
“Lot going on in town today. Looks like they’re getting ready for a weekend market on Saturday.
Plenty of talk, too.” Tobin held out the bag to him.
“Got some more nails so we can work on building up the barn and some of the fences. Going to take some time to get them in working order, and we may as well start quickly.”
“Well, I want to start with the barn first. It looks like we’re going to have good weather for now, but there’s no telling when a storm is going to come out of nowhere. Once that’s done, I want to focus on building a proper coop before the fence. The chicks will need somewhere safe, too.”
Tobin nodded as they headed down to the barn. “Heard something rather curious while I was in town.”
“I didn’t think you were the kind of man to collect gossip.
” Ronan opened the doors to the barn, the scent of stale air and rotting wood still lingering.
Despite having done some work on the barn already, it still needed dozens of boards replaced, and it looked like the support beams to the hayloft were starting to crumble.
“Never know what kind of information you’re going to collect when you talk to people, and you never know how useful it’s going to be.
” Tobin followed him into the barn, looking up at the hayloft.
“We should start with replacing the beams. Not much point in working on the rest of it if this is going to come down on top of us.”
“What’d you find out?” Ronan rapped his knuckles on the wood, seeing which ones crumbled beneath his touch or sounded hollow, and which ones sounded solid.
“Besides the market? Not a lot, but there are rumors starting to pass about you and what you might be doing here.
People are very curious about the man who now owns this property, and I think a couple of them are debating bringing you a gift basket.
I told them it was unneeded, but very kind, but they insisted, so I would suspect that sooner or later, people are going to find their way out here.
Which means I’m going to have to hide every time someone comes to the door if I don’t want to get stuck in endless conversations.
Ronan sighed and nodded to two of the beams. “These ones are the worst. Would you mind going to the mill this afternoon, once we have everything braced, and getting some beams? We’ll get these measured to see what size we need.”
Tobin looked like he wanted to say more on the matter of people from town, but instead, he nodded.
What Ronan was coming to appreciate about Tobin was that he knew when not to push for more information. There was no doubt in Ronan’s mind that Tobin had questions, but he kept them to himself.
That’s only going to last so long, though, and he’s going to want to know more. He’s not going to want to keep working for me if he doesn’t know whether or not to trust me.
If Tobin found out what Ronan had done, Ronan was sure that Tobin would quit.
And selfishly, Ronan didn’t want Tobin to leave.
They got to work collecting short pieces of wood, creating braces for the beams they’d be replacing. Sweat ran down Ronan’s face as he drove more nails into the brace, pulling on the beam when he was done to make sure it was sturdy.
“This one shouldn’t be moving,” Tobin said, driving the last nail into place. “Not until we get it replaced at least, but it’s a miracle that this entire building hasn’t collapsed yet.”
“I know.” Ronan put the hammer down and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, keeping the sweat from dripping into his eyes. “I’m going to wash some of my clothes while you run to the mill. Anything you need cleaned?”
“No thanks. I’ll take care of it this evening.” Tobin tucked his hands in his pockets, whistling to himself as he left the barn.
Ronan waited for a couple of minutes, just until Tobin was gone from sight, and then he went back to the house, pushing the door open to his room. He had finished stitching the saddlebags back up days ago, but there was the matter of the clothing in the bags.
He took out one of the shirts, running his finger along the seam where he had stitched a gold bracelet inside. Pulling out his knife, he cut out the bracelet and went to put it in his top drawer. It was a dainty bracelet made of tiny gold links.
It had been a gift from his father to his mother a long time ago, and though Ronan didn’t care to relive his old life in the slightest, he couldn’t part with the bracelet.
It was the one thing of his mother’s he had left, and when he was a boy, she had made him promise to give it to the woman he loved.
Though there might never be a woman, he ran his thumb over the bracelet before tucking it away.
Ronan sewed up the sleeve before grabbing his dirty laundry and taking it outside, down to where the river bent into a flowing little eddy in the woods behind his barn, and getting to work with the soap and the washboard.
“There you are!” a deep voice boomed, and a man with dark hair and watery brown eyes rounded the corner of the barn. “I’ve been riding all over your property trying to find you! I was starting to wonder if everyone had been lying about there being a new rancher in town!”
Ronan froze, staring up at the man, wondering who could possibly have the audacity to ride all over another man’s land. “Can I help you?”
Hopefully, I can help him leave.
“Just wanted to say hello. I heard you’ve been here for a couple of days, and I hadn’t been by yet.
Cressida speaks highly of you.” The man hopped down from his horse as if he had been invited to stay, running his hand through his hair and looking around the property.
“It’s going to take a lot of work to fix this place up.
Are you sure that’s something you’re going to want to deal with? ”
“I’ll manage just fine.” Ronan’s arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the man. “Who are you?”
“Forgive me, I must have forgotten my manners.” The man drew closer, holding out a dainty hand with fingers that looked like they were made for playing pianos, not for working the land. “Mayor Conrad Fairmont.”
“And you know Cressida?” Ronan said, his tone a little biting. There was something about this man that rubbed him the wrong way.
“I do.” Conrad puffed out his chest. “We’re rather close.”
Perhaps it was the way the mayor seemed to think it right to explore his land without an invitation.
Maybe it was due to the way the mayor spoke so familiarly of Cressida, as if she had been telling Conrad stories about Ronan—which was unlikely at best, since there was nothing of consequence Cressida knew.
It was far more likely that Conrad was doing what politicians did best, trying to wriggle their way into places they had no business being.
“I thought we might have a word or two so I could welcome you to town,” Conrad said, eyeing the house behind Ronan like he was dying for a chance to get inside and look around.
“I’ve got some work to do,” Ronan said, nodding to the laundry bucket still on the ground, the washboard dripping with suds and water. “Another time.”
It wasn’t a question, and there would be no mistaking it as one.
Conrad pressed his lips together in a thin line, but the look was gone in a flash, an easy smile appearing on his face.
“I don’t think it would take long when you do want to have that conversation.
There are a lot of people in town I could connect you with who would be good to get to know while you’re getting established here, but if you don’t have time today, the offer stands.
Feel free to come and see me in town anytime. ”
“Thank you.” Ronan stared at him, unflinching as the smile wavered just a little before Conrad chuckled and headed for his horse, swinging up into the saddle, though it wasn’t something that looked natural to him.
Does he ride the horse to win support among his people? It looks like he’d rather be riding in a carriage and taken everywhere like a king.
“Have a good day,” Ronan said, forcing a smile so he didn’t seem too disagreeable.
The last thing he needed was to stand out because he wasn’t friendly enough.
But then again, Conrad would form his opinions regardless of his behavior.
It seemed the mayor was prone to doing what he wanted—riding onto another man’s land and taking a look around, included.
Not only that, but he had the gall to try to impose himself on Ronan.
He’s likely just a man with more air in his head than sense.
Ronan had met enough men like Conrad in his time. There was rarely any intent beyond their own ideas of meeting people and pushing half-formed political agendas.
It wasn’t worth losing sleep over.
***
By the time Ronan returned to his room that night, he was exhausted.
His muscles ached, and his head pounded.
His body was begging to go to bed. Though he was no stranger to hard work, restoring the structural integrity of the barn was difficult.
Thankfully, Tobin seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
Ronan stood by his closed door for a moment, listening to the sound of Tobin’s footsteps whispering over the floor, his own bedroom door closing, before Ronan went to the little writing desk in front of the window.
Normally, he wouldn’t part with the watch for anything, but it was impractical to have in his pocket while he was working on the ranch, and he didn’t want to risk losing it. The little drawer was safe enough when he was close, and when he had to leave, he would take it with him.
What would Evander think of me leaving the watch behind?
Unfortunately, Evander didn’t get an opinion anymore, and even if he did, he certainly wasn’t there to voice it.
Though times like these were when Ronan needed to hear Evander’s opinion the most. The man had often been the voice of reason, but the voice of recklessness at times, too.
Ronan’s chest ached, the grief welling inside him once more.
He opened the top drawer and pulled out the pocket watch before lighting the oil lamp on the corner of the desk, illuminating the room.
The face of the watch was broken, and it wasn’t ticking anymore either. He turned the dial on the side as he had done several times in the last couple of weeks, hoping the watch would magically repair itself.
When it didn’t start ticking, he flipped the watch over and reached back into the drawer, pulling out the little tool set. His fingers fumbled as he opened the back of the watch, looking at the gears inside.
There was little he understood about repairing a watch, and he didn’t want to risk breaking it further, so after poking at the gears for a minute or two, he put the back on once more and leaned back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling.
Evander, you better be laughing down at me right now. Somebody should at least be amused at what’s going on in my life.
At the very least, he hoped Evander would be looking down at him and offering him protection from whoever wanted the watch.
It still didn’t make much sense to him. There was little reason for a broken watch to be important. If Evander hadn’t had so many secrets he took to the grave, Ronan wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his own days in hiding.
And if the trouble bled into Cressida’s life, well, Ronan would never forgive himself.