Chapter Two
“Can I help you, folks?” Garrett asked, approaching the two men as they dismounted from their horses.
From the looks of them, they didn’t seem too dangerous.
Both men were tall and lithe, dressed in black suits, high-collared white shirts, and bowler hats instead of the well-worn cowboy style most men in Twin Rivers wore.
Garrett silently thought the fine clothes were a poor choice as he looked the two men up and down and found them covered in dust.
“We sure hope so,” the man on the left said, his grin wide and friendly as he removed his hat in courtesy.
His blonde hair was slicked with pomade, and by the way his mustache sat unmoving as he spoke, Garrett wagered he’d used expensive wax to keep it in such tight form. His blue eyes weren’t nearly as bright as Dean’s, but there was some warmth in them; an earnestness almost.
“I’m Mr. Clipper and this is my companion, Mr. Shear,” the blonde man said politely, waving to the dark-haired gentleman by his side.
At Garrett’s side, Dean chortled.
“Clipper and Shear? You serious?” Dean asked, looking the two up and down with an amused grin.
“Comical, I know,” Mr. Clipper replied with a charming grin, “But I assure you we are serious gentlemen who have come to have a serious conversation.”
Unlike his friendlier counterpart, Mr. Shear did not remove his hat or speak.
Instead his amber eyes remained steadfast on Garrett’s face with an intense expression on his face.
He too wore a mustache in similar fashion, but in addition to that, also had a goatee.
His hands were out to his sides, black-gloved fingers splayed and still.
It was all Garrett needed to see to know that beneath the hem of his jacket were two holsters where no doubt a pistol on each hip rested.
A pose like that spoke volumes to Garrett, and he knew then, no matter how friendly Mr. Clipper was acting, neither man was opposed to violence.
“We are looking for Mr. Garrett Mercer,” Mr. Clipper went on in his friendly tone. “Might that be you?”
“It is,” Garrett answered with a nod. “What can I do for you, Mr. Clipper and Mr. Shear?”
Mr. Clipper reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a tri-folded piece of paper as his polite smile shifted into a remorseful one.
“I am afraid we are here to deliver some unfortunate news, Mr. Mercer,” Mr. Clipper replied, extending the paper to Garrett.
“Officially speaking, Mr. Shear and myself are surveyors for the Southern Pacific Railroad Company. We are not usually the bearers of bad news, but as we went to the local courthouse to acquire the details of this property, we were made aware of an unfortunate mix-up.”
“Mix-up?” Garrett said, taking the paper and unfolding it with haste. His eyes scanned through the words, then his gaze shot back up to the two intruders as his heart began to pound.
“This has to be false!” He exclaimed, “Mr. Dawson left this land to me right and proper. I’ve got the deed to prove it. There’s no way he would have sold it to the railroad without telling me.”
“Not sold. Forfeited,” Mr. Clipper corrected, giving him a pitying look. “Back taxes, you see. Pesky, horrible things in my opinion, and sadly the reason so many hardworking ranchers lose their property.”
“Horse spit,” Dean all but snarled by Garrett’s side as he snatched the letter from him, “My father and I have known Mr. Dawson our entire lives. This place might have struggled these last few years but he always paid his due.”
“Oh, but I’m afraid he did not,” Mr. Clipper replied calmly, then tsked his tongue. “And I’m not surprised he didn’t speak of it to anyone. A cowboy’s pride is stronger than most, I’ve learned. Even if it is unwarranted.”
Garrett’s lips drew back in a sneer; understanding now that Mr. Clipper’s polite persona was more fraudulent than the claim he was trying to peddle.
“We will take the deed now,” Mr. Shear said, speaking for the first time, “After all, it is rightfully ours.”
“You won’t be taking anything but the road out of here, son,” Garrett retorted, taking a step toward Mr. Shear. “You want to fool me, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that.”
Mr. Shear stepped up to him, amber eyes meeting Garrett’s dark brown ones in a silent standoff.
“You sure you want to talk to me that way without a smoke on your skin?” Mr. Shear asked, raising a challenging brow.
“He might not have one, but I do,” Dean spoke up, and the telltale sound of a hammer being pulled filled the tension-filled air. “Best back up, mister. We don’t take threats lyin’ down around here.”
When Mr. Shear didn’t stand down, Mr. Clipper stepped in between the three of them, his hands out.
“Now, now,” Mr. Clipper said hastily, “No need for all of this hostility! If you need more proof, we can simply come back with the Sheriff. Surely, he would sort this all out for us.”
Garrett’s lips suddenly split into a wide grin, knowing for a fact that Logan would help him defend the rights to his ranch. Beside him Dean snickered, and he knew he had the same thought.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Garrett said, taking a step back.
His gaze shifted to Mr. Clipper just in time to see the man’s smile falter for a moment before his mask of polite pity fell back in place.
“You really want to bring the law into such a simple matter?” Mr. Clipper asked.
“Sure do,” Garrett grunted, “But for now you best be going. I don’t like strangers on my property, especially ones that are so bad at lyin’.”
“We will be back, Mr. Mercer,” Mr. Clipper said, and this time, there was no veneer of politeness in his voice. It was a threat, and the man wanted it to sound like one.
Garrett only grunted as he lifted his chin to them; a silent demand to move on.
Even though Mr. Shear stayed locked on Dean for another moment, the two men did return to their horses, and left without another word.
Garrett and Dean kept their eyes on them until they saw the riders reach the end of the long drive and hit the main road, but once they were off his property, Garrett let his tough-guy fa?ade slip away, and he let out a groan of frustration as he put his hands on his knees.
He wasn’t a naturally confrontational person, but he would defend the land Mr. Dawson left him with all he had. After all those years of being orphaned, with nothing and no one, there was no way he was going to allow someone to just sweep in and claim the only home he ever knew.
“You alright there?” Dean asked.
“Fine,” Garrett grit out, then drew in another deep breath as he rose back up to his full height. Dean cocked his head as he looked Garrett up and down, then his gaze shot up to Garrett’s eyes as if silently asking you sure about that?
“I just got this feeling in my gut,” Garrett confessed, knowing his friend knew him well enough to see past any fibs, “That those two men are going to be the first of many trying to take this place.”
“Mr. Dawson’s will and deed were pretty straightforward, weren’t they?” Dean asked.
Garrett just nodded, his mind going in all directions. He needed to leave, right at that moment, if he didn’t want to be late for Hannah’s train, but now he was afraid to. What if others showed up while he was gone?
“Why I got to worry about this now?” He muttered under his breath as he rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his dark blue trousers.
“Alright, fess up,” Dean insisted, looking Garrett up and down. “What’s going on with you? And I don’t mean those fellas who just left. You were nervous before they got here.”
Garrett looked reluctantly back at Dean, knowing his time of secret-keeping had come to an end.
“I met someone,” he confessed.
Dean’s brows flew up so high they disappeared under his cowboy hat.
“You dog,” he drawled, a slow smile forming on his face as he smacked Garrett’s shoulder. “You got a girl and didn’t tell me? Who is it?”
Then suddenly his face darkened and he shook his head.
“It’s not my sister, is it?” He asked.
“No!” Garrett answered quickly, and felt a tinge of guilt as he said so.
He had known at one time that Grace had started developing some feeling for him, but he politely turned her down.
Dean’s younger sister, Grace, and Logan’s younger sister, Amanda, had become like little sisters to him as well, and though he loved them, it wasn’t in the romantic way.
Grace had been a little hurt for a while when he’d told her, but that was a couple years ago, and it seemed all was well between them again.
“Well, who is it?” Dean insisted.
“It’s not anyone from town, alright?” Garrett confessed, knowing each minute passed talking was making him later for Hannah’s stage coach. “I… well, a year ago or so I decided to place an ad in the Globe. One of those mail-order bride things.”
“No, you didn’t,” Dean answered, his eyes going wide with shock. “You know how many men get scammed by those?!”
“Yeah, well, that’s why I was taking it slow!
” Garrett said defensively. “I got a few responses back, and when I made it clear I was looking for a longer courtship, all but one of them stopped writing. Her name is Hannah. We’ve been writing back and forth for a year.
She’s a good girl in a bad situation, so I thought it was time for us to meet in person. ”
Dean tsked his tongue as he kicked at the sandy dirt.
“A bad situation? Come on, son, you know that’s a scam! She was just playing the long game, is all!” Dean all but yelled.
“No, she’s not,” Garrett insisted, feeling his temper spike. “You don’t know her like I do. In our letters, if you would read them, you would see how kind and strong she is. She’s been through a lot but that doesn’t mean she’s using me.”
“And how do you know?” Dean fired back.
“The same way Mr. Dawson knew I wasn’t using him when he took me in,” Garrett shot back.
Dean’s open mouth suddenly clamped shut, and his jaw twitched with the telltale sign of grinding his teeth, no doubt an effort to keep the retort he’d had planned from flying out.
Garrett closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nostrils. The day was going south, and the last thing he needed was to end it with an argument with his best friend.
“Dean, I made this commitment to Hannah because I prayed on it. I talked to God, I talked to her. This wasn’t a last-minute decision; it was one made with great weight and consideration.”
Dean scowled, but said nothing, so Garrett went on.
“Now, she and her two younger siblings are coming into Twin Rivers by way of stage coach as we stand here arguing. By golly, they might already be at the boarding house, and I am not going to just leave them there. They came all the way from Michigan for a fresh start, and I’ve got to believe, Dean.
I’ve got to believe that God has led me here for a good reason.
I’m trusting Him. Just like you and Logan and Mr. Dawson taught me to. ”
Garrett’s words came out in an emphatic rush as his anxiety reached new heights.
He knew he was taking a risk. He knew his friends were protective of him, which was why he’d kept Hannah’s arrival a secret in the first place.
But he’d done the work. He’d put his faith in God.
And he wasn’t about to turn his back on it now.
It was another long moment before either of them spoke again.
“Well,” Dean said at last, planting his hands on his hips, “Logan and I have got to meet this little lady then, don’t we?”
A breath of relief punched out of Garrett’s lungs.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “Yeah, I would like that.”
“Alright then,” Dean said with a nod as he looked over the vast property beyond the new adobe house, “You get on into town. Meet your lady at the train station. I’ll grab Chester from the bunkhouse and tell him to keep watch while you’re gone.
Then I’ll get Logan and we’ll meet you all at the boarding house.
If she’s bringing two youngin’s you’ll probably need more room than this little buggy of yours.
We’ll help bring their stuff back here.”
Feeling another wave of relief wash over him, Garrett nodded.
“That would be great, brother. Thank you.”
“Mhmm,” Dean grunted through smashed, tight lips, then gave a terse nod toward Garrett’s buggy.
“Go on then. They’ll be waiting for ya.”
Garrett clapped his hand on Dean’s back, thankful that their argument was over, and went around to the seat of his buggy.
His nerves started to grow frenzied again as he made his way down the long drive.
Whether he was right or Dean was, Garrett wasn’t sure.
All he knew was that he wanted to find out for himself.