Chapter Four

Rex sat at the kitchen table, watching Tillie with a furrowed brow. She picked up a strip of bacon and brought it to her lips, but instead of taking a bite, she just nibbled on the edge. She then pushed her scrambled eggs around with her fork, creating patterns in the yellow mound. Finally, she strategically placed a piece of toast over the eggs, as if trying to hide them from view. Rex couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her mind as he finished his own breakfast.

“Is there something wrong with the eggs?” Annamae asked.

Tillie sheepishly picked up the bacon and took a full bite, swallowing it without chewing. “Not at all. I guess I just feel like I’m rocking from the stagecoach.”

Rex grinned from behind his coffee cup. She was a terrible liar.

“Hmmm.” Annamae opened the kitchen door and craned her neck, looking around the yard. “I’m surprised Sawyer hasn’t returned for breakfast.”

Rex’s eyebrows furrowed, and he gazed directly at Tillie before answering. “He headed towards the west pasture. I think there is that broken fence that needs to be fixed.”

Tillie’s hand continued to move back and forth, stirring the eggs on her plate as she nodded her head absentmindedly.

“The pasture?” Annamae closed the door. “He shouldn’t be out there. What if he catches cold?”

“It’s just a cold,” George sneered. “He won’t die from a cold. Tillie, pass me those biscuits.”

“He just might,” Annamae retorted.

Tillie stopped stirring and looked at Annamae. “What does that mean?” she asked, laying her fork on her plate.

Annamae sat at the table, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s not my story to tell. I just want him back home.”

Rex finished his coffee and put his cup down. “He told me he just needed some time alone. I am sure he’ll be back shortly.”

“Is anyone out there with him?” Tillie asked.

“I think the boys were in the east one today.”

“Rex, will you bring him back?” Annamae pleaded. “It looks like rain.”

George scooped a pat of butter onto his knife and spread it across the golden, flaky biscuit. He directed his words at the table as he spoke. “I can’t believe all this commotion over Sawyer fixing a measly fence or getting caught in the rain. You all act like a bunch of overprotective mother hens.”

Rex furrowed his brow and pushed away from the table, striding outside. He tilted his head up to study the sky, noting the position and color of the looming clouds before pivoting on his heel and re-entering the house.

“Looks like it’s about an hour and a half away. Fix him some biscuits and I’ll go saddle up and fetch the saddlebag with the coffeepot in it.” He kissed the top of Annamae’s head. “Don’t worry, Annie. I’ll go get your husband.”

Annamae wiped her eyes with her apron and grabbed the bowl of biscuits before George could take the last two.

Rex grabbed his hat off a peg by the door and placed it on his head. “Do you like horses, Tillie?”

She nearly bounded from her chair. “Oh yes. Very much.”

“Would you care to join me while I ride out and get Sawyer? I can show you around the ranch.”

“I’d love to,” Tillie clapped her hands. Watching her face light up like a child being offered a favorite toy, Rex couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through him.

George spoke up, “I wouldn’t mind accompanying you. It’ll give me a chance to observe how your ranch works firsthand.”

Rex’s heart sank as George announced he would join them for the day. He didn’t want to disappoint George, but he yearned for the chance to be alone with Tillie and get to know her better.

“Are you sure you want to go, George?” Tillie asked.

“I suppose I could just stay here and ask Annie a hundred questions about the ranch, couldn’t I? Unless it isn’t too much trouble for me to come along?”

Rex couldn’t help but notice the calculating glint in George’s eyes. It made Rex uneasy, as if George was trying to wedge his way into their plans, despite not being fully wanted. Tillie, sensing the tension, shifted from one foot to another and avoided eye contact with both Rex and George.

Despite hoping for a quiet moment alone with Tillie, Rex was now torn. He didn’t want to leave Annamae alone in George’s manipulative ways, but he also didn’t want to spend the day with him. With a heavy heart, he nodded at George, forcing a smile onto his face. This wasn’t how he had envisioned his day going.

“Sure thing.” He handed Tillie the coat she was wearing earlier. “When you are ready, head out to the barn.”

As they stepped outside, Tillie hesitated, glancing at the darkening clouds above.

“Are you sure it’s safe to go out there with the storm coming?” she asked, her voice betraying her nerves.

Rex nodded confidently, his eyes scanning the horizon. “We’ll be back before it hits. Don’t worry, I know this land like the back of my hand.”

Her footsteps echoed softly on the rocky dirt as she trailed behind him to the stable. His mind raced with thoughts, wondering if she had been hoping for some alone time with him as well.

“Hey Rex!”

He looked up to see Petunia riding across Annamae’s garden. The garden was bare, but there were still a few pumpkins along one edge. “Don’t let Annamae catch you doing that,” he called. “She’s saving those pumpkins to make pie.”

“Sorry.” Petunia moved her horse to the side. “I’m going hunting. Looks like it might rain. Wanted to see if I could borrow your rifle.”

“Not right now, Pet. I’m going over to the pasture to get Sawyer.”

Petunia grinned. “Well, ain’t you in luck. I was headed that way, too. You see, I saw a complete jumble of rabbits just hopping along the creek on my way over here.”

“Pet? What kind of name is that?” Tillie asked.

“Short for Petunia, ma’am.”

Tillie grabbed Rex’s arm. “Oh, my goodness. You’re a girl.”

Petunia’s eyebrows furrowed, pulling her forehead into a deep crease. She scrunched up her nose and took a sharp inhale, as if catching a whiff of something putrid. “Of course I’m a girl,” she exclaimed incredulously. “What else could I be?”

“I just thought…” Tillie put a finger up to her mouth and captured her nail between her teeth. “Well, you look like one of those mountain people with the buckskins and that vermin on your head.” Perched on top of Petunia’s short hair was a raccoon hat, with its beady black eyes peeping out from behind its black and white mask. Its fur was matted and dirty, blending into Petunia’s own unkempt appearance.

“Who? Conrad?” Petunia reached her hands up to pat her head, as if she was afraid the creature had disappeared. “Took him right outta a tree.”

“You named him?” Tillie raised an eyebrow, surprised by the girl’s audacity.

“Yeah, sure did.” Petunia’s tone was matter of fact, with no remorse in her voice. She casually swung off her horse and tied it to the post outside the stable. “I needed a hat for hunting. Conrad is a good name.”

Rex watched the interaction between Tillie and Petunia with a mixture of amusement and concern.

“Pet’s a crack shot with that slingshot of hers. And she’s going to be the best hunter on this side of Flat River.”

Petunia beamed at the praise from Rex, adjusting her raccoon hat proudly. “That’s because I have the best teacher.” She fisted her hand and socked him in the shoulder. “You said you’re headed out to the pasture?”

“The west one. Sawyer is out there, and Annamae wants him back before the storm.”

Petunia looked at Tillie. “You like huntin’?”

Tillie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and placed it in front of her nose. “No. I dislike hunting and shooting and any such nonsense.”

“How do you eat then?” Petunia asked, hiking up her buckskin britches that were a bit too big.

“I don’t know what you mean. I eat at the table.” Tillie huffed. “Let’s go, Rex, before the storm hits.”

“You should have Rex take you hunting. You’ll be more appreciative of a full belly if’in you know where your dinner comes from.”

Rex suppressed a chuckle as Tillie struggled to maintain her composure, swatting away the overpowering odor of dead raccoon and Petunia. He needed to rescue Tillie before she fainted away. Waving towards the barn, he called his friend. “Come on, Pet. You can help me saddle the horses. I’ll need three of them.”

“But I’ve got my horse.”

“Yeah, but her brother is coming.”

“Sure thing, Rex,” she responded, grabbing a saddle, and heading towards the horses.

As Petunia rustled around the stable, preparing the horses for the ride to the pasture, Rex turned his attention back to Tillie. She stood awkwardly by the stable entrance, clearly uncomfortable moving any closer to Petunia.

Petunia saddled Daisy, one of the calm mares, and handed the reins to Rex. “I’ll get your horse,” she said, disappearing back inside the barn.

“Let’s get you on her,” Rex offered, handing the reins to Tillie.

“What’s her name?”

“Daisy. She won’t give you any trouble.” Why did his voice sound like he was coming down with a sore throat? He made a note to find Ma’s tonic and take a sip later.

Crouching down, he securely held the stirrup in place as she placed her foot in it. She gripped onto his broad, muscular shoulders for support as he guided her up and onto the sturdy back of the horse.

As her hand lightly grazed his shoulder, his eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn’t help but hold his breath. The softness of her touch, the gentle pressure of her fingers against his shirt, sent tingles of warmth radiating through his body. He stood up and reached for her hip, gripping it firmly to help her onto the horse. The closeness between them was overwhelming, and he needed to move away, to take a deep breath and steady himself.

Just as she was settled, he swung onto his own horse and George emerged from the house with a small knapsack.

“That’s for Sawyer.” George handed the bag to Rex, who put it in the saddlebag. Noticing Petunia standing by the large doors, George’s eyes opened wide at the raccoon on top of her head. “Who’s that?”

Rex motioned with his hand. “This here’s Petunia. She’s Baxter’s sister-in-law.”

“That makes us kin too.” She gave George a toothy grin. “We’s kin.”

George grumbled something unintelligible under his breath before climbing onto the empty saddle. Rex moved alongside him. “I don’t care who you are, or if you are related to Sawyer, you won’t be rude to that girl. Got it?”

Grunting in response, George eyed Petunia warily as they rode out to the pasture. Tillie kept a wide berth from her brother, her eyes darting nervously between him and Petunia, who seemed unfazed by George’s presence.

Rex led the way to the west pasture. Petunia rode next to him with easy confidence, her raccoon hat bobbing with each step her horse took. He looked over his shoulder to see Tillie, still perched atop Daisy, relaxing slightly as the landscape stretched out before them. Her handkerchief remained pressed against her nose.

“Rex, how many acres does this ranch cover?” George called from his own horse, breaking the momentary silence with the question.

“We own around six hundred acres.” Rex shifted uncomfortably and took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check as George bombarded him with question after question about the ranch’s operations. He couldn’t help but glance over at Tillie, wishing they could have a moment alone together. However, George was determined to gather every piece of information he could, his pen scribbling furiously on a notepad as Rex answered each inquiry through clenched teeth.

“I thought the Homestead Act was only 160 acres,” George responded smugly.

Rex wrapped the reins around his hand once more. “Ain’t no law saying you can’t buy land.”

“George, isn’t it beautiful here? Everything is still so green, even though it is November.”

“It is rather picturesque, Matilda. How much did the ranch bring in last year?”

Rex rubbed the back of his neck. “Can’t rightly say that is any of your business, but we do alright.”

“Thieving a problem?”

“Thieving?”

“You know. Cattle rustlers, horse thieves, folks like that?”

Rex wasn’t sure where George was going with his questions, but an uncomfortable feeling was building in his belly. The memory of the Richards gang’s threats and Vangie’s disappearance simmered just below the surface of his thoughts.

“Can’t rightly say about that, either.”

Despite Tillie’s attempts to steer the conversation toward lighter topics, George remained determined and continued to inquire about the financials, the herds, and the workers. He was relentless.

“Golly day. Do you ever stop talking?” Petunia huffed. “I’m going to go down to the creek and hunt those rabbits. I’ll catch up with you later. Maybe he won’t have any more questions.”

As Petunia rode off toward the creek, Rex couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy at her freedom. George’s relentless questioning had put a damper on the otherwise peaceful ride, with Rex growing more and more irritated at his probing. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease settling in his stomach that George’s inquiries were not just innocent curiosity. Tillie kept her eyes downcast, trying to avoid any confrontation with her brother.

Rex pushed his worn cowboy hat back with two fingers, squinting up at the unyielding sky. The clouds remained stubbornly still, but he could see a glimmer of sunlight off in the distance.

As George resumed speaking, Rex focused on the small patch of light, silently praying for the strength to get through this trying moment and for a chance to speak to Tillie without her brother.