The Fire in Ember - DiAnn Mills [3]
Leon picked up his broken bottle. Most likely looking to see if any of the amber liquid in the bottom was drinkable. “Mr. Oberlander will want to know where we found his horse.”
“Tell him the truth.” John shot him a look meant to challenge him.
Leon raised a scraggly brow. “Some money in my pocket would keep me quiet.”
John refused to let Leon see his anger. “I’ll take the horse and the boy to Mr. Oberlander, since it’s his property.” He studied the boy while Ted cut the rope binding his hands behind him. The kid shook so that he had difficulty jumping down from Oberlander’s mare. “You all right?”
The boy nodded.
“What’s your name?”
The boy stared at him.
“Where you from?”
Nothing. Not even a muscle moved. His right eye was turning blue. Swollen too. John turned his attention to Leon. “Did you beat up this kid?”
“He did,” the boy said.
For sure the boy wasn’t older than eleven or twelve. He’d tan Davis’s hide if he ever pulled a stunt like this. “Well that proves you aren’t deaf and mute. Come on over here and climb up behind me. You’ve got a horse to return. Then we’re having a long talk about taking another man’s property. I have a mind to let you spend a night in jail. Might knock some sense into you.”
CHAPTER 2
Bert stood beside John Timmons on the front porch of Mr. Oberlander’s house—a grand, two-story home with real windows, a porch that wrapped around two sides, a stone front, and fresh whitewash. She didn’t know whether to run or wait it out. She knew the man who’d saved her neck was having second thoughts. The evidence surfaced in his frustrated explanation to Mr. Oberlander about the return of his missing mare.
Trying to calm the turmoil in her mind, she studied the huge ranch that sprawled over rolling green pastures with the foothills and mountains in the distance. Everywhere she looked, cattle and horses grazed. Even the barns looked fancy—fancier than what she’d ever seen.
And she’d almost made it here except for those ranch hands.
Meanwhile, Mr. Oberlander demanded payment for the months he’d been without his horse. Like a rabbit spits out babies, the two men tossed out dollar amounts regarding the mare she was accused of stealing.
The ranch hands who had found her riding across the Wide O Ranch had disappeared. All it took was Oberlander shouting a three-word order, and they’d scattered in the direction of one of the barns. From the sight of the grizzly looking man, she’d have run too.
Bert studied the young man who’d saved her life. Leon referred to him as a deputy, a title that frightened her as much as the near hanging.
“I’m telling you, John. I need some compensation for what this kid caused me. For six months I’ve searched for my mare. Even considered one of my hands might have stolen her. Who is this kid, anyway?”
John breathed out a sigh and glanced her way. No doubt he regretted stopping the hanging. “He won’t say.”
“A no-good runaway.” Oberlander eyed her. “He’s bad news. I’m of a mind to make him work off the trouble he’s caused. Leon would whip him into shape.”
Leon would kill me. She refused to show her fear, but the notion of taking off on John’s horse waved like a flag. Except he’d tied the stallion to a hitching post.
John cleared his throat. “How much?”
“Three hundred dollars.”
“I could buy you six horses for that amount of money.”
“This one cost me plenty. I bought her as a filly from a ranch south of Denver. Gave her the name of Queen Victoria for the queen of England, because she’s royalty. None like her for miles around. You know that, John. Look at the quarter horse you’re riding—the white face and feet. He’s a fine stallion, and I heard what you paid for him. One I’d like to buy or breed with my mare. Or buy.”
“We could work out the breeding. Both are fine horses, but he’s not for sale.”
“Never mind. I need three hundred dollars.”
“One hundred. You have your horse, and that is more than compensation for your time.”
The owner of the finest mare Bert had ever ridden or seen rubbed his