Chapter Four

Elizabeth had forgotten all about Grant being at the house when she and Brody rode back into the ranch. She jumped from Chocolate and gave Brody orders to put the mare away and the cowboy had grumbled under his breath but he hadn't argued. It wasn't until Elizabeth walked into the house and saw Grant sitting in the parlor with her pa drinking scotch and talking like a couple of old friends, that she remembered passing the man.

"Pa, what are you doing? You were supposed to sit on the couch until I got back!" Elizabeth scolded. Both men turned to look at her, her pa with a guilty grin and Grant with a look of shock.

"Grant stopped by and I couldn't make the man sit alone in the parlor," Ernest replied.

"Miss Elizabeth, I apologize, I passed you on the way to town and didn't recognize you. You look... uh... different today." His eyes widened when they fell on the gun on her hip.

"Yes, this is what I normally wear around the ranch. Those fancy dresses get in the way when you're wrangling steers," she replied, not bothering to hide her accent with fancy dialect. She looked back at her pa, "The doc was busy," she lied. "He said he might ride out later in the week."

"I don't need that old doc. I'm dying, plain and simple, and all he ever says is, rest, rest, rest. Hell, I'll have plenty of time for that once I'm dead."

Elizabeth winced at the certainty in his tone and he rose to his feet, as did Grant, "I have to be getting out in the field and checking on the cattle. You and Grant should spend some time together, get to know each other a little." he said with a twinkle in his eyes. Then he looked at Grant and his blue eyes turned harder, "Anita will be here of course," he warned.

Grant nodded quickly, "Of course sir."

"But pa, I've got work to do," Elizabeth cut in.

Ernest shook his head as he walked toward the door. He stopped before walking out, "You can wait until later. Mr. Foster came a long way to get to know you, so treat him as well as you would any guest."

Elizabeth could see the hard, no nonsense look in her fathers eyes and she knew that if she disobeyed he would be angry, "Yes, pa," she replied and she reached up and pulled off her hat, letting her long braid fall down her back. She unhooked the gun belt from her hips and hung it by the door. She pressed a kiss to her father's weathered cheek before he walked out and then walked back over to the table.

Elizabeth's gaze landed on the half empty bottle of scotch on the table, "Mr. Foster, would you like to keep drinking your scotch this early or maybe you like to have Anita bring us some tea?"

Grant cleared his throat and nodded, "Tea would be fine, Miss Elizabeth. You don't mind if call you Elizabeth do you?"

Elizabeth wanted to tell him that yes, she minded and he better not call her Elizabeth but then she remembered the desperate look on her fathers face the night before, and she remembered Anita's words. Anita had been right. She owed it to her father to at least give Grant a chance.

"That would be fine," she replied, plastering a kind, charming smile on her face.

Anita came into the room carrying a pot of tea and Grant pulled out a chair for Elizabeth to sit down. Elizabeth bristled at having a man assume she needed him to pull out her chair but she bit back her smart retort and sat down.

"Thank you for the tea, ma'am," Grant flashed Anita a charming smile that was so white it seemed to sparkle. Anita blushed and stuttered as she smiled and backed out of the room.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she went about pouring them both a cup of tea. Why did some women let themselves become stuttering piles of nerves around attractive men? There was no way Elizabeth would ever let herself fall apart like that.

"I was not aware that you worked the ranch, Miss Elizabeth."

"I've been working the ranch since I learned to walk, Mr. Foster. I know it inside and out, forward and backward. I'll be working this ranch until the day I die."

Grant nodded but inside he knew she was wrong. Once he was her husband she wouldn't wear these ridiculous clothes anymore and she wouldn't be out getting her hands dirty and sweating with the men. And that gun? That gun would never again touch her hands!

"I'm interested to learn about the workings of a ranch," Grant replied. "I would say you are just the person to teach me."

Elizabeth was thankful that the topic of conversation was on something she was comfortable talking about. The ranch was her life.

***

Brody was just getting ready to ride out into the hills when Ernest McCready rode up beside him, "I'll ride out with you Brody." Brody nodded and the two men started out.

"I take it you took Elizabeth into town this morning?" Ernest asked after a long silence.

Brody nodded again, "That's right sir."

Ernest stared off at the horizon for several moments and Brody could hear the way his lungs were wheezing with every breath the old man took.

"You need to know that my daughter is off limits to the ranch hands." Brody lit a cigarette and took a long draw, "I've heard."

Ernest wondered where he'd heard but didn't ask. Whatever the ranch hands talked about in the privacy of their bunkhouse was their own business.

The men continued on in silence and finally met with the other hands, "How do the cattle seem Braxton?" Ernest asked as they rode up to the giant man.

"Pretty good, sir. We have a few missing but I sent Frank and Thomas out to find them. I'm sure they just wandered away from the main herd."

"Good. Good," Ernest said and then he wandered down toward the herd leaving Braxton and Brody standing there alone.

"He's a sick man," Braxton sighed. Brody nodded but said nothing. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's gone before the month is out. Too bad that daughter of his won't be taking over the ranch."

Brody raised a brow but again said nothing. This wasn't any of his business and quite frankly he wasn't sure he cared much for Braxton anymore. The man seemed to like to talk about things he had no business talking about.

"Her pa won't leave the ranch to her if she unmarried 'cause he's worried someone will come along and take advantage of his little girl. She don't know that of course. That's why he's pushing her so hard to get married to a good man."

Brody noticed that Braxton seemed bitter as he said the last words and suddenly he thought maybe he understood. Braxton wanted to marry Elizabeth. Whether that was because he cared about the woman or just because he wanted the ranch, Brody didn't know and didn't care. That would also explain why had made Elizabeth sound bad in order to keep Brody away from her. Brody didn't have much for a man that would lie about a woman in order to get what he wanted. Brody could tell good enough that Elizabeth wasn't a whore that chewed men up and spit them out the way Braxton had made her seem. Hell she'd basically turned into a block of ice when he'd grabbed her in that barn.

"Nice talking to ya Braxton," Brody lied and then he urged his horse down the hill to join the other men.

Braxton watched the man go and shook his head. He had heard about Brody taking Elizabeth into town and Braxton knew that if there was ever a cowboy that could steal Elizabeth's heart it would be one like Brody. Good thing Brody didn't seem to have any interest in her. Braxton had his plan all worked out.

At first he had hoped he'd be able to marry Elizabeth himself and gain the ranch that way. Elizabeth might be thirty years younger than him but that just meant she could be trained and she was prettier then any woman he'd seen before, but Ernest had quickly made it clear that no ranch hand would ever marry his daughter. So Braxton began working on Ernest. He had been working at this ranch for many years and was already friends with the old man but he began to make the friendship deeper, building more and more trust, and it had worked.

Ernest had already let him know that if he died before Elizabeth married, Braxton would inherit the ranch. Of course Braxton had promised to let Elizabeth run the ranch, but once the old man was dead, Braxton would no longer have to worry about keeping his promise. Elizabeth would never agree to marry a man like Grant, and Ernest was heading faster and faster toward deaths door with every breath he took, so Braxton was confident that very soon this ranch would be his.

Of course Elizabeth had no idea of any of this. Ernest hadn't told her yet because he wanted her to pick her husband without the thought of losing the ranch hanging over her head. Braxton smiled and then urged his horse forward to join everyone else at the bottom of the hill.

***

Ernest was wheezing heavily when he finally finished unsaddling his horse and Brody had insisted that the man go relax while he put the horse away. Ernest walked out of the barn and then leaned on the door frame for support. He turned his head toward the corral when his daughter's laughter caught his ear.

He couldn't help but shake his head and smile when he saw her sitting a top the mare that Brody had been trying so hard to break. Clearly the mare was broken and Elizabeth was leading it around and around the corral, while Grant watched on.

"I must say, Elizabeth, that was quite a good show," Grant declared as he clapped.

"Thank you, Mr. Foster," Elizabeth replied, high on adrenaline and feeling generous toward him. Truthfully over the last few hours she had learned that she could tolerate him quite well. Sure he was a city man and had no clue how to go about working a ranch but he seemed eager to learn and that earned him some points in her book.

"What the hell are you doing?" Brody demanded as he stormed from the barn and up to the corral. "I was breaking that horse!"

Ernest's eyes widened but he decided to leave this situation up to Elizabeth, Brody and Grant to handle.

"You failed at breaking her, Brody, so I took over."

"Do you know this man well enough to be calling him by his first name?" Grant asked as he rose to his full height, which was still a few inches shorter than Brody, and did his best to look intimidating.

"I don't have to know him to call him by his first name. He works for me," she replied haughtily and she saw Brody bristle. Strange how she could already read his emotions so easily after only spending a few short hours with him this morning.

"Damn woman, why do you have to be such a...."

"Watch what you say cowpoke." Grant warned. He wasn't a fighting man but he wanted this ranch and he knew he had to defend his future wife's honor if he was going to get it.

"Grant, I don't need you to defend me. I'm quite capable of dealing with Brody," Elizabeth said, sitting ram rod straight in the saddle and looking down her nose at both men.

Grant, clean and polished. Looking sophisticated, cultured and soft.

Brody, dirty and wild. Looking untamed, rugged and hard.

"Brody," Elizabeth said, forcing her eyes to look into his own, which looked sharp enough to cut straight through her, "Why don't you go clean the stalls in the cow barn. I'm sure the heifers would appreciate it."

Brody's posture was rigid as he tipped his hat, "Yes ma'am," he growled in a voice that was cold and angry and then he turned on his heel and walked toward the cattle barn. His steps long, confident and just as arrogant as he was.

Elizabeth jumped from the mare and then hopped over the fence and walked up to Grant, "You're quite a woman, Miss Elizabeth," he said with a wide grin.

"Why thank you, Grant." she replied smiling back. Out of all the men her pa had tried to set her up with, he certainly seemed the nicest. Of course that didn't mean she was going to marry the man.

She wanted to marry a man that made her feel heat and intensity when they met each others gaze. A man whose very touch would turn her blood to fire and a man who she could spend hours working with, pounding fences and running cattle without ever having to say a word to one another. That was the kind of husband she wanted.

"I'm afraid I have to be getting to town, Miss Elizabeth, but I greatly enjoyed spending these last few hours with you and I pray that you will let me come back and spend some more time with you tomorrow? I thought that perhaps I could ride out, pick you up in my buggy and we could ride into town together. Perhaps go to lunch?"

"Actually..." Elizabeth started to refuse but then she saw her father's watchful gaze and sighed, "Yes. That'd be nice."

Grant grabbed her hand in his and then pressed his lips to her knuckles. His lips were cold and wet and while they didn't feel altogether unpleasant, she felt no fire, no heat, no intensity.

"Until tomorrow then," he whispered, his blue eyes gazing deep into hers and nearly making her go cross-eyed as she looked down at him.

"Tomorrow," she replied. He straightened and she watched him walk away and climb back in his buggy. His polished shoes shone in the sunlight as he headed down the road.

"Thank you for giving him a chance," Ernest said walking up to his daughter.

"Pa, I'm not marrying him," she replied with exasperation.

"We'll see," Ernest countered and then he put his hand to his chest as his wheezing grew louder.

"Pa, are you okay?" Elizabeth asked as she grabbed his arm. He shook his head as his face turned a dark purple. Panic set in when she realized that her father couldn't breathe. She patted his back and screamed for help.

She hadn't realized anyone was coming and then suddenly Brody was there. He moved her out of the way, grabbed Ernest's arm and swatted him several times on the back so hard that the sound vibrated through the air.

Ernest gasped as air entered his lungs and he collapsed against Brody's chest.

"Pa?" Elizabeth asked warily.

Brody looked down at her and saw how pale and scared she was and for the first time in his life he found himself wanting to comfort someone else, "He'll be okay, Miss McCready. We just need to get him in to lay down."

Brody was still mad that she had broken the mare he'd been working on and even madder that she'd flexed her muscle and sent him to clean the cattle barn, but there was something about seeing this clearly strong and stubborn woman looking scared to death, that brought out the gentler side of him.... Not that the gentler side was much different than the hard side.

"Come on then, you can lay him in the bed," Elizabeth replied as she took off her hat and wrung it nervously in her hands. It was clear that Ernest wanted to argue but was feeling too weak so instead he let Brody help him into the house. Brody followed Elizabeth up the stairs to Ernest's bedroom and laid him down.

"Rest pa," Elizabeth whispered gently. She pressed a kiss to the old man's weathered cheek and then stepped out into the hallway, closing the door.

"Chamomile tea, ma'am," Brody said.

Elizabeth shook her head to snap herself out of her fear and looked at him. He was standing with a wide legged stance, his thumbs through his belt loops and that same cool, confident look on his face, only now she could see something that resembled concern in his green eyes.

"Huh?" she asked.

"During the war, ma'am, there were some men with coughs like that. The only thing that gave them any peace was Chamomile tea."

"Thank you, Brody," Elizabeth replied. Their eyes locked together and Elizabeth felt as if someone had just lit a match beneath her. Her entire body was heating at the intensity in his gaze. She wondered if he felt the same thing. His hard face was unreadable as he stared down at her.

Brody cleared his throat and took a step away from her, "I'll be getting back to work now."

Elizabeth found herself unable to reply and simply watched him turn and walk away. What was it about Brody Atkinson that had her so confused and acting so much like a..... a woman. He was arrogant, cocky, rude and anti-social. He had manhandled her in the barn, though honestly he could have been worse. She had pulled a gun on him and stuck it to his face.

She heard her father coughing and it broke through her thoughts. She had more important things to worry about right now then Brody and her irritating reaction to him.

"Anita!" she called as she walked down the stairs. "Anita, do we have any chamomile?"