1
As Luke Hamblin stepped out the bunkhouse door, the biting wind shoved him back with a hard thud. Drat the weather.
“I’m all right,” he called to his housekeeper before she or any of the hands came out to investigate the noise.
He stepped away from the building. Another gust hit, forcing him to put both hands on his new Stetson. Severe cold coming in late November didn’t bode well for the winter. As though the weather had heard his thought, a snowflake smacked his face. A big, fat one. It was a good thing his Thanksgiving company had already arrived. They might need to stay the night. Still holding his hat, Luke ran for the main house.
As he opened the door, another blast of wind hit, rattling the shutters and ripping the door from his grasp. He scrambled to catch it, a tinge of worry for his cattle increasing his unease. It was a good thing they’d already culled the herd.
Luke hung up his heavy coat and hat. He followed the sound of voices to the dining room.
When he entered the room, a cozy scene greeted him, pushing back his previous concerns about the weather. This time last year it’d been his housekeeper, foreman, and their children who’d shared their meal with him. For the first time in almost ten years, he was spending the holiday with his family. Having them around him was something Luke would be forever grateful for. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“Here’s Luke now,” Charles Merrick said from where he stood by the fireplace with Marshall Breckinridge.
Unable to keep back a grin, Luke joined his new brothers-in-law, saying, “What disagreement do you need me to settle this time?”
“I wouldn’t rightly call it a disagreement,” Charles, the peacekeeper, said. That was one of the things that made him such a good deputy sheriff for the little town of Lilac City. He had a way of smooth-talking folks, unlike the sheriff with his brusquer manner.
“I woulddefinitelycall it a disagreement.” Marshall crossed his arms and leaned against the mantel.
The hint of a smirk in his expression told Luke what was going on. The man was once again egging on Charles, who’d inherited a stud farm from his grandfather back East and was planning to ship the herd to Wyoming in the spring. Marshall enjoyed giving useful advice but also offering dire predictions. Charles had been dismayed to discover he’d have to expand his herd to more than only his grandfather’s hot-headed thoroughbreds if he meant to sell stud services to western ranchers.
One of Luke’s cowhands stood to the side, looking very much like he wanted to say something. Nick was probably too intimidated to speak up. The young man regularly ate with the family instead of in the bunkhouse with the rest of the men at the special invitation of Luke’s youngest sister. The twenty-three-year-old man had come to Wyoming earlier that year from a ranch in Texas and often had good suggestions.
“What have you got to say, Nick?” Luke asked, curious.
Startled, the young man’s face flushed. He glanced to the side as though he searched for a quick getaway.
“No, you’re not going to escape.” Luke grabbed his sleeve and pulled him over. “You should tell my brothers-in-law what you’re thinking.”
“Well, uh, you remember I grew up on a cattle ranch in Texas.” When all three men nodded, Nick shifted uncomfortably.
“I’d be interested to know how you might do things differently there than we do it here in Wyoming,” Marshall said, the teasing now gone. There was a good reason he was so successful as the owner of a working dude ranch.
“It’s not that y’all do things so different, but that we have some breeds I ain’t seen here.” Nick shoved his hands in his pockets, once again looking as though he’d prefer to be somewhere else.
“Such as,” Luke encouraged.
“Have you ever heard of a steeldust?”
“Yes,” Luke and Marshall said at the same time.
“A what?” Charles asked.
“Go ahead and explain,” Luke said with a nod.
“It’s a breed of Quarter Horse. Comes from a horse by the same name.” Nick seemed to relax as he warmed to the topic. “They got small ears, a big jaw, and are heavy muscled. They’re right smart and run like lightning in a quarter-mile race. It’s the only breed my pa will have on his ranch. We usually just call them cow horses because they’ve got an instinct about cattle. So, if you’re looking to breed good horses for ranch use, Deputy Merrick, you might want to consider a steeldust.”
“Well, I’ll look into them. They might be just what I need.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the door to the kitchen where they could hear the womenfolk talking and laughing. “It’s been a disappointment to discover what my grandfather spent his whole life building isn’t a great fit out here. I’ll have to stay on as deputy longer than I’d hoped.”
“The sheriff will be glad even if your wife isn’t.” Marshall clapped Charles on the back.
“Says the man whose new bride is perfectly happy withhisjob,” Luke said.
“Who’s not happy with your job?” Frances asked, striding into the room. Nick looked relieved she’d finally joined them and moved to stand by her.
“Have you snuck out of the kitchen again?” Luke asked his youngest sister.
