The Tribute Read online

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  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  512 Forest Lake Drive

  Warner Robins, Georgia 31093

  The Tribute

  Copyright © 2007 by Beth Williamson

  Cover by Scott Carpenter

  ISBN: 1-59998-447-4

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2007

  The Tribute

  Beth Williamson

  Dedication

  To my good friend and critique partner, Sasha. Thank you for your friendship, support, guidance, and everything in between. Lotsa love, babe.

  Prologue

  April 1888

  The sun warmed the chilly morning and Brett held his hat dutifully as a breeze blew through the small cemetery. The sound of cicadas and crickets played a requiem for Martin Samson. Finally, Brett’s wait was over.

  He never expected a pair of deuces would win him a ranch in a poker game. He still couldn’t believe the codger had thrown the deed into the pot. The whole thing started at the regular Saturday night game in the saloon in Cheshire, not some high-stakes game. He’d known Martin Samson all his life. Strange old bird who kept to himself. Raised a few cattle on his ranch and came into town for supplies now and then.

  Now he’d passed on and Brett was making good on his promise made almost a year ago.

  “Why the hell did you put that in the pot?” Brett had asked as he perused the deed.

  Martin shrugged. “I ain’t got nobody to leave it to. Doc says I ain’t got but a few months to live. Might just as well make sure somebody gets it that’s gonna take care of it. If there’s one thing I know about you Malloy boys, you take care of your own.”

  Brett had stared at the paper in his hands. His. A ranch. All his. The paper trembled just slightly in his grip so he folded it and set it on the scarred table top.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’m not gonna insult you by trying to give it back, but I ain’t gonna take it from you now. You can live there, do whatever you been doing until you’re gone. I’ll take care of speaking some words over your grave and make sure you get a proper burial.”

  Martin nodded. “That sounds right fair, Brett Malloy. And I sure do appreciate it.”

  Brett shook Martin’s gnarled hand, surprised to find the older man’s grip weak, his hands bony and slender. Whatever illness he had was definitely sucking the life out of him.

  Out of respect for Martin, Brett stayed away from the ranch. He tucked that deed down deep in his stash of private things at home and waited. One thing Brett was good at was waiting.

  Brett kept the knowledge that he had his own property, his own ranch, to himself. Surprisingly he hadn’t told his brother Trevor, even though he was closest in age and his best friend.

  Now Brett stood at the graveside with the preacher, listening to the kind words spoken about a man he hadn’t known very well. It appeared Brett and the bartender from the saloon were the only ones who came to pay respects. It didn’t matter because Brett had kept his word and that’s what was important.

  The deed crinkled in his pocket. As though shaking itself like some kind of burlesque dancer waving her female charms at him, trying to push Brett into going to the ranch, but he resisted. Something else Brett was good at.

  After the service, the grave was filled in, and Brett said his thanks to the preacher. Brett and Mike went down to the saloon to have a whiskey and salute Martin, who had been a good customer. Hours passed while they talked and had a few more whiskeys. Finally, mid-afternoon rolled around and Brett broke free from Mike without being too conspicuous. Truth was, Brett’d already been to the lawyer in town and verified the ranch was his in legal terms. Martin had signed it over to him. Brett had nothing to worry about, nothing to hide, yet he still kept the information to himself.

  Growing up with five brothers and one sister made it hard to have anything for himself. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell anyone. There were no secrets, no special items that didn’t get shared, taken or broken. It was just the way of things when you had so many siblings.

  After leaving the saloon, Brett headed out toward the ranch, a bubble of excitement building inside him. He wasn’t the type of man to get overly eager, to be goofy like his younger brother Jack, angry like his older brother Ray, or charming like Trevor. Brett simply stood in the shadows, watching, waiting, knowing one day his chance would come.

  Today was that day. An unexpected grin curled his lips. He leaned low on the horse and urged it into a gallop, flying across the miles to get to the ranch as fast as he could. When it came into view, he thought perhaps he was seeing things.

  When he finally rode into the yard, he realized it wasn’t as bad as he thought. It was much, much worse.

  Brett looked around at the sagging roof, the barn leaning to one side, missing boards, rotted boards poking out, evidence of many critters inhabiting the buildings. It had been quite some time since Martin had anything besides his old nag in that corral. Half the posts were broken or missing. Some of the cross-beams were in the same condition. The joy and excitement disappeared in a blink.

  Brett’s dream ranch was more like a nightmare.

  Chapter One

  July 1889

  “I need to get married.”

  As soon as the words left Brett’s mouth, he felt the truth of them like a mule kick.

  Kincaid’s dark brows rose. “I hope you’re not considering me.”

  Brett rolled his eyes. “Not hardly. I mean now that I’m finally starting my own ranch, I need a wife. A good one, who won’t drive me to the whores in town.”

  “I suppose that’s what lots of men want.”

  They cleaned out the fireplace—what looked to be burned-up pieces of a table and chairs—and carried the charred wood outside. As they piled on the trash from inside the house, Brett thought more and more about what exactly he did want. A home, a wife, children probably. His brothers and sister certainly enjoyed all of that. He wanted what they had. He wanted it all. The fiasco with Adelaide and his brother Trevor in Cheyenne had taught Brett a valuable lesson.

  It was all about love, and choosing the right woman.

  As they walked into the bedrooms, they discovered a rope mattress made of straw holding a city-full of mice and enough of their droppings to fertilize an acre of corn. Brett and Kincaid dragged it all outside and threw it into a big pile. Mice scattered everywhere.

  Brett shook his head. “The woman I want is not just another girl. She’s a doctor.”

  “A doctor?” Kincaid coughed as the mattress hit the dirt.

  “Yep, the town doctor. Used to be her pa’s job, but he took sick a while back. Now she’s it.”

  He’d spent a good portion of his youth following after Alex. Everyone always assumed they’d marry after Brett finally caught her. The truth was, Brett had been working up the nerve to ask her to marry him when things changed. When the foreman unexpectedly died, ranch duties kept him away from town for weeks on end. During that time, Alex made her choice to walk away from what they had and Brett had lived with it since.

  He was going to change that starting now.

&nbs
p; Brett stepped back into the house and pictured Alex Brighton in the kitchen. The curvy blonde had everything he wanted in a wife. Even though the place was dusty and dirty, and smelled like mouse shit, it felt good to stand in his own house. Soon it would be a home.

  After Brett and Kincaid finished going through the house, they were both covered with dirt. Kincaid looked down at himself and frowned.

  “I was planning on visiting a lady in town, but I’m gonna need to go take a bath before I do that.”

  Brett caught a whiff of his own stench and realized he had the same problem. He couldn’t go courting Alex like this, but he and Kincaid had to finish what they started. Then they could go to town and get cleaned up. He wondered if Alex would be surprised to see him.

  “All right, let’s go check out that barn. Hopefully it won’t fall over on us.”

  Kincaid chuckled. “I didn’t know you were funny, Brett.”

  “I wasn’t being funny.”

  The barn was in much worse shape than the house, if that was even possible. The doors hung cockeyed on the hinges. Of course, it was full of musty, moldy hay and God knows how many kinds of scat from God knows how many different kinds of animals. Some of them large, judging by the size of the tracks. Brett even spotted a few coyote and cougar tracks. The big creatures were long gone since there wasn’t anything to eat in the barn.

  Each of the stalls carried its own evil gift. Some of them held broken pieces of tack, others held mildewed straw, in another a couple of carcasses of a raccoon and squirrel. Apparently there’d been a small fire at one point given that there was a gaping, charred hole in the back of the barn. The loft was a total loss. The boards were rotted and pitted, and more than likely had never been replaced.

  The whole thing looked to be as old as Martin, and perhaps it was. They certainly wouldn’t be keeping their horses in that barn anytime soon. Thankfully it was the middle of summer, and it would be a long while before winter’s fury was felt. Hopefully he had enough time and money to fix up the barn so it would be usable.

  By the time they finished, Brett was more than ready to get to town. Once he’d thought things through and come to a decision, he wanted to take action. It was time to go see Alex. However, he had one stop to make first. A stop he dreaded.

  His parents. Brett loved them dearly, but he had to let them know about the Square One. He hoped they understood his need to have his own ranch and break free from the family’s yoke, or it would be hard going without their approval.

  “I need to go over to my parents’ before I go into town. You’re welcome to come with me or you could head straight to town and I’ll meet you there.”

  Kincaid nodded. “I think I’ll just head straight to town. I don’t do well with parents,” he said with a wry grin.

  “What say I meet you in town at the saloon, look for a bartender by the name of Mike. In about three hours?”

  “Sounds good. Anything I should look out for?” Kincaid mounted his horse.

  Brett knew what he was asking. Anyone in town who would take Kincaid’s presence as an unfriendly act.

  “Just tell them you’re working for the Malloys. That should get you at least enough respect to get a whiskey or two.”

  “Okay, that’s what I’ll do then. I’ll see you in three hours.” Kincaid galloped off toward town.

  Brett spent the time on the way over to his parents’ ranch thinking about what he’d say. He spent a lot of time contemplating everything. He hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or not—but it didn’t matter. That was just how he was. It was important that he chose the right words. When he rode into the Malloy ranch, instead of feeling like coming home, for the first time in his life, he felt like a visitor. Like he’d come to call—a very strange feeling.

  Almost foreign. Maybe because he’d spent the night camping out at the Square One or maybe because he’d been gone from home for so long. He’d spent an entire month in Cheyenne helping Trevor and Adelaide. He didn’t know for certain exactly what had changed, but suddenly his home was no longer the Malloy ranch, it was someplace else. That someplace was his future.

  He rode up to the house, and his mother came out the door. Her green eyes lit with joy. Thank God somebody felt joy when they saw him. A petite woman with chestnut-colored hair, she looked small, but she was the backbone of the Malloy family.

  “Mama.”

  “Oh, cherie, it is so good to see you. I did not know you would be home. I would have made something special for dinner.”

  “It’s okay, Mama. I kind of came home unexpectedly.”

  “Where is Trevor?”

  “It’s a long story. He’ll be staying in Cheyenne. I’m sure you’ll hear the details from him.”

  She frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that. Did you and your brother have an argument?”

  “Something like that. Don’t dig, Mama, please don’t dig. Now’s not the time.”

  Brett wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about Trevor yet. He was still working through the hurt caused by their falling out.

  “Okay, but you boys, you are men now. You can’t argue like young boys anymore.”

  The boys and men conversation again. Geez. As he dismounted, his mother came to him. When his arms closed around her, she fit so neatly under his chin that his throat grew tight. The warmth from a simple mother’s hug filled him, giving him the kind of boost he needed to be able to say what he’d come to say.

  “Is Pa around?”

  “He’s in the barn. His favorite mare threw a shoe.”

  “Let’s go see him. I have something I need to tell both of you.”

  Again his mother looked at him with suspicion in her eyes. “Now that doesn’t sound good either. Did you bring home any good news? And is that a bruise under your eye?”

  He’d almost forgotten about the parting gift from Trevor. “You don’t miss anything do you?”

  “Of course not and neither do you.”

  It was true. His mother was incredibly observant, a skill she’d instilled in all her children, the ability to read people and situations, to know how to handle anything. If only he knew how to handle telling them he was leaving the ranch for good. When they stepped into the darkness of the barn, he heard the shoeing hammer ringing and the low murmur of his father’s voice as he soothed the horse.

  “Pa?”

  “Brett, that you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re back from Cheyenne. About time. Summer is always crazy. Glad to have you home, boy.”

  As Brett walked back toward his father, his stomach cramped and his throat felt dry.

  No, sir, it was definitely not going to be easy.

  His father hadn’t changed much since Brett had been a child. John Malloy was a big man, about the same size as all his sons. With dark brown hair and blue eyes, he had the hands of a man used to hard work. His grip was as steady and strong as his word. His father was a man who stood tall and proud. A tough role model to live up to.

  “I’ve got something to tell both of you. Something I should have told you a long time ago but didn’t.” He shuffled his feet and forced himself to continue. “About two years ago, I won old Martin’s ranch in a poker game.”

  “Brett, how could you take another man’s property like that?” His mother frowned.

  His father wasn’t as surprised. “Hm, I heard that. I wondered if you were planning on telling us.”

  Brett had forgotten that his father was friends with old Martin. They were just so different the way they lived their lives, it was hard to remember they were only about ten years apart in age.

  “John, you need to tell me these things. Brett, I don’t think you should—”

  “Please listen, Mama, okay?”

  She held up both hands as if to tell him to proceed.

  “With me being gone, I’ve realized that this ranch doesn’t need me.”

  Both of his parents started to protest.

  “Now hold on and listen. Th
e hands have obviously done what they needed to do to keep this ranch running. With both Trevor and me gone, well, not Trevor since he didn’t do too much—”

  “Brett, it’s not nice to pick on your brother when he’s not here to defend himself.”

  “Fine, I won’t mention Trevor again.” Brett took a deep breath. “I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a man and I have a ranch to build. A place that can be my home. A place for me. The first time in my life that I’ve ever owned anything. That was truly mine.”

  “That’s not true. We gave you many things. Love, food, a horse of your own. Brett, everything you had was always yours.” His mother looked truly hurt by his implication.

  Brett needed to make her understand. “Yes, but that all came from you and Pa. This, this is mine. I know it’s kind of odd to have won it in a poker game, especially with a pair of deuces.”

  His father laughed. “Talk about a lucky deal.”

  Brett threaded his fingers with his mother’s. “But, it’s the first thing that’s come to me that hasn’t passed through Malloy hands. I want to make it mine. I want to rebuild it and make it into a workable ranch. Something that I can be proud of. Something that you can be proud of. Do you understand? Am I making any sense?”

  “Yes, you’re making perfect sense to me. I understand.” His father nodded. “That’s how I started this place. I had nothing but your mother, and then we had Raymond. You fixing to get yourself some hands for this ranch?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got somebody to work the ranch with me.”

  “I’ll miss you, cherie.” His mother cupped his cheek. “What about a wife? You are old enough to be married and have babies of your own.”

  His heart kicked at the reminder of the one person he needed to go see. “I have someone in mind.”

  “Oh, really? Do I know her?”

  Brett didn’t want his mother interfering with his plans for Alex. The last thing he wanted was her running to town for some made-up reason just to play matchmaker. Brett wanted to win his bride on his own, not because his mother pushed Alex into it.