Free Buck and the Widow Rancher (2006) by Carlton Youngblood Page A

if I could and that’s what I’m doing.’
    ‘Buck, I’m very grateful for your offer to pay the bank payment, but you won’t have to. Hugh says he’ll take care of it and I can repay him when I sell my herd.’
    Buck studied the toe of his boots for a minute and then smiled down at the woman. ‘All right. It’s your call. Now, if you’ll excuse me I think it’s time for a drink and a bath.’ Touching his hat brim toward the lady, he picked up the reins and swung back into the saddle.

CHAPTER 12
    While Buck enjoyed the luxuriously steaming-hot bath water, he had the dirt from the street beaten and shaken out of his clothes. Once again he didn’t know what to do. He had offered Matilda money to help her out of one problem and had been turned down. The rustling, at least as far as one curly wolf was concerned, was taken care of. He could, he supposed, have a talk with the man holding the gambling IOUs, but that might be a problem better left to Matilda to work out. What else could he do? Leaving the valley without feeling he’d done as the professor had asked was not an easy decision, but … what else was there?
    His black horse was ready for traveling. Riding away from the hotel and Matilda, he had gone back to the stable and the blacksmith’s shop. Someone had poured a pail of water over the smith and Buck found him sitting with his back to the tree stump that held the anvil, holding his head.
    ‘I have to say,’ Buck smiled through his words, ‘getting hit by you is not something I’d recommend to my worst enemy.’
    Calvin moved his head slowly as if he was afraid it’d break. ‘What the hell do you want?’
    ‘Why, my horse still needs shoeing. That little fight didn’t put you out of business, did it?’
    ‘You’d come back here, after doing what you did? And expect me to put shoes on your horse?’
    ‘Hey, my horse didn’t do anything to you. To tell thetruth, if it hadn’t been for that anvil, I’d be the one holding my head. You’re one tough man.’
    Staring up at the rider, the smith thought for a minute and then smiled. ‘You are not so easy yourself. Here, help me up.’ He held out a big paw of a hand. Buck swung down and pulled the man up. ‘Is your horse as mean as you said?’
    ‘He’s got a mean streak, for sure. Somehow he puts up with me, but he can get rambunctious around anyone else.’
    ‘Damn. All right, you hold him and I’ll fix his shoes.’
    Buck held the big black’s bridle and Calvin lifted first one leg and then the other, inspecting the shoes. The man was big and tough, but his hands were surprisingly gentle as he ran them down each leg.
    ‘Have to replace that one,’ he allowed, ‘a couple nails in another and you’ll be right.’ Standing and looking at Buck, he thought for a minute and then asked, ‘Is it true? Did you shoot old Juan Navarro like they say you did?’
    ‘Nope. The old man shared a cup of coffee with me and when his boy came into camp … well, I decided not to take him up on his invitation to spend the night. I rode on and made a dry camp a few miles away. Didn’t hear any shots and didn’t know there had been any until a day or so later when young Navarro came in accusing me. I liked him, the old man, I mean.’
    ‘OK, then. I’ll fit a new shoe on your horse.’
    Buck stood by the black’s head, stroking his broad forehead while Calvin sized a shoe and nailed it in place. Accepting a few coins in payment, the blacksmith nodded his thanks and without another word went back to the bellows, forcing air into the forge, building up his fire.
    With one foot in the stirrup, Buck stopped and watched a man come riding down the street toward him.
    ‘Hey, there. Where can I find Miz Randle?’ the Rocking C foreman asked pulling to a stop. ‘We got to that pen you told us about a tad late. The cattle had been moved out.’
    ‘Damn,’ Buck swore, grimacing. ‘I’ll bet it was that fool partner of the guy I shot, Lew. He probably met