Free Gunpowder Tea (The Brides Of Last Chance Ranch Series) by Margaret Brownley Page B

that?”
    “She’s an old lady. There’s not much she can do, now that she’s flat on her back.”
    “I don’t see why anybody would want to do her harm.” He frowned. “If so, they’ll have to deal with me first.”
    The ringing bell brought their conversation to an end. Able glanced upward before dipping a measuring cup into a sack of flour. “You better go see what Miz Walker wants this time.”

    After taking Miss Walker her noon meal, Annie escaped to her room to add to the fast-growing file that included detailed information on each ranch hand. Most of the men went by assumed names, making background checks difficult. Identifying someone solely by physical description was tough, but the agency had successfully done it in the past and she hoped would do so again.

    Having learned from Able that the ranch hand going by the name of Ruckus was married with two children, she neatly printed the information on his file. His wife’s name was Sylvia. His daughter was married to a rancher and his son attended seminary back east. It was hardly the kind of family one would expect of an outlaw but she wasn’t ready to rule him out. He seemed sincere enough and led the others in prayer each morning before starting work, but such religious fervency could be a ruse.
    She tossed her pencil down with a sigh and closed her files. She then left her room and hid her files in a vacant bedroom two doors away, where no one would think to look. It was a trick learned from her father and one that had served her well through the years.
    Returning to her room, she checked to make certain she hadn’t left anything that could provoke suspicion. Something shiny caught her eye and she crossed to the bureau to see what it was.
    Her father’s pocket watch lay on top of the dresser next to her hairbrush. How odd. She glanced around. The timepiece hadn’t been there that morning, which meant the marshal must have dropped it off sometime between breakfast and the noontime meal.
    She picked up the watch and lifted it to her ear. The marshal even thought to wind it.
    It bothered her that the lawman appeared at the ranch house without announcing himself. Even worse, he had walked into her bedroom.
    She tucked the watch into the top drawer and hastened downstairs and out the front door. No carriage or even a horse was in sight, save the wild mustangs in the corral across the way. Some of the ranch hands had left early that morning and hadn’t been seen since.
    She walked around the house to where Able tended the vegetable garden. Several small service buildings were located in back. Theicehouse and laundry were closest to the main house, the granary and smokehouse a distance away. Next to what appeared to be an unused barn stood an old springboard wagon.
    A vegetable garden spread between the buildings, a scarecrow rising from its midst. The soil was kept moist by irrigation ditches.
    As she approached, Able looked up and tossed a bunch of carrots into a wicker basket. His freckles looked like orange polka dots in the afternoon sun. “Thought I’d make some gumbo soup,” he said. “It’s the only dish Miz Walker will eat that’s not made with beef.”
    “Sounds good,” Annie said, though it seemed too hot for soup. She watched him pull a bunch of carrots from the soil. Carrots? Already? In Chicago the ground was still frozen.
    “Did you happen to see the marshal today?”
    Able glanced up. “Marshal Morris? Nah. Is there a problem?”
    “Just wondering. I . . . was curious to know what happened to the train robbers.”
    Able shook dirt away from the carrots. “I reckon they’ll spend the rest of their born days behind bars.”
    “I’m sure you’re right.” She hesitated. “Anyone else at the house today? Other than Dr. Fairbanks, I mean.”
    “Just Ruckus and O.T. Why?”
    “No reason.” She left him and walked around to the front.
    She let herself in the house just as Miss Walker’s foreman, O.T., descended the stairs. A