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Josh was no longer even aware of who was there with him, nor did he hear anyone speaking to him. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
Shane shook his head, then left the room. He had found no answers; only a man whose mortality was being tested, it seemed.
Chapter Twenty-one
The loon sang its haunting tune in the distance as night fell, the sky a dark crimson backdrop for the flashing stars. Downcast, torn with mixed feelings about Josh, Shane unsaddled his horse and walked it to its stall. Lifting a handful of straw to his stallion's mouth, he watched him munch at it from his palm; his horse's brown, friendly eyes revealed his trust in Shane.
"If life could be like the bond between a man and his horse, no one would ever have cause to hate or mistrust again," Shane whispered, lifting his other hand to draw his fingers through his stallion's sleek, white mane. "You've been good for me. You've been dependable from that very first day I placed a saddle on your broad, strong back."
"Boss?"
A voice from behind Shane startled him. He dropped the remainder of the straw to the ground and eyed Ken warily, then took a wide stride toward him. "Have you done as instructed?" he asked. "Have you positioned men around the pasture to keep watch through the night?"
Ken avoided Shane's stare, looking down at his feet as he shuffled them nervously. "Boss . . ."
Shane placed a firm grip on Ken's shoulder. "When you speak to me, look at me," he said. "Do you understand?"
Ken raised his eyes quickly. He clamped his hands tightly behind him and met Shane's steady stare. "Not too many men were willin' to do that," he said. "They don't like what's goin' on here. They even expect some sort of Indian trouble. They know about you havin' stolen horses from an Indian chief and that you brought them here. They don't want to have any part of the Indian's revenge. They think it's already started by what's happened here."
"Chief Gray Falcon is not responsible for what's happened here," Shane growled.
"Now can you be sure?" Ken dared to argue.
Shane's eyes wavered. He dropped his hand away from Ken and went to the door to gaze down at the ground, where blood still stained the tramped earth. He did not give Ken any answers. He was beginning to doubt everyone and everything.
"Those who choose not to cooperate can come to the house and draw their wages," he said.
"Those who do cooperatewell, tell them I appreciate it."
Ken went to stand beside Shane. "Boss, those who don't like what's goin' on here have already left," he said. "They said to tell you they'd be back to collect their wages when Josh is here to pay them." He cleared his throat nervously. "Seems they don't trust your ability to give them what they've earned.''
An instant rage tore through Shane. He walked away from Ken in slow, easy strides, not wanting to show the humiliation that he was feeling. When he reached the protective walls of his house, he closed the door and leaned against it, burying his face in his hands.
He kept telling himself over and over again that he had known all along that none of this would be easy.
Dispirited, yet determined that Shane would not be alone should another disaster befall him this night, Melanie stood among her cowhands, looking authoritatively at them.
"I've gathered you together tonight to ask your assistance on a delicate matter," she said, eying each of the men separately. She smoothed her hands down the front of her fringed buckskin skirt and shifted her knee-high moccasins nervously in the tramped dirt in front of her stable. "Gossip spreads fast, so I know that you are aware of what has been happening at the Brennan farm."
She began walking from man to man. "You know that Josh has left for a while and his brother
is in charge," she continued. "Well, it seems that someone doesn't approve of Shane, so attempts have been made to encourage him to leave."
She straightened her back determinedly. "Tonight will probably be no different," she said. "I would like for you all to volunteer to help Shane, should the need arise. I would like to ask each of you to sleep with your clothes and boots on, in case I come and ask for your help at a moment's notice."
She stepped closer and let her gaze move slowly from man to man again. "Is there any among you who has a problem with my request?" she asked.
"I do, Melanie," Terrance said suddenly from behind her.
Melanie turned with a start as Terrance approached her, his eyes lit with fire. "And why should you?" she asked shallowly, anger rising inside her.
"Haven't you heard?" Terrance said, stopping to tower over her. He leaned down into her face. She recoiled, smelling the stench of whiskey on his breath. "Most of Shane's men skipped out on him early this evening. I'm not going to ask our men to go and take their places. Do you want them to go over there and be killed by some crazy lunatic who seems to stop at nothing to frighten Shane? So far it's just been cattle that's been slaughtered. Who knows? Maybe tonight it will be a man!"
He squared his shoulders. "No, Melanie, I won't allow it," Terrance said flatly. "We pay our cow-hands to fight our battles, not Shane's."
Melanie's head was spinning. She hadn't heard
about the men walking out on Shane. She had only chosen to ask her cowhands for their help in case Shane's were not enough to handle whatever problem arose.
