Hernando Heat, Page 2

  * * * *

  Katie awoke at dawn, as she usually did. After lighting her oil lamp and firing up the stove on the small back-porch kitchen, she put on a kettle of water to boil for her morning tea. She had three dresses to finish hemming today for Mrs. Palmer’s daughter’s trousseau. The girl would be leaving for her honeymoon after her wedding next weekend. Not to mention Mr. Greenville, who ran the dry goods store, said his latest shipment of fabric should arrive today. She had specially ordered several bolts for herself to complete some pending orders, and he’d assured her she could have first pick of the others as well.

  She performed her morning ablution and dressed while she waited for the kettle to boil. As every morning, she stood in front of her husband’s picture. “Good morning, Paul. Going to be another warm one today.” While several women friends had hinted they could introduce her to single male relatives, she shunned that kind of contact despite her loneliness and longing.

  She’d had the best husband in the world. How could any man compare? Not to mention the men who’d approached her, or who had been volunteered to her as available, weren’t exactly…handsome.

  Most mangy cow dogs had better looks.

  She sat at her tiny table, sipping her tea and eating a leftover biscuit from the previous night’s dinner when a loud knock on her front door startled her.

  Who could that be? Her hours were clearly posted on a neatly lettered sign beside the door, and a check of the mantle clock showed she still had thirty minutes before opening. Peeking through the curtain separating her bedroom from the rest of her store, she spotted a familiar foe trying to peer inside.

  Blast that man!

  She grabbed her shotgun, which she kept loaded with rock salt, and stormed to the front door. When she threw it open, the senior Dorchester looked startled before his expression turned calculating.

  “Good morning, Katherine.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to talk. This is silly, for you to be living over here by yourself. You should be home in Dade City, with family.”

  She hefted the shotgun, blocking him when he attempted to step inside. “You are not my family, Mr. Dorchester. Now get out of here.”

  His face darkened, and she once again glimpsed the evil she suspected lived inside him. “I have someone interested in buying that property. It’s time for you to stop this foolishness so I can sell it.”

  “What happened to wanting to keep it in the family?” she sarcastically asked. “That property belonged to my husband. He willed it to me. My attorney said it was legal and proper. I will do what I choose with that property, and for now, I choose not to sell it.”

  She didn’t take her gaze off his face, but out of the corner of her eye she spotted Deputy Carlisle riding up.

  Taking a step forward, she forced Dorchester out of the doorway and onto the front porch where Carlisle hopefully couldn’t miss what was happening.

  “You will regret crossing me, Katherine.”

  “That’s Missus Dorchester to you, sir.”

  Deputy Carlisle did, in fact, spot the confrontation, because he spurred his horse faster until he slid to a stop in front of her store, kicking up a cloud of dust in his wake. He leapt off his mount and ran up to the porch, his hand on the butt of his revolver.

  “What’s going on here? What’s wrong, Miz Dorchester? This man bothering you?”

  Dorchester Senior didn’t say anything at first, just shot her a murderous glare. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m leaving.” He jabbed a pudgy finger at her. “But don’t think we’re through, Katherine.” He turned, stormed off the porch, climbed into his buggy, and snapped the team’s reins.

  Once he turned the corner out of her sight, the tremors hit. It wasn’t until she felt Deputy Carlisle’s gentle hands on hers, taking the shotgun from her, that she realized she was also crying.

  “Miz Dorchester?” His voice sounded kind and gentle. “Let’s get you inside and you tell me what’s going on.”

  She nodded and let him escort her into the back room, where her knees gave out and she heavily sat at the table.

  He knelt in front of her. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Who was that man? Did he threaten you?”

  A ragged laugh escaped her. “He’s my former father-in-law. A greedy son of a buck who thinks he can get his way by threats and bullying.”

  * * * *

  Joe’s stable boy had Mason’s horse saddled and waiting at the hitching post outside the front porch. Mason jammed the three shirts, as well as a pair of trousers he’d forgotten needed the seat mended, into a saddlebag. The twenty-minute ride into Brooksville was, as usual, uneventful. As the sun rose in a hazy blue May sky, indicating the high pressure system sitting over the top of their area, he knew it meant another scorcher. The rainy season should start soon, bringing momentary afternoon relief from the heat every day even though it also meant a return of the horribly muggy afternoons.

  Then he rounded the corner.

  When he spotted Widow Dorchester standing there outside her shop and holding a man at bay with her shotgun, he urged his horse forward at full gallop. He didn’t know her very well, but he and the other deputies tried to keep an eye out for her as much as they could, as did the volunteer fire brigade members when they were at the firehouse.

  After the man left and Mason got her inside, she told him the story. He fought the urge to hop on his horse and go after the man and teach him a thing or two about manners. He knew of Widow Dorchester’s story from around town, but had never had an up close conversation with her before since he didn’t often work on this side of Brooksville. “Has he been bothering you, ma’am?”

  “Not lately. But now that he’s back I’m guessing his threats will resume. He said he wants to sell the property. It’s not his to sell, it’s mine! My lawyer said so!” She blew her nose in a handkerchief and despite the circumstances, he realized for the first time how cute the strawberry blonde was. Definitely feisty. Dorchester had a good foot in height on her, and she’d stood tall against him.

  She looked at him. “Thank you for coming along when you did,” she said. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Can I make you a cup of tea or something?”

  “No, ma’am, that’s all right. Actually, I was on my way here.” He explained his mending problem.

  She smiled, but it looked sad and careworn. “Please, bring them in. I’ll do them for you right now.”

  “I don’t mind leaving them.”

  “Nonsense.” She stood and smoothed her skirts. “After the grief you’ve saved me this morning, it’s the least I can do. Won’t take me long at all. Truth be told, my nerves are still a little rattled. I wouldn’t mind the company for a while longer.”

  He retrieved the items from his saddlebag as she opened her shop. He sat and watched her as she found matching buttons for the missing ones and quickly sewed them on. Her hazel eyes keenly focused on her work, yet she easily talked with him while her needle rose and fell.

  She smiled at him over the ripped seam in his trousers as she poked her hand through it and wiggled her fingers. “I hope you weren’t bending over in front of any ladies when this happened.”

  He laughed. “Nope. Just my cousin. Believe me, Joe teased me something fierce about it.”

  He loved her smile. From the worry lines around her eyes and on her forehead, he suspected she didn’t smile very much. “I’m sure he did, Deputy.”

  “Please, call me Mason.”

  Did he imagine she blushed a little? “All right, Mason.”

  “May I be forward, ma’am?”

  She blushed a little more. Could she look anymore beautiful if she tried? “Forward, Mason? And please, call me Katie.”

  He took a risk. “Katie, would you allow me to take you to the dinner at the Methodist church tomorrow night?”

  * * * *

  Her first instinct was to say no. The word caught and hung on the tip of her tongue. Then she spotted the unmistakable hope in his s
weet brown eyes. How had she missed his good looks before? Then again, she’d never had much contact with him before, despite hearing many local women talk about his charming ways and handsome features.

  She took a deep breath. “I would be honored to accompany you to the dinner.” Considering it was only across the street, and she’d been planning on going anyway, what harm could come from that? If she had the handsome deputy on her arm, it would help ward off the unwelcomed advances from single men—or their well-intentioned relatives—that invariably occurred at the local shindigs.

  He smiled, turning his hard face even more handsome. She knew he and his cousin, Joseph Lansing, lived just outside of Brooksville. Two confirmed bachelors, according to the young single townswomen who’d unsuccessfully attempted to claim either of them. Plenty of times she’d overheard gossip from one girl or another who’d plotted strategy to become Mrs. Joseph Lansing, wife of a successful cattle rancher and business owner. But Mason’s cousin proved as tenaciously single as he was.

  “I’ll call for you around six, if that’s all right?”

  “That would be fine.” She finished mending the seam, tested it, and neatly folded the trousers to add them to the pile of clothes. “There. All done.”

  He stood. “How much do I owe you?”

  She waved him off. “Nothing. Consider it thanks for helping my morning go from horrible to very nice indeed.” Truth be told, that’s exactly what he’d done. From her earlier melancholy, then the shock of dealing with Dorchester, and now nearly an hour of pleasant conversation that made her feel…almost normal.

  More normal than she had in a year. He smiled again. She’d heard he was a tough but fair man who didn’t brook nonsense from people.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t officially meet under better circumstances, Katie. I’ll make it a point to drop by regularly from now on. To check on you. Especially today. If he shows up again, I want you to send for me immediately and I’ll take care of it. Personally.”

  Her heart fluttered at his protective tone. It reminded her so much of…

  No. Not today. She’d had a taste of normality and didn’t want to sink back into her grief. “All right. Thank you so much.”

  He extended his hand, and she thought he would shake with her, but he kissed the back of her hand. “Then I’ll see you later, Katie.”

  She blushed. As her heart sped from fluttering to a full-out gallop, she realized she didn’t mind the sensation in the least.

  It was the best feeling she’d had since losing Paul.

  Chapter Three

  Mason kept an eye out all day for any sign of Dorchester returning to harass Katie, but didn’t spot him. He also passed the word with Sheriff Birch and the other deputies. All the men, who felt outrage on her behalf, agreed that the Dorchesters Senior or Junior wouldn’t be welcomed in town any time soon. Mason also talked to local business owners, who all agreed to keep their eyes open. Katie Dorchester was a quiet woman who wasn’t unfriendly, but other than going to local functions, she mostly kept to herself. Still, everyone who knew her liked the sweet woman.

  He stopped by her shop again later that afternoon as he rode out to check a report of chicken rustling at a farm south of town.

  Her smile as he entered her shop touched something deep inside him. She sat on a low stool, pinning up a dress hem. The owner of the dress, Sissy Baxter, stood on a table and held still while talking to her mother, Mary Baxter, who sat in a nearby chair and looked on.

  “Good afternoon, Deputy Carlisle,” Katie said. The other two women couldn’t see her playful wink.

  He tipped his hat and smiled in return. “Good afternoon, Miz Dorchester, ladies. I just wanted to stop by and make sure everything was all right. See how you were getting along.” He also knew, from what he’d heard around town, that Katie was a rather private person. The details of the morning’s showdown were no doubt already making their rounds based on his warnings to others to keep their eyes open, but he didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of her customers.

  Especially the gossipy Baxter women.

  Katie sat up, placing her hands on her back as she straightened and stretched. “Everything’s quiet. Did my mending hold up? No more uncomfortable drafts?” she teased.

  His grin widened. She was a sharp, quick-witted woman. “Good as new, thank you, ma’am.” He tipped his hat again. “I’ll make sure to spread the word about your shop and your good work,” he promised. “Good day, ladies.” As he left the shop, he heard Sissy Baxter asking Katie about him.

  Suppressing a chuckle, he had a feeling maybe he’d finally found someone he wouldn’t mind losing his heart to.

  * * * *

  It was Mason’s turn to cook dinner that night. For once he didn’t mind the task, his thoughts constantly wandering to Katie’s sad eyes and beautiful smile while he cooked. When Joe returned to the house a little before sunset, Mason had dinner waiting. “Don’t expect me for dinner tomorrow night,” he told Joe. “I’m taking Miz Dorchester to the church supper.”

  “Widow Dorchester? Really?” He smiled. “I don’t know her. She’s a handsome woman, from what little I’ve seen of her.”

  “Cute is the term I’d use.”

  “I was trying to be a gentleman, Mase. Not that you would know anything about that.” Joe smiled at him over his cup. Mason-baiting was one of his favorite sports.

  “Yeah, well, you ought to come, too, so you can see how much of a gentleman I am.” Mason regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

  “You know what? I think I will,” Joe said. “That’s an excellent idea. Maybe I can warn the poor woman about you. How’d you end up talking to her, anyway?”

  Mason explained the morning’s confrontation. He didn’t like the frown that emerged on Joe’s face. “What?”

  Joe put down his cup. “Dorchester is bad news, cuz. Haven’t you heard of him?”

  “I’ve heard of him, but not much about him. Why?”

  “Well, maybe you haven’t heard much because he usually buys his way out of trouble with the Dade City sheriff. He usually stays away from Brooksville. None of the ranchers in the area like him. He and his brothers were into rustling back in the day. Free-range courtesies were low on their list of priorities. If you were missing cattle, chances were you could find them ‘accidentally’ wandering amongst Dorchester herds, if they were anywhere in close proximity. They didn’t make it a priority to send the cattle back to their rightful owners, either.”

  Mason didn’t like the sound of that. “I have a feeling he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”

  Joe nodded. “It also wouldn’t surprise me if she suddenly died of an unfortunate accident.”

  “What?”

  Joe leaned back. “You were down in Tampa when this happened about ten years ago, but there was a rancher, Kendall Eddings, over in Lacoochee. Dorchester wanted his land and insisted Eddings sell it to him. Wasn’t a big spread, maybe a fifty acres or so, but one of the spring-fed tributaries of the Withlachooche River runs through it. Water in it even in the middle of a drought. That’s what Dorchester wanted more than anything, because his land butted up against Eddings’ spread.”

  “What happened?”

  “He didn’t come home one night. His wife sent for help, and searchers found him the next morning out in the woods. Best guess is his horse spooked and ran him under a low branch. Broke his neck. They found him sprawled on the ground.”

  “But?”

  Joe’s face darkened. “The first guy there said there were boot marks and other hoof prints all over the place. Like maybe he had a little help falling off and breaking his neck. His widow sold out to Dorchester the next week and moved to Orlando.”

  Mason hated men who intimidated women. He hated bullies even more. Worse, he despised rich men who flouted their money and thought the rules did not and should not apply to them. “Then maybe you should come with me tomorrow night,” he softly said.

  “I
was just teasing you about that. I didn’t mean it.”

  Mason, back in deputy mode, shook his head. “I want you to tell her that story yourself, if she doesn’t know it already. I also want you to make her an offer.”

  “An offer? What kind of offer?”

  “I want you to pay her to come to work for you, here at the ranch. We were just talking about it this morning, weren’t we? A housekeeper? It’d be nice to have a woman around here.”

  “She’s not going to want to come work for me. She’s got a business.”

  “I’m talking cooking and cleaning and that’s all, not farm chores. There’s not that much to do, let’s be honest. You pay people to do everything else. We’ll give her room and board and I can take her in to town every morning to her shop when I make my rounds, and bring her home every night. Ask her to clean in her spare time. I don’t like the idea of her living there by herself.”

  “She’s safe in town. There’s a bunch of houses within screaming distance of her place.”

  “I still don’t like it.” The fact that he felt so protective of her already was just another sign his heart had decided on the cute strawberry blonde with the sad face. He didn’t care she was a widow, either. “I don’t like that he’s sniffing around her place.”

  “You said she’s got a gun. She can protect herself.”

  “She shouldn’t have to.” He stood and took his dishes to the sink where he pumped water to wash them. “No woman should have to spend her life looking over her shoulder like that.”

  * * * *

  Joe quit objecting as he spotted the firm set of Mason’s shoulders and the tense angle of his jaw. He knew why Mason felt the way he did, even if Mason didn’t want to outright admit it. When Mason’s younger sister had refused a wealthy, spoiled suitor used to getting whatever he wanted, the man had gotten drunk and come back the next night with a pistol and shot her before shooting himself. The scandal rocked Tampa when it happened six years earlier, and was the reason Mason left for Brooksville. With Mason’s parents dead and his only sibling murdered, Joe had asked Mason to come live with him.