Brogan: Cowboy Pride: The Kavanagh Brothers Book Three

  Brogan: Cowboy Pride

  The Kavanagh Brothers Book Three

  Kathleen Ball

  Copyright © 2020 by Kathleen Ball

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  I dedicate Brogan: Cowboy Risk to my incredible, sweet, strong editor Kay Springsteen. Her indomitable spirit is an example to us all.

  As always I dedicate this book to Bruce, Steven, Colt, Clara and Mavis because I love them.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

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  Sullivan: Cowboy Protector

  Teagan: Cowboy Strong

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  Chapter One

  Brogan hurled his black hat onto the lush grass pasture. His horses were missing, not all but enough. The income from those horses was crucial to survive the winter. He stared at his dun, Prince. “Mind telling me where your friends went?”

  The horse stared back and one of his ears twitched.

  Grumbling, Brogan stalked across the grass and snatched up his hat. After a last look around, he jammed it on his head. Without those horses he wouldn’t be able to feed the horses he planned to keep. A catastrophe this was, a foul catastrophe. He mounted up and turned Prince toward the far corner of the property.

  He had to find those horses at all costs. Even if it meant his life. He’d rather starve than go back home with his hat in hand. Never would he step foot on the Kavanagh land again. His gut clenched. He had tried and struggled to push all thoughts of his brothers and the ranch away. Keeping busy helped, barely.

  He spurred Prince on but suddenly pulled the reins hard to stop short as he stared at the open field in front of him. “Sorry, Prince.” He wrinkled his brow, glowering at the covered wagon on his property. Property that had been enclosed with a fence that should have warned strangers to stay out. Anger coursed through his body with great velocity. He was tired of people taking what was his.

  He lifted his rifle out of the saddle scabboard and lay it across his lap as he slowly approached the camp. The aromas of smoke and coffee with a hint of bacon hung in the air. These folks were eating better than he. No time for cooking in his busy life.

  He expected to see a few people, but the camp was silent. Did they have a gun beaded on him as he approached? He flicked his gaze to the side. They had damaged a good portion of his fence. Someone would have to pay. The urge to punch that someone mushroomed.

  “Hello, the camp!” he hollered. Where were the thieves? Were they yellow-bellied cowards? He squinted against the sun, spotting movement near the broken fence. Was that a girl hand feeding one of his horses’ grass? What the heck was going on?

  “I’m coming in, and I have my rifle cocked!”

  The wagon moved slightly. Someone was in there.

  “Wait! Don’t shoot!” a female voice called. Then, “Orla, where are you?” She sounded exasperated.

  The woman quickly clambered out of the wagon. She didn’t have a gun in her hands, but she might have one tucked in her skirt somewhere. Brogan kept his rifle pointed at her. Her big blue eyes grew even larger as her ebony hair blew in the slight breeze.

  “Can I help you?” She clasped her shaking hands.

  Frowning in confusion, Brogan scanned the camp. Where was her husband? She appeared too small and frightened to drive a covered wagon without one.

  “For starters, you can tell me why in the name of heaven you would take down my fence and let my horses loose.” He pushed his hat back on his head. “Then I want to hear how you think you have the right to squat on this land.” He narrowed his eyes. He wanted the truth the first time. It would be a nice change.

  “What did you do with my sister? If you’ve harmed her…” With jerking, anxious movements, she scanned the area, darting quick looks from one end of the field to the other.

  “I think that’s her over there hand-feeding my horses,” he snapped, as he pointed.

  The woman put her hand over her mouth as her shoulders sagged and she released a sigh. She turned and stared at her sister. “Orla won’t harm them.” She returned her focus to Brogan. “My name is Ciara Doyle. The fence was already down, and it seemed safer to camp here rather than the wilds of Texas.”

  Wilds of Texas? “You’ll have to move along. Don’t think for a minute I believe you about the fence. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have horses to find.” He clenched his hands around his rifle and gave her a hard glare before he placed the rifle back in the scabbard. Brogan started to turn Prince but stopped. “Where’s your husband?” He was still in the mood to punch someone.

  “We don’t have husbands,” Ciara stated.

  He fixed his gaze on her. “I’m to believe it’s just you and your sister? Lady, I’ve been lied to by the best so don’t bother. What’s really going on here?”

  Her chin quivered and she darted a glance at him before she began to shuffle her feet. “We were traveling with our parents, and now it’s just me and my sister. We couldn’t go on because the wagon train was too far ahead of us, so I turned around, and somehow… I ended up in Texas. I know it sounds like a tall tale, but I always go the wrong way. I have no sense of direction. I knew we were off course, so I decided since I always go the wrong way, I would go the other way instead, but that didn’t help either. Pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to cross that river about six days ago. I thought the west is on my left side and east was on my right no matter where I stood.” Crimson seeped into her cheeks. “I have since realized I need to be facing north for that to work.” When she looked at his face she winced.

  He almost wanted to laugh, but he maintained the frown on his face. Who in the world would think everything left was west? It surprised him she didn’t end up going in huge circles. It was crazy enough to be the truth, but that didn’t make up for the fact that she was on his land.

  “Where are you going from here? And since you didn’t mean to go to Texas, where were you going in the first place?”

  Orla walked over and took her sister’s hand and gave him a childlike stare. She had the same blue eyes as her sister, but her hair was a golden blond.

  “Is something wrong? You don’t seem very happy, mister. I found a place that has some pretty flowers. Would you like me to show you?” She looked at him expectantly.

  “Yes, there are lots of pretty flowers around,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even. “But I don’t have time for you to show me right now.”

  Orla tilted her head and her shoulders slumped. “Ciara is always too busy too. You have very nice horses. They come to visit every day. I like talking to them.”

  “You’re joking, right?” As soon as he saw fear in her eyes, he was sorry. “What I meant to say was how many do you feed and where do y
ou feed them? That, I have time to see, if you’d like to show me?”

  Brogan glanced toward Ciara and watched as she smiled at Orla and put her arm around her shoulder.

  “I think we should just leave. I can see we’ve made you angry, and we don’t want to trouble you. I’m sorry as can be about being on your land. But the fence was already down, and we didn’t see any horses until that first evening. Orla talked to the horses, and the next thing we knew we were getting daily visits from horses which I assume are yours. If you wait here for a bit, I’m sure they’ll come to you. Orla, you must pack up now.”

  Orla narrowed her eyes and gave him a big frown. “We have to go because of you, don’t we? This is the best place we’ve been in a long, long, long time. We try and try to find safe places to sleep at night, and it’s difficult. I point to a spot and Ciara will shake her head and say no. Then we have to ride in the wagon for a long time before she says yes. She wants to go back to St. Louis, and she’ll find work.” She tipped her head back and studied him. “Mister do you have any jobs?”

  Ciara gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, we aren’t asking you for jobs. We’re capable of taking care of ourselves. Maybe you could just point me in the right direction. It shouldn’t take long for us to pack up, and again I’m sorry.”

  He wasn’t sure what was wrong with Orla, but she acted much younger than she was. She was sweet, and Ciara seemed decent enough, just wary, and weary. It was a long way to St. Louis, and they didn’t have jobs lined up. They were bound to get themselves into a whole lotta trouble. But he couldn’t offer them a place to stay. He just wanted to be alone. He refused to trust another person again. It wasn’t like they were his responsibility…

  He watched for a moment while Ciara started putting everything back into the wagon. She moved efficiently but some of the crates sitting outside seemed heavy. With a sigh, he swung down off Prince and began to help her. Their lack of supplies stunned him. What were they thinking? They wouldn’t even make it out of the state of Texas. Sending them on might send them to their deaths. Panic set in; he didn’t want anyone to rely on him. He could help them without getting involved. It should be easy enough. He’d take them to town and someone else could take care of them.

  He whipped his head around at the sound of pounding hooves. Stepping away from the wagon his mouth fell slack in astonishment. From what he could tell, his whole herd was coming toward them. He’d never seen the like, and for a moment he didn’t think they would stop. He raced toward Orla, ready to scoop her up and deposit her in the wagon but before he had a chance, the horses thundered to a halt in a cloud of dust.

  But the horses didn’t come up to him. They all waited for Orla to pat them on their noses. She’d somehow stolen his horses! They used to surround him like that, but now he was being ignored. Oh, the disloyalty of these horses… But the way Orla’s laugh tinkled, calmed his jealousy. He’d never seen anyone so happy before, and it amazed him. What was it like to have a carefree moment to laugh in delight?

  Brogan quietly walked to Ciara’s side. “She sure has a way with horses. It’s almost magical to watch. Has she always been that way?”

  She gave him a rueful smile. “She was thrown from a horse when she was fourteen, and she has forever remained fourteen. Sometimes it’s hard to look at her and know she’s older than that. I expect she’ll be living with me for the rest of our lives. Good thing I like her.” She chuckled softly, and the sound washed over him, making him tingle as he lost himself in her blue eyes.

  “Why don’t I hitch your horses to your wagon and have you follow me to the house?” he found himself suggesting. “I bet the two of you could use a rest from the grueling traveling. I understand if you don’t trust me. I trust no one either. But I believe your story, and truthfully you don’t have enough food to get much farther in your travels.”

  She looked pensive for a few minutes and then nodded. “Are you offering us jobs? We don’t take charity. We work for what we have.”

  “There’s always too much to do on a ranch, and I’m doing it on my own. So, any help would be welcome.”

  “All right, I accept.” A smile broke over her face. “And thank you. We’ll stay in the wagon. As soon as we’ve worked enough for the supplies we need, we’ll get back on the trail.” Her lips pulled into a pout. “I would’ve been back in St. Louis if there was a trail to follow.”

  He almost laughed, but he reined it in before it happened. Food; she probably cooked and cooked well. At least that was his hope. “I think we should set up a few ground rules. I’m off limits. I like being alone and I dislike chatter. That doesn’t mean that you must avoid me. I’m just warning you I might avoid you. You need to know it has nothing to do with you.”

  Her smile returned. “We can respect your privacy. I’d best go tell Orla or I’ll never get her away from the horses.”

  Chapter Two

  The house surprised her. It looked fairly new, but the barn seemed to have weathered many years. There wasn’t much growing near the house, and somehow that made it look lonely. She pulled the wagon around to the back and stopped. It seemed like a good spot. There were oak trees that could provide them with shade and keep the scorching sun away.

  “I can’t believe we’re living here. Ciara, I just love this house. Do you think I can have a room of my own?”

  Ciara smiled at her sister. “We’ll be staying in the wagon for a little while. Remember how we talked about being able to trust somebody and to never be alone with any man?” She waited for Orla to nod. “Brogan lives here alone. He seems very nice, but we don’t know him. I’m sure as the days go by, we will find out if we can trust him or not. So, I’ll say it again. I don’t want you to be alone with him. If he tries to kiss you or touch you, I want you to let me know right away. I love you, Orla.”

  Orla gave her a warm smile before she hugged her. “I know the rules to be safe. I love you too, Ciara. Do you think I could go into the barn to see more horses?”

  “We have to remember that this is Brogan’s ranch. If we want to do anything, we need to get his permission.”

  “You mean he’s gonna be like our dad?”

  Ciara’s lips twitched, and she couldn’t help but laugh when Brogan came out of the back door of his house. He looked to be at a loss for words and she took pity on him and stopped laughing.

  “No, not like our dad. It’s just always polite to ask first.”

  Orla mumbled as she shook her head, “Not allowed to do anything ever.”

  Ciara exchanged an amused glance with Brogan.

  “I’m sure you will find plenty to do around here that will make you happy.” Ciara grew serious. She would have to tell Brogan about the rule of not being alone with Orla. She understood, but she didn’t understand at the same time and all it would take would be one slick cowboy to ruin Orla.

  “Can I go to the barn?” Orla asked eagerly.

  “Sure, you want me to take you down there?” Brogan asked.

  “I have to go alone.” Orla started making her way toward the barn.

  His brow furrowed as he stared at Ciara. She felt the heat of his gaze as she watched Orla walking. She might as well tell him the rules.

  “Orla’s not allowed to be alone with any man. She looks like a woman, and a man would think she was a woman, but she’s still a girl. I’m afraid for her. I’m afraid someone will take advantage of her so I’ve made the rule that she can’t be alone with any man. I know it might seem strange to you, but it’s the only way I know to protect my sister.”

  Brogan nodded. “I understand. It’s a good rule. There are too many people out there who will take advantage of others. And it’s amazing how many people lie. I’ll try to keep the rule in mind…” He sighed. “But it’s not the biggest ranch.”

  “That was easier than I thought. Usually a man would say ‘my ranch my rules.’ You’re different from others.” She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “I’m not exactly sure how, but you are. I
n a good way.” Her face flushed hot. She was babbling on like an empty-headed girl. “I’d be happy to make dinner if you’d show me the kitchen. Please let me know if I or Orla overstep boundaries you may have. It’s difficult to get along with people you don’t know. I just don’t want us to be in the way. Oh, and one more thing, feel free to tell us to leave. I don’t know if I’ll be working here for a night or a week, but if you’ve had your fill, just let me know.”

  His eyes widened as he looked her up and down as though taking her measure. “A straight shooter. I like that. Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

  He led her through the back door and into the kitchen. The wooden floors weren’t even marked up. The counters didn’t have familiar knife marks, and the stove was one of the newer ones with the hot water reserve in the back. It was so clean she wondered if it had been used before. The shelves were loaded with dinnerware that didn’t fit him at all. They were far from the tin plates she and her family had always used. But the yellow flowers on the plates were cheerful.

  She walked over to the sink and was thrilled to see the indoor water pump. She had heard of them, but she’d never used one. “Do you have a root cellar?”

  Brogan pointed to the floor. “It’s right under there but it’s empty. I have most of the food supplies stored over here.” He walked to the closet, turned the knob and opened the door.

  She’d seen nothing like it; a place for everything. It was a big closet, and she stood inside marveling at the selection of supplies he had. More heat rose into her face, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “I shoved you out of the way, didn’t I? My ma taught me to be a lady, and I’m sorry I pushed you.”