“Thank you. I may take you up on that.” Rose fell silent. For the next few minutes Erin focused on driving, moving to the outside lane of the freeway and watching for the exit to Blanco Springs. But she was too curious about Rose’s story to let it rest.
“I hope you won’t mind one more question,” she said. “You say your grandfather was shot by the Prescotts. Who actually shot him? Was it Ferg?”
“It was Ham Prescott, Ferg’s father.” The strain in Rose’s voice revealed the vividness of her memory. “I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. It was cold-blooded murder.”
“Was Ham arrested for it?”
“No. That’s another long story. But justice caught up with him.”
“What happened?” Erin asked.
A moment of silence passed before Rose answered. “I forget how much time passed—several weeks, maybe. Bull and Jasper had taken me in and done their best to protect me, but the night came when I was alone in the house. Ham had learned that I’d witnessed the killing. He showed up with a pistol to silence me. As he got out of his truck and walked toward the house, I grabbed my grandpa’s double-barreled shotgun from behind the door, aimed it, and pulled the trigger.”
“You killed him?” Erin stifled a gasp as the horror sank in.
“A shotgun blast to the midsection will do that to a man,” Rose said. “Ham didn’t die easy. But that’s a story for another time.”
Erin’s throat had gone dry, leaving her with no words. Her father had said Rose was tough. She was just beginning to understand how tough.
* * *
After an early supper of tamales and beans, prepared by Carmen, the ranch’s attractive, middle-aged Latina cook, Rose and Will retired to the front porch to watch the last rays of sunset fade above the caprock. From the dining room, Rose could hear the faint clatter of china and cutlery as Erin cleaned up after the meal. Will’s daughter, she sensed, was deliberately leaving them alone so they could relax and talk.
“Your daughter is lovely, Will,” Rose said, settling back in her chair.
“Being her dad has been the best thing I ever did.” Will popped the tabs on two cold cans of Dos Equis and passed one to Rose. “Tori, my wife, was only able to have one child. Bull never forgave her for not giving him grandsons. But I never minded. We had a perfect daughter.”
Rose reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry about your wife. You must miss her terribly.”
“I do. Every minute of every day. But at least I’ve got Erin. Tori and I tried to talk her into going away to college, but she wanted to stay here and learn to run the ranch. Now I’m glad she made that choice. I don’t know what I’d have done without her these past few months. And she’s going to make a first-rate rancher.”
He fished a half-empty cigarette pack out of his shirt pocket and held it out to her. Rose shook her head. “No thanks. I’ve never taken to the habit. But you have one. I won’t mind.”
He took his time, tapping out the cigarette and slipping the pack back into his pocket. His lighter flamed in the shadows.
As he smoked, Rose studied his profile in the fading light. Even as a boy, Will had reminded her of Bull. Now the resemblance was even stronger. But Will had a tender side that Bull had lacked, or at least kept buried. Now, with his wife and his best friend both gone, he was visibly suffering.
“What are you thinking?” she asked after a few moments of silence.
He exhaled, blowing a thin shaft of smoke. “I was thinking how I used to sit out here with Jasper, and the things we talked about. He was the wisest man I’ve ever known, and the best.”
“I know,” Rose said. “I miss him, too. I hope he’s off somewhere with his Sally.”
“Some men only love once,” Will said. “It was true of Jasper, and I think it must be true of me, as well.”
“Don’t count yourself out.” Rose sipped her beer, which was already getting warm. “You’re a good-looking man, and still young. Don’t be surprised when the single women in town start coming around with chicken soup and apple pie—if they aren’t doing it already.”
“It’s too soon.” Will sounded almost angry, so Rose changed the subject.
“I’m anxious to see Beau again. How soon will he be getting here?”
“Tomorrow. But don’t expect them to stay long. Beau and I . . . we didn’t exactly part on good terms.”
“And Sky? When do I finally get to meet Bull’s other son?”
“He’ll be around. I’ll introduce you.”
“What’s he like? What can you tell me about him?”