Jasper tossed a shovel full of dirt out of the wide pit they were digging to hold water for the cattle. “Hell’s bells, you didn’t tell me this was going to be so much work!” he grumbled.

“We agreed that this was the best option.” Bull straightened and massaged his aching shoulder. They’d talked it over and made the decision together. Hiring the backhoe would’ve been expensive, and the noise would have attracted too much attention from the far side of the creek. The same with having a prefab tank delivered. The safest and cheapest choice had been to dig the tank and the trench for the pipe by hand—at night, when the air was cooler and the work less likely to attract attention.

They’d chosen a low spot near the edge of the old McAdoo property, upstream from the open crossing where they’d been watering the cattle. Willows would screen the spot where the three-inch PVC pipe, now in place, emerged from the bank.

After digging the shallow trench and laying the pipe at an angle to carry water downhill, they’d started on the tank, which they’d planned to line with plastic sheeting. Digging out the mesquite, hauling rocks, and breaking the drought-hardened ground had been exhausting work, even without the beating sun. Bull and Jasper had taken turns with the two young hired hands, digging by night, tending the ranch by day, and, when their strength was spent, sleeping. But now the tank was almost finished. It needed only some leveling and the plastic liner. Then it would be ready to fill with water.

“You know they’re gonna find out over there, if they haven’t already.” Jasper nodded toward the Prescott side of the creek. “Old Ham isn’t gonna like it one bit. He’ll raise hell any way he can.”

“Let him,” Bull said. ?

??What we’re doing isn’t illegal. We’ve got as much right to the water as the Prescotts have. As long as we have a witness who can pin him to the wall, Ham’s agreed not to interfere.”

“Maybe.” Jasper spat in the loose dirt. “But I wouldn’t sell the old son of a bitch short if I was you. And Rose is gettin’ anxious. She keeps askin’ me when the sheriff is gonna arrest the man who shot her grandpa. If somethin’ don’t happen soon, she’s liable to light out and go lookin’ for him herself.”

“She still doesn’t know who Ham is?”

“Nope. But she’s a sharp little cookie, and as tough as a rawhide ribbon. You can’t keep her in the dark much longer, Bull.”

They were talking in low voices. Only as they paused did Bull hear the rustle of willows from the far side of the creek. As he turned, something large crashed away in the dark, headed back toward the Prescott Ranch. Had it been a cow, a horse . . . or a man?

They waited in the silence that was broken only by the rush of the creek and the chirr of nighttime insects. Nothing. But by now they were both nervous. Bull’s pistol was in the truck. He retrieved it and tucked it under his belt. But nothing happened. They finished their night’s work and left.

* * *

The next morning, after a late breakfast, Ferg climbed into his red Thunderbird and headed for the Rimrock Ranch. He was in a good mood. Over the past weeks, he’d become impatient with his father’s refusal to turn him loose on Bull Tyler. Now, while the old man was at the Cattlemen’s Association conference in Fort Worth, and planning a three-day hunting trip at a friend’s ranch on the way home, Ferg was boss. He planned to make the most of it, starting with a visit to stir things up at the Rimrock.

As he drove he hummed a tune. Last night he’d picked up Edith a block from her father’s house, parked on the side of a quiet country lane, and had himself some rip-roaring fun in the backseat. It hadn’t taken much time for Edith to come around. The hint that he just might decide to marry her had done the trick. They’d been a regular thing for more than a month. And it didn’t hurt that she really liked sex. She’d liked it at fifteen when he’d knocked her up, and she liked it now. She even let him do it without a rubber, some nonsense about birth control being against God’s will. Ferg wasn’t worried. His father was already paying for Garn. No big deal if it happened again.

Not that he had any intention of marrying Edith. Especially not while there was a chance of getting Susan and her daddy’s cotton fields. He’d been disappointed when she’d run home to Georgia. But the woman would come around—especially if he’d managed to get her pregnant. Meanwhile, there was no reason he couldn’t have a little fun with the preacher’s daughter.

His thoughts shifted as he neared the Tyler place. One of the men had reported some nighttime digging on the property. That could mean only one thing. Someone was planning to steal the water. It was time to make Bull Tyler squirm, and Ferg planned to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

Bull wasn’t surprised to see Ferg’s red convertible pulling into the yard. He’d expected something like this after last night’s suspicious sounds from the far side of the creek. Ham had probably sent him to find out what was going on, which was reasonable. But how much did Ferg know about his father’s crime and the agreement not to interfere with the Rimrock? That remained to be seen.

Braced for anything, he came down the porch steps to greet his boyhood friend. Jasper and the boys were off with the cattle. Rose was in the kitchen. Bull was alone and unarmed, but he wasn’t worried.

“Morning, Ferg.” He crossed the yard toward the Thunderbird.

“Bull.” Ferg touched the brim of his hat and climbed out of the car. He wasn’t packing. “Nice new windmill you’ve got there.”

“Thanks. Put it up myself.”

Ferg glanced at the windmill. “Any water left down there?”

“Not much. A little for the house is about all. Hoping for rain and trying to make it last, like everybody else. What can I do for you?”

Ferg’s stance widened, as if bracing for a fight. “You can start with an explanation. We’ve seen that hole on your side of the creek. We’re guessing you want to run water into it.”

“That’s right. It’ll water more cattle at one time, and we won’t have to worry so much about them crossing the creek to your side. Better for everybody.”

“But you’re taking water out of the creek. That’s stealing.”

“No more stealing than what goes into the cows. We’ve got as much right to that water as you do. And we’ll only be diverting enough to fill the tank. Your ranch won’t even miss it.”

“But you’re upstream from us. What’s to stop you from blocking the stream and diverting all the water for yourselves?”

Tags: Janet Dailey The Tylers of Texas Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net