The Texan's Reward Read Online Free Page B

before. The pencil pushers who told ranchers they only needed so many
    men to run so many cattle. The weather, or terrain, or threat of range wars didn’t matter to them. All that
    mattered to Harrison’s type was that the number at the bottom of the page was written in black.

    “That why you think you’d be the right man to manage Nel ’s holdings, Number Twelve?”

    Harrison’s eyes narrowed. “That’s why I know I’m the right man, so there is no need for you to be Number
    Thirteen on her list. She won’t need another after I’ve had time to talk with her and explain what I plan to do, to
    merge her little ranches into one.” He hesitated, then added. “It’s Rand, by the way. Not Number Twelve.”

    Jacob had to give the stranger credit, once he recovered from the threat of dying, he seemed wil ing to stand up
    for his rights. Or maybe he thought he’d be safe here in the bar with twenty witnesses around. “All right, Rand,
    what about Nel ? How does she fit into your numbers?”

    Harrison shrugged. “I see the marriage as a business deal. She needs a manager and wants my last name. My
    name’s al I have left to sell. She’l give me the start I need, and I’l give her respectability. With a little luck, in ten years I’l double her holdings.”

    “And walk away?” Harrison didn’t look like the type who’d be happy in a small town.

    “No,” Harrison answered. “Not unless she wishes to end the contract. I’m giving my word, and I’ll hold to it.
    She’ll have my name for the rest of her life if that is what she wants as part of the bargain.”

    “But not your love?”

    Harrison played with his empty glass. “I don’t believe in love, sir, or witches or fairies, or the man in the moon. I
    live by facts and figures. A marriage in name only suits me fine.”

    “No love, no children?”

    “No heart to engage, none to break. I have no interest in children of my own.”

    His stare met the ranger’s. The cold gray of a winter morn colored his eyes, leaving no doubt that he meant his
    words.

    Jacob offered him another drink, but the bookkeeper refused. He wasn’t sure if Randolph Harrison wanted to
    keep his head clear or if he didn’t have the money to buy the next round, so he’d not take the offer. Either way,
    Jacob’s measure of the man rose a notch.

    They watched the crowd in silence. Typical trouble brewing for a Friday afternoon, Jacob thought. A few
    cowhands looking for excitement after a boring week of work, two gamblers looking for suckers, but most men
    just drank, hoping to watch whatever might happen. Jacob figured out a long time ago that the best nights in the
    bar always happened when he wasn’t there. Somehow in the telling the next morning everything always
    sounded grand, but in the living, it dimmed.

    He glanced around, noticing no blood sprinkled in the sawdust. Either the town was settling down, or the saloon
    owner had just completed his annual sweeping. Settling down would be his guess. There were a few trouble
    spots along the frontier line, but for the most part Jacob was seeing most of the Wild West in dime novels and
    not in real life. The Indian Wars were over, and most of the range wars were settled. Before long he’d be able to
    walk the streets without a gun strapped to his leg.

    One of the barmaids walked near their table. Her green dress, which had been washed so many times it looked
    dusty, brushed the arms of their chairs. The material lingered a moment as if hoping to be invited to stay.

    After making no progress flirting with Harrison, she moved to Jacob. It took her a while to recognize him
    beneath al the dirt and beard. “Howdy, Ranger, want some company?”

    Jacob shook his head. “Got one too many women on my mind already,” he answered, then thanked her for the
    offer. Barmaids and bartenders could be a great help, an extra set of eyes and ears when needed. Jacob guessed
    he knew a hundred barkeeps and saloon girls in little