Page 30 of The Forever Cowboy (Noble Ranch #1)

Sterling’s pulse thundered with dread, and he couldn’t get his feet to work fast enough to carry him down the stairs.

“Violet!” Fear strangled his voice. “No, Violet!”

He was too late to keep her from going outside, but he had to prevent her from doing something foolish, like handing herself over to Claude’s men in exchange for her father.

From midway down the stairs, he could see Beckett had already moved from the parlor to the front door.

“Get them back inside,” Sterling roared as Beckett lunged outside. “Get them in now!”

Sterling stumbled down the last of the steps, and as he raced to the door, Beckett backed inside with Hyacinth struggling in his arms.

“Let go of me, you oaf!” Her eyes flashed murder at Beckett. “I’m not leaving Violet out there by herself.”

Sterling pushed past the two, only one thought filling his head. He had to get to Violet. That was all that mattered.

Violet had crossed the porch to the front step as if she had every intention of walking over and taking her father’s place.

He bounded after her. “Violet, stop!”

A gunshot rang out, and an instant later, a bullet whizzed past him.

It was far enough away that whoever had fired it had likely done so as a warning, perhaps to stop him.

The men might be willing to hang Violet’s father, but they wouldn’t dare kill Sterling.

They’d never get away with it, and they obviously knew it.

Warning or not, he didn’t halt until he reached Violet. He threw himself in front of her, shoving her behind his body. “No!” The word ripped from him and contained all the anguish that had been racing through him since the moment he’d realized she’d gone outside.

Thankfully, she was more compliant than Hyacinth and didn’t try to break free from his grip on her.

His breathing was labored, and his heart pounded against his ribs. But he took a deep breath because he had Violet in a safe place, and he didn’t plan to let her go.

At the same time, he knew he couldn’t let Mr. Berkley die, especially with Violet and Hyacinth watching. Her father deserved the consequences for gambling away his family’s money and safety. But he didn’t deserve to hang for it.

With one hand pinning Violet behind him, he aimed his gun toward the man holding Mr. Berkley. He was a giant of a man with a red face that had a wide scar across one cheek. He held himself with an authority that marked him as the leader. “Tell your men not to shoot again.”

In the distance by the barns, several of Sterling’s ranch hands had their guns trained upon Claude’s men, who were spread out and had taken cover behind other outbuildings, feeding troughs, and watering barrels.

It was clear the men had come with the intention of fighting, and Sterling didn’t want to chance any bullets coming anywhere near Violet.

“If you want a stand-down,” the big fellow responded, “then hand over the women.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Then you leave us with no choice but to bring about justice for this man’s swindling.”

Violet shifted, her head poking out from behind Sterling. “Could my father work off his debt at the saloon?”

Sterling pushed her back out of sight. She was raising a valid question, but he doubted Claude, or any saloon owner, would be willing to set a precedent of hiring the men who racked up debt with them.

On the other hand…

Sterling’s mind sped with a new possibility. “How much money does Mr. Berkley owe the Red Cap?”

Claude’s henchman shook Mr. Berkley. “Tell everyone what you owe Claude.”

Shoulders slumped and head bent, Violet’s father didn’t look up.

“Tell them.” The fellow’s voice rose with anger.

Violet’s dad mumbled something.

“Louder.” Claude’s man slapped Mr. Berkley across the head.

“Two thousand dollars.” This time Mr. Berkley’s voice was clear but also filled with self-loathing.

Behind him, Violet released a breath that contained her defeat. Two thousand was more than an average man made in a year by far. In fact, it would take most ranch hands five years to earn that amount.

But Sterling had close to that amount—the money he’d earned and saved for years. When he’d been engaged to Violet, he’d planned to use it to build their house as well as purchase all the furnishings they would need for every room.

The problem was that he didn’t have exactly two thousand. He was short by a few hundred.

He turned his sights to the herd grazing on the bales of alfalfa the ranch hands had fed them this morning. He could sell off some of the steers to make up the difference.

But with the blackleg that had run through his herd, he’d already lost too many.

While he was beginning to feel confident that the vaccination Thatcher had administered would stop the spread to more livestock, Sterling wasn’t entirely sure yet.

In addition, he still had the rest of the winter to get through, with the usual losses that came when cattle got sick, got lost, or froze to death.

Already, his dad would be disappointed to learn of the problems. If Sterling sold some off and depleted the herd further, Dad would be really upset, would maybe even give the ranch administration job to one of his other sons—probably Coleman, who had always been the favorite.

Exactly how many cattle would it take to make up the difference with the two thousand dollars?

Sterling swiftly began calculating. Their newest breed was going for a premium price because the Durham provided a better cut of meat.

If he could get twenty dollars a head, he would need to sell at least a dozen, if not more.

He would probably find a market for the beef up in Leadville.

But getting the steers all the way up to the high mountain town would be difficult with the recent snow.

Sterling could feel all eyes upon him—his ranch hands’ as well as Claude’s men’s. Even Violet and Hyacinth and Beckett were watching him. They were waiting for him to come up with a solution.

Dad would likely remind Sterling that if he’d gone to school and bettered himself, he would have had more skills and a greater ability to handle problems and issues that arose.

Sterling’s muscles tightened. It was too late to compare himself to his brothers. And he didn’t have time at the moment to worry about his dad getting angry. No, he had to act quickly if he wanted to save Mr. Berkley.

“Release Mr. Berkley to me,” Sterling said as his mind continued to scramble to formulate a plan.

Behind him, Violet grew motionless.

The fellow holding Violet’s dad released a scoff. “And why would I do that?”

“He’ll work off his debt to me for the next five years as a ranch hand.”

“Claude won’t wait five years for Marvin to pay off his debt in slow increments.”

“He won’t need to wait five years.”

The henchman shook his head. “Claude won’t wait even a year. He knows fellows like this head right back to the gambling table the minute they get a penny.”

“He won’t get a penny.” Sterling spoke firmly. “All he’ll get is room and board. His earnings will go right to me.”

Claude’s man finally raised his brow.

“To pay me back.”

Violet gasped and started to struggle against his hold. “No, Sterling.”

“Yes.” He strained to keep her behind him. “I’ll give Claude the two thousand dollars, and then Mr. Berkley will work for me until he clears his debt.”

Violet’s father raised his head and peered at Sterling through his bruised and swollen eyes.

“Will you agree to the plan, Mr. Berkley?” Sterling guessed the middle-aged man probably didn’t know the first thing about being a ranch hand and would need a lot of training before he was proficient enough to earn his keep.

But there were plenty of easy but mundane chores around the ranch that he could do while he learned.

“I’ll do anything.” Mr. Berkley spoke in a wobbly voice, that of a broken man who knew he’d come close to dying and was getting a second chance.

“You’ll sign an agreement that says you’ll work for me for five years.”

“Yes. No question about it.”

“Good. Then we have a deal.” Sterling didn’t know all the lawyer language, but he’d watched his father work and talk long enough to know a little bit. He could write up a simple contract and make sure it was legal and bound Mr. Berkley to Noble Ranch until the debt was repaid.

Claude’s henchman didn’t immediately respond.

Sterling’s gut churned. He might be ruining himself with such a bargain. It was possible his dad would never deed him the ranch now. Instead, he’d be angry and call Sterling a fool.

Maybe he was a fool. But he’d rather save Violet’s father for her sake than have the best, biggest, and most profitable ranch in Colorado. She was more important to him than success. She was more important to him than anything. And this was his start in showing her that.

“I’ll ride to the bank this morning,” Sterling continued, “and bring Claude all but three hundred of the money.” Sterling had some hidden in a safe in the house, and the rest was locked away at the bank.

The henchman loosened his hold on Mr. Berkley. “Claude won’t accept anything less than two thousand.”

“It’ll take me a few more days to get the last of the three hundred. But you can tell Claude I’m good for it.”

He could feel Violet beginning to tremble behind him. What did she think of his plan? She hadn’t protested yet. Probably because she knew, like he did, that it was the only option.

Claude’s man began to drag Mr. Berkley back to his horse.

“Leave him here.” Sterling waved his gun. He hadn’t holstered it yet and wouldn’t until the men were gone.

The henchman again pulled Mr. Berkley in front of his body, then glowered at Sterling. “If I return to Claude empty-handed, I’ll be the dead man.”

Sterling didn’t want to chance Mr. Berkley going anywhere near Claude again. The best thing was for him to remain at the ranch. Violet and Hyacinth could tend to his wounds, then Beckett could get him settled into the bunkhouse.

“Mr. Berkley is staying.” Sterling spoke in his most authoritative tone. “I’ll go back to town with you in his place.”

The fellow’s eyes widened.

“You can go with me to the bank,” Sterling offered. “Then you can take me directly to Claude after that.”

The henchman hesitated for a few more long seconds. Then he shoved Violet’s father away from him. The move was unexpected, and Mr. Berkley stumbled forward, then fell to his knees in the matted grass.

Violet gave a soft cry of distress and tried to break free. This time, Sterling let her go. She shuffled past him, then down the steps and across the grass.

In the next instant, Hyacinth was running toward Mr. Berkley too.

Beckett stepped beside Sterling, his expression grave. “You’re giving away all of your savings?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re selling off a dozen steers for the rest.”

Sterling nodded.

Beckett blew out an exasperated breath. “I hope she’s worth it, boss. I really do. Because you’re giving up everything for her.”

Sterling knew he’d done the right thing. But a sick feeling settled in his stomach—the feeling that he hadn’t given up everything yet and the worst was yet to come.