Chapter 5 - Harlon PikeHarlon Pike dismounted without hurry.
That was what Caleb hated most about him.
Pike never appeared rushed.
Never tired.
Never worried that the next winter might destroy him.
He dressed well enough to remind poor men that poverty was visible.
His dark coat was clean, his boots polished, his hat expensive.
Even his horse looked better fed than Caleb’s cattle.
“Caleb.”
“Pike.”
Pike’s gaze moved past him toward the forge.
Mave was working.
The hammer rose and fell.
“So the rumor is true.”
“What rumor?”
“You’ve started manufacturing miracles.”
Caleb crossed his arms.
“We’re working.”
“I can see that.”
Pike walked toward the forge.
Mave ignored him.
He watched her shape a horseshoe.
“Interesting.”
She did not answer.
Pike turned toward Caleb.
“The bank takes this place in five days.”
“I know.”
“I’m giving you one last opportunity.”
“We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Not with five days left.”
Pike smiled.
“Sell voluntarily. I’ll cover enough of what you owe that you can leave with some dignity.”
Caleb felt anger rise.
“You mean leave while you get the ranch cheap.”
“I mean leave before the bank does it for you.”
Behind them, Mave’s hammer struck again.
Pike glanced over his shoulder.
“You think a forge changes the situation?”
“It helps.”
“A few repaired wagon wheels and horseshoes?”
“People pay for them.”
“Not enough.”
Caleb hated that Pike was probably right.
Pike knew it too.
“I could have men working this land by February,” he continued. “New fences by spring. A proper herd by summer.”
Caleb stepped closer.
“This land isn’t yours.”
“Not yet.”
Mave’s hammer stopped.
Caleb turned.
She was watching them.
Pike smiled toward her.
“Mrs. Ror?”
“No.”
That answer seemed to amuse him.
“Mave Collins.”
“Ah.”
He looked at Caleb again.
“The advertisement.”
Caleb stiffened.
“You heard about that?”
“Everybody heard about that.”
Pike looked around the ranch.
“Though I imagine the advertisement left out a few details.”
Mave’s face remained controlled.
“You appear very interested in another man’s private affairs.”
Pike smiled wider.
“I’m interested in land.”
“That explains the personality.”
Caleb nearly choked.
Pike’s eyes narrowed.
But the smile stayed.
He walked closer to the workbench.
A newly forged horseshoe rested there cooling.
Mave moved immediately.
“Don’t touch that.”
Pike stopped.
“Hot?”
“Hot enough.”
He waited, then used a scrap of leather lying nearby to lift it once it had cooled enough to handle.
He weighed it in his hand.
“This is what’s going to save the ranch?”
Mave said nothing.
Pike dropped the horseshoe onto the dirt.
It landed with a dull metallic sound.
Then he looked directly at her.
“In five days, the bank takes this place.”
He nudged the horseshoe with the toe of his boot.
“You think this junk is going to save the ranch?”
Mave’s eyes went first to the horseshoe.
Then slowly back to Pike.
Caleb took one step forward.
Mave raised a hand slightly.
Not yet.
Pike studied the soot on her face.
The apron.
The hammer.
“Never figured a woman would pretend she could do this work.”
The yard became very quiet.
Mave set the hammer down.
Only then did she step away from the anvil.
She stopped in front of Pike.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Her jaw tightened.
But when she spoke, her voice stayed level.
“Never figured you were good for much either.”
For one brief second, Pike’s smile disappeared.
Caleb saw it.
So did Mave.
Then Pike recovered.
“Cute.”
He turned toward Caleb.
“Five days. After that, this place isn’t yours anymore.”
Caleb’s hands tightened.
The old instinct moved through him.
Hit first.
Think afterward.
Years earlier it had gotten him thrown out of a saloon, fined, and nearly jailed.
Pike knew that history.
Maybe that was why he stood just close enough.
Mave touched Caleb’s forearm.
Lightly.
That was all.
Caleb looked down at her hand.
Then at Pike.
He opened his fists.
Pike’s eyes changed.
A little disappointment.
That pleased Caleb more than hitting him would have.
“We’re not selling,” Caleb said.
“You will.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll buy it from the bank.”
Pike walked back toward his horse.
Before mounting, he looked at the forge again.
At Mave.
At the customers’ work waiting beside the wall.
His smile returned.
But not completely.
He rode away.
Dust and frost rose behind the horse.
Caleb stood motionless until Pike disappeared beyond the ridge.
Then he kicked a fence post.
Pain shot through his boot.
Mave picked the horseshoe out of the dirt.
“You finished?”
“No.”
“Be finished.”
Caleb glared at her.
“He came here to humiliate us.”
“Yes.”
“He enjoyed it.”
“Yes.”
“He thinks he’s already won.”
Mave brushed dirt from the horseshoe.
“Then being angry is exactly what he wants.”
She placed it back on the bench.
Caleb looked at her.
“How are you not angry?”
“I am.”
“You don’t look angry.”
“That’s because anger is expensive.”
She picked up the hammer.
“We have five days. I can spend them being angry, or I can spend them making things people will pay for.”
Caleb looked toward the road where Pike had vanished.
Then toward the ledger sitting inside the house.
The numbers were still bad.
The deadline was still real.
He walked to the scrap pile and lifted an armful of iron.
“What do you need next?”
May you like
Mave turned back toward the glowing forge.
“Everything.”
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