Bleeding Texas by William W. Johnstone Page A

wanted to know what was going on, but Bo didn’t go into the details of Gilbert Ambrose’s visit.
    â€œIt’ll be better if you wait so we can hash it all out together,” he told them.
    â€œIt can’t be anything good,” Riley said with a gloomy look.
    â€œYeah, a banker doesn’t come to see you unless he’s got something bad to tell you,” Cooper added.
    They picked up several other riders on their way in: Lee, Davy, and Jason Creel, all equally curious about why they were gathering at the home ranch. Bo knew his nephews were all solid young men, but the discussion that was coming would be between him, his brothers, and their father.
    Earlier, he had sketched out his plan to Scratch, who had agreed that it might work.
    â€œOne thing you can count on,” the silver-haired Texan had said. “I’m comin’ along.”
    â€œI don’t want you feeling like you have to,” Bo had said. “This is a family problem—”
    â€œAnd if you don’t think the two of us are the same as family after all these years, then you ain’t been payin’ attention, Bo Creel,” Scratch had declared in a voice that allowed no argument. “Besides . . . I got another reason I figure it might be a good idea for me to get outta Bear Creek for a spell.”
    That statement had put a grin on Bo’s face as he said, “That reason wouldn’t be a certain brown-haired widow, would it?”
    Scratch had winced at the question.
    â€œEmmaline’s nice as she can be, and she sure ain’t hard to look at, but her mind is workin’ in ways that’ve got me plumb spooked.”
    â€œMarrying ways?”
    â€œYou remember how I walked her home, the night of the social?”
    â€œSure, I remember.”
    â€œWell, turns out that when I got her back to her house, she expected me to come in and, uh, keep her company for a while. I got away with just a good-night kiss on the front porch—that time—but you know how a good-lookin’ woman has always been able to wrap me around her little finger, Bo.”
    â€œThat’s true,” Bo had said with a solemn nod.
    â€œAnyway, I’ve spent some time with Emmaline since then and she seems to think we’re courtin’ or somethin’, and she’s one o’ them women who figures that courtin’ leads straight as a string to marryin’, and you know I ain’t never been the marryin’ type. So if there’s a good reason for the two of us to get outta these parts for a while, I ain’t exactly gonna argue. If I can lend a hand to you and your family, even better.”
    â€œWe’ll see,” Bo had said. “Chances are, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
    Now, as the group reached the main ranch house, Scratch lifted a hand in farewell and said, “I’ll see you later, Bo. Let me know what you fellas decide to do.”
    Riley snorted and said to Bo, “You can tell your old pard what’s going on, but you keep your own brothers in the dark?”
    â€œYou won’t be in the dark much longer,” Bo said. “Come on.”
    The brothers dismounted and went in the house while the younger men took care of putting up the horses. Idabelle met them inside and said, “Your father’s in the study with Hank. And he’s in as dark a mood as I’ve seen from him in a long time, so be careful.”
    They found John Creel sitting behind the desk, his rugged features even more lined than usual by the strain of the dilemma facing him. Hank waved his brothers into chairs and said, “I suppose Bo’s told you what happened earlier this afternoon.”
    â€œWe know Gilbert Ambrose was here,” Riley said. “Bo wouldn’t explain any more than that.”
    Cooper said, “I reckon we can make a pretty good guess, though. He’s callin’ in the note, isn’t he? The whole