Journey of the Bride by Mary Fox Page A

about birthing calves than he ’ d ever know about finances.
     
    He spat at the ground and frowned at Paul, daring him to say something about the lack of a cook. It was another thing he ’ d been meaning to get around to, but couldn ’ t really afford. Either way Brandon looked at it, things were getting bad at the ranch.
     
    He hadn ’ t the money to hire hands to help with the cattle herds, and without the herds, there was no money coming into the ranch.
     
    “ Shit. ” Brandon looked up at Paul, surprised to hear the curse word slip from between his teeth. Paul had always been a purer one. At least better than Brandon in the sense. “ How long are you going to wait before you get married, Brandon? ”
     
    “ I don ’ t need a wife, ” Brandon grumbled. He crushed down the feelings that threatened to bubble up with the admission. He ’ d heard this argument many times in the past, and he really wasn ’ t interested in hearing them again.
     
    Paul had been married two years now, and his pretty little wife, Samantha, was a dear. She was good to Paul and helped him meet new clients in the city through all her connections. Paul was becoming a socialite among men thanks to her help. Brandon would have envied his brother that, but that was before —
     
    “ You need someone in your life, Brandon. You can ’ t do everything yourself. Look at yourself. You can barely feed yourself. ”
     
    As if to add more fuel to Paul ’ s argument, Brandon ’ s stomach betrayed him and growled loudly. The gelding he rode snorted and shook his head.
     
    “ I don ’ t need a woman, Paul, ” Brandon said. There was a hard glint to his eyes as he looked up at his older brother again. “ I ’ m doing fine on my own. ” A cocky grin crossed his face. “ Besides, what kind of woman would want a grizzled ol ’ man like myself? Look at me. It ’ s as you said, I can barely feed myself. ”
     
    Paul frowned, but his glance did dart over Brandon once more. It was as he said. He looked like a rancher who worked too much, ate too little, and slept only enough to say he ’ d gotten sleep. It was frightening in a way.
     
    “ Have you been sleeping outside? ” he asked.
     
    “ Someone ’ s gotta watch the cattle. Coyotes are getting brave. ” Brandon shrugged again, a gesture that was starting to infuriate Paul. That was his brother though. He ’ d shrug off the bad business and ignore it as if it didn ’ t exist. He only handled what was a problem right then and there, letting the worst of the problems wait until they grew too large for him to handle on his own.
     
    Paul growled under his breath, raising his hand to wipe his face as if that would wipe away all his worries with it. He worried for his brother. That was why he was there after all, to check on him. He hadn ’ t had a chance to come since Ma and Pa ’ s death except to attend their funeral, and even then he hadn ’ t really had a chance to speak with Brandon. Samantha had scheduled a meeting with the mayor, one he hadn ’ t been able to get out of.
     
    “ How have you been doing lately? ” he asked, softening his tone.
     
    Brandon glanced up at him, his eyes full of suspicion. That wasn ’ t a surprise. It was hard for Brandon to trust anyway. Everyone around him seemed to be up to something.
     
    “ Ride with me, ” he said, his words gruff. He spun his bay around the slapped his lasso against his thigh again, yelling at the cattle to get on up. Ahead of them, the gate to the pasture he was herding them to was wide open. Already some of the cattle had made it inside and were milling toward the pond inside where they could drink or branching out to graze on the fresh grass before them.
     
    Brandon corralled them inside and dismounted, dropping one of the bay ’ s reins to the ground before he strode over to the gate and closed it. Brandon spoke as he worked. Whether to inform Paul of everything that had been going on at the ranch or to just