“Thank you for giving me access.”
“You’re welcome.”
Gideon seemed reluctant to stop looking at the letters and journals, but he didn’t object, taking off the gloves he’d donned and putting them with the rest.
“Come on, big brother,” Libby said, pushing him toward the door. “I knew Alaina was nearly done, so I called Deke when you got here. He’s meeting us for lunch.”
* * *
GIDEON LIFTED AN EYEBROW. “Isn’t Deke on duty today?”
Libby shrugged. “He’s entitled to a lunch break and Mom always makes a ton of food. You know she’ll be upset if we don’t eat it all.”
Gideon cast a look at his tenant as they got into the truck and saw her blue-green eyes glinting with laughter. At least someone thought the whole thing was funny.
“Alaina, how about doing our first tour on Thursday?” he asked to change the subject. “I’d suggest tomorrow, but I have a ranch association meeting in the evening.”
“Thursday is fine.”
“I thought we’d do the lower elevations of the ranch first. The terrain will be easier for someone who hasn’t ridden in a while. We can go higher in later outings.”
Her mouth opened and closed. He suspected she wanted to protest, saying she didn’t need something easier, then had thought better of it.
He drove to the park on the edge of Bannister. Deke was already waiting for them. Libby waved and hopped from the truck, rushing over to where he was sitting.
“This is nice,” Alaina said as she got out.
Gideon retrieved the cooler bag before gesturing to the brass plaque on a stone monolith. “This is the Mary Westcott Park. My great-great-something uncle gave the land in honor of his fiftieth wedding anniversary. Altogether he and his wife were married for seventy-six years.”
“That must be a record.”
“It is for Bannister County, at least.”
Alaina traced the names and then looked up. “I see the town added a second plaque after they were both gone, honoring him, as well. Seventy-six years. That’s a whole lifetime.”
Gideon recognized the shadowed regret in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
She shook her head. “Don’t apologize. It’s nice to hear stories about long happy marriages. They were happy, right? I’d hate to think they stayed together being miserable.”
He smiled faintly. “Very happy, by all accounts. And they went peacefully within hours of each other. Do you—”
“Hurry up,” Libby called from over at the picnic area, interrupting him. “We’re hungry and Deke has to get back on duty.”
* * *
DEKE NUDGED LIBBY. “My lunch break isn’t that short. Maybe they were talking about something important.”
“Arguing is more likely. So, when are you asking me to dinner? You keep showing up at the ranch with the weakest of excuses. I’m guessing it has something to do with little ole me being there. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
A choked laugh came from Deke’s throat. Libby was the most straightforward person he knew. He liked her, and he liked the way she didn’t hide how she felt. At the same time, he knew Gideon had doubts about his sister getting involved with a man who was so much older than her.
Truth be told, Deke had doubts about it himself.
He was at a point in his life that marriage and children sounded appealing. He’d enjoyed casual flirting and dating, but he didn’t want to be an old man by the time he raised a family. Libby, on the other hand, had another year of college, a post-graduate degree to earn and a career to establish that meant a great deal to her. She probably wouldn’t be ready to have kids—if she wanted them in the first place—for at least ten years. By then, he’d be in his midforties.
“Ooh, I’ve shocked you into silence,” Libby said merrily. “I keep forgetting that things are more old-fashioned in Bannister than at college. Am I supposed to be demure and pretend I don’t like you until you say something first?”
“I’m not shocked, I’m flattered. How about Friday at the Made Right Pizza Parlor?” he asked against his better judgment. After all, they were just getting acquainted. It was too early to start worrying about the future.
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you there at six.”
“All right, but I’m paying.”
“Then I’ll buy the beer,” she said in a soft voice that her brother couldn’t overhear.
Deke looked at her sharply, unsure if she was even old enough to buy alcohol. The question alone underscored the differences between them.
He sighed. “We’ll talk about it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
ON THURSDAY GIDEON was surprised when Alaina came to the barn earlier than the time they’d agreed to and saddled Nikko herself, saying Libby had shown her which tack to use.
It was an even greater surprise when Griz trotted across the paddock to eat the carrot Alaina put on a fence post, and then nickered at her. There couldn’t be two more different people than his great-grandfather and Alaina Wright, so why would Griz have responded to her in the first place?
“Do the trees still produce fruit?” Alaina asked as they rode past the ranch’s orchard and old vegetable garden, fallow since his great-grandmother’s day.
“There’s a decent crop of apples and plums each year,” Gideon said. “I keep a few crates of apples for the horses, but my mom and grandmother pick and preserve the rest. I don’t do much aside from watering and maintaining the fences to discourage deer.”
“You don’t spray any pesticides?”
“I wouldn’t dare, or my great-grandmother’s ghost would rise up to haunt me. She read Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring when it came out and told Grandpa Colby that she’d divorce him if he ever used pesticides again. He didn’t argue the point.”
Alaina grinned. “I understand Colby Westcott was a strong individual. Your great-grandmother must have been just as strong.”
“She was, though I doubt a dispute over pesticides would have ended their marriage. Grandma Vivian found natural ways to help control pests, but I don’t have time to use them. I’m afraid the trees are on their own.”
“Libby said the old vegetable garden almost covered an acre. Was the ranch ever self-sustaining with so much homegrown fruit and produce?”
“Close to it. In the early years, the family mostly bought cloth, coffee, flour, sugar, salt and cornmeal. Times were simpler then.”
Gideon tried to assess Alaina’s posture on Nikko without being too obvious. She wasn’t as relaxed as someone who rode often, but at least she didn’t bounce up and down in the saddle like some of the greenhorns he’d seen. And her slim figure showed to advantage on a horse.
He was irritated with himself for noticing. It wasn’t that he was oblivious to Alaina’s beauty...but that was the problem. He was too aware of it. She was also interesting and softhearted, which made it difficult to just dismiss her from his thoughts. What had possessed him to get into a personal discussion about her childhood that day on the trail?
He could easily envision the determined little girl she’d once been, frustrated by the well-meaning constraints from her family. An impish smile must have concealed whatever secret plans she had for rebellion.
But the last thing he needed was to complicate his life, so his best bet was to simply treat Alaina like a client.
Keeping that in mind, Gideon gestured to the fields in front of them. He was a tour guide today, nothing more. “We winter most of the cattle on this part of the ranch.”
“Is that why you have more fences and windbreaks here?”
He shrugged. Alaina probably didn’t appreciate fences as a wildlife photographer. “Windbreaks help protect the cattle during storms, and fences are part of containing the herds for winter feeding. We also keep the bulls separate until the females are ready to breed agai
n. Small temporary pens are used when we’re branding and vaccinating calves.”
“Libby mentioned you do freeze branding. That’s when cold is used to freeze the hair follicles, right?”
“Yes. I think it’s less stressful for them.”
“Do your fellow ranchers agree?”
“Let’s just say it hasn’t caught on.” Gideon’s decision to switch to freeze branding had caused controversy at the ranch association meetings. Folks in Bannister County clung to tradition the way lichen clung to a rock. “It was one of my first decisions after becoming foreman. My great-grandfather wanted to go back to the old way, but changed his mind after watching me use the method.”
* * *
“HE MUST HAVE recognized it was easier on the calves,” Alaina said, intrigued by the play of emotion on Gideon’s face. Now she saw a crooked smile growing.
“Calves are noisy, no matter what. We have to temporarily separate them from their mothers, so that’s when the fun starts. But Grandpa Colby saw that sometimes they barely notice a freeze brand being applied. He wasn’t unreasonable. He just felt at his age, he already knew the best way to get things done.”
Alaina heard fond respect in Gideon’s voice, rather than frustration or triumph. It was nice. He could have resented his great-grandfather for trying to keep running things and having to fight him on points where they disagreed; instead he seemed to cherish Colby Westcott’s memory.
So far her stay at the Double Branch wasn’t turning out the way she had expected. She’d wanted to immerse herself in the wilderness, to fill every cell and pore of her being with the mountains and its wild creatures, envisioning days or weeks when she didn’t see or speak to anyone.
Instead she was taking pictures at a museum and photographing orphan calves being bottle fed. Then helping to feed them. She was watching Libby Cranston and Deke Hewitt sidestep through the first stages of either friendship or romance, unsure of what they wanted from each other, but convinced there was something. She’d spent hours learning to saddle and unsaddle a horse and how to groom it properly. And she was leaving carrots for Grizzly on every possible occasion, hoping to coax him into becoming less isolated.
Then there was Gideon. The enigma, who was making an effort to be chatty today.
In a way they were alike, each wanting to be alone, and yet forced together by circumstance. He was doing it over a misplaced concern over her safety. While for her part, she’d agreed to the tours as a chance to locate the best wildlife observation points in the shortest period of time—which was why she would have preferred to just head for the high country. The closer she got to the Yellowstone wilderness area, the better chance she’d have to see wolves.
Still, if she were going to be honest with herself, that wasn’t the only reason for riding with Gideon. She had a growing curiosity about ranching...and about ranchers. Once upon a time she would have said she was immune to the “strong, silent type,” but Gideon was getting to her in his own subtle way.
“How does freeze branding mark your cows?” Alaina asked, determined to think about something else.
“The hair is shaved and grows back white, which stands out, maybe even better than a traditional brand. Most of our cattle are black, but if a calf has white hair in the brand location, we leave the brand on longer, which keeps the hair from regrowing altogether. Either way, ownership is marked, so a buyer can tell if a cow has been stolen.”
Alaina blinked. “Is cattle rustling still a thing?”
Gideon let out a disgusted sound. “You bet. I’d hate to tell you how much a single cow can be worth. And in today’s world of ATVs and GPS units, it’s almost easier to steal cattle than rob a convenience store.”
“I wouldn’t do either one.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Me, either.” The humor on his face faded. “I take the well-being of my herds seriously. Fortunately, most of my summer grazing land is a fair distance from any access roads. It’s still possible, but for the easiest approach, a thief would have to come close to the ranch center, which puts them at greater risk of being caught.”
“So you don’t have as much trouble as some ranchers?”
“No losses to date, except to predators.”
Alaina looked away, remembering the taxidermy exhibits Gideon had donated to the museum. Even now he was carrying two rifles in scabbards on his horse’s saddle, and she was sure he was prepared to use them.
They rode in silence for a while. Her camera hung on a strap around her neck and the valley was lushly green, but she wasn’t confident enough to split her attention between riding and taking pictures.
“Do you get any elk migrating out of the Yellowstone ecosystem?” she asked finally. “I know some of the northern herds cross to feeding grounds in Montana and compete with cattle for food.”
“The Double Branch gets a small number. They winter up the valley from the house. We try to prevent them from eating the hay and protein cake put down for the herds, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they got some of it.”
It was a piece of information Gideon hadn’t volunteered before and Alaina wondered what it would be like to photograph wild elk from the cabin’s loft window. Living in such close proximity would be amazing.
There were herds of cattle beyond the pastures Gideon had mentioned that were used for haying and Alaina saw him assessing them as they passed. Twice he stopped, got down and tightened the wire on a fence. The second time she shot several pictures, hoping Nikko wouldn’t bolt when she wasn’t in full control of his reins.
It was impossible not to be fascinated by the fluid way Gideon’s muscles bunched and pulled, his shirt strained taut against them. He was strong from heavy physical labor and it showed.
“I meant to ask, did you find out what happened to Rita’s mother?” she said as Gideon mounted Blackbird again, one of the horses he was using while Brushfire’s leg healed.
“Jeremy located a cow that had recently given birth,” Gideon explained. “From the brand, we know she belongs to a neighbor, Victor Reese, who’s going to ride over and collect her. When he gets a chance, that is. Victor doesn’t know how she got there, but one of his heifers went missing last autumn, so it could be her.”
Alaina’s stomach fell. She was glad the mother was alive, but what did that mean for Rita?
“Victor said to keep the calf,” Gideon added, answering the question without being asked. “She would have died if we hadn’t found her, and still could, so if we’re willing to put the effort in, he thinks the Double Branch should benefit.”
“That’s generous.”
“Yes and no,” Gideon said wryly. “Victor’s kids used to raise his orphaned calves, but now that they’re grown and living elsewhere, he doesn’t like to bother. Regardless, this isn’t the first time that some of his cows have found their way to the Double Branch. He probably won’t fetch her for several months, hoping she’ll get fat on my grass instead of his.”
“That’s cynical.”
“It’s realistic. He runs too many cattle, so his rangeland is overgrazed. Most ranchers aren’t like that. One of these days I’m hoping he’ll sell his ranch to me.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said.
Obviously ranching was more complicated than she’d thought, with villainy and greed coming into play. And decency, she acknowledged. However difficult Gideon might be, he seemed honest. She also didn’t think he’d stay in the business if there were too many unsavory apples in the barrel, so to speak.
A short time later Gideon suggested they stop and eat the food Helene had sent. They picnicked in the shade by a creek, with Danger splashing in the water and chasing silver flashes of fish. Alaina was tempted to remove her borrowed boots and roll up her jeans for a wade herself. Or even to go swimming in the deeper parts. Her muscles ached from the morning ride, but she was determined not to show any weakness.
/> So after eating she took pictures of Danger having fun, then started getting shots of the wildflowers along the meandering waterway. A while later she made her way back to the picnic site and saw Gideon lying on his back with his hat over his face.
Well, why shouldn’t he sleep?
He seemed to work eighteen hours a day, seven days a week. If she’d ever had the idea that ranching was easy, her stay at the Double Branch would have proven her wrong.
Curious, Alaina examined the cowboy hat that Gideon had insisted she wear. It looked new, making her think he’d purchased it in Bannister while she was working at the museum. After all, the town had a boot and leather shop and he was annoyed about the additional three thousand dollars she’d insisted on paying him.
The hat was made from quality cream suede leather, soft enough to be comfortable, yet not so much it would lose its shape. She couldn’t imagine a down-to-earth rancher or cowhand wearing such a pale color, or wanting the narrow blue-green braided leather band at the base of the crown.
Feminine, without being too obvious.
Alaina wrinkled her nose and set the hat aside as she lay on her stomach to photograph water striders in the creek. The insects skittered across the surface like comic ice-skaters.
She was so intent on getting the best pictures of the agile bugs she didn’t realize Danger was next to her until he stuck his wet nose into her neck.
Alaina rolled over, laughing softly. Danger’s tongue was hanging from one side of his mouth and he wore an expression of silly joy. Though a working dog, he enjoyed his playtime, too.
“Good boy,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. Are you anxious to get going?”
The German shepherd cocked his head to one side, but didn’t utter a peep. As promised, he was obedient when given the command to be quiet.
* * *
Christmas on the Ranch--A Clean Romance Page 11
