High Desert Cowboy (High Sierra Book 2)

by G. L. Snodgrass

  His shoulders slumped as he sighed heavily. Why was she always in conflict with him? One moment he treated her as if she added value. The next he tried to treat her like a fragile porcelain doll that might break if it was bumped in any way.

  “You might be in charge of the ranch,” she told him. “But my driving the wagon makes the most sense and you know it.”

  Again, he sighed as he looked out over the herd. “We’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

  She studied him for a moment then nodded. Let him think he was delaying a decision. She had made up her mind. She would drive that wagon with the herd and that would be it.

  “I will be back in the morning,” she said as she pulled Bob around and started him for home.

  “Let me send Sam with you,” he said quickly.

  Rebecca swallowed a sharp reply and instead took a calming breath.

  “You have already sent Tom up to the Lonesome Valley. And my cows need more care than I do.”

  He started to disagree when she held up her hand.

  “I’m serious Dusty, I can find my way home. I promise.”

  Again, he sighed, then nodded. She felt a quick thrill of victory until she saw his eyes drawn with worry. She was adding to his stress she realized. One more thing for him to worry about. But it had to be this way. There was too few of them to spend their time on unimportant things.

  Smiling to him, she gave him a positive look, silently promising that everything would be fine before turning Bob for home. When she topped the ridge, she looked back down to see Dusty watching her.

  What was he thinking? she wondered. Was he concerned about her because she was the ranch owner and she fell under that duty? Or perhaps, just maybe, he was concerned because he cared.

  A flash of hope filled her. Hope that would never be realized she well knew. But a woman could dream.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The crackle of a fire and the smell of woodsmoke mixed with coffee woke Dusty from a troubled dream about a fiery woman bent on making his life wonderful.

  Turning over in his bedroll, he caught sight of Sam kneeling next to the fire, pouring out a cup of coffee.

  “Thought that would wake you up,” Sam said as he took a long sip from the cup.

  Dusty glanced at the pink sky to the east, sunrise was an hour off.

  “A shift in the wind brought a hint of dust from the west,” Sam said. “They’ll be bringing that herd in a few hours. Reckon they stopped where we were at yesterday.

  Dusty nodded as he pushed back his blanket and stretched. Sleeping on the ground was getting harder every year, he thought as he fought to get his muscles working again. He could remember in the Army, bouncing up in the morning as if he’d slept on a feather bed.

  Nowadays, not so much.

  “Any problems?” he asked as he shook out his boots before pulling them on. Sam had relieved him at midnight and spent the last six hours circling the herd.

  Sam scoffed, “Here? The grass is good and the water is sweet. What would give them a reason to complain.”

  Dusty poured his own coffee. “Since when do cattle need a reason to be upset? It seems to just come naturally to them.”

  Sam nodded in agreement then climbed into his own bedroll. “Wake me when the other herd arrives and we’ll get started on cutting out the cows and heifers we want to keep.”

  Dusty rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks then took a deep breath. Another day. Would they make it? he wondered. He had scheduled things to give them extra time to cover any mishaps. But would there be enough stock? That he couldn’t control. Not this late in the game.

  His gut tightened with anger. He knew Tad Johnson was behind it. The man was a born skunk. But there was nothing he could do about it now. No, now he had to focus on getting as many head as possible to market and getting Rebecca’s loan paid off.

  His mind wandered to the beautiful ranch owner. She had completely amazed him. Her willingness to work alongside of them. Pushing herself over and over again. He well knew the aches and pains she must be feeling, but she refused to quit. Refused to give in.

  He’d watched her when she hadn’t known. Seen the way her body moved stiffly.

  A sense of admiration filled him.

  To top it off. The woman looked beautiful every moment of it. A face that could make a man forget himself. Sweet, pure. Even covered in dust with a battered hat and hours after hard riding. She remained straight-backed with a fire in her eyes that pulled at him.

  Both Tom and Sam had seen it as well. Dusty had watched them throwing each other looks. Raised eyebrows and knowing nods. It made him feel good to know that the hands admired her.

  No, she had done well. And never lost her sense of being a woman. None of them had ever thought of her as just another hand. The woman was too beautiful for that. To refined. To filled with class.

  But that made her accomplishments all the more remarkable.

  Shaking his head, he guided Red down to the herd. Most of the cattle were still bedded down. A few standing, stretching, making their way to the creek for a quick morning drink.

  Dusty shook his head. How many times had he done this? Gathered a herd for market? At least once a year for the last eight years. Sometimes twice. He never got tired of it. All the work for the year rested on this. The cold winters getting feed to them. The birthing and branding. Digging out muddy water holes or rebuilding fences. The long boring rides across dry rocky ground with no one to talk to but a man’s horse.

  Always before it had been for other men. Just another hand. Dismissed when the job was done. Or giving his notice because he wanted to see what was on the other side of the mountain. He’d never been this committed. It had never been this gut-wrenching important.

  He spent the next two hours circling the herd. Keeping them bunched. Making sure none strayed too far. As he rounded the distant edge, he glanced to the northwest over the backs of a mingling herd. A thin wisp of dust caught his eye.

  A single rider, moving fast.

  His gut tightened. The ranch house was that direction. Had something happened to Rebecca? He kicked Red to get him moving towards the rider.

  When he saw her, his heart relaxed. She was galloping across the ground like her horse’s tail was on fire. But she was safe. That was all that mattered.

  She spotted him and pulled the pinto towards him. The small horse slid to a stop in a puff of dust. He was shocked to see the fear in Rebecca’s eyes as she fought to catch her breath.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “P … Royal Prince,” she managed to get out. “He’s gone.”

  His gut fell. “How? Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “He was there last night, I checked on him when I got home. Fed him and Billy. Everything was fine. But this morning, when I went out to the stable, he was gone. His stall was open. Billy was still there, but not Prince.”

  He gritted his teeth. He knew Rebecca. She wouldn’t have left the horse’s stall open. And even if she had. She would have closed the barn’s door. Besides, if he’d wandered off, the goat would have gone with him. If the horse was gone, it was because someone had let him out.

  Tad Johnson, he thought. He knew how much that horse meant to the ranch. It was her fail-safe if the herd didn’t bring enough. She could maybe sell the horse to make up the difference.

  Someone had let him out on purpose.

  “Sam,” he yelled down to the camp.

  The cowhand rolled out of his bed with a gun in his hand, his eyes searching for enemies.

  “Prince is gone,” Dusty called out. “I’m going after him.”

  “Go,” the man said as he holstered his weapon. Nothing more. He understood. Dusty knew that he could leave him to make sure things got done. With Jack. Maybe they could get the two herds ready by the time he got back.

  With any luck, the horse hadn’t wandered off too far.

  He pulled Red back around to find Rebecca staring at him. “I’m going wit
h you,” she said. “I would have gone by myself but I couldn’t follow his trail.”

  Dusty took a deep breath. But there really wasn’t time to argue. Besides. The stallion was her horse.

  “You do what I tell you,” he said with a serious look.

  She nodded firmly.

  He kicked Red and they were off, galloping over the desert the four miles back to the ranch. She kept up with him, he noticed. Only three or four weeks after abandoning that silly sidesaddle and the woman could match him stride for stride. He could only shake his head.

  When they got to the ranch’s courtyard, he turned Red into the barn without jumping down. He had learned long ago to start at the very beginning. It was easier to outthink the animal that way.

  He quickly found the big stallion’s tracks. Next to them was a large boot print. Fresh. No man from the ranch had been there for two days. It didn’t belong to anyone from the ranch. Cursing under his breath, he returned to studying Prince’s tracks. Memorizing every unique aspect of each shoe. Once he was positive, he’d recognize them in his sleep. He followed them out the barn and to the west.

  Rebecca fell in next to him. She had the good sense to be quiet. An anger was building inside of him, he was likely to bite the head off anyone who talked to him.

  Someone who would let horseflesh like that out into the desert on his own was beneath contempt. Such a waste.

  The tracks went up past the spring, but Prince hadn’t stopped to drink. He wasn’t moving side to side in a casual wandering. No shifting from tuft of grass to tuft of grass. He was headed in a straight line. And no one was pushing him.

  No, he was going somewhere on purpose.

  “Darn,” Dusty muttered under his breath when he realized what was going on.

  “What is it?” Rebecca asked hesitantly.

  “Mares,” Dusty said with a shake of his head. “He’s got their scent and is going after them.”

  Rebecca’s face grew white. His heart went out to her. He doubted they could get to the horse in time to save him. That wild mustang would mop the saloon floor with a pampered horse like Prince. Maybe if they were lucky there would be enough left to nurse back to health.

  “Come on,” he called to her as he urged Red into a lope. The trail was relatively easy to follow. It was one direction, west. Into the hills.

  As they rode, Dusty kept his eyes on the trail. Occasionally glancing over at Rebecca to make sure she was keeping up. It didn’t take but two ridges to cross the trail of the wild herd. Dusty pulled up short to inspect the tracks just to make sure.

  And yes, there they were, horseshoes mixed in with the unshod tracks. Following them. His stomach tightened as he sent up a silent prayer that the horse would not be hurt too bad. Stallion fights were brutal, Especially wild ones.

  It wasn’t uncommon for one to be hurt so bad that they limped off to die. He dreaded the thought of rounding a bend to find Prince lying in the dirt. Rebecca would be devastated. He thought about telling her to return to the ranch but decided she wouldn’t have listened to him if he tried.

  The two of them continued. Even faster now that the trail was so blatant. Twenty horses couldn’t move through the country without leaving a wide swath.

  They were climbing a ridge when they both heard the distant whiney of a horse.

  “Prince?” Rebecca asked.

  All he could do was shrug his shoulders, but they were close. When they topped the ridge, they both pulled up to gather their courage before going on, both afraid of what they would find.

  There, below them in a wide bowl between rolling hills, a mob of twenty horses, circling and moving in on itself. On the outside, circling them with his head up was Prince, prancing like he owned the world.

  “I can’t believe it,” Dusty said as he shook his head.

  “What?” Rebecca demanded.

  “He did it. I don’t know how. But he did it. He beat that mustang and took his herd.”

  Rebecca’s jaw dropped as she twisted to watch the horse. But there was no denying it. The wild mustang was gone. Driven off by Prince. The lead mare was eyeing him suspiciously, running at him then backing off, trying to figure out if this interloper was going to be an asset or a useless hunk of horseflesh.

  Dusty squinted, it looked like the thoroughbred stallion had a bloody wound on his neck, but he couldn’t tell if there was more.

  Both Dusty and Rebecca kept very still as they watched the horses interacting. Dusty could only admire Prince. Well-muscled, taller than the mustangs. The horse moved with ease and grace. Beauty in motion. He couldn’t see any additional evidence of injury. No lameness.

  “I don’t know if that lead mare is going to accept him or not,” he said.

  Rebecca scoffed. “She’s a female. Of course, she will. He’s handsome, strong, and brave. What more could a woman want?”

  Dusty laughed as he started to shake out his lariat. “Boy, is he going to be mad when I get a loop on him. He ain’t going to like being taken away from them girls.”

  Rebecca frowned for a moment then shook her head. “Don’t.”

  Dusty balked. “What? Why not? You need that horse.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I couldn’t sell him in time. Not for what he is really worth. Not to anyone who would treat him right.”

  He sighed heavily. “Rebecca …”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Besides. If I lose this ranch. I don’t want to know that Tad Johnson got him.”

  He could only sit there and think about her words. Yes, he could see her point of view. If she lost the ranch. She would at least know that Royal Prince was free.

  “And,” she continued, “remember, John brought him out here to breed with the wild mustangs. A couple of years from now we will cut out his offspring for the ranch.”

  Dusty could only nod his acceptance as he watched the horse.

  Prince stopped prancing, ignoring the lead mare who had shifted over to flirty mode. Tossing her head about, trying to capture his attention. Instead, Prince turned to look up the ridge towards them. As if silently telling them goodbye.

  Dusty could well imagine the thoughts rushing through the stallion’s brain. He was at the top of his world. He had achieved everything any stallion had ever wanted. Nothing could take it away from him.

  “Just think how upset Billy is going to be when we tell him,” Rebecca said.

  Dusty laughed. “Something tells me that Billy will understand. He’s a male after all.”

  She laughed with him then they both turned back to their herd. To fulfilling their goal. If they were to enjoy the thought of Prince’s offspring, they were going to have to save the ranch first.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rebecca had to take the long way around to get the wagon into position. The herd was ready. The two groups mixed together, the desirable cows cut out and returned to the range. The remainder were all pointed in the right direction and not exactly thrilled with the idea.

  Jack Tanner had brought seventy-six steers and two old cows. Dusty had counted two hundred and twenty-eight head, most of them steers. The market price would determine whether it would be enough. That and getting them there in the first place of course.

  She twisted on the wagon’s bench to watch the four cowboys pushing the herd down the trail. She picked out Dusty immediately. Tall, straight, always moving. Always in charge. Her heart ached just looking at him.

  The cows bawled and cried. Upset at being pushed off good grass and away from clean water. In their view, life was good, why change?

  Sighing heavily, she turned and flicked the reins to get the team moving ahead of the herd. Dusty had told her to stay a quarter-mile in front. Away from the herd but close enough to be seen. She guided the horses around an outcropping of boulders to try and stay on smooth ground. But nothing really worked as the wagon rolled and dipped over the rocks.

  The morning had opened with a clear blue sky and threatened to be a scorcher by the mid-day. Especially down
here in the dryer part of the high desert. But she was getting used to it, she realized. The dust, the sweat, the prickly plants, and scurrying lizards. All of it was growing on her. Becoming home.

  The thought sent a bolt of fear through her. What would she do if she lost it all? What if every bit of the sale went to the banker and it was still not enough? She would be penniless in a harsh land.

  What could she do? What skill did she have that could be used to keep her alive? She had no family, no well-off friends. Nothing. There was not much call for pampered east coast women out here. Not unless she was willing to work in a bordello, or marry some man she barely knew just to keep a roof over her head and food on the table.

  No, she had nothing to offer. The ranch could not fail, she told herself over and over as a gnawing fear ate at her stomach.

  After several hours, Jack Tanner broke away from the herd and raced forward to ride alongside the wagon. She smiled up at him. They had barely had time to talk and she knew little about this man. But Jenny loved him, which was the highest of praise in her book.

  “They’re coming along better than I thought they would,” he said as he removed his hat to wipe his brow.

  “I imagine your stock is particularly upset. It is a bit different down here compared to their green valley.”

  He laughed. “They’re cows. It will take them a while to catch on. Tonight, it will sink in and they’ll start to balk.”

  As they continued to ride, the tall cowboy leaned over and lifted the lid off the water barrel to dip in his canteen. “Forgot to top off before we left the creek. I’m not used to being this far away from water.”

  “Dusty said that we will have to make a dry camp tonight,” Rebecca said.

  Jack nodded, “Yeah, it’s a bit far to make it all the way to the river in one day. Especially the first day on the trail. We’ll hit the river tomorrow afternoon. Thankfully it’s only a few days to Reno after that. Not like some of those cattle trails up in Montana. Those can take months and make a man feel used up and tossed aside.”