“I can’t take you home. Got to stay with the woolies and get them to higher pasture before the hot temperatures get on us.”
She blinked at him like a newborn lamb testing the light of the world for the first time.
“You mean you’re staying here?”
He allowed himself a grin. “Well, no. Not here.” Her pique was evident in her stormy gaze. He smoothed his hand down Sassy’s side and opened the saddlebag to slide the Bible into its little niche. “As I said, I need to move them higher.” There was no choice in the matter. Not for him. Not now. He’d already crossed the narrow bend of the path that was one of the most dangerous. If he left the sheep now and they wandered back to the familiar, he’d lose some over that ledge, and he held a stake in this herd. When Rich Morgan sent out his camptender to deliver supplies to Tyler in another couple of months, he could send her back then. Let Rich deal with figuring out how to get the girl home.
“I can’t just stay out here. With you—”
He jerked her direction, working to bite back hard words. She would not understand the isolation he was forced to endure. And why would she? She was a young woman wanting to go home after being held by a band of men probably not fit for human society. “That’s the way it’s got to be, Renee.” He tripped over her name. Saying it seemed so strange. A woman, here, in his camp. An event beyond his comprehension.
“If I leave the sheep alone, they will scatter and die. I watch them for a man by the name of Rich Morgan, and I’ve a stake in the herd, too.” He gathered Sassy’s reins and led the horse to the boulder. “Need help getting on? Four miles is a long way on foot.” She didn’t look at all happy with him. She stared around as if trying to figure out the direction she should go. Wide eyes met his, and he felt compelled to apologize. “As soon as someone comes, I’ll send you back. But not until then.”
She brightened, and he knew she misunderstood the promise inherent in his words.
“That could be two months. Maybe more.”
Her expression crumbled. “You can’t make me go with you.”
“No. Frankly, it’s easier if I don’t have you with me.”
“Then I’ll make my own way.”
“And risk becoming prey to the mountain lions or those men all over again? Who’s to say they aren’t looking for you right now?”
Her eyes settled on him. He could see the flecks of gold in the smoky gray expression. Strange eyes. Yet beautiful. He shook himself. No use letting his mind go soft just because he had a woman in camp. He stabbed the pointed toe of his boot into the stirrup and mounted up. When he glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, she remained rooted to the spot.
“You left them to come get me.”
“No. I left them to follow the mutt. You just happened to be part of the bargain.” No need to tell her she was only partly right. Following the mutt usually meant finding evidence of coyotes or other predators who might hunt the sheep. When the dog had led him so far out, sheer curiosity had made him follow. He’d begun to wonder if the dog was getting too old for the work when he’d discovered Renee. How he’d wished then he’d yielded to his instinct to break off trailing the mutt. No use fretting on it now, though. What was done was done.
Tyler urged Sassy along, throwing over his shoulder, “Go or stay, it makes no difference to me.”
❧
How dare he leave her standing there. He gave a long whistle and the little dog came to life. It skittered out in as wide an arc as possible around the edges of the flock. Renee’s anger drained as she watched in fascination how the dog prompted the sheep to their feet and into a rough column. A few times the dog disappeared, only to reappear with two or three sheep moving reluctantly along in front of him. With each passing minute, the man rode farther and farther away and the column of sheep grew longer, until the last one straggled behind the others baaing in protest and running to keep up. The dog trotted up beside the long column, tongue lolling from exertion, though its eyes never strayed from the sheep.
For the first time, Renee realized she had no idea what the man’s name was. He looked tough. His movements were easy. She scanned almost straight up the mountainside and then back to the east at the path from which they entered the grassy meadow. With a sinking heart, she realized she had no way of knowing in which direction her home lay.
A rattle in the bushes to her right jerked her attention that direction. Cold fear coursed through her veins and she froze, heart thundering. Snakes would be awake with the warm weather. Or cats. Even bears might be ambling around. Without pausing to think, she dashed off after the band of sheep, running for all she was worth along the edge of the herd, fanning them out off to the side and into the undergrowth. “Help! Please stop.”
She sensed whatever lurked behind her moving closer. She imagined that at any moment she’d feel pressure on her back as whatever it was pounced and shoved her to the ground. Her foot caught and she stumbled and cried out.
seven
Tyler heard the cry for help and pulled Sassy around. He scanned the column of sheep and saw where they had plunged off the path and into the rocky ground and dense underbrush. What now? It would take him, Sassy, and Teddy awhile to get the sheep rounded up and back on the trail. With a grunt of displeasure, he backtracked along the column and whistled for Teddy to wait for commands. No use having the dog try to control things until he knew the reason for the girl’s distress.
Alert for movement or threat, he frowned when he heard nothing out of the ordinary and saw nothing move. He pulled the Sharps from the scabbard just in case. About two-thirds back along the column of sheep, he spotted the heap on the ground, the elusive hound lying a few feet away, obviously guarding the woman. Apparently the mutt had centered his affections on Renee. His heart rate picked up as he nudged Sassy to a trot, fear rising that Renee had hurt herself. As he drew closer, he heard her sobs. Gut-wrenching cries that scared him with their fierceness. He shot one more distance-eating glance around and slipped the gun into the scabbard. He slid to the ground and knelt beside her, aware that the mutt also chose that moment to disappear into the underbrush. When Tyler touched Renee’s shoulder, she didn’t move.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, her cries softening.
“Renee?” He wanted to be angry. All he needed now was a hysterical woman to slow down his progress.
“I thought—” He helped her to her feet, and she brushed at her cheeks. Her knees showed grass stains; her hands were embedded with small gravel. She brushed them together.
“You thought you heard an animal.”
She nodded, and the meek vulnerability in her gaze twisted him up inside. He’d seen that look before. That mix of fear and hope. Pleading.
He clicked his tongue and Sassy came up beside them. Without a word, he cupped his hands. Renee needed no further invitation. She settled back as he swung into the saddle. He did his best to shut his mind to her presence, but then his shirt tugged as she grabbed a fistful of the material to hold on to. Tyler swallowed hard and nudged Sassy toward the column of sheep. He whistled and saw Teddy swing into action at the farthest edge of the herd. He shifted Sassy’s position to the other side of the herd and began working the sheep forward from the rear of the herd as the dog darted into the underbrush to draw out the sheep Renee’s screech and flight had scattered.
Tyler fought hard with every clop of Sassy’s hooves to draw his mind back to the sheep and away from the troublesome woman at his back. He scanned for predators and encouraged Teddy to keep the line moving forward. Time passed in a slow wave of receding heat as the sun passed its zenith and began to sink over the tip of the mountain, though he knew daylight would still exist for several hours.
Only when the tightness of his shirt loosened somewhat did he dare hope Renee might be relaxing into the rhythm of Sassy’s gait. But, minutes later, the soft, sagging pressure against his back told another story.
He drew rein and shifted in the saddle.
“Renee?” Immediately the pressure of her against his shirt released. He couldn’t help but smile. “If you fall asleep, you risk falling off.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” she assured, yet the rusty sound of her voice gave her away.
“ ’Course not.”
“Can I walk?”
Not waiting for an answer, she put her hands on his shoulders and shifted her right leg over. Without a word Tyler turned to brace her and held onto her forearm as she slipped to the ground. “Stay close so you don’t spook the sheep again.” He watched her begin the trek, taking a place beside Sassy. The nearby sheep shied from her, already having had one experience with her screeches, but he spoke to them, telling them over and over it was okay. Finally, and with no little embarrassment, he used the method that worked best to soothe the animals. The first few notes of song were rough with the nerves he felt singing in front of her. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his face forward, leading the herd along like the fabled pied piper.
As the words of the song slipped out, he imagined her exhaustion must match his own. Events of the day spiraled into a tight knot of weariness between his shoulder blades. And still there would be more work to do once they arrived at the new campsite. He finished the song and called out.“We’re two miles out.”
No answer. He breathed deeply of the cool air and started another song.
Another mile passed before he looked back. Renee still walked, though her stride had diminished to a shuffling stagger toward the back of the long line of sheep. This girl was going to make him crazy. He whistled to Teddy to keep the line going and stopped Sassy to wait for her to catch up. She seemed not to notice his presence and gasped when he planted himself on the ground in front of her.
“You ride,” he said, his voice a growl. “I’ll walk.”
To his surprise she didn’t fight him or protest. She leaned heavily on him as he caught her booted foot and raised her up.
“Another mile at most.”
Her shallow nod acknowledged his words.
“It won’t take me long to set up camp. Then you can sleep.”
“Thank you.”
At first he thought he’d heard wrong, her voice so low, the words little more than a whisper. “You’re welcome, though I’m not sure how thankful you’ll be come tomorrow.”
If she wondered what he meant, she showed no curiosity. Tyler wondered how long it would take her to come to despise the solitude and crude life of a shepherd. And even as Sassy carried her that last mile to the next camp, he questioned his decision to continue the ride to summer camp with Renee in tow.
eight
Fear tugged Renee toward wakefulness. Thomas’s face flared in her mind; then a gunshot rang out and he disappeared. Her breath came hard and fast, her heart beat the thunder of a thousand wild mustangs. She cradled her face and pulled air into her starved lungs. Like someone sawing through ropes with a dull blade, the dream released her one cord at a time. Despite the open sky above her and the light blanket, she expected the face of her captors to appear over her. Taunting. Daring. Thomas, too, his face a mask of pain, accused her.
She became aware, first, of the baaing of sheep. Of the snap and crackle of a fire. Then of the man who had rescued her.
He sat on the ground two hundred feet in front of her, his back to her. An animal lay in the thick grass beside him. She rubbed at her eyes. His presence cut the last strand of her disorientation. The animal beside him baaed again. She shuffled to her knees, chilled by the sweep of cold against her blanket-warmed skin. He had settled her on the ground and given her a blanket in the early evening of the previous day. She’d slept long and sound, until those last, vivid stabs of memory.
What would she do here? What was there for her? If this man wouldn’t take her home, she’d have to find a way to go by herself. But the thoughts filtered away as the sheep’s legs stiffened and the animal’s neck extended, a powerful baa pulsing from its throat. She sat up taller and could see that the man stroked the side of the animal, speaking in low tones, though she could not understand what he said. She watched as he moved, hands gentle on the animal’s side.
Mesmerized, she stood to her feet and moved closer. He worked over the animal, sending her a startled glance when he caught sight of her. The animal lay on its side, straining, and Renee realized the sheep was about to give birth. The man motioned her away with a violent slicing of his hand. His dark frown discouraged her even further. She retreated back to the blanket and sat.
He still had his back to her, yet she could see that the birth must be difficult, for the man assisted the animal diligently. The bunching of his shoulders and movement of his head, and above all else, the gentle tone of his voice continued as the long minutes stretched into a ball of tedium. She shifted her position a dozen times, wondering how he could sit so still and be so patient when every nerve in her body pulled taut. Eventually the sheep stretched its neck and pulled almost to a stand. The man sat back on his heels.
When he turned and caught her gaze, he put a finger to his lips. But she glimpsed the burst of a smile as he again faced the new mother and baby. He ran his hand over the newborn animal’s face until it wheezed and air filled its lungs. A black lamb. Wet. He lifted it and brought it to the mother, and she began to nuzzle the baby. Renee couldn’t take her eyes from the dark form struggling then resigning itself to its mother’s nuzzles and licks.
“It’s her first lamb.” He did not look at her, his eyes on the mother as she cleaned her baby. Something sad slashed across his features. Her heart tugged at the wistfulness in his expression. The sight of mother and child must remind him of family. Way up here, in the mountains, she could see where he would get lonely, perhaps for his own home, wife, and child, for what did she know of him?
“What is your name?”
His eyes flicked over her, euphoria over the lamb’s birth morphing into something piercing. “Tyler Sperry.”
His gaze held her in its grip until she blinked, confused over the unexpected hostility in the thrust of his jaw and the coldness of his eyes. Before she could respond, or even begin to grasp the reason, he pivoted and waded into the herd. Renee stared after him, feeling more alone than she had in a long time. Weighted by the grief of Thomas’s death and her guilt, she curled into a knot by the fire. Hunger bit at the pit of her stomach, but the ache of her loss, of her inability to return home, eclipsed everything else.
Tyler worked among the sheep for hours, checking their feet, patting them as if they were his friends. The sight of him coddling the animals angered her. She needed to go home. How could he worry over such dumb, ugly animals when her need was obviously greater?
The anger burned through her reserve and she burst to her feet, the pinch of placid muscles fueling her anger as she walked about, working the kinks from her back, her gift from sleeping on the hard ground. Her stomach growled, and she railed at Tyler Sperry in her mind for not having at least the sense and hospitality to offer her something.
He continued his work, oblivious to her raging temper and, for the lack of someone on whom to vent her rage, it bled from her in a thin stream that left her exhausted and empty. Not knowing what else to do, Renee plopped down on the ground and hugged her legs to her chest. She buried her head in her arms and must have fallen asleep, for when she lifted her head, she not only felt the heat from a fire but smelled food.
Tyler nudged at something in the skillet then nestled the pan back into the hot coals. He rose to his full height and turned to the crude tent, snatching up a hammer. “Watch the griddle cake while I finish up here. There are a few pieces of salt pork to fry when it’s done.”
Renee frowned hard. “I’m not a good cook,” she bit out. Mama had tried, but nothing Renee put her hand to in the kitchen ever seemed to match what her mother could produce. Or maybe the memories of her mother’s cooking were so distorted through years of missing her that she couldn’t discern reality from imagination.
“I’m sure you’
ll do fine.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “Am I to be some sort of slave, then?”
Tyler stood still, his back to her. Her heart slammed hard as she waited for his response. She half expected him to hurl the hammer, but he didn’t.
“A little help is always appreciated, Renee.”
His soft words flushed her with shame, and her throat ached. “I want to go home.”
His head sagged between his shoulders, and she heard his long sigh. “A shepherd doesn’t just leave his flock.”
She understood. Deep down inside she knew she was being unfair to ask this of him again. “How can I stay here with you? Unchaperoned? It’s not. . .right.”
“It’s not the best situation.”
Somehow his concession didn’t comfort her. He moved then, toward the tent spread out on the ground and began pounding the stakes. Renee rose to her knees and used a cloth to pull the griddle from the fire. A finger to the top of the griddle cake seemed to indicate it was done. With a fork, she pushed it onto a tin plate. She found the slab of salt pork and sliced some into the griddle, nestling the pan into the hot coals. Settling back on her heels, absorbing the warmth of the fire, she looked up. Tyler’s gaze was on her. A small smile curved his lips.
nine
It was the time of day that Tyler usually dreaded, when the loneliness of his occupation ate at him most. Renee’s presence seemed odd, yet exciting. What he hadn’t realized was that being a sheepherder had chiseled away at his ability to carry a conversation. Or maybe he was just too afraid he’d give himself away. Even mentioning his name had rattled him. He’d feared it would bring instant recognition and fear, something he would expect even if he hated the effect. Regret had become a powerful and very real force in his life.
Tyler stretched out on the ground across from where Renee sat by a pool of water a short distance from the camp. He had debated with himself about interrupting her solitude, but he had questions and she had all the answers.
Shepherd's Song Page 3
