Tyler chided himself for being foolish enough to think the gang would stay over in the Dakota Black Hills and not come looking for him. If they trekked this far away from their usual home base, there was no reason to delude himself that they were here for anything else except finding him. Renee had been a casualty of their search, nothing more. He should have moved on like he’d planned from the beginning. But Rich had become a good friend and had needed someone to herd in the mountains. The offer to buy into half the sheep had been appealing as well as the promise of seclusion.
After all Rich had done for him, Tyler couldn’t let him down now that he had experience with the sheep.
Tyler chuckled dryly, thinking back to the lessons of that first month taking the sheep up the mountain to summer pasture. He’d treated the animals roughly, using the dog more frequently to bunch the woolies tight whenever he got tired of them wandering too far. He’d even tried to force them through dense brush on a narrow trail, angered when they scattered every which way to avoid the tangle of undergrowth.
And he’d reaped guilt for his mistreatment when Rich met him a month later in the summer range at the top of the mountains. The man’s expert eye surveyed the herd and his sole comment, “They’ve lost a lot of weight,” filled Tyler with shame and the certainty that Rich knew what he’d been doing. When they rode down to check on the sheep, the animals scattered from Tyler’s presence. Again, he felt Rich’s knowing eye on him.
“Sheep should feel comforted by your presence, not threatened.”
Yet even after that, Rich had been patient. His parting gift had been the Bible and a request to “start with the twenty-third Psalm.”
Each word of the book had challenged Tyler’s attitude toward the sheep in his care. Nose flies had given him the opportunity to work closely with the animals, applying the ointment that gave them relief. He’d used the time with the animals to put into practice the gentle manner of the shepherd in Psalms.
The small book had taught him something about kindness and mercy and stirred in him a longing for someone to offer the same to him. Rich had, and when Tyler had tried to thank the man, Rich’s response had been, “Thank the Lord, son.”
Sometimes when Tyler gazed out at the burst of colors in the sunset or witnessed the breathtaking beauty of hidden meadows on the mountain range, he knew there had to be a God. Rich would have agreed with him on the matter. “He waits for us all,” would be his response, though Tyler didn’t quite know what it all meant. Now, with the worry that Marv might be hunting him, he wondered if God would protect him if he prayed and asked.
It seemed so odd to pray. Weak. Yet Rich wasn’t weak and Tyler knew the man prayed, and often. And what about protecting Renee? If the gang lurked in the territory searching for him, he risked her safety by not getting her away as soon as possible. Why should he expect her to stick her neck out for him? Because he’d grown used to having her nearby? Because he enjoyed those moments when he had someone to talk to? And she was beautiful, like Anna. But not like Anna at all.
Teddy returned to his side as Tyler set the last trap. He climbed to the lookout again to gauge the mood of the herd, pleased to see in the waning light that they were restful and calm. He watched the newborn lamb toddle toward its mother. Reprimand bloomed in his mind as he likened the lamb to Renee. His expectations, and the similarity of their willful ways, pushed him to demand too much from her too soon. Just as the lamb must learn and grow, he had to let her. He was not her shepherd, God was.
Tyler lowered his head and drank in the cooling night air. He loved the richness of nighttime in the mountains but something had changed. What once he found soothing now brought a twist of restlessness. Maybe he would tell Rich it was time for him to move on. If God protected him from the gang, he could take the herd back in the fall and travel west, maybe to California. With the decision bright in his mind, Tyler headed toward camp. He hoped Renee would be asleep, that she wouldn’t take him up on the idea of leaving. He quickened his pace, anxious to see if the strong-minded woman had already stripped him of provisions and started Sassy down the mountain.
Sassy sent Tyler a nicker of greeting as he drew closer to camp. He scratched the horse’s neck. Relief flooded him when he saw Renee’s huddled form sitting by the fire, a book spread in her lap, a curtain of dark hair preventing him from seeing her profile. But she was there.
He left the horse and strode up to the fire, holding his hands near the heat, waiting for that moment when she would see him. She didn’t move, a sniff the only suggestion of life.
“It’s cold out there,” he said, trying to open a conversation.
She raised her head then, eyes red, streaks of wetness leaving tracks on her cheeks.
Fear stabbed and he wondered if she was hurt. He scanned her from head to toe and saw nothing amiss. “What happened?”
Renee shook her head and swiped a tendril of hair from her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t an apology. He opened his mouth to respond.
“You think I’m selfish.”
He held his tongue, unsure where she was going with this.
❧
Renee stared down at the book in her lap and scratched Teddy’s head as he lay beside her. Through fresh tears she could see the blur of words. “I helped myself to something to read. It got too quiet.” She lifted her head and saw his slight nod.
“I’m glad you didn’t start out in the dark,” he offered.
“It came out all wrong,” she blurted. She hesitated and stilled her thoughts to think through what she wanted to say. “I know you wouldn’t keep me up here if you thought it was dangerous—”
“Which is why I suggested you leave, because it could get that way if they find me.”
“But you also thought I was thinking about myself too much.”
He didn’t answer but turned his head away from her, his shoulders almost a physical wall. “I can see in you what I myself used to be.”
His words slid over her, a promising ointment to the open wound of her guilt. “My foolishness got Thomas killed.”
“He might not be dead, Renee.” Tyler faced her and removed his hat. “Did you see his body?”
“No.”
“If they shot him, they didn’t let him get real close before they did it. He might have just got himself scraped by a bullet. Enough to give him some pain and knock him out. If they had you on their hands, they probably didn’t pay attention to what happened to him.”
Hope sprang up in her. She pressed her lips together and blinked back tears of relief. Who better to know these things than Tyler? Like it or not, he would understand the inside workings of a gang, their weak points and strengths. She drew in a shaky breath. “What do you know about God?”
Tyler hunkered down. “Know He’s here, even now. I see Him everywhere. All the time. In the beauty of the mountains. In the timidness of the sheep, His creation, and what we are to Him if we follow His ways. I didn’t see it at first, mind you, but I expect Rich knew I would eventually. You can’t help but acknowledge there’s a God when you’re up here.”
She’d seen it, too. It was as if God Himself was reflected in the heights of the Big Horn Mountains. The trees. The grassy patches. Even the wild animals. Fierceness contrasted against wild beauty. Her eyes slid over Tyler. Here was a man who had been fierce and unruly at one time and had grown to become someone different. She wondered if he was aware of the change in himself.
Tyler sat back and stretched his legs out, the position he inevitably took while sitting at the fire. “I’m no preacher.” His soft voice crawled across the distance that separated them. “But I know I didn’t like who I was. Guess I knew that even when I was an outlaw.”
“Did you ever shoot anyone?”
“Never had a need to. Most saw you coming and figured whatever they had on ’em wasn’t worth their life.”
“They’ve shot people recently. Lots of people.”
He scra
tched the side of his cheek, the fire flickering red highlights in his tousled brown hair. “They got greedier. More aggressive. With all the patrols out here, it’s getting harder to pull a job.” He lifted his head. “Your pa must be missing you.”
The sudden shift in conversation jarred her less than the idea of her pa missing her. Could he miss her? “Thomas meant everything to him.”
Tyler picked up a stick and began breaking it into small pieces. “I think you’ve convinced yourself of that. It’s the burr under your saddle.”
Hot denial rose in her throat then sank down to the pit of her stomach like a rock.
“He must have loved your ma pretty powerful.”
“Then why doesn’t he hate Thomas? She died giving birth to him.”
He chuckled. “Don’t guess he looks like her. Or walks like her. Can’t you see how it could twist a knife in a man’s gut when there’s a constant reminder of what he’s lost?”
Warm wetness rolled down her cheek and landed salty on her lips and tongue. “I just wanted it to be like it was before she died.”
Tyler turned his eyes to the darkness beyond. “Death always changes things.”
twenty-two
Silence followed his last statement. He drew his attention back to Renee. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and the sight stirred an ache in him to cradle her close. Yet he had no right. No reason. But the desire burned in his chest and took him back to that one time he had held her. She’d been light in his arms. A soft warmth that left him bereft when they parted.
Over the last weeks, she had come to be a part of his routine, an essential part of camp life. He’d never felt so close to someone since Anna. Yet Renee had her own problems to resolve. Someone so young shouldn’t be saddled with someone like him. He had nothing to offer, and life on the mountains herding sheep, running from his past, was no life at all.
He exhaled sharply and threw the stick aside, the pieces scattering. He jammed a hand into the ground and pushed to his feet. “I’m going to. . .” He paused. She raised her head to look at him, and something hard lodged in his throat at the vulnerability in her eyes. “Check on Sassy.”
She nodded and scrubbed a hand over her face as she leaned forward. Her hair slipped around her shoulder, dark and rich. She reached for a spoon and stirred whatever it was in the pot. As if feeling his stare, she glanced up. Heat rose up his neck at having been caught.
“Tyler?”
He cleared his throat and pulled his hat lower over his eyes. “Yeah?”
“What was that book you wanted me to read?”
The image of the little lamb rose in his mind, transforming into a mane of dark hair, a pert nose, and. . . His cheeks puffed out on an exhale. He really needed to get a grip.
“Read?” He groped for the context of her question. The book. . . She was asking about the passage he had suggested she read. Maybe the Bible would provide her the same comfort it had given him. He certainly had nothing better to offer. “Psalms. Twenty-three. It’s about a shepherd.”
She nodded and got to her feet, light as a feather. Pushing aside the flap of the saddlebag, she found the small volume. She shot him a smile and made herself comfortable, using his bedroll as a brace against the rocks at her back. Her hands brushed over the delicate pages, turning them one by one.
Tyler realized she would have no idea where to find Psalms. He crossed to where she sat and crouched, lifting the book from her lap and turning the pages back from Malachi to the worn pages of Psalms. “Here.” He pointed.
Her finger grazed the edges of the pages, yellowed by his fingers and the passage of time. “You read these often.”
“I do. It’s. . .comforting.”
She raised her face, her nose inches from his, her gray eyes solemn and pleading. “Will you read it to me?”
He stopped breathing, wondering what her skin would feel like beneath his fingers. Her expression shifted, the corners of her eyes crinkling with amusement. He lowered himself to the ground and pulled the Bible onto his lap. “Guess I could do that.”
He forced his mind to ignore the woman next to him and fixate on the image of the little lamb. “ ‘The Lord is my Shepherd,’ ” he began. The Lord was Renee’s Shepherd as well. It was up to him to show her that.
❧
Renee listened to Tyler’s voice, the words, and the message. When he finished the chapter, he cleared his throat, hand resting on the open book. She admired his long fingers. There was strength in his hands. Tenderness for the sheep in his care, yet toughness, too, called upon when he had to set traps or take burrs from their wool or give gentle discipline to a straying sheep. “You’re a shepherd, what does it mean to you?”
He stared out into the night. She watched his face, set in profile against the firelight. Funny how she couldn’t imagine that face twisted into a cruel sneer or his words and actions rough and threatening, in keeping with the reputation of an outlaw.
“I try and supply the sheep with all that they need. I believe God is that way. He might not give us what we want, but He fills our needs, knowing what’s best. But just like Punky, we can think we know better sometimes.”
She grinned and wondered if he thought her a Punky. The wayward ewe could definitely be a problem, just as she had caused herself a heap of trouble.
Tyler continued, telling her of his scouting trip in the early spring before bringing the sheep into the mountains, when he assessed the places along the trail and removed overgrown shrubs. He often spent time damming a shallow stream to make a deep pool for the sheep to drink from en route to summer pasture, or clearing meadows of poisonous plants. “There’s a lot of work that goes into caring for the sheep ahead of time. God’s like that. He plans things out, knowing what we’re in for and smoothing the way. Sometimes we think it’s so hard or the way too tough, but He’s there.”
When silence fell between them, Renee placed her hand on his arm. She felt him tense, and when their eyes met, she caught the change in his expression. Saw him swallow. “You’re a good teacher,” she observed.
He acknowledged her comment with a slight nod. His gaze swept over her face, his eyes lingered on her lips, and then he jerked away as if stung by her presence. With a quick movement, he slapped the Bible shut and pushed to his feet. “Best go check on Sassy.”
“Yes, Tyler.” She smiled up at him, sure now that she’d seen something more than friendship in his eyes, and it gripped her with a desire for something more. “You better go check on the horse.”
She watched the vague outline of him as he gave Sassy grain and fiddled with the picket line. Tyler had wanted to kiss her. The thought, at least, had entered his mind; she was sure of it. How was it a former outlaw, a man who lived a wild, criminal life, could shy from her like a newborn lamb? His gaze had held her captive, too, for that long second when she understood the depth of respect and emotion his presence churned in her. The awakening both thrilled and scared her. She’d seen what he had become, his commitment to the sheep, the way he had forcibly redirected his life away from the irresponsible and dishonest tendencies of an outlaw.
Renee closed her eyes and curled into a ball, resting her forehead on her arms. If she tried, she could make him love her. Then, maybe, she’d finally feel safe.
twenty-three
Tyler stroked the horse’s flank, and Sassy bent her neck and dug her nose against his side. When he didn’t respond to the playful overture, the horse nibbled at his sleeve. But Tyler was in no mood for games. He’d almost kissed Renee. If she’d moved an inch in his direction, he might have, and that would have been disastrous.
Reading to her, he had hoped she might be coming to understand the importance of her actions to those around her. That bad choices often clung like a burr. Tyler sighed. Rich Morgan had probably held many of the same thoughts about him when he’d visited the sheep camp that first month.
He could love her. Maybe he already did love her, but it was too dangerous to love when Marv might be a step a
way, biding his time. Marv had a powerful motivation, and Renee knew nothing about it. It was better for her to go home. He needed a plan to get her away from here.
Tyler pushed at Sassy’s nose, and the horse nudged back. He leaned into Sassy and wished for the solace of the fire and his Bible. Renee’s presence seemed more threat than comfort now. Exhaustion punched him in the gut, and he moved, his limbs heavy, toward camp. Renee watched him in silence, yet he felt the weight of her expectation. He picked up a plate and drew in a breath before heading toward the fire and the pot of stew. Ladling some onto his plate, he took his seat a safe distance away and tried to ignore her presence altogether.
His whispered prayer for the food became a desperate plea for help. Spooning in his first bite, he rolled the broth and meat around on his tongue. Not bad. Her cooking had improved over the last week.
“How’d I do?”
The simple question held a note of vulnerability. In answer, he dipped his spoon for another bite. “Real good.”
“Did you love Anna?”
He frowned down at his plate, the bowl of his spoon sinking into the broth of the stew. Love Anna? Such a tough subject to talk about, and he was so tired. “Didn’t get the chance to love her.”
“But you cared for her.”
“I did,” he conceded, wary, weighing his words. “She was a good woman.” I could have loved her. If given time and under different circumstances, he would have married her.
He spooned another bite into his mouth, then another, and then decided he’d had enough. Rising, he met Renee as she jumped up to claim his plate.
“I’ll take care of these,” she assured.
Tyler nodded, grateful to be done for the day.
❧
Renee lay awake for a long time thinking about what he’d read to her from Psalms. She watched as the flames danced and twisted, high and hot, and then lowered as they licked through the supply of wood. She didn’t want to think about Tyler or Anna or her father or Thomas.
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