“Yep, he’s a big help when I move ‘em from one pasture to another. It used to drive him crazy that I wouldn’t keep my horse inside the herd with the cows.” He gave a short chuckle. “Now he’s mellowed out some.”
Leah had never seen this side of Gideon. And she’d rarely heard him speak so many words in a full day, much less in one conversation. She wracked her brain to think of something to keep him talking. “He seems like a great ranch dog. Where did you get him?”
Gideon tossed the stem he’d been picking at. “Found him when he was a puppy on another ranch near Butte. A good dog’s almost as good as an extra man, especially on a small ranch like ours.”
They reached the barn, and Gideon held the door open for her. After they entered, he stepped forward and strode toward the huge mound of hay in the left corner. “I just need to fork hay to the outside horses, then I’ll bring in Bethany.”
True to his word, he returned soon with a spotted cow in tow. She wore a rope halter and plodded steadily, her heavy udder swinging with each step. Leah picked up the empty tin pail from beside the barn door and hobbled toward Bethany’s stall. On his way into the stall, Gideon grabbed a three-legged stool, then tied off the cow near the pile of hay and placed the stool next to her side.
Gideon met Leah at the stall door and took the pail from her hand. “It’s probably best you watch for now. It would be hard to sit on the low stool with your leg splinted. If she starts to move around you won’t be able to get back fast enough without getting hurt.”
Leah opened her mouth in protest, but swallowed the words before they made it out. She’d promised to obey orders. She closed her mouth, nodded, and moved to lean against the wall. She would watch for now, but couldn’t promise she’d be happy about it.
As Gideon settled into the comfortable rhythm of milking, it seemed her viewpoint really wasn’t that bad. She had the perfect angle to watch the muscles flex in his arms and shoulders as he moved. The thin cotton of his faded blue shirt hid little of his strength, sending a warm tingle in her midsection. Around him she felt… safe.
Chapter Eighteen
A yawn stretched Leah’s jaw as she fastened the last button at her neck. It was nice to have her bed back in her private room, across the hall from Miriam’s. She could almost hear the coffee calling from the kitchen, and for once she wished she’d not requested to take over breakfast duties. It would be nice to walk into the kitchen and smell the coffee already brewing, ham sizzling on the stove, and buttermilk biscuits rising in the oven. Well, the least she could do was have all those good smells ready when Miriam and Gideon came in from their chores.
Leah reached for the crutch and thumped her way into the main room of the cabin. Her right arm was thankful she only needed a single crutch these days.
By the time she had the biscuits in the oven and her first pan of ham sizzling on the stove, Miriam fluttered through the front door.
“G’morning,” she chirped, setting the bucket of milk and a basket on the table. “I think one of the hens is setting now, so we’ll have some biddies in a few weeks.”
Leah reached for the basket, and Miriam passed it to her. “Biddies?”
“Baby chicks.” Miriam hoisted the bucket of milk and moved over to the work table. “While I get this milk strained, can you fry up extra ham for lunch? Gideon and I will be out with the cattle today.”
“Of course.” Leah shifted her things to make room for Miriam. “Are you doing something special with them?”
Miriam shot her a rueful look. “It’s branding time. Gideon hired a boy from one of the other ranches to help us.”
“Branding time?”
“Yes, I hate this part. We catch all the new calves and put our brand on them, so folks know which ranch they belong to.”
“That sounds like work, but not so bad.”
Miriam wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t tell you how we put our brand on them. The boys have a metal poker in the shape of our brand. They heat it real hot over a fire, then press it into the cow’s hide.” She shivered, distaste souring her expression. “It’s hard to watch and smells awful.”
Leah felt the blood leave her face as she listened to the description. “Oh, that does sound terrible.”
The sound of the door opening interrupted their conversation. Miriam called out her usual welcome. “Hey, big brother.”
Leah turned to offer her own greeting, but froze at the sight before her. Gideon had just turned from the hat rack and was moving toward his chair at the table. At least she thought it was Gideon. The man before her had the same tall, muscled frame and the same piercing green eyes. But his face did not wear the mountain man beard she’d become so accustomed to. He was clean-shaven, with a square jaw, and his chiseled structure intensified the emerald of his eyes. Wow.
A jab in her ribs pulled Leah’s attention from the sight before her. She turned to find Miriam covering a snicker, and realized her own jaw was hanging slack. She snapped it closed and turned toward the skillet of ham, mortification floating up her neck. She hoped in spades Gideon hadn’t seen her gawking.
As she forked the fried ham onto a plate and placed freshly sliced chunks in the pan, Leah’s mind reviewed the brief image she’d seen of the man. Nice features was an understatement. Without the bushy beard, his face came alive, but she wished the image in her mind were sharper.
Throughout breakfast, Leah had trouble focusing on Miriam’s usual chatter. She stole regular glances at Gideon, taking in the finer details of his features. His jaw was square but his chin came to a strong point. His skin held a distinct difference in color between the tan around his eyes and the creamier shade of his lower face and neck. Her fingers itched to stroke his cheeks and see if there was a difference in the texture of the two colors.
But when she glanced at him and found his piercing green gaze watching her, Leah immediately dropped her eyes and pushed away from the table. “More coffee, anyone?”
She slipped the crutch under her arm and hobbled to the stove, returning with the coffee pot and making sure to keep her gaze far away from Gideon’s face.
“Thanks, Leah, but I could have got that for you.” Miriam offered a sweet smile as she refilled the cup in front of her.
“It’s no problem.”
When she turned to pour the hot liquid in Gideon’s cup, he placed a hand on top. “None for me. Gotta head out.” He wiped his mouth and rose from the chair. Leah couldn’t stop her gaze from rising with him. “Miri, make sure you bring a rifle. I’ll pick up Jim and meet you at the overlook.”
When the cabin door closed and the latch clicked, Leah heard a giggle behind her. She turned to find laughter dancing across Miriam’s face.
“What’s so funny?”
“He looks a lot better with a shave, doesn’t he?”
Leah shot her a disapproving look, hoping it would stop any further teasing. She stacked dishes from the table, while Miriam carried them over to the wash bucket.
“I’m still waiting for an answer, Leah dear.”
Leah found her most innocent voice. “And what was the question again?”
“He looks a lot better with a shave, doesn’t he? Gideon shaves about once a year when summer starts to get hot. I tell him every year he should get rid of that beard for good, but he won’t listen.” Her voice took on a suggestive tone. “Maybe he needs to hear it from someone other than me.”
“Well it’s certainly none of my business.” Leah hoped she didn’t sound like she was trying to convince herself. It was definitely time to change the subject. “Miriam, would you mind if I come out to watch you saddle your horse? I’d like to learn how.”
Miriam’s head snapped up from where she scraped a plate over the compost bucket. “You don’t know how to saddle a horse?”
Leah shrugged. “The groom always cared for my mare in Richmond. Nobody ever taught me how to do it myself. Ol’ Mose taught me how to harness his mules, but that’s all I know.”
Miriam gave
her a sympathetic look. “You poor dear. We’ll have to fix that now.”
~
Leah wiped the already-clean counter, just in case dust had settled when she’d loaded wood into the cook stove. She glanced around for something else that needed doing, but couldn’t find a thing. She sighed.
She’d been alone at the ranch all day, and had cleaned the cabin, forked hay into the empty stalls, picked vegetables from the garden, prepared beef crepes to fry for dinner, and made cinnamon rolls with sweet cream for dessert. The spicy aroma had toyed with her for the last hour, making her restlessness all the worse.
She glanced out the window, trying to gauge how far past noon the sun had moved. Miriam hadn’t said anything about them being out after dark, although Leah really didn’t know what would be involved with branding. Lord, please don’t let them be late.
Maybe now would be a good opportunity to catch-up on her journal writing. She usually tried to write weekly, logging the recent happenings and her thoughts about them. She grabbed her crutch and headed toward her room.
No sooner had she settled herself on her bed with the book and her fountain pen, splinted leg propped on the quilt, than a strange noise drifted from outside. It sounded almost like a flock of birds, or maybe the chickens. She placed her splinted leg on the floor, grabbed her crutch, and hobbled as quickly as she could out the front door.
The noise was definitely coming from the little shed that held the chickens, and stray feathers drifted through the cracks in the boards. What was in there? A fox? Her crutch would come in handy to scare it off.
The door was unlatched when she arrived, so she jerked it open and charged in, scanning the ground for a wiry red pest. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Leah found herself facing a man, knife poised over his head like an ancient warrior about to throw a javelin.
The glint in his eye and the leer on his face filled her with enough fear to paralyze. While the chickens squawked about in terror, the man advanced toward her, knife raised in attack position. The blade glittered in the sunlight filtering through cracks in the boards. He looked old enough to be her grandfather, with a scruffy beard, dirty clothes, and a floppy hat.
He spoke in a throaty growl. “Hold on there, missy. Looks like I found someone to cook my supper fer me.”
Leah didn’t move. What did he have planned? Her mind scrambled to find a way out of this. Away from this man. Could she lock him in the chicken coop and run for help?
He was close enough now to touch her, and he rested the tip of his knife at the base of her throat. She didn’t breathe, but the sharp metal burned against her skin.
He snickered. “Where’s yer menfolk?”
“Will…be…back.” She put great effort into not moving her throat as she spoke each word, so they came out in a hoarse whisper. He never lifted the point of the knife from her neck, and the sting became stronger.
“I reckon you’ll have time to fix me supper then, won’t you, darlin’?” When he spoke the last word, he reached behind her and patted her bottom.
Cold, steely fire flooded Leah’s veins. If he didn’t have a knife sticking in her neck, she would have taken him apart one joint at a time, right there in the chicken shed. No man had ever touched her in such a place, and this dirty vagabond was the last man she’d allow the right.
He seemed to sense her hatred, because his smirk dried up. His voice was rough when he spoke again. “Get on with ya and fix me some food. But jest know me and my knife’ll be with ya each step o’ the way.”
He pulled the blade away from her throat, but kept it hovering in front of himself like a barrier.
Leah turned away from the man and limped toward the house, as much to regroup her thoughts as to obey his demands. Who was he? Had Simon sent him? He didn’t look like a man her ex-fiancé would do business with, but could he be a hired kidnapper?
What was she going to do? It would be hours before Gideon came back. She racked her mind for any weapons that might be in the cabin. Gideon and Miriam had the only rifles she knew of. They did have a kitchen knife, but it was due a sharpening. Unless she could get the drop on this man, it would be no match to his razor-sharp blade.
If he wanted her to cook for him, was there a way she could poison him? Leah dwelt on that idea for a while, but couldn’t think of anything better than undercooked meat. And he’d surely notice that. Maybe she could get him near the fireplace and push him into the flame. Not to kill him, just injure him long enough for her to get the upper hand. She’d have to watch for an opportunity.
Inside the cabin, Leah stoked the fire in the cook stove, then heated grease in the frying pan for the beef crepes. While she worked, her assailant leaned against the wall in the little kitchen, his white knuckles revealing a firm grip on the long knife.
God, I really need you now. Leah sent up a steady prayer as she cooked. After a few minutes, the man seemed satisfied she wasn’t hiding a gun in one of the potato barrels, and meandered to sit in a kitchen chair.
Leah moistened her lips. She needed to know if this man was in Simon’s employ, or if he was just a good-for-nothing scoundrel.
She tried to keep her voice casual yet firm. “My family will be back any minute.” Despite her effort, the words quivered a bit. And he didn’t need to know Gideon and Miriam weren’t exactly family.
He gave her an evil smirk. “You better get cookin’ faster then, sweetheart, so I can eat up and have some fun before I’m on my way.”
The words triggered a shudder in Leah, but after she studied them for a moment, they were oddly comforting. It sounded like he was only a vagabond, planning to be off as soon as he’d gotten whatever he could from this place. She steeled her determination. She’d feed him because she had to. But she’d die before she’d let him do anything more than eat food. Lord, please help.
When the crepes were ready, she placed two on a plate and slid it to him. She kept her distance, watching for an escape. After he’d eaten two servings, the man sat back and rubbed his hand over the tattered shirt that almost covered his stomach. “I hope you’re as good at other things as ye are at cookin’.”
Leah inhaled, preparing herself for the next distraction. She pulled the tray of cinnamon rolls from where they’d been warming beside the stove.
“Would you like something sweet to finish with?” She forced sugar into her tone, so he wouldn’t suspect anything more than Southern hospitality.
His eyes shrank into a greedy squint. Leah forked three rolls onto a plate, then carried the dish close enough to slide it toward him, making sure to stay well out of reach. He scarfed the food, licking his grubby fingers but leaving a sticky mess in his beard. Leah fought the urge to wretch at the disgusting sight, but turned away to keep her composure.
“More coffee,” he barked.
Leah used her apron to protect her hand from the hot handle of the coffee pot. She limped toward the table and filled his empty mug with the brew.
Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed her right arm and jerked. The force knocked the coffee pot from her hand, sending it flying across the table. Her weak leg couldn’t support her resistance, and Leah found herself landing in the blackguard’s lap. Oh, God, please!
Chapter Nineteen
Leah pushed hard against the man, but his hands gripped her thigh and arm. She pulled his hair with one hand and pushed against his chest with the other. Using every ounce of strength she possessed, she forced her way out of his grasp. But her right leg wouldn’t bear her weight, and she couldn’t get her left leg under her before she went down on the floor in a heap.
The man was there in an instant, kneeling over her, pinning both arms to the wood floor. Leah struggled, trying to kick him. But he had the benefit of a better position.
A noise drifted into her subconscious. A man’s voice, far away? She screamed.
He swore, then bent low to push his elbow into Leah’s mouth. The stench of it—of him—convulsed her stomach. She was fighting for air n
ow, desperation clawing at her throat.
The words spewing out of the vile mouth above her only increased Leah’s temper. He glanced at his knife on the table. She forced herself to slow her fighting, but not stop altogether. If she could get him to reach for the knife, she could get enough leverage to escape his grasp. Maybe he would think the struggle had exhausted her.
He took the bait and reached for the knife, keeping one hand locked around her right wrist. Leah screamed with all her might and scrambled hard to scoot away.
The cabin door burst open, and the villain over her froze. A man, silhouetted in the door frame, held a gun pointed directly at the dirty bum.
“Freeze or I’ll blow yer brains out.” The voice was a hard growl, but held an undertone Leah recognized.
She took the opportunity to scoot backward, far away from her captor. As she moved, the light from the door shifted—and she recognized Ol’ Mose. Her heart overflowed with relief. God, thank you!
While Ol’ Mose kept the gun on the man, Leah hobbled to the barn to retrieve a rope. Bless Gideon, the rope was hanging on the barn wall just where she hoped it would be. The braided twine was heavy as she hauled it back to the house. Inside, she held it out to Ol’ Mose, but he jerked his head in the direction of the vagrant.
“You go ‘head an’ tie him while I keep this gun focused on his heart.”
Leah’s hands were shaking, as she moved behind the man. His body odor was enough to send her back outside, but she held her breath and set to work with the rope. When she’d tied the last knot, Leah backed away, her legs barely supporting her weight.
Ol’ Mose gave her a look, his eyes softening. “Miz Townsend, you go on and git yerself situated while I take care o’ this varmint.”
“Are you sure?”
He moved in, nudging her out of the way. “Sure as shootin’.”
The two men left the cabin, Ol’ Mose pushing the perpetrator with his gun and spewing a steady streaming of insults about the man’s character.
Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1 Page 13
