She was right, it was mostly a deep scratch. The bleeding had already tapered off, and it didn’t look bad enough for stitches. He wiped away the blood with a clean bandage, then applied a healthy dose of salve.
His gaze flickered to her face, sinking into her blue eyes as they studied him. He swallowed, as much to draw moisture into his mouth as to focus on his task. “It would do best if it were wrapped.”
“I’ll do it.” She spoke quickly.
He glanced at the wound again. Even if she didn’t manage to secure a bandage around it, keeping salve on the wound should be enough for it to heal. And tomorrow he’d send her back to the ranch where Anna and Mama Sarita could look after her.
He should have known better than to let his guard down around those roughnecks. Grace had depended on him, and he’d let her down.
He couldn’t let that happen again.
Chapter Six
GRACE SLIPPED THE last button in place on her vest, then checked her holster again. She desperately hoped that was coffee she smelled, not just leftover wood smoke.
What a night. She’d not slept much after that blackguard attacked her. It had helped that Monty’d said he’d be right outside her tent if she needed him. Still, every time she’d closed her eyes, she saw the vile man’s greasy face or smelled his rank body odor. How could his touch be so permanently seared into her skin?
Pushing to her feet, Grace pulled the tent flap aside and stepped out. At least she had work to keep her mind and body occupied today.
Monty was crouched by the fire, talking with Carlos and Donato, but he rose when he saw her. He had a tin coffee cup in each hand, and stepped forward to offer one to her.
She took it in both hands, cupping her fingers around the warmth. “Exactly what I needed. Thanks.” She sipped the dark brew. Oh, was it good. A vast improvement over the stuff they’d had to drink the last two days. “This is better than usual.”
“Thanks.”
She looked up to find him watching her. “You made it?”
“I did.” The corners of his mouth played like he was trying to smile, but the creases under his eyes would have none of it. He looked…haggard. Which made him even more handsome, if that were possible.
Her eyes begged to look away, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “You don’t look so good. Are you all right this morning?” That wasn’t quite what she’d meant to say.
He quirked a brow. “You’re asking me if I’m all right?”
Heat seeped up her neck, and she glanced down into her coffee. “Anyway, thanks for the help last night.”
“I’m just sorry it happened.”
“Yeah, me too.” She kicked at a clump of dirt. But she was more than ready to forget about the attack. Leave the night behind them. Grace glanced toward the fire. “Anything for breakfast?”
Monty stepped aside, revealing a pot in the coals. “Warmed beans and leftover biscuits.”
She fought hard to keep her grimace from showing. One thing she’d never gotten use to was trail grub. The stuff got nastier the longer they were away. “Thanks.” She crouched down to fill a plate with beans. “Which way do you want me to head out today?”
“Back to the ranch.”
Jerking her gaze up to his, she almost fell back on her rear. “The round-up goes three more days. Why are we leaving early?” Surely it wasn’t because of the run-in last night. No rancher in his right mind would give up so many cattle because of an altercation with another ranch’s hired man.
“Not all of us.” His voice gentled a little, but there was a steel undertone to it. “Just you. Donato will ride back with you and pick up more supplies.”
She straightened as fast as her weary legs would lift her, pulling to her full height and squaring her shoulders. Unfortunately, she was still a good six inches shy of his large frame. “Why? I’m being punished because that scoundrel made trouble? I suppose you think I started the whole mess.”
“Grace. No, I…” He turned away, and she couldn’t read his expression. “You need to let your arm heal. Take a few days off.”
She stepped around so he had to look at her. “I’ve had deeper nicks from freeing a tangled calf. I’m fine.”
He didn’t answer, but he wouldn’t look her in the eyes either.
Frustration coursed through her. “What’s really the problem here, Monty? Have I not proven myself fit as a cowhand? You think I’m unreliable? A danger to the other men and animals?”
He turned back to the fire—away from Grace—and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Finally, he exhaled a long sigh. “I guess you can stay. But keep close to your partner and don’t wander off alone.”
She studied his profile. Why was that fiasco last night bothering him so? It was her life. Why should it affect his peace of mind? Unless he just wanted to get her out of his hair.
But something about the drawn expression on his face didn’t say frustration. More like…a mild version of torture. Should she push to understand why? Or leave him be? He’d said she could stay, so shouldn’t she leave well enough alone?
Stepping forward she rested her fingers on his arm. “Monty?”
He flinched, and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “What.” He looked like he might explode any moment.
Maybe best leave it be for now. “Who should I partner with today?”
That muscle in his jaw shifted again. “Donato.”
With that, she stepped back and retreated toward the horses.
But when she’d almost finished saddling her mare, she glanced back to the campfire. Monty stood rooted in the spot she’d left him, staring into the cooling ashes.
Her chest ached to go to him. To slip her arms around his waist and take comfort there—to give comfort. But instead, she picked up the bridle and fit it into Pepper’s mouth.
She had no business getting too close to anyone here. As much as she wanted to stay, if Leonard found her, she’d have no choice but to flee. And caring about the people from the Double Rocking B would only make things harder when she had to leave.
~ ~ ~
WHEN ROUND-UP FINALLY ended on Friday, Grace had never been so glad to see the grand log home and outbuildings of the Double Rocking B. She didn’t mind long days in the saddle, but she’d missed coming back to a soft bed every night.
Monty was kind enough to give the whole crew the day off on Saturday, and most of them—including Monty—headed into town.
But that was the last place Grace could go. She’d much rather be snuggled here in the rocking chair holding baby Martin, while Anna worked a puzzle on the side table with her daughter Emmaline. Anna, of course, wanted to know all the details of the run-in with that lout from the Lazy T.
When Grace finished the tale, Anna leaned back in her chair. “I’ll bet Monty was fit to be tied.” She gave a dry chuckle, but then her face sobered. “I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt. None of us would have forgiven ourselves, especially Monty.”
Grace studied Anna’s face as the other woman stared at the puzzle pieces. “Monty seems…protective.”
Anna glanced up. “That’s one way to put it.” She met Grace’s gaze. “I’m not sure if it came from losing his parents so young, or if the drive to protect was just born into him. As long as I’ve known Monty though, he’s been fiercely loyal. I think he takes a bit too much of the burden on his own shoulders, but there’s no way to stop him.”
A hint of a smile quirked one side of Anna’s mouth. “I think that’s why he was so upset when I hired you without seeking his opinion. He thought you’d somehow bring trouble to the ranch, and he hadn’t had the chance to properly determine your experience and background.”
Grace fought to keep her face impassive. Would Monty have ferreted out her secret if she’d spoken with him first? Or not even given her a second glance?
And what if she did bring danger to the ranch? Leonard could be so volatile, and if he found her here, he wouldn’t think twice of destroying anything in his path to
get what he sought. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, then glanced at Anna.
The other woman watched her, curiosity in her gaze, but concern too. “I think he’s settled into the idea of you working here. You’re on the inside now, part of those he’ll protect.”
That was the worst news Anna could have shared. Bumps broke out on Grace’s arms as an image of Leonard’s furious face filled her mind. He may not be as big and strong as Monty, but her step-brother would have no qualms about killing any man who got in the way. He’d already done it once, although she couldn’t prove it.
“Are you all right, Grace? You look a bit pale.”
Grace blinked and brought her focus back to Anna. “I’m fine.” She looked down at the baby sleeping in her lap. Even closed, Martin’s eyelids flickered as though some wild dream played behind them. Every so often, his mouth would pucker or his chubby little foot would kick. “He doesn’t stop moving does he?”
“Don’t I know it.”
Grace glanced up to share the smile in Anna’s tone.
The young mother gazed at the child with tired adoration. “He keeps me on my toes. It’ll be hard with Jacob gone on business to San Antonio next week. But at least I have Mama Sarita. She helps a lot.” The woman’s face perked. “And Bo. Did I tell you Monty’s brother, Bo, is bringing his family to see us for a few days?”
Grace raised her brows. “Really? Do they live nearby?”
“Two counties north of us. Bo works on a ranch up there, so we don’t get to see them much. Did you know Bo used to work here with Monty?”
Grace shook her head. So much new information today. Her picture of Monty shifted with each piece.
“Yes, Bo was here when I first came. Stayed for about five years after that, then set out to make his own way. I think he felt like he’d always be under Monty’s shadow if he stayed here. Anyway, he did well for himself. Worked up to foreman on the ranch he’s at now, found a wife, and now has two of the prettiest children you’ll ever see.” Anna tapped her own daughter’s chin. “Except for these two, of course. Emmy’s excited about Paul and Sandria coming, aren’t you, honey?”
Emmaline nodded and cut a shy smile at Grace. The child had been remarkably quiet through the whole conversation, maybe because she wasn’t comfortable in Grace’s presence yet. They’d have to work on that.
“Oh, Grace. I’ve been meaning to tell you. I went through my wardrobe and took out some dresses that I’ll never be able to wear again after having these two.” She nodded toward her children. “If you want to try them, you’re welcome to.”
Unease filtered through Grace as she eyed her shirtwaist and baggy trousers. “I did bring one dress, but I’ve been saving it for a special occasion. I’m sure you’d rather me wear skirts on my days off.”
Anna waved the comment away. “Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine around the ranch.” Her mouth pinched in a grin. “When you go to town, though, a skirt might be best if you don’t want the old ladies to swoon.”
And that, Grace definitely didn’t want. The less attention she drew to herself, the better. Of course, she wouldn’t be going to town at all if she could help it.
Chapter Seven
GRACE SLOSHED THROUGH the mud as she followed the rope to the calf on the ground. Georgina had pulled him from the thick mud, but he still wasn’t getting up. Maybe just worn out, but she needed to make sure. No mother cow hovered nearby. This must be one of the foundlings.
As the mist changed to a steady rain again, Grace pushed the dripping strands of hair from her face and crouched in front of the little fellow. It’d been raining for two days now. Nothing at all like the dry California desert. She loosened her rope and lifted it over the calf’s body. “Come on, fella. Let’s get you over to your friends where it’s not so muddy.”
She scrubbed the calf in a rough rubdown to get the blood flowing again, and it finally struggled to its feet. The little legs were shaky at first, but after a few steps, he trotted off to the herd.
Grace wiped the worst of the mud from her hands onto the grass, then straightened and trudged back to Georgina. As she stood by the horse, gathering the rope into even loops, Monty appeared through the fog and drizzle.
“Time to head in,” he called. “Let’s get out of this mess.”
She nodded. There wasn’t much she’d rather do right now than eat a warm dinner, or maybe take an even warmer bath. Lord willing.
Monty settled his horse into step beside hers as they rode toward the pack of soggy cowpunchers and the trail home.
When the ranch buildings came into sight, Juan and his stable boy, Chester, met them at the barn, taking horses and offering dry towels to the weary cow hands.
“Everyone clean up before you head in for dinner.” Monty shouted the command over the rain on the tin roof as he unsaddled his gelding.
A few of the men grumbled under their breath, but Grace couldn’t tell if it was from Monty’s words or the fact they were all muddy and miserable. Messy evenings like this seemed a good reason not to feed the cow punchers in the main house. But who was she to argue? Certainly not the boss’s daughter anymore.
After settling Georgina in the corral and drying her supplies, Grace made a run for the big house. Rain fell in big pellets, and her clothing that had dried in the barn soaked through again.
On the shelter of the porch, she eased off her hat so it didn’t drip water down her back, then tried to wipe the mud off her boots. There was no chance of it. She’d sunk to her ankles more times than she could count, and the sludge was impossible to scrape off. Mr. O’Brien was still gone on his business trip, so maybe it would be best to remove the boots on the porch. She could hurry upstairs. And even if someone saw her in her stockinged feet, it would only be the women or children.
After leaning against the log siding to remove her boots, she set them on the far corner of the porch. Maybe no one would notice them there.
With hat in hand, she opened the front door and tiptoed inside. She’d made it almost to the stairs when footsteps sounded on the landing above. She thought about ducking into a room, but held her ground. It would only be Anna or Mama Sarita.
But it wasn’t.
As she stood, soaked and disheveled at the bottom of the stairs, a man appeared at the top.
A man? Her heart kicked into a gallop and her muscles bunched to run. But he bore no resemblance to Leonard, more like the dark features of the cow hands she worked with every day.
He stopped when he saw her, then tilted his chin and raised a single brow. “Hello.” It was almost a question, and rightly so. He had to be wondering what a soaking wet woman was doing climbing the stairs in trousers and stockings. But who was he?
And then like a punch, his identity hit her. Monty’s brother. Anna said he’d be arriving with his family this week. Heat crept up her neck, and flooded her face. “Hello, I…uh…was just going to freshen up.”
His mouth quirked, and he stepped to the side of the upstairs landing, motioning for her to precede him. “By all means.”
Should she run for the kitchen? Or try to make it up the stairs—past Monty’s brother—and into her room, without him getting a close look at her bedraggled state. She didn’t have dry clothes in the kitchen, and the damage here was pretty much done. She might as well take the second option.
With her chin high and every bit of the regal bearing her mother tried to teach her, Grace ascended the stairs and swept past the man on the upper landing. When she made it inside her room—down the right hall and through the second door—Grace pressed the door closed and sank against it.
Company. Today of all days. When she dripped water like a drowned prairie dog and every muscle ached from fighting mud all day.
But she didn’t have time to stop. She’d be expected at dinner soon and she had a lot of cleaning up to do.
~ ~ ~
“HOW WAS THE ride in?” Monty clasped his brother’s hand in the front parlor.
“Wet.�
� Bo’s grin said maybe it had been worth it, though.
“No doubt.” He chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his sister-in-law’s cheek. “Good to see you, Miranda. Where’d you hide my niece and nephew?” But he needn’t have asked. Paul’s two-year-old voice rang through the house, rising over the sound of the cow hands filtering into the dining room.
Miranda offered a tight smile. “You get three guesses. Paul’s hard to lose with that loud voice.”
Anna, ever poised with her Southern belle charm, propped the baby on her hip and stepped forward to take Miranda’s elbow. “Dinner should be ready now. Let’s all head that way. I’m just sorry Jacob couldn’t be here to welcome y’all. We expect him back tomorrow, though.”
Monty fell into step with Bo behind the ladies, and eyed his brother as they headed toward the parlor doorway. “Looks like the northern counties have been good to you. Or maybe family life.”
A grin spread over Bo’s face and he dropped his voice, slowing as they neared the main hall. “Things are good, Monty. Real good. Miranda’s expecting again, too.”
The words punched like a right hook to his gut. He tried not to let the pain register on his face. Three children. Bo had a beautiful wife and soon to be three children, and Monty couldn’t find a woman to save his soul. What was wrong with him?
But he forced out the expected words. “That’s great, Bo. I’m real happy for you. You deserve it.” And Bo did deserve it. But that didn’t stop the loneliness from gripping his gut and twisting.
They rounded the corner into the long hallway that spanned the house from front to back, and a flash of blue on the stairs caught Monty’s attention.
A woman descended with all the regal airs of a princess.
Grace?
She wore a dress the color of a spring sky, with puffy layers cascading down the front and ruffled sleeves. And her hair… Styled up in a pouf on top of her head instead of the usual braid, it outlined the elegant length of her neck.
The Rancher Takes a Cowgirl Page 5
