The sound of chairs scraping forced her attention up. The handful of cowpunchers who’d joined the evening meal were all shuffling toward the door.
She rose and fell into step behind Donato. She could already imagine the softness of her feather mattress and the cotton bed linens. Almost nothing stood between her and their warm comfort now. As soon as she made it up the stairs.
Gripping the bannister, she pulled herself up one step at a time, the pounding in her head ricocheting with each effort.
“Grace?”
She’d only made it to the fourth stair when Monty’s voice stopped her. Keeping her neck straight to minimize the pulsing, she eased around to face him. “Yes?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to take a walk. The weather’s nice out tonight.”
Walk? No, she wanted to collapse into soft oblivion. But she forced her mouth into something that might pass for a smile. “Is there something specific you wanted to discuss?”
He glanced down at his boots as they scuffed against the wooden floor. When he looked back up, he didn’t quite meet her gaze. “Nothing special. Just thought it might be nice to get out.”
A part of her wanted to say yes. Craved the chance to spend undivided time with him. But the throbbing working its way up her neck and pulsing through her skull kept her from agreeing. She wouldn’t be fit company. “I’d like to, Monty. But I’m not feeling very well tonight. I think I’d better go to bed.”
He studied her for a moment, then looked away. “Get some rest. Hope you feel better in the morning.”
She watched him turn and stride back toward the dining room. Something in her stomach tightened as he disappeared through the open doorway. She should have said yes. Should have jumped at the chance. But it was lost to her now.
Turning back to the stairs, she pulled herself up to the next step. Everything would be better after sleep.
She was just slipping her hands through the sleeves on her night dress when a soft knock sounded on her door. “Just a minute.” Pulling the worn cotton cloth down quickly, she grabbed her wrapper and padded to the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Anna.”
Grace pulled the door open a crack, enough to see Anna on the threshold, a worry line creasing her brow. She opened it wider. “Come in. Can I help with something?”
Anna slipped inside. “Monty said you were ill. Wanted me to come check on you.” She reached a hand to Grace’s forehead. “Are you feverish? You do look pale.”
Grace closed her eyes to soak in the human contact. How long had it been since someone had touched her, even in such a simple gesture? Not since Monty placed his hand atop hers those weeks ago. The memory of that sent a warmth through her chest. She forced it aside. “I’m all right. Just a headache. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”
Anna eyed her with a dubious expression. “Are you sure? Monty’s downstairs pacing a hole in my floor, he’s so worried about you. He took the baby from my arms and sent me straight up here.”
Grace fought to keep her jaw from dropping. “He did? I didn’t mean to worry him. It really is just a headache. He asked me on a walk, but I knew I wouldn’t be fit company tonight.”
The doubtful expression cleared from Anna’s face, replaced by raised brows. “Monty asked you to walk with him? Under the stars?”
She glanced toward the window, but couldn’t see anything besides the black of night. “I don’t know if there are stars out. I hope I didn’t upset him by saying no, I just…” A wave of exhaustion washed over her, culminating in a yawn too strong to hold back.
Anna stroked her shoulder. “Go to bed. Poor thing, you’ve been working too hard lately. I’ll tell Monty not to worry.”
Grace forced a smile. “Thank you.”
After Anna left, she moved to the wash basin and splashed water on her face. With the towel pressed against her eyes, she thought through Anna’s words. Monty had been so worried he’d sent the woman up to check on her. Was that normal for a boss? It seemed out of character for solid, stoic Monty. Could it possibly mean he…cared for her? That couldn’t be true, yet her skin still tingled with the memory of his touch. Had he felt the same?
But the bigger question—did she want him to? If Leonard found her trail and followed her here, she’d have no choice but to run. Monty could only be a memory at that point. She had to do her best to make sure it wasn’t a painful one.
For either of them.
~ ~ ~
THE RUMBLE OF thunder reverberated in the distance as the cattle pushed through the trail opening into the pasture ahead. Grace reined Pepper to the left to cut off several yearling cows trying to make an escape through the woods. “Get on, heifers. The grass is straight ahead.”
Just when she had them headed back to the herd, a spear of lightning lit the evening sky, followed by another loud crack. One of the cows darted sideways.
The coming storm had all the animals squirrely as jackrabbits. Even Pepper’s nerves were on edge as the mare wheeled sideways to catch the rogue cow. She was turning into a decent cow horse, although still not quite as solid as Georgina.
When they finally had the herd in the pasture, with all the stragglers out of the trees, Grace joined the cluster of cowboys by the trail head.
Monty raised his hat, swiped a sleeve across his forehead, then positioned the brim back in place. “I reckon’ they’re as settled as they’re gonna be until the storm passes. We can head in for the night.”
The group turned back to the trail through the woods, and rode in pairs to fit the width of the path. Grace glanced at Monty beside her. “You had a good idea to split the herd into smaller groups with the storm coming.”
He nodded. “Too many cattle in one spot makes a higher chance of stampede. I learned that lesson one too many times.”
She glanced at him with a raised brow. “Anything happen recently?”
“Not for several years. But there was one year we lost a third of our spring calves during a summer storm. Haven’t had a problem with it since we started splitting the herds into less than five hundred each.”
After a moment, he asked, “Did you have many stampedes with your father’s cattle?”
She thought back through the years. “One or two that I can remember. We didn’t get near as much rain as you do here, so the storms were mostly dry lightning. Mama never let me help during a stampede, though.” She cringed the moment the words left her mouth. She sounded like an adolescent school girl whose mother wouldn’t let her soil her shoes. “I was young at the time. We haven’t had a stampede for at least the last dozen years.”
They rode in silence for a while until the trail left the woods and opened into a different pasture, where another small herd of cattle grazed. Monty motioned to the cowpunchers circling the cattle and waved them toward the direction of home.
Lightning flashed again, followed closely by a crack of thunder. Monty looked back at the herd behind them and Grace followed his gaze. The cattle milled about, lowing occasionally in protest of the coming storm. Definitely not grazing quietly anymore.
“Do you think they’ll be all right?”
He took so long to answer, she wasn’t sure he heard. At last he sighed. “I hope so. I don’t want to keep the boys out in this storm, though. Not much I could do if I stay by myself. We’ll hear ‘em if they start to run.”
Grace nibbled her lower lip. She wouldn’t mind staying to help. But the two of them would be close to helpless if the herd decided to stampede.
Still… “I’ll stay out here, Monty, if you think it would help.”
He cut her a glance. But as he opened his mouth to answer, another crash rent the air, flooding the stormy sky with light and thunderous sound.
As the light died away, the rumble of thunder reverberated, growing in volume with each second. Grace spun her horse along with the rest of the men, an icy dread filling her chest.
A stampede.
Chapter Twelve
THE SIGHT OF the massive herd galloping—gathering momentum like water over a fall—was enough to freeze any sane person. Their power would have been magnificent if it weren’t so deadly.
She plunged her heels into Pepper’s sides, spurring the mare into a hard run. Wired as the horse was from the storm and the roar of thousands of hooves, it took her only seconds to stretch into long, ground-covering strides. With a shaky hand, Grace reached for the revolver at her hip.
The men all raced the same direction. If someone could get to the front of the herd and fire some shots, they had a chance to slow the out-of-control longhorns.
They had to.
If this group made it to the next pasture where another herd grazed, the size of the stampede would double. And with it, the number of animals lost.
As the surging mass neared the pass between two sections of trees, Grace pushed her mare harder. The front of the pack was less than thirty feet ahead of her. If she could just gain more ground…
A shot split the air. Wild cries from cattle almost deafened.
More gunfire. The frantic whinny of a horse.
Shouts from the men.
And then the roar of hooves died away.
Grace reined Pepper down to a walk as she approached the front of the herd, the animals now milling in frantic circles.
“Spread out around them.” Monty’s voice rose above the bellows of the cattle.
Grace glanced at the positions of the other men. Dusk was taking over quickly, and she had to squint to see the far side of the herd. Keeping Pepper at a walk so as not to upset the longhorns any more, she circled to the right.
The rain came less than a quarter hour later, but it seemed to chase the lightning away. For another quarter hour, they could see quick bursts of light in the distance, far enough away the thunder simmered in a low rumble.
She’d never been so happy to be wet, guarding her post in the torrent of rain while the cattle braced themselves against the pelting drops.
Monty rode by a few minutes later. “Gonna check the stampede path. See if there’s any animals we can save.”
“Shall I come help?” She called loud enough to be heard over the din.
He didn’t look back, but waved her forward.
As she neared the rear of the herd, spots of dark littered the ground through the torrential downpour. Monty was already crouched next to one form. Grace reined Pepper at another and slid to the ground.
A brown and white spotted calf. The unnatural position of its neck told a quick tale of its fate. She turned away, moving on to the next figure.
This one was alive, but just barely. Hoof marks marred the wet hair along its abdomen. Most likely a lung had been crushed in the trample of the stampede. These poor calves just weren’t big enough or strong enough to keep up with the herd in full distress.
And so it went, calf after calf. Somewhere along the way, Grace’s tears began to mingle with the rain on her cheeks. So much destruction. So many innocent little lives.
She knelt beside a black calf, this one still moving. It looked to be several months old, and tried to raise its head. “Hey there.” She stroked the wet neck. “What’s wrong with you?”
The calf struggled again and finally sat up. She rubbed its neck, then ran her hands over the angular body. Nothing she could see looked broken. Both nostrils flared with steady breathing. Was there a chance this one might be all right? Maybe she’d just been stunned by a blow to the head.
She rubbed the calf’s body in a circular motion, forcing life-restoring blood to pump through all its limbs. After a few moments of this, the calf extended a hoof, then tried to push up to its feet.
“Thatta girl.” Grace moved behind the animal to help push it up.
The front legs seemed to work, but the rear legs just wouldn’t unfold. The calf sank back to the ground, but the flame of hope grew brighter in Grace. “You almost did it, sweet one. Let’s try again.”
She scrubbed the calf’s hindquarters, and it positioned its front feet for another try. This time, the back legs worked a little better, although they struggled to hold the weight of the animal. Grace braced it on both sides to help balance. “You did it.”
Little by little, she loosened her hold until the calf stood by its own strength. She kept a hand on its neck, stroking. “I think you’re gonna make it, girl. What say we get you to your mama? Think you can walk?”
With gentle proddings, the animal took a few shaky baby steps, just like a newborn. This girl must have been knocked completely senseless. After several strides, its gait became steady and picked up speed, although it still allowed Grace to guide with one hand on the rump and another at the chest.
When they reached the herd, the calf let out a loud bawl. Several cows answered, but one call rose above the rest. Grace straightened and smiled as the calf trotted forward to meet its eager mother.
While she watched the pair through the near darkness, a touch settled on her shoulder. She tensed and glanced up, her muscles preparing to flee.
But Monty’s kind eyes met her gaze, and she relaxed into them. He looked at the calf, and Grace turned back to follow his gaze.
“You did good with her.” His voice was close to her ear, intimate through the sound of the rain.
She glanced up at him. His eyes glimmered so weary, burdened. “How many did we lose?”
“Twenty-one.” The grief in his voice matched that in her soul. “That heifer’s the only one that survived.” He nodded toward the black calf, hungrily nursing from its mother. “I’m glad you saved her.”
She couldn’t stop herself from watching him—his profile, as he stared at the herd before them. His hand still lingered warm on her shoulder. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his hat, and rivulets of rain streamed down the strong planes of his face.
He turned to look at her then, those dark eyes conveying a message she couldn’t quite decipher. But it made her breath catch. He was so close, only a couple feet away. His hand lifted from her shoulder and trailed up to her cheek, brushing back a soggy strand of hair that clung to her skin. “Have I told you how thankful I am for you?”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
“I need to get you in out of the rain.” His voice rumbled deeper than usual. His thumb stroked her cheek and she leaned into the touch. If he kissed her right now, there wasn’t a chance she’d stop him.
Her eyes wandered down to his lips. She’d never realized how full they were. Never seen them this close. She forced her focus back up to his.
His gaze flickered, penetrating hers. Asking.
He must have found his answer, for he came closer. Closer. Those full lips found hers in gentle touch, a warm connection. Sweet honey.
As he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, and she could only stare at him, the wonder of the kiss clouding her mind.
His hand slipped from her face, stroking down her arm and leaving a trail of fire everywhere it touched. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get home.”
~ ~ ~
MONTY COULD BARELY see Grace’s outline as the group of weary cowpunchers rode home in the dark, yet he couldn’t pull his focus from her. His fingers still ached with the softness of her cheek, cold and wet from the rain.
And the way she’d looked at him, it heated him to the core. He’d certainly not planned to kiss her. Not out in the rain, after the terror of the stampede and the devastation of so many promising calves.
But the moment he’d touched her, a connection pulsed through him. He’d barely made his decision, but she already had his heart, his head, and every part of him. Did she possibly feel even a little of the same? If that kiss were any sign, she felt something.
Soon, he had to get her alone. Just the two of them where they could really talk. Not out in the rain with the rest of the men close enough to interrupt. His mouth pinched. Had the boys seen that kiss? Between the darkness and the rain, it had felt like only the two of them existed
in all of Texas.
But if they’d been observed, so much the better. He’d be staking his claim soon enough anyway.
~ ~ ~
ON SATURDAY MORNING, Grace jogged down the stairs as the breakfast smells filled the air. She honed in on one particular aroma. Coffee.
The front door opened at the end of the hall, and Monty stepped inside. With the daylight streaming from behind him, she could see only the outline of his profile. Yet what a profile it was. He held more strength in those broad shoulders than the rest of the men put together.
As he closed the door and hung his hat on the wall peg, his face came into focus—along with that hint of a smile that pulled more on one side than the other.
It made her stomach flip every time. They’d not been alone for more than a minute since that kiss the night of the stampede, but the looks Monty sent her when the others weren’t looking… Too bad she’d not taken him up on that walk last Sunday. But maybe he’d ask again. Soon.
“Morning.” He stepped closer.
“Good morning.” She should turn and walk toward the dining room, but something about his expression had her rooted in her tracks. What else could she say that wouldn’t sound senseless? “Thanks again for the day off today.”
A twinkle flickered in his eyes. “You’re welcome. I’m headed into town this morning to drop off some things for Jacob. Would you like to ride along? I need to pick up supplies too, so I’ll have the wagon. I can treat you to a real sit-down dinner at the Magnolia.”
Her stomach flipped again, and the flutter moved up to her chest. A whole day? Just the two of them? Sounded like heaven.
But town? That familiar tightness found her shoulders and neck. Did she dare chance a trip to town where so many people would see her? So far she’d been able to avoid it. But there’d not been any sign of danger either. No evidence of Leonard. And how long had it been since she escaped California? Five months. Surely after five months, his anger had died down. His desire to steal what was hers.
The Rancher Takes a Cowgirl Page 9
