No Place for a Lady (Heart of the West Book #1): A Novel

by Brendan, Maggie

  It was strange lying here just a few feet away from Crystal and thinking about her, when he was about to be married to April. He knew that night when April insisted on kissing in the garden that there was nothing deep between them. McBride had made it apparent that he would help Luke acquire his property, but Luke was surprised that he would even let a mere foreman court his daughter, however strong willed she was. He struck Luke as a man looking out for himself, and Luke wondered what he hoped to gain.

  He was getting a headache just thinking about all of it. Time to get some sleep. He had second watch. He pulled his hat over his eyes to shut out the light of the campfire, lay back against his saddle, and crossed his arms. The familiar yet pleasant sounds of the night were vaguely comforting. There was a gentle breeze carrying the smell of Kurt’s cigar. Soon he was lulled to sleep by Kurt’s distant song:

  “Last night as I lay on the prairie,

  and gazed at the stars in the sky,

  I wondered if ever a cowboy

  would drift to that sweet by and by.

  Roll on, roll on,

  Roll on little doggies, roll on, roll on.

  Roll on, roll on,

  Roll on little doggies, roll on.”

  Crystal thought she was dreaming but groggily realized shouting had awakened her.

  “Miss Crystal! Here, put this slicker on. It looks like a hailstorm may be heading our way!” Jube shouted above the wind. “We’re gonna have to ride. Slim is saddling our mounts.”

  Crystal struggled to a sitting position. “What’s going on?”

  “The cattle got spooked with the lightning.”

  She snatched the slicker from his hands and felt the cold, pelting rain. She was wide awake now. She slammed her hat on her head and flattened the brim to keep the rain off.

  The campsite was bustling with activity, as all the cowboys, including the cook, staggered to their mounts. A jagged bolt of lightning lit up the dark sky. Slim hurried over with Crystal’s horse, Rebel.

  Slim swore under his breath. “The remuda has stampeded with’em! I barely managed to hold some back!” he hollered.

  Rebel reared and stomped his front hoofs, but she managed to drag herself onto him and followed Jube’s lead toward the now-stampeding cattle.

  “Crystal, stay left, on the outside flank, and out of harm’s way!” she heard Luke yell as he spurred his mount into action to catch up with the leader of the herd.

  Now hail as large as goose eggs pelted down with a vengeance. Crystal cried out in protest. She raised one hand for protection and held on to her saddle horn with the other. She winced as she felt the hail bite into her flesh. Thankfully she was astride Rebel, one of the best cutting horses from the remuda. She managed to ride faster than she had ever ridden in her life along the outside edge, keeping in check any yearling that had lost its mama, urging it and pressing it back with the gentle pressure of her knees against Rebel’s flanks. She was exhilarated with the excitement in spite of the danger.

  Kurt and the others were also riding flank, ignoring the slashing rain and hail and trying desperately to keep up with the bawling cattle to gain control. Cowboys whooped and yelled, “Yee ha!” They began waving their arms while pressing in on the right side of the stampeding cattle. Luke and Rusty, along with the other hired hands riding point, managed to turn the cattle back until they slowed and were forced into a circle.

  Almost as suddenly as it started, the hail stopped, but the rain continued to beat down.

  Given out and beaten down now after riding herd all day, the drovers slumped in the saddle, breathing a sigh of relief. It had been a long day, made worse with little sleep.

  Crystal could barely manage to make out Luke against the dark, rain-soaked sky. Curly rode up near her. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” She was not about to say she had multiple cuts on her arms. Together they slowed their pace and met up with Kurt and the other hands.

  Rusty barked orders. “Reckon I’ll meet up with Luke. Crystal, pull your bedroll up under the supply wagon outta the rain. We’ll assess the damage in the morning. I’m sure we’ve lost some. Curly, you go back with Crystal. The rest of you come with me.”

  The rain was letting up now, which Crystal was grateful for. Now that the stampede was over, fatigue overcame her. She was sore everywhere, not to mention the cuts from the hail on her forearms and hands. There hadn’t been time to don her gloves.

  What a long day. She was starting to wonder if she should have even come on this trail drive.

  She managed to remove the slicker and crawl under the wagon with a dry blanket. Right before she fell asleep, she heard Curly slip away to join the others.

  Carefully easing into the saddle the next morning, Crystal was acutely aware of how sore and stiff she was. Her chambray shirt was torn in several places from the pelting hail in spite of the slicker she’d worn last night. She had tried to get the tangles out of her hair and had smoothed it as best as she could to create a long braid that she could tuck under her hat.

  Breakfast had been a quiet affair with some of the cowboys still sleeping after being up most of the night. Others were wolfing down hot coffee and hardtack in a hurry to get back to the herd before they lost any more strays.

  Crystal watched Luke as he made his way toward her, slapping the dust off his gloves on his thigh as he walked. “Crystal, we lost about ten head last night that either were trampled or strayed away from the herd. Thought you would want to know.”

  She searched his clear blue eyes for clues as to how she measured up, but he just continued to look into hers.

  “Is that bad? Or is that a low number?”

  “Considering the stampede and that we got control pretty quick, I’d say that it’s a low number. At least Slim was able to round up all the remuda. We should be able to cross the Yampa River today if we make good time and don’t run into any trouble. From there we’ll pick up the trail once we cross the Colorado near Wolcott, through Bear Valley, and make our way on into Denver.”

  “Are you expecting any? Trouble, I mean?”

  “Ma’am, you have to be prepared for just about anything. But don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He tipped his hat to her and headed back to the open range.

  Crystal felt like a child who had just been dismissed. She wondered if more trouble had to do with wild animals. Of that she was very afraid. She rose from the tree stump that served as a seat and thrust her head back with a determined look. No matter, she would face every day trusting the Lord to guide her. He would meet whatever need she encountered.

  The day proved to be uneventful with the now-docile longhorns following the lead bull. By lunchtime they had covered a lot of miles, and Sourdough promised them a good stew and biscuits for supper. With mouths watering, the cowboys looked forward to supper time.

  The afternoon warmed up considerably. Crystal decided that she loved the low humidity and drank big gulps from her canteen as she looked out across the valley. It literally took her breath away each time she saw the Rockies. They looked invincible. Nothing in any book she’d ever read prepared her for their formidable beauty.

  With a sharp pang in her heart, she wished Kate were here with her. Crystal was beginning to love the ranch, and she certainly was not planning on selling it. She hoped that with the sale of the cattle she would be able to pay the drovers, Jim McBride, and Franklin’s Mercantile for the supplies that were purchased on credit. Then she would keep just the most needed cowboys.

  Curly trotted up to her, interrupting her reverie. “Miss Crystal, we are nearin’the Yampa River. You need to play it safe just in case the dogies decide to make a run for the water. They won’t let anything get in their way once they smell it. Make sure you’re near the back of the herd, you hear? Sourdough and the chuck wagon will cross over first with Luke so cookie can get set up.”

  She nodded her understanding and watched him turn his horse around and trot off toward the flank side. Quickly she reined her horse
around, cantered to the back, and rode drag with Kurt and Rusty.

  “This crossing can be tricky, but I’m sure that Luke has searched out the best spot to cross over,” Rusty said as Crystal reined in alongside him. They rode in companionable silence until Kurt slowed.

  “They must smell the Yampa River,” Kurt said. “They’re starting to turn toward the east.”

  “Keep your ropes handy, folks, just in case one of’em gets stuck in the rush to the other side.” Rusty wiped his brow with his bandana.

  Crystal looked ahead, and sure enough, the cattle picked up speed and turned east just as Kurt had said. Even on the valley floor, dust rolled up and formed a thick cloud, forcing them to pull their bandanas over their noses and mouths in order to breathe. Bawling and bellowing, the steers were in a race to see who could get to the river first. Unfortunately, the chuck wagon’s back wheels were stuck halfway in the riverbed, and Sourdough scrambled out into waist-deep water to try to lighten the load. He struggled to calm the now-exhausted horses, all the while keeping an eye on the cattle moving furiously toward the river.

  On the spur of the moment, Curly and his mount splashed into the fast-moving river to lend a hand. He reached down and hauled Sourdough to safety onto the river’s edge just as Luke scrambled to release the horses from their harnesses and slapped them on their haunches. They ran up the riverbank to safety.

  The longhorns entered the river with tremendous speed. In their haste, some trampled over others. The noise was deafening. Luke swung his lariat deftly overhead, looping it around the tongue of the chuck wagon. He urged his horse backward to pull the wagon out of the river, but it seemed immobile, stuck on the thick mud of the Yampa.

  Curly swung off his horse and ran to the back of the wagon, pushing with his upper body to aid in Luke’s efforts. Just as the wheels rose up out of the murky water, Curly tried to move out of the way of the oncoming cattle.

  Crystal, Kurt, and Rusty had just come upon the chaotic scene, and they watched in horror as the steer snagged Curly and pulled him under the water as other cows thundered into the river. Slim and other cowhands ran toward the edge of the river but could only stand by helplessly, some swearing, others mute with stricken faces.

  Crystal’s heart squeezed hard in her chest, and momentarily she held her breath. Tears left a trail as they spilled down her dusty cheeks. How had this happened? How could her sweet friend be snatched from her so quickly? Dear Lord, she prayed, but no other words would come.

  18

  Late that same afternoon, sunlight dappled the leaves, creating an intricate pattern on the hastily dug mound that held Curly’s body. The cowboys chose a hill not far from a cottonwood tree and, with hats in hand, paid their last respects to Curly. He had lived his short nineteen years in the truest sense of the word to the Code of the West. Those who knew him for his easygoing, cheerful nature had thought of him with much affection.

  Rusty began, “Curly was kindhearted. The kinda guy that took everything in stride. Always had a good word for you and always lent a helping hand, even when he had completed his own chores. He worked at the Bar Q up in Montana when he was barely fifteen before he came to work for us.” Rusty choked on his words and paused to clear his throat. He twisted his hat in his hands and continued, “He fit in well with our bunch, and we are really gonna miss him. Good-bye, my young friend.” With a shaking hand, Rusty wiped the tears from his eyes.

  The other cowboys were a solemn bunch. Crystal wondered if each one was thinking it could have just as easily been one of them. Some had tears in their eyes, others held back their real feelings.

  “Could I say something?” Crystal asked.

  Luke looked up with surprise on his face and nodded yes.

  “Curly and I were talking about the stars and how God had everything planned out perfectly. In light of my conversation with him, I’d like to read from the Bible, in his honor, if that’s okay.”

  When they had dragged Curly out of the river, Crystal had been so shaken that she’d had to pull away from the group to keep from caving in. While they dug his grave, she remembered her father’s worn Bible that she had packed in her saddlebags.

  “Go ahead.” Luke shifted from one boot to the other.

  Crystal opened her Bible and began to read from Psalm 8. “‘When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour. Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet: all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field; the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas. O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!’”

  Crystal looked up. “Curly became a good friend to me in a very short time and treated me with such respect these past couple of months. As the Scripture that I just read says, God cares for us more than all of creation. I know his soul is resting in heaven, though his body is here. I will miss him . . .” She bent down to place a handful of wild asters on the raw mound.

  “All I can add to that is, amen.” Rusty placed his hat on his head, signifying that the little ceremony was over.

  The cowboys began to head toward the direction of camp, talking in low voices. There would be no more work today, just night watch to maintain order of the now-docile herd.

  “Crystal, that was mighty thoughtful of you.” Rusty guided her by the elbow toward camp.

  “Oh, Rusty. What a terrible tragedy. Life can be so cruel.” Crystal wiped her nose with her soggy hankie.

  “Yes, it can. I’m glad Kate didn’t have to see that tragedy. She treated all the boys like her sons and hated to let any of them go during the winter months. Many times she had no choice.”

  “Well, one thing is certain. It makes us appreciate every day that we are given, doesn’t it?”

  Sourdough and the others had been able to retrieve most of what had been thrown from the wagon at the crossing in order to lighten the load. As Crystal neared the chuck wagon, she saw that Sourdough was already lighting the fires for supper. He was very subdued compared to his normal cheerful self.

  “Curly lost his life while saving mine.” Sourdough sighed.

  “Don’t blame yourself, Sourdough,” Crystal said softly. “You would have done the same for him.”

  “I’ll see to it that the men are fed and the fire is warm tonight. I owe that much to Curly.”

  Crystal reached out and patted the cookie’s shoulder. They were all hurting.

  There was an evening chill after the sun slid behind the majestic peaks that evening. Crystal drew her legs up close to her body and pulled the quilt up to her chin. She gazed into the glowing embers of the campfire and once again doubted whether she should even be here in the first place. Thinking of Curly’s death just naturally brought to mind Aunt Kate and her parents.

  Tears began to spill out of the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She knew God cared that her heart was hurting, but she felt the need of human contact. Someone who cared about the pain she was feeling. She was plagued with so many doubts. Doubts about her own future. Was she listening to God? Or was she doing things Crystal’s way? Maybe she should sell the ranch to McBride and be done with it. But then what was she to do? If she left now, she would be admitting defeat.

  “Cris . . . are you warm enough?” Luke whispered. He tenderly reached down and tucked the quilt tighter around Crystal’s shoulders. The use of a nickname was endearing to Crystal and made her heart lurch.

  “Sometimes the nights can get pretty cold, no matter what the daytime temperature is,” he said. She knew he must have heard her crying and was just trying to think of something to say to comfort her.

  Crystal sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “I’m colder inside right now than outside.”

>   “Know how you feel.” Luke eased his body down and sat on the ground next to Crystal.

  “How could you? I’ve just lost my aunt and not long ago my dear father,” Crystal blurted out, but she regretted saying it at once. That wasn’t nice, and you know it.

  Luke ignored her outburst and continued, his brow deeply furrowed. “Well, I lost my parents when I was young, but I still remember the feeling, and Kate was always like a mother to me. I loved her as if she was my mother. And now Curly. He was my friend too. But that happens sometimes on the trail. It just couldn’t be helped. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe I’m partly to blame. I should’ve watched out better for him.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she said. She leaned back and propped herself up on one elbow to stare into his eyes. “You can’t blame yourself. It was an awful accident. I guess you knew him a lot longer and better than I did.”

  “Yes, I did, and he had a way of getting under your skin. Once Curly and me were out hunting up strays, before the winter set in and we were holed up in a line shack. It was one of those early snowstorms that can come on you without much warning out here. We spent several evenings cozying up to a nice fire, with strong coffee and yarns for entertainment.” He paused, giving her a thoughtful look. “Aw . . . I’m boring you.”

  “No, please tell me more.” She snuggled further under the quilt.

  “Well,” he continued, “Curly told me about the time he was out searching for strays, and when he reached the top of a ridge, he looked down into the creek. He saw a beautiful young woman bathing.” Luke paused for impact. “He acted real quiet-like, so as not to let on he was watching. He was afraid to take his eyes off her because she was so beautiful. He wondered why she was in these parts so far away from anywhere,’cause he didn’t ever remember seeing her before. He had made up his mind that as soon as she finished her bathing, he’d wait till she got dressed. Then he’d make himself known and go down to the stream to introduce himself.”