“And now?” he asked. “Will you regret tonight?”
“I can’t predict the future,” she said, “but I can’t see how.”
Slated sat up, drawing the quilt over her shoulders. “I think about the future, and I get a sense of panic. I have nothing to offer you,” he said. “I’m in debt to Hook’em. Your hands aren’t exactly thrilled to have me around. The only person who seems glad to see me is that pretty little girl of yours.”
“And Joker,” Cassidy added with a smile.
“He’s going to make a fine horse,” Slate said. “Tomorrow—”
He broke off at the sound of a shrill whinny coming from the makeshift corral. Hooves echoed against rock as the herd began to run.
“I’ll find out what’s going on,” he said, pulling on his pants and boots.
The hoarse cry of the stallion rang out in the night, clear and furious.
Cassidy dressed, her heart thumping in her chest. “Mountain lion?” she asked, though it would be odd for one of the predators to take on a herd with humans so close. “There’s a rifle in the truck, and a pistol under the seat.”
Slate ran to the truck. When he came back, he offered the handgun to her. “Stay here, by the fire.”
“Slate, I—”
“By the fire. I have to know where you are, in case I have to shoot. I won’t risk hitting you.”
She took the gun he offered. “Okay,” she said, her fear growing as the sound of panic in the gulch increased. Several of the mares cried out in fear.
Slate snatched up his shirt and hurried down the steep incline toward the edge of the bluff. As he disappeared, Cassidy forced her own fear down. This was the time for careful thought, for control and reason. She dressed hurriedly. If it was a mountain lion, Slate would handle it. He’d grown up ranching.
And if it was something else?
“Stop!” Slate’s voice rose over the confusion of the horses. “Stop!”
A shot rang out on the velvety night air.
Cassidy finished buttoning her blouse. She knew what she needed to do. She killed the campfire, then ran to the truck. Without giving herself time to reconsider, she turned on the ignition and drove back the way she’d come, finally circling so that her headlights illuminated the opening of the gulch.
She heard her sharp intake of breath as her mind registered what her eyes saw. The trees and limbs that she and Slate had dragged to seal off the opening had been moved aside. In the glare of the headlights, she watched the panicked horses racing around the enclosure. She saw Joker register the route to freedom, and with teeth bared, he pushed the band of mares toward it, driving them past the truck and into the night.
Cassidy made no effort to stop them. It would be futile, and possibly only spook them more. Before the dust had settled, she saw Slate walking toward her.
“Are you okay?” she called out.
Slate nodded. “I saw someone spooking the herd. He was right in the middle of the horses, driving them through the opening. I tried to frighten them back into the enclosure by firing the gun, but it didn’t work. The son of a bitch got away.”
“Get in!” she said.
He responded to the urgency in her voice. Before he closed the door, she stepped on the gas.
“It’s a long shot, but the mares may lead Joker back to the Double O,” she said, hoping that the ten mares would remember the barn with the grain and alfalfa. “They were headed in that direction.”
“Go!” Slate urged her. “It’s worth a shot.”
Cassidy needed no more encouragement. She pressed the truck up to fifty and they rocked and careered down the almost nonexistent road toward home.
SLATE HELD THE RIFLE loosely in his grip and wondered at the rage that had threatened to overwhelm him in the small arroyo. Someone had deliberately set the horses free. Someone he should have noticed. The horses were running wild because of his carelessness.
As much as he was troubled by his neglect, it was his rage that concerned him. In prison, he’d been confronted with plenty of situations where he could have let his anger rule him, but he’d never even come close. He was the man who was always in complete control of his emotions. Or so he’d thought.
Had he been able to catch the person responsible for setting Joker free, Slate had the terrible feeling that he might have shot him. And asked questions later.
That he could be provoked to violence left Slate with gnawing self-doubt. During the five long years in prison, he believed in his innocence because he was not a man to commit rash actions. His cool, calm approach to danger was one of the few things he knew about himself, since he couldn’t remember his past.
But the events that had just transpired proved that he wasn’t nearly as in control as he’d assumed.
Perhaps his mother’s illness, her desperation to hold on to the land—all things that Hook’em had told him about—had pushed him over the edge. It was possible that he had gone into Comfort Ranch Bank with the intention of robbing it. Cassidy’s voice pulled him out of the slough of painful introspection.
“Did you see the person who let the horses out?” she asked, her words tense and clipped as she concentrated on keeping the truck upright.
“He was gone before I got there.” Slate had a few solid ideas, though. He’d go back to the arroyo in the morning and search for the evidence.
Dawn was already breaking as the truck slewed in loose rock and swung east. The sky had lightened, and the first pink tint was teasing the horizon. He and Cassidy had been awake most of the night, he realized, and he was struck with another painful thought. He’d asked her about regrets because he had a few. But those were issues he’d have to confront once Joker was safe.
“Look,” he said, pointing ahead.
The truck was on a smooth piece of ground, and Cassidy pressed the accelerator. She, too, saw the faint remnants of dust that indicated the herd had recently gone that way. They were indeed headed for the Double O.
“Where will the mares most likely go?” Slate asked. The layout of the ranch was clear in his mind.
“If we’re lucky, they’ll go to the barn where the weanlings are,” Cassidy said. “They can run straight through and there’s good pasture beyond that.” She blew out a breath. “Once they’re in the pasture, we can easily close the barn doors.”
Slate nodded. It was the best possible place, and the most logical. Some of the mares Cassidy had brought for Joker had recently weaned young ones.
The truck topped a small rise, and Slate caught sight of the herd. They were running wide open some six hundred yards ahead. The dark gray mare Slate recognized as the dominant female was in the lead, and Joker was driving the slower horses to keep up. He felt the truck slow and realized that Cassidy, too, was spellbound by the incredible sight of the horses running wild. In the distance, the steel roofs of the Double O glinted in the rising sun.
Cassidy recovered quickly and aimed the truck for the ranch as Slate tried to figure out the possible scenarios they would face in a matter of moments.
The dust was still thick as the truck flew into the driveway of the ranch. The horses were running at full tilt, and Slate began to worry that the fences would not be able to hold them. Serious injuries could occur—to a horse or any luckless human who stepped in the way.
As the truck whizzed past the bunkhouse, Slate saw that the thunder of hooves had alerted the hands. They were pouring out of the bunkhouse as they buttoned shirts and rubbed sleepy eyes. Only one of them, Lucky Hill, was fully dressed and completely alert. Lucky also did not look happy about the turn of events. Slate made a note to remember that. Lucky was racking up a lot of negatives in his book of suspicions.
“They went to the weaning barn,” Cassidy said, relief in every word. Even her hands on the truck wheel relaxed slightly as she pulled to the front of the big barn.
Slate was out of the truck before it had come to a halt, and he dashed into the barn. He was just in time to see the horses slide to a stop
at the far fence. They milled for a moment, uncertain what to do. Trumpeting a cry, Joker headed back toward the barn at a wide-open gallop.
“Slate!”
He heard Cassidy’s warning cry. There was no time to shut the barn doors. He could step aside and let Joker escape, or he could hold his ground.
He had not worked with the stallion long enough to know what the horse would do. Still, there was no other choice. He spread his hands wide and stood tall. “Easy there,” he said loudly while keeping his voice friendly. “Easy there, fella.”
Joker’s legs churned so hard the dust boiled beneath the huge bay horse. His head was up, his ears forward and his nostrils flared so that Slate could see the red lining.
“Hold steady,” he said to the charging horse. “Easy, there.”
Joker closed the distance to ten yards before he sat back on his haunches and skidded to a halt, his chest only inches from Slate’s body.
“Holy Christmas,” Cassidy whispered, leaning against the side of the barn as her legs nearly gave out on her. “Slate, you could have been killed!”
The stallion stood trembling before him, sweat and dirt caked on his neck and chest. Slate eased a hand out to pat his shoulder and felt the skin twitch beneath it. “That’s a boy,” he said softly. “That’s a good boy.”
Cassidy moved carefully toward the barn doors and pulled them shut.
“What about the fences?” Slate asked loud enough for her to hear.
“They’re solid. We redid them last month.”
“Water?”
“There’re two troughs,” Cassidy answered, her voice sounding stronger and firmer.
“Hay?”
“I’ll have Danny put four bales of alfalfa in here with them.”
“There’s plenty of grass, but the alfalfa will help.” Slate stepped back from Joker. The horse stared at him as if he meant to read the human’s intentions in his eyes. When Joker was satisfied, he snorted and trotted back to the mares, who’d already settled down to grazing.
Slate walked over to Cassidy. “Now that we’ve got him here at the ranch, work will progress much faster.” Beneath the immediate worry of the moment, Slate could see her satisfaction. Joker was home at the Double O.
“You could have given us some warning.” Lucky Hill’s voice came from the fence beside the barn, and Slate and Cassidy turned to face him.
Slate saw the muscle in Lucky’s jaw twitch and his light eyes were cold with anger.
“We didn’t bring them in,” Cassidy said, her back straightening as she spoke. “Someone set them free.”
“That horse is dangerous. He would have killed anyone in his path.” Lucky’s words were hot.
“But he didn’t. He’s not your concern, Lucky,” Cassidy answered quickly.
“When someone gets hurt, you remember that I tried to warn you.” Lucky pushed off the fence and walked away.
CASSIDY PUT THE PLATE of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Lindsey and sat down beside her. “You can’t go out until you eat breakfast,” she told the little girl.
Lindsey squirmed in her chair. “Joker’s here,” she said, eyeing her eggs with frustration.
News of the stallion had traveled fast. As Cassidy caught sight of the silver-and-red dual pickup pulling up to the house, she realized how fast.
Nita, purse in hand, entered the kitchen just as Cole’s knock came at the back door.
“This looks like the happening place to be,” Nita said, stroking Lindsey’s head, “but if I don’t go into town and buy some groceries, we won’t have dinner tonight.”
“Kip gave you his list?” Cassidy asked as she rose and went to open the back door.
“I’ve got the list. Anything you need?”
Cassidy shook her head. “No, thanks. Cole, you want some breakfast?” She motioned him into the kitchen.
Cole Benson stepped inside, took off his hat and ran his hand through light brown hair. “Eggs sound good.”
Cassidy went to the stove, casting a questioning eye on Lindsey. The little girl had turned her gaze on her plate and was suddenly very busy shoveling eggs into her mouth. “Slow down, sweetie.”
Cole took a seat at the table where he could watch Cassidy at the stove. “It’s a beautiful morning.”
“It’s going to be hot.” She beat the eggs she’d just cracked and poured them into the pan. Moving briskly, she put bread in the toaster.
“I hear you had quite a night.”
Cassidy didn’t miss a beat, but she felt the heat in her neck and cheeks as Cole’s words brought back a vivid tactile memory of her hours with Slate. But, of course, Cole was talking about Joker. “News travels fast around here.”
“That stallion has been a thorn in my flesh. I’ve offered a bounty on him, so there were several folks disappointed that you got him before they did. I’d feel a lot better if he had a bullet between his ears.”
Cassidy moved the eggs from the pan to a plate and picked up the toast as it popped up. She put the plate in front of Cole and turned to get a cup of coffee. There was no point in getting into an argument with Cole over the bounty. Joker was safely on her property. Still, the idea irked her, and she did her best to keep her expression pleasant.
“Joker’s mine now. He won’t be a problem to anyone else.”
“I hope you don’t have to eat your words,” he said carefully.
Lindsey slammed her fork down on the table, blue eyes narrowed with anger. She looked directly at Cole. “You don’t like Joker, and I don’t like you!” She pushed her plate back, the eggs obediently eaten. “Mama, can I go outside?”
Cassidy was startled at her daughter’s outburst. Lindsey was a sunny child. “Lindsey, you can’t talk to Cole that way. Apologize, and then you can go outside.” She kept her voice calm and knelt beside her daughter, putting a hand on her slender back.
“I don’t like him.” Lindsey cast hard blue eyes on the man sitting with his breakfast untouched.
“Apologize.” Cassidy held her ground. She didn’t blame Lindsey, but her daughter had to learn not to yield to outbursts.
“No!”
Lindsey dodged around the table and bolted for the door. It took Cassidy a second to realize that she was running out of the house.
“Lindsey O’Neal!” Cassidy turned to Cole. “Please, eat your breakfast I need to have a talk with my daughter.”
She didn’t wait; she was out the door and after the fouryear-old, who was running for all her worth toward the weanling barn and the stallion.
Cassidy lengthened her stride, wondering how she should handle the situation. Cole’s talk of killing Joker was wrong, but Lindsey had to learn how to temper her own reaction. She didn’t blame her daughter for getting mad. Cole’s words had angered her. Still, Lindsey had to learn to mind.
Cassidy continued toward the weanling barn, determining which course to take with her daughter. She was going to give her daughter a hug and tell her not to repeat her behavior. That would be the end of it. Cole was just as much at fault as Lindsey.
She entered the barn and halted. She’d expected to see Lindsey at the doors, peeping out at the horses. There was no sign of her little girl. “Lindsey?”
Her only answer was the neighing of two of the young horses. Out in the pasture, a mare answered, and there was the sound of hooves approaching the barn. The mares with weanlings in the barn would have to be rotated out of Joker’s herd. She made a mental note of it and moved on to hunt for Lindsey.
As she started to leave, she noticed the door to one of the empty stalls was ajar. She walked in, but the stall was empty. A shaft of light showed her that the window had been opened, though. She walked to it, reaching out to catch the shutter and pull it closed. An unexpected movement caught her attention. Lindsey was in the middle of the pasture walking determinedly toward the stallion, who had not yet noticed her.
Cassidy felt as if time froze. She scrabbled up the side of the stall, climbed through the window and dropped
down on the other side. Moving slowly, she started across the open field after her daughter. The most important thing, she knew, was not to spook the herd.
“Lindsey,” she called softly.
The child turned and faced her mother. “I don’t like him and I won’t apologize!” She started toward the herd again.
Cassidy felt her heart pounding hard in her chest. Joker had spotted them, and he was watching with interest. Lindsey’s outburst, her emotion, had registered with the stallion. It was very likely that he would interpret that emotion as a danger to his herd.
“Lindsey, don’t go any closer,” Cassidy said, her voice easy and soft. “Stop right there and I’ll come and get you.”
“You think he’ll hurt me, but he won’t. I’ll show you.” Lindsey walked fearlessly toward the stud, who was tossing his head and dividing his attention between the herd and the little girl who approached him.
“Lindsey!” Cassidy couldn’t stop the panic in her voice.
Joker’s reaction was instant. He whirled and reared, his front legs striking the air. It was the stallion’s challenge to danger.
Cassidy ran—she put everything she had into a burst of speed that carried her to her daughter. Scooping the little girl into her arms, she veered right and started back toward the safety of the fence. But even as she ran, she knew it was impossibly far. Beneath her feet the ground shook as Joker charged after her.
Cassidy stumbled, and she felt herself going down. She hit hard, on her side, and then rolled her body over Lindsey’s as the shadow of the stallion blotted out the early morning sun. Even as she watched, he rose straight on his hind legs, prepared to come down on top of her.
“Mama!” Lindsey pushed at her. “Mama!” Wiggling with all of her might, she managed to push partially free of Cassidy’s body.
“It’s okay,” she said to Joker. Evading Cassidy’s attempts to keep her covered, Lindsey held out a hand to the horse. Joker settled onto all four feet, snorting as he leaned down to examine the hand that Lindsey held out to him.
Remember Me, Cowboy Page 12
