by Janet Dailey
Glancing up, Stacy saw Mr. Nolan drive up beside the Jaguar. As she emerged from the van, the wizened old man crawled out of his jeep and joined her beside the trailer.
'All set to go?' he asked.
'Yes, just making sure everything was secure in the trailer. I'm afraid my horse is a bad traveller,' Stacy explained, glancing at the tossing head of the sorrel.
'Mighty flashy-lookin' horse,' commented her companion. 'What breed is he?'
'Mostly Arabian,' Stacy answered, walking over to the driver's side of the sports car.
'Never cared much for them. Too flighty actin'. Give me a steady quarter horse any time,' the man answered a little gruffly. 'Well, we best get goin'. The road's not in too bad a shape, so you should be able to keep up with me easy.' He started the jeep and moved off.
It wasn't at all difficult to follow him. They drove through a few blocks of homes before taking a gravel road heading north from town. The road soon entered the foothills and finally into the mountains themselves. After they had gone about twenty miles, the jeep turned on to a side road that was little more than a worn track. Stacy refused to let herself dwell on the jolts her Jaguar was taking and prayed that the low-slung sports car wouldn't get hung up in one of the ruts, while she was trying to concentrate on the bouncing rear end of the jeep in front of her. She glanced in the mirror anxiously at the horse trailer behind her. Diablo would really be a bundle of nerves by the time she got to the cabin.
The pine woods were so thick that she couldn't see to either side and with the sun setting, the rays filtered through the trees only in patches. The trees thinned out ahead as she watched the vehicle in front go down a small bill into what looked like a clearing. Reaching the top of the hill, Stacy saw a luscious green meadow before her with a stream cascading through it. Off to her left against the back of a canyon wall was nestled a small wooden cabin with a corral and lean-to beside it. Looking to her right briefly, Stacy could see the mountain meadow wander into the arroyos beyond. Why, it was a valley, but more beautiful than any picture she had ever seen.
Harry Nolan had parked his jeep arid was standing by the wooden porch of the cabin when Stacy pulled her black sports car to a stop in front.
'It's beautiful!' she exclaimed, as she got out of the car to gaze at the surrounding mountains.
‘Yep,' the man replied, removing his straw hat to wipe his balding head with a kerchief. I'll show you around the inside. I think you'll find it comfortable.'
Smiling, Stacy followed the wizened figure into the cabin. The main room housed a fireplace with a large, stuffed deer's head above it. The hearth was filled with firewood with an ample supply piled beside it. There was one sofa in the room and an old rocker. The kitchen, consisting of a few metal cupboards over an old porcelain sink with a pump-type hydrant, covered the west wall. Luckily there was a propane gas stove to cook on; Stacy was sure she could never have managed one of those wood-fired ranges. The table with its two chairs sat in the middle of the room. She could see Molly Nolan's touch in the red-checked tablecloth and matching curtains at the window.
The motherly woman was probably responsible for the pillows on the sofa and the horsehair blanket hanging on the far wall, too. Harry Nolan explained to Stacy how to light the kerosene lanterns and adjust the wick to give off the right amount of light without smoking the glass before he showed her into the bedroom. A big four-poster bed dominated the small room. The bed was covered with a large patchwork quilt that Stacy knew had come from the Nolans. Squeezed in a corner was an old set of chest of drawers. Behind the door was a place to hang her clothes.
'Oh, this is perfect,' Stacy smiled, surveying the two rooms excitedly. 'I can't think of anything that isn't already here.'
'Well, I'm glad it suits you. The missus will be happy to hear how much you like it,' said Harry, his bright eyes glowing at Stacy's enthusiasm. 'Now, if you'd like, I'll help you unload that horse of yours in the corral.'
Accepting Mr. Nolan's offer, Stacy manoeuvred the car so the back of the trailer was over to the gate that the short man had opened. Stacy set the brake and walked back to let the tail gate of the van down before she entered the empty stall beside the restless horse. Anxiously, the sorrel pulled at the rope that held him, interfering with Stacy's attempts to loosen it. She tried to quiet the nervous horse, but his feet increased their tattoo on the trailer's floor as his ears flattened against his head. Finally the knot on the end of the lead rope was loose. As soon as he found himself free, the red stallion half-reared, pulling the girl along with him out of the van. The whites of his eyes flashed menacingly as he danced down the ramp on to the solid ground of the corral. As quickly as she could, Stacy turned the horse loose to gallop around the corral.
The flighty Arabian circled the corral warily, his flaxen mane and tail whipping in the wind. Then, his attention was caught by the stranger leaning against the fence rail near his mistress. Instantly he bore down upon the man, his teeth bared and his pointed ears snaked back. With surprising agility the lean man leaped away from the fence and the savage attack.
'Does he do that often?' Harry muttered.
'Fortunately, no,' Stacy apologized, waving the horse back to the centre of the pen. 'Once in a while he does strike out without any apparent provocation, though.'
Studying the spirited horse pacing up and down on the opposite side, head held high into the wind catching the various odours carried by the mountain breeze, ' Harry turned to Stacy. 'What's that scar on his neck? A rope burn?'
‘I don't know,' she answered, noting the faint white line barely visible under the full mane. 'He had it when I bought him.'
Eyeing the slim figure speculatively, Harry demanded, 'Just how the devil are you able to handle him? He could walk over you like you was air.'
'Evidently we have some sort of understanding. Although sometimes I think he just tolerates me,' Stacy laughed, shrugging off the concern in the man's voice. Changing the subject quickly, she asked, 'Are there many trails around here accessible by horseback?'
'Plenty. Most of them either lead deeper into the mountains or into the valley, and a few of them branch out over to the Circle H,' replied Harry, gesturing towards the west.
'Where is the Circle H exactly?' Her hands shaded her eyes from the setting sun. That was one place she intended to avoid.
'This here's Cord's land that the cabin sits on. We just got a lease. It's an abandoned line shack that me and some of my friends use when we go huntin' and fishin'. But if you're referring to the ranch house, that's about nine, ten miles from here. Yep, he's got himself quite a spread. Runs it with an iron hand, he does. But the men don't mind 'cause they always know where they stand with him. He pays good money and expects a good day's work for it.'
Stacy could believe that. He probably rode around with a whip in his hand.
'Molly said you met him at the store,' the ageing man added. ‘Course, you know he ain't married.'
Stacy made no reply as she watched the sorrel paw at some hay in the lean-to. 'Who could stand him?' she thought to herself.
' 'Bout six years ago, we all thought he'd got himself caught, but the girl up and ran off with some oilwell man. Never did much like the girl. She always thought she was so much better than the folks around here. He's better off without her,' nodded Harry, ignoring the bored look on the girl's face, and kept on talking.
Secretly, Stacy couldn't help but applaud the girl who had managed to set that arrogant cowboy back on his heels, but she didn't show it.
'He fixed up his grandma's hacienda on the place for her, piled a lot of money in it. He lives there alone except for his housekeeper.' Moving away from the fence, Harry started towards his jeep. 'Well, if I want to get home 'fore dark, I'd better mosey along. If there's anything you need, you be sure to let us know.'
'I will, Mr. Nolan. And thanks for all you've done. I really appreciate it,' Stacy said, shaking his hand warmly.
She stood in front of the cabin and watched the
jeep drive off on the faint trail into the stand of trees. The solitude encompassed her as she lost sight of the jeep in the gathering shadows. Cajun came up behind her and shoved his moist nose in her hands. Kneeling down, she rumpled the hair on his neck roughly.
'I'm not alone, am I? Not as long as I have you around, huh?' Stacy smiled, and looked towards the cabin door. 'Let's go fix us something to eat.'
CHAPTER THREE
THE sun was streaming over the meadow when Stacy walked out of the cabin door to watch the golden haze cover the meadow. The valley was filled with the songs of birds trilling their greeting to the new day. The sun's rays were striking the rippling brook, turning it into a ribbon of shimmering quicksilver. Inhaling the brisk, clear air, Stacy emitted a satisfied sigh. Then, clicking to the Shepherd standing beside her, she walked over to the corral.
Two days had passed since she had first came to the mountain cabin. The first day Stacy had spent unpacking and settling in. The tack had to be cleaned, as well as the horse trailer and sports car that was dusty from travelling over the gravel roads. She had taken an evening ride down the meadow to give the moody sorrel some exercise and accustom him to the change of climate. The second day she explored the mountains to the east of her, spending most of the day away from the cabin. The scenery continually took her breath away. Never had she travelled so far without finding any trace of civilization except an occasional herd of cattle in the valleys below. Surprisingly enough the evenings had passed rather swiftly for the young girl. After cooking her meal, feeding the horse and dog, she had sat out on the porch until the evening light faded.
It was so restful that, for the first time in several weeks, Stacy felt at peace. Surrounded by the natural serenity of the valley, the worries and grief that had plagued her before seemed non-existent. Nothing mattered but being alive. She knew she had done the fight thing in alienating herself from the rest of the world. But part of her never wanted to leave, even though she knew she would have to eventually.
Last evening she had written Carter a letter letting him know she had arrived safely and was settling in. This morning she planned to ride along the main road to find a rancher's mailbox so that she wouldn't have to go into town to post it. She hadn't noticed one on the drive to the cabin, but then she had been concentrating on the road and the vehicle in front of her.
Entering the side gate of the corral near the lean-to, Stacy got the bridle out of the shed and started to approach the red horse who began retreating to the far side of the enclosure. Ignoring the flashing white feet and the small pointed ears that kept flicking back and forth, she walked up to the horse. Snorting, the sorrel lashed out half-heartedly with his front hooves and dashed to the other side of the pen. Arrogantly he looked back at Stacy, tossing his head defiantly.
'All right, Diablo, let's don't play hard to get this morning,' Stacy said, walking slowly towards the horse. 'It's too lovely a morning to work up a sweat catching you.'
The horse stood uneasily as she approached, still talking to him in her soft voice. He eyed her apprehensively as she stopped in front of him and extended her hand. Diablo stretched his small muzzle to her hesitantly and after a little investigation, blew into her hand gently. Docilely he submitted to the bit and bridle and stood, quietly, the reins dangling on the ground, while Stacy fetched the blanket and saddle. Stacy never knew how Diablo was going to react to the saddle, sometimes he accepted it calmly and other times he acted like a yearling that had never seen one before. Cinching up, Stacy led the quiet horse out into the yard before mounting. Whistling to Cajun, she started her mount down the trail towards the main road. The sorrel pranced a little as the Shepherd ran alongside, but offered Stacy no trouble.
The sun's rays peeping through the cover of branches danced on the coppery red coat of the horse accenting the whiteness of the rider's blouse. Cajun raced ahead investigating all the sights and sounds of the trail. Acknowledging her sorrel's desire to run, Stacy nudged the horse into a canter. They continued at a ground-eating lope until they reached the main road. Here Stacy slowed the horse to a trot, turning him in the direction of town. Diablo resented the slowed pace and began side-stepping and pulling his head in an attempt to loosen the tight rein. She was unable to admire the scenery as she fought to control her horse. Cajun still led the way, but checked back to make sure his mistress was with him. Stacy's whole attention was devoted to her mount that had begun to rear and plunge around. It was then that she noticed the saddle slipping. The cinch had loosened during the ride from the cabin.
Pulling the horse to a stop, she dismounted. But Diablo had abandoned the earlier docility at the cabin and refused to let her near him. His white feet lashed out, preventing her from approaching him. Slowly Stacy tried to edge her way up the reins to the horse's head, only to have him pull away with his superior strength. Concentrating on trying to quiet the fractious horse, she didn't hear the car coming down the road behind her until it was within a hundred feet. As she turned to see where the vehicle was, Diablo bolted past her, but was pulled up short by the quick thinking of the girl as she yanked the reins hard, forcing the horse to turn in a half circle.
With the noise of the car and the normal misbehaviour of the animal, the sorrel became completely unmanageable. Ignoring the car that had stopped just a few feet away, Stacy concentrated on preventing the horse from breaking away. With the endless open space before her, she knew she would never be able to catch him once he escaped. In the mood he was in now, he would run for miles before stopping.
From the corner of her eye, Stacy recognized the dark, towering figure that had climbed out of the car and was walking towards her. Of all people it had to be Cord Harris. He was the last one she wanted to see just now.
'Looks like you're having a little trouble, Miss Adams,' the low-pitched voice drawled.
'Brilliant, observation,' Stacy said sarcastically, puffing from the exertion of holding the high-strung animal.
Walking up behind her, the man took the reins out of her hands and motioned for her to move back. At the sight of a stranger on the other end of the reins, Diablo renewed his battle for freedom, but he was no match for the determined man. Dodging the flying hooves, Cord grabbed the cheek strap of the bridle and hauled the horse down on all four feet. Gradually the sorrel settled down, tossing his head and snorting occasionally.
Stacy gazed at the broad, muscular shoulders underneath the tan jacket the man was wearing and watched as he ran his hand down the horse's neck. She couldn't imagine anyone being able to win in a fight with this forceful man. Just then he turned his head and met her searching gaze. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't keep from staring into the dark eyes that smouldered with a strange, deep fire. He was the one who broke the silence.
'I would recommend you get yourself another horse. He's more than a slip of a girl can handle.'
'Thank you, but I didn't ask for your advice, nor did I ask for your help,' Stacy retorted, hating the fact that she was beholden to this man.
'It didn't look to me like you were doing a very good job,' he replied coldly, his mouth turning up in a mocking smile. 'But then, maybe I had the wrong idea.'
'I would have been able to handle him if you hadn't driven up in that noisy thing,' she said, gesturing defiantly at the sleek gold and brown Continental behind her, 'and worried him more than he already was.'
'I didn't realize I needed your permission to drive down a public road,' drawled Cord Harris, the sarcasm heavy in his voice as his eyes flashed at her. 'If your horse is scared of traffic, perhaps you shouldn't be riding him where he's bound to meet it.'
'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that,' Stacy said bitterly. He had done her a favour and she wasn't exactly behaving properly. 'He's a little temperamental sometimes, and this happened to be one of those times.'
'I hope they don't happen very often or I'll be finding you lying dead somewhere out on the range the next time he throws you.'
'Oh, he didn't throw me,' Stacy co
rrected. 'I got off to tighten the cinch.'
'Oh,' he said, a frown creasing his forehead as he turned to the saddle. 'I apologize to your horsemanship, then, because I assumed the two of you had parted company a little more dramatically.'
'No,' Stacy laughed, 'though I admit we have a time or two!'
She walked up to fondle the horse's head while Cord proceeded to tighten the girth on the saddle. Turning back to face the girl, he rested his arm on the saddle-horn. Self-consciously, Stacy felt his eyes on her and turned to meet them, but he turned away quickly before she could read the expression written there. When he looked back, his face revealed nothing of his thoughts and Stacy looked away this time, feeling herself redden under his eyes.
'Where were you heading, any place special?' he asked.
'I was looking for a mailbox,' Stacy replied hurriedly, trying to cover the sudden unexplainable blush.
'A mailbox!' Cord laughed scornfully. 'Just where did you intend to find a mailbox out here?'
'No, I mean a mailbox for a ranch where the mailman delivers and picks up their mail,' defended Stacy, her dislike for the arrogant man returning once more.
'Well, I'm sorry to disillusion you, Miss Adams, but there aren't any between here and town,' he said, one side of his mouth curling up in disdain. 'You forget that this part of the country lacks a few of the luxuries that city people consider necessities.'
'I didn't know,' she said hotly, her temper rising, 'and I don't think it's very amusing of you to degrade a person because of their ignorance.'
'I'm not trying to degrade you,' Cord said calmly, unruffled by the fiery figure standing defiantly before him. 'I'm merely pointing out that you would be more comfortable if you would go back where you belong.’
