by Janet Dailey
Unfortunately Cord wasn't there. Stacy queried Maria, who replied that Mr. Harris had already taken his meal and was out giving instructions to the men. Maria was plainly confused by the turn of events and kept casting puzzled glances at the young girl. When Stacy finished her toast and coffee, Maria said that Stacy was to meet the Boss out in the yard.
Gratefully Stacy realized that most of the men had already gone. It would have been embarrassing to be subjected to the forbidding rancher's orders in the presence of his men. As it was, she recognized his tall form still talking to two men. His back was to her, so he didn't see her approach, but Stacy was sure he knew she was coming.
The two men standing with him attempted to ignore the approaching girl. The taller of the two was only a few years older than Stacy and obviously embarrassed by the situation. He kept his head down, his hat preventing Stacy from seeing the expression on his face. The other man was considerably older and wizened. The constant sun on his face had made his skin so leathery that Stacy was unable to judge his age. When she approached the group the older one met her gaze openly, compassion and sympathy etched in the eyes that squinted in the morning sun. It was a comfort to recognize an ally here.
'It's about time you got here, Adams,' Cord said crisply, turning his aquiline features towards her. 'I want you to go with Hank and Jim today to gather the stock cattle in the winter range,' he ordered, casting only a cursory glance at the petite figure beside him. 'Any other questions, Hank?'
The older man shook his head negatively.
'Okay, mount up.'
Stacy started to follow the two men as they walked to the horses standing saddled on the other side of the corral, but was called back by Cord. Turning to face the imposing figure, she took her gloves out of her jacket pocket and began putting them on her hands, hoping to stave off the nervousness she felt facing him.
'Yes,' she said, looking boldly into his face, her voice matching the crisp tone he had used earlier. She was unable to read his dark expression.
For a minute he didn't answer, then he said, 'Hank will show you all that needs to be done.'
'All right,' she replied, disliking the searching eyes that seemed to probe deep inside her. 'Anything else?'
'No. Good luck.' His tone was indifferent and conflicting with his words.
Briskly Stacy turned from him and walked to where the two mounted riders waited. The one named Hank handed her the reins of a short-coupled bay pony. Silently she mounted and turned her horse to follow the other two.
Shortly after leaving the ranchyard, the younger of the two men rode ahead, leaving the wizened old cowboy alone with Stacy. Normally she would have been enjoying the early morning ride, but today's circumstances made her conscious of the humiliating position she was in. Pride forbade her to look at the silent, hunched figure beside her. For a time the two horses moved along at their slow, shuffling trot, until the rider beside her pulled his horse into a walk and Stacy's mount automatically matched the pace.
'Miss Adams,' came the questioning, rough voice, 'now it ain't none of my business and you can tell me to shut my mouth, but if we're going to be riding the range together, it gets mighty lonely if all you can talk to is yore boss. Now, it ain't in me to question the Boss's orders, but me nor none of the boys hold you responsible for what happened to the kid the other day. It's gonna be a long day in the saddle, specially for a dude like you, but it shore does make the day go faster if there's a bit of jawin' goin' on.'
Stacy had the distinct impression that this was the longest statement the man had ever made, and she smiled at his thoughtfulness. He was trying to put her at ease in his own clumsy way and himself as well.
'Thank you, Hank. I appreciate it more than you know.'
'Well, I been working on this spread ever since the Boss was in knee-britches, and I seen some strange things. But I gotta admit this is the first time we've ever had us a lady wrangler. An' the Boss says you gotta pull your own weight,' he said, shaking his head in confusion.
'I intend to, too,' Stacy replied, a grim look of determination on her face, 'I don't know anything about ranching or cows, but I can learn. At least I can ride and am in fair shape.'
'Well, now, miss, I reckon you can ride all right, but you gotta relax a little more. Ya ain't in no hoss show, so you don't have to worry 'bout how you look,' Hank said with a slight smile. 'An' I'd watch what you call cows. Safe thing is to call 'em cattle.'
'I stand corrected,' she laughed.. 'Tell me, Hank, what exactly are we doing today?'
'We're gonna be rattlin' the brush for bunch-quitters mostly an' gettin' the herd ready for movin' to the summer pasture. Most of the men trucked their horses to the far end of the pasture an'll be workin' towards us with the main herd.'
'Trucked their horses?' Stacy asked quizzically, her brown eyes examining the weathered face Of the cowboy.
'Yep. It's a modern West you'll find. Rather than spendin' a lot of time ridin' to where the herd is, now they jus' load the the horses up in trucks or trailers and haul 'em as close as they can.'
'It's a miracle they don't use jeeps to round them up,' Stacy exclaimed half to herself, in amazement.
'A few years ago when we was really tryin' to gather all the scrub bulls an' strays, the Boss ordered a helicopter to search 'em out. Things have changed,' Hank muttered. 'Reckon we ought to catch up with Jim?'
The brisk morning air was beginning to warm with the rising sun. Already the morning dew was rapidly vanishing from the undergrowth wherever the sun's rays probed through the shade. The distant mountainous hills were cloaked in a golden haze that cast its shimmering glow upon the grassland stretched out below it. The morning air was bereft of any breeze and the stillness was broken only by the shuffling trot of the three cow-ponies and the occasional call of the quail. The three riders travelled several miles before arriving at the first barbed wire fence. They rode along the fence until they arrived at a gate. Stacy and Hank waited astride their horses while Jim manoeuvred his horse into position to unhook the gate and open it for the other two. After they had passed through, the young cowboy followed, closing the gate behind him.
'This is where we start to work, miss,' the wizened cowboy said, indicating the land spread out before them.
'But I don't see any cattle?' said Stacy, looking at the vacant pasture.
'That's the general idea. If they Was right out in plain sight it wouldn't be quite so much work. But they seem to know every ravine and bush on the spread and that's where they plan to stay.'
'But I thought that you raised domestic cattle, a Hereford cross of some sort?' she queried, plainly puzzled.
'We do, but they been left alone. They're just about as skittish of humans as the old longhorns that used to graze this land. Only difference between the two is these ain't half as ornery as them,' Hank replied, squinting his eyes to look over the land. 'We usually split up a bit here, but you stick close to me for a while, miss.'
The three riders loped off; the younger cowboy moved fifty yards to their left and they all began scouring the brush. It was hot dusty work for horse and rider, and it wasn't long before Stacy removed her jacket and tied it on the back of the saddle. Between the heat of the sun and the constant exercise, Stacy's bay began perspiring, too. They scared up a couple of head of cattle, as they worked their way along. Stacy began to respect the game horse she was riding. By mid-morning they had about fifteen head of cattle driving in front of them. Hank instructed the young girl to keep them going while he and Jim added other strays with them.
At first she thought he was giving her an easier job until she began breathing in the dust that the cattle were kicking up. She wasn't even able to relax on the horse. Every time she allowed her attention to wander from the herd that was the precise time that one of the animals decided to make another break for the open bush. The little bay instinctively gave chase and cut it back into the herd. Quite a few times Stacy was positive that the horse was going to spin around and send her
flying in the other direction. Her legs were so weary from gripping his sides and her body so covered with dust and grime and sweat that she was sure that she wouldn't make it through the rest of the morning let alone the whole day. Each time one of the cowboys added another steer to the herd, Stacy could hardly stop, from sighing outwardly. She had learned for every steer in the herd her horse had to cover twice their distance.
Her mouth was dry and gritty, but she was afraid to sip out of her canteen for fear that one of the herd would decide to leave. The girl was happy to see Hank ride up alongside, but trying to smile a hello was an effort. He didn't look at her directly, but Stacy could still recognize a ghost of a smile on his face.
'Mighty dirty work, ridin' drag on a bunch of scrubs,' he murmured in the air. 'We're comin' up on the water tank where we'll meet up with the chuck wagon for lunch. Reckon maybe you could do with a rest, huh?'
'I don't mind admitting that I could, Hank,' Stacy replied, feeling her lips crack as she spoke. Giving the little bay an affectionate pat on the neck, she added, 'I think he deserves one too.'
'The remuda will be there. His work is done for the day,' the cowboy answered.
'Oh, look!' cried Stacy, turning her attention to the left. 'Isn't that Jim coming?—and it looks like he's got a little baby calf across his saddle.'
The younger cowboy joined them with a new white-faced calf lying crosswise on his saddle with the mother following alongside, lowing soothingly to her youngster.
'He's darling!' Stacy exclaimed. 'How old is he?'
'Just a couple of days,' Jim replied, the shyness still evident in his failure to look directly at Stacy, but proud of her interest in his find. 'I found them out in the brush. The calf wasn't able to keep up, so I thought I'd give him a ride to the calf wagon.'
'Calf wagon? What's that?' Stacy asked, her attention diverted from the snow-white face.
'There's usually a bunch of these latecomers that are too little to keep up with the herd, so we have a trailer we put 'em in until we reach the night's holdin' ground and then we mammy 'em up,' Hank replied, amused at Stacy's concern for the calf. 'Take the little critter on in, Jim, we'll be there shortly.'
'Isn't that what you call a dogey, a baby calf?' Stacy asked watching as Jim rode on ahead.
‘A dogey is really a calf without a momma, but a lot o' people call all calves dogies,' Hank answered.
'The cattle have settled down a lot. It must be your being here. Before, every five minutes one was heading in a different direction,' Stacy commented, enjoying the conversation with the knowledgeable cowboy.
'Nope, it's not me. They smell Water. We just happen to be going the same direction as them.'
The cattle and two riders topped a small rise in the ground and came upon a high plateau covered with tall stands of pampas grass and creosote bushes. Ahead Stacy could see the large water tank and windmill. Beyond that was a station wagon and several pick-ups and trailers. A look of astonishment crossed her dust-stained face.
'That's the chuck wagon?'
A dry chuckle escaped the old cowboy's throat. 'I told ya the old West was gone. They bring the food from the ranch house and trailer the remuda to the noon stop,' the old man smiled. 'You go on and ride ahead. These cattle ain't goin' nowhere 'cept to that tank. Rest while you can. We're gonna be hittin' the saddle for another long afternoon.'
Gratefully, Stacy reined her little bay out around the herd and set him at a lope for the waiting vehicles. She rode over to where a cowboy waited by the trailers. There were already several riders over by the station wagon; some were eating and some were just getting their food. Behind the trailers Stacy noticed a couple of Mexicans cooling off some cow-ponies with replacements picketed along the trailers. Slowly she dismounted. Her bones and muscles were so sore that she stood for a minute to adjust to the solid ground beneath her feet. Now that she was on the ground, she wasn't so sure that she could walk. She took a few careful steps in the general direction of the wagon and realized that she was going to navigate all right under her own power, so she joined the men at the station wagon where they were dishing out food from the rear.
The good-natured grumbling and banter that had been going on when Stacy rode up had stopped, and Stacy became uneasy. She had been so comfortable with the old cowboy, and so tired and hungry from the skimpy breakfast, that she neglected to remember her awkward position. With a red face and a trembling hand she accepted the dish of stew and beans with a thick slice of bread alongside from one of the cooks and a steaming mug of coffee from another. Nervously she turned around to search for a shaded place to have her meal. All eyes were on her as she turned; some looked away abruptly while others eyed her boldly.
'Ma'am,' came a hesitant voice from her right. Stacy turned and with relief recognized the young rider, Jim. 'If you like, you can join me. Not many shaded places left.'
'Thank you, Jim,' she said, looking for the first time into the hazel eyes of the young cowboy. 'I guess I did look a little lost.'
'Yes, you mustn't mind the men. They aren't used to seeing women around camp,' he replied, removing his hat to run his fingers through his bleached brown hair. There was a boyishness about his face that deceived his true age which was in the middle twenties.
In between bites of food, Stacy asked, 'Have you worked here long?'
'Off and on all my life. Got out of the service a couple years ago and went to college, but I work here in tike summers for tuition money,' he replied, a look of seriousness crossing his face.
'What are you studying?'
'Forestry, conservation,' was the quiet answer.
'Are you planning to be a park ranger?' Stacy inquired.
'Hopefully. Mr. Harris has suggested coming back to the ranch, but I think I'd rather not. Initially I was going to be a vet., but I discovered that I was more interested in the agricultural and ecological side,' he answered, enjoying the interest Stacy was taking in him.
'I wouldn't let Mr. Harris's wishes interfere with what I wanted to do/ Stacy said, a trace of bitterness in her voice as she stabbed at a piece of beef in the stew.
'No, of course not,' came the low, mocking reply.
Stacy jerked her head up and practically choked on the piece of meat as she stared into the tanned face of the rancher. Jim scrambled to his feet in embarrassment.
'We were just discussing my college plans, sir,' he stated, his jaw clenched tight, defending Stacy in his own way from the sardonic smile of his employer.
Swiftly Stacy got to her feet to prevent any further remarks on her behalf. It was humiliating enough to have to look up to Cord, but to be seated at his feet was too much. Cord Harris shifted his gaze from the young cowhand to the hatless girl before him. Boldly she met his gaze, conscious once again of her dust-covered clothes and face.
'Perhaps you would like to go check on your horses for Miss Adams, Connors,' Cord suggested with a definite tone of dismissal.
The cowboy cast a wavering glance at the girl at his side. Stacy smiled at him with a great deal more confidence than she felt. Her pulse was racing at an unsettling pace. Reluctantly Jim Connors left the two standing alone beside the trailer.
'You seem to have gained yourself an admirer.'
'Don't be ridiculous! He was only being polite, He obviously has been taught some manners—which is more than I can say for some people,' Stacy said scathingly.
'I see you've managed to survive the morning in fair shape.' Cord ignored her insult and leaned against the side of the trailer to light a cigarette. Unconsciously he held the match until it was cool, all the while his gaze travelling over the dirty face of the girl.
'Yes. I managed quite well. Surprised?'
'No. I imagine you could do anything you set your mind to,' he replied. 'I only wonder if you have the staying power.'
'Hey, Boss, is that the filly you picked up at the sale last week?' Hank walked up beside them, his attention fixed on a chestnut sorrel at the far end of the trailer. The horse didn
't like being tied up and pawed the ground impatiently while pulling at the reins. 'Shore is a nice-looking thing.'
Cord's eyes never left Stacy's face. 'Yes, she is.'
Stacy could feel herself begin to blush, but she couldn't break away from the compelling eyes.
'Do ya' think she's gonna be able to settle down to ranch life?' Hank asked, and then addressed his next remark to Stacy, not noticing that she was paying little attention to him. 'She was raced a few times and she's used to a lot of fuss and bother. Spoilt, you might say.'
A mocking smile crossed Cord's lips as he watched the discomfiture registering on Stacy's face. 'It's hard to tell, Hank.'
'Shore seems awful fractious. It'll take a lot of patience to change this one's way of thinkin',' the old cowboy went on with a shake of his head.
'It will that,' Cord said with a throaty laugh. 'It will that. Well, mustn't detain you two any longer from your work. I'll see you later.'
With no more than a brief nod to Stacy and a friendly slap on the back to the cowhand, Cord strode over to where the young horse stood tethered, the secretly amused expression still on his face. Untying the reins, he swung his tall frame easily into the saddle as the spirited horse danced beneath him. He didn't even glance in their direction as he reined the sorrel over towards a group of riders talking over their last cup of coffee. Stacy couldn't hear what was said, but gathered it was an order to mount up, because shortly after they dispersed and walked over to where their ponies were tied.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jim walking up leading two horses. He handed her the reins to a big Roman-nosed buckskin. Stacy could tell that Jim was embarrassed about leaving her in Cord's clutches, but at this moment the tanned face was still plainly visible in her mind and the delicious, throaty laugh was still echoing in her ears. Silently they mounted and rode over to join the grizzled cowhand, Hank, and get at the afternoon's work.
CHAPTER SEVEN
