No Quarter Asked

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No Quarter Asked Page 9

by Janet Dailey

STACY had thought the morning long and arduous, but by six o'clock that evening she knew the true meaning of bone-weary. She yearned to give a cry of joy when she sighted the windmill that indicated the night's holding ground for the cattle.

  Her failure to try to shirk her work off on to them had gained her both Jim and Hank's respect. Several times they would have taken over for her, but she hadn't let them. It would have been easy for her to trade on her womanhood, and they would have allowed it, in spite of their employer's order.

  Hank suggested that she ride on ahead and get a cup of coffee for each of them, but she declined, saying with a tired attempt at a laugh that she was going to' need help getting off her horse. At the moment it seemed almost too true to be funny. A short time later they hazed their small herd in, with the main one settling down for the night about a hundred yards from the camp.

  A sense of peace cloaked the riders as they rode back into the strange western camp of motorized vehicles where the odour of petrol and oil mixed with the smell of sweaty horses, cattle, and humans. Good-naturedly Stacy accepted the helping hand of the younger cowboy as she dismounted. She felt no self-consciousness as she limped her way to the station wagon and the promising aroma of coffee. Hank had arrived before the other two and was talking to the riders who had gathered around the lowered tailgate. '

  'Hank,' Stacy groaned, looking into the grey eyes, a smile of mock pain on her face, 'I think you're looking at the very first bow-legged lady wrangler. I'll never walk straight again as long as I live, let alone be able to sit down!'

  There was a considerable amount of sympathizing laughter from the group and, more important, acceptance. Accompanied by a goodly amount of jesting and joking, Stacy was presented with a steaming cup of the cook's java. After inhaling the steam rising from the cup, she emitted an audible sigh of appreciation.

  'Cook, you are a master chef, but tell me, where is the bath water?' she exclaimed, and met with another round of laughter. 'Do you boys go through this every day?'

  'Twice on Sunday,' one of them replied, and laughed at the expression of mock disbelief on Stacy's face.

  'Spare me the details and help me find a way to sit down!'

  Several of the riders stepped forward, including Jim Connors, and with exaggerated care lowered her to the ground. Despite her aches and pains, Stacy was beginning to enjoy herself, and so were the men. There had seldom been a woman in their midst and definitely none that had joined in making fun of herself and her situation. With a sparkle in her eyes, she started to make another comment to the men, only to notice that they had grown very quiet and were looking beyond her. Still in a jovial mood, she turned her radiant smile to include the object of their attention. Cord Harris's frame had cast its shadow over the group. His expression was a study of amused interest in the girl and the surrounding riders. Stacy couldn't say why or how she had the nerve to say what came next.

  'Oh, Patron, please allow this lowly peon to remain seated in thy great presence, for I vow I couldn't rise if you commanded me.'

  There was a chilling stillness as the men waited for their boss to answer. Stacy was horrified at her words, but it was too late to retract them. She held her breath along with the men. The low chuckle that finally came relaxed everyone and most of all the seated Stacy.

  'Charlie, give me a cup of that brew of yours while I sit down beside this senorita,' Cord directed with a grin to the cook.

  Someone had started a campfire, and Stacy fixed her attention on it rather than the disconcerting man beside her, trying to ignore the delicious chill that had quaked her body at his pleasant laugh. The sun was beginning to set now, casting its coloured shadows on the countryside, while the two sipped their coffee in silence. The cook brought them a plate of beefsteak and beans and refilled their coffee.

  'Well, what do you think of the cattle drive?' Cord asked as they began eating their meal. 'Is it what you expected it to be?'

  'No,' Stacy replied with a smile, 'not meant as a complaint, but it's a lot harder work than I thought.'

  'So far you've come through with flying colours,' he said.

  'Meaning you don't think I'll last.'

  'Meaning I have no opinion except that you've done very well.' There was a mocking glint in his eyes as he went on, 'You really should do something about that temper of yours. You're a little too quick to take offence.'

  'Perhaps I've had cause,' Stacy replied, her gaze still occupied by the flickering campfire flames.

  Touche,' Cord smiled, his eyes observing the still face. 'I imagine you're pretty tired after today's work. The remuda hands will be heading back to the ranch house shortly. You can catch a ride with them, or wait a little longer and I'll give you a ride back.'

  'Is everyone going back?' Stacy was astounded. 'You mean you just leave the cattle unattended to stray all over?'

  'No,' Cord chuckled, 'most of the men will be staying and taking their turns at riding herd. They've brought along their bedrolls,' he added, indicating places where some of the men had already made them up.

  'Then why am I going back to the ranch?'

  'Because you didn't come prepared for staying overnight and because it wouldn't be permissible for a woman to spend the night out here on a trail drive,' Cord replied a little curtly. 'Plus you've only been out of a sickbed a few days. It would be foolish to overdo it.'

  'Oh, but I'm just one of the boys, remember?' Stacy mocked, her brown eyes flashing bright sparks, magnified by the burning embers.

  'During the day,' he qualified in his crisp tone.

  'I'm staying the night here.' Stacy's voice was low and determined.

  'You will be returning with me.'

  'Then you'll have to carry me forcibly from here, and that would make quite a scene. But then you don't mind scenes, do you?'

  'You're forgetting that you have no place to sleep,' Cord stated. 'Didn't you learn from your last experience what can happen staying out in the cold at night?'

  'I'm quite sure I'll be able to make some sort of arrangement to borrow a blanket or something from someone.'

  'Or perhaps share a bedroll?' was the sarcastic reply. 'I'm sure you'd have plenty of offers.'

  'You dirty-minded beast!' Stacy exclaimed, forgetting the tired muscles in her body and bounding to her feet. The fury mounted in her face as she waited for Cord to join her. 'I don't know what kind of women you're familiar with, but let me assure you that I don't fit in that category!' Her voice raised as she struggled to keep control of herself. 'I don't have to listen to that kind of talk from any man!'

  Cord grabbed hold of her arm, preventing her from running away from him. Trembling, Stacy stopped, neither attempting to pull away from his vice-like grip not turning to face his cold dark eyes.

  'Are you hoping one of your knights will come to your rescue?' he asked in a mocking whisper that she just barely heard.

  Unable to reply, she stood immobile. Finally she heard a sigh leave his lips at the same time he released her arm.

  'I believe an apology is in order. Therefore I apologize for the insinuations made and will make accommodation for you to spend the night here,' Cord said quietly.

  Still Stacy did not turn to face him. There were hot tears of humiliation and hurt in her eyes as she felt his hands touch her shoulders and slowly turn her around to face him. With surprising gentleness his large hand cupped her chin and raised it up so that he could see her face. His own expression was hidden by the shadow of his Stetson hat.

  ‘I guess we're both a little tired and on edge,' came the familiar deep voice. 'Get a good night's rest.’

  Cord turned quietly and left. She was conscious of a feeling of emptiness as the chill of night stole over her shoulders and face where a moment ago his hands had been. The anger had vanished, leaving Stacy staring off into the dark after him. Uncertain, she turned back to the flickering campfire and the quiet figures of the ranch hands.

  Jim Connors walked up to her from behind one of the trailers carrying a b
edroll and a blanket. His bright, questioning hazel eyes searched her face, but Stacy accepted the bedding with only a quiet thank-you and walked over to the other side of the fire. Dully she watched some of the hands loading horses into vans and start pulling out.' Involuntarily she searched the darkened forms for Cord and strained to catch the quiet conversation for the sound of his voice, but with no success.

  She slipped under the covers of her bedroll and stared up into the dark blue sky overhead, plagued by a variety of emotions—hurt, anger, humiliation, resentment, but most of all a wonder and mystification towards this unpredictable Cord Harris. At last the tjred muscles claimed her attention and ignorant of the hard ground and chilling air she drifted off to sleep.

  She was sure she had just barely fallen asleep when a hand began gently shaking her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open to a starlit sky. Stacy had difficulty focusing on the figure beside her in the absence of light. At first she thought it was Cord, but then she recognized the smaller build of Jim Connors.

  'It's time to get up.'

  'It's dark yet,' she muttered, sleep heavy in her voice.

  'It's four o'clock,' the young cowboy answered lightly. 'We rise early around here. Breakfast is almost ready. Better get washed up.'

  A moment later he was gone. Painfully Stacy rolled out of her bed, all of her muscles crying out for her not to move. It was all she could do to stand up. Stiffly she walked over to a basin of water warmed by the rekindled fire. Gratefully she splashed the water on her' face, enjoying the clean sensation it gave her skin. Awake now, she glanced around the camp with interest.

  Everywhere there was activity. Horses and riders were walking along the outside of the camp and other riders were mumbling sleepily over their coffee and flapjacks. Over to the east, the sky was beginning to lighten with the coming dawn.

  While she was eating the enormous breakfast Jim had brought her, Stacy saw the remuda trucks approaching with a load of fresh horses for the day's work. Since Jim had already finished his breakfast he offered to get her a mount for the morning. A few minutes later he returned leading a big, rangy sorrel and a smaller-built pinto. Quickly Stacy finished off the last of her pancakes and carried the plate and mug over to the station wagon. Several of the riders had already left when she returned to the waiting cowboy. Hank had joined him, mounted on his horse.

  'Ready for another day, miss?' he asked, a smile spreading over his tanned face. Watching her slip her hat on, he added, 'Now a real cowboy puts his hat on as soon as he gets up.'

  'I'm still learning,' she laughed in return, taking the pinto's reins from Jim. 'What's the agenda this morning?'

  'Gotta sweep the east side of the main herd for strays,' he replied, swinging his pony in that direction.

  A groan passed Stacy's lips as she mounted her horse. It was a mixture of dismay at the orders and a rebellion of her sore muscles at returning to the saddle, 'Is Mr. Harris joining the drive today?' she asked.

  'Oh, he stayed the night last night and took one of the watches,' replied the older cowboy. 'Imagine he's headin' the herd up now.’

  'Oh,' Stacy murmured. The idea that Cord had spent the night in the camp was oddly disquieting to her.

  'It's a gorgeous morning,' she exclaimed as her pony danced beside Jim's mount as if in emphasis of her words. The sun was climbing the sky now, chasing away the last vestiges of the night's shadows.

  'It's spring,' the young cowboy replied, capturing the exuberance of the attractive girl at his side.

  'And it's a beautiful country to be in, in spring!' she laughed. 'It makes you feel great just to be alive!'

  'You really like it here—in Texas, I mean?'

  'I love it,' Stacy answered, not noting his qualifying words. 'There's room here. I mean, you feel free. No one's crowding you. It's hard to describe.'

  'I know,' Jim replied, his eyes studying her face. 'Let's ride over this way. I'd like to show you something.'

  'What is it?'

  'You'll see,' he said, looking ahead as they altered their course to the left. 'What brought you here to Texas?'

  For a minute Stacy didn't answer, but there was something about the young man with his close-cropped brown hair that made her want to confide in him.

  'My father was killed in a plane crash about a month and a half ago,' she answered quietly. 'We were very close. You see, my mother died a few months after I was born, so all there ever was was my father and me.'

  Jim studied the girl quietly with his hazel eyes, but didn't interrupt her.

  'He was a freelance photographer, quite famous in his field. From almost the time I could walk he took me with him on his assignments. I was never in one place long enough to make any real friends. Oh, there were a few that you always got reacquainted with when you returned somewhere,' Stacy added, her thoughts turning to Carter Mills, 'but it really all boiled down to each other. Dad had chartered a plane to fly us back to Washington after a trip into Tennessee. Over the mountains we developed engine trouble and crashed.'

  There was a silence for a time while Stacy fought to control the lump in her throat. Staring in front of her, she began to speak again. 'Cajun, my German Shepherd, was along. I was knocked unconscious, but somehow he managed to pull me out of the plane and shortly afterwards it burst into flames. My father was still inside.'

  'Your father was Joshua Adams,' said Jim.

  'Yes,' she answered, a whispered hoarseness creeping into her voice. 'Afterwards I was confused. A lot of Dad's friends and colleagues offered to help, but I didn't really know what they could do.' A stilted laugh came from her lips. 'He always loved the West. I guess I came out here for two reasons, to be close to him and to find what I wanted out of life.'

  'You've been here before?'

  'Not here specifically, but Dad had assignments in El Paso several times and various other places in Arizona and New Mexico,' Stacy answered, then added with a laugh, 'I really didn't expect to spend my time chasing cattle!'

  Understanding that she was trying to shake off the sadness that talking about her father had raised, Jim Connors joined in with her laugh.

  'No, I don't imagine you did. Hank and I were along with the Boss when he found you that morning on the range.'

  'You were?'

  'The Boss was fit to be tied when he found your horse,' Jim stated, smiling over at the girl. 'He was the first one to spot your dog and reach you. None of us had ever seen him in such a state before. He was snapping orders around so fast and wouldn't let anyone else near you but him.'

  'He was probably afraid I'd sue him for allowing that snake to be on his property,' Stacy laughed, ignoring the inquisitive glance. 'You two don't get along very well,' Jim commented.

  'It's not my fault. I think he just hates women in general,' she replied.

  'No, I don't believe that,' the cowboy said with a dubious shake of his head. 'After his engagement to Lydia, I don't believe he's taken women at face value any more. He's forgotten the word trust.'

  'Whatever his problem is, it's not mine.'

  'The place I wanted to show you is right over here,' Jim said, turning his pony abruptly to the right to-wards a small hill. 'I was in a lecture class where your father was a guest speaker. I think you'll appreciate this.'

  The two riders topped a small rise to view a meadow covered with a sea of blue flowers. They paused briefly on the hill as Stacy gazed awestruck at the beauty of the multiple blossoms waving brightly in the morning breeze. Mother Nature had covered the hill in a luxurious blanket of deep blue. In the distance they could hear the songs of birds bringing the earth alive on that hill.

  'It's beautiful, Jim. What are they?' Stacy exclaimed at last.

  'Bluebonnets.'

  'Such a beautiful blue, almost purple.' Her gaze remained on the flowers. 'They put the sky to shame.'

  'Shall we ride down?' he asked.

  Stacy didn't answer, but touched the pinto's flank with her heel. Single file the pair rode down the hill to the meadow, st
opping in the midst of the indigo profusion. Jim dismounted before Stacy and helped her-off her pony. His hand remained on her elbow as they walked companionably amongst the flowers. Stacy couldn't resist picking a small bouquet and inhaling the sweet fragrance.

  'I'm so glad you brought me here,' Stacy said, turning to face the young cowboy. She only had to raise her eyes a few inches to look into the light hazel ones.

  The hand that had been on her elbow slipped up to shoulder, and the cowboy's other hand moved to rest on the opposite side. The bouquet held in Stacy's hands was the only thing separating them when they both heard the sound of an approaching horse. Simultaneously they turned to face the hoofbeats. It only took Stacy an instant to recognize the rider sitting so straight in the saddle and the blood began pounding in her heart. Cord Harris reined his horse down the hill towards the couple, stopping just short of them.

  'Am I interrupting something?' came the implying tone. Not giving either one a chance to answer, he rested an arm on the saddle-horn and said, 'Then let's get back to work and save the flowers for off-duty hours.'

  Both Stacy and Jim mounted their ground-hitched horses with a certain amount of chagrin, fully conscious of the accusing dark eyes. Once on their way again, the rancher nudged his horse between the pair as if separating two naughty children. Stacy's lips set in a grim line, resentful of the childish way Cord was treating them. He was unmindful of her displeasure. After they had left the meadow of bluebonnets, Cord turned his head slightly towards the quiet cowboy riding on his left.

  'I want you to ride back to the main herd and help Jenkins on the point, Connors. I'll accompany Miss Adams back to where Hank is holding some strays,' ordered Cord in a tone that defied a negative answer.

  The young cowboy reined his pony abruptly away from Stacy and his employer, dug his spurs into the horse's flank and was away at a gallop. Angrily Stacy turned on the forbidding form still beside her.

  'You had no right to reprimand him. It was as much my fault as it was his.'

  'I'm glad you see it that way. It's just what I was thinking too,' Cord replied, an amused smile on his lips, but flashing fires in his eyes. 'However, if it's any of your business, I was looking for him to tell him just that before I found him with you.'

 

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