“Well, if’n it ain’t LeRoy Banks,” Delvin said wearily, pushing back his limp felt hat and wiping his long black hair from his eyes. Parker only scowled, but LeRoy could tell it wasn’t directed at him. He seemed fed up, played out, itching to get a hot meal and a bath and fall facedown onto his bunk.
“You got anythin’ to eat?” Parker asked. More like demanded. His eyes narrowed as he took in the mule loaded up with Gennie’s things.
LeRoy threw a glance to Gennie, who stood huddled with her wolf in the trees behind him. He took a slow circle around the horses, making sure they were no worse for wear. They had a few scratches, and they looked peckish and tired, but in better shape than the men who rode them. He gave the horses a few reassuring pats. You’ll be down in that pasture with your pals soon. Plenty of grass waiting for you. And a bucket of oats, I reckon.
“Where’d ya get that mule? And all that stuff?” Delvin asked as LeRoy shucked his pack off his shoulder and handed the men each an inch-thick slab of venison jerky. LeRoy watched them gobble down the meat faster than any wolf might. He gave them more. They didn’t thank him, but LeRoy wasn’t surprised. He took note the wariness and unease in their horses’ eyes. No doubt they smelled the wolf-dog nearby, but LeRoy guessed the mule’s relaxed manner put a damper on the natural fear they had. Which got LeRoy to wondering how a horse would tell a dog from a wolf at a distance.
“This here belongs to the lady,” he said, gesturing to Gennie, who made no step to show herself. But LeRoy didn’t expect her to.
Delvin and Parker craned forward and strained to see her. “What’re ya doin’ with a lady and her mule?” Delvin asked, completely perplexed. “I thought you was off trackin’ the bear.”
“I was,” LeRoy answered evenly, shifting on his feet. He was already done with this conversation and wanted to get down to Whitcomb’s before dark. He thought of asking the men to give him their horses so he could get Gennie to the ranch quicker, but he knew what they’d say.
Parker sniggered. “So instead of catchin’ a bear, you got yerself a woman?”
“Nope,” LeRoy said. “In addition to.”
“Huh?” Parker asked, his scowl returned. He slipped down off his horse and stretched his legs.
“Killed the bear,” LeRoy said.
Parker laughed in cool disdain. “Right. So where is it? I don’t see no bear pelt on that mule.” He started walking toward the trees, but LeRoy blocked his way.
“It’s back up on the ridge. We skinned and butchered it. It’s packed in snow. We’ll head back up next week and fetch it.”
Now Delvin joined in laughing with Parker. LeRoy gritted his teeth. These men were getting on his nerves. He didn’t expect much trouble, seeing as they had Whitcomb to answer to. But he had nothing to prove to them. If they didn’t believe him, so what?
Parker leaned around LeRoy to look at Gennie. “So, why you hidin’ this lady o’ your’n?” He called out to Gennie. “Hey, miss. C’mon out. Let me see ya.”
“She doesn’t want to meet you, Parker. Leave her be.”
Parker grabbed LeRoy’s shirt collar and got up into his face. “What are you—some kind of protector? Where’d ya find her anyway? Just wanderin’ the woods, on the scout for a man?” He let out another bark of jagged laughter and pushed LeRoy aside. Delvin just sat his horse and smiled like he thought Parker was funny.
“You want a real man, honey?” Parker spread open his arms and headed toward Gennie. “I’m the fella you want. Not this half-breed who doesn’t even know how to put his pants on—”
LeRoy grabbed Parker’s arm. “That’s far enough, Parker.”
The ranch hand shoved LeRoy with a scowl, a mean spite in his eyes. “Outta my way, Injun.”
LeRoy’s anger boiled. He grasped Parker’s wrist, then swung his fist into the man’s jaw. Parker threw his hand to his face, enraged.
“Why, you—”
LeRoy stopped Parker’s bellyaching with a hard punch to his gut. Parker moaned, cradled his stomach, and stumbled back. LeRoy knew the man, being weak from hunger and lack of sleep, wasn’t acting in full control of his faculties. But that was no excuse for showing such disrespect to a woman.
LeRoy made out Gennie’s terrified face. Great. Now she’ll want to hightail it back to the cabin, bolt the door, and never come out. He blew out a breath and marched up to Parker, who stood glowering at LeRoy, his fists shaking in fury.
“Parker, you have ten seconds to apologize to this lady. And then you’re gonna walk over to that tree yonder and sit down. If’n you so much as scratch a flea on your sorry scalp, you’ll be sorrier than a chicken without its head. I’ll see to it you crawl the rest of the way to Whitcomb’s. That is, if’n you can move faster than her wolf.”
LeRoy slapped the side of his leg, and Peluche came trotting toward them, out of the shadows of the pines. The two horses jerked at the sight and set to prancing but didn’t bolt.
Parker went slack-jawed, then screamed like a pig and ran to the tree. Delvin’s horse reared up and threw him to the ground. Peluche obediently sat on her haunches next to LeRoy, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, looking amused. Delvin stood and dusted off his pants, his cocky smile gone. He went over to Parker, and the two of them stood, mouths open, with their backs up against the tree.
The horses presently settled down some once they saw the wolf had no mean intent. LeRoy guessed that though horses knew wolves were dangerous predators and would normally be terrified, Peluche didn’t give off a whiff of the hunter in her. Or maybe they detected the dog part of her. They eyed her warily, but the fear had fled their faces. He figured that was how they’d act. They smelled more than saw danger. She was just a big gentle dog in their eyes, and they lived with a whole passel of dogs on the ranch. Maybe none this big, but few were as gentle—if you got on her good side.
LeRoy walked over to the two men who stood trembling against the tree, his rifle now in hand. Peluche stayed by Gennie’s side.
“I haven’t heard that apology yet,” LeRoy said to Parker. “Gennie,” he called, “Come on out.”
He watched her hesitate, but she took a few steps toward him and emerged into the bright sunlight.
Parker sniggered. “That’s a lady? She looks like a boy. Her hair’s all chopped up, and she’s wearin’ men’s clothes.” Delvin knew better than to open his trap. He just stared at the wolf.
LeRoy scowled at him and wagged a finger in his face. “She helped me kill that bear. Shot him at close range. Didn’t run, not even flinch.” He smiled. “I bet you couldn’t even find the grizzly. If’n you had, you would have run for your life. That bear was a whole lot scarier than that li’l ol’ wolf over there.”
LeRoy caught Gennie’s smile out of the corner of his eye. She took a few steps. That’s a start. She hasn’t run yet.
“I’m waitin’,” LeRoy said to Parker.
Parker gulped and swept his hat off his head, revealing his dirty-brown mop of unwashed, unkempt hair. He looked more raggedy than that old bear. He lowered his head and faced Gennie, who stood a good ten feet back. LeRoy didn’t blame her for keeping her distance. Who wouldn’t? The man stank to high heaven.
“I’m sorry, miss. I . . . I didn’t mean any insult.”
Sure you didn’t.
“Okay, I’m thinkin’ you might show the lady some respect by lettin’ her ride your horse the rest of the way—”
“What!” Parker took a step forward, but LeRoy fingered his rifle. Parker’s eyes dropped to the gun in LeRoy’s hand.
“You two c’n take turns riding Delvin’s mustang.”
“No way, Banks—”
“Now see here,” Delvin started.
“And, to show you my gratitude, I won’t tell Whitcomb and your ranch pals how you two sorry fools got lost and nearly died of starvation searching for that grizzly.”
The men fell quiet.
“I’ll leave you some more food. You got a creek yonder, so if’n you don’t get l
ost walking the twenty feet thataway, you can fill your canteens. I reckon you’ll make it down to the ranch if’n you follow us.” He glared at Parker. “Just keep a good distance, or I’ll sic the wolf on ya.”
LeRoy got busy adjusting the stirrups for Gennie’s shorter legs. Maybe he’d talk to Whitcomb about cutting short his horse-breaking. He was supposed to stay another few weeks, but now the thought of living in the bunkhouse with these men lost every ounce of appeal. He’d be stupid to think they wouldn’t come after him with some kind of payback. Besides, he had Gennie to think of. Although he knew Whitcomb would let her stay at the ranch while he worked the horses, LeRoy worried about her adjusting. What she really needed was time. Time to get used to living someplace else. A quiet place, where she could busy herself. She was so much like him, he realized more and more each day he spent with her.
He took a package of venison out and threw it at the men. Then he untied Delvin’s rifle from the saddle strings of the mustang. “You got any more guns?” he asked.
The men shook their heads. They could be lying, but LeRoy knew they wouldn’t chance doing anything that would cost them their jobs at the ranch—or their lives. These men were cowboys, not outlaws. Nothing like that Clyde Wymore of the Dutton Gang. These men didn’t really want to make trouble. They were just knuckleheads—and they’d want their guns back. He tucked the two rifles under his arm and slung his over his shoulder.
Taking the mule’s lead rope and the quarter horse’s reins in hand, he walked over to Gennie and helped her mount the horse. After a final adjustment of the stirrups and tightening the cinch on the saddle, he handed her the reins. He secured the cowboys’ rifles behind the saddle cantle.
“Just head yonder,” he said to her, pointing down the deer track. “I’ll be right behind you. Me and Peluche.
He reached for her hand and planted a kiss on it. He whispered to her, “See, I told you I’d keep you safe. Always will.”
She gave him that sweet smile that set his heart aflutter. “Thank you, LeRoy. It feels nice to be on a horse. It’s been a long while since I’ve ridden one.”
“Well, then. You’re gonna have plenty of horses to ride from here on out, and plenty of time to ride them. And I don’t reckon you’ll have to fend off any grizzlies ever again. I hope that’ll suit you.”
“That’ll suit me just fine, LeRoy Banks.” She smiled wider. “Just fine.”
Chapter 14
Gennie swallowed hard as Whitcomb’s big ranch house loomed ahead in the glare of the fall afternoon sunlight. The sky had cleared, and the pastures chock-full of horses were thick with brown-green ankle-high grass. A few patches of snow lingered in the shade under the aspens backing the fence line, but it was clear the storm that had buried her and LeRoy for a week had made nary a mark down in the river valley.
The horse she rode let out a loud whinny, which detonated a reply in the herd. Back up the ridge behind her, the mustang those two ranch hands had been riding joined in the ruckus. Gennie was glad they’d kept their distance, although she knew she was safe with LeRoy. But now her previous trepidation welled up and fixed a stranglehold on her throat. She couldn’t help but fear how others would react to her. LeRoy’s reassurances were well-meaning, but he didn’t know what it was like for her, how hard this was.
Aside from brief exchanges with Whitcomb, Gennie hadn’t spoken to another human for years—not until LeRoy had shown up. And while she’d found it easier to talk once she opened up and trusted him, she knew LeRoy cared for her, and that affection set her at ease. But not everyone was going to receive her so kindly, and that troubled her. She couldn’t very well hide under the brim of her hat and behind the muzzle of her gun any longer. Not if she wanted to find her place in the world, among other people.
She forced her thoughts from her fears and smiled thinking of the many long conversations they had this last week as they worked around the cabin to get ready to leave. As she shared stories of living in the mountains, LeRoy had often stared at her in astonishment. Tales of near-death dangers, the times she’d forded icy creeks and ponds to fetch the beavers Old Bill had shot, the avalanche that had nearly buried her during a spring downpour. The talked long into the nights about their families, and Gennie had cried aplenty, with LeRoy’s comforting arms around her. He told humorous stories of his father and brother, and amazed her with accounts of his mother’s uncanny ability to sense things to come, and the way she could communicate with animals. Gennie felt as if she’d known LeRoy and his family all her life, and while she looked forward to meeting them, she couldn’t help but worry what they’d think of her—despite LeRoy insisting they’d love her just as much as he did.
Her heart pounded hard thinking about LeRoy’s warm kisses and strong arms. He’d treated her with tender care this last week, as if she was a precious, fragile thing—and she was, underneath all that thick skin. She’d developed that skin to survive, but now she was shedding it, and it frightened her. She needed to let the pain seep out and the love seep in. That was the only way she would heal, LeRoy had told her.
She knew he was right. His words swam in her head: “It’ll take as long as it takes. Be patient.” Well, if he was willing to help her, she’d get through. But in this moment, watching Whitcomb emerge from the ranch house and rush toward them, followed by a dozen or so others—men and women—Gennie fought the need to spin the horse around and head back up the trail.
LeRoy came alongside her, and the mule threw his head back and brayed loudly, as if glad to be off the mountain and out of the snow. Maybe he sensed the safety and comradeship the other animals offered. She suddenly wondered if the mule had been just as lonely and despondent as she’d been. All creatures needed companionship, she realized. It wasn’t good for any to live alone, in isolation. Even her wolf, standing at LeRoy’s side, thumped her tail and grinned happily. No doubt she’s thinking of all the food she’s gonna get.
“Well, look at that,” LeRoy said, doffing his hat and rubbing his head. “I thought all them folks would have gone home by now.” He laid a hand on Gennie’s shaking wrist, then turned and looked up into her face as she sat the horse. “Hey,” he said. “It’ll be all right. You don’t have to say nothin’ at all, if’n you don’t want to.”
She nodded, her throat tight and her mouth dry. Fear pulsed through her body, and though she wanted to pull a hat down over her eyes, she instead held her head up. There would be no more hiding, not ever again.
LeRoy had raged upon hearing how Old Bill had treated her, over the things the mean old man had said to her, drilling into her that sense of shame and worthlessness. LeRoy told her she’d been drenched in lies, that she needed to strip them all off and, like shedding those manly clothes full of deception, needed to put on a new appearance, one that truly reflected her heart. He told her to hold her head up and be proud of her accomplishments. “For it’s not every day,” he said, “a person can brag about facin’ down a grizzly. And I mean more than that big ol’ bear. I mean the circumstances of your life and what you been through.”
Whitcomb ran over in his hobbly gait, looking older and heavier than she remembered him. Last time she saw him was early spring, if she recollected right. When he got within ten feet he stopped, a big grin on his face upon recognizing her. He waggled a hand behind him, and the crowd of onlookers halted and kept back at a respectable distance. LeRoy said some words to Peluche, and the wolf obediently lay down at his feet.
Whitcomb eyed the wolf, then his gaze locked on LeRoy. “Well, LeRoy, seems I don’t have to send that search party after you now. The fellas are saddling up as we speak. We were waitin’ for the snow to melt up on the mountain.”
LeRoy shook Whitcomb’s hand. “Y’all didn’t have to worry. A little snow isn’t such a big deal.” He shot Gennie a sweet crooked smile, and her heart warmed.
“You find that bear? And whatcha doing on Parker’s horse? Where’s Parker and Delvin?”
“They’re comin’. And we took care o
f that bear.” He tipped his head toward Gennie.
“That so?” Whitcomb eyed Gennie and nodded with a polite smile and tip of his big hat. “Didn’t reckon I’d see you down here. How you been farin’ up there in that cabin of yours?”
Gennie cleared her throat, about to lapse into the deeper voice she’d always used when she came down to trade with Whitcomb, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.
“Honey, I’m glad to see you here with LeRoy.” He studied her face, and her cheeks heated under his inspection. His words flustered her.
“I . . . I don’t understand.”
Whitcomb chuckled. “Your disguise never fooled me. Well, mebbe when you was younger, those first times Old Bill brought you down. But once you grew . . . well, it was hard to miss that you were a girl.”
Gennie’s eyes widened as his words sank in. “You mean . . . you’ve known for years—?”
Whitcomb flashed a big smile. “Honey, your secret’s been safe with me. I tried to talk you into comin’ down and stayin’ here, if’n you recall, but you’d have none of it. It sorely vexed me thinkin’ of you being up in that cabin with that crusty ol’ fella, all those years. And then when he passed . . .” He whistled and shook his head. “I’ve never seen the likes of you—a woman so capable, so brave. Willing to face such hardships and dangers all alone.”
Gennie was flabbergasted. All these years, Whitcomb had known her secret? She then thought back on the many times he’d given her extra supplies, loaded her up with way more than she’d asked for or what she could afford. He’d been helping her, looking out for her in his own way. Her heart welled up with gratitude and a touch of embarrassment.
Wild Secret, Wild Longing: A Sweet Historical Western Romance Novella (The Front Range Series Book 3) Page 12
