by Silver James
“Chance is talking to the Oklahoma City cops. They say we can’t use Fifteenth Street to push the herd through.”
“What? How the hell are we going to get them across I-44 then? We can’t swim them down the river, and the first dam is just past Meridian. If we don’t push them out of the river soon, we’ll be stuck.”
“Duh. Chance is negotiating with them. I’m thinking we take them just past MacArthur. They’re dredging the river there, and it’s a construction zone. We can drive the herd to the start of the riverside park and use the bike and running trail. That gets us under I-44. If we go all the way to Agnew, we can take them straight under the Stockyard City arch and to the stockyard pens. With the publicity you’re getting, all the merchants are lined up ready to help.” He held up his cell phone. “My contact at the chamber of commerce says they’re ready to block the intersections with their private vehicles if that’s what it takes.” He passed the phone to her so she could read the text for herself.
“I...this is just crazy.”
“And?”
She laughed. Cord seemed convinced they could do this. And Chance was a white knight fighting battles for her. “I say we unleash some crazy.”
They managed a steady speed of almost two miles an hour. Chance hadn’t returned, and she hoped he hadn’t been arrested. Cord assured her his brother wouldn’t let that happen, but she noticed he looked worried and checked both his phone and the view downriver every few minutes for some sign of Chance.
When the herd reached the construction area, the lead riders turned up the gently sloping bank. Cass topped out and reined in her horse. A cluster of police cars, with lights flashing, lined up to block any sort of egress to the street. She was relieved to find Chance, dismounted and talking to a policeman. Chance waved his hands to make some point and while she couldn’t hear his words, his posture and every gesture indicated how angry and frustrated he was. The cop responded with a jutted chin and hands stiff at his side as if he had to keep them there with effort.
She waved her riders and the herd on to the east. They wouldn’t try the street, instead opting for Cord’s suggestion. They would follow the upper riverbank, crossing under the roads between them and the stockyards. There was only undeveloped land until they hit Meridian Avenue. Any problem would likely crop up once they hit the bike trails and developed area between there and the stockyards where the land narrowed.
Cass couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder to keep an eye on Chance. And then all hell broke loose. Staccato pop-pop-pops sounded like gunfire. Her horse reared. The cattle panicked and surged every which way. She struggled to stay in the saddle as cops drew their weapons. Chance yelled and shoved the cop he’d been talking to out of the way as a knot of cows stampeded in their direction. He managed to hang on to his horse’s reins, leaped up on the animal and rode into the melee.
She heard Buddy barking wildly as he darted this way and that, nipping at the heels of the cattle, herding them away from the street. Two steers darted past the police line headed for a cluster of onlookers. She kicked her sorrel into a gallop to head them off. Buddy raced past her, nothing but a gray blur. Then everything went into slow motion.
A police car swerved in front of the cows to stop them. The driver slammed on his brakes when he realized he was going to hit them, and he twisted the wheel. The car went into a slide, the tires screaming in protest. Cass’s horrified yell was lost in the confusion. Buddy, intent on the steers, never saw the car. Despite all the yelling, the sirens, the mooing of panicked cattle, she still heard the sickening thud of metal meeting flesh and bone. Buddy yelped as he went flying. Forgetting everything but her dog, she jumped down and ran to the injured animal.
“Oh, Buddy, Buddy, Buddy.” She sobbed, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, leaving red streaks in the dust coating her skin. “Easy, boy. Easy. Just lie still. It’s going to be okay. Oh, please, God, let him be okay.” She touched his head, and he licked her wrist.
A warm hand gripped her shoulder with gentle fingers. “We’ll get him to the vet’s, Cass.” Chance’s voice cracked but he cleared his throat. “Heidi! Get a blanket!”
Cass didn’t hear Heidi’s reply but moments later, the woman appeared, her stylish heels sinking into the red Oklahoma dirt. She dropped to her knees, unheedful of her stockings and tailored linen skirt. The woman clutched a baseball-print fleece blanket and spread it out next to Buddy.
While Cass stroked the dog’s head and crooned to him, Chance carefully checked for injuries. With the gentleness of a father handling a newborn baby, he lifted Buddy just enough so that Heidi could slip the blanket beneath him. The dog whined but didn’t move. A police officer appeared, and before Cass could tell him off, he picked up one edge of the blanket.
“My car is this way, Mr. Barron. I’ll take the dog to the emergency vet’s.”
“I’m going, too.” She stood up and bent to take a corner of the blanket.
Chance pulled her against his chest. “No, love. You can’t. You need to get the herd back together and get them to the stockyards. Cord will help. I’ll go with Buddy. I promise he’ll be okay. I won’t let Buddy out of my sight.” His arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. The only way to beat the old man was for her to lead a triumphant parade into the stockyards. She had to do this. For herself. And for the two of them. “Now go do what you have to do. You have to finish this.”
He cupped her cheeks as she tilted her face up, and he dipped his head to kiss her. His thumbs caressed her skin, smearing tears and dirt. “Cowgirls don’t cry, Cass. And you are the finest damn cowgirl I’ve ever had the honor to meet. Now get your pretty ass back in that saddle and ride. Do this for you. For your dad. For the Crazy M Ranch.” For us, he added silently.
Cass drew in a long, shuddering breath. Her chin came up even as she leaned her forehead against Chance’s very solid chest. “Take care of Buddy, Chance. I’ll see you on the other side.”
She stepped back, but he didn’t release her. Not yet. Not until he claimed her mouth again. She clung to him through the kiss and for a moment longer. As his arms fell away, she turned on her heel and strode into the middle of the chaos, her back straight, her head held high.
Red waited nearby, one front foot stuck in the loop of the reins. He stood still as she approached and freed his foot. Grabbing up the reins, she shoved her boot in the stirrup, mounted and settled into her saddle. In less time than she anticipated, all the cattle were rounded up. Several of her riders had been injured, two seriously. A few of the cops suffered cuts and bruises but they were all on their feet. Cass was down to a handful of drovers, the herd was skittish, and they still had just over three miles to go.
One of the cops yelled and waved to her. She recognized him as the man Chance had been speaking with, so she waited as he approached. He grabbed one rein and stared up at her.
“Firecrackers. Some idiot let loose with a package of Black Cats.” The cop shook his head and spit on the ground. He glanced around and winced at the scene. “Keep to the riverbank and the park. We’ll patrol the overpasses, Miss Morgan. No one else will disrupt your trail drive. I didn’t want it to come to this, that’s for sure. But I had orders, ma’am.” As they watched, one of her riders was loaded into the back of an ambulance. “No sirree, I sure didn’t want it to come to this.”
“Neither did I.”
“Good luck, Miss Morgan.” He turned loose of her horse and stepped back as she put her heels to the sorrel.
Someone called her name, and she glanced back. A bevy of reporters clamored for her attention but she ignored them. The squad car with Chance and Buddy had already disappeared. The ambulance with her drover also pulled away, lights flashing, though the driver waited until the vehicle was well past the cattle herd before the sirens blared.
With the herd back in some semblance of order, she ret
urned to work. She would finish this. Come hell or high water, she’d get these cattle to the sale and get the money she needed to pay off the mortgage. Cyrus Barron damn sure wasn’t getting her ranch. For a brief moment, she wondered what the man would do when he discovered two of his sons had defected to her side in this private war of theirs.
Cord trotted up beside her and handed her a wet bandanna. “You might want to give your face a swipe, especially before we hit Stockyard City. At the moment, you look like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.”
“Gee, Cord. I bet the girls just swoon when you give them a compliment.”
He laughed. “I like you, Cassidy Morgan. Too bad my little brother met you first.”
She wiped her face and winced when she saw the dirty streaks staining the bandanna. “When this is done, I’m going to stand in the shower until there’s no hot water left in the tank.”
“I’d offer to scrub your back, but I have the feeling Chance will volunteer first.”
Up ahead, a cow broke ranks and before she could react, Cord urged his horse forward and charged after the miscreant steer. She watched the expert way he worked. Chance sat a horse just as well. And he’d helped her restring barbed wire fence like he’d done it all his life. Neither of these men acted as she expected. The Barrons were the closest thing to royalty in Oklahoma—in fact, one media wag had dubbed them Red Dirt Royalty. One brother was a US Senator. Another presided over a media empire that included newspapers, TV stations, resorts and an amusement park. A Barron and the senior partner in his own law firm, Chance hobnobbed with the rich and powerful.
But when he came to her place, when he wore his jeans and work shirt like he was born to them, Chance became a different man. He sat on the porch with her, holding her hand and petting Buddy...
At the thought of the beloved dog, her chest threatened to cave in. Buddy had to be okay. Chance would take care of him.
A steer ambled away from the herd, and she shook her head. This was no time to be daydreaming—especially about a man like Chance Barron declaring his love for her. “Yaw,” she yelled at the cow, urging Red after the critter.
The herd passed under Meridian without incident. Even though the riverside park system began here, there was little open space behind the hotels and office complexes. Land between “civilization” and the river narrowed. Her riders strung out in a thin line. The next hurdle would be Portland Avenue and then the I-44/I-40 interchange. She shuddered at the thought of any of the cattle making it up onto the interstate highway. Two miles. Two miles to the stockyards. She needed things to stay quiet for two more miles. She managed a deep breath. Chance was right. She would succeed.
She continuously rode back and forth, encouraging her drovers, chasing steers back into line and trying not to get her hopes up. They passed Portland Avenue. Just as with the Meridian corridor, a large police presence kept traffic and onlookers at bay. A couple of the officers even offered surreptitious thumbs-up gestures as she passed beneath them.
The strip of land they traversed widened, and the herd bunched up a little more. Ahead, an office building and huge parking lot would choke them down into almost single file. Red whickered and shook his head. His lathered neck proved how hard he’d been working. All the horses, and their riders, too, looked worn out.
Boots, still riding at the head of the herd, let out a whoop. She stood in her stirrups to see what new problem they faced. To her surprise, a knot of riders advanced from the east. Clicking her tongue, she eased Red into a trot and headed to meet them. She reined in as she reached Boots and let the riders approach.
The lead rider stopped and tipped his hat. “Miz Morgan? We’re members of the Stockyard City Sheriff’s Posse.”
She cringed. What now? She thought the sheriff’s department had accepted Chance’s injunction. Before she could respond, he continued.
“We heard about that dust up back down the way. We’d have been here sooner to help but some of us needed to go get our horses.”
She blinked and then blinked again. “Help? You’re here to help?”
“Yes, ma’am, we are. Some of these boys might look like city slickers, but we know how to ride and work cattle.” Since the man wore dress pants and a button-down shirt with a loosened tie, he likely qualified as one of those city slickers.
Her eyes burned, and she blinked hard. “Help.” She glanced at Boots and answered his big grin with one of her own. She finally remembered her manners. “Uh...thanks!”
The ten riders headed west and circled around to fill in blank spots along the herd. She twisted in her saddle so she could watch, and relaxed after a few minutes. Yeah, even though that one guy probably left his suit coat in his office, he sat his horse with ease. Beside her, Boots grinned like the Cheshire cat.
“What?”
He laughed. “If you could see the expression on your face, sugar. You look like you just walked into a glass door, thinking it was open.”
“Gee, thanks, Uncle Boots. But...yeah. I guess the description fits. I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. I...I just can’t believe all these people want to help. The media. The cops.” Another word hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t voice it.
“Chance.”
Yeah. That was the one. “He’s a Barron, Uncle Boots. His father is the cause of all of this. I—” She huffed out a breath. “How can I trust him?”
They rode in silence for a few minutes before Boots spoke up. “Look inside his heart, baby girl. Tally up all the things he’s done to help you. Despite his father. Sometimes blood is thicker than just about anything. But sometimes, a woman loves a man so much she’s willing to give up everything for him because she knows he loves her more than anything in the world.”
She glanced at him. “That sounds like you’re talking about Momma and Daddy.”
“I suppose I am, Cassie. Even way back then, Cyrus Barron was a man on the way up. He had a big ranch with lots of cattle, and the horses he bred were some of the finest in the country. He didn’t lease his oil and gas royalty rights. He started his own drilling company. And that eventually became Barron Oil. If your momma had married him, she’d have been a rich woman.”
Boots took off his hat and wiped his forehead with a bandanna before continuing. “Your daddy was a rodeo cowboy without a pot to piss in. But after that beating, layin’ there in the hospital, your momma holdin’ his hand and tellin’ him how much she loved him, he figured he’d better do something with his life. He scraped together every bit of cash and credit he had and bought the home place. He knew rodeo. And he knew rodeo stock. He started small, but the rodeo folks knew they’d get quality if they hired him. Your momma was there each step of the way, keepin’ the books, cleanin’ out pens, whatever it took. Until she got sick.”
Cass nodded and swallowed hard against the nausea. Her mother had been so sick from pneumonia and despite the breathing tubes and everything else, she couldn’t fight the disease.
“You find a love like what your momma and daddy shared, baby girl, you grab on with both hands and never let go.” He dipped his chin and stared forward. “Highway’s just up a ways. We’d better get ready.”
Cass reined Red to a stop on the slope leading up to the interstate right-of-way. A line of riders flanked the road on each side of the overpass. To her now-practiced eye, the herd looked as worn out as her drovers and their horses. Just about a mile now. She exhaled in relief when the last drag rider passed by and disappeared under the overpass. She followed.
On the other side, the herd had bunched tightly again and moved forward like some weird amoeba. Cass could only imagine what the scene looked like from above. Maybe someday, she’d catch a news report to see the footage shot from a helicopter. In the meantime, she had cows to get to market. She rode up the line, urging tired riders and cattle onward.
The news helic
opter disappeared, heading west. Cass glanced over her shoulder hoping it wasn’t focusing on something bad happening to the drag riders. It kept flying straight and as she watched, lightning flickered in the clouds massing on the western horizon.
“I knew it,” she muttered. “Red skies in the morning, sailors...and cowboys take warning.” She glanced at her watch. With luck, she’d have the herd delivered to the stockyards, and they’d all be safely in their pens by the time the storm moved in. Nothing to panic over. Yet.
Seventeen
The new bridge with the fancy streetlights loomed ahead. Agnew Avenue. If Chance was right, the street would be blocked to traffic, and she could bring the herd right down the middle of the street. Cord cantered up to her and slowed his horse to match hers.
“About time for you to move up, Cass. You should be at the head of this parade.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t do this for attention, Cord. If your father had stayed out of things, I’d be back on the ranch with the loan paid.” She felt her face flush as her blood pressure spiked.
“Yeah, he’s a real sonofabitch. And I figure he’s probably not quite done yet. Chance will do everything he can to stop whatever the old man has up his sleeve.”
“But...?”
“But?”
“Yeah, I heard a but on the end of that sentence.” She turned to stare at him, and more than her blood pressure hammered in her ears. “He’s going to turn Chance against me, isn’t he?” She muttered a string of cusswords but didn’t smile when Cord laughed at her. “Damn the man!”
“Which one?”
His quiet question surprised her. “Your...” She blinked and shut her mouth while she considered her answer, which came in the form of a question. “Will he succeed?”
