by Cox, Carol
“No, thank you.” Hallie looked at Pete with distaste. With his stocky build and self-assured air, he could almost pass for a younger version of her father. Their demeanor, though, could not have been more different. Her father’s expression often looked as if it had been carved from a block of granite, but Hallie never doubted the depth of his love for her. Pete, on the other hand, generally sported a smile, but it held all the warmth of a coyote’s grin when eyeing a cottontail.
Right now his smile set warning bells off inside her head. “Excuse me. I need to go inside now.” She angled to her left, intending to give Pete a wide berth.
He took a step to his right and blocked her way. “You don’t have to be coy, Hallie. I know you like me.”
Hallie caught herself in midstride and shifted to the right. Pete followed suit. “Darlin’, if you want to dance with me, just say the word.”
Hallie flushed, and he let out a low rumble of a laugh. She felt the sting of tears.
Pete’s broad face split in one of his coyote smiles. “Face it, Hallie. You can’t get away from me unless I let you. You might as well give up and admit how you feel about me.”
I can’t tell you what I think of you, Pete Edwards. My mother raised me to be a lady. Hallie’s glance darted from Pete to the kitchen door. Even listening to her father and Edgar Wilson haranguing would be better than this. “Leave me alone, Pete.”
In answer, he spread his arms wide and took a step toward her. Hallie darted toward the left, then scurried to the right. The abrupt change in direction caught Pete off guard, and she slipped past him.
Her moccasins churned up puffs of dust as she raced toward the house. Behind her, Pete’s taunting voice rang clear: “You can run away this time, but there’ll be another. I know where to find you when I want you.”
Hallie slammed the kitchen door shut and bolted it behind her. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she slumped to the floor and bent her head to her knees. “Thank You, Jesus.”
With no thought but seeking the safety of her father’s presence, she jumped to her feet and hurried to the front room, only then remembering they had a visitor. To her relief, Edgar Wilson stood on the porch, taking his leave.
“I’m telling you, Burke, this is a bad business.” The lean rancher’s eyes flashed. “We can’t take it lying down.”
Her father pounded his fist into his palm. “I don’t intend to. If these fellows keep messing with me, they’re in big trouble. Count on it.” He stepped back into the doorway. A grim expression hardened his features.
Hallie held herself in check until he closed the door, then ran to him. “I need to talk to you.”
Her father turned away from the door and looked at her. “It’s a good thing Wilson stopped by.”
“Pa, please. I don’t know what to do.”
Her father rubbed the back of his neck with a calloused hand. “I don’t, either. It turns out I’m not alone. Wilson’s been losing cattle, too.”
“This is getting out of hand—”
“I know. I kept trying to convince myself it was due to natural causes—a mountain lion, maybe. But it doesn’t look like that anymore. We never came across any carcasses, for one thing. And with stock going missing from both our places. . .” He shook his head slowly.
“It’s getting so I’m afraid to go outside the house anymore.”
Her father set his mouth in a grim line. “If someone’s stealing cattle, I can tell you one thing: They’re going to pay for it.” He raised a meaty fist and slammed it against the wall. The window glass rattled in its frame. “I haven’t spent twenty years building up this ranch to hand the profits over to some no-account too lazy to do an honest day’s work.”
Hallie grabbed his arm and hung on tight. “Dad, it’s about Pete.”
Her father’s head jerked around. “Pete? What are you talking about?”
She finally had his attention. The relief made her weak. “He keeps waylaying me whenever he catches me outside. I’ve asked him to leave me alone—more than once—but he won’t. Could you talk to him, maybe tell him to keep his distance? I know he’ll listen to you.”
Her father bristled. His eyes took on a glint that made Hallie take a quick step back. “What do you mean, keep his distance? Has he touched you?”
“No, nothing like that. He just. . .comes up on me and talks to me. No matter what I tell him, he won’t stay away. I really need your help, Pa.”
Her father’s bark of laughter grated on her ears. “So you’ve finally come out of your dream world long enough to realize you’re a grown woman now.” His tone softened, and he patted her arm awkwardly. “You’re a fine-looking girl, Hallie. You take after your mother that way. You can’t blame Pete. He’d be less than a man if he didn’t notice. Don’t take on about it. It’s nothing serious.”
The forbidding expression returned to his face, and he pointed a meaty finger at her. “Don’t you go getting all uppity and running off my best hand, do you hear me? Pete knows nearly as much about raising cattle as I do, and with the problems I’m facing now, I need his help more than ever.”
Hallie’s jaw sagged. “But Pa—”
“Maybe I’ve made a mistake, letting you have the run of the range. I don’t need you being out there causing problems and getting my men all stirred up.”
“Pa!”
Burke strode off. “I’ll be in my office. Call me when supper’s ready.”
Hallie stared after him, a feeling of helplessness spreading through her. A leaden weight settled in her chest. Choking back the tears that threatened to flood her eyes, she went to the kitchen to start the evening meal.
She pulled a slab of meat from the cooling box and began to cut it into chunks for stew. Her earlier discontent stirred within her again, a longing for something she couldn’t define.
One thing she knew beyond a doubt: Whatever she was longing for, it had nothing to do with Pete Edwards.
Three
Jacob squinted and tipped his hat brim farther down over his eyes. After nearly a week on the trail, he felt more than ready for the trip to end. Time to get down to business and put some of his dreams into action.
He checked the sun’s position. If he hurried, he ought to be stepping up onto Dan’s front porch just in time for supper. And if Amy was still as good a cook as he remembered, that would be a goal worth shooting for. He grinned and tapped the horse’s flanks with his heels to push him into a trot down the length of Lonesome Valley toward Coyote Springs.
Lonesome Valley. The name suited the place, he’d always thought. A wide, rolling plain flanked by mountains on three sides. Lush grass waved in the light breeze, in stark contrast to the desert terrain he’d climbed out of the day before. Buckbrush and manzanita scattered across the valley floor, giving way to the cedars that covered the foothills and the pines crowning Mingus Mountain. This land promised a host of surprises, enough that it would take years to discover them all. Spending years—or the rest of his life—in this spot would suit him just fine.
Clouds hung low in the sky, forming a backdrop for the mountains. Where the clouds broke, golden light splashed over the ground below, as if an artist had dabbed it with a paint-laden brush.
Jacob reined his mount to the right, veering off the main road and heading toward Dan’s ranch. The steel-dust pricked up his ears, seeming to sense his rider’s eagerness to reach their destination. “We’re almost there, boy.” Jacob patted the horse’s neck. “Just a few more miles and it’s a rubdown and some oats for you.” And a new life for me.
An hour later, he spotted a herd of cows dotting the hillside. He stopped to give his horse a rest under the only tree in the area while he looked them over. A fine-looking bunch, he thought. They’d wintered well, with a full contingent of wobbly-legged newborn calves at their sides. Off to the right, a massive white-faced bull pawed the earth, showering his red coat with dust.
Jacob pursed his lips in a soft whistle. Dan’s letter said he intended to impro
ve the quality of his stock. If he’d gone to the expense of bringing in a registered Hereford bull to build up the strain, he meant business.
Excitement flickered through him. Big things were happening here, and he would be a part of bringing them to life. He leaned forward and stroked his horse’s neck. “Rested up, boy? Let’s go get some dinner.”
“Uncle Jacob?”
The voice seemed to come out of thin air. Jacob twisted from side to side in his saddle, looking for its source.
“Up here,” the voice called.
He craned his neck to look up into the branches of the alligator juniper. Dusty boots, spindly legs, and a flounce of skirt dangled six feet above his head. Atop the calico dress, he spotted a crown of coppery-gold curls. Jacob felt his eyes bulge. “Catherine?”
“Uh-huh.” Dan O’Roarke’s eight-year-old daughter began to pick her way down from limb to limb. When she reached his level, she crouched on a branch and looked him in the eye. “Will you give me a ride home?”
“Why, sure.” Jacob reached out and pulled the little girl into his arms, then scooted back onto the cantle to make room for her in front of him.
Catherine snuggled back against him as though they were getting ready to set out on a pleasure ride. “Thanks, Uncle Jacob. I was getting tired of sitting up there. My legs were starting to get stiff.”
Jacob shook his head. “How did you get up there in the first place?”
“I climbed.”
“I meant, what were you doing up there?”
“Oh, that. I got off my horse to. . .well, you know.” She giggled and pointed off toward a clump of nearby bushes. “And then that ol’ bull started pawing the ground and my horse spooked and took off and I had to climb the tree to get away from the bull.”
“He didn’t come after you, did he?”
“Not until I hit him with a rock. I thought it would make him go away. It didn’t. That’s when I decided I’d be better off up in the tree.”
Jacob’s blood ran cold at the thought of what a two-thousand-pound bull could do to a little girl. He touched Cap’s flanks with his spurs and urged him into an easy canter. Another thought came to mind. “How far are we from the house, anyway? It’s at least half a mile, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.” Catherine’s casual air would have done credit to an actress on stage.
“You guess so? What’s a little thing like you doing so far away from home by herself?”
Catherine adopted a haughty tone. “I was fine until that bull came along. I can go wherever I want.”
Jacob kept his opinions to himself as they rode on. When they neared the house, a small figure bounded off the porch and ran to meet them. Jacob recognized Catherine’s brother, Benjamin.
“Where have you been?” the boy demanded. Then he added, “Hi, Uncle Jacob.”
“Out riding.” Catherine slid down off Cap’s back and rearranged her clothing, then strolled off toward the back of the house.
Benjamin hurried to catch up to her. “Your horse came back an hour ago.”
“I found her out where the cows are grazing,” Jacob called. “About half a mile down the road.”
Ben’s eyes rounded. “Half a mile! Boy, are you going to catch it when Ma and Pa find out.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Am not!”
“Are, too!”
Their voices trailed off as they rounded the corner of the house. A few moments later, a smiling woman rushed out onto the porch, her hands outstretched in welcome. “Jacob! Catherine told me you just arrived. Welcome to the T Bar.”
Jacob dismounted and stretched. “It’s good to be here. Is Dan around?”
“I’m expecting him any minute. Supper is almost ready, so why don’t you take care of your horse and wash the trail dust off? He ought to be here by the time you’re finished.” She clasped her hands together. “I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you here. Dan’s been talking about nothing else all week.”
A weight lifted off Jacob’s shoulders. He was home. He hurried to the barn and pulled Cap’s saddle off, then brushed him down and settled him in a stall with a manger full of hay. After sluicing water from the rain barrel over his arms, face, and neck, he headed for the house.
Dan opened the door before Jacob reached the top of the porch steps and welcomed him with a bear hug. “Good to see you. Come on in. Amy has supper on the table.”
The scent of steak and fresh-baked bread drew him toward the dining room where Amy sat, flanked by Benjamin and Catherine. “Have a seat and make yourself at home. I hope you enjoy the meal.”
After Dan said grace, Jacob made quick work of his dinner. Amy’s cooking was every bit as good as he remembered.
“Are you ready to start work in the morning?” Dan asked.
“You bet. What do you want me to do first? I’m ready to tackle whatever you want.”
“I thought I’d take you around and show you the water holes and lay out the plans I have for this place.” Dan’s face took on a look of pride. “Wait until you see Imbroglio.”
“Imbrolly-who?”
Everyone at the table laughed. “Alistair’s Crimson Imbroglio. My new bull. He’s a papered Hereford. I had him shipped in from back East.”
Jacob chewed slowly, avoiding Catherine’s pleading gaze. “I ran across him on the way in. He’s a fine specimen, all right. He ought to do a good job for you.”
Dan tilted his head. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying not to tell me something?”
Catherine pushed back her chair. “May I be excused, Mama?”
Amy frowned. “Yes, you may. But please don’t interrupt. Go on, Jacob.”
Both the children sidled toward the door. Jacob tried to shake off the feeling he was being marked as an informant.
“I’m not the only one who encountered Imbroglio this afternoon. I found your daughter perched up in a tree about fifty yards away from him on my way in.”
“Catherine?” Dan’s face darkened. “Catherine Elizabeth O’Roarke, what were you doing out around those cows?”
The only answer was the sound of feet scuttling across the floor and Benjamin’s voice: “Told you! You really will catch it.”
“Will not.”
“Will, too.”
“Will not!”
Amy pressed her hands against her cheeks and gave Jacob an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. This is no way to welcome you on your first night here.”
Jacob chuckled. “Don’t give it a second thought. They sound just like Emma and I did at that age. It makes me feel right at home. I’m just sorry for getting Catherine in trouble. I hate to be a tattletale.”
“That child!” Amy spread her hands wide. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with her. She’s always into something.”
“She needs a strong hand, that’s for sure.” Dan arched his eyebrows at his wife.
Jacob decided it was time to change the subject. “She’s sure growing up to be a cute one, though. Where did she get all that red-gold hair?”
“That came from my aunt Carrie,” Dan replied. “According to my mother, Catherine looks exactly like her younger sister.”
“But that mind of her own comes straight from your mother,” Amy noted.
“True enough,” Dan agreed. “But Mother isn’t quite so quick to point that out.” He and Amy both sputtered with laughter.
Jacob joined them, feeling more relaxed than he had in months. A yawn stretched his lips wide, and he clapped his hand over his mouth. “I guess I’m farther gone than I thought.” He pushed his chair back. “Where do you want me to stow my gear?”
“You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight,” Dan told him. He held up his hand when Jacob started to protest. “You can move out to the bunkhouse tomorrow, if you’ve a mind to, but tonight you’re our guest, not an employee.”
Jacob hesitated. Special privileges like sleeping in the boss’s house wouldn’t win him any points with
the other hands. But after nights of lying on the hard ground, his weary body craved the thought of sleeping on a real mattress. He nodded and followed Dan down the hallway. He could get down to business tomorrow.
❧
“Look out! She’s going under.”
“Get a rope on her, Jacob.”
Jacob pushed Cap as close as he dared to the edge of the mud around the water hole. He picked his way carefully, not wanting to get bogged down in the same clinging mire that held the cow captive.
He swung the loop around his head. Cap sidestepped to pull loose from the muck at the same instant Jacob released the rope. The loop fell short of the cow by a yard.
Jacob felt himself redden. Some asset he’d be to the T Bar, if he couldn’t do a simple thing like roping a cow when her life was in danger. No telling how long she’d been struggling there. Long enough, at any rate, to get herself bogged down clear up to her belly with no means of getting out on her own. Long enough to wear herself out to the point she could barely hold her head above water level. Off to the side, her calf bawled plaintively.
If they didn’t get her out soon, she would drown. Jacob backed his horse out to come in at a better angle. He looked up in time to see Eb Landrum’s rope snake out in a graceful arc and settle over the exhausted cow’s horns. Eb’s horse dug in and leaned back on its haunches, holding the rope taut.
I should have been able to catch her. Jacob shook off his disgust and sprang from his saddle to wade across the mud. The bog pulled at his boots, sucking them deeper into the muck with every labored step. Next thing you know, they’ll have to lasso me to pull me out.
The cow bellowed, a high-pitched sound that ended on a wheezing note. If they didn’t get her out fast, she’d be a goner. Her calf bawled back at her and dashed back and forth. The cow’s eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Despite Eb’s efforts, her nose hovered perilously near the water. If I don’t get to her soon. . .
Jacob gave a lunge that placed him near the animal’s head. “Hang on, girl. We’re going to get you out of here.” He reached for the trailing loop end of his rope and used both arms to shove it down into the miry clay and work it around the cow’s belly. By the time he brought the loop up on the far side of the cow, he felt like his shoulders were on fire.
