It was still dark when they guzzled down some coffee and set out. Janice rode behind, her gaze locked in admiration on Dirk’s back. Sitting tall and straight, he still cut a helluva figure in the saddle, whether he realized it or not. It seemed the more time she spent with him, the less she noticed his injuries. They’d come a long way in a short time. She only hoped she might one day help him to forget them too.
They rode a couple of miles with the two dogs trotting eagerly alongside, before hitting the main trail leading up to the mountain pastures. The sun was now cresting, painting colors across the eastern horizon.
Janice drew up her horse. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t tell you how much I missed the sunrises and sunsets when I was in Las Vegas.”
Dirk pulled up beside her. “We can take a short breather here if you like.”
“Thanks. I’d like that. Although many people wax poetic about the desert, it just seems so desolate compared to this.”
“I’ve seen some amazing skies in the open desert,” he said. “Endless with so many stars at night that it boggles the mind.” His voice drifted off.
Their horses stood side by side, panting vapor into the frosty air as Dirk and Janice watched in awe-filled appreciation as the sun rose, streaking its gold and pink hues across the big Montana sky.
“Do you think about it much?” she asked. “Your time over there?”
“I try not to,” he said. “But it invades my thoughts every single day, whether I like it or not.”
“Why did you join the marines?”
“Told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I didn’t want to talk about my past either.”
Dirk stiffened in the saddle. “You want me to unload all my shit on you? Is that what you want?”
His dark expression and gruff response told her she was pushing his comfort zone again, but she wasn’t going to back off so easily. “Don’t you think it’s only fair when you made me unload mine?”
* * *
He said nothing for the longest time but the clouds of vapor came harder, faster as he fought the impulse to spur his horse and leave the questions behind. But he couldn’t outrun the memories even if he tried. They were always with him. Part of him. Even now, it was still a daily struggle to keep thoughts of that time and place at bay.
“I’d been floundering for months,” he began. “Didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. I was so restless, like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. But watching the life drain out of Seth Lawson flipped some kind of switch. I had to get away. Clear my head, so I got in my truck and drove. Didn’t even know where I was going, just had a powerful yen to see the ocean. I headed west on I-80 and didn’t stop until I hit San Francisco. I remember parking the truck at Ocean Beach, pulling off my boots, and wading out into the surf. Jeans and all. Jesus, it was cold! I hadn’t expected that.
“I stayed a couple of days and then headed south down the Pacific Coast Highway and ended up in San Diego. An old rodeo buddy of mine was stationed there at Camp Pendleton. I called him up and then suddenly it was perfectly clear. I enlisted the next day in the U.S. Marine Corps. Oorah. Semper fi.
“At first I was zealous for the war, certain we were right. That the cause was just. Yeah, that’s exactly what I told myself. We took down the Evil Empire and cleaned up the whole fucking mess in Iraq. Mission accomplished. Or so we thought.” He shook his head with a bitter laugh.
“When I re-upped, I thought it was the same war, just a different mission. But it wasn’t the same war. We were stalking that murdering sonofabitch Bin Laden in a place where you couldn’t ever know who was the enemy. The day I lost my leg was just a normal day patrolling a quiet mountain village. We were walking among men, even women and children, who nodded, smiled, and salaamed even as they were planting IEDs to blow us to kingdom come.
“We didn’t see it coming. Maybe we should have. It had been too quiet for too long. Without warning, all hell broke loose. Explosions everywhere. Men screaming. Bodies disintegrating before our eyes. Do you have any clue what an IED can do? Helmets and body armor are useless. They don’t kill. IEDs vaporize. I had to have pieces of my best buddy surgically plucked outta me. That’s the fucking devastation of an IED.”
Janice whispered, “I can’t even begin to imagine it.”
“No. You. Can’t,” he replied through clenched teeth. “No one can who hasn’t seen it.” He shut his eyes finding it hard to breathe. He never allowed himself to think about it because it always sucked him down into the dark place—a hell filled with smoke and fire, sweat, and blood, excrement…and death.
The old feeling of panic started closing in, the terror that still jarred him awake in a cold sweat. Janice’s soft voice pulled him back. “But you lived, Dirk. At least you got to come home.”
“Yeah. I lived. Small consolation when I lost six men and then had to deal with a fucking court martial to defend our actions.”
“Dear God. I didn’t know. What happened?”
“Acquitted and came home. End. Of. Story.”
“But—”
“I’ve told you about as much as I can stomach. I don’t want to talk about this shit anymore…or ever again for that matter. Ready?”
* * *
Dirk didn’t wait for her reply but urged his horse forward and up the steep and rocky incline. They rode another hour in a tense silence before discovering the first tracks in the snow. On examination, they proved to be equine rather than bovine.
“Horses?” Janice asked. “Who would have ridden horses up here?”
“They weren’t riding. These tracks are from a band of renegade mustangs that Wade and I saw.”
“Mustangs? Where the heck did they come from? I thought the only herd left in all of Montana was over in the Pryor Mountains.”
“Not anymore,” Dirk said. “’Bout twenty miles north there’s an outfit that took on a bunch of them from the BLM.”
“Really? I hadn’t heard anything about it. Which outfit was that?”
“The Circle S, old man Sutton’s place,” Dirk replied. “It seems his widow has pulled out of cattle and now plans to turn the whole spread into a wild horse sanctuary or some shit like that. Of course she doesn’t know what the hell she’s getting into, but the BLM don’t care. They’re just desperate to get as many horses off their hands as possible.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” Janice shook her head. “There’s a real problem in Nevada right now with the ongoing drought. It was on the news all the time. There’s over twenty thousand wild horses living in that desert and not enough water to sustain them. They were planning some emergency roundups when I left. Hopefully some of those horses will find homes.”
“Lottsa luck there,” he scoffed. “What kinda fool’s gonna mess with a Mustang when even dead-broke ranch horses are a dime a dozen?”
“So what’s the Suttons’ plan?” Janice asked.
“Dunno and ain’t too keen to find out, but I s’pose I’ll have to go by there soon enough. I need them to move those horses outta here before calving season. I’m not about to lose any more stock because a herd of Mustangs ran the calves to death.”
“But, Dirk, how the heck are they going to catch them?”
Dirk shrugged. “That’s their problem. There’s a lot of good cowboys looking for work. They’ll figure something out.”
Toby froze, ears perked and nose raised. Tallulah began sniffing the ground.
Dirk pulled up his horse. “Got something, boy?”
Toby gave a single bark and bounded off to the right through a large patch of sagebrush with Tallulah hot on his heels.
“They found a scent all right. If it’s the cattle, they’ll herd and hold ’em for us.” Dirk spurred his horse with Janice following. A moment later, he reined up again to listen, head cocked to the side. “Sounds like a bawling calf to m
e.”
Janice listened intently, trying to isolate other sounds from that of the two panting horses but heard nothing until the dogs sounded a cry.
“Yup. They got ’em, all right. Thank you, Jesus!” Dirk declared with a smile and spun his horse around in the direction of the baying dogs.
Three hours later, Janice dismounted to open the wire gate, the dogs standing sentinel as Dirk drove the two cows and solitary calf into the pasture.
He sighed and dismounted from his horse. “Recovered three. Not a total loss, I s’pose. I just hope the damned wolves stay on the mountain. For now, I guess the dogs’ll have to put in some overtime babysitting the herd. Least until I find some safe winter grazing.”
“What about installing fladry lines?” Janice asked. “I’ve heard they help keep wolves away.”
“It’s cost prohibitive and it’s only a short-term solution,” Dirk said. “The wolves eventually get used to them flapping and then pay no more heed. I’m not too worried about it right now though. Don’t anticipate any real trouble until next spring when I move the herd back up the mountain. I may have to bite the bullet at that point and hire someone to babysit.”
“Got anyone in mind?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, but I’ve got enough on my plate right now without fretting about that. Speaking of plates… I’m just about starved.”
“Me too,” Janice confessed. “I’m not a big fan of jerky.”
He shook his head. “I warned you ahead of time what was on the menu.”
“You did, but I also recall you promising to grill me the best T-bone I ever ate if you got your strays back.”
“I did at that,” he said. “You free tonight?”
“Tonight?” She hadn’t really expected him to take her taunt seriously. “I could be,” she replied. “But I’d want to run home and check on Cody and Mama first and of course take a shower and change.”
“Tell you what, Red. I’m so damned happy, I feel like celebrating. Since you plan on getting all cleaned up anyway, how ’bout I take you out instead of cooking? I got a place in mind if you don’t object to a bit of a drive. Might not be quite as good as my home-grilled T-bone, but it’s pretty damned close.”
“Oh yeah?” Janice smiled. “It sounds great, but if I’m gonna be out for very long, I’d need to get Cody settled for the night.” She looked at her watch. It was almost four o’clock. “It could be two or three hours before I could be ready.”
“Then I’ll make us a late reservation.”
“It would have to be after seven.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “You probably don’t want to wait that long for supper.”
“Don’t be so sure about that, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’ll pick you up at seven thirty. I may be a slow starter, but I’m learning that some things are worth waiting for.”
* * *
Arriving home twenty minutes later, Janice came in the back door and hung her hat and coat on the pegs. Her mother was already starting supper and Cody was at the kitchen table doing his homework.
“Hey, Mom!” Cody looked up. “Think you can help me with my spelling words?”
“Sure thing.” Janice smiled and ruffled his red hair before sitting down beside him.
“How was your day?” her mother asked Janice.
“Interesting. Cody would have loved it. Dirk and I rode up the mountain and brought down some missing cattle. His dogs, Toby and Tallulah, found them for us.”
“Really? What kind of dogs are they?” Cody asked.
“Catahoula Leopard dogs.”
“They’re part leopard?” Cody asked.
“No, silly. But they do have spots.”
“Can I have a dog?” Cody asked.
“Make an A on your spelling test, and maybe we’ll talk about it.”
“But I hate spelling!” he replied sullenly. “Spelling sucks!”
“Cody. You watch your mouth.”
He hung his head. “Sorry, Mom. I’m just no good at it.”
“Then you need to work at it more. You can’t get good at anything without practice, Cody. Just like riding horses.”
“I sure like horses better than spelling…or math…or reading.”
“All right, I get it.” Janice laughed. “I didn’t like school much either at your age but had to keep my grades up in order to compete on the rodeo team.”
“Can I do that too when I get bigger?”
“Sure you can,” Janice said. “Which leads to some news you’re gonna be real happy about.”
“What’s that?” Cody asked.
“The Knowltons invited us all out to the ranch on Sunday. Dirk said to come out early ’cause he has a horse for you to ride.”
Cody’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “For real?”
“Yeah. He’s a big sorrel named Red Man. Now, let’s get to work on your spelling.”
* * *
Janice could hardly remember the last time she’d put on a dress, or eaten out at any place that required reservations. Even though there wasn’t a place in the whole state of Montana where jeans weren’t welcome, Dirk’s parting words inspired a desire to “wow” him. Although she was once a clueless cowhand, her years of waitressing in Vegas had taught her the value of a feminine appearance.
She rifled through her closet for a little black dress she’d bought after Grady had qualified for his first world championship. There was a sponsored big pre-event party for the bull draws and she’d wanted to do him proud, but he wasn’t the only male who’d taken notice when she’d worn it. Although the dress was several years old, the sheath style still worked, and—more importantly—it still fit, albeit a tad tighter through the hips and boobs. Her matching pumps were also a bit outdated, but she doubted anyone in rural Montana would notice.
She pinned up her simple French braid into a chignon and then applied a touch of makeup, knowing this was a version of her that Dirk had never seen before. Would he like it? At the sound of his truck pulling in the drive, she stepped in front of the mirror her heart pounding with sudden self-doubts, but she had no time to change her mind. She exited her room and descended the stairs, feeling far too much like a nervous schoolgirl on prom night.
She was on the landing when he entered. He wore a crisply pressed dress shirt in a shade of blue that set off his icy colored eyes and a pair of snug-fitting jeans with knife-edge creases. He looked up the staircase in a sudden double-take that made Janice freeze in her tracks. Her pulse raced as his gaze swept slowly over her. His mouth curved into a slow wolfish grin that heated her from the inside out.
She descended the rest of the stairs on shaky legs. Dirk met her at the bottom step. His arm came around her waist and his lips brushed her cheek. “My, my, Red,” he murmured in a tone that promised very wicked things. “You take my breath away.”
His words made Janice acutely self-conscious, but she still managed a flippant reply. “You don’t clean up so bad yourself, cowboy.”
“Where’s Cody and your mama?” he asked.
“Mama’s arthritis is acting up real bad and Cody’s upstairs playing video games,” Janice said. “I’d call him down here but you’re already gonna get more than your fill of him on Sunday. He’s beside himself with excitement.”
“I’m looking forward to it too,” Dirk said.
His reply surprised her. “You are?”
“Sure. I’d like to get to know him better. I haven’t been around a lot of kids, but I like ’em well enough.”
“Well, be prepared. Cody’ll talk your ear off. He’s not the least bit shy and has a mind of his own. He hasn’t quite learned when to back down on an argument and is always getting called out by the teachers for it.”
“He might suffer for it now,” Dirk said, “but it’ll play to his advantage later in life.” He gla
nced at his watch. “We’d better be going. Our reservation’s for eight thirty and it’s an hour’s drive.”
* * *
Janice began peppering him with questions almost as soon as he pulled onto the highway. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied.
When he turned north on 287, she remarked, “There’s nothing in Whitehall, and Bozeman’s a good ninety minutes away.”
“Yup,” he agreed.
“We going to Belgrade?” she asked.
“Nope.” Dirk shook his head.
“Manhattan maybe? I’ve heard Land of Magic’s really good.”
“It is at that,” he concurred with a nod.
“So that’s where you’re taking me?”
“Wrong again.”
“C’mon, Dirk! Quit tormenting me and spill it.”
“No way. Anticipation is half the pleasure. Besides, I’m having way too much fun torturing you.”
Janice huffed.
He chuckled and flashed a teasing grin. “Guess you don’t read many mystery novels, do you, Red?”
“No. Haven’t read much of anything since high school, but why would you say that?”
“’Cause you can’t stand suspense. Bet you talk during movies too, don’tcha?”
“Maybe,” she replied.
“I’ll have to remember that.” He gave her a teasing leg squeeze. Then his hand rested there. She laid hers on top of it.
“Bet I can make you talk.” She slid her skirt up a few inches.
His mouth firmed. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He shook his head, determined not to give an inch, but she gave him several more—inches of bare thigh that is.
“You sure you don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”
She guided his hand a little higher. She wasn’t wearing panty hose. Her skin was silky smooth. He got a whiff of vanilla mixed with just a hint of feminine arousal. He inhaled deeper and shifted in his seat. His gaze briefly strayed from the road to meet hers. “I don’t think you want to continue this, Red. Not if you’re hungry, anyway.”
Rough Rider Page 20
