“That's wonderful, Lawna, but where is Hope-Anne?”
“She's asleep in that basket under the tree, near the laundry tub. I think she is feeling better already.”
“I think her Mama feels better, and she knows it.”
Again, Lawna's infectious grin animated her face. “I know, Mrs. Harris. Timothy has looked at the roof and gave Tom a list of supplies to pick up in town.”
“I'm glad for you, Lawna.”
Lawna waved and carried Cookie's laundry to the tub near Hope-Anne.
Amy scanned the yard, but Jason had disappeared. She walked to the corral and leaned on the split rails. Only a few horses remained in the pen. She watched the clouds move east overhead. Her thoughts circled and returned to Jones. Anxiety tightened in her chest, and she released a deep breath.
Let it go.
There was trouble still ahead with Jones if only she knew when and how. She released a prayer into the wind to watch over Nichole.
Chapter 19
Nichole Harris
Nichole followed Jim, Lloyd, and the horses into the barn. She stood to the side as Jim saddled the brown horse while Lloyd took care of the bay. A rich, brown coat with black legs, mane, and tail, the bay had a single white spot on his forehead she longed to touch.
What a beautiful animal.
Her fingers itched to rub him from his nose up to the white spot and give him treats. Then, she noticed the saddles. “Why is my saddle different?”
Lloyd looked at her sideways as he tightened the strap around the girth. “Whatcha mean different? It's yours.” Lloyd looked back at the belt and adjusted the stirrup.
Jimmy's saddle had a single horn and a stirrup on each side. Hers had curved leather horns with a stirrup only on the left side. She cast a quick glance at Jim. He rested his back against his horse and watched her with a bemused look on his face.
Lloyd placed a wooden step beneath her stirrup and turned to her.
She hesitated. Her mind raced as she looked at the two saddles. She knew why they were different but couldn't bring the knowledge forward. The thought teased her but remained just out of reach. The bay swung his head around and looked at her as well. She could almost feel the horse's impatience. It made her smile. “Sorry. I'm still a bit confused.”
It's a sidesaddle.
The image came to her, how to sit, how to mount.
I've never been on a horse.
“It's a woman's saddle,” Jim called over his shoulder as he mounted.
“I know that,” she replied without conviction. She stepped on the small platform with her right foot, draped her skirt and petticoat over her left arm. Lloyd braced her as she stepped into the stirrup with her left foot, rose, and hooked her right leg around the top pommel. She adjusted her left leg beneath the lower horn and draped her skirt over her legs.
Mounted like a boss.
“Yes.” She made a fist and pumped it in victory.
Lloyd picked up the wooden step and walked into the tack area.
Her breath hitched when she realized how far she was from the ground. “Holy shit,” she muttered as her gaze measured the distance.
Jim reined in beside her. “You all right?”
She looked from the ground to Jim. “You heard me?”
His half-grin was gone, and a smile creased his face in amusement. “Did you say something?” He laughed aloud and guided his horse out of the barn into the sunshine.
“Ya might want this thing, here.” Lloyd held up a closed parasol.
“Thank you.” She lifted the dark green parasol, opened it, and laid it over her shoulder. “Lloyd, why are there parasols in the tack room?”
Lloyd shrugged. “It's where you said you wanted 'em. You want 'em moved again?”
“No. They're fine.” She patted the bay's neck “What's his name?” Her mount followed the brown horse out of the barn.
Lloyd walked beside her. “Ya call him Sugar 'cause he’s so sweet.” He grinned and stopped walking.
Nichole chucked and urged Sugar to step up beside Jim.
Their path took them northwest across the plain. Sweet-grass and wildflowers cast their fragrance into the air with each gust of the breeze. Tall, yellow flowering weeds and thistle bushes rose above the knee-high grass. They followed a beaten trail, less than a road, but flattened with recent use and wide enough to ride side by side.
“Where are we going?” Nichole asked. Although the prairie appeared flat, the subtle rise and fall of the ground hid their destination beyond a low hill.
“Thought we'd mosey over to the brandin' site. It's just yonder.”
Nichole stared at Jim for a moment. “Last night, you spoke with no accent. Today, you twang like Lloyd. What's up with that?”
He looked at her in surprise and tugged the reins to a stop. Nichole's bay stopped beside him. “All right, then. Maybe you can tell me what's happened to your Boston accent? I only hear it half the time.”
Nichole blinked at him. “My ... you mean how Jason and Amy talk? I'm supposed to sound like them?”
He nodded. “And you did, until yesterday. Now, I hear the west in your voice, Texas maybe, but that could be the Shilos's influence. My point is, your speech is different, and not just the accent, but also the content and expressions.”
“Well... I'm not doing it on purpose. I have an injured brain. Why are you doing it?”
He ran his hand through his hair and reset his hat, never taking his gaze from Nichole. “I musta picked it up from bein' around Lloyd and Tom this mornin'. Can't say for sure.”
Nichole narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned and urged his horse forward. Nichole's mount stepped up to keep pace.
“I brought you here for a reason. I want you to see the ranch and understand what we do. The spring roundup is finished, for the most part. We're about done with branding and notching the calves. We'll keep the cattle close for a few weeks, then drive 'em to the railhead.”
“Why wait?”
“Normally, we don't. But this spring has been unusually wet. We decided to sit tight for a spell, let the ground dry out some. The railheads aren't that far from the ranch. It's not like we're driving 'em from Texas.”
“Who decides? You and Jason?”
“Phil, Kevin, and I. That's why they were here a couple of weeks ago. Jason doesn't know anything about cattle. He keeps track of the men and wages, and makes sure we have supplies for the drive.”
“Merril wasn't with them?” Nichole shot Jim a quick glance and saw him grin at her question. Heat suffused her face.
“Merril works the cattle, like these men. He's learning.”
Nichole nodded, as though everything made perfect sense.
The path they followed inched up a slow incline, away from the squat bushes and cottonwood trees that grew in clusters along the streambed. Jim paused for a moment at the top of a rise, and then descended the other side.
Sugar chose that moment to change direction. He turned to follow the ridge, but Nichole pulled the reins and directed him back to the path. Sugar snorted and sidestepped, but gave in and started up the rise after the brown.
At the crest, Nichole caught her breath. Below her was a shallow but wide basin, covered in prairie grass. Cattle grazed across the valley and filled it from the ridge to the stream that swung wide to the north. Nearby, several men worked with branding irons and calves.
Jim turned to her with a smile. “Here we are. Winter pasture. This shallow depression shelters the stock from the wind.” He pointed across the valley. “The tree line on the north side helps keep the snowdrifts down. It’s close to the ranch and easy to reach in the winter. It is also convenient for the roundup. Your pa wanted the sight and smell of the branding away from his ladies.”
Nichole guided Sugar alongside Jim's mare. “They're almost done?”
“Yep. A couple more days and they'll be finished until we drive. Time for these boys to celebrate.”
“Celebrate at the barbeque?” Nichole ch
ewed her lip, her brow furrowed.
“You don't seem very excited,” Jim observed.
“I am, then I'm not. These men know me. They'll expect me to know them. My memory is difficult to explain and impossible to hide.”
“You'll be fine. Just smile and flash those pretty blue eyes. They won't know what hit ’em.”
Nichole’s laugh was tinged with uneasiness. “You’re sweet, Jim, despite your diabolical air of mystery.” She smiled and looked across the valley. “I've changed, though. You've seen the difference. I know Jason sees it. How do I act normal when I can't remember what normal used to be?”
Jim wrapped his reins around his saddle horn and leaned closer to Nichole. “Nicki,” he said, his tone sincere, “you are better company now than you were before. You’re more interested in the ranch and easier to talk to. I don't know anyone, 'cept maybe Jones, who would say any different. Don't worry about what they think.” He gestured toward the valley. “Just enjoy the party.”
“Hey, Leigh!” A man near the branding irons called out. He wrestled a half-grown calf that kept stepping away. “How about a hand with this one? Seems this little girl don't want to lay down for me.”
Jim swept the hair out of his eyes and under his hat in one motion. “John needs a hand. This should only take a few minutes.”
“You go ahead. I'll head back. I've had a wonderful ride.”
“You remember the way home?”
Nichole nodded. “The path leads straight to the house. I can't miss it.”
“That's true. I could have Kelly see ya home, to be safe.”
“No, please. I know the way. I won't get lost,” she promised.
Jim narrowed his eyes in warning. “You fall off your horse, that cousin of yours will have my hide.”
Laughter burst from Nichole. “I'll be fine, Jim. We haven't gone that far.”
“Hey, Jim, you want to speed it up?” John had lost his hat, and his nose bled. “This little gal ain't gonna wait forever, ya know.”
“I'm comin', John, keep your pants on. She ain't that big.”
“Like hell, she ain't!” John struggled to hold the calf. “Year and a half in the brush, wild as you please. You come hold her down and tell me she ain't that big.”
Nichole laughed and tugged Sugar's reins. “See you at home, Jim,” she called as she topped the rise. Sugar picked his way down the other side with delicate precision. To the east, the path through the grass was clear. She started that way then paused to consider her options. Doc Johnson would kill her if he knew, not to mention Jason and Jim, but the sun warmed her legs, and she simply couldn't give up the day and return to the house. Not yet. With a lift of her head, she pulled the reins and headed south, into the wind.
I’ll follow the ravine for a while.
She couldn’t get lost if she kept the rise on her right. Retracing her path would be simple.
Sugar picked up the pace when their path merged with a worn track.
“Is this a trail you know?” she asked Sugar, then felt foolish, but Sugar bobbed his head as if he understood. Nichole giggled. “All right then, boyfriend, you take the lead. Where does this go?” Nichole gave Sugar a nudge, and the bay stepped up the pace. They followed the ravine until the trail turned east. The scenery took her breath away, a virgin wilderness of prairie and sky. Peaceful and empty—just the tranquil atmosphere her mind needed.
Sugar slowed and then came to a stop near a thicket of bushes. He pawed at the ground and nibbled the leafy vegetation. “I take it we've arrived.” Nichole closed the parasol and pulled her skirt back. She unhooked her left knee, stood in the stirrup, and then lifted her right leg out and over the saddle. Sugar turned his head to watch when she hesitated. She sighed at Sugar's impatience and lowered her right foot to the ground. “There, see?” She drew the reins around Sugar's head and rubbed his nose with a gentle hand. “Thanks for putting up with me, fella.”
Sugar bumped her hand, then pushed at the bushes.
“Is this it, Sugar? Is this what you like?”
The bay stomped and nosed the bushes.
“In there? Sure. Why not?”
Nichole shoved at the brush, and it moved. The limbs were long and thin, but not anchored to the ground. She pushed them up into an arch as Sugar passed beneath them, then she slid under them behind the bay, letting them fall back into place.
When she turned back to Sugar, she gasped at the hidden thicket. Her gaze traveled around a wild, unkempt garden, surrounded by tall brush on three sides. Near the rocky outcrop, a small clear pond glistened in the sunlight. A delicate waterfall fell from the rocks above. Even on the ridge above her, brush grew thick and lush. She stood in a private sanctuary of her very own.
“Oh, wow, Sugar.” She patted the horse as he grazed on the thick green grass. “Look what you’ve found. It’s perfect. I see why you like it here.”
Nichole placed her parasol near a large flat rock. The water beckoned, so cool and refreshing, like a mirage in her wildest dreams. The brush and rocks blocked the cool breeze, and the sunlight warmed the small grove. She unbuttoned and folded her jacket, and then laid it beside the parasol.
This is perfect.
The blouse came next, then the boots and skirt. After a suspicious glance at the bushes, she relaxed—even the birds had begun to sing again. With quick movements, the thigh-length chemise and drawers came off, and she was free of her clothes. She hurried toward the small pond.
She tested the water with her toes—ice cold and clear. She cast a mischievous smile at Sugar. “I'll bet we've done this before. Fess up.”
Sugar huffed and shook his dark mane.
“Don't lie to me, horse,” she scolded. “You were just a little too eager to back out now. We're in this together, so don’t give me that look.”
Sugar flicked his tail and turned away.
“Fine, be that way.” Nichole took a few hesitant steps into the pond. The bottom was rocky but smooth, and the cold water sent chills up her spine.
Get on with it.
She jumped forward into the center of the pond and popped back up with a gasp. The pool was shallow. When she stood, the water lapped at her waist. Nichole took one more careful inspection of her private garden. The birds sang in the bushes and Sugar grazed on the lush grass. Surrounded by tall bushes and rock, the clear blue sky and warm sun were the only witnesses to her wild escapade.
Just a quick swim.
She dove into the water and surfaced with a splash and a laugh, her worries about privacy forgotten.
Chapter 20
Merril Shilo
Merril reined Midnight in the morning stillness. The vast, empty prairie acted as a soothing balm to his shattered soul after his father’s funeral. Kevin had attended, but the brothers hadn’t spoken. As soon as the reverend left The Shilo to return to town, Merril had ridden out. He'd come more than two miles along the Shilo-Highlands boundary in search of strays. He pushed his hat to the back of his head and relaxed. It looked good. Unless the other wranglers found any calves, they were ready to call the branding and notching done.
He recognized Shadow Creek ahead. He'd ride home along the streambed on the Highlands side. If any missing cattle were here, they’d be near the water. He urged Midnight into a trot parallel to the waterway. Ahead, the foliage thickened where the creek dropped over the plateau ridge. He could never see this place and not think of Nichole.
Merril made his way down the ravine along the brush and stopped near the secret opening he and Nichole had made years ago. He dismounted and wrapped Midnight's reins around a low-hanging limb.
“I'll be back,” he whispered as he lifted his rope from the saddle. Then he stopped. Random splashing from within the brush enclosure confirmed his suspicions.
I’ll be damned if I wasn’t right. And I’d hoped to get home early today.
There were too many loose ends to resolve. The most urgent being a conversation with a sober Kevin about their future. Like it or not.
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He parted the greenery with slow movements, careful not to startle a skittish calf.
“Michael have mercy!” he gasped, as Nicki's little gelding, Sugar, nuzzled at the leaves near his head.
“What are you doing here?” He rubbed the bay's nose and accepted his greeting. ''Just like old times, huh, Sugar? Is Nicki with you, or are you just playing tricks on old Lloyd?”
Sugar huffed and sauntered on to better grazing. A loud splash brought Merril's attention to the pond. A smile spread across his face as Nichole surfaced on the far side of the pool.
She stood in the shallows, her back to Merril, as water lapped at her waist. Then she turned. Clear rivulets of icy water ran sparkled over her high, firm breasts and arms.
Merril’s groin tightened as she called for Sugar to watch, then splashed her way back to his side of the pond. Before he had time to change his mind, he crouched beneath the foliage and walked into the sunlight. He stopped beside her folded clothes.
Nichole hadn't noticed him as she swam across the pool and stood again in the sunlight. When she turned and saw him, she uttered a squeak, and sank into the deepest part of the small pond. The clear water bumped against her chin but hid little.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “You scared me to death. Give me my clothes.” Heat rose in her cheeks as she sputtered her demand.
“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here’?” He sat beside her parasol and loosened the handkerchief around his neck. “It sure is nice here. Good view.”
She glared at him in silence, her nose just above the waterline.
“How did you find this place, Nicki? Is your memory back?”
She raised her chin from the water. “I wish. Give me my clothes, you Peeping Tom.”
“Can't do that.” Merril lounged on one elbow and crossed his boots at the ankle.
* * *
Nichole Harris
Nichole gave him the most threatening glare she could muster.
Well, crap.
He was having a great time at her expense. Then again, she could see the humor of the situation if it hadn't been to her disadvantage. “You're a shit, Merril Shilo. What are you going to do? Sit there all d-day?”
Passage (Soul of the Witch Book 1) Page 16
