by Vivi Holt
“I have to go after the herd,” he said.
“I know.”
“We’ll talk when I get back.”
“We’ll talk then.”
He turned and flung himself onto Alto’s sturdy back, touched one hand to his head and nodded the brim of his dripping hat to her. He spun the horse around and galloped down the valley south.
She watched him leave, his back straight and strong, the tails of his long coat flapping at Alto’s sides. She lifted her fingers to feel her lips, feathering her fingertips along their surface as she contemplated and savored the memory of their kiss. With a quiet smile, she turned and climbed into the wagon.
Chapter Twenty Three
Genevieve grunted and heaved the kettle full of water onto the stand over the fire. As quickly as she made the coffee, it disappeared before her eyes. The men were coming back to camp in dribs and drabs, and had been for the past three days. They returned periodically with a small group of longhorns trotting before them, grabbed a few hours of sleep by the campfire with their Stetson pulled low over their eyes and drank the thick black coffee by the bucketful.
She, Sarah and Cookie were run off their feet preparing meals, packing food to be shoved into saddlebags and pockets, boiling water for coffee, refilling canvas canteens with water they had to fetch from the closest stream a mile away and ensuring the crew had warm, dry clothes and blankets. After three days of rounding them up little by little, finding them in hollows and thickets, beyond peaks and scattered across prairies, most of the cattle were accounted for. Only about three hundred were still missing, and the men had ridden further afield in hopes of finding them.
Ost had stayed behind with them as well. He was in charge of grooming, feeding, watering and resting the horses the cowboys brought back. He had been too shy to speak much to her at first, but had soon become an invaluable help around the camp. He helped carry the pails of fresh water from the creek and took care of milking the cows that had been brought back. Once he even whipped the cream into butter when they were running low.
She’d barely seen Thomas since that kiss in the rain by the chuck wagon. When she’d climbed into the wagon, Sarah had been waiting for her, a sly grin lighting up her face. “What was that now?” she asked, with a chuckle.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Genevieve protested, but her smile gave her away.
After the stampede, the rain had lasted for hours. It wasn’t until darkness had settled over the valley like a thick blanket that the sound of it pelting against the canvas roof of the wagon had waned. The silence that followed made her ears ache, and she lay in the dark wondering where Thomas might be and what had become of the herd. Some of the men had come back briefly to help right Sarah’s wagon, and she’d spent the night in the wagon with Sarah, since Bill was out with the others gathering in every longhorn they could find.
She returned to the fold-out table behind the chuck wagon and continued kneading the sourdough to make another batch of biscuits. The dough barely had time to rise before she had to push it into the Dutch oven, hungry cowboys snoring by her feet. She wiped her hands on her apron and stood straight, stretching the kinks from her back and yawning wide. In the distance, she saw another group of longhorns headed their way. They trundled up the valley, their heads swaying from side to side. Two cowboys trotted behind them, calling and whistling to the cattle as they rode.
Suddenly her heart skipped a beat – one of the horses was Alto. Thomas was back.
***
Thomas rubbed his eyes and drew a deep breath into his lungs. The welcome sight of the herd and wagons and the smell of the campfire lifted his spirits. The past few days had been a blur of crashing through low hanging branches, clambering up rocky outcroppings and delving into narrow gorges in search of the herd.
He hadn’t been back to camp more than a couple of times in three days, and already he could see that the men had brought back most of the herd in that time. He had another two hundred head with him now, which meant they were close to retrieving every last longhorn. The cattle lumbered into the herd to greet each other like long-lost relatives. He sighed with relief and slipped from Alto’s back to the sodden ground below.
The last time he’d had a moment alone with Genevieve, she’d kissed him. Not just any old kiss – a passionate, gut-wrenching kiss that took his breath away and sent a bolt of electricity like lightning through his body. He longed to see her and wrap his arms around her, but he knew he had to take care of his men and his herd first. Genevieve would have to wait.
He handed Alto’s reins to Ost and nodded a greeting to the boy, then turned to head over to the campfire. He saw Dan and Dusty were already there, feet crossed at the ankles as they lay on their backs by the fire. Snores filled the air as he drew closer, and he smiled. They were hard-working and loyal – he couldn’t have asked to find better men for his drive than the two of them.
He dropped to the ground beside Dusty and unrolled his oilskin, threw himself down on it and lifted his hands to lock them behind his head. He yawned and his eyes drifted closed. Sleep took him quickly, and before long he was dreaming of riding through dry prairie grasses as high as Alto’s head.
***
Genevieve hurried to pull the biscuits from the oven and stopped still. There he was. Thomas lay by the fire, already asleep. She’d wondered where he’d gotten to, but had been too busy fixing food and cleaning up to look for him. Although, truth be told, when she saw him coming over the rise with the small herd of longhorns she’d ducked behind the chuck wagon. She wasn’t quite ready to see him again yet. She still blushed every time she remembered how bold she’d been during the storm.
That kiss had taken her breath away, and she still couldn’t believe she’d been the one to start it. What must he think of her? She was married to someone else and kissing him in the rain! She shook her head and covered her eyes with her palms. What had she been thinking? Now things between them would be so awkward. She’d risked not only her friendship with Thomas, but since he was her employer she’d also put her job at risk. What would she do if he fired her? She had nowhere to go.
She smoothed her skirts and drew in a deep breath. She was probably overreacting. He wouldn’t fire her. He’d certainly seemed to enjoy the kiss as much as she had.
She picked up the tray of biscuits with a cloth, then scurried back to the chuck wagon to butter them. She could see another few longhorns coming into the valley with several cowboys trailing them. They’d be hungry, and she still had to fry the salt pork.
When Vaquero and Coop arrived at the campfire, Sarah was dishing beans onto plates beside steaming, buttery biscuits. Genevieve slipped a piece of crispy salt pork onto each plate and the men took the bounty gratefully. They sat beside the fire, and soon their conversation and laughter had awoken the men who’d been sleeping.
Thomas sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much rest – Genevieve could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. As she handed him a plate of food, he met her gaze and his lips curved into a warm smile. “Do you think you got the entire herd?” she asked him, her cheeks warming.
“I did a quick head count – it looks as though we’ve got most of them. I think Bill’s the only one still out there. He headed north along the trail this morning to scout the southern peaks for any strays. Other than that, I believe we’re done.”
The men nodded in agreement as they chewed. “That’s a relief,” said Dan. He’d woken as well and was biting into a biscuit with vigor. Vaquero grunted, but otherwise ate silently. Soon Ost strode over, sat beside Vaquero and took a plate of food as well. He’d groomed and fed the men’s tired horses and settled them for the night before joining the group for supper.
Sarah hurried over to refill plates with biscuits and beans. “Has anyone heard from Bill?” she asked. Her voice was casual, but Genevieve could hear the concern it masked.
Thomas glanced up, “Not yet. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
She nodded and continued working, her face grim.
Thomas addressed the group, “Has anyone spoken with Captain Weston lately?”
His question was met with a shaking of heads. “Nothing lately,” said Dan. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wonder how long they expect us to stay here. I’m concerned that if we don’t get moving soon, we’ll get stuck in the pass. If snow comes early, we won’t make it into Paradise Valley and we’ll have to fall back into Nebraska or Kansas until spring. The cattle are losing condition every day we’re on the trail. I think we should keep moving. We’ve got to get to Paradise Valley sooner rather than later.”
“Can we do that?” asked Dusty, his eyebrows arched high.
“I don’t see why not,” added Coop.
Dusty took a bite of salt pork. “Well, they’re the law around here. Do you really want to get on their bad side?”
Thomas shook his head and ate silently for a few moments. “I don’t want to go against the captain’s orders, but at the same time I have to get these longhorns settled before the snow falls.”
“What do you suggest, boss?” asked Dan.
“I think we’ll have to leave at night and bypass the fort’s lookouts. We know where they are – we’ll just go around them, then circle back to the trail once we’re safely past the fort.”
The cowboys exchanged glances and nodded. Genevieve’s heart jumped in her chest. They were going up against the United States Army, not to mention the Sioux, Cheyenne and possibly Crow Indians from whom the Army were trying to protect them. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands trembled as she collected the men’s dirty plates. If they were caught, they’d face three hundred armed soldiers. And if they weren’t, they could be confronted by a ruthless tribe of Indian warriors, trying to rid Montana of the menace of white settlers.
Chapter Twenty Four
Bill Hanover lay still against Purdy’s strong neck. Juniper branches brushed them as they inched slowly forward. The noise of hooves in the undergrowth made him flinch and he grimaced, pulling Purdy to a halt.
The braves were close now. He could hear their ponies stepping through the hollow beneath him. The dry leaves coating the ground crunched beneath their unshod hooves. If they rode up the rise or looked up, they would see him driving half a dozen longhorns along the crest of the hill. He’d found haven in a patch of evergreens, but it wouldn’t take much for them to be discovered.
The braves were talking among themselves, riding parallel to the Bozeman Trail in the valley below. He couldn’t hear or understand what they were discussing, but he guessed that they were stalking the trail looking for settlers trying to make their way through the Dakota Territory and into Montana. He couldn’t be sure, but they looked like Sioux.
He willed the cattle to be quiet and they silently complied. They stood still, swishing tails and chewing their cud, unaware of the danger passing below them. The braves were moving north and Bill needed to travel south, back to the campsite. He waited until he could no longer hear any sound, then clicked his tongue to urge Purdy forward. He took off his Stetson and waved it at the cattle. They looked at him, aggravated, and waved horned heads at him, then lumbered south, heading for their temporary home and a field of lush grass on which to graze.
Bill’s heart thudded in his chest and he glanced repeatedly over his shoulder, looking out for an attack that never came, waiting for the hushed thud of an arrow as it found its mark in his chest. But the braves had moved on, and before long he released the breath encased in his lungs with a loud sigh. He pressed onward, watching with concern as the sun dipped below the peak of a distant mountain, throwing the valley into a rapidly falling darkness. The temperature dropped immediately and he shivered in his coat. After a hard day of riding, his body ached and now the cold was biting into him, pricking at his tired skin.
In the distance, he saw the trees thinning – there was a clearing up ahead. He whistled softly to the cattle and they raised their heads with interest. They smelled the rest of the herd and the campfire before he did, and with a toss of their heads they broke into a trot, eager to get settled for the night. He hurried after them and soon saw the glow of the campfire at the furthest end of the clearing.
Sarah. He smiled. His pulse always quickened whenever he was away from her for even a few minutes and he saw her again, as though for the first time. He fell more in love with her each and every day. He couldn’t believe how blessed he was to call her his wife. Each time his eyes fell on her and he saw her wide green eyes or the shine of her mahogany hair, he was surprised by her beauty again.
Purdy quickened his pace and cantered down the field. The longhorns found their way to the herd and were soon settled. Bill continued past them, stopping only when he reached the glowing circle of light around the campfire. Cowboys lay sprawled around it, most already asleep. The sound of dishes clanging and banging as they were washed drifted to him on the still night air from behind the chuck wagon. He slid from Purdy’s back and greeted the men.
“Bill, you’re back,” said Thomas, jumping to his feet to shake Bill’s hand. “How’d it go?”
“I found a half-dozen longhorns up north in a gully. Didn’t see any others.” He looked around for his wife.
Thomas leaned in, speaking softly as though he didn’t wish his voice to carry on the wind. “We’re going to head out tomorrow night. After dusk, we’ll circle around the Army guards and meet up with the trail north of the fort. We can’t stay any longer. The cattle are suffering for it and we have to get to Paradise Valley before the first snowfall.”
Bill nodded and pulled his hat from his head. His eyes fixed on Thomas’. “There’s something else, too,” he said.
“What’s that?” asked Thomas.
“I saw three braves about a mile north of here. They were scouting the trail. They didn’t see me, thank the Lord, but it was close.”
“Is that so?” asked Thomas. He scratched his beard, considering Bill’s words. “Well then, we’ll have to be even more careful. But I don’t see any other way to get to where we’re going without using the trail. Do you?”
Bill shook his head. “Don’t see as I do.”
“Thanks, Bill,” said Thomas. “Get something to eat and have a rest. It’s been a hard few days.”
Bill nodded and turned to leave. He wanted to find Sarah. He hurried to the back of the chuck wagon and saw her standing with Genevieve, scrubbing dishes. The two women were chattering together in quiet whispers. Sarah laughed and threw her head back. Her hair cascaded down her back, and she pulled her coat more tightly around herself before glancing over her shoulder and catching his eye. She jumped with a soft squeal and ran to him.
As she threw herself into his arms and kissed his bearded cheeks, he thanked God once again for a wife such as her.
Chapter Twenty Five
Thomas stood beneath a large lodgepole pine, watching the fort in the distance. He was scouting out the trail to see where the fort’s guards would be stationed when they left later that night.
The more he thought about Genevieve, the angrier he felt over her marriage to Quincey. She’d finally trusted him enough to tell him the truth about her husband, and her words had taken him by surprise. He hadn’t said anything to Genevieve when she shared her secret with him, nor had he raised the subject with her since. But he’d been thinking about it. Dwelling on it. His thoughts spinning and twisting, turning and festering over one thing – that bully had forced her to marry him!
How was it possible that a minister wouldn’t realize that the bride didn’t wish to marry the groom, no matter how deaf or blind? And for a stepfather to do that to his child – it didn’t make any sense at all. His heart filled with pity for her as he imagined her being dragged down the aisle and having to stand opposite that varmint as the minister ran through the vows, unaware of her protests.
He slammed his open hand into the base of the tree and let out a curse. It wasn’t right. It wasn
’t fair. She deserved so much better than that. And he’d finally found someone who he could connect with, who made him feel complete … and she couldn’t be his. It was almost too much to bear.
Thomas watched as the fort guards returned from their reconnaissance and positioned themselves by the trail in a clump of spruce trees. The trees masked their position effectively, and once they were settled they couldn’t be seen from where Thomas stood. He climbed onto Alto’s back and pulled his hat low over his brow. They’d leave tonight and be careful to avoid the fort’s soldiers. He’d been watching them all day and knew their routes by heart. They were efficient and disciplined, but they failed in one area – they were predictable. They stuck to a schedule like clockwork and that was their weakness.
He turned Alto and headed back to camp.
There must be something he could do to help Genevieve. Regardless of how she felt about him, it wasn’t right that she should have to stay married against her will to a man she didn’t love. Perhaps he could find out if there was some legal way to fix things. From what she’d told him, her marriage couldn’t possibly be legal, could it?
He didn’t know much about the law, but his father had used a lawyer in Ohio when he’d had some legal issues with a squatter who turned out to be a thief on his land. He’d ask around when they got to Bozeman. There was a courthouse in the small town – he’d seen it the last time he was there, right next to the Sheriff’s office. He’d stop in there, once they were settled and see if he could find a lawyer or a judge, someone who might know what they could do to help Genevieve out of this predicament. She deserved to marry for love, and she’d never get the chance to if she was still tied to Quincey by law. Even if it wasn’t him she chose, she had the right to choose someone for herself. Someone she loved.
