ON THURSDAY GIDEON was surprised when Alaina came to the barn earlier than the time they’d agreed to and saddled Nikko herself, saying Libby had shown her which tack to use.
It was an even greater surprise when Griz trotted across the paddock to eat the carrot Alaina put on a fence post, and then nickered at her. There couldn’t be two more different people than his great-grandfather and Alaina Wright, so why would Griz have responded to her in the first place?
“Do the trees still produce fruit?” Alaina asked as they rode past the ranch’s orchard and old vegetable garden, fallow since his great-grandmother’s day.
“There’s a decent crop of apples and plums each year,” Gideon said. “I keep a few crates of apples for the horses, but my mom and grandmother pick and preserve the rest. I don’t do much aside from watering and maintaining the fences to discourage deer.”
“You don’t spray any pesticides?”
“I wouldn’t dare, or my great-grandmother’s ghost would rise up to haunt me. She read Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring when it came out and told Grandpa Colby that she’d divorce him if he ever used pesticides again. He didn’t argue the point.”
Alaina grinned. “I understand Colby Westcott was a strong individual. Your great-grandmother must have been just as strong.”
“She was, though I doubt a dispute over pesticides would have ended their marriage. Grandma Vivian found natural ways to help control pests, but I don’t have time to use them. I’m afraid the trees are on their own.”
“Libby said the old vegetable garden almost covered an acre. Was the ranch ever self-sustaining with so much homegrown fruit and produce?”
“Close to it. In the early years, the family mostly bought cloth, coffee, flour, sugar, salt and cornmeal. Times were simpler then.”
Gideon tried to assess Alaina’s posture on Nikko without being too obvious. She wasn’t as relaxed as someone who rode often, but at least she didn’t bounce up and down in the saddle like some of the greenhorns he’d seen. And her slim figure showed to advantage on a horse.
He was irritated with himself for noticing. It wasn’t that he was oblivious to Alaina’s beauty...but that was the problem. He was too aware of it. She was also interesting and softhearted, which made it difficult to just dismiss her from his thoughts. What had possessed him to get into a personal discussion about her childhood that day on the trail?
He could easily envision the determined little girl she’d once been, frustrated by the well-meaning constraints from her family. An impish smile must have concealed whatever secret plans she had for rebellion.
But the last thing he needed was to complicate his life, so his best bet was to simply treat Alaina like a client.
Keeping that in mind, Gideon gestured to the fields in front of them. He was a tour guide today, nothing more. “We winter most of the cattle on this part of the ranch.”
“Is that why you have more fences and windbreaks here?”
He shrugged. Alaina probably didn’t appreciate fences as a wildlife photographer. “Windbreaks help protect the cattle during storms, and fences are part of containing the herds for winter feeding. We also keep the bulls separate until the females are ready to breed again. Small temporary pens are used when we’re branding and vaccinating calves.”
“Libby mentioned you do freeze branding. That’s when cold is used to freeze the hair follicles, right?”
“Yes. I think it’s less stressful for them.”
“Do your fellow ranchers agree?”
“Let’s just say it hasn’t caught on.” Gideon’s decision to switch to freeze branding had caused controversy at the ranch association meetings. Folks in Bannister County clung to tradition the way lichen clung to a rock. “It was one of my first decisions after becoming foreman. My great-grandfather wanted to go back to the old way, but changed his mind after watching me use the method.”
“HE MUST HAVE recognized it was easier on the calves,” Alaina said, intrigued by the play of emotion on Gideon’s face. Now she saw a crooked smile growing.
“Calves are noisy, no matter what. We have to temporarily separate them from their mothers, so that’s when the fun starts. But Grandpa Colby saw that sometimes they barely notice a freeze brand being applied. He wasn’t unreasonable. He just felt at his age, he already knew the best way to get things done.”
Alaina heard fond respect in Gideon’s voice, rather than frustration or triumph. It was nice. He could have resented his great-grandfather for trying to keep running things and having to fight him on points where they disagreed; instead he seemed to cherish Colby Westcott’s memory.
So far her stay at the Double Branch wasn’t turning out the way she had expected. She’d wanted to immerse herself in the wilderness, to fill every cell and pore of her being with the mountains and its wild creatures, envisioning days or weeks when she didn’t see or speak to anyone.
Instead she was taking pictures at a museum and photographing orphan calves being bottle fed. Then helping to feed them. She was watching Libby Cranston and Deke Hewitt sidestep through the first stages of either friendship or romance, unsure of what they wanted from each other, but convinced there was something. She’d spent hours learning to saddle and unsaddle a horse and how to groom it properly. And she was leaving carrots for Grizzly on every possible occasion, hoping to coax him into becoming less isolated.
Then there was Gideon. The enigma, who was making an effort to be chatty today.
In a way they were alike, each wanting to be alone, and yet forced together by circumstance. He was doing it over a misplaced concern over her safety. While for her part, she’d agreed to the tours as a chance to locate the best wildlife observation points in the shortest period of time—which was why she would have preferred to just head for the high country. The closer she got to the Yellowstone wilderness area, the better chance she’d have to see wolves.
Still, if she were going to be honest with herself, that wasn’t the only reason for riding with Gideon. She had a growing curiosity about ranching...and about ranchers. Once upon a time she would have said she was immune to the “strong, silent type,” but Gideon was getting to her in his own subtle way.
“How does freeze branding mark your cows?” Alaina asked, determined to think about something else.
“The hair is shaved and grows back white, which stands out, maybe even better than a traditional brand. Most of our cattle are black, but if a calf has white hair in the brand location, we leave the brand on longer, which keeps the hair from regrowing altogether. Either way, ownership is marked, so a buyer can tell if a cow has been stolen.”
Alaina blinked. “Is cattle rustling still a thing?”
Gideon let out a disgusted sound. “You bet. I’d hate to tell you how much a single cow can be worth. And in today’s world of ATVs and GPS units, it’s almost easier to steal cattle than rob a convenience store.”
“I wouldn’t do either one.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Me, either.” The humor on his face faded. “I take the well-being of my herds seriously. Fortunately, most of my summer grazing land is a fair distance from any access roads. It’s still possible, but for the easiest approach, a thief would have to come close to the ranch center, which puts them at greater risk of being caught.”
“So you don’t have as much trouble as some ranchers?”
“No losses to date, except to predators.”
Alaina looked away, remembering the taxidermy exhibits Gideon had donated to the museum. Even now he was carrying two rifles in scabbards on his horse’s saddle, and she was sure he was prepared to use them.
They rode in silence for a while. Her camera hung on a strap around her neck and the valley was lushly green, but she wasn’t confident enough to split her attention between riding and taking pictures.
“Do you get any elk migrating out of the Yellowstone ecosystem?” she asked finally. “I know some of the northern herds cross to feeding grounds in Montana and compete with cattle for food.”
“The Double Branch gets a small number. They winter up the valley from the house. We try to prevent them from eating the hay and protein cake put down for the herds, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they got some of it.”
It was a piece of information Gideon hadn’t volunteered before and Alaina wondered what it would be like to photograph wild elk from the cabin’s loft window. Living in such close proximity would be amazing.
There were herds of cattle beyond the pastures Gideon had mentioned that were used for haying and Alaina saw him assessing them as they passed. Twice he stopped, got down and tightened the wire on a fence. The second time she shot several pictures, hoping Nikko wouldn’t bolt when she wasn’t in full control of his reins.
It was impossible not to be fascinated by the fluid way Gideon’s muscles bunched and pulled, his shirt strained taut against them. He was strong from heavy physical labor and it showed.
“I meant to ask, did you find out what happened to Rita’s mother?” she said as Gideon mounted Blackbird again, one of the horses he was using while Brushfire’s leg healed.
“Jeremy located a cow that had recently given birth,” Gideon explained. “From the brand, we know she belongs to a neighbor, Victor Reese, who’s going to ride over and collect her. When he gets a chance, that is. Victor doesn’t know how she got there, but one of his heifers went missing last autumn, so it could be her.”
Alaina’s stomach fell. She was glad the mother was alive, but what did that mean for Rita?
“Victor said to keep the calf,” Gideon added, answering the question without being asked. “She would have died if we hadn’t found her, and still could, so if we’re willing to put the effort in, he thinks the Double Branch should benefit.”
“That’s generous.”
“Yes and no,” Gideon said wryly. “Victor’s kids used to raise his orphaned calves, but now that they’re grown and living elsewhere, he doesn’t like to bother. Regardless, this isn’t the first time that some of his cows have found their way to the Double Branch. He probably won’t fetch her for several months, hoping she’ll get fat on my grass instead of his.”
“That’s cynical.”
“It’s realistic. He runs too many cattle, so his rangeland is overgrazed. Most ranchers aren’t like that. One of these days I’m hoping he’ll sell his ranch to me.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said.
Obviously ranching was more complicated than she’d thought, with villainy and greed coming into play. And decency, she acknowledged. However difficult Gideon might be, he seemed honest. She also didn’t think he’d stay in the business if there were too many unsavory apples in the barrel, so to speak.
A short time later Gideon suggested they stop and eat the food Helene had sent. They picnicked in the shade by a creek, with Danger splashing in the water and chasing silver flashes of fish. Alaina was tempted to remove her borrowed boots and roll up her jeans for a wade herself. Or even to go swimming in the deeper parts. Her muscles ached from the morning ride, but she was determined not to show any weakness.
So after eating she took pictures of Danger having fun, then started getting shots of the wildflowers along the meandering waterway. A while later she made her way back to the picnic site and saw Gideon lying on his back with his hat over his face.
Well, why shouldn’t he sleep?
He seemed to work eighteen hours a day, seven days a week. If she’d ever had the idea that ranching was easy, her stay at the Double Branch would have proven her wrong.
Curious, Alaina examined the cowboy hat that Gideon had insisted she wear. It looked new, making her think he’d purchased it in Bannister while she was working at the museum. After all, the town had a boot and leather shop and he was annoyed about the additional three thousand dollars she’d insisted on paying him.
The hat was made from quality cream suede leather, soft enough to be comfortable, yet not so much it would lose its shape. She couldn’t imagine a down-to-earth rancher or cowhand wearing such a pale color, or wanting the narrow blue-green braided leather band at the base of the crown.
Feminine, without being too obvious.
Alaina wrinkled her nose and set the hat aside as she lay on her stomach to photograph water striders in the creek. The insects skittered across the surface like comic ice-skaters.
She was so intent on getting the best pictures of the agile bugs she didn’t realize Danger was next to her until he stuck his wet nose into her neck.
Alaina rolled over, laughing softly. Danger’s tongue was hanging from one side of his mouth and he wore an expression of silly joy. Though a working dog, he enjoyed his playtime, too.
“Good boy,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. Are you anxious to get going?”
The German shepherd cocked his head to one side, but didn’t utter a peep. As promised, he was obedient when given the command to be quiet.
FROM UNDER THE brim of his hat, Gideon watched Alaina talk to Danger and rub his neck.
She seemed to have a gift with animals, horses included.
He yawned and plucked a long strand of grass, automatically assessing its condition. Forage grew fast and furiously after winter. The trick was cutting it for hay when it had the greatest nutritional value, while also taking the weather into account. With clear skies predicted, three days ago he’d assigned Jeremy, Chad and Nate to begin cutting the east fields with the ranch’s swathers. Soon they’d all be in a frantic push to mow, bale and store the Double Branch’s hay.
Winter would return all too soon.
It had been rash to insist on doing tours for Alaina at the start of such a busy period on the ranch. Still, someone had to keep an eye on the herds, and he would only be taking her out once a week. He didn’t need to plan any overnight outings until later.
Suddenly restless, Gideon sat up. “Are you done?” he called to Alaina.
“I’ll never be done taking pictures, but we can continue whenever you like.”
She stood and collected the hat he’d given her. Though he saw few signs she was suffering any ill-effects of their long morning ride, he thought it might be wise to cut things short. Alaina was so stubborn she probably wouldn’t tell him if she was uncomfortable. Or even in acute pain.
“Do you mind if we head back?” he asked once they were both mounted. “That way I’d have time to check on how the mowing is progressing. Maybe even do some work myself.”
Alaina shook her head. “It’s fine. Oh, before I forget, I’m meeting with Nels on Monday. Is there a problem with giving him a copy of the photographs I took of the letters and journals?”
“I’ve talked to everyone in the family. We all agree it’s okay. The rights to the content belong to us, my great-grandfather made sure of that.”
“Colby Westcott must have been really sharp.”
Gideon smiled. “He was remarkable, and not just as a rancher. He was also a real-estate whiz, investing across Montana and surrounding states. Some ranches have to get by with ancient mowers, balers and other equipment, but not Grandpa Colby. He was old-school when it came to raising cattle, but he got the best haying equipment that money could buy and built barns to store it.”
“That must have left you in a better position when you inherited the ranch.”
“I was fortunate.”
Gideon didn’t want to discuss his inheritance or how the rest of the family had shared in Colby’s estate. Few people had known the true extent of his great-grandfather’s financial worth. But it was only on paper that Gideon looked wealthy; it would only be true if he sold the Double Branch, something he’d never do. He had to watch his expenditures and losses the same as any other rancher. And with only one real payday each year when he sold cattle in October, he needed as much financial cushion as possible, which was why Alaina’s offer to rent the foreman’s cabin had sounded so attractive.
“You obviously work long hours,” Alaina said after a few minutes, “but days like this must be one of the rewards. I mean...it’s so beautiful and peaceful out here in the sun, I feel like a sleepy, contented cat.”
“It is a good day,” he agreed, tempted to tease and ask if she wanted her neck scratched the way his barn cats enjoyed. “So I’ll try not to say anything that ruffles your fur.”
She grinned. “Wow. In the beginning I didn’t think you had a sense of humor, yet you keep surprising me.”
“That isn’t my fault. Whenever Danger steals my funny bone it takes forever to find where it’s buried.”
Danger yipped at hearing his name and Alaina laughed. “Oh, right, blame everything on the dog.”
Gideon couldn’t recall the last time he’d had this kind of fun, almost flirtatious exchange with a woman. It was his own fault—he was usually worried they’d get the wrong idea. Except that wasn’t an issue with Alaina. If anything, he should be concerned about developing feelings for a woman who was devoted to the memory of her husband.
“I take it a sense of humor is important to you,” he said.
“Only the way breathing is important,” Alaina returned without missing a beat. “Laughter is seductive.”
“A lot of things are seductive. But I admit to being out of practice in that particular area.”
“Me, too. Maybe it’s like riding a bike and you never forget how.” She stopped and wrinkled her nose at him. “Do you have the feeling this conversation has gone out of control?”
“Yeah, but I’m blaming the sunshine. And Danger.”
Danger yipped again.
Alaina leaned over and patted Nikko’s neck. “It’s a good thing neither one of us is driving and that the horses know the route home.” She straightened. “So to blatantly change the subject, tell me why you’re a rancher. Is it more than family tradition?”
Gideon shrugged. “I don’t know what to say except that I’ve never wanted to be anything else. My stepdad was a sheriff and I respected him, but ranching is in my blood, however trite that sounds.”
“It isn’t trite. I feel the same way about photography, and apparently archeology is in Libby’s blood.”
“Yeah. Dad used to take us out to look for artifacts and even as a kid, Libby amazed us with her patience.”
The discussion stayed impersonal and since he was taking a direct route back, it wasn’t too long before they reached the ranch. Alaina handed him the cowboy hat he’d given her, a challenging expression in her blue-green eyes.
“Keep it for the next time,” he suggested. “Or for when you’re out taking pictures.”
“Libby has been trying to talk Helene into riding with her, so one of them may need it. Remember, you promised not to ruffle my fur,” Alaina reminded him lightly.
Gideon let out a breath, both exasperated and amused. Did everything have to be a debate?
“Fine. No fur ruffling.” He took the hat and tossed it into the tack room. When he came back outside, Deke had driven in and was getting out of his personal truck, wearing civilian clothes.
Deke’s schedule changed regularly and he was on the midnight shift this week, giving him afternoons free. He worked hard and everyone knew it. He’d probably be elected sheriff when his father retired, continuing a long Bannister County tradition of having Hewitts in the office.
“Hey, Deke,” Gideon called to his friend, “I’m going to check on the mowing. Do you want to ride along with me? We’ve been out riding, so Nikko is already saddled.”
Curiously, his friend glanced at Alaina, who was still standing by the paddock fence with Nikko. Gideon belatedly realized he’d been headed in her direction instead of toward the ranch house.
“Sure,” Deke said. “Let’s go.”
ALAINA WAS RELIEVED as she watched the two men ride away. She was even more sore now than she’d been at lunch and hadn’t looked forward to Gideon being amused by her stiff gait. Nonetheless, she’d been prepared to groom Nikko the way any good horsewoman would do.
Now she didn’t have to.
“Where’s Deke?” Libby asked as she walked across the compound.
“Gideon invited him to ride with him to check on the mowing.”
Libby scrunched her nose. “My big brother did that deliberately. He keeps hinting Deke is too old for me.”
“What do you think?” Alaina asked carefully.
“It didn’t even occur to me until Gideon started fussing,” Libby said. “Mostly I was flattered Deke was interested. But I enjoy his company and he isn’t that much older.”
“Maybe your brother is concerned because you haven’t finished college,” Alaina suggested, trying to keep a neutral expression on her face. While she’d be a hypocrite to believe the age difference was an insurmountable issue, a lot depended on the people involved.
“Maybe, but it’s my life.” Libby’s face brightened. “I’m going to saddle one of the horses and follow them. Want to come with me?”
Alaina restrained a groan. She wasn’t sure when she’d be prepared to get on a horse again. If ever.
“Sorry, I need to work.”
Alaina got a carrot for Grizzly and put it on the usual fence post, then headed for the cabin and took a warm shower to soothe her tired muscles. With all the hiking she’d been doing, who would have thought that riding a horse would have so much impact?
She debated going out on foot with her camera, then decided to take her computer over to the rocking chair by the paddock.
Now would be a good time to give Griz some company.
IF ALAINA HAD thought she was stiff and sore immediately after her ride with Gideon, it was nothing to how she felt the next morning.
Her thighs, her hips, her back...muscles she hadn’t even known existed were protesting.
“Ohmigosh,” she groaned, easing her legs over the edge of the mattress. This could have been Gideon’s grand plan all along, to ensure she wouldn’t wander off on any hikes on her own. It took her over twenty minutes to get dressed. Then, thinking it was unwise to walk downstairs on such wobbly legs, she sat at the top of the stairs and went down each step on her bottom.
Alaina felt triumphant when she reached the main floor. This wasn’t any different from the first time she’d gone on a marathon bike ride. Of course, she’d been fourteen then, not twenty-nine. So perhaps she needed to go light on activity, exercising parts of her body that weren’t hurting.
Surely log splitting used different muscles than riding a horse. After breakfast she went out to assess the remaining logs from the first load. Robert Pritchett had warned her to be careful with any chunks that had knots because they were harder to split. He was right. They were the only pieces she had left.
Alaina lifted the ax.
It hurt.
She tried whacking a piece of wood.
It hurt even more.
She dropped the ax and sat on the chopping block, watching as Gideon, Jeremy and Nate conferred near one of the ranch trucks. Gideon looked over at her and she waved cheerily. It looked as if he frowned, then they all got into the truck and drove out, presumably headed for the fields being mowed.
Alaina was glad he hadn’t come over to ask how she was doing, or she might have used language that would scald his ears. No doubt he knew how she felt and thought the whole thing was extremely funny.
Or was she being fair?
Their ride the day before had shaken her view of Gideon. Beneath his solemn exterior she’d glimpsed a thoroughly enjoyable trace of whimsy.
After a slow walk to the other side of the valley and back, Alaina carried her computer to the paddock and sank into the weathered rocking chair. She suspected Grizzly would respond more readily if she pretended not to be interested, so she opened the laptop and began reviewing her photos from the museum. A while later soft hoof clops approached and from the corner of her eye, she saw Grizzly standing on the other side of the fence.
She held a carrot in the air without looking at him. After a moment there was a gentle tug as he accepted a treat from her hand for the first time.
Despite her aches and pains, Alaina smiled.
Success.