“Samantha Jane Reynolds, have you lost your ever-lovin’ mind?”
Standing in the front room of the house, her pa’s battered cowboy hat clutched in her hands, what was left of her hair curling around her face, Sam straightened her shoulders and squarely faced her mother. Cowering now would only give her mother ammunition that she could use to prove Sam had no business going on this cattle drive.
“It’s a hundred dollars, Ma.” She made her eyes grow big and round. “A hundred dollars. Think about what we could do with all that money.”
“What I’m thinking about is what could happen to you on a cattle drive. You’d be the only young woman. It ain’t right.” Her mother shook her head. “It just ain’t right.”
“It’s men and boys, Ma. And they think I’m a boy. I had a long talk with one fella. He was lookin’ me over real close.”
Almost as closely as she’d been looking him over. She couldn’t figure out why she’d been unable to tear her eyes from him. Normally boys didn’t hold her attention for long.
“He never figured out that I was a girl,” she continued. “And I never aim to tell anyone, so I’ll be fine. Besides, you let Benjamin go off to war when he was the same age as me,” she pointed out.
“That’s different. He was a boy!” her mother said.
“I can do this, Ma.” She took a step closer. “Please, let me go. I promise I’ll be all right.”
“A promise is easily given, Samantha Jane, when you don’t know what the future holds.” Her ma cradled Sam’s cheek. “I know you mean well, but all you’re going to do is make me worry.”
“Aren’t you worried now, Ma? Don’t you worry about how much more credit Mr. Thomas will give you at the general store? Don’t you worry about the crops? How are you going to buy seed for next year? And Nate. He’s growing. How are you gonna keep feeding him? By doing without enough food for yourself? Until you get sick, just like Pa?” She hadn’t intended to be mean spirited with the reminder of her father, but she had to make her mother see the merits of letting Sam go on the cattle drive.
Her mother turned away. “We’ll find a way.”
“How, Ma? Just tell me how.”
Her mother wiped her hands on the apron she always wore. Patched now, it looked more like a tiny quilt. “I’ll think of something.”
But Sam heard the desperation in her mother’s voice. “Benjamin won’t go on this cattle drive because he doesn’t think he can. I not only think I can, I know I can. Nate would do it, but he’s not old enough. I’m old enough. I want to do this so badly that my chest aches when I think you might not let me. I know how to take care of myself.”
Her mother faced her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she held out her arms. Sam stepped into her embrace, and her mother’s arms closed around her.
“I keep forgetting that you grew up during the war,” her mother rasped. “The money would be more than welcome and would sure go a long way toward making life easier.” She leaned back and lovingly touched Sam’s short curls. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Sam nodded briskly. “I wouldn’t have cut my hair otherwise, Ma. I’m not scared. It’s a good outfit. It’ll be an adventure.”
Her ma hugged her close. “Then go with my blessings, and come home as soon as you can.”
“You did what?”
Leaning against the tree, Matthew cut a quick glance at Jake Vaughn. “You’re gonna start a stampede with all that bellowing, Jake.”
He watched while Jake wore a path in the ground with his agitated pacing. Matthew had purposely waited until they’d returned to the herd to break his news. He hadn’t wanted Jake to have time to track down the boy and inform him that Matthew had given him a false promise.
Jake stumbled to a stop. “He’s a scrawny kid.”
Matthew shrugged. “Just looked hungry to me. I’ve been hungry.” More times than he cared to think about, when the Union had cut off their supplies. He didn’t want to remember the things he’d eaten when nothing else was available. “Besides, he’s got spunk.”
Matthew thought about how the kid had jerked up his chin defiantly. Beneath the dirt, it didn’t look like he was even growing whiskers yet. Heck fire, he’d probably lied about his age, too. He figured Jake had noticed that as well.
“He knows nothing about herding cattle,” Jake pointed out.
“He can herd a milk cow.”
“A milk cow? We’ve got two thousand head of cantankerous longhorns. Your pa hired me to get them to Sedalia.”
Matthew rubbed the side of his nose and peered at Jake. “My pa, which in a way sort of makes this my herd.” Even though his father had made it clear that Matthew wasn’t to give orders; he was only to follow them. “Can’t have two bosses,” his father had explained.
This drive was the first one that they’d embarked on since the war. Matthew had been raised around cattle, but he’d only been a kid when he’d helped his father herd them before the war. Trail bosses were paid well because they knew all there was to know about the cattle, the trail, and more important, about handling men. Matthew was still learning. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he wasn’t.
“Reckon I ought to have a say in who works for us,” Matthew added. Although in truth, he knew he had no say whatsoever. If it came down to it, Jake could send him packing just as easily as he could the next man.
And considering the way Jake was glowering at him, he wouldn’t be surprised if he did dismiss him right then and there.
Jake slowly nodded. “All right. We’ll give the kid a chance to show us what he’s made of. But if he lies to me one more time—”
“He won’t,” Matthew rushed to assure him. “I already warned him about your dislike for liars. You won’t be sorry.”
Jake took a threatening step toward him. “I promise you this, Matthew Hart. If I am? You’ll be even sorrier.”
Jake trudged off with his warning lingering in the air.
Matthew shifted his stance, wincing as he put unexpected pressure on his right leg. He’d taken a bullet at Gettysburg. His limp was barely noticeable now, although he found the twinges irritating.
But not as irritating as letting his father down by doing something that would stop them from getting these cattle to market. He could only hope that he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his life by offering the boy a place on the drive.
He was still having a hard time believing that he’d interfered with the hiring. He’d always been one to follow orders—not interfere with them. Even when he disagreed with the man in charge, he did what he was told.
The boy would have to learn to do the same thing—without any help from Matthew.
He’d done his good deed for the day. From now on, the kid was on his own.