The sun was directly overhead when Sam noticed the cattle starting to slow down—if beasts that barely moved could be said to slow down. She thought they’d be lucky if they covered fifteen miles today.
All morning she and Matt had simply ridden behind the beasts, keeping a watchful eye. Every now and then, Matt would urge his horse toward an errant cow. He used his rope, coiled but dangling loosely from his hand, to shoo the animal back toward the herd. He’d shown her how to hold her own rope, how to gently flap it to direct the animals.
The work wasn’t hard, but it was tiresome. And so dull that she couldn’t figure out why Mr. Vaughn hadn’t been willing to hire her in the first place. As far as she could tell, the greatest danger was falling asleep and toppling off her horse.
The cattle came to a stop. Two cowboys loped toward them and brought their horses to a halt.
“We’ll take first shift,” one said.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Matt responded. “Sam, meet Jeb and Jed.”
Sam couldn’t tell much about them, since their hats shielded the top of their heads and their bandannas hid the lower part of their faces. She could see that they both had tawny eyes.
“They’re twins,” Matt explained. “If you can’t remember which is which, just call out, ‘Twin.’ They both answer to that.”
“How come you’re riding drag, instead of point, like you have been?” one twin asked.
“Gotta teach Sam the ropes, so to speak,” Matt told him tersely, “and the boss wouldn’t let him start at the front.”
Guilt pricked Sam’s conscience. Matt had explained the various positions to her. Farther up were the cowboys who rode flank. Ahead of them, the cowboys were riding the swing position. Point was obviously a coveted spot, in front of the herd, ahead of the choking dust. Matt had been forced to give it up because he’d offered her a spot on this drive.
She would definitely do all she could to become the best cowhand Jake Vaughn or Matthew Hart had ever seen. Or die trying.
“Come on, Sam. Cookie will have set up the wagon at the front of the herd and we have about an hour before we get these little doggies moving again. And we’ll need to get back here so Jeb and Jed can have a chance to eat.”
Following Matt’s lead, she urged her horse into a canter. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this hungry.
Matt had explained that the wagon started out ahead of the herd and traveled to a spot that Jake had determined the night before. When Cookie reached it, he set up and prepared lunch. The meal was usually ready by the time the slow-moving cattle caught up to him. He’d follow the same plan during the afternoon. Where Cookie stopped late in the afternoon was where they’d stay for the night.
As they approached the noonday camp, she could see several cowboys squatting near the supply wagon, shoveling food into their mouths.
She dismounted. Matt took the reins to her mare and tethered it to a nearby bush near his horse.
“Go on and get yourself some food,” he ordered.
She cautiously walked toward the cook. He was dipping a ladle into a huge Dutch oven and bringing out stew.
“I’ll have some, please,” she said.
He turned the ladle to the side to unload its contents. Juice splattered the bowl as the stew hit it. “Son-of-a-gun,” he said.
“That’s all right,” she told him. “It didn’t make too much of a mess.”
He scrunched up his face, and she could have sworn the white whiskers on his face bristled. “I was tellin’ you the name of the stew. It’s son-of-a-gun stew.”
“Oh.” She smiled slightly. “I’ve never heard of that kind of stew. What’s in it?”
“Whatever was easiest to reach.”
She didn’t think that sounded too appetizing. She took the bowl and headed for a nearby tree. She thought about sitting with the other cowboys, but she decided that the less time she spent in their company, the less likely they were to discover she was a girl.
Gingerly she brought a spoonful of stew to her lips and tentatively touched the tip of her tongue to the sauce. Not bad. Not like anything she’d ever tasted before, but not bad.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt take his bowl and drop down beside the wagon, pressing his back to the wooden wheel. She figured he was just as happy to be away from her for a while as she was to be avoiding him. He hadn’t been unkind during their time together, but he hadn’t exactly been friendly, either.
She’d just finished the last of her stew when Jake crouched in front of her. She hadn’t seen him come into camp. She was wishing he hadn’t seen her. He was holding a length of rope about two feet long. He extended it toward her.
“Take it and tie a knot for me,” he ordered.
Licking her lips, she set the bowl aside, took the rope, and expertly tied a knot at its center. Nodding, Jake took the rope and jerked the ends, tightening her knot.
“That’s a knot all right,” he murmured.
She started to smile at passing his test, but he sliced his gaze to her and his harsh scrutiny caused her smile to wither.
“Can you do a double half-hitch?” he asked.
She slowly shook her head.
“Clove hitch?”
Again she shook her head, wishing she hadn’t eaten her stew so quickly. Her stomach was starting to hurt as she realized she hadn’t impressed him in the least.
“They’re one and the same,” he told her. “We use them to secure our horses because the knots can be untied quickly. If a horse tugs on the rope with your kind of knot, it’s just going to tighten and you’ll never get it loose.”
“Cinnamon is trained not to run off.”
“I don’t care how well your horse is trained, it’s gonna bolt if two thousand cattle are running. Besides, you’re not always going to ride your horse. We’ve got horses trained for night riding. And we have cow ponies that will serve you better when you give your horse a rest. Matt!”
She snapped her head back, astounded by his abrupt yelling of Matt’s name. Apparently Matt was equally startled, because she saw his body jerk and his bowl went flying. She might have laughed at his reaction if Jake hadn’t had her pinned to the spot with his stare.
Glowering, Matt got to his feet, picked up his bowl, handed it to Cookie, and trudged toward them.
“What?” he asked when he got near enough to be heard without yelling.
Jake unfolded his body and tossed the rope at Matt. Matt caught it.
“He doesn’t know how to tie any other kind of knot except that one. Teach him,” Jake commanded.
Matt rolled his eyes. “Jake, you’re being unreasonable.”
“Me? I’m not the one who hired him. Teach him or fire him. It’s your choice.”
Sam’s heart slammed against her ribs. Half a day? He was only going to give her half a day to prove herself?
With long strides, Jake walked away. Matt dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Sam could almost see the battle he waged within himself. She had an uncomfortable feeling that teaching her wasn’t winning out over firing her. When he’d offered to hire her, he obviously hadn’t realized he’d be responsible for her. But then she hadn’t realized that, either.
“I’m a fast learner,” she said quickly.
With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes and looked at her. “Let’s hope so.”
He hunkered down in front of her. She watched as his fingers worked to untie her tightened knot. He’d removed his gloves to eat, and she could see now that he had long, tanned fingers.
His hands looked much stronger than hers. His veins stuck up like tiny mountain ranges. When he turned his hands, the calluses became visible. She couldn’t imagine why she was so fascinated by the movement of his fingers and hands. She’d never spent much time noticing a boy’s hands or the firmness in his forearms.
But sitting here with Matt, watching him work, she thought he had the most capable hands she’d ever seen. She wondered what it would feel like to have his hand wrapped around hers, their palms pressed together.
“How many different kinds of knots are there?” she asked, trying to rein in her wandering thoughts.
“About a half dozen that we use,” he answered distractedly. He tugged the rope straight, the knot gone, before lifting his gaze to hers. “Spanish, rose, double half-hitch, square, hackamore, granny, half.” His wide shoulders rolled as he shrugged. “We’ll do one a day until you’ve learned them all. We’ll start with a square knot. Now watch.”
She did. She really did like the way his hands moved, so capable, so sure. She never would have thought she’d find that one aspect of a man incredibly engrossing. He had to show her three times before she remembered to watch the rope and not his fingers.
When he gave the rope to her, she took a deep breath and mimicked his actions. She held up the square knot.
He smiled then, a smile that reached up to touch his blue eyes and made them sparkle like jewels dangling from a necklace. “Impressive. Let’s get back to the herd so Jed and Jeb can come eat. Bring the rope. You can practice a bit as long as the cattle stay calm.”
She got to her feet. “Thanks, Matt.”
He nodded before he sauntered away, leaving her to feel as though once again there was something she either didn’t know or had failed to do properly.
And yet she couldn’t help but feel that he was more upset with himself than with her. He always seemed to start out impatient, but as he explained things he actually became…friendly.
Then he’d back off as though he’d stepped across an invisible line he’d never planned to get near. She didn’t quite know what to make of him or his attitude.
She understood that he didn’t want to ride drag. But she had the feeling that she was the true thorn in his side. And she couldn’t figure out why.