Chapter Eight

Brady was surprised to see Annie was present in the room when he arrived for his regular late afternoon session with Walter. She’d always made herself absent from these daily meetings. And particularly now, after the night of the dance several days ago, he would have thought...

Well, it wasn’t as if they had been consciously avoiding each other since then, like they so deliberately had before that night. For obvious reasons, though, they hadn’t sought each other out either. When they did encounter one another, it was always briefly but politely, as if both of them were resolved not to make the situation any more difficult than it was.

When he entered the bedroom, he found Annie seated on a stool, her hands occupied with a dress in her lap. Brady thought it might be another of her mother’s outfits she was altering. She looked up with a little smile of greeting for him, something that was pleasant but in no way intimate. He nodded back, friendly but equally casual.

It was better this way, he told himself, even if his gut did tighten at the sight of her.

He fully expected Annie to excuse herself, gather up her sewing, and slip away. He was surprised again when she remained seated. Maybe she didn’t want Walter to think she had any reason to flee, an action which could prompt awkward questions. Or maybe Walter had asked her to stay. If so, he wondered why. He was immediately suspicious.

“So, how is that new windmill working out?” Walter asked him.

Brady settled himself on his usual chair and told him about the windmill, following it with his usual report on the day’s activities on the ranch. Annie played no part in the conversation. Head lowered, her needle continued to flash in and out of the seam she was stitching. Brady forgot his suspicion.

Walter sat back in his easy chair, satisfied when Brady finished his report. “I bin thinking it’s time to bring the beeves down from the mountain,” he said.

“So have I. We’ve had enough rain that the valley is greening up again.”

Annie looked up from her sewing, curious now.

Walter turned to her with an explanation. “I expect you were too young to remember it, Annie, but the dry season here in the valley doesn’t make enough feed for a large herd. Every spring we cut out a part of the herd and drive ’em up the mountain. Enough summer rain up there for good grazing, providin’ we don’t range too many cows at the same time.”

“Then in the fall,” Brady added, “we join the herds again in the valley before winter sets in.”

“Makes sense,” Annie said. “I don’t suppose they could survive a winter up there.”

She feigned interest for her grandfather’s sake, Brady thought. He turned back to Walter. “I figured I’d ride up there tomorrow. Boys will be glad to get back to the valley.”

Walter, wanting to include Annie in the discussion, offered another explanation. “Always leave a couple of the hands up there to watch over the herd.”

She nodded and bent her head to her sewing again.

Walter considered Brady’s intention before agreeing to it. “I reckon tomorrow would be good. And, uh, you can take Annie along with you.”

Her head shot up from her work. Brady was as startled as she was by the old man’s offhand proposal. Both of them stared at her grandfather.

“Why are the two of you looking at me like that? It’s a simple enough request, isn’t it?”

Brady wasn’t so sure that it was. His suspicion returned in force. First the riding lessons, then the dance, now this. What are you up to, Walter, and why don’t I like it?

“Do you good, Annie,” the old man continued. “The ride isn’t difficult. You’re enough of a horsewoman now it shouldn’t be a problem for you. ‘Sides,” he added innocently, “it’ll be a chance for you to learn another operation of the ranch.”

So that was it. Walter counted on her staying at the WJ, maybe taking over the operation after he was gone, and this was his way of making certain of that. Brady should have told him long ago that his granddaughter had no intention of remaining on the WJ after he was gone. He should tell him now, but he couldn’t bring himself to break Walter’s heart like that.

“I’d much rather not,” Annie said.

“You sayin’ you don’t want to do this for me? It ain’t like I’m asking for anything special, is it?”

“No, it’s just that...well, I’d rather not.”

The dance, Brady thought. That hadn’t anything to do with Annie valuing the ranch, so why—The explanation struck him then. He was a fool. He should have realized all along what Walter really wanted. A match between Annie and him, and he was using every opportunity to achieve it, throwing them together as often as possible.

Had Annie figured this out? Brady glanced at her, but her expression told him nothing. If she hadn’t guessed, he wasn’t going to say anything to her about it. If Walter persisted, she’d understand soon enough.

Give it up, Walter. It isn’t going to happen.

But Walter did persist with a fretful, “I don’t know why the two of you are forever making mountains out of mole hills when all I’m wanting is a little favor. Just trying to make things pleasant for you before I’m gone and can’t, is all.”

Uttering a feeble little cough, he put his hand over his chest. Brady understood his game. The old faker was using his heart to get his way.

It seemed that Annie, however, hadn’t a clue. Leaping to her feet, she cast her sewing to the floor and hovered anxiously over her grandfather.

“Shall I get your medicine for you?”

“No, no, I’ll be all right. Just have to get this matter settled, then my old ticker here can rest easy.”

Annie caved. “Of course, I’ll ride up the mountain with Brady.”

Walter turned his attention to Brady. “Brady?”

“Sure, why not,” he answered dryly. What choice did he have?

The old man beamed with victory. “Fine. That’s just fine.”

Walter had another smile on his seamed face early the next morning. Only this one was much more evident as he looked down from his window. He had a sudden urge to rub his palms together in glee, like an old miser preparing to count his hoard. It wasn’t a pile of gold coins, however, that had him so pleased. It was the sight of Annie and Brady riding off together across the valley.

Can’t go and expect too much out of this, he tried to tell himself. But you never knew. Could be this little trip up the mountain was all it would take. Yep, why not? Marriage proposals had come out of less.

The thought of Annie and Brady being permanently joined had him grinning again.

Levering himself out of his chair, Walter shuffled over to his bed and pulled the cord that would ring the bell in the kitchen to summon Delores. Then he perched on the edge of the bed and waited impatiently for her to arrive.

“Took your time gettin’ here,” he complained when the housekeeper finally appeared in the doorway.

“Can’t be your breakfast tray you want. You’ve had that already, so what is it?”

“I don’t pay you to question me, woman. Just go down and find Luther. Tell him to hitch up the buckboard. I want him to drive into town and fetch my lawyer back here to the ranch.”

“What do you need your lawyer for?”

“Never you mind. Just give Luther my orders.” Delores turned to go. He called after her a sharp, “And tell him not to take his time about it either. I want that lawyer back here before midday.”

When the housekeeper had gone, Walter stretched out on the bed to rest. He would need a clear mind for his session with the lawyer.

It was time to change his will. He had other plans now for his estate, and funding a cattle museum in Banning was no longer one of them.

****

Brady had told her to tuck a warm coat into one of her saddlebags. She might need it up on the mountain where the air was often much cooler.

He would know that, Annie thought. But down here in the valley the morning was nearly as warm as summer, even though this was October. Only a crisp blue sky overhead and the aspens on the lower slopes so brilliant a gold they almost hurt the eyes to look at them reminded her this was autumn.

On a day like this, she was ready to forget that before much longer the leaves would fall and scatter in a harsh wind heralding winter. She didn’t want to think about that, though, or the vow she had to fulfill. Not this morning when even the clatter of the new windmill they passed, drawing water for the cattle and horses, was a friendly sound.

The tiny creek they forded was still very low, even after the recent rains. The sight of its shallow pools was, as always, soothing to her.

All these contributed to Annie’s mood. But she knew none of them was the chief explanation for her pleasant state. Her companion was responsible for that.

Why not admit it? When they weren’t quarreling, she enjoyed Brady’s company. Even like this, riding side by side with scarcely any conversation, he was easy to be with. A friend really.

Come on, Annie, you know he’s more than that. A lot more.

Yes, she did know it, but why go over any of that again? It had already been established there was no future for them. Not with each other, anyway. Best to just leave it at that.

If you can, mocked the defiant little voice inside her head.

The sight of Brady when she glanced at him didn’t help her to combat that foolish voice. He was never more irresistible than when he was in the saddle, back ruler straight, big hands gentle but firm on the reins, as if he and the horse were one. She had never seen any cowboy better looking than Brady.

Stop it, she ordered herself.

“There’s something that’s been troubling me,” he said.

Had her glance given her away? Had he read her thoughts? Not now, she prayed. Not today when she wanted no strain between them.

“What is it?” she asked hesitantly.

“It’s about Walter and you.”

“Yes?”

“The riding lessons, this trip up to the summer pastures. The old buzzard is trying to make you care so much about the ranch that you’ll never want to leave it.”

“Oh, that.” She relaxed. “Yes, I’ve been aware of it.”

“And?”

Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug. “Let him have his illusion. There’s no harm in it.”

“As long as you don’t let him know that you’ll be leaving when he’s gone.”

“I would never hurt him like that.”

“I hoped you would feel that way.”

Annie was conscious of something else concerning her grandfather. He not only wanted her to remain on the ranch, he wanted to promote a match between Brady and her. The signs had been there for some time.

Had Brady guessed Walter’s intention? He hadn’t said anything to her about it. Nor was she about to mention it herself. It was a dangerous subject.

****

Annie’s grandfather would have been pleased by her reaction when, emerging from the aspens, they paused on a level height to rest the horses from their long climb. The view looking back down the mountain to the valley spread below them filled her with pleasure.

“You ready to break out your coat from the saddlebag?” Brady asked her.

She shook her head. The air up here was certainly cooler, but not so cold yet that she needed a coat.

He gave her a few more moments to admire the vastness of the scene before telling her it was time to move on. “Cabin isn’t far now. We’ll see it after this next switchback.”

“There’s a cabin up here?” she asked, urging Jasper forward into the last stretch of the trail.

“A simple one, but it provides all the comforts the boys need. There’s a shed in back and a pen for the horses and enough hay for emergency feeding.”

“I’m impressed.”

Ten minutes later, rounding a bend, they came in sight of the summer range. The slopes were gentle here, even dipping into meadows that were a lush green. The herd had been collected in one of those generous hollows.

One of the two hands, a towheaded fellow who had to be still in his teens, rushed forward as they dismounted, waving his Stetson and whooping with excitement.

“Hey, boss, we sure are glad to see you!”

“Ready to get off the mountain and back to the bunkhouse, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Been a long summer, so when me and JJ spied you ridin’ ’crosst the valley we figured you was headed our way. We didn’t lose no time roundin’ up the beeves for the drive down.”

Annie was glad to be on the ground again, even if it was only for a few minutes. Brady introduced her to the young towhead, who had been gazing at her curiously.

“Annie, this is Casey, and as you’ve already heard, the other hand over there watching the herd and grinning at us like a happy drunk is JJ.”

“Howdy, ma’am,” the towhead greeted her with a shy smile.

“Miss Johnson is Walter’s granddaughter.”

“That a fact?”

“It is. So, Casey, are they all accounted for and ready to move out?”

“All but one young cow. I swear, she’s been a real nuisance all season, boss. Got a mind of her own. Forever strayin’ way off from the others. By the time we counted her missin’ again, the herd was gettin’ restless. We was afraid they’d go and scatter if we went to hunt her up.”

Annie could see what he meant. The waiting cattle in the hollow were milling about, bawling impatiently.

“Thing is, boss, she’s fixin’ to drop a late calf.”

Brady shook his head. “That’s not good. She and the calf would never make it through the winter if we left them here.”

“Want I should go after her?”

“No, you and JJ better start the herd down before we lose more of them. I’ll get the cow myself. Any idea where she could be?”

“She’s got this spot she favors a piece up the mountain. There’s a spring there, and I guess she finds the stuff growin’ around it tastier than the grass down here.”

“I know the place.”

“I guess you would, boss. JJ says you spent a coupla summers up here yourself when you first come to the ranch.”

“That’s right.”

Annie was conscious of Brady eyeing her thoughtfully as she stood there stroking Jasper’s neck.

“I should send you down with the boys, but they’ll have their hands full managing the herd. And if you should get into any trouble...”

Meaning, she thought, that if she had a problem, he didn’t feel she was an experienced enough rider yet to handle it on her own.

“I think you’ll be safer staying with me, Annie.”

Given their yearnings for each other, she wasn’t so certain about that. But it would be foolish of her to argue with a decision that, after all, made sense. The risk of her getting caught in the middle of a nervous herd was something she didn’t care to chance.

Brady turned to Casey. “You and JJ move ’em on out. Miss Johnson and I will collect the cow and follow you down.”

Brady and Annie waited to mount their own horses until the two ranch hands had driven the cattle out of the hollow and were underway on the trail. By the time the herd was out of sight, she and Brady were picking their way up the mountain.

Annie trusted Jasper. The gelding was sure-footed, which both horses needed to be on a stony path that was as steep as it was rough. She could understand why the other whitefaces hadn’t been tempted to follow the wayward cow to the spring.

Annie waited until the path leveled off on a shelf before she pleaded a halt. “I’m cold.”

“Yeah, temperature’s dropping, and dropping fast.”

They dismounted again long enough to bundle into their coats.

Annie was grateful for the warmth of the sheepskin-lined jacket that was a smaller version of Brady’s own jacket with its wide, woolly collar.

The path grew even steeper as they continued their climb. She was convinced by then that their objective had to be more mountain goat than she was cow.

The spring finally came into view around a crag of rock. Annie heard Brady, several lengths in front of her, cursing with exasperation. She understood why when she moved up beside him.

Below the source of the bubbling spring, its waters had formed a wallow. Not satisfied with the lush growth along the edges, the cow had managed to wander into the mire itself. The animal, now caught in the sticky mud to its knees, bellowed piteously as it struggled uselessly to free itself of the trap.

“Damn, stupid critter. I ought to leave you there.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Annie begged him.

“No, might be one of my brand. Can’t tell with all that muck caked on her rump.”

Even if the brand was a WJ, she felt sure Brady wouldn’t abandon it. He was too conscientious for that. And maybe too tender-hearted as well.

“How will you get her out?”

“Watch.”

Functioning like a well-rehearsed team, man and horse moved forward to the lip of the wallow where Brady reached for his coiled lariat. She watched with interest as he quickly fashioned a loop at the end of the line, whirled the lariat over his head several times, then cast it out over the wallow with the skill of a rod-and-reel fisherman.

It took him only two tries before he successfully lassoed his catch. The loop settled over the short horns of the cow and down around her neck. Tightening the line, Brady snugged his end of it around the saddle horn.

Annie’s interest deepened to fascination as she watched him murmur a brief instruction to his mount. As handsome as its rider, powerful muscles bunching, the big roan, whose name was Napoleon, began to back away from the wallow.

If the noose was in any way painful to the cow, she seemed to have no complaint about it. Slowly, steadily, the line straining with the roan’s effort, the cow was dragged out of the muck that had sucked her down. Once firm ground was under her again, she found her own footing.

While Brady dismounted to recover his lariat, Annie examined the now docile cow. She was plastered with mud, her white face no longer white, her sides bulging with the calf she would bear.

“I hope it was worth it, bossy,” she said, “because you are some sight.”

Brady was recoiling his lariat when Annie suddenly realized the sun was no longer shining. Lifting her gaze from the cow, she was startled to see leaden clouds rapidly closing over the peaks above them. The clouds were accompanied by a mean, biting wind that had her shivering in spite of the thickness of her coat. Turning up its collar, she called to Brady.

“The weather is looking bad.”

“Yeah, I know. We need to get down to the cabin.”

“Don’t you mean the valley?”

He didn’t answer her. She didn’t like the expression on his face. It was grim. Securing his lariat, he swung himself into the saddle and turned his roan in the direction of the path, driving the willing cow ahead of him. She, too, must have sensed the change in the weather and was eager to get away from this place.

Annie didn’t need to urge Jasper to follow them. He was already trotting close behind the roan. They were rounding the crag when the first flakes swirled through the air.

Snow! It was snowing!

****

The snow came down in earnest and collected on the ground long before they reached the cabin. The stuff was so thick in the air, driven by a wind that stung his cheeks, Brady could no longer see the path. He knew, however, that he could trust the horses to find the way.

He kept checking over his shoulder to be sure Annie was close behind him. With the coat collar hugging her ears and her head lowered against the frigid wind, he couldn’t see her face. He wasn’t surprised by this early winter storm. Not at this altitude. But he knew she must be alarmed, even if he hadn’t told her how imperative it was that they gain the cabin before the blizzard trapped them out here in the open. That could be fatal.

Damn it, he should have sent Annie down with the herd. She’d be safe in the valley by now. But it was too late to regret his mistake.

The storm had gathered strength and was raging around them when a relieved Brady finally spied the cabin taking dim shape through the curtain of snow. Minutes later, leading his charges around to the back side of the log structure, he leaned down from the roan to unlatch the gate opening into the pen. He and Napoleon moved to one side, permitting the weary cow, along with Annie and Jasper, to pass through ahead of him.

After fastening the gate behind him, Brady joined the others in the shed at the rear of the pen. Its front was open-sided, its other three solid walls making a snug shelter for the animals against the wind and snow. There was a trough of water here and a long, deep crib filled with a supply of hay. The crib hung high enough on one wall to be out of reach of both horses and cattle, a device meant to conserve its contents.

And under the present circumstances, Brady thought, that just might be necessary.

Annie was already unsaddling Jasper. He followed her example with the roan, then climbed the ladder to fork down hay for the animals.

Annie, spreading the hay out on the floor, looked up from her task to stare at the cow huddled against the wall off in one corner. “Is she unwell?”

“Probably just feeling her calf.” He noticed the light failing, the afternoon shortened by the storm. It would be dark soon. “Let’s get in out of this weather,” he said, taking his rifle with him.

They left the horses with their noses buried in the hay and trudged through the snow that was beginning to drift in the pen to the back door of the cabin.

Although the interior of the cabin was murky with shadows, there was just enough light from the windows to permit Brady to check out the single room. JJ and Casey had left the place in good shape, its two bunks stripped with blankets rolled at their ends, firewood stacked in the box beside the stove, the floor swept clean.

“It’s almost as cold in here as it is outside,” Annie said, arms hugging herself.

“I’ll get a fire going in the stove. Why don’t you light a few of the lanterns?”

With a blaze in the stove radiating heat and the kerosene lanterns blooming with light, the cabin was far more cheerful. Getting to his feet, Brady saw that Annie had discovered the sink equipped with its hand pump. She was staring at it in wonder.

“Where does the water come from?”

“There’s a cistern under the cabin that collects rainwater from the roof.” He nodded at a trapdoor in the floor. “Also a frost-free root cellar down there. Probably enough food stores on the shelves to last for weeks.”

In the silence that followed, Brady could hear the wind howling down from the mountain. When Annie found her voice again, the dismay in her tone said it all.

“Are you saying we’re stranded here? That we could be up here for months, maybe even the whole winter?”