CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Shep was building up his cook fire to make breakfast as Maggie and the other three women who had ridden the last night-herd shift rode into camp. Maggie unsaddled her horse and turned it out in the rope corral they’d improvised. She took her small New Testament from her saddlebag and stashed her gear outside the corral. She’d need it again in an hour.

As she ambled toward the chuck wagon, Shep waved and grinned at her. Maggie returned his salute but didn’t call out to him, as some of the women still slept nearby. She found a quiet place to read for a few minutes behind the wagon and sank to the grass with her back against the front wheel. She couldn’t always find time to read Scripture during her long, arduous days, but she felt more settled and confident when she could. For the past three days, she’d struggled to get through Psalm 119—the longest chapter in the Bible. If she could read one or two of the short sections this morning, she’d be satisfied.

The words of the 111th verse struck her as odd: Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage forever; for they are the rejoicing of my heart. I have inclined mine heart to perform thy statutes always, even unto the end. She hadn’t felt much inward rejoicing lately. With her father’s health problems, their financial worries, her grief over her mother, and the grueling work of the cattle drive, she was thankful if she got through each day in one piece. Chronically short on sleep and aching from her labor, she could barely recall what joy felt like.

She leaned back against the spokes of the wheel and closed her eyes. Her father had given up hope. He’d said that if not for her … what? Was he desperate enough to end his life to avoid the pain ahead and the shame of debt? How could she feel anything akin to joy while she wondered if he was still alive?

Lord, this says Your testimonies are my rejoicing. I guess I always thought our families and just plain living were what brought us joy. But right now, living’s worn me down. Show me how to perform Your statutes to the end. She sat still for a moment, thinking about that, and not completely sure what it meant. She supposed when David wrote it, he was expressing the hope that he would keep God’s commandments all his life. Was there more to it than that?

Lord, show me what to do. Help me to pay down the bills so Papa won’t be worried, and so he won’t feel ashamed of being in debt. And please, could You let Papa feel better? If it’s not part of Your plan for him to recover, Lord, at least let him not suffer. Please.

She lingered another minute in prayer, then rose and dusted off her skirt. As she rounded the end of the wagon, Carlotta was rolling up her blankets.

“Good morning.”

Her smile lifted Maggie’s heart, and she sent up another quick prayer of thanks for the friends who gave so much to help her.

“Are you going in to Brownwood tonight?”

“I’d like to,” Maggie said. “Let’s see if we make a good distance today.”

“If you go, I will go with you,” Carlotta said. “I think my mama would like it if I sent word that we are doing so well.”

“Yes, and I’d like to send Papa a telegram, too. I didn’t get to do that in Milburn.”

Maggie hated to spend the money, as her funds for the trip were now lower than planned, thanks to the steep toll she’d paid.

The day was as hot, dusty, and demanding as any, but they moved the cattle nearly fifteen miles and camped on a stretch of range not far from Brownwood. After a quick cleanup, Maggie, Carlotta, and Rhonda saddled fresh mounts, leaving Sarah in charge.

They rode into town and found the telegraph office still open. Maggie struggled to save words and therefore money. Finally she settled on ARRIVED BROWNWOOD ALL WELL. Not very personal but adequate.

Carlotta also sent a message to her parents. She didn’t divulge what she said, but her telegram was considerably longer than Maggie’s, and she paid three times as much without apparent qualms. But then, her father’s ranch was not failing, and his men had probably just returned from their roundup with a huge profit in hand.

They strolled along the street, keeping an eye out for Bronc Tracey—Rhonda’s tall, strapping husband would be easy to spot. When they didn’t see him along the length of the main street, Carlotta said, “Come into this restaurant. I will buy supper for all.”

“We can’t let you do that,” Maggie said.

“Why not? I would like to. Besides, I want some pie, and Shep doesn’t make pies in his chuck wagon.”

Rhonda laughed and eyed Carlotta cautiously. “Miss Carlotta, if you won’t be hurtin’ for money …”

“That is not a problem,” Carlotta said. Maggie was very familiar with the Herrera home, and she was sure her friend made no exaggeration. “And you may call me Carlotta. ‘Miss’ seems very formal for trail mates.”

Rhonda smiled. “All right. Thank you.” She looked expectantly at Maggie.

Maggie gave a chuckle. “I give in. But you mustn’t make a habit of treating us, Carlotta. We’ll become quite spoiled, and I’m very thankful we have Shep.”

“Oh, yes, Shep is wonderful, and he cooks fine for a cattle drive. But now and then I get this—you know—longing—for something sweeter than his flapjacks with sorghum.”

“A craving,” Maggie said.

“Oh, yes ma’am.” Rhonda closed her eyes for a second. “Give me a slice of berry pie and I’m happy. Of course, Bronc likes it too. Feeding that man is a chore, and I tend to eat too much of it myself.” She patted her stomach, which was thicker than Maggie’s or Carlotta’s.

Maggie just smiled, but Carlotta put an arm around Rhonda’s shoulders. “My dear, you look lovely, and if it is any comfort to you, I believe you are slimming on this adventure.”

“That’s true,” Maggie said. “I think we’ve all lost weight on trail rations and all-day exercise.”

As they talked, Carlotta herded them toward the restaurant.

“I do hope you’re right,” Rhonda said. “If I can earn a few dollars and come home thinner too, Bronc will be tickled.”

“Well, if Poppy Wilson gets any thinner, she’ll be too light to throw a calf,” Maggie said, and they all laughed.

“That girl.” Carlotta shook her head. “She looks frail, but she’s anything but.”

They entered the dim dining room, where several long tables were set up for customers. More than half the seats were taken, but they managed to position themselves so that Rhonda had a view out one of the windows and could watch for Bronc. Maggie looked around at the other patrons. While the majority were men, a sprinkling of respectable-looking women had also come in for supper, most with male escorts. All seemed to enjoy their meal.

“The food must be good here,” Carlotta said.

They ordered the fried chicken dinner and mashed potatoes all around, with plenty of wheat bread and fresh tomatoes on the side. The dishes they didn’t get in camp tasted heavenly to Maggie and made her a little homesick for Dolores’s kitchen.

The waitress had just brought their blackberry pie when Rhonda cried, “There’s Bronc and Alex.” She pushed back her chair and rose, her eyes aglitter and her dark cheeks flushed.

“Do you want to see Alex?” Carlotta asked Maggie softly.

“I most certainly do not.” Maggie hated the way her heart had leaped and ricocheted when Rhonda spoke his name. “I told him to go away and stay out of our business.”

Carlotta stood and said to Rhonda, “Why don’t you go out and tell Bronc we’re in here. If he wants to come in for some pie, that’s fine—I’ll buy him a piece and a cup of coffee. But we’d rather not see the rest of their bunch.”

“I understand.” Rhonda threw Maggie an apologetic smile and wove her way between the tables to the door.

“That man infuriates me,” Maggie said as Carlotta resumed her seat.

“Bronc?”

“No, not Bronc. You know who I mean.”

Carlotta smiled. “Yes, I know.”

“You think it’s funny. Well, I’m starting to get downright aggravated with him.”

“Settle down, chica. Enjoy your pie.”

Maggie managed to keep silent and not spew her anger, but the blackberry pie’s flavor wasn’t nearly as good as she’d anticipated.

A couple of minutes later, Rhonda bustled in with Bronc in tow.

Carlotta stood. “Hello, Bronc. I’ll go ask the waitress to bring you some pie and coffee.”

“Thank you, señorita.” Bronc sat down beside Rhonda and shot Maggie a shy glance. “Evenin’, Miss Maggie.”

“Hello, Bronc. I do hope you and your friends aren’t trying to interfere with our drive again.”

He blinked at her directness. “Oh, no, ma’am. We come into town lookin’ for work. I was tellin’ Rhonda, Joe Moore’s goin’ to stay here and work for the freighter down the street, and I can stay too, if I want. We all worked for him today.”

“That sounds good,” Maggie said. “I’m glad you all found a way to earn some money.”

“Well, I don’t really want to stay here long iffen Rhonda’s going back to her old job.”

“I’d be crazy not to,” his wife said.

Bronc nodded, but his dark eyes flicked a troubled glance her way.

Carlotta returned with the waitress close behind her, bearing a coffeepot and a plate that held a generous slice of pie.

“Mm, mm, that looks good.” Bronc grinned at Carlotta. “Thank you kindly.”

While they all finished their pie, Maggie thought about the Traceys’ situation. She certainly didn’t want the couple to separate in order to earn a living. Still, they’d never had children, so their needs were not as great as some families’.

“Bronc,” she said when they were all sipping second cups of coffee, “if you want to stay here and work for two or three weeks, we could pick you up on our way back from Fort Worth.”

Rhonda and Bronc both stared at her across the table.

“You’d do that?” Rhonda asked.

Maggie shrugged. “I don’t blame your husband for what happened at the sheep ranch.”

“Oh, no, ma’am,” Bronc said quickly. “It warn’t my idea.”

“So you said. I’m not sure who came up with that plan,” Maggie said, “but I can’t release the leaders of your group from blame.”

“That’s not really fair of you, my dear,” Carlotta said gently. “I don’t suppose Alex is that angry with you.”

“Oh, no, Alex didn’t do that,” Bronc said. “He was against it. But the others said it was all in fun, and they sorta talked him out of trying to do anything about it.”

“That sounds more like Alex,” Carlotta said, “though I might have thought he’d shame them out of such a childish stunt.”

“That’s why they didn’t tell him until it was done, ma’am.” Bronc’s dark eyes met Carlotta’s in a plea for understanding.

Maggie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It still wasn’t right.”

“No, ma’am.” Bronc lowered his chin and looked down at his coffee mug.

“But anyway,” Maggie went on, “I’ve been thinking about the ranch. When I get back from Fort Worth, I’m going to have to hire a new crew. You’re a hard worker, Bronc. If you came around the Rocking P in a month or so, there might be work for you there.”

Bronc stared at her for a moment, his eyes huge, then his face split in a big grin. “Why, thank you, ma’am.”

“What about Mr. Porter?” Rhonda asked.

Bronc sobered. “Yes’m. Will the boss want to take me on?”

Maggie’s lip trembled, and she raised her coffee and took a sip, giving herself time to regain control. “Come around then if you still need a job, and we’ll see, all right?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” Bronc grinned at Rhonda. “See, sugar? Maybe we can keep the house after all.”

“You were going to move?” Carlotta asked in surprise.

Rhonda shrugged. “Well, if he wasn’t workin’, we didn’t know if we could pay the rent.”

“You could stay in one of the cabins on the ranch,” Maggie said. “It would be farther for you to go to work, though.”

“If we both got jobs, it won’t be no problem,” Bronc said. “But we’ll keep it in mind. Thank you, Miss Maggie.”

She nodded, hoping she could make good on the offer. So much depended on her father’s condition. More than anything, she wanted him to get well, but Dr. Vargas held out no hope of that. If her father did recover enough to run the ranch for a while, he might not want any of his former employees back. But Maggie didn’t expect that to happen. If the doctor was right, she had better plan for her future without her father’s guidance.

“So, where are the other men, if I may ask?” Carlotta smiled at Bronc. “Are you all in town tonight?”

“Yes’m. They’re all over to the saloon. Early and Nevada said they’d stand Joe a drink, since he’s leavin’ ’em tomorra.”

“Maybe you should be over there too,” Maggie said, “if you’re staying to work for the freighter with Joe.”

“This here pie’s better than what they got.” Bronc reached for Rhonda’s hand. “But if you ladies don’t mind, I’d like to show Rhonda the town. They got some bigger stores than Brady, and I thought she’d like to see ’em. Of course, if you ladies want to come along, you’re welcome.”

Maggie smiled. “You two go ahead. I’m going to head back to camp, since I have the early shift on night herd.”

“I’ll go with you, Maggie.” Carlotta folded her napkin and laid it on the table. “It was good to see you, Bronc.”

As Maggie rose and reached for her hat, Bronc stood on the other side of the table. “Miss Maggie?”

“Yes?” She looked over at him.

His big, handsome face had a wistful air. “Ma’am, do you think you’d hire other fellas too, or was you only speakin’ about me?”

Maggie hesitated. Was he asking for Joe and Alex and the others who were with him now? She was still angry at them—angry for leaving her father when he was sick and in trouble. Angry with them for making her difficult job on the drive even harder. Perhaps she was most angry because they’d found that funny. She’d thought better of Alex. Nevada and Early, too, though she’d had no expectations for Joe. Some of the other cowboys she would never hire back, with Tommy at the top of that list. On the other hand, men like Stewie and Leo and Harry had been the backbone of her father’s operation. She needed men like that.

Carlotta said softly, “Sometimes it is better to have friends you know near you, even if they aren’t perfect.”

Maggie pulled in a deep breath. All she had to do to drive Alex away forever was to say it now. If she told Bronc she wouldn’t hire Alex back, he would never come around the Rocking P again.

To her discomfiture, tears flooded her eyes.

“I’ll consider any man for a job if he’ll pledge his loyalty to the ranch—except Tommy Drescher. If you know of any more like him—troublemakers—I don’t want them. But the rest, if they haven’t scattered, you can tell them this: The Rocking P is going to come back. It’s going to be as strong as it was five years ago. And we’re going to need a good, solid bunch of cowboys.”

Bronc grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll surely tell ’em.”

Maggie nodded. “Well, give me some time first. There’ll be things I’ll need to take care of when I get home. But I’ll expect to see you next month.”

Maggie walked outside. Carlotta stopped to pay for an extra piece of pie for Bronc and hurried out to join her.

“You did fine, querida.”

“Did I?” Maggie choked. Maybe she’d made a big mistake, opening the door to Alex and the others. “I hope I don’t regret this.”

“You won’t.” Carlotta gave her a squeeze. “Come on. You need some rest before you go on watch.”

The men headed back to their camp later than Alex liked. What if Tommy and his friends had taken advantage of the quiet evening to make trouble for the women on the cattle drive? With three of the women in town, they could have wreaked havoc.

Before approaching their campsite in a secluded hollow, they rode to the high point they’d scouted earlier. Maggie’s herd had spread out some, and they couldn’t see all of it, but things looked calm. There wasn’t much of a moon tonight, but a multitude of stars shone overhead, and after he’d sat for a while surveying the scene, Alex could pick out a couple of nightriders.

“Looks like they’re doing fine,” Early said.

“Them gals are always fine.” Joe’s speech was a little slurred from all the celebrating.

“Let’s get you into your bedroll,” Nevada told him. “Come on.”

Alex let Nevada and Early take Joe down to the camp. They’d roll him up in his blankets and tend to his horse. They’d left Bronc in town with Rhonda. Alex hoped the big cowboy wouldn’t stay away too late. He’d need sleep too, since he’d decided to throw in his lot with Joe and go back to work for the freighter in the morning.

Alex hated to see the small band break up, but it was probably for the best. They couldn’t drift forever, and they all needed an income. The more he thought about it, the more eager he was to see his parents and his younger siblings. He’d at least go home for a visit. Pa and his partner, Tree Garza, would have a good idea of the job situation in that area. If it didn’t look too promising, Alex could write to his uncle, Judson Morgan, and see if things looked better down Victoria way.

It seemed like a good plan, and Alex relaxed a little in the saddle. Maybe his family could help Nevada find a place, too. He wouldn’t mind staying in touch with his friend. As to Maggie, he’d see her safely to Fort Worth, and then he’d be off.

He lifted his eyes skyward once more. Lord, show me where You want me. I don’t want to just drift.

Beyond Granbury, Maggie’s spirits buoyed. They were within reach of their goal—the stockyard. Another three or four days, and this trial would be over.

Poppy Wilson rode up beside her on the afternoon of June tenth. “We’re close to Benbrook. I’d like to ride into town and send my father a telegram if you don’t mind.”

Maggie nodded. She’d like to send one, too, but her funds were so low, she knew she couldn’t afford it until the cattle buyers paid her.

“Would you go now, so you can get there before the post office closes?”

“Sure,” Poppy said. “Do you want me to ask for your mail?”

“Yes, Benbrook is one of the towns I told Papa I’d check in at.”

Poppy eyed her gravely. “I can ask my folks to let your pa know we got here.”

Maggie’s heart leaped. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t want you to spend extra money to do that.”

Poppy brought her horse in closer and touched her shoulder gently. “We’re all praying for your father, Maggie. You don’t talk about it much, but we know you’re worried about him. He kept to his bed the day we got back from the roundup, and I figured he was pretty sick. I do hope he’s feeling better now.”

“Thank you,” Maggie choked out again. A tear slid down her cheek, and she rubbed it away. “It would be a relief to know he’d get word about us. In a few more days, I’ll send him a wire myself, but right now I just can’t.”

Poppy nodded. “Consider it done.”

Maggie supposed spending an extra dollar or two wouldn’t matter as much to the banker’s family as it would to most of those represented in her outfit.

“Take Mariah and Helen,” Maggie said. “I don’t think they’ve been in town this whole drive.”

“Well, I thought I’d take Shep.”

“Does he want to go?”

“I don’t know,” Poppy said with a rueful smile. “I just thought he deserved to.”

“He’s gone ahead to fix supper. You can ride up there and ask him if you want. If everything’s ready, he could go, and we’ll serve ourselves.”

In the end, Shep stayed in camp.

“Tell Miss Maggie I’ll cut loose when we get to Fort Worth” was the message Poppy brought her.

Poppy took Mariah Key and her cousin, Helen Branch, and headed into town. The other women pushed on for two more hours and settled the cattle for the night a mile beyond the cutoff to Benbrook.

Twilight had fallen and Maggie was riding herd, watching the stars pop out, when the three women returned to camp. Poppy rode out to her with a letter in Dolores’s handwriting, but nothing from Maggie’s father.

“I sent my telegram, and I decided to send another to your pa,” Poppy said.

“Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t have done that.” Maggie was astounded at the gesture, but Poppy just laughed.

“I’m afraid I let it look like you’d sent it. Do you mind awfully? I just said, Safe at Benbrook. Love, Maggie.”

An onslaught of tears prevented Maggie from answering. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

“Dear Maggie! I’m sorry, did I do wrong?” Poppy drew her horse closer to Maggie’s and reached for her.

Maggie shook her head. “No. Thank you so much.”

Poppy nodded, watching her closely. “Do you need to rest for a while? I’m not scheduled until midnight, but I could come on now.”

“No, I’m fine.” Maggie pulled off her bandanna and wiped her cheeks. “Bless you.”

Poppy smiled and reached in her pocket. “Brought you this.”

Puzzled, Maggie reached out for the little bag she held.

“Horehound drops,” Poppy said. “I’ll see you later.”

She trotted away in the darkness. Maggie took two deep breaths. Poppy was a dear girl she’d need to get to know better. She opened the little bag of candy and took out one hard, sugary nugget and tucked it into her mouth. She tore open Dolores’s letter and squinted in the darkness. She made out the first lines—“Your papa’s holding his own, and his appetite is better.” That was enough for now.

Thankful for the reassuring news, Maggie bent over, fussed with the buckle on her saddlebag, and dropped the bag of candy and her letter inside. She’d read the rest in the morning, when she didn’t have tear-fogged eyes. She quickly assessed the herd’s attitude—all seemed quiet. Bitty was riding the edge of the herd some distance away. All was well. Maggie urged her horse into a slow, steady walk around the grazing cattle.

A couple of hours had passed, and Maggie, Bitty, and Rhonda were due for relief on their watch. The wind blew gently but persistently across the plains, and Maggie wished she’d tied her jacket to the back of her saddle.

She met Rhonda on the edge of the herd, close to the base of a low hill. A few of the cattle had ventured up the slope, pulling grass, and she hated to drive them back down, but she’d have to soon, or they’d be over the top.

“Nice and peaceful,” Rhonda called from a few yards away.

Maggie walked her horse closer. “Have you heard from Bronc?”

“No. That man better be workin’ hard back in Brownwood.”

“I hope he’s putting some money by for you.” Maggie cocked her head. She’d caught the sound of hoofbeats. “Must be the midnight watch coming.”

Rhonda turned toward the increasing sound. “They’re comin’ awful fast.”

Maggie caught her breath. She kneed her horse into a trot and rode toward the newcomers. “Slow down,” she called, low but urgent.

The horses came on—four of them. They rumbled past her, and one of the riders let out a shriek. Another fired a pistol into the air, and Maggie’s heart all but stopped.

It took her less than a second to collect her wits and her horse. She whirled him back toward the herd, but the interlopers were already in their midst, yelling and shooting. The cattle lowed and snorted, jostling one another as they sought room to bolt.

Most of the herd headed north, but small bunches tore off and lit out for parts unknown. Maggie looked around for Bitty and Rhonda. She thought she glimpsed Rhonda, fifty yards ahead, but she wasn’t sure. It might be one of the men. She brought her horse up beside a steer running on the edge of the herd and galloped past him. Their only hope was to turn the leaders and make the cattle run in a circle until they tired and slowed down. Otherwise, they’d scatter from here to Canada.

More horsemen galloped past her. How many of them were there? They’d heard rumors down the trail about rustlers, but she’d thought they were past the danger corridor.

“Yeehaw!” Another rider thundered by her, and Maggie stared after him.

She would never—even by starlight—mistake Alex Bright.