Chapter Nineteen

Dylan stood beside the corral at the Bar X, watching the mustangs. He’d begun the arduous process of taming the wild horses, but he wanted to round up still more. He knew the army would pay well for as many saddle-broken mounts as he could provide. He and Monty were planning to ride out the following day to go after a small herd he’d located several miles away.

But first they’d kick up their heels at the school-house tonight. It had fallen to Dylan to bring the bottle of whiskey to the dance. He and Rachel had spent more time kissing than gathering ginseng that afternoon, and Monty had won the wager. Dylan couldn’t say he regretted the way he’d spent his time, though. He grinned. He was looking forward to more of the same tonight.

Those thoughts were driven from his mind by the sound of galloping hooves approaching. Monty drew up beside him in a cloud of dust.

“What’s your hurry?” Dylan asked, shading his eyes from the setting sun as he looked up at his friend.

“I’ve just come from the post,” Monty said, swinging down from his horse. “Poor Iva’s real bad off. Doc Johnson says there’s nothin’ more he can do for her, but there’s a specialist in Denver who might be able to help her. John Jacob’s gonna take her there.”

“What about Rachel and Jassy?” Dylan demanded. “Who’s going to protect the girls from all those rough men at the post?”

“That’s just it,” Monty said. “John Jacob is afraid Web Spencer might come round while he’s gone. He wants you to stay down at the post till he gets back.”

“Damn!” Dylan swore angrily. “What am I to do for all that time down at the post? And what about that herd of wild horses we want to go after? They won’t wait till Andrews gets back,” he fumed. “We can’t leave Rachel at the post with only the protection of the cook either. You know Andy gets drunk every evening after he finishes serving supper.”

“He’d be no use at all,” Monty agreed.

“Well, we can talk about that later. I’d better pack up a few things and ride down there,” Dylan said, striding toward the ranch house.

“Yeah, John Jacob already took off with Iva. Rachel’s trying to comfort them two little tykes, now their ma’s gone.”

It was almost dusk as the two men tied their horses up at the hitching rail in front of the post. Rachel poked her head out the door in answer to their knocking.

“I’ll be out in a minute, fellows,” she said, her voice hushed. “I’m just trying to get Benny and Colby settled down for the night. Rosie says she’ll sit with them while we go to the dance. The poor little mites are all broken up about their ma.”

When the door closed behind her, Dylan turned to Monty. “I’ve been thinking on what to do about Rachel and Jassy.”

“Have you come up with any ideas?” Monty asked as they settled into chairs on the porch.

“Well,” Dylan said after a stretch, “I’ve come up with one conclusion. I have to keep after my wild horses. The money I make from their sale will buy feed for my cattle through the winter and leave some cash left over to begin buying breeding stock. This is the only chance I’ll have to go after that herd of mustangs before we start the trail drive to Abilene.”

“So what’s your idea? Come on, tell me.” Monty grinned at Dylan. “It couldn’t be any wilder than some other things that have jumped up in that empty head of yours over the years.”

Dylan said gruffly, “We could take the girls with us on the mustanging.”

A wide smile split Monty’s face. “That’s a fine idea, but I doubt Rachel would want to go with us. She’s taking her responsibility to Colby and Benny very seriously.”

“But those boys aren’t in any danger here, and Rachel is. Rosie could look after the kids. We’d only be gone a night or two.” Dylan pointed out.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Jassy burst out, letting the door slam behind her as she breezed onto the porch.

“Have you been eavesdropping on us?” Monty demanded.

“Of course not,” Jassy replied indignantly. “I just happened to overhear what you were saying.”

“I think that’s a big blazer,” Monty said, laughter in his eyes when he looked at her.

“It’s not a lie!” Jassy said angrily. “Anyway, I bet Rachel would be happy to go with you. She loves horses, you know.”

“That’s true, she does,” Dylan mused, “but she wouldn’t care to sleep out at night, listen to the wolves howl.”

“That is a poser,” Monty said thoughtfully. “But she’d be safer out there in the wilderness with us than back here with the two-legged wolves that hang around this place.”

Just then Dylan whispered, “Shh, I hear Rachel coming. Let me do all the talking,” he cautioned Monty.

“Here you are, Jassy.” Rachel smiled at her cousin as she sat down in a chair on the porch. “It’s almost time for us to get ready.” She looked over at Dylan and Monty and asked with a smile, “What are you two gabbing about?”

“We’re just discussing a band of wild horses we want to go after. We were planning to ride out tomorrow, but now we’re stumped. You know John Jacob wants me to stay here at the post while he’s gone,” Dylan began.

Jassy shot him a sly look, then heaved a deep sigh. “I wish I could go with you men. I’ve always wanted to go mustanging. Sleep out under the stars, eat food cooked over an open fire.”

“I don’t suppose Granny would let you go with us,” Monty said, playing along.

“She might if Dylan asked her,” Jassy answered promptly. “She thinks the only reason the sun comes up is to shine on him.”

“Hah!” Monty snorted. “Your granny doesn’t know him like I do. Why, if I had a daughter, I wouldn’t let him get within a mile of her. What does Granny Hawkins think of me, Jassy?”

“You’re another story. Monty Hale.” Jassy gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Granny says that you’re a dickens, but that at heart you’re an honorable man who wouldn’t take advantage of a nice girl.”

Monty looked at her teasingly and asked slyly, “Are you a nice girl, Jassy?”

“It’s none of your business,” Jassy flared out, “but I’ll tell you anyhow.”

Her eyes flashing dangerously, she opened her mouth to tell her tormentor that she was indeed a nice girl, but Monty spoke first.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He gave her a crooked grin. “I can see what you are. You’re a scrawny-looking little girl who never brushes her hair or washes her face.”

Monty regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Jassy’s dirty little face had turned bright red with embarrassment. She jumped up and darted away.

“You went too far, this time, friend,” Dylan said disapprovingly.

Monty snorted a laugh that didn’t ring true. “I’m sure she’s heard worse from other men. She will have forgotten about what I said by the time she gets to the schoolhouse.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Dylan said, then, cupping his hands around his mouth, he called, “Jassy, come on back here.”

Jassy’s only response was to dart behind the building toward the kitchen door.

“I hope she’s not crying,” Rachel said.

“You know something, Monty,” Dylan said, “those hateful words you said to Jassy are going to come back some day and slap you in the face. Beneath the dirt and rags she wears is a lot of beauty.”

Monty’s only answer was a snort of disbelief. “She’d be an old woman by the time she scraped the dirt off her face, never mind combed the snarls out of her hair. I’m surprised Granny lets her go around looking like that.”

Dylan made no response to his friend’s disparaging words. He had his own thoughts about the girl. He had a hunch that the old woman deliberately encouraged Jassy to run around looking like a ragamuffin. The men wouldn’t be interested in her if she looked like a dirty little ten-year-old.

But he’d bet his last dollar that more than one man had seen beneath the dirt and ragged clothes and seen the beauty that lay there.

When they heard the back door bang as Jassy took refuge inside the post, Rachel looked at Dylan and said wistfully, “I wish I could go mustanging with you, too.”

“Do you think John Jacob would mind? It would be a dusty, hard trip.”

“I’m not a softy, Dylan. I wouldn’t cause a lot of work for you, and I’m good with horses. Besides I don’t look forward to being alone here with old Andy.”

“I know, honey,” Dylan said. “Andy means well, but he wouldn’t be much protection for you.”

“No, he’s not. He goes to bed right after supper every night, and you don’t see him until the next morning.”

Which is just as well, Dylan thought to himself. She wouldn’t think so highly of the old man if she saw him stumbling around, talking to himself.

“Well, Dylan, what do you think? Can I go with you?”

Dylan wanted to shout his pleased laughter. Rachel had played right into his hands. He avoided Monty’s amused eyes as he said, “I’ll take a chance that John Jacob won’t shoot me for taking you along.”

“That’s settled, then.” Rachel jumped to her feet. “I’m going to go to my room now and help Jassy get ready for the dance.” She turned to Monty with a mischievous grin on her face. “Just wait till you see her in my pink silk dress with a pretty ribbon in her hair. You’re going to eat your words.”