SEVEN

A bark from Max alerted Cassie to the prospect of visitors. She shaded her eyes against the bright sunshine and watched as three riders stopped on the rise. She knew exactly why they stopped. The last thing they expected to see in the middle of cattle country was three hundred sheep. There was no hiding it now. Her secret was out and there was nothing left to do but own up to it.

Manuel was on the opposite side of the sheep pen, which they had hastily erected last fall by weaving tree branches together. Libby, short for Liberty in Cassie’s mind, stood in the middle, seemingly oblivious to the milling of the sheep around her legs. Cassie waved to Manuel to get his attention and pointed at the riders. Manuel nodded and whistled for Max.

Cassie walked toward the visitors, who were moving once again, coming down the drive to meet her. Her short jacket hung on a corral post and she put it on. She checked to make sure the revolver was still in the pocket. She picked up her rifle, which was leaning against the post, and continued on, around the corral where Puck and the two mules pricked their ears with interest toward the approaching riders. Cassie glanced up at the house and saw Rosa had come out. Cassie’s mother sat in a chair on the porch, wrapped in a shawl with her face turned to the sun. Rosa went to her side. Cassie stopped beneath the big oak tree that sat at the foot of the rise to the cabin and waited.

Even though she’d only seen them once, Cassie recognized the lean silhouette of the sheriff and the broader frame of the saloon owner. Which meant the third rider was Jake Reece.

Libby must have recognized who it was at the same instant as Cassie. She brayed long and loud and charged to the side of the pen. Cassie cringed at the sound of snapping wood. Their quick job last fall was enough to hold the sheep, but it wasn’t much against a determined donkey. Libby kicked her way through the loosely woven branches and passed Cassie in her haste to get to the riders. The men pulled up as Libby charged up the road, braying with all her might. She stopped when she got beside the horses and lipped at the boot of the man Cassie had accused of stealing her. At least now she understood why the man had her in his possession. Obviously Libby was in love with him. That knowledge, while humorous, didn’t make the situation any less humiliating.

The sheep discovered the opening in the pen and milled about, adding their questioning baas to Libby’s brays. Max ran to the front of the flock and proceeded to nip at the sheep in his gallant efforts to herd them back into place. The sheep were torn between their devotion to the donkey and the strictness of the dog, and they jumped over each other and turned back and forth until the entire flock was nothing more than a big fluffy mass of confusion that tumbled back and forth until the three riders, the donkey and Cassie were nothing more than sentinels in a sea of wool.

“Well this has turned into a fine day,” Cassie muttered. There was nothing left to do but keep going, although she felt a bit foolish with the rifle in her hand. If the three men wanted to shoot her on sight she’d have to say they were justified.

“Good afternoon, Miss Parker,” Ward called out over the constant baas. “Fine day, isn’t it?” The man seemed to be having a good time. The sheriff looked cautious while Jake looked downright furious. All of the horses stood with their ears laid back at the noise and general confusion. Cassie felt like she was in the middle of a kettle that was fixing to boil.

“I guess that depends on why you came calling,” Cassie yelled back. The situation might be next to impossible but it was still her place and she didn’t recall inviting anyone to drop in. “Why are you here?”

The sheriff took a piece of paper from his pocket and waved it. “Is there someplace we can talk?” he yelled.

Cassie looked up toward the house. Rosa had gotten her mother inside while all the madness was going on. She knew the piece of paper was about her taxes. She could only hope that she had enough money left to pay them. If not, the lot of them would be kicked out of here in a hurry because of the sheep.

“Up at the house,” she said and pointed. The men turned their horses and started for the house. Libby followed. The sheep followed Libby. Max barked and circled in an effort to herd the sheep, the donkey and the riders into the pen. Cassie watched the disaster and wished that the earth would just open up and swallow her. Finally Jake motioned his friends onward. He turned his horse and loosened the rope that hung from his saddle. He quickly and effortlessly looped it around Libby’s neck and led her to where Cassie stood. The sheep followed and Max nipped at their flanks to keep them moving.

Jake handed her the coils of rope and looked down at her with his flinty eyes, while the sheep milled around them. “You have got to be the most gol-durn woman I have ever met,” he said.

Cassie grabbed the rope close to Libby’s neck and pulled her close. She was having a bit of trouble hanging on to the donkey with one hand and the rifle with the other while the sheep jostled her. The presence of the overbearing man on the horse right before her didn’t help much either. Still, she refused to be intimidated.

“Well at least I now know where this donkey learned her manners from,” she said.

What was it about him that set her on edge more than any other man she’d come across? For the most part she ignored men, only dealing with them when it was necessary. She made sure she was free of any unwanted attention by the way she dressed and the threat of her guns, but this one . . . it was the third time she’d met him and it seemed as if his plain purpose for being on this earth was to harass her.

“Are you comparing me to an ass?” he asked incredulously.

“If the ears fit . . .” Cassie smiled sweetly. It was a nice revenge for the way he’d been haunting her dreams lately also.

“At least I’ve got more sense than to bring a bunch of sheep into cattle country.”

“Oh, is it cattle country?” Cassie responded. “I don’t recall seeing any signs. Not once did I see anything that said sheep unwelcome or shepherds keep out.”

“You know good and well that this is cattle country or you wouldn’t have snuck this herd in here last fall without saying a word to anyone.”

“What business is it of yours if I have sheep?” Cassie’s voice raised a pitch at his audacity.

“I’m the man who wrote you the letter telling you your grandfather was dead,” Jake snapped back. “So everyone in the country is going to blame me for you and your gol-durn sheep.”

“You are the one who found him?” Cassie said in surprise. The kind and thoughtful letter didn’t match her imaginings of the man sitting before her.

Jake took off his hat and wiped his gloved hand over his hair. It was light brown in color, thick, and cut short and neat. For some reason, when she’d thought about the man who found her grandfather and written the letter, she’d imagined someone older and kinder. Not someone like Jake Reece, who seemed to be put on this earth just to agitate her.

“I am,” he said. “And if you’d quit waving a gun in my face every time I come close I might tell you about it sometime.”

She really couldn’t argue with that since he was right. She’d met him three times and two of those times he’d see a gun in her hands. Still, it was hard to let go of both the gun and her pride. They were the only things that kept her safe.

The sheep were finally under control again. Manuel and Max had them rounded up and back in the pen. Half a day’s work was wasted as they’d been trying to separate out the pregnant ewes when the men rode up. Cassie led Libby to the corral. She leaned her rifle against the boards, opened the gate and sent Libby trotting inside with a slap on her rump. Cassie lifted the lasso off as the donkey went by and coiled it up. She walked back to where Jacob Reece waited and handed the lasso up to him.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the man who seemed to tower over her from his horse. “I’d like to hear about it, and see where you buried him, if you don’t mind,” Cassie said.

“I’ll show you when the sheriff is done with his business,” he said. Then to her surprise he held a hand out to her. “Want a ride?”

Cassie was taken aback by the offer. His eyes on her were steady yet cautious. The thought of climbing up behind him, of being that close to him . . . not just him but any man. She couldn’t show her fear.

“No thanks, I’ll walk,” she said.

“Suit yourself.” If she hadn’t been standing so close she wouldn’t have seen the slight twitch of his knees that told his horse to move. The horse jumped forward at a trot and flicked its tail right in her face. Jacob Reece rode up to her house without a backward glance.