Chapter 17

 

How was Maggie supposed to sleep when she was so close to Garret’s body? His warmth radiated onto her. His soft, slow breathing told her he slept with no trouble, while she, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep if her life depended on it. He’d decided, for reasons unknown to her, to put his bedroll behind hers and had proceeded to fall asleep undisturbed. Right beside her.

If she scooted back even closer to him, would he notice? Couldn’t hurt to try.

The instant she began to relocate her bedroll, she was startled to find him looking at her through one slitted blue eye, wearing an amused expression.

He chuckled at her. “Go to sleep, Maggie.”

“Harrump,” she grunted, and plopped down on her unmoved bedroll. It would have to be close enough.

When the first blue-gray streaks of morning lay across the sky, Maggie stretched the stiffness from her back. She huddled into her sleeping bag to regain some of the warmth she had lost sitting against an old cottonwood tree. While Garret slept on, she was riveted by a jagged scar across his neck. How had she not noticed it before? Sure, it was faint, and silvered with age, but at one time had been a significant injury and seemed obvious in the dim morning light. Possibly she hadn’t paid proper attention to his neck because his eyes so often had her enraptured.

Something alerted her that Garret had slipped from the depths of sleep into the subtle shift of wakefulness. Perhaps the slight variance in the cadence of his breathing, or perhaps, the small piece of her soul which seemed determined to tether itself to his had told her of the change.

“Where did you get the scar on your neck?” she asked.

She knew he’d heard her. He was just putting off waking the last bit of the way.

His bleary blue gaze focused on her, and he jerked his head back an inch. He cleared his throat and sat up. “It’s not a story with a happy ending. Where’s Burke? Why didn’t he wake me?”

More than a little proud, she explained, “Lenny spelled him, and then I took a turn. You were up most of the night before and you needed rest. Where did you get the scar?” she repeated, undeterred.

Garret rubbed his face, ran his hands through his hair and shook it out. “My old man hit the bottle too hard one night. Tried to slit my throat.” He looked at her with his eyebrows raised, as if daring her to ask more questions she likely wouldn’t appreciate the answers to. “Thankfully, my pa was too drunk to get it done right.”

He’d said it off the cuff, so detached from such a horrid story that had no business coming from a man’s mouth and ringing true.

He’d been a child who’d lost his mother and the remaining parent, the one supposed to protect him, had tried to kill him. Bile rose in the back of her throat at the horror, and she swallowed down the queasiness. “Your story had a happy ending to me,” she said quietly.

Garret regarded her, those cerulean eyes piercing to her very being as his expression turned questioning. “And how’s that?”

“You’re still here. When did he do it?”

Garret scanned the dim clearing as if he wished he were anywhere but there. “The season you and your ma left Rockdale.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No use apologizing. It ain’t your fault.”

“No, of course it isn’t, but I’m sorry no one was there for you.” She closed the short distance between them and hugged him around his neck.

He sat frozen and stiff, but she couldn’t seem to pull her arms from his shoulders. The scruff on his unshaven face felt right against her cheek. He relaxed and put his arms hesitantly around her waist. She wanted to cry for what he had been through, but it wasn’t his way, so she put her sorrow into holding him. Garret let out his breath and murmured, “It’s all right now, woman. I don’t even think on it anymore.”

Lenny and Burke watched them from a distance, but at a glance from her, took off into the woods. Maggie let Garret go, not pausing to talk or give him even a moment to panic and say something horrid to her, as he so often did after she showed any emotion. She simply stood, rolled the blankets, and avoided his gaze at all costs.

Garret rolled his blankets, and when finished, took hers and tied them to the saddles still cinched on Buck and Rooney. After a quick breakfast of stale biscuits and dried venison, the four of them headed out to finish the last few miles to Whitfield’s ranch.

“Need to talk to you,” Garret said as they pulled the horses up at the boundary of old Whitfield’s land.

His serious tone brokered dread, but with a straightened spine, she reined Buck closer to Rooney and waited.

“This money I’m using to buy these cattle? It’s the money we got from driving Roy’s herd, and therefore I was thinking it was rightfully yours. Figured I should ask what you wanted to do with it before I spend it.”

“Buy the cattle, of course. Anything I can do to help us keep the ranch, I’ll do, but can I say something?”

He nodded.

“Why don’t we drive the cattle straight to town, sell them at a profit and be done with Whitfield’s brand?

“But what about the breeding stock for next year?”

“We can put the money aside to help pay the loan to the Jenningses, but I fear the longer we have these cattle, the more time Wyatt will have to steal them back. I have a bad feeling about keeping this herd.”

Grunting, he nodded. “We’d easily triple our money if we drive them into town right now, as cheap as Whitfield is selling them to us. And it wouldn’t hurt to have them gone before the Jenningses find some loophole to get ’em back. I’ll talk to Burke and we’ll see about driving them that-a-way tomorrow.”

They rode through the brush that lined a small clearing, and Whitfield’s modest cabin peeked through a pair of cottonwood trees. The wind caressed a splintered rocking chair on the small porch and milling cattle dotted the yard. It was clear Whitfield had made a one-man effort to bring the herd together in preparation for driving them. Cows were spread far and wide, but at least they wouldn’t have to go riding all over creation in search of them.

Garret instructed Burke and Lenny to start rounding up the stragglers and motioned for Maggie to join him. Whitfield was a hunched, gray haired man who came out onto the front porch with his arms full when Garret and Maggie neared. He was packing, and in a hurry.

“Don’t want to be here when the Jenningses figure out they weren’t careful enough with the paperwork,” Whitfield offered with a mischievous grin.

“Right,” Garret said with a chuckle. “We’ll make this quick then.”

He tossed Whitfield a leather bag of money and waited while the man counted it.

Whitfield grunted in approval. “That’ll do it. This money will get me out of town and into the city where I have relatives waiting. Plan to get onto the train by the end of the day.”

“Probably a good idea,” Garret replied. “Don’t reckon anybody’s tried to stand up to the Jenningses before today. We’ll probably drive the herd straight into town ourselves, and get out of the Jennings way.”

“Probably best. I’d drive them myself, if I had the manpower. They’ll fetch a good price.” Whitfield squinted at the position of the sun. “Listen, I got a horse. A real fair filly, and I can’t take her with me where I’m going. Would you mind picking her up in town and taking her back to the Lazy S? She’s draft and Friesian, a real big girl. She’s great for hard work, and her foals will catch a price. I’d be much obliged. I can’t part with her, thinking she is going to Jennings’s breeding stock.”

“I’ve seen the horse you’re talking about. She’s a beauty. We’ll take her, if it’s what you want. Give them my name at the stable and we’ll get her after we sell the cattle.”

He tipped the brim of his hat. “I’ll see you when I see you,” Whitfield said, and went back to loading his small wagon.

It took an hour to gather the milling cattle before they were off at a grueling, slow pace. Getting such a large herd moving in the intended direction while keeping the headstrong ones from escaping into the brush took alertness to the cattle’s ornery ways, hard riding and lots of yelling. As the other three were seasoned at driving, often she had to go after the numbers intent on splitting from the bulk of the group. Tumultuous motion, like she was a chicken with her head cut off. There was no pattern or organization. Driving, for her, was chaos.

They avoided the main road in hopes of avoiding attention, so the cattle had to be pushed through areas of thick brush. Every muscle was strained as if she had been driving for days by the time they stopped for a bite to eat.

The cattle milled about, exhausted from traveling, and grazed hungrily on knee high prairie grass. With Garret’s portion of dried venison in hand, she wove through the mass of irritable beasts on Buck, careful to avoid the bulls with the biggest horns, until finally she reached him near the middle of the herd. It would have to be a lunch in the saddle if they wanted to get to town by dark.

Garret leaned across the saddle horn and took the small meal from her outstretched hand. “We aren’t going to break camp until late today.”

Already tearing into the jerky, she nodded. A small flash of gray through two large patches of brush caught her attention, and she jerked her head and squinted in the direction she had seen it. Nothing moved besides the cattle that had wandered that far. She shook her head and took another bite.

“What?” Garret asked, watching her.

“Nothing. I thought I saw something but nothing’s there.”

“Cow?”

“No, something gray.”

Garret perked up and pulled his pistol out just as the cattle in that area bellowed full force and began to run. The effect of a few frenzied cattle was disastrous.

“Heyeyeyeyey!” he yelled, trying to slow the beasts barreling toward them.

Rooney and Buck danced, ready for a command which would take them to safety.

“Get out of here, Maggie. Head for the edge and stay out of their way. Go!” Garret yelled over the noise of the stampede.

Sound advice. Garret had given her sound advice.

If it had only been that easy, she would have rejoiced. Instead, caught in the middle of a large herd of frantic cattle caused Buck to get stuck running in the midst of a large number of bulls, as big as himself and horned. Forced to stay with the stampede, she tried to maneuver to her right whenever a hole presented itself. The beasts’s eyes rolled in fear as they ran into each other, bellowing.

A bull hit Buck hard, pinning her leg. Screaming, she barely heard Buck’s whinnied echo of pain. She couldn’t give him room because more cattle were flanking them on the other side.

Garret had managed to make it to the edge right away, and Maggie turned in her saddle.

Smoke shot into the air as he fired his pistol at a coyote that had latched onto a calf’s nose. Terrified, she turned to find a slight hole had opened up. Buck jerked to the side, and she yelled at the cattle as she zigzagged through them. Lenny and Burke rode to control the other side, becoming a blur as she tried, failed, and tried again to escape the chaos. Lather bathed Buck’s sweaty neck where the reins touched him, and he panted loudly as she asked him for more.

As she neared the edge, Garret raced past her and yelled, “Hold this side. I’m gonna try and head ’em off!”

Rooney nearly flew under Garret’s able command as he pulled him closer, toward the frenzied front line. Horse and rider cut in deeply, pushing against the furthermost cattle, creating a bottleneck. On the other side, Burke made room for the beasts to veer toward him. Garret led the cattle in a wide arch, and at last they slowed. When they had eased up enough, he, Burke and Lenny pulled in front of the group pushed against the grain until the confused cattle stopped.

Rope in hand, Garret rode toward her. She opened her mouth to speak but he hadn’t come back to talk to her. He scoured the herd, searching for something, and when he spotted his quarry, made the loop in his rope bigger. Deftly, he lassoed a half-grown black calf that had straggled behind the group. He led it off into the brush.

She gasped and kicked Buck in their direction.

“Garret Shaw,” she said as she pulled alongside him. “What are you doing with that baby?”

With a sigh, he loosed the rope from its neck. “I’m gonna shoot it, Maggie. Best you not watch.”

She looked in horror at the calf. Tiny flecks of blood came from its nose where the coyote had latched on. She lurched forward and halted Buck in front of the calf.

Garret withdrew his pistol and set a thunderous glare on her. “Move. You know better than to step in front of somebody with a loaded pistol.”

“He isn’t hurt so bad. Maybe he’ll live.”

“Maggie,” he said. “He might live, but he’ll suffer and be as sick as that coyote in a few days. It ain’t natural for them to come out so boldly. They’re scared of us. More scavenger than hunter, and that dog was foamin’ at the mouth and half crazed.” He watched her with sympathy. “This is part of life out here. You have to take the bad with the good. If you don’t want me to put it down, I won’t. But it’ll suffer.”

She needed a moment to think. The calf panted under the strain of an injured nose. Its head drooped like it knew its fate. She squeezed her eyes shut and backed Buck out of the way, kicked him and got as far away as she could before the gunshot sounded.

The stampede had cost them time, thrown them off course. The only break she took from the saddle was to relieve herself in the brush, and her legs complained about the strain of prolonged time melded around Buck’s swaybacked form. Garret’s anticipated announcement that it was time to break camp couldn’t come soon enough.

Her husband, however, seemed relentless in his work and they drove until the light waned and the town loomed ahead. Surely they’d taken the cattle over the allotted fifteen miles, but he seemed indifferent to their weight loss at the moment. He was a smart rancher, and a capable drover. His disregard for his normal driving procedures meant he was more worried about the Jenningses than he let on.

“You look exhausted,” Garret said over the noise of the cattle as he pulled up beside her.

“Thanks,” she replied.

“Why don’t you go fetch us a couple of rooms. Lenny and Burke can help me bring the cattle into the chutes. I’ll stay in Burke’s room tonight, and you girls can have the other.”

She glared at him.

Garret gave a stern shake of his head. “It ain’t like that. I’m not avoiding you. I just don’t want Burke and Lenny sharing a room.”

“Fine,” she snapped. Buck deserved some fresh straw and a clean stall after the day they’d had, but she hesitated. The hotel room beckoned her.

“Leave him in front. I’ll take him to the stable after we’re done.”

Maggie tried to smile her gratitude through the exhaustion. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and Maggie,” Garret said as she turned Buck toward the inn. “You did real good today.”

And that was all it took for the warmth of a hard earned compliment to wash over her and change her temperament. Grinning, he rode back to finish their work. She sighed happily and went to reserve the rooms. That boy could be mean as sin, and one kind word would send her into an improved mood. She should be worried about that, but couldn’t quite find it in herself to pick at his imperfections.

By the time she opened the door to her room, her stomach gurgled with hunger. Covered in travel dust, she plodded around a small chest of drawers to the washbasin against the back wall. Her clumsy fingers flubbed lighting the lantern the first two times, but the third sent flickering light through the tiny room. The mauve and tan floral wallpaper clashed with the green baseboards and there was a suspicious hole in the wall that looked like she wasn’t the only creature dwelling there, but it could be worse. The water was clear as she poured it from the full pitcher and the bed looked clean enough. She’d spent two days on the trail and could barely keep her eyes open. A milkweed mattress in a swamp would be acceptable about now.

She washed and decided to try and stay awake to have dinner with the others. She failed. By the time Lenny stepped into their room, Maggie had been asleep on the end of the still-made bed for a good while. Rejuvenated after the small nap, she descended with Lenny to the main level to meet Burke and Garret.

He’d charmed the cook, who served them leftover meat pie and cornbread, though the milk and dessert had long been consumed by those conscientious of normal dining hours. She didn’t care, and from the silence at dinner, it was a safe bet no one else noticed the absence either.

After she’d finished, Garret rose beside her and took her plate to refill it. Though hard pressed to eat another bite with her dress so fitted, she found room. When she could eat no more, she pushed her unfinished plate in his direction and he made swift work of her leftovers.

He ate with single mindedness and was, thankfully, seemingly too tired to notice any attention from her. Even dusty from a long day of work and flushed with the prolonged effort of his endeavors, he was a man not easily ignored. As if he’d read her thoughts, he surprised her with a smile. She looked away quickly, flustered at having been caught staring.

Garret wrapped his warm, strong hand around hers under the table. “I don’t mind you looking, Maggie.”

Blast her fair skin. Her face flushed with an uncomfortable heat. Thank the Lord, Lenny and Burke had excused themselves to their rooms earlier. Witnesses would have made the situation even worse.

Maggie cleared her throat. “Umm, well then, I should be off to bed. I’m quite drained from the exciting day, and you never know what adventures tomorrow will bring,” she rambled, barely resisting the urge to stifle an affected yawn. Simplicity was best when one was a terrible pretender.

Smiling, he let her excuse herself and return to her room. She turned once to offer a good night, and he was still watching her leave. It brought new warmth to her cheeks. She climbed the stairs and tiptoed into the silent room. Lenny was already passed out cold on one side of the bed but had left the lantern lit.

As quietly as she could, she slipped out of her dress and sponged her skin with clean water until she at least resembled a human again. Was Garret readying for bed too? His room lay just on the other side of the wall.

She pressed her hand against the cool wallpaper. Only feet from him, yet he felt miles away. She ran the sponge down her arm and imagined his gentle touch at dinner. He’d warmed to her over time, and even if it wouldn’t ever be love for him, he still cared on some level. His hardened exterior cracked every time he rewarded her with touch or kind word. With every smile he bestowed upon her, his facade of indifferent arrogance slipped a little further into oblivion.

Even her exhaustion couldn’t disguise that the bed proved lumpy, and pungent with the aroma of unwashed linens. It was also likely infected with some sort of critter intent on feeding on her flesh. Upon waking, rows of raised, red, itchy blotches covered her fragile skin. One glance at Lenny, well-rested with her clear olive toned skin, proved her friend hadn’t been so affected.

The comparison, on top of a hundred others, added fuel to the ongoing argument with herself that she really wasn’t made for such a life. Her stubbornness alone kept her steady and happy in such an unyielding place.

It was early, before dawn, and Lenny had woken her while mousing around, readying herself for the day.

“Why are you up so early?” Maggie whispered.

Lenny eyed the door and sat on the other side of the bed. “Boss doesn’t want us in town when the Jenningses find out about the cattle. He wants us home, and I’m inclined to agree.”

“Oh. Right,” she said. She rose and got ready by candlelight. After she finished dressing and Lenny had braided her hair, she pinned it in a bun.

Though it would be a crude one, she looked forward to a warm bath at home. Home. She smiled at the thought.

Garret and Burke retrieved and saddled the horses and brought them around to the front of the inn. Whitfield’s horse was a magnificent creature. She was a gargantuan black with feathering from knees to hooves. The mare looked as if she belonged in some fairy tale from long ago. Her size was intimidating, but a few minutes with the mare proved she was a docile horse with a kind disposition. Buck seemed smitten with her, much to Rooney’s irritation, and Lenny’s mare acted completely unaffected by the new addition to the Lazy S stables.

The ride to the ranch was a quiet one. Breakfast had been skipped in their haste to get home, and by the time they rode onto Shaw land, her stomach was convinced her throat had been slit. Fried eggs, stale bread and slivers of cheese had to suffice because none of the group was willing to spend too much time cooking before feeding famished appetites. Wells and Cookie were out hauling hay to the remaining cattle, and Burke joined them shortly after he’d finished breakfast. Lenny headed to the barn to start work on the chores, leaving Garret and Maggie in the house.

“Come here. I want to show you somethin’,” Garret said, and took his final swig of aromatic coffee.

He led her into her bedroom, and with strength and ease of practice, moved the bed aside and pried up a couple of loose nails. She would have never noticed the board was any different than the others, but he seemed to know exactly which it was by memory.

The board clanked quietly when he set it aside, and he pulled out a large, bulging coin purse.

“This is our savings. The Jenningses won’t take a payment on their loan unless it is in full, so I’ve been putting money away. This is what we have so far.” He handed her the leather pouch.

“It looks like a substantial amount of money, Garret. Why haven’t you put it in the bank?”

“Jennings has eyes in the bank, and I don’t want him knowing how close to or far away we are from paying him off.”

“How have you saved so much, if you’ve just finished with your schooling? Won’t you have to make payments in Georgetown?”

“I had a benefactor. Decided to take pity on me and pay for me to get the schooling I wanted. Even gave me money each month for living, but I stayed below my means and saved as much as I could. I got lucky.”

“I’d say.” Maggie handed him the purse and he put the new funds they had garnished from the sale of Whitfield’s cattle in it. “Well, isn’t it just a kick in the pants. We’re going to pay part of Jennings’s loan with money he so wrongly thought was already his.” She giggled at the mischievous look on Garret’s face.

A somber expression took him, and he paused, studying her. “Maggie, the night Wyatt came and took you? I wanted to kill him. I still want to, when I think about it. From the second you screamed my name, trying to get away from him, it sent something boiling in my gut I can’t seem to get away from. But I know the law and we ain’t got any proof, save our word against his. And dammit, he has some powerful allies. Sherriff knows what’s going on, but his hands are tied too. And I’d be no good to you or anyone else depending on the Lazy S with a noose around my neck. I can’t get revenge like that.” Garret put the purse back and slid the board into place. “We’ll need to get our revenge by outsmarting them and by paying Jennings off. Our revenge will be keeping the ranch, despite their best efforts to take it from us.”

She nodded. She’d never expected Garret to kill for her, but his anger at her being touched by that snake made her feel satisfied in ways she couldn’t explain.

No, she most certainly didn’t expect him to kill for her, but if push came to shove, he would.