Deborah Camp (23 page)

“Now what are you doing?” Cassie asked.

“Showing her who’s boss. Horses have a pecking order, same as most animals. They travel together, like dogs, and migrating animals generally have leaders and followers. I’m making her see that I’m a leader and she’s going to have to follow me.”

Cassie shook her head. It was mumbo jumbo to her, but he’d saddle-tamed two horses with this same nonsense.

He pivoted toward the mare again and strode forward in a straight line. Reaching out, he grabbed a handful of mane and leaned into the horse, whispering in her ear. She twitched but didn’t pull away. He let go of her, waved a hand, and she scampered toward the corner. He whistled. She stopped, looked at him, waited for him to join her again.

For the next half-hour Cassie observed the strange interplay. Whether he cared to admit it or not, Drew had a way with most animals, not just horses. Although he often told her that he wasn’t interested in cattle, he had a vast knowledge of the bovine. He worried about them as much as she did. He was a cattleman, no matter what he said.

Who was trying to get him thrown back into prison or worse, killed? Who did he threaten? Who despised him? She knew so little about his life before he’d been imprisoned. Maybe she should ask around, starting with Gabe and T-Bone, both of whom had known Drew but had given her scant information about him.

Drew slipped the bridle over the mare’s ears. Cassie sat forward, amazement flowering in her. He’d done it
again. Somehow he had gained the horse’s trust. The gray mare was now under his command.

Cassie smiled to herself, struck by the irony. She should understand this “nonsense” better than she did. After all, the man had gained her trust fairly quickly.

Drew led the mare around the corral, stopping, starting up again, then stopping. The horse obeyed, seemingly happy to do so.

Cassie wiped her sweaty palms on her leather skirt and laughed nervously. The man had magic in him. Pure, old-fashioned magic.

The crunch of wheels on pebbles broke through her reverie, and she looked over her shoulder to see a buggy she instantly recognized. She groaned.

“Who’s that?” Drew asked.

“Viola Danforth,” Cassie answered, giving him a sour smile. “The woman is nothing if not persistent.” She dropped to the ground and brushed dust from her blouse and leather skirt.

“Hello, Viola,” Cassie called, shading her eyes with one hand. “Did you bring some more food?”

Malice flickered momentarily in Viola’s green eyes, then she smiled stiffly and displayed a big basket. “Yes, I did. I see that Mr. Dalton is here today. Don’t let me keep you from your chores, Cassie.”

For a moment Cassie was sorely tempted to remain steadfastly at Viola’s side and spoil her plans to be alone with Drew, but then her childish jealousy would be on display not only for Viola, but also for Drew to see. She had no rights to him and certainly no right to be possessive of him.

But I am
, she thought, angry with herself.
I’m pea
green with jealousy and I wish I could order Viola off this land!

“Drew!” she called, waving him over. “Viola Danforth has brought you some dinner! Leave that mare and be neighborly, why don’t you.”

Not waiting for him to join them, Cassie started for the house. “Y’all can eat out on the porch, if you want.”

“That would be perfect,” Viola said, almost purring. “Thank you, Cassie.

Slamming into the house, Cassie exchanged a speaking glance with Oleta. She removed her gloves and hat and tossed them into a chair.

“She bring more food?” Oleta asked.

“Why, certainly,” Cassie answered, not bothering to hide her irritation. “She figures we serve hog slop here, so Drew will swoon when he gets a taste of her vittles and he’ll marry her to keep his stomach full.”

“We do not serve hog slop,” Oleta said, frowning. “He eats good. Everyone eats good here.”

Cassie looked out the window. Drew and Viola were standing by her buggy, and Drew was looking into the basket Viola held out for his inspection.

“The woman is shameless,” Cassie groused. “She’s batting her lashes so much it’s a wonder she isn’t creating a whirlwind out there.”

“I saw her making eyes at him at the barn dance.”

“You did?” Cassie asked, looking over her shoulder at Oleta.

“Sí
. She could not take her eyes off him, and she asked everyone who he was and what they knew about him.”

“That he was in prison didn’t seem to bother her.”

“Oh, no. She was so … so
simpática
. She said it was
a shame that he had been locked up and he did nothing wrong.”

“Here they come.” Cassie moved away from the window and spun toward the table. She grabbed up her gloves and hat, then put them back down, flustered and agitated. “I hate this. I’m the one who is shameless, acting like a ninny.”

The squeak of boards on the front porch sent her gaze back to the window. Viola and Drew sat on the porch steps, and Viola spread out a checkered tablecloth. She was jabbering like a magpie, and Drew was smiling politely. He glanced toward the window, and Cassie darted back, but she thought he’d seen her spying on them.

Andy spoke in his baby gabble, and Cassie picked him up from the floor and sat in the rocker. She let him breastfeed while she rocked furiously and tried not to hear the occasional fit of laughter from Viola or the rumble of Drew’s voice. Closing her eyes, she silently recited every rhyme and psalm she knew and then tried to recall bits of song lyrics. But part of her mind never relinquished the picture of Viola and Drew sharing a meal out on the porch. What did Drew think of the woman? Did he find her attractive?

Oleta busied herself with preparations for supper. She kneaded dough and peeled potatoes and onions.

“They are sitting in the swing now,” Oleta whispered.

Cassie opened her eyes, then shut them again when she caught a glimpse of the two on the porch swing. Thank heavens, they weren’t sitting close, leaving a discreet wedge of space between them. Cassie lifted one eyelid for a brief look and was relieved to see that Drew hadn’t even rested an arm across the back of the swing.
Good. He should keep his hands to himself!

Andy fell asleep and Cassie buttoned her blouse, but she sat woodenly in the chair and rocked. She wanted Viola gone before she ventured outside again and faced Drew. When she heard the buggy pulling away, she released a long sigh and stood up.

“She stayed long enough,” she said to Oleta as she carried Andy into the bedroom and placed him in his crib.

“Only a little over an hour,” Oleta said.

An hour? Cassie glanced at the clock on the mantel, surprised that Oleta was right. It had seemed longer than that. A couple of hours at least.

Drew strode in, Viola’s basket swinging from his fingers. He set it on the table.

“Did she forget that?” Oleta asked.

“No. We couldn’t eat all of it, so she left it. Chicken and biscuits, freshly churned butter, and a jar of pear honey we didn’t even open. We can have it for supper if you want.”

“I don’t want it,” Cassie said, glancing disdainfully at the basket. “We’ve had her chicken and I don’t care for any more.”

“I thought it was tasty.”

“Did you?” Cassie speared him with a pointed glare. “Then
you
eat it. Oleta has already started on supper, haven’t you?”

“Sí
, but I can—”

“So we don’t need
her
leftovers,” Cassie cut in.

Drew shrugged. “Fine.” He withdrew the jar of golden pear honey and placed it on the table. “I’ll take the rest of this out to the bunkhouse for the men. I know they’ll enjoy it.”

“You do that,” Cassie sassed, then shoved past him out the door. She was in the sun before she realized she’d left without her hat and gloves. Grimly she turned to retrace her steps, only to find Drew approaching her. He was grinning, holding Viola’s basket in one hand and her own hat and gloves in the other.

“Here you go,” he said, extending them to her.

“Thanks.” She snatched them from him.

“Don’t mention it.” He strode past her. “It would be a damn shame to toughen up those pretty hands of yours or blister that nose you aim at the sky like you’re the cattle queen.”

She felt her mouth drop open as she turned to stare at his back. “You’ve got me confused with another widow!”

Laughing, he shook his head and kept going, swinging the basket like it was a young lady’s hand.

Cassie slammed her boot into the dirt in a fit of aggravation. Suddenly, she became aware of her stance—hands on hips, feet planted apart, nose in the air. She snapped her chin down and wedged her hat onto her head.

Cattle queen! She hoped Viola’s chicken gave him a stomachache!

Ice was sitting up in bed playing solitaire when Drew entered the bunkhouse, Viola’s basket in hand.

“Hey, there!” Ice grinned. “I see the sun’s out. I thought you’d be up to your armpits in mud and steers.”

“I will be by sundown.” Drew pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, placing the basket within Ice’s reach. “A widow lady brought this by. Thought you and the boys might enjoy it.”

Ice lifted the napkin and sniffed. “Fried chicken?”

Drew nodded. “And it’s tasty.”

“Widow woman?” Ice selected a thigh and sank his white teeth into it.needed the money, because. “She tasty, too?”

Drew chuckled. “I wouldn’t know, partner, but she’s easy on the eyes.”

“Yeah? Who is she?”

“Her name’s Viola. She spotted me at the barn dance and decided to be neighborly.”

Ice snickered. “Ain’t that sweet. I bet Cassie blew smoke out her stack, eh?”

Drew ran a hand around the back of his neck and laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, she—” A thorny thought pricked his jovial mood. “Why’d you ask that?”

Ice waved the half-eaten thigh in the air. “Don’t keep riding that horse,
amigo
. It’s me. Ice. You can talk man to man with me, eh? I know that you get hard when you look on that woman. I
know
this, so talk from your heart with me,
por favor
.”

Drew glared at the other man for a few moments before conceding the point and dropping his guard. “I think she was jealous.”

Ice chuckled. “Good.”

“Not good,” Drew said, shaking his head. “She’s too fine for the likes of me.”

“You will hurt this woman—on purpose?”

“I don’t want to hurt her. That’s why I want her to find someone else.”

“Hendrix.”

“No.” His heart hardened. “Not Roe. He’s too old for her, and I’m not so sure he’s not after her just to add this ranch to his. That would make him a mighty
important fella in these parts.” He tipped the chair back on two legs. “Before his old man died, the Star H was twice its size, but Monroe Hendrix always cared too much about strutting his stuff and too little about the condition of his cattle.”

“He sold off some of his land?”

“Yes, to the north. He sold a third of it, then he sold off another third a few years later. He said he wanted to, but everyone knew that wasn’t the truth. The truth was he needed the money, because his cattle had brought in low prices for three years straight. They were scrawny and sickly. They’re better now, but it will take another ten years before he builds them up to where they’ll take top prices at market. T-Bone told me that Monroe lost fifty head last year when he gave them some bad feed.”

Ice whistled and dug around in the basket for another thigh. “Fifty head! So he would like to marry this ranch, you think?”

“And he’d like to bed Cassie. Anybody can see that.”

“Who can blame him?”

“Yeah, who can blame him?” Drew let the chair tip forward, setting the front legs on the floor again. “But he’s not right for Cassie.”

“Does she know the bullet was meant for you, not me?”

The question jolted Drew, but he recovered quickly. “That’s how you figure it?”

“I thought maybe someone was hunting and mistook us for deer or bears, but we were making too much noise. No, I think someone was aiming for
your
back and didn’t know until it was too late that I was wearing your fancy vest.”

Drew sighed. “Yes, that’s how I see it, too, but I told
Cassie different. I told her I thought it was a mistake.”

“You think it has to do with this cattle stealing?”

“I think I’d be a fool if I didn’t.”

Ice wiped his hands and mouth on the napkin covering the basket.
“Sí
, we must both be careful to watch your back from now on. You have any names for me? Quentin, maybe?”

“I don’t think so, but maybe. It’s keeping me up nights, that’s for sure. I can’t turn my mind off. Why me? Why is someone trying to get me thrown back into prison, Ice? Is it the same son of a bitch who put me in there before? I tell you, I don’t know. I had plenty of time to think about it when I was locked up, and I never did figure it out.”

“It’s not drifters, not someone who is working this area and then will move on,” Ice said.

“No. That’s what I thought before, but not this time. This time there’s no doubt that it’s personal.”

“I asked around,
amigo
, and you are not a popular
hombre
here among your home folks.”

“They believe I’m a cattle thief.”

“They think you must have bought your way out of prison. With cattle missing again, this will not be good for you, my friend. If enough people start talking about you, the law will come here.”

“They’ve already been here. Cassie said the sheriff came by while we were taking the cattle back to Quentin.”

“So it has already begun.”

“That’s right.” Drew looked at Ice solemnly, but he saw a mischievous light lurking in the man’s silver eyes. Although their subject was grave, Drew couldn’t help
but catch the man’s mood and grin. “I’m a lot of trouble.”

“Sí,”
Ice agreed readily, then laughed. “And you are wasting the day in here. Take yourself outside and get some honest work done.”

Drew stood and set the chair back by the potbellied stove. “Yes, boss. Anything else?” he asked, moving to the door and flinging it open.

“
Sí
, tell your other boss that I like her fried chicken better than this cooked by Violin!”