Grace be a Lady (Love & War in Johnson County Book 1) (8 page)

“Luckily,
this is a small herd.” Thad raised his arm and swished a quirt back and forth,
gently urging the herd onward. His horse ambled forward at an easy pace as the
cattle lowed and grunted and meandered through the short, dry grass. Beside
him, Greg shifted in the saddle and scanned the rolling, open horizon.

Thad
saw something in the kid’s face he couldn’t peg, maybe because every time he
looked at him now, he saw
her
face. Regardless, the kid was sweating
bullets. Thad needed to try to convince him to relax, for both their sakes. The
last thing he needed was a jittery greenhorn on his hands. Even a hundred head
could stampede, and he was never going to let that happen again.

Trying
to reassure Greg, he motioned at the dip in the hills before them. “They know
where to go, and we can usually get ’em there in a couple of hours.” Another
few minutes and they would smell the water.

God,
please let the creek be down.

The
golden sunshine and well-munched grass quivering in the November breeze
reminded him of the recent rains. He sneaked another peek at the rawboned boy
next to him. High water would mean a cold, miserable crossing. “We have to get
over the Crazy Woman with them. You good with that?” he asked tentatively.

Greg
hunched his shoulders. “Is it deep?”

“No,
but it’s gonna be cold. And I can see where it’d be a little scary to a city
kid.”

Greg
opened his mouth, as if to argue, but then clamped his lips shut.

“Hey,
I don’t mean anything by it,” Thad ducked his head in apology. “I’ve lived out
here my whole life, been in the saddle since I was two, but it’s easy to make
mistakes. Shoot, I lost a herd a few years ago.”

Greg’s
brow wrinkled. “What do you mean
lost
?”

Thad
rubbed his neck, wishing he hadn’t mentioned the disaster, one he was still
trying to get his father to forgive . . . and forget. “Lost
control.” He hated the icy nausea that accompanied the memory. “They stampeded.
The herd was blind with panic, but I thought we could turn ’em.” He shook his
head, his soul full of regret. “They roared over the crew like an avalanche.”

“Oh.”
Greg went back to the herd, eyeing it suspiciously, as if it might explode into
a stampede any second. “They killed some of your men?”

“Three.”
Three funerals. Three widows. Thad resituated his hat and wished he could undo
the day just as easily. Get those men back. Get his father’s trust back. Maybe
when he did, Pa would let Trampas go.

“That’s
awful. But I’m pretty fast when I have to be.”

Thad
appreciated the attempt to lighten his mood. “And when
I’m
done with you,
you’ll be a cowboy fit for any of the best outfits.”

Greg
muttered something under his breath that sounded to Thad like
that’s what
you think.
“What?”

“Um,
I said, I need a drink.” The kid reached for the canteen hanging on the saddle.

“I
guess I’ll have to teach you to throw a lasso, too, huh?”

Greg
swallowed his sip. “I’m not really a city kid. I grew up on a farm, but there
wasn’t much of a need for lassoing pigs and turkeys.” He wiped a slender hand
across his mouth and studied Thad, not attempting to hide his suspicion. “Why
are you so bent on helping me? Just to get to my sister?”

Thad
moved his horse right with a simple tug on the reins, and brought a straying
cow back into the herd. “I’ve known Raney my whole life,” he said over his
shoulder. “She was best friends with my ma. She was there for us when Ma
contracted a fever and passed. We were there for her when her husband was murdered.”
He swished the quirt a few more times at the heifer then reined in again beside
Greg. “I owe her. She’s had some hard times and worthless help since Jake died.
But you,” he tsked, “I’ve got a feeling you might work out. Your sister is a
bonus, I hope.”

“I
told ya she’s married. Do you not understand the meaning of the word?”

“Women
can get divorced when they’re in bad situations. If the two of you are out
here, it must be pretty bad.”

The
kid’s mouth fell open, apparently in shock, but then he shifted his gaze back
out over the living river of animals. “You don’t know anything about . . .
things.”

“So,
tell me.” Greg dropped his gaze to his saddle horn. Thad reached out and firmly
lifted the boy’s chin. “You’re on the back of a horse in the middle of a herd
of cows. Do your thinkin’, but never take your mind off business. I should
know.” Greg accepted the advice with a subtle, humble nod.

Thad
withdrew his hand, but, for the sweep of an instant, recalled with perfect
clarity, eyes as green as Oriental jade, silky, strawberry hair touched with
honey, and a pretty, pert nose. The resemblance between brother and sister was
downright spooky. Probably not something a young boy wanted to hear. Except for
the short, scraggly hair, bony frame, and floppy hat, he was the mirror image of
Grace.

He
scolded himself for forgetting his own advice, and went back to the job at
hand.

“Is
that how it happened?” Greg asked gently. “You took your mind off your
business?”

Thad
exhaled and searched the grassy plains in front of them. Watching the herd
should be second nature, and yet, he found himself fighting a distraction. He
couldn’t afford that.

“I
thought we were gonna talk about you.” Silence met his comment, and he knew
Greg was waiting. Thad fought the urge to talk, but something about this kid
pulled it out of him. “My brother Nick and I had a fight. Over nothin’ really.
I was mad at him for coming home half-drunk. I accused him of letting me do all
the work while he chased skirts.” It seemed like such a stupid complaint now,
certainly nothing to forfeit lives over. Thad resituated his hat again and
chided himself for the nervous habit. “Anyhow, I was busy counting the ways I
was going to murder Nick when the storm hit. I never even noticed till the wind
changed. Then the lightning struck, and all hell broke loose.”

“I
don’t know much about cattle, but don’t stampedes happen? What were you
supposed to do?”

“I
sent three men out to turn the herd. We all should’ve gone. I don’t know what I
was thinking.” For the millionth time, Thad second-guessed the decision. “I can’t
afford any mistakes like that again. Life is hard enough out here without being
stupid.”

The
pause in the conversation lasted a spell before Greg finally asked, “Speaking
of a hard life, that fella that lost his wife yesterday. Is he all right?”

Thad
sighed. He heard Pa’s voice reminding him about the dues Wyoming demanded.
Sometimes, they were mighty steep. “My pa is gonna to talk to him. I don’t know
what Bill’s gonna do. Without Maggie, I think we’ll be hard-pressed to keep him
from blowing his brains out.” He continued scanning the area around them like a
soldier on guard-duty. No clouds. No coyotes. A content herd. “Pa might offer
to buy his spread. I know he’d like to have it. I have a feeling Bill might
sell it and high-tail it out of here.”

“Just
like that fella, Nate, said.”

Thad
whipped his head around. “Nate Champion is a trouble-maker.”

Greg
seemed to weigh that then took his attention back to the herd in front of them.
Angry he’d let the mention of Nate disrupt his focus, Thad did the same.

“Raney
thinks highly of him. You think highly of Raney. That seems at odds.”

Thad
tightened his jaw, waited out his irritation before he spoke. “I love Raney,
but I stand with my pa. Now, we’re gonna get these cattle across the creek, then
you go on back to the Diamond R. I’ve got to go into town.”

“The
woman who was lynched. Was it really a lynching?”

For
some reason, Greg was intent on going down bad roads. Thad reined his horse to
a stop, followed by Greg. “Yes.”

Ella
was a fine, likable woman with a big heart. Thad had never really been able to
swallow the story of her being a rustler or a whore. Then the way witnesses
died or went missing before the trial had left an acid taste in his mouth. And
the rancher who had sparred repeatedly with Ella had wound up with all of her
holdings.

No
arrests, no trial . . . admittedly, no justice.

But
that was down in Natrona County. Thad couldn’t do anything about injustices
down there. Johnson County and the Lazy H were enough to worry about, and, Lord
willing, there would always be justice in this county. “Ella was an independent,
and they give us big outfits a hard time, with their rustling and fences, but
she didn’t deserve that. Bothwell and the others, they think they got away with
it, but hell is a real place, and I won’t shed a tear when they depart for it.”

“Then
is it possible Maggie
was
murdered?”

Thad
worked his jaw back and forth, tamping down his irritation with these
questions. “Why are you so curious about all this?”

Greg
bit his bottom lip and shrugged. “Just wondering what would motivate a man to
kill a woman, I guess. Cows seem a pitiful excuse.”

“Murder
has been happening ever since Cain and Abel. Some men will do it at the drop of
a hat. Cows are just that—an excuse. It’s really about power. Anything to get it.
Anything to keep it.”

Tired
of this subject, Thad cut his horse off to the right and forced the herd to
stretch out. The creek came into view and he breathed a sigh of relief. High,
but not dangerous. Not over the tops of Greg’s stirrups in the worst spot.

He
watched for a moment as the cows meandered into the water, then trotted back
over to Greg. “Get ’em through this, and then all we have to do is settle them
in those hills over there.”

Greg’s
face had drained of any color and he nodded like his head was tied on too
tight.

“You
all right?”

Again,
the jerky nod.

Thad
drummed his fingers on his saddle horn. He needed Greg to cross
alone
and
steer the herd, so he could stay on this side of the river and bring up the rear.

Apparently,
he was crossing twice.

“Nothin’
to be nervous about. I’ll cross with ya. Then go race ahead of the herd and
turn ’em. You good with that?” Once more, only a nod. Thad tamped down a sigh.
“All right.”

They
entered the water together, cows to one side, water and cottonwoods on the
other. Greg swallowed. “It’s not very deep?”

Thad
almost chuckled at the hope in the boy’s voice. “Nah. Maybe up to Dandy’s
belly. The current is pretty strong, though. If your horse stumbles, you’re
liable to go for a quick swim, which’ll make for a long ride home.”

“Got
it.” Greg urged his horse on and leaned forward in the saddle, eying the water
suspiciously, a death-grip on the reins. He acted like a man convinced of
imminent disaster.

“Relax.
This’ll be an easy crossing.”

The
words were barely out of Thad’s mouth when Dandy stepped on a rock that shifted
beneath his hoof. The horse struggled for his footing, floundering and
splashing as more river rocks rolled away. Suddenly, the horse sank a good foot
deeper as he slid into a hole, bringing water all the way to the stirrups. The
unexpected jerk and cold water threw Greg off balance. As Dandy attempted to
leap from the creek, the boy flipped off the back and went under with a
decidedly high-pitched holler.

Thad
flinched and whistled with no sympathy. That water was cold enough to cause a
heart attack. He shivered at the thought and spurred his horse. Greg leaped out
of the water, gasping and sputtering. Thad grabbed him by the collar, snatched
him over his saddle, and lunged for the bank.

Hitting
dry land, Thad tossed the kid to the ground. He collapsed like his legs were
numb. His lips were already blue.

“Yep,
you’ve got a long ride ahead of you.” Thad undid the bedroll at the back of his
saddle and tossed it to Greg. “My favorite poncho’s in there. I want it back.”

The
glare Greg hit him with could have knocked a lesser man out of the saddle.
Laughing, Thad touched the brim of his hat, kicked Bo, and headed off toward
town. He felt a little guilty. But, truthfully, it was things like this that
would make a tough cowboy out of an underweight, greenhorn kid.

Before
Thad disappeared over a hill, he risked a glance back. Greg was up, wearing the
poncho, and pulling himself into the saddle.

Yeah,
he was gonna be just fine.