Montana Refuge (10 page)

Julie took a steadying breath. There it was, out in the open, the thought that had been running through her mind from the first moment she saw that arrow and pictured it dripping with her blood.

Trill had found her.

But there wasn’t a single person on this cattle drive who resembled Trill in any way. He simply wasn’t here.

“We don’t know someone in this camp even fired that arrow,” she said, hating the tension she could hear in her voice. She made herself take a deep breath, and then coughed as smoke filled her lungs.

“Who else?” he insisted.

“Someone could have followed us. Anyway, look at the camp.”

“What about it?”

“No, Tyler, really look. Look at your guests.”

He turned as she asked and she peered through the haze between them. Almost everyone had gathered around the campfire now, sharing stories, laughing. The only ones missing were the few wranglers who were off watching the herd.

“Your guests are beginning to feel like kindred spirits,” she whispered. “If you make a point of insinuating someone shot into this camp, everyone will get all awkward and look at everyone else with raised eyebrows. You’ll kill their fun and on the first day of a weeklong ride, you don’t want that.”

“If someone tried to kill you—”

“I know, I know, I’m terrified that whatever started in Oregon has followed me out here on the trail, but we don’t know for sure. It could have been a hapless mistake by an adventurous lawyer or secretary.”

“But—”

“Leave the arrow where it is, right there above the coffee grinder. It won’t take long before people start asking about it and I’ll tell them something that makes the point about watching where you shoot without making it sound like I was a potential murder victim. Because we leave the archery equipment here when we travel on tomorrow, what difference does it make?”

“I asked Mele to try to figure out if anything is missing, but she can’t,” he said.

“She came by here and looked at the arrow a while back. She says it’s one of ours...yours. Because the problem will go away when we head out, let’s not make an issue of it.”

He looked unsatisfied. There was an element of perverse pleasure in the fact that he finally believed she was in danger, but it wasn’t a big one. She couldn’t let him risk the whole trip because of one little thing that could have been an accident.

Or a direct attempt to kill her.

She flipped the meat and swore under her breath as she realized it was overdone. “Go away. I’ve got to concentrate on getting these steaks cooked. Go visit with your guests.”

She saw him sit with the fishermen who were taking turns cranking the ice-cream maker. The doctor wanted to know about fording the river. There was an edge of anxiety to his voice, which was understandable given the awkward way he handled his horse.

“We’ll drive the herd across about a few miles upstream,” Tyler told him. It was clear the doctor wasn’t the only one interested in this process as voices died down to hear better.

“What about the wagon?” Meg Peterson asked. “How is that going to get across deep water?”

“They’ll cross where we cross just ahead of us. Julie is new with the team, but Andy is an old hand at this. As I’m sure most of you realize, the winter months can change things on a river, creating situations that alter from year to year. This spring I rode out and determined the best way for all of us to proceed. By the time we drive the cattle into the ravine where we’ll spend the night, the cook will be there first with a pot of coffee ready and dinner under way. “Isn’t that right, Julie?”

Julie waved an arm. “That’s right.”

“But what about lunch?” Bobby Taylor asked.

“Same as today,” Julie called. “You’ll carry water and food on your horse with you for lunch. But trust me, breakfast will be so filling that you won’t be hungry for a while.”

“I wouldn’t bank on that,” Bobby said, rubbing his rounded belly.

Julie rang the chow bell and all heads turned her direction. As she dished out the entrées, people helped themselves to steaming side dishes all of which were served buffet-style, right off the fire except for the salad.

Tyler came through the line and accepted the steak she served him, then ate his dinner while seated on a bale of straw talking to the woman with the thick Minnesota accent. But he excused himself as soon as dinner was over and delivered his dirty plate to the washtub where Julie had started the chore of scraping leftovers into a bin.

“You did a good job,” he said. “Everything tasted great. In fact, your beans are better than my mom’s, but don’t tell her I said that.”

“I won’t. Have you heard from her?” she added, gesturing at his pocket where she knew he kept his phone.

“No reception because of the mountain,” he said. “I figure if anything was too wrong, she’d send one of the wranglers after us on an ATV. To tell you the truth, I think she plain just didn’t want to come.”

Or she was trying to set you and me up for a little one-on-one time,
Julie thought but didn’t say. Instead she smiled a greeting at Andy who came up behind Tyler. He dumped his plate in the bin, then held up his thermos. “Enough for a refill?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, and took the thermos to fill it.

Tyler shifted his weight. “I have to go start my shift so someone else can get their supper. Shall I assign a couple of cowboys to help you wash—”

“No, thank you,” she said, interrupting him. “Andy pumped water out of the well for me to heat for dishes. I’m all set.”

“I was just trying to help,” he said. “You look bushed.”

“I took on this job and I’ll finish it,” she said, screwing the plug back into the thermos and handing it to Andy. “Your wranglers have their own chores.”

Tyler held up both hands. “I wasn’t implying you can’t do the work—”

“Good, because I can. Go on. The sooner you get everyone back here to eat their supper, the sooner I can finish cleaning up and go to bed.”

He and Andy took the hint and left together.

Julie accepted compliments on the meal from the cheerful diners as she dished out cobbler and ice cream. By now it was almost dark and the hum of the guest voices soon grew softer as though people were wearing out. Mele, the Hawaiian gal, started a song with her little ukulele for accompaniment and the juxtaposition of the stringed instrument, island melody and the Montana sky was perfect.

“Let me help,” a male voice said as Julie scraped the last of the dishes. Julie recognized the tall, straight form of John Smyth as he stepped into the light cast by the lantern.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she said.

“I’ll wash so you can put things away,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. “I wouldn’t know where things go.”

Remembering she wanted to ask him about seeing anyone by her cabin the night before, she nodded. She picked up a dish towel as he handed her a cup to rinse and dry.

“Beautiful night,” she said.

“Sure is.” He whistled a few notes, then stopped. “I picked up that tune somewhere,” he mused.

“From Tyler,” she said.

“Is that where? It’s catchy. Do you know what it’s called?”

“I have no idea. He’s whistled it as long as I can remember, though.”

“Then you’ve known him a long time?”

“I didn’t say that,” she responded.

He laughed as though acknowledging they were sparring. Julie wasn’t sure why, however.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he added after a few moments. “I was thinking of wandering over toward the herd later and helping keep an eye on things. Do you suppose that’s okay?”

“I’m sure it is,” she said, emptying a kettle of hot water into the rinsing basin. The sleepless nights that had preceded this trip were beginning to catch up with her and she stifled a yawn. “Tyler usually gives people an opportunity to sign up during the afternoon. I thought he did that.”

“I must have missed it,” he said. “I went off on my own for a while.”

She looked up quickly, her eyebrows raised. Had he been wandering around shooting arrows? “Well, just go on over,” she added, pouring additional hot water into the washbasin, too. Then she filled the kettle again with well water and put it back over the flames. Five years ago, they’d used the river as a source for nonpotable water, then Tyler had sunk a well making it all a lot easier.

“You do this like you were born to it,” John commented.

“I’ve had a little experience.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Here and there.”

“Ever worked with Tyler before?”

She shrugged. “Some.”

“How long have you know him?”

She hoped her smile was vague. “Who says I know him?”

He smiled. “There are certain...sparks...when you’re together.”

“Hmm,” she said.

“You know, now that I think about it, I believe I heard Andy say something about your being on a cattle drive before.”

She rinsed a tin plate and dried it, then set it on top of the stack of those already done. What was he fishing for? His inquiries seemed almost random, but they reminded her of Roger Trill and the way he’d wanted to know all about Professor Killigrew.

She responded to John Smyth’s last question with one of her own. “I bet you were surprised to see me this morning after I told you last night I wasn’t coming on the trail with you.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I wasn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I got up early and ran into Rose down by the wagon. We talked for a few minutes. She said she wasn’t feeling well and was going to recruit someone else to do the cooking. When I asked who, she mentioned you.”

Julie looked up into his smiling eyes, not sure what to think. She accepted another plate. “Speaking of last night, did you happen to see anyone else while you were standing outside your cabin?”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just wondering if there are any other restless souls I’m likely to bump into if I get up in the middle of the night to use the outhouse.”

He handed her a soapy bowl and shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

She couldn’t come out and ask him if he’d seen anyone enter her cabin. For one thing, it would alarm him and he might talk to his fellow vacationers and the fragile sense of comradeship that was so imperative for a successful trip would blow away like a wisp of smoke. And for another, he might assume she was accusing him of tossing her room. After all, the thought had crossed her mind but she’d dismissed it. Why stand out there and announce your presence if your goal was to sneak around?

This whole thing would be different if she was a guest of the ranch and not a de facto employee...and one with an emotional connection to the boss as well. A connection this guy had picked up on, too. As it was, she had to protect Tyler if she could.

“Good to know,” she said at last and was relieved when Smyth washed the last dish and left to go find Tyler.

* * *

T
YLER AND
A
NDY KEPT
the first watch, Tyler sitting atop a large flat rock, a million stars above his head. Andy was no doubt sipping a cup of joe while sitting in the saddle of his favorite horse, his favorite location in the world.

Tyler knew when his watch ended, Andy would bunk down relatively close to the herd, fearless in his way, far more comfortable with animals than humans.

An hour or two earlier, John Smyth had come to offer help and Tyler had said sure. Smyth had settled himself on the flat rock a few feet away from Tyler and talked a blue streak, but Tyler had been preoccupied with thoughts of Julie and hadn’t really tracked what Smyth was saying. Smyth had apparently gotten bored because he’d left after a while, and then Tyler’s horse, Yukon, showed up to pass the time before wandering off again.

Tyler looked up when he heard voices and saw a couple of his wranglers approaching. He used the light on his watch to illuminate the time. His four hours had passed amazingly fast. Usually sitting under the stars with the sounds of running water and a contented herd nearby slowed time into a peaceful, timeless tranquillity. Tonight, he’d kept seeing that arrow quivering in the post and imagining what it would have been like for it to have struck Julie instead.

He stood up and stretched out stiff muscles. One of the men took his place on the rock and Tyler started the hike back to the camp to unroll his bed and fall into a deep sleep. He was surprised to find a pool of lantern light at the chuck wagon, and veered that direction, half expecting to find Bobby Taylor helping himself to a midnight snack. But it was Julie he discovered standing at the back of the wagon.

“What are you doing?” he whispered although he could see what she was doing—chopping vegetables. It just didn’t make any sense to him.

“Getting a head start on breakfast,” she said softly as she sliced a red bell pepper. “Denver omelets.”

“Julie, this is nuts. You need to sleep.”

“No, I’m fine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Okay, what’s really going on? Did something else happen?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine. I’ll just finish up here and—”

“I’m not buying it,” he said.

She looked around, then back at him. “Really. Go to bed. I’m okay.”

“Aren’t you a little nervous about spending the night alone after what happened with that arrow?” he said.

She blinked a couple of times. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

She finished cutting the pepper. “I’ve never actually slept out on the range by myself. I don’t want to bunk in the tent with the secretaries. They’re guests and besides, I have to get up in four hours—”

“Julie, we both need to sleep,” he interrupted, taking the knife out of her hand and setting it aside. “Andy told me how you’re learning to drive the wagon. You can’t do that on a couple hours sleep and if you wanted a tent, you should have just told the guys. They would have put one up for you. You want me to treat you like my other wranglers? Then I’m ordering you to go to bed.” He stared down at her and took a chance. “I’m going to bunk over there near those trees. Put the food away and come with me. It won’t be the first time we spent the night under the stars together.”