No Place for a Lady (25 page)

Rebel reared and stomped his front hoofs, but she managed to
drag herself onto him and followed Jube's lead toward the nowstampeding cattle.

"Crystal, stay left, on the outside flank, and out of harm's way!"
she heard Luke yell as he spurred his mount into action to catch
up with the leader of the herd.

Now hail as large as goose eggs pelted down with a vengeance.
Crystal cried out in protest. She raised one hand for protection
and held on to her saddle horn with the other. She winced as she
felt the hail bite into her flesh. Thankfully she was astride Rebel,
one of the best cutting horses from the remuda. She managed to
ride faster than she had ever ridden in her life along the outside
edge, keeping in check any yearling that had lost its mama, urging it and pressing it back with the gentle pressure of her knees
against Rebel's flanks. She was exhilarated with the excitement
in spite of the danger.

Kurt and the others were also riding flank, ignoring the slashing
rain and hail and trying desperately to keep up with the bawling
cattle to gain control. Cowboys whooped and yelled, "Yee ha!" They began waving their arms while pressing in on the right side
of the stampeding cattle. Luke and Rusty, along with the other
hired hands riding point, managed to turn the cattle back until
they slowed and were forced into a circle.

Almost as suddenly as it started, the hail stopped, but the rain
continued to beat down.

Given out and beaten down now after riding herd all day, the
drovers slumped in the saddle, breathing a sigh of relief. It had
been a long day, made worse with little sleep.

Crystal could barely manage to make out Luke against the dark,
rain-soaked sky. Curly rode up near her. "You okay?"

"Yes" She was not about to say she had multiple cuts on her
arms. Together they slowed their pace and met up with Kurt and
the other hands.

Rusty barked orders. "Reckon I'll meet up with Luke. Crystal,
pull your bedroll up under the supply wagon outta the rain. We'll
assess the damage in the morning. I'm sure we've lost some. Curly,
you go back with Crystal. The rest of you come with me"

The rain was letting up now, which Crystal was grateful for.
Now that the stampede was over, fatigue overcame her. She was
sore everywhere, not to mention the cuts from the hail on her
forearms and hands. There hadn't been time to don her gloves.

What a long day. She was starting to wonder if she should have
even come on this trail drive.

She managed to remove the slicker and crawl under the wagon
with a dry blanket. Right before she fell asleep, she heard Curly
slip away to join the others.

Carefully easing into the saddle the next morning, Crystal
was acutely aware of how sore and stiff she was. Her chambray
shirt was torn in several places from the pelting hail in spite of
the slicker she'd worn last night. She had tried to get the tangles
out of her hair and had smoothed it as best as she could to create
a long braid that she could tuck under her hat.

Breakfast had been a quiet affair with some of the cowboys still
sleeping after being up most of the night. Others were wolfing
down hot coffee and hardtack in a hurry to get back to the herd
before they lost any more strays.

Crystal watched Luke as he made his way toward her, slapping
the dust off his gloves on his thigh as he walked. "Crystal, we lost
about ten head last night that either were trampled or strayed away
from the herd. Thought you would want to know."

She searched his clear blue eyes for clues as to how she measured up, but he just continued to look into hers.

"Is that bad? Or is that a low number?"

"Considering the stampede and that we got control pretty quick,
I'd say that it's a low number. At least Slim was able to round up
all the remuda. We should be able to cross the Yampa River today
if we make good time and don't run into any trouble. From there
we'll pick up the trail once we cross the Colorado near Wolcott,
through Bear Valley, and make our way on into Denver:"

"Are you expecting any? Trouble, I mean?"

"Ma'am, you have to be prepared for just about anything. But
don't you worry your pretty little head about it." He tipped his
hat to her and headed back to the open range.

Crystal felt like a child who had just been dismissed. She wondered if more trouble had to do with wild animals. Of that she was very afraid. She rose from the tree stump that served as a seat
and thrust her head back with a determined look. No matter, she
would face every day trusting the Lord to guide her. He would
meet whatever need she encountered.

The day proved to be uneventful with the now-docile longhorns
following the lead bull. By lunchtime they had covered a lot of
miles, and Sourdough promised them a good stew and biscuits
for supper. With mouths watering, the cowboys looked forward
to supper time.

The afternoon warmed up considerably. Crystal decided that
she loved the low humidity and drank big gulps from her canteen
as she looked out across the valley. It literally took her breath away
each time she saw the Rockies. They looked invincible. Nothing
in any book she'd ever read prepared her for their formidable
beauty.

With a sharp pang in her heart, she wished Kate were here with
her. Crystal was beginning to love the ranch, and she certainly was
not planning on selling it. She hoped that with the sale of the cattle
she would be able to pay the drovers, Jim McBride, and Franklin's
Mercantile for the supplies that were purchased on credit. Then
she would keep just the most needed cowboys.

Curly trotted up to her, interrupting her reverie. "Miss Crystal,
we are nearin' the Yampa River. You need to play it safe just in
case the dogies decide to make a run for the water. They won't let
anything get in their way once they smell it. Make sure you're near
the back of the herd, you hear? Sourdough and the chuck wagon
will cross over first with Luke so cookie can get set up:'

She nodded her understanding and watched him turn his horse
around and trot off toward the flank side. Quickly she reined her
horse around, cantered to the back, and rode drag with Kurt and
Rusty.

"This crossing can be tricky, but I'm sure that Luke has searched
out the best spot to cross over;" Rusty said as Crystal reined in
alongside him. They rode in companionable silence until Kurt
slowed.

"They must smell the Yampa River;" Kurt said. "They're starting
to turn toward the east:"

"Keep your ropes handy, folks, just in case one of 'em gets
stuck in the rush to the other side." Rusty wiped his brow with
his bandana.

Crystal looked ahead, and sure enough, the cattle picked up
speed and turned east just as Kurt had said. Even on the valley
floor, dust rolled up and formed a thick cloud, forcing them to pull
their bandanas over their noses and mouths in order to breathe.
Bawling and bellowing, the steers were in a race to see who could
get to the river first. Unfortunately, the chuck wagon's back wheels
were stuck halfway in the riverbed, and Sourdough scrambled out
into waist-deep water to try to lighten the load. He struggled to
calm the now-exhausted horses, all the while keeping an eye on
the cattle moving furiously toward the river.

On the spur of the moment, Curly and his mount splashed into
the fast-moving river to lend a hand. He reached down and hauled
Sourdough to safety onto the river's edge just as Luke scrambled
to release the horses from their harnesses and slapped them on
their haunches. They ran up the riverbank to safety.

The longhorns entered the river with tremendous speed. In their haste, some trampled over others. The noise was deafening. Luke swung his lariat deftly overhead, looping it around the
tongue of the chuck wagon. He urged his horse backward to pull
the wagon out of the river, but it seemed immobile, stuck on the
thick mud of the Yampa.

Curly swung off his horse and ran to the back of the wagon,
pushing with his upper body to aid in Luke's efforts. Just as the
wheels rose up out of the murky water, Curly tried to move out
of the way of the oncoming cattle.

Crystal, Kurt, and Rusty had just come upon the chaotic scene,
and they watched in horror as the steer snagged Curly and pulled
him under the water as other cows thundered into the river. Slim
and other cowhands ran toward the edge of the river but could
only stand by helplessly, some swearing, others mute with stricken
faces.

Crystal's heart squeezed hard in her chest, and momentarily
she held her breath. Tears left a trail as they spilled down her dusty
cheeks. How had this happened? How could her sweet friend
be snatched from her so quickly? Dear Lord, she prayed, but no
other words would come.

Late that same afternoon, sunlight dappled the leaves, creating
an intricate pattern on the hastily dug mound that held Curly's
body. The cowboys chose a hill not far from a cottonwood tree
and, with hats in hand, paid their last respects to Curly. He had
lived his short nineteen years in the truest sense of the word to
the Code of the West. Those who knew him for his easygoing,
cheerful nature had thought of him with much affection.

Rusty began, "Curly was kindhearted. The kinda guy that
took everything in stride. Always had a good word for you and
always lent a helping hand, even when he had completed his own
chores. He worked at the Bar Q up in Montana when he was
barely fifteen before he came to work for us." Rusty choked on
his words and paused to clear his throat. He twisted his hat in
his hands and continued, "He fit in well with our bunch, and we
are really gonna miss him. Good-bye, my young friend." With
a shaking hand, Rusty wiped the tears from his eyes.

The other cowboys were a solemn bunch. Crystal wondered if
each one was thinking it could have just as easily been one of them.
Some had tears in their eyes, others held back their real feelings.

"Could I say something?" Crystal asked.

Luke looked up with surprise on his face and nodded yes.

"Curly and I were talking about the stars and how God had
everything planned out perfectly. In light of my conversation with
him, I'd like to read from the Bible, in his honor, if that's okay."

When they had dragged Curly out of the river, Crystal had been
so shaken that she'd had to pull away from the group to keep from
caving in. While they dug his grave, she remembered her father's
worn Bible that she had packed in her saddlebags.

"Go ahead:" Luke shifted from one boot to the other.

Crystal opened her Bible and began to read from Psalm 8.
"'When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon
and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou
art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?
For thou halt made him a little lower than the angels, and halt
crowned him with glory and honour. Thou madest him to have
dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things
under his feet: all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field;
the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth
through the paths of the seas. 0 LORD our Lord, how excellent is
thy name in all the earth!"'