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Authors: Monica Barrie

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BOOK: Silken Threads
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He shored up his overtaxed self-control with all his might. He could see her long black hair flying out behind her as she rode flank, chasing a calf back into the main herd. It had been then when he’d grudgingly admitted to himself that Cassandra had surprised him with her ability to ride and to learn quickly.

Still, she was still the little rich girl, the spoiled daughter of wealth who could no more live in his world than he could in hers. It was a hard and immutable fact and it burned incessantly in his mind.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk opened the small pouch and took out his fixings. He placed a paper between his fingers and poured the brown shredded leaves into it. Quickly and expertly, he rolled the tobacco, licking the paper and sealing it with one smooth movement. When he was done, he took out a wooden match, struck it on his boot heel and lit the cigarette. As he shook out the match, he blew a fume of blue-gray smoke into the air.

~~~~

Cassandra watched Kirk fiddling with his hands. She saw him bend and an instant later watched the flare of a match. She saw his face as he lit the cigarette.

Surprised, Cassandra walked toward him. “I didn’t know you smoked cigarettes,” she said.

Kirk stiffened at the sound of her voice. “Only on roundup. It’s a habit I got into a long time ago. It relaxes me.”

As a boy, he had watched his father and uncle go through this ritual each night during roundup. They rolled a cigarette and smoked it just before sleep
—ؙ
it was the only time they smoked.


I’ve never seen someone roll a cigarette before. For a minute I thought I really was in the old West.”


You can be wherever you want,” he told her, keeping his emotions on a tight rein.


Kirk, I know you don’t like having me here, but I still want to thank you for letting me come.” Even as she spoke, the tension grew thicker. His dark eyes were almost invisible, and she could not see the expression on his face
. Get away!
she wanted to scream.

“Thank Jane, not me,” he said gruffly—too gruffly.

“I already did. But you’re still the boss; I have to thank you.” Cassandra clasped her hands tightly behind her back as she spoke.

Kirk took another draw on the cigarette as he gazed at her. “We’re getting up early. Don’t you think you should try and get some sleep?”

Cassandra nodded. “I just wanted to thank you, and…and tell you....” She stopped, the words sticking in her throat. She wanted to tell him she was trying and all she wanted was for him to do the same. Straightening her shoulders, she stared directly into his face. “I’m trying, Kirk; I’m trying.”

Kirk dropped the cigarette and ground it out beneath his boot. When he looked at her, he saw her eyes were still on him. “Go to sleep, Cassandra.”

Cassandra shook her head sadly, turned, and walked away.

Kirk stood still until she disappeared. He had wanted to pull her into his arms and crush his mouth on hers. Go home, Cassandra, please, he prayed silently.

~~~~

The day came early, and Cassandra, who had slept fitfully, did not mind getting up. After a breakfast of scrambled eggs, biscuits, and coffee Lucy, the ranch cook, had prepared, everyone gathered their equipment and saddled their horses.

Cassandra, with Jane at her side, approached her new mount. The horse, an Appaloosa gelding, was about the same size as Suzi but seemed to be a wirier and more muscled horse.

“I suppose his name is Thor or something macho like that,” Cassandra ventured as she looked the gelding over.

“I think Killer would be more appropriate,” Jane joked, trying to ease the tension she heard in Cassandra’s voice.

“Very funny,” Cassandra replied. “Really?”

“No, not really. He’s a spare, for just this situation. He’s a cow horse; he has no name.”

“Oh …”

“But he’s a good mount. Just show him who’s in charge,” Jane instructed as she bent to pick up Cassandra’s saddle.

Cassandra beat her to it, and in one smooth and practiced motion, heaved the saddle onto the horse’s back. “Very nice,” Jane commented. Cassandra heard a note of pride in her voice.

“I had a good teacher.”

With the saddle was cinched tightly and her equipment set, Cassandra stood next to the gelding while Jane saddled her horse.

Twenty minutes later, they were riding flank on the herd, and Cassandra lost herself in the work, marveling at her newfound sense of freedom and enjoyment. She had exerted full control over the gelding, and by the end of the first hour, was almost as comfortable riding him as she had been with Suzi.

The morning passed swiftly, and when lunch was over, the roundup continued. After cutting the herd to half its original size, they were just about finished. Tomorrow they would drive the herd to the pens in preparation for shipment.

By mid-afternoon, Cassandra found herself riding with Jane and another hand. They were on the far flank of the herd when they spotted a lone calf off to the side. The calf was acting strange. In unison, the three riders went toward it. Drawing near, they slowed their horses.

“He’s stuck,” Jane said, as she started to dismount. Cassandra saw the calf had caught its hind leg between two rocks and was trying vainly to get free.

The other hand dismounted to help Jane. When he did, his horse seemed to shy away. “Damn!” the man spat as he jumped free of the stirrup.

When he landed on the ground, his horse reared suddenly. Cassandra’s gelding snorted, and its body tensed.

“Watch out!” the ranch hand yelled, backing away from a slithering reptile, which had suddenly appeared beneath his horse.

The sound of rattles shattered the air. Cassandra’s heart pounded. Her horse shied and started prancing away. “Hold him!” Jane shouted.

Cassandra couldn’t. The horse’s eyes rolled with fear, and he was suddenly rearing, his front legs flying high in the air, kicking out defensively.

Cassandra fought to hold him back, but the powerful gelding refused to obey her commands and an instant later he was off in a panicked gallop.

Cassandra’s heart tried to stop. The blood drained from her head, and tendrils of fear had her in a death grip. She grabbed the saddle horn tightly with both hands, the reins still clutched within them. She held on, fear adding strength to her grip as the horse ran madly out of control.

She was suddenly feeling all the pain of her first accident and knew that at any moment, the horse could fling her from its back and drag endlessly along the ground, unable to stop, unable to do anything but endure the unbearable pain and agony.

“Help me!” she screamed, her voice breaking as she called out.

~~~~

Kirk, as he had been doing all day, continued to check on Cassandra and Jane. After last night, he wondered if he could keep up his act
. I have to
, he reminded himself.

He saw Jane, Cassandra, and Bill Norton angle away from the herd and turned his attention back to the others. A moment later, he spun in the saddle. Intuition, built from years of experience, warned him that something was wrong!

He searched everywhere. Then he saw Cassandra’s horse rear, its front legs flying out in a defensive kick.

Before he could move, the gelding spun and took off in a panicked gallop with Cassandra clinging helplessly to its back.

Kirk’s heart beat rapidly, and his spurred heels dug cruelly into his horse’s flanks, sending it racing forward on a path that would intercept Cassandra. Bending low in the saddle, he saw Jane do a running mount as she, too, started after Cassandra. Bill Norton was running, too, but he was chasing his horse.

Kirk knew there was only one thing would have caused this scene. They had disturbed one of the numerous rattlesnakes.

Leaning forward, Kirk urged more speed from his horse. His mind raced madly and his eyes locked on Cassandra, refusing to think about what might happen.


Hold on!” Kirk shouted, knowing full well that Cassandra couldn’t hear him. Concentrating with all his power, Kirk kept the pressure on his horse, urging it with his spurs, his hands, and his prayers to go faster.

Two minutes later, he had gained on her. The angle he’d intuitively chosen was the right path, and just as Cassandra’s horse went down a small incline, Kirk knew he would make it.

Then the cold hand of fear squeezed his heart as he realized where the horse was taking her. Ahead of them was a level valley they never crossed. The valley floor was not sand and earth but was a bed of randomly strewn rocks challenging anyone to ride across them at a pace faster than a walk.

Kirk knew he had only a few moments left. If he didn’t reach her, it would be all over. “No!” he swore defiantly.

~~~~

Cassandra fought her fear, fought the paralyzing effects that the fear drowned her in, but even though she did, she could not gain control over the powerful horse. Its headlong rush for safety was the only thing controlling it.

Flecks of the horse’s sweat flew into her face, but she didn’t even feel it. Her hands were stiff; her fingers ached from their painful grasp. Her stomach churned, and with every stride the horse took, she thought she would die.

Fight
! she told herself.
Fight
! She tried, but she could not regain control. The loud sound of the horse’s strained breathing reached her ears just as they entered the level valley. Then Cassandra’s already pounding heartbeat faster. Before her, strewn everywhere, were rocks. The valley floor was nothing more than rock and stone.

Summoning up whatever strength remained in her arms, Cassandra made herself sit up against the rocking, tossing gait that controlled the horse. She bit down on her lower lip, and as a flash of pain seared her mouth, she jerked back sharply on the reins.

The horse’s head moved with the reins, but instead of slowing, the horse continued on its mad charge, its head turned halfway back as it ran blindly toward its death.

Cassandra fought. She struggled with the reins, sitting further back in the saddle the way Jane had shown her, in an effort to make the horse stop, but it made no difference to the uncontrollable runaway.

A hundred yards ahead loomed the mouth of the rocky valley. Her eyes widened as she saw it rush closer.


Kirk!” she screamed. “Help me, Kirk!”

Suddenly there was a man riding toward her, approaching at an angle that would cut off her horse’s headfirst run. Cassandra, still held prisoner by her inability to control the horse, saw it was Kirk responding to her cry.

The world moved in slow motion, and with every bounce she took, she saw Kirk edge closer. With unbelievable clarity, she saw the taut lines of his face and the grim slash of his mouth as he began to straighten up in the saddle.

Fifty yards separated her from death. Twenty yards separated her from Kirk. Inexorably the rocks inched nearer.

Suddenly Kirk was in front of her, his horse cutting hers off, edging it away from the rocks in a wide circle. As Kirk did this Cassandra eased back on the reins, and her horse’s head straightened out again.

Kirk reached out and grasped her reins, almost at the bit, and began to slow his horse. A thousand lifetimes later, the horses stopped.

Kirk dismounted quickly and went to Cassandra. He froze for a moment when he saw the chalky pallor of her face and the thin trail of blood that came from her cut lip. He reached up to her, grasping her stiff body and easing her to the ground.

When she was next to him, her eyes still filled with fright, he couldn’t stop himself from taking her into his arms and holding her tightly.

A moment later, he released her and stepped back. He looked into her eyes and saw life return to them. Then he looked up and saw a half-dozen riders approaching, Jane at their lead.

He freed one arm from around her and waved to them, signaling she was okay. He was conscious of the concern on Jane’s face and nodded to her that Cassandra was all right. The hands turned their horses and started back toward the herd.

When Kirk looked down at Cassandra again, he noticed some color had returned to her face. “You’re safe now; it’s over,” he whispered.

Without warning, Cassandra began to shake. Kirk, taken off guard, saw her body tremble violently. He pulled her tightly to him, burying her face in his chest, but it didn’t help. Her legs went out from under her, but his arms tightened and he held her steady.


It was happening again,” came Cassandra’s muffled cry. “Oh, God, I was going to be hurt again,” she sobbed.

Kirk said nothing. He just held her for a long time, until at last the shaking began to lessen.

What was happening again? When was she hurt before?
Suddenly Kirk understood her. He remembered the first afternoon in Wyoming when they walked to the corral. She had stopped and spoken in a tight, edgy voice. At the time, he hadn’t realized he’d seen fear on her face. He’d taken it for something else.

Stupid!
he called himself, remembering the day when he’d had Suzi saddled and brought out to her. He’d seen her face go tight, heard her voice crack, but had been blind to the pure fright suffusing her entire being.

BOOK: Silken Threads
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