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Authors: Dorothy Garlock

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“Damn you, Cooper! Damn, damn you!”

Lorna saw Bonnie come out onto the porch and stand beside Mr. Henderson’s chair. She was wearing the tan dress again, but
today she wore a blue apron over it. Cooper raised his hand in greeting, then went on to the corral. Griffin stopped beside
the gate and Bonnie came out to meet him.

When Cooper went into the house, Lorna placed the glasses in her lap and tilted her head back against the tree. She felt as
if she had been climbing a steep hill and had at last reached the crest. She sighed deeply. She was tired in both mind and
body. She lolled there mindlessly, refusing to let Cooper enter her thoughts, and soon she was sleeping soundly.

While Lorna slept, Cooper came out of the house. As he passed the smokehouse on his way to the shed, he stopped suddenly,
looked down and stepped back. After a moment, he squatted down on his haunches and studied the sign on the ground before him.
He extended his thumb and forefinger to measure the moccasin print in the dirt. He stayed that way for a long moment before
he stood and followed the prints to the house. He saw where Shep stood and saw Bonnie’s prints beside the moccasin prints.
For a long while he stood at the corner of the house looking toward the hills to the south, then went to the barn to saddle
his horse.

The sound of a dog barking woke Lorna. Instantly alert, she lifted the glasses to her eyes and saw Cooper bringing his horse
through the gate from the corral. The dog, Shep, was barking and frisking around them. She saw Cooper point toward the house
and the dog, his head down, obeyed his command and slunk under the porch. She watched him mount his horse, and to her dismay,
he headed straight for the copse where she was sitting.

Lorna was seized by inexplicable panic. She jumped up, slipped behind the tree, and looked once again to be sure he was heading
this way, then raced through the trees to where Gray Wolf waited. She didn’t take time to erase all trace of having been there.
The thought of facing Cooper was more than she could bear right now. In terror, she flung the saddle on Gray Wolf, grabbed
up her bedroll and mounted. The stallion, made uneasy by the tension in Lorna, reared and went skittering sideways through
the trees. A heel touched his side, he half-squatted on powerful haunches and launched himself into thundering flight, his
body stretching longer and lower to the ground with every giant stride.

Lorna’s mind was filled with a contradiction of thoughts.
Bonnie had told him!
No, Bonnie wouldn’t tell unless he pried it out of her. Had Bonnie told Volney and Volney told Cooper? No, Volney was so
stingey with words that he squeaked! Damn Cooper! He knew she was here. But how did he know? How in the world, unless—Oh,
for Christ’s sake! She’d left prints down there! It hadn’t occurred to her that hers would be the only moccasin prints and
his sharp eyes would spot them.

She gave Gray Wolf his head and leaned low in the saddle to keep from being swept off by low branches. After a mile climb
she slowed him down so they could pass over a particularly treacherous stretch of windfalls and sliding rocks. He’d not catch
her now, she thought smugly. At the top of a high craggy rise she stopped, dismounted, lay flat on the rock and peered over
the side. She scanned the area with the glasses. After a few minutes she saw movement. Cooper had taken the downward trail
instead of the upper one. She chortled to herself happily.
He’d not found where she had camped in the copse!

An hour later Lorna saw Cooper going back toward home. She watched him through the glasses. He rode slowly, studying the trail,
looking to see if she had crossed it. He passed the place where she had jumped Gray Wolf across the track and she grinned
with satisfaction. She’d been taught to hide her tracks by the best there was: White Bull and Volney. Why hadn’t she thought
of prints last night?

Lorna stayed on the craggy rise until it was almost dark. When she estimated that there was about a quarter hour of light
left, she mounted and headed Gray Wolf back down the steep grade, letting the horse pick his way, knowing that his eyes were
sharper than hers. She didn’t even consider heading home from this point. Feeling confident that she could outfox Cooper,
she couldn’t resist going back to the clearing, and the idea of teasing him began to dance in her mind.

“Griffin and I signed with the land man to take up that land over along the Blue. We’re going to see if Logan will want to
contract for horses once we get going.” Cooper took the meat platter from his mother’s hands, helped himself, and passed it
to Arnie.

“Ain’t no doubt ’bout that,” Arnie said. “The captain’s needin’ stock what with all the cows he’s runnin’.”

Cooper looked at his mother. “Things are quiet in town. Mable at the eating house sent you a hello. Bessie Wilhite was in
the mercantile. She’s looking real good. She said she’s got a new girl out at The House and that me and Griff and Arnie ought
to stop by.” He shot an amused glance at his mother and winked at Arnie.

“Cooper Parnell! Hush up that talk right now! I don’t want to hear anything about that house,” Sylvia sputtered. “I declare,
what a thing to be talkin’ about at the supper table. But… I always kind of liked Bessie… regardless.”

“Bessie was… friendly. Fact is I didn’t see any unfriendly people at all. I figure on going back in a few days to take care
of some business—”

“Oh, Cooper! Couldn’t you just let things lie still for awhile?”

“No, Ma. I’ll not let what happened to Arnie lie still, and not what happened over on the Blue, either. After that I’ve got
business with a fellow in the mountains.”

“I figure that’s
my
business,” Griffin said tightly.

Cooper glanced at him, then back to his mother as she spoke.

“Are you goin’ to Clayhill Ranch, son?”

“I’m figuring on it,” he said curtly. “Arnie, I’m hoping you’ll be here long enough to give me time to help Griffin fetch
his horse herd over to Morning Sun.”

“I ain’t agoin’ no place fer a spell, unless I’m ridin’ in a buckboard,” Arnie said and cast a devilish grin in Sylvia’s direction.

“Mrs. Parnell, I’d be obliged if Bonnie could stay here till I get set up.”

“I wouldn’t hear of her doin’ anything else. It’s pure pleasure to have her here.”

“I’m obliged to ya, ma’am.”

Cooper looked down the table to where Bonnie was seated. She had been quieter than usual tonight, and he was pretty sure he
knew the reason.

“Lorna didn’t stay long, did she Bonnie?” He asked the question casually.

The fork on its way to Bonnie’s mouth halted, then slowly returned to her plate. A dark red blush came up from her neck to
cover her face, and guilt-filled eyes darted first to Griffin and then to Sylvia.

“Did she see Volney?” Cooper helped himself to a large helping of potatoes.

Bonnie shook her head. Her eyes pleaded with Griffin to help her, and when he looked at her steadily with a puzzled frown,
she bent her head and gazed at her plate.

“There hasn’t been anyone here, Cooper,” Sylvia said. “Arnie was on the porch from daylight till dark and Shep would have
let us know if someone had ridden in after that.”

“No,” Cooper said, looking at Bonnie’s downcast face. “Shep wouldn’t have let you know if Lorna was here. And she didn’t ride
in, did she, Bonnie?”

“Lorna?” Sylvia, too, looked intently at Bonnie. “Your friend from the mountain? Volney talked about her, too, while he was
out of his head. Well, for heaven’s sake, Cooper, are you sayin’ she came all that way and didn’t let anyone but Bonnie know
she was here?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“I can’t believe it—”

“You would, Ma, if you knew Lorna. Isn’t that right, Bonnie?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She knew I wasn’t here, didn’t she?”

“Yes, sir. But she didn’t know where you’d gone. I told her—”

“When did you see her? When was she here?” Sylvia asked, and Bonnie wanted to die. Everyone, even Arnie, had stopped eating
and was looking at her.

“Last night.” Bonnie almost choked on the words. “She was out there with Shep.”

“Well, I declare! What kind of girl roams around in the dark like that? While we were sitting in here, she was out there looking
in. It gives me chills to think someone was out there and we didn’t know about it. Is she one of those half-wild creatures
you hear about once in awhile?”

Bonnie saw the smile that lifted the corners of Cooper’s mouth. “Something like that,” was all he said, and helped himself
to pie.

“Poor girl,” Sylvia crooned. “Poor little thing. Well, I guess she’s just not used to bein’ around folks.”

Cooper’s eyes took on a glint of amusement. His glance darted from Bonnie to Griffin. There was a quietness on the young man’s
face, and he looked back at Cooper in much the same way as he had the day they’d talked about Clayhill being his father. He
knew that Griffin was remembering the small girl who had crouched in front of him holding off three men with a thin knife.
That girl had saved his life at the risk of her own.

Griffin placed his fork beside his plate. “It goes down hard to listen to Miss Lorna being made light of, ma’am. She ain’t
no poor little half-wild thin’. She’s a real nice lady, ’n the spunkiest one I ever knowed.”

Sylvia’s face reddened and she looked quickly at Cooper. “I wasn’t makin’ light—”

“Ma’s never met anyone like Lorna,” Cooper said quietly. “Not many people have. She takes some getting used to. You’ll have
to admit that, Griff.” He looked at his mother and Arnie, who sat quietly listening. “Lorna’s lived on that mountain all her
life with a bunch of rough men and a pa who’s soured on life. She’s chuck full of dreams about her grandpappy’s ma and pa.
I’m thinking it’s the only thing she knows that she can hold on to. Her only friends are that old mountain man in the bunkhouse,
a Cheyenne Indian, and Bonnie. Her mother and her granny died when she was a little girl, and she’s answered to no one since.
She’s handy about taking care of herself, and can do some things better than a man. I never saw anyone use a whip like she
can, or throw a knife, either. And she’s got a way with animals that almost makes you think she’s a witch. She’s as different
from any woman I ever met as daylight and dark.”

“Miss Lorna’s a real fine woman.” Griffin’s gaze held Cooper’s steadily before he looked toward Sylvia and spoke again. “’N
there ain’t no put-on to Miss Lorna, she can sing like a—”

“She’s agoin’ to get herself killed is what she’s agoin’ to do!” Bonnie blurted, interrupting Griffin. Her lips trembled and
she looked as if she would cry. “She stripped the hide off a Brice with the bullwhip ’n… he’ll kill ’er!”

All eyes turned to Bonnie and there was a dead silence.

“Is that why she left the mountain?” Cooper asked quietly.

Bonnie was so worked up she didn’t even hear the question. “She said she whopped him good, ’n he took off like a scalded cat.
She thinks he’s gone, but I know he ain’t. He won’t go till… he gets his own back. He’s bad, I tell ya. He’s plumb bad, ’n
he hates Lorna fer helpin’ me get away from him. He’ll do somethin’ to her. I know he will.” Her voice trailed away in a frightened
wail.

Cooper stood beside the table, his fists clenched, his usually unreadable face a mask of fury, the half eaten piece of pie
on the plate in front of him.
How stupid of him to think she’d come looking for him because she’d had a change of mind about marrying him!
The little spitfire had gotten herself in a fix and had come running to him and Griff to get her out of it. Disappointment
fed his anger.

“Jesus, my Lord Christ!” he cursed. “That woman doesn’t use a lick of sense! Doesn’t she know that whipping a man’s worse
than shooting him? She’s the most bullheaded, confounded—” He stomped out of the room without finishing what he was about
to say and not really understanding why he was so angry.

The silence that followed Cooper’s outburst seemed to go on and on until Sylvia, eying the half eaten pie, said, “Well, I
do declare! What’s gotten into him?”

Chapter
Seventeen

Lorna, astride Gray Wolf, her bedroll tied behind her saddle, turned the horse toward the end of the valley where Cooper lived.
A warm and comforting thought had stayed with her throughout the evening while she waited for the darkness of night—a thought
that hadn’t occurred to her when she took off in headlong flight this afternoon.
Cooper had seen her prints and he’d cared enough to go looking for her.
Perhaps there was still a chance that he cared enough to give up the ranch and come live with her on Light’s Mountain.

She nudged the horse and they moved down the hill toward the trail that led to the ranch house. She wanted Volney to know
she was there. Volney, not Cooper, she told herself. Cooper would have to come to her. But there was a way she could let both
of them know that she was still there. She was going to do it and then head for home.

Lorna judged her distance to the house carefully and drew rein well back from the first fence line. She looked behind her,
mapping in her mind the way she would go if Cooper should come after her. Gray Wolf, excited by the smell of the mares, resisted,
at first, her command to stop. She talked to him in a low soothing voice.

“Shh… shh… I know you want to be with the ladies down there, but I can’t let you go. Be patient. We’ll be home soon. By
that time Ginger will welcome you.”

The big horse quieted and stood still, although his skin quivered and his ears stood straight and tall.

For a long while Lorna sat staring at the soft glow of lamplight coming from Cooper’s house. Was he eating supper? Was he
sitting on the porch, smoking and visiting, and not giving a damn that she was out alone in the darkness? Heart of her heart!
she thought miserably.
One night of loving, a lifetime of memories.
She had been so sure that theirs had been a union of mind and soul and spirit as well as of the flesh. The only thing left
for her now was to go home to Light’s Mountain and take comfort from her memories. The sudden need to reach out and touch
him, if only with her voice, was a vibrant pressure in her throat that she could deny no longer.

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