Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming (20 page)

James turned in his seat, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Ma—Miss Angel. I get to hold the reins, but don’t worry, I won’t wreck the buggy. I promised Uncle Travis I’d do everything he tells me.”

Angel snatched at the chance to move the subject away from church. “That’s wonderful, James. I’m sure you’ll do a fine job.”

The boy beamed and turned back around. He held out both hands, and Travis placed the reins in them as the horses moved at a lazy walk. It might take some time to get home at this pace, but she didn’t care. She had a lot to think about, and Libby’s attention would be on her son’s new experience. Angel settled into her seat, her mind on Travis. Why did the man go from genial, to snapping, to worried in a short space of time? Whatever the reason, she’d make sure another episode like the one in the barn didn’t occur again. For several seconds she’d been sure he intended to kiss her. The look in his eyes as he’d bent over her had held something she couldn’t define—and aroused feelings she didn’t understand—and wasn’t sure she dared repeat.

Bart Hinson let loose a string of oaths and kicked the feet of the man wrapped in a bedroll a couple of yards from the fire. “Get up, you dadblasted bunch of lazy buzzard bait. The sun’s up and yer not. Move it!” His words bellowed across the small clearing.

The scruffy, bleary-eyed outlaw rolled from his place on the ground, grumbling and cursing. “Why’d’ya have to kick me? Not like we got cattle to rustle or money to spend.”

“Yeah, Boss. What’s the hurry?” A skinny, stoop-shouldered man slung his gun belt around his hips.

“He ain’t
my
boss,” muttered a third man sitting on his blankets.

Hinson turned with a roar and lunged at the outlaw, striking him in the mouth with his fist and knocking him back against the hard ground. “Anyone else wanna question my authority?”

No one spoke, and the other men scrambled around the camp, tossing branches on the smoldering coals and pulling out cooking utensils for breakfast. The next minutes passed in silence as each avoided their comrade still prostrate on the ground.

Finally, the man grunted, rolled to his side, and got an elbow under his body, pushing himself to a sitting position. “Sorry—
Boss”
He emitted the words with forced respect.

Bart’s tense stance relaxed. “We don’t got cattle to drive now, but we’re gonna have plenty in a week or two.”

The bustling activity came to a halt, and all eyes turned his way. Hinson hitched up his belt, and his chest swelled. “I didn’t drag you halfway across the country for our health, you know. I got me a plan, and if each of you varmints mind yer manners you might just come out rich. But there’ll be no more bellyachin’ or you’ll get a two-by-six hole in the ground. Got me?” He stared at each one in turn until the men agreed. “Good.”

He turned away and picked up his bedroll. He’d been hunting that gal for three years and finally got a fix on where she’d headed. Her purty face had been a draw all this time, but it sure didn’t hurt that she’d fallen in with a rancher with a large herd of cattle. No sir. Didn’t hurt none at all.

Another week passed, along with another church service. Life settled into a routine. Angel spent her days working horses and tracking predators, and evenings visiting with her grandmother. The more time she spent with the older woman, the more her affection grew. Maria de Luca, for all her aristocratic poise, settled into ranch life as though born to it. She wasn’t above helping Smokey in the kitchen, and Angel even caught the two laughing together while Grandmother dried the dishes.

Angel stood on the porch and took in a lungful of fresh morning air. It felt good to be alive. Travis hadn’t said any more about finding a replacement, and she’d started to breathe easier. She’d been successful in cleaning out a pack of coyotes on the east side of the ranch, and now scouted the western side for the more elusive wolves. James had been nagging her to come, but after the incident with his horse she didn’t feel comfortable having the boy tag along.

Libby stepped out the front door and walked to where Angel stood. “Have you seen James this morning?”

“No. He spoke to me before he headed to bed last night, and I’m afraid I may have upset him, so he’s probably avoiding me today.”

“Oh? What happened?”

Angel did a quarter turn and faced Libby. “He asked if he could track wolves with me today, and I told him no. After he ran his horse and nearly got himself killed I just figured…” She let her words trail off, afraid she’d overstepped her bounds.

Libby patted her arm. “Don’t worry, you made the right decision. I had a long talk with him about the sheriff’s concerns, and he denied sneaking off to town. But I’m not sure.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if it would’ve been better keeping him in San Francisco.”

“I’ve never been to a big city, but wouldn’t there be plenty of places where he could get into scrapes?”

“That’s why I moved. Sometimes it seems like he’s trying so hard to please me and be a good boy; then other times—“

“He has a lot of energy, Libby. Maybe he needs a job.”

“A job? He does his schooling in the mornings and has chores. This fall he’ll ride into town and attend school.”

Angel shook her head. “I didn’t mean like a job in a store. I was thinking about letting him get more involved in the ranch. Make him feel that he’s useful and important. In another four or five years he could be going off on his own, and you want him prepared.”

Libby’s eyes clouded. “I hate the thought of him growing up. He’s all I have left.” She hunched one shoulder. “Except Travis, I mean. But James is my son, and it kills me to think of him leaving.”

“I think he’s been trying to show you he’s not a child.”

Libby nodded. “I know. It’s just hard.” She gave a half smile. “I’m going to see if he’s out with the kittens again, since he’s not in his room. Smokey will have breakfast on the table soon.”

“Good idea.” Angel watched Libby walk across the hard-packed dirt and slip inside the barn. She found it difficult to relate to Libby’s feelings. Boys raised in the outlaw band were riding herd on stolen cattle at James’s age, and some had already killed a man. Of course, they didn’t have city-bred mothers worrying about them, either. What kind of a mother would she make if the time ever came? An image of Travis flashed through her mind. He’d make a good father… She lassoed her thoughts before they galloped away with her.

Libby emerged from the barn and hurried to the house, her mouth twisted in concern. “He’s not there, and his horse is gone.”

Angel felt a tiny stab of worry but pushed it away. “Remember the last time? He took his horse to the stream and staked him out on the grass. I’m sure he’ll return soon.”

Libby mustered a smile. “You’re right. And if he doesn’t show up in time for breakfast, he’ll have to go hungry. James needs to learn to be more responsible. He is thirteen, after all.”

Angel bit her lip to keep from grinning. Libby was trying and that’s what mattered.

Travis pushed his chair back from the table and glanced at Libby, working to quell his annoyance. “Still no sign of James? It’s not like him to miss a meal.”

Libby shook her head. “I know. I wasn’t worried at first, but now…”

Wren spoke up from his place at the end of the table. “How ‘bout I go take me a look-see, Boss?”

“Yeah,” Arizona drawled and stood. “Me too. Can’t have Miss Libby worried about her boy all morning.”

Travis looked from one man to the other. “You’re right. Work can wait.” He turned to his foreman, who sat silent, his gaze fixed on Libby. “Nate. You put the rest of the men to work, and I’ll help the boys look for James.”

Nate dragged his attention back to Travis. “Sure. Let’s go, fellas.”

Angel touched Libby’s arm. “I’m going too. I think I’ll start down at the stream.”

“Thanks, Angel.” Libby’s pale face bespoke her anxiety.

Over the next few minutes the dining room cleared, while Smokey, Libby, and Grandmother stayed to put the room back to rights.

Travis had stuffed down his irritation in front of Libby. She had enough to worry over without knowing he’d like to rattle that boy’s cage and make him think before he acted. No doubt he was lollygagging somewhere, with no thought for anyone else. This time he’d take a firmer hand with James. The boy needed a man-to-man talk, and that was Travis’s responsibility.

He headed to the barn and climbed the ladder into the loft. Most likely he’d find the boy playing with the kittens again. “James? You up here?” He reached the top rung and stepped onto the hay-littered floor. “James! Speak up, boy.”

Nothing. A movement caught his eye, and Travis tromped across the loft and looked behind the stack of hay. A black-and-white cat blinked at him, lifted her front paw, and started to clean it. Three kittens romped under the window, rolling and batting at each other’s ears. No sign of James. Travis returned to the ladder and made his way to the floor of the barn, exiting the structure several moments later.

Libby waited outside. Wren and Arizona huffed around the corner at the same time Angel appeared. Wren caught his breath and sputtered. “His rifle’s gone, Boss. I checked the gun cabinet in your office. The one you let the boy use is missin’.”

Travis’s heart jumped like a jackrabbit running from a coyote. Not good. Not good
at all. “
Why would James take a rifle?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud and cringed at the added worry it would cause Libby.

She clutched his arm, her grip tightening with each word. “He could hurt himself, Travis.”

He patted her hand. “He’s probably just target practicing.”

“James knows he’s not allowed to shoot unsupervised.” Her voice cracked. “You’ve got to find him.”

“We will.” Travis faced his men. “Saddle up. Scout around and see if you can find his tracks. Wren“—he turned to the bowlegged man standing at attention—“find Nate and the others. I want every man on this.”

“Yes, sir.” Wren sprinted for the corral and grabbed a lasso.

Angel stepped close to Libby. “I’m saddling up and hunting too.”

Travis furrowed his brow. He’d hired her as a tracker—with her skills she might have the best chance of finding the boy. “Fine. I want anyone who finds him to fire three shots in the air. What direction will you take?”

“I’ll head over toward the butte. I’ve seen wolf tracks there. It’s too far to hear any shots from there, so if I find him I’ll have to get closer to the ranch before I alert you.”

Libby gasped and covered her mouth with her fingertips. “You think he’s hunting wolves? Alone?”

“I don’t know, but we need to check.” Angel squeezed Libby’s hand. “We’ll bring him back, Libby. But it might not hurt if you ask God to give us some help.”

Angel left the ranch urging Bella into a hard trot. Her gut tensed. Something was wrong. She’d meant it when she suggested Libby pray, although why that thought occurred she couldn’t be sure. Maybe something the pastor said about trusting God in times of need. This certainly qualified. She wondered if God would listen if she prayed with her eyes open.

Bella snorted and tugged at the reins, anxious to pick up the pace. They still had a couple of miles to cover and Angel loosened her grip, allowing the mare to move into a smooth, ground-covering canter. Sagebrush and low, flowering plants flashed on the edge of her vision, but she kept her focus on the butte looming ahead. The towering rock wall grew closer, but she spotted no indication of human life. Cattle dotted the landscape, spreading out over a swath at least half a mile long.

Angel reined Bella to a halt not far from the spring-fed pool and dismounted. She let her mare drink, then walked to the boiling spring and filled her canteen with the fresh, pure water. Slipping off the horse’s bridle, she placed a halter on Bella’s head and staked her on a long lead to a sapling near water and grass. She glanced around. Nothing. Maybe coming here was a mistake, but a sense of urgency pushed her forward.

She gazed up at the butte, remembering Travis’s words the first time they’d ridden here. The other side of this rock was sloped, and climbing partway up afforded an excellent view. Riding boots didn’t offer good hiking stability, but she’d climb it anyway. Good thing her arm had healed to the point of only being sore.

Angel checked the load in her rifle, cradled it in her arm, and started her trek up the hill. Loose shale littered the lower part of the rise and she skirted around it, gingerly picking her way over the outer edge. The ground grew firmer, and patches of grass and wildflowers dotted the area, interspersed with outcroppings of sharp rock and rounded boulders.

About halfway up she took a break and perched on a rock, setting her rifle on the ground. Most of her time was spent in the saddle, and hiking up a hillside left her short of breath. Only a hundred feet or so to go and she should have a good view of the surrounding countryside. She picked up her gun and finished the rest of the ascent, pausing to make sure of her footing before turning.

She surveyed the scene spread before her and emitted a small gasp. The rolling plains of Wyoming stretched out, the grass undulating like waves on a windblown lake. Magnificent mountains raised tight-fisted fingers to the sky in the distant haze, proclaiming their dominance over the flatlands at their feet. Clouds drifted across the azure sky, and she could make out diamond glints sparkling on the surface of a stream.

She tore her gaze away from the scenery, wishing she could sit on a boulder and do nothing but dream for the rest of the day. Not now. She’d promised Libby to bring James back safely. She scanned the area at the base of the hill and slowly moved her gaze farther away. Nothing moved but a calf romping a short distance from his mother. She continued to search until she could no longer distinguish the identity of the shapes, then covered the area from there back to the base of the butte once again. Still nothing.

Frustration mounted and left Angel feeling helpless. A secret part of her had hoped the prayer she’d prayed had touched God’s ears, and maybe He was leading her. She’d fooled herself. God surely had better things to do than listen to someone like her. After all, she was hiding the truth from Travis and his family. Not even Grandmother knew how she’d been raised.

God didn’t like liars. She was sure of that, so why should He answer her prayers? But what about James? Should the boy be punished and remain lost, possibly hurt, because God didn’t see fit to listen?

Angel heaved a sigh and plucked her rifle off the rock. Time to head down the hill and search another area. She gave one last look over the landscape, dreading the downward descent in her slick-soled boots. Something moved from behind a clump of brush at the base, and she froze. James? No. It was low to the ground and gray. A shiver ran up her spine. A wolf. Either a lone wolf or a small pack had taken up residence on the outskirts of this herd of cattle. No wonder—it was easy pickings when the herd came in to drink.

She raised the rifle to her shoulder and sighted down the barrel. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she eased her finger off the trigger. Another wolf? Slowly she turned her head a couple of inches and stared. James stepped out from behind a scrub tree, his rifle aimed at the wolf. Should she shout at the boy, or allow him to take the shot? If she didn’t stop James from killing the wolf, would that be going against what Libby wanted for her son?

Once again Angel steadied the rifle and chanced a last look at James. Dark shadows circled only a few yards behind the boy, inching along and hunched low to the ground. The rest of the pack had found James.