Read Mary Connealy Online

Authors: Montana Marriages Trilogy

Mary Connealy (53 page)

He rode in a steady canter down the hill on a fresh horse. The cattle were so deadened that they didn’t react to the fast-moving roan. When he reached her side, he said, “Go on up. The girls need some help.”

“The girls don’t need my help with anything.” He was just trying to take over the dusty job of bringing up the rear.

“They didn’t tell me what it was. I got the impression it was…a …”

Belle saw him start to blush. She flickered her eyes open and shut to clear her vision. Silas? Blushing? The man was darkly tanned and coated with dirt, and she couldn’t be sure, but she could swear his cheeks were slightly reddened with embarrassment.

“I think it’s a…female thing. You’d better go.”

Belle knew of all the lies he might tell to get her to give up the job, that would never occur to him. They really must need her. “Okay, I’d better go see what’s wrong.”

Silas nodded, and his eyes didn’t quite make contact with hers. The embarrassment again.

Belle rode on up the winding trail, covering it in minutes instead of the hour or two Silas had left to face. The sun was just dropping over the high mountain slope on her left when she crested the hill. She came down into a heavily wooded, steeply canted area with a rippling creek at the bottom.

She saw yet another hard climb, this one narrower than today’s, ahead of them. They’d face it together tomorrow.

Lindsay was giving Elizabeth a bath in the creek upstream of the milling cattle. Sarah had a campfire going and stew made from their endless supply of dried beef on to boil.

Emma was on horseback.

The girls all looked just fine.

What did that low-down man mean by “a female thing”

Well, that was about as low as he’d ever stooped.

Silas pulled his kerchief up to protect his mouth as he thought of Belle’s expression. He would have laughed if it wouldn’t have made him eat a mouthful of dirt—even with his mouth covered.

It was the only thing he could think of that would have made that blasted woman move out of this dirt. He’d only thought of it because of the way he’d been brought up. He was a man who had been surrounded by dance-hall girls all his young life, and there wasn’t much he hadn’t learned too young and too well. And one thing he’d learned was the phrase “female thing” would gain a woman instant sympathy from the other women and set a man running in the opposite direction. In both cases, it was the perfect lie. He hadn’t been able to say it without feeling like six kinds of fool, but feeling embarrassed played into his hands.

Of course now he was a liar—although a “female thing” could include cooking supper, now couldn’t it?

He prayed for forgiveness and had the sense that not only did the Almighty forgive Him, but the good Lord sympathized. Maybe even laughed.

It wasn’t that hard to quit thinking about his stubborn boss, considering he was half dead from exhaustion. He shooed the loafers along faster. The sun set before he was halfway up. But the worst of the slides and cliffs were behind him. The cattle could smell water now, and that picked up their speed more than all his hard riding.

By the time he topped the mountain, it was full dark. The stars were out and the temperature had plunged like it always did in the high country. He practically stumbled when he unsaddled his horse.

Then Emma was beside him, working on the roan with a handful of grass and cutting his work in half.

“I don’t know what you told Ma, but she’s riding night herd right now, and I’d eat and get to sleep before she comes in. She was right prickly with us when none of us were sick.”

“I made it up so she’d come into camp quicker. She’d been back there all day.”

“Ma always rides drag. It’s the boss’s job.”

“Your ma says that so you won’t have to take a turn, and I agree with her when it comes to you girls. And it’s no big deal for her to do it when you’ve just driven a dozen or so head into Helena. But it’s
not
the boss’s job. In a regular outfit, everyone takes turns, and I’m from a regular outfit. But I can’t convince her to let me spell her. So, I made something up, and now she’s mad at me again. I reckon I deserve that.”

Emma looked over the back of the roan they were working on and smiled at him. Her teeth glowed white out of her dirty face. It was the first time he’d seen the girl be anything but dead serious. It occurred to him in that moment that he was really starting to like the game little girl with the outsized horse skills.

Emma said, “I reckon you do deserve it, but if she asks me again if I’m okay, I’ll try and act sick if’n ya want.”

Silas started laughing then and shook his head. “Better let her get after me for lying instead. Me lying she might forgive. Me getting one of her girls to lie for me, well, she’d be after my head for sure.”

Emma smiled again. “I ‘spect that’s right.”

They finished the horse in double the normal time because they worked so well together. Then they went to the camp and Sarah had a plate of food ready for Silas. He swallowed it fast then dove for his bedroll as quickly as possible to avoid getting scolded by Belle.

He meant to lay awake and watch for her to see if she still looked mad, but he was asleep as soon as his head hit his saddle.

The next day was a repeat of the first, except this time Belle hoped Silas would spell her at drag. He rode up after two hours of watching her eat dust.

“My turn back here.” He glared at her and braced himself for what was to come.

“You must really want to do it to make such a fool of yourself last night. Have at it.” She rode away without further comment.

Silas managed to smile as she rode down into more of the same monotonous dust.

The trail twisted back and forth, up and down the mountainside like a prairie rattler, only meaner. When they crested the next ridge, they’d gone half as far as yesterday and the sun was setting on them. In the waning light from the mountaintop, Silas saw what looked like an endless series of ridges out in front of them, and he almost fell into bed, he was so exhausted from thinking about what lay ahead.

Wade’s body had been too close as they’d ridden. Glowing Sun didn’t like it. But he was strong and she was exhausted, and her stiff back finally relaxed against him.

She awakened as he lifted her off the horse. She struggled against him, and he quickly set her on her feet. Her knees gave out. He caught her before she sank to the ground. Then he escorted her to a log and sat beside her.

The sun had been lost behind clouds, leaving a cold, murky day that pulled at her to sleep again and confused her about their direction. She couldn’t tell how long they’d traveled, but if this was the midday meal, she’d slept for hours. She hoped they’d get to her village soon.

Glowing Sun sat at the warm fire on this cold day. The men produced jerked beef and hard biscuits from their packs and shared with her until her stomach was stretched and full.

Wade opened a tin can and gave her a half of a yellow fruit. “Peaches,” Wade said. He stabbed at the fruit with the same knife he’d used to open the can and extended the dripping fruit to her.

She carefully pulled it off the knife with her teeth. The juicy sweetness nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“Have some more.” Wade speared another slice, holding it carefully over the can.

She reached out to steady the knife as she bit. The warmth of his hand mingled with the sweetness startled her into looking away from the treat.

Her gaze met his and was captured. The moment lingered. His hard, calloused, gentle hand remained joined with hers. She slowly took the peach, and his eyes flickered to her lips in a way that made her hand tighten on his.

At last she blinked and pulled her eyes away and spoke to the ground. “Thank you, Wade.”

He touched her chin so she had to look at him again. “You’re welcome, Glowing Sun.”

“Wade.” She puzzled the name over. “Wade in water.” She arched her brows.

Wade nodded. “Wade in water.” He smiled and offered her more fruit. “Peach.”

“Peach.” The word tickled her brain, but she couldn’t remember it from before. However, she was sure she’d never forget this delicious dessert.

“Horse.” Wade pointed at the buckskin they’d shared.

“Horse.”

He seemed to enjoy this game of making her say his white words, so she’d play it. But the words made some sense.
Horse.
She remembered that now.

She wondered if she should tell Wild Eagle that she’d slept in another man’s arms. Would he be angry? He was a warrior and possessive of her. The springtime would see them wed.

“Beef.” Wade extended more of the salty, tough meat to her.

She shook her head and rubbed her stomach. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Wade said.

Glowing Sun smiled. She remembered that, too.

They had a halting conversation over the meal, then Wade stood and began packing the scanty camp.

She did her best to help, eager to be on her way home.

Wade crouched down on the heavily traveled trail. “They’ve already gotten through this pass.” He shook his head. “They’re making good time.”

Shorty came back from scouting around in the fading light of sunset. “I thought you said they needed hands.”

“They do.” Wade looked up from tracks that were obviously at least a day old.

“I can read sign. They’ve got five seasoned hands. They might need another hand or two, but not all four of us.”

Wade hadn’t looked that close, but he could tell the herd moved steadily, and it was obvious they were making good time. He’d also bet his hat that the seasoned hands were Belle’s daughters, but he didn’t mention it. He’d come to trust these men though, so he didn’t worry that they’d hurt the Tanner women.

He looked up at Shorty. “I guess we can go on and check. It sounded like they were taking this herd with almost no help. That was the day before they started. I hope they did find more help. I’ve been worrying.”

“Can we catch ’em tonight?” Roy asked, always full of energy, eager to work and push. A good trait in a boy.

Wade shook his head, looking up at Glowing Sun, sitting perched on his horse. She watched him closely, her eyes narrow. She seemed to be listening, but Wade doubted the woman had learned enough English in an afternoon to follow their conversation.

He didn’t like keeping her out overnight with four men. It wasn’t proper. But nothing about this situation was normal. “I know this trail. It’s a killer in the dark. Rock slides and cliffs especially on this side, going down. We’ve got to wait until morning.”

They went back down the trail a ways until they got out of the wind and set up camp. They ate well. Wade had brought plenty with him, planning to join the drive after he’d left a winter’s worth of supplies at the line shack.

Glowing Sun ate as if she were a bear storing up fat for the winter. He wondered how long those men had kept her prisoner.

He kept after her to talk English, and she’d gotten better through the afternoon. She was speaking in broken sentences and learning so fast, Wade knew she’d been familiar with the tongue in the past.

He settled into his cold, blanketless bed—Glowing Sun had his only cover. He fell asleep instantly. He woke in the wee hours of the night to find her gone. “Wake up.” Wade lunged to his feet. “Glowing Sun ran off.”

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