Cowgirls Don't Cry (15 page)

He didn’t hesitate a moment. “Yeah. I am.”

Fifteen

H
er wristwatch read five minutes after five. Cass sipped the cup of coffee Nadine handed her and watched the sky in the east lighten from cobalt to lapis. Wisps of cloud looked like watercolor brush strokes in shades of sangria and salmon.

“Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.” Cass recited the old weather adage.

A voice rumbled behind her. “Well, it’s a good thing we aren’t on the water, then.”

She chuckled as the man stepped up beside her. “G’morning, Uncle Boots.”

Nadine handed him a cup, and Cass noticed how their fingers lingered against each other. She’d seen this coming, and it lightened her heart. Nadine and Boots made a good match. Maybe she should just turn over the ranch to the Barrons. Boots and Buddy could move in with Nadine. Cass could choose any city in the country and pick up the pieces of her life.

Not far away, a horse whickered, answered by the lowing moo of one of the cows. She inhaled. The aroma of the coffee in her mug mingled with the hot, acrid smell of dust. Leather, trampled grass and the dry sweet scent of Bermuda hay all hit her nose. And it smelled like home. No. She couldn’t give up the ranch. Not now. Not after all the battles she’d fought.

The camp stirred around her. Quiet voices as people finished quick breakfasts were punctuated by the stamp of horses’ hooves as they were saddled, the creak of leather and the jangle of bridle bits as riders mounted. An occasional whinny as horses and humans worked to gather the herd added to the music of Buddy’s happy barks.

Cass swallowed the last bit of liquid in her cup. “I’ll saddle our horses, Uncle Boots. You finish your coffee.”

The first vivid scarlet of the sun’s curve poked above the horizon. Cass looked at the knot of riders awaiting her signal. This was it. About six miles to the end of her rainbow. She needed a big pot of gold when she reached it. Her throat closed, and she couldn’t breathe for a long moment.

Boots nudged his horse up beside hers. “What’s up, baby girl?”

Her smile wavered. “Just a memory.” At his arched brow and curious head tilt, she continued. “Do you remember the spring Momma died?” He nodded, and she swallowed around the lump. “Lot of storms that year. There was a double rainbow after one of them and Daddy loaded me up in the truck to go chase the end of it. We drove all over three counties, me pointing and shouting out the way. I swear that thing stayed in the sky for a couple of hours. I was so disappointed when it faded away. Daddy held my hand on the way home, even when he had to shift gears. When we got out, he told me that Momma gave me that rainbow—to show me that chasing my dreams was never a waste of time. And to remind me that she’d always watch over us.”

Boots cleared his throat then coughed softly. “For such a hard man, Ben was just an old softy when it came to you and your momma, baby girl.”

She inhaled and exhaled, her chest rising and falling, but the constriction only lessened slightly. “Daddy’s watchin’ over me now, Uncle Boots. And I want him to be proud of me.” Cass rose in her stirrups and addressed the riders. “Head ’em up, folks. Time to move ’em out.”

Buddy barked and raced to the back of the herd. The others reined their horses into position and remained quiet while the drag riders pushed the herd forward. Amid moos and bleats, the cattle milled around then moved forward. Outriders funneled them through the gate of the field where they’d camped. Boots led the way, setting the pace. With fences on either side of the section line road, it was more a matter of keeping the herd moving. They wanted to stop and graze in the right-of-way.

This was their fourth day on the drive, and folks had settled into the rhythm. The occasional whoop and slap of work-gloved hands on leather chaps punctuated the still summer air. Four thousand hooves kicked up a lot of Oklahoma red dirt. Cass wondered how far off the dust cloud could be seen. In less than a mile, they’d hit the Oklahoma County line. The front of the herd was already on paved road, but she seriously doubted she could sneak past the border.

A helicopter buzzed overhead. A few of her volunteers looked up to track its movement. A couple of them waved. National news reporters or local? She shook her head, still surprised by the coverage. She might fail miserably but at least she’d go out in a blaze of glory. She thought of the Bon Jovi song and chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. Cyrus Barron definitely wants me dead or alive. Preferably dead, I’m sure.”

* * *

Cord led two horses out of the trailer and handed the lead rope of one to Chance. “I can’t believe all the legal hoops you’ve jumped through. Getting recused from the suit and then you got Judge Reynolds to sign the order that’ll really put a twist in the Old Man’s shorts.”

“You don’t have to come, Cord. I’m not twisting your arm.”

His brother laughed. “No, you aren’t. I’m doing it because it’ll piss off the old man. Plus, I want to see if this gal is good enough for you.”

Chance smoothed the blanket across his horse’s withers, grabbed his saddle and tossed it up. He loosely cinched the girth then slipped the halter down as he bridled the animal. “The question is whether or not I’m good enough for her. I screwed this one up royally.”

Cord clapped him on the shoulder. “I still can’t believe you got Judge Reynolds to sign that order.”

He shrugged. “I caught him in the bar at the club. Heidi will file it as soon as the court clerk’s office opens, and then she’ll deliver a copy to the sheriff’s office.” He glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist. “I just hope Cass got a late start this morning. She’s been driving those cattle from can see to can’t see.”

Cord chuckled. “You’ve been reading Louis L’Amour again.” He glanced toward the west. A few stars still sparkled faintly against an indigo backdrop. Behind them to the east, the sun was banked by clouds and fiery red rays grabbed at the dark sky. “Red skies, Chance. I hope the weather holds. Getting caught out in a thunderstorm will be a very bad thing.”

They tied their horses to the trailer, and Cord grabbed a stainless-steel thermos. He poured coffee into travel mugs and handed one to Chance. “This girl is riding you hard. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

Chance stared off toward the horizon. “She makes me want to be a better man than I am, Cord.”

“How’s that working for you?”

“Hurts like hell, but I’m going to prove myself to her. I’m going to be that man, come hell or high water.”

* * *

Cass put her heels to the big sorrel, and the horse trotted up to join the dun Boots rode. Red whickered, and Lucky answered back. The horses didn’t care what was up ahead. She couldn’t see over the low rise in front of them, but she knew what waited on the other side. County Line Road. The helicopter still droned overhead, and she could see media trucks set up for remote telecasts. So far she’d declined comment but didn’t stop any of her volunteer riders from answering reporters’ questions. She rolled her neck. At the snap, crackle and pop, Boots turned to watch her.

“Problem with your neck?”

Her laugh sounded as dry as the red dust coating the weeds lining the road. “Naw. Just stress.”

They rode in relative silence but for the thud of hooves, Buddy’s excited bark and a few indignant moos. Her horse tossed his head and pulled against the reins. Cass realized she had a death grip on them and loosened her fingers. Red stretched his nose out and shook his head again, which jangled the rings on the bit in his mouth.

“It’ll be okay, honey.”

“I’m glad you think so, Uncle Boots. Me? I figure I’m on my way to jail as soon as we top that rise.”

Before he could reply, two horsemen appeared silhouetted for a moment before they cantered up the road. Her mouth straightened into a grim slash. “Is that Chance? What the hell is he doing here?”

“Don’t go jumpin’ to conclusions, Cassidy. Let the man talk before you bite his head off.”

“And who’s with him? Is he wearing a uniform? Is that a deputy?”

“I never knew a deputy to wear a shirt like that, hon.”

She shaded her eyes. Chance wore a faded chambray shirt, but the man riding with him wore a bright red plaid with fancy stitching, fringe and pearl buttons. “Okay. That’s the worst Western shirt I’ve ever seen.”

“I heard that,” the other man called.

The men reined in and waited. When Cass and Boots came even with them, they turned their horses and fell in, Chance riding knee-to-knee on her right and the other man beside him.

“My brother Cord. Cord, Boots Thomas and Cassidy Morgan.”

Cord tipped the brim of his hat and pretended to pout. “I dressed up special for this rodeo. I can’t believe you’re dissin’ my shirt.”

She had to bite her lip. Cord definitely got all the charm in the family. Working her mouth to keep from grinning, she cast an arch look in their direction. “So why are you here?”

“I have a signed injunction, Cass.”

“You what?” She twisted in her saddle and nailed his arm with a fist. “Of all the low-down, cowardly, despicable, low-life...” She sputtered and spit, so angry she couldn’t even talk. Without warning, Chance grabbed her, hauled her out of her saddle and settled her across his thighs. His arms pinned hers to her sides but she struggled anyway.

“Dammit, hold still, Cass.”

“Let. Me. Guh-uh-uh.” His lips sealed on hers, cutting off her last word. She fought him, but as his mouth pressed against hers and his tongue teased her lips open, her struggles lessened, and she relaxed—if pressing against him as her tongue entwined with his could be called relaxing.

With a ragged gasp, he broke the kiss. “Please listen, Cass. The injunction is against the sheriff and the city police. Judge Reynolds signed it so you can continue to drive the herd to Stockyard City.”

If someone were to ask later, she’d vow that was not a sob bubbling in her throat. When his arms loosened enough that she could move, she bunched his shirt into her fists and stared at him nose to nose. “Swear you mean that. Swear I’m going to get the herd to the stockyards today so they can go in the sale tomorrow.”

“On my honor, Cass. I know my word means nothing to you, but give me a chance to prove myself. That’s why Cord and I are here.” He kissed her again. “Give me a chance to be the right man for you. To prove how much I love you.”

“Oh, hi, Cass. I’m Cord. Chance’s older, saner brother. Nice to meet you.”

She laughed, unable to stop the swing of emotions from anger to giddy relief with a pit stop at
Ohmygoshhereallylovesme!
She glanced over at Cord but returned her gaze to stare at Chance, her head slowly shaking from side to side. “Hi, Cord. Nice to meet you. I think.” Then she thumped her fist against Chance’s chest. “Put me back on my horse, buster. We have a herd to deliver.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

A moment later, Chance’s strong arms slid from around her, and she was back in her saddle. Behind her, cheers rose in sharp crescendo to the soothing lows from the herd. Did she have a chance to make her dad proud? She didn’t dare hope. Not until she’d closed the gate on the last pen at the stockyards. Chance reached over and took her hand, gave it a little squeeze and winked. Her heart danced a two-step in her chest. Then they topped the rise, and her heart stopped. The road was blocked by black sheriff cruisers, the emergency lights on top blazing red and blue.

Sixteen

“S
top right there!” The voice echoed through the bullhorn.

“Keep riding.”

She didn’t need Chance’s urging. “Let’s get this over with.” She touched her spurs to Red’s sides, and the big horse surged to a canter. Chance’s horse stayed right beside her. The next thing she knew, Cord had galloped up on her other side. “Gee, we’re one horseman short of the Apocalypse.” She couldn’t resist the quip.

Cord blew out a snort of laughter. “We’ll just have to try harder.”

She glanced to her left and studied Chance’s brother for a long moment. Of similar build, with the same dark hair and brown eyes, they shared some amazing genetics. He rode with a reckless ease even though his expression looked grim and determined. She was suddenly glad these two men rode at her side.

Peeking at Chance, she noticed he was scanning the crowd gathered in the intersection behind the barricade of sheriff’s office vehicles. His face lit up, and she followed his gaze to find a petite brunette waving madly. Jealousy twisted in her stomach.

“There’s Heidi.” Chance stood up in his stirrups to see better. The woman waved again and held up a manila folder. “She got the filing done. We’re good to go. I know it’s not your style, Cass, but let me do the talking this time?”

The corner of her mouth quirked in a little grin. He hadn’t made that an order but a request. He was learning. “Who’s Heidi?” She wanted to bite off her tongue as the question slipped off its tip.

“My paralegal. She filed the injunction and delivered copies first thing this morning.”

The constriction in her chest lessened. His paralegal. Just his paralegal. Nobody special. Well, she amended, nobody special to his heart. “Tell her thanks?”

“You can tell her yourself when I introduce you. In the meantime...” He paused and blew out a breath. “I’ve probably been presumptuous but I’m on file with the court as your attorney. Let me deal with the deputies. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Chance rode past Heidi, grabbed the envelope but didn’t dismount when they stopped in front of the roadblock. He delivered the signed, if slightly crumpled, order to the deputy with the bullhorn. Words were exchanged, followed by radio transmissions between the deputies and the sheriff’s office. Cass sat stiffly, pressing her lips together.

“Easy, Cass. Chance knows what he’s doing.”

She cut her eyes to Cord. “I sure hope so.”

His knee bumped hers as his bay sidled closer to her horse. “You did something to him, Cass. Something good. Don’t let pride mess this up for either of you.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say.”

Chance reined his horse around and rejoined them. “It’s done. They’re moving their cars. We’ll still need to deal with OCPD when we hit the city limits. The good news is, Bethany PD is shutting down traffic and giving us an escort through town. That’ll help. I doubt we’ll get the same consideration from the OKC cops.”

Cass wanted to kiss him again but didn’t. Cameras of every sort were aimed in their direction and had been recording every moment of the confrontation. She turned and raised her hand. “Move ’em out!”

The outriders pushed the herd slowly, and like a lumbering black wave, the cattle shuffled forward. The cruisers moved out of the way, and the deputies turned to crowd control to keep zealous onlookers safe. The herd lined out, and the trail drive continued. As the lead riders neared the flood plain leading to Lake Overholser, Cass doubled back to check with each rider.

“We’ll take them around the lake road to the spillway and down the riverbed. It’s mostly dry. We can cross under I-40 that way.”

The herd moved without incident. A Bethany police car led the way while other units shut down intersections to traffic so they could pass safely. The lead cows balked at the dip down the riverbank, but the smell of water overcame their fear. They plunged over, and the rest of the herd followed. The riders allowed the cattle to drink their fill and then pushed them down the wide, sandy river bottom.

The sun climbed overhead, passed zenith, and the herd kept moving. They needed to find a place to move the cattle out of the riverbed and back up to a surface street. Cord and Chance rode ahead to find a spot and a few minutes later, Cord galloped back. He joined Cass, and the expression on his face left her worried.

“Chance is talking to the Oklahoma City cops. They say we can’t use Fifteenth Street to push the herd through.”

“What? How the hell are we going to get them across I-44 then? We can’t swim them down the river, and the first dam is just past Meridian. If we don’t push them out of the river soon, we’ll be stuck.”

“Duh. Chance is negotiating with them. I’m thinking we take them just past MacArthur. They’re dredging the river there, and it’s a construction zone. We can drive the herd to the start of the riverside park and use the bike and running trail. That gets us under I-44. If we go all the way to Agnew, we can take them straight under the Stockyard City arch and to the stockyard pens. With the publicity you’re getting, all the merchants are lined up ready to help.” He held up his cell phone. “My contact at the chamber of commerce says they’re ready to block the intersections with their private vehicles if that’s what it takes.” He passed the phone to her so she could read the text for herself.

“I...this is just crazy.”

“And?”

She laughed. Cord seemed convinced they could do this. And Chance was a white knight fighting battles for her. “I say we unleash some crazy.”

They managed a steady speed of almost two miles an hour. Chance hadn’t returned, and she hoped he hadn’t been arrested. Cord assured her his brother wouldn’t let that happen, but she noticed he looked worried and checked both his phone and the view downriver every few minutes for some sign of Chance.

When the herd reached the construction area, the lead riders turned up the gently sloping bank. Cass topped out and reined in her horse. A cluster of police cars, with lights flashing, lined up to block any sort of egress to the street. She was relieved to find Chance, dismounted and talking to a policeman. Chance waved his hands to make some point and while she couldn’t hear his words, his posture and every gesture indicated how angry and frustrated he was. The cop responded with a jutted chin and hands stiff at his side as if he had to keep them there with effort.

She waved her riders and the herd on to the east. They wouldn’t try the street, instead opting for Cord’s suggestion. They would follow the upper riverbank, crossing under the roads between them and the stockyards. There was only undeveloped land until they hit Meridian Avenue. Any problem would likely crop up once they hit the bike trails and developed area between there and the stockyards where the land narrowed.

Cass couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder to keep an eye on Chance. And then all hell broke loose. Staccato pop-pop-pops sounded like gunfire. Her horse reared. The cattle panicked and surged every which way. She struggled to stay in the saddle as cops drew their weapons. Chance yelled and shoved the cop he’d been talking to out of the way as a knot of cows stampeded in their direction. He managed to hang on to his horse’s reins, leaped up on the animal and rode into the melee.

She heard Buddy barking wildly as he darted this way and that, nipping at the heels of the cattle, herding them away from the street. Two steers darted past the police line headed for a cluster of onlookers. She kicked her sorrel into a gallop to head them off. Buddy raced past her, nothing but a gray blur. Then everything went into slow motion.

A police car swerved in front of the cows to stop them. The driver slammed on his brakes when he realized he was going to hit them, and he twisted the wheel. The car went into a slide, the tires screaming in protest. Cass’s horrified yell was lost in the confusion. Buddy, intent on the steers, never saw the car. Despite all the yelling, the sirens, the mooing of panicked cattle, she still heard the sickening thud of metal meeting flesh and bone. Buddy yelped as he went flying. Forgetting everything but her dog, she jumped down and ran to the injured animal.

“Oh, Buddy, Buddy, Buddy.” She sobbed, tears streaming unchecked down her cheeks, leaving red streaks in the dust coating her skin. “Easy, boy. Easy. Just lie still. It’s going to be okay. Oh, please, God, let him be okay.” She touched his head, and he licked her wrist.

A warm hand gripped her shoulder with gentle fingers. “We’ll get him to the vet’s, Cass.” Chance’s voice cracked but he cleared his throat. “Heidi! Get a blanket!”

Cass didn’t hear Heidi’s reply but moments later, the woman appeared, her stylish heels sinking into the red Oklahoma dirt. She dropped to her knees, unheedful of her stockings and tailored linen skirt. The woman clutched a baseball-print fleece blanket and spread it out next to Buddy.

While Cass stroked the dog’s head and crooned to him, Chance carefully checked for injuries. With the gentleness of a father handling a newborn baby, he lifted Buddy just enough so that Heidi could slip the blanket beneath him. The dog whined but didn’t move. A police officer appeared, and before Cass could tell him off, he picked up one edge of the blanket.

“My car is this way, Mr. Barron. I’ll take the dog to the emergency vet’s.”

“I’m going, too.” She stood up and bent to take a corner of the blanket.

Chance pulled her against his chest. “No, love. You can’t. You need to get the herd back together and get them to the stockyards. Cord will help. I’ll go with Buddy. I promise he’ll be okay. I won’t let Buddy out of my sight.” His arms tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. The only way to beat the old man was for her to lead a triumphant parade into the stockyards. She had to do this. For herself. And for the two of them. “Now go do what you have to do. You have to finish this.”

He cupped her cheeks as she tilted her face up, and he dipped his head to kiss her. His thumbs caressed her skin, smearing tears and dirt. “Cowgirls don’t cry, Cass. And you are the finest damn cowgirl I’ve ever had the honor to meet. Now get your pretty ass back in that saddle and ride. Do this for you. For your dad. For the Crazy M Ranch.”
For us,
he added silently.

Cass drew in a long, shuddering breath. Her chin came up even as she leaned her forehead against Chance’s very solid chest. “Take care of Buddy, Chance. I’ll see you on the other side.”

She stepped back, but he didn’t release her. Not yet. Not until he claimed her mouth again. She clung to him through the kiss and for a moment longer. As his arms fell away, she turned on her heel and strode into the middle of the chaos, her back straight, her head held high.

Red waited nearby, one front foot stuck in the loop of the reins. He stood still as she approached and freed his foot. Grabbing up the reins, she shoved her boot in the stirrup, mounted and settled into her saddle. In less time than she anticipated, all the cattle were rounded up. Several of her riders had been injured, two seriously. A few of the cops suffered cuts and bruises but they were all on their feet. Cass was down to a handful of drovers, the herd was skittish, and they still had just over three miles to go.

One of the cops yelled and waved to her. She recognized him as the man Chance had been speaking with, so she waited as he approached. He grabbed one rein and stared up at her.

“Firecrackers. Some idiot let loose with a package of Black Cats.” The cop shook his head and spit on the ground. He glanced around and winced at the scene. “Keep to the riverbank and the park. We’ll patrol the overpasses, Miss Morgan. No one else will disrupt your trail drive. I didn’t want it to come to this, that’s for sure. But I had orders, ma’am.” As they watched, one of her riders was loaded into the back of an ambulance. “No sirree, I sure didn’t want it to come to this.”

“Neither did I.”

“Good luck, Miss Morgan.” He turned loose of her horse and stepped back as she put her heels to the sorrel.

Someone called her name, and she glanced back. A bevy of reporters clamored for her attention but she ignored them. The squad car with Chance and Buddy had already disappeared. The ambulance with her drover also pulled away, lights flashing, though the driver waited until the vehicle was well past the cattle herd before the sirens blared.

With the herd back in some semblance of order, she returned to work. She would finish this. Come hell or high water, she’d get these cattle to the sale and get the money she needed to pay off the mortgage. Cyrus Barron damn sure wasn’t getting her ranch. For a brief moment, she wondered what the man would do when he discovered two of his sons had defected to her side in this private war of theirs.

Cord trotted up beside her and handed her a wet bandanna. “You might want to give your face a swipe, especially before we hit Stockyard City. At the moment, you look like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.”

“Gee, Cord. I bet the girls just swoon when you give them a compliment.”

He laughed. “I like you, Cassidy Morgan. Too bad my little brother met you first.”

She wiped her face and winced when she saw the dirty streaks staining the bandanna. “When this is done, I’m going to stand in the shower until there’s no hot water left in the tank.”

“I’d offer to scrub your back, but I have the feeling Chance will volunteer first.”

Up ahead, a cow broke ranks and before she could react, Cord urged his horse forward and charged after the miscreant steer. She watched the expert way he worked. Chance sat a horse just as well. And he’d helped her restring barbed wire fence like he’d done it all his life. Neither of these men acted as she expected. The Barrons were the closest thing to royalty in Oklahoma—in fact, one media wag had dubbed them Red Dirt Royalty. One brother was a US Senator. Another presided over a media empire that included newspapers, TV stations, resorts and an amusement park. A Barron and the senior partner in his own law firm, Chance hobnobbed with the rich and powerful.

But when he came to her place, when he wore his jeans and work shirt like he was born to them, Chance became a different man. He sat on the porch with her, holding her hand and petting Buddy...