Much Ado About Mavericks (28 page)

“Yes, sir.”  Henry shimmied up the stirrup and pulled herself into the saddle.  “Let’s go.”

Jake worried about Henry’s fondness for Ben.  He’d be leaving in a month and probably never see her again.  That would break the girl’s heart.  Jake felt a pang of anger that a man would hurt a little girl that way.  Hurt a
big girl
that way.

The day was long and hard.  Uneventful, too, for which Jake was grateful since they’d chased horses all night.  They drove in a couple hundred head of cattle that they’d found hiding in gullies and crevasses.  Over all, it had been an easy day, although no day was easy without a decent night’s sleep, which none of them had. 

Dismounting, she stretched her back and then her legs while she sneaked a look around the camp for Ben, but didn’t see him.  The place seemed strangely empty without him even though sixty men and three strays were all busy doing something.

A warm body pressed her from the back.  She smiled, knowing it was him, and also knowing he couldn’t touch her this way in front of God and everybody.  “Back off,
Boston
.”  She shoved his hands away from her but didn’t turn away from her horse--lest Ben get to feeling too cocky.

He shrugged, but had a silly grin on his face.  “Did you find lots of critters?”

Her skin tingled where he’d held her.  “What the hell do you call that herd of cattle we snuck in?  Only a couple hunderd head.”  She giggled, then slapped her hand over her mouth.  She’d never giggled in her whole entire life!  Clearing her throat, she pulled the cinch loose and said, “Yup, you got lots to do tomorrow.  Prob’ly be needing some rheumatiz medicine come sundown.”

Gently moving her aside--and why she let him, she had no idea--he unsaddled Red. 

“Hell,
Boston
, I can take care of my own damned horse.”

Tossing the saddle by her bedroll, he winked at her.  “Everyone needs help now and then, Jake.  Even you.”

Chapter 14

Another day--another aching back, Ben thought has he crawled out of his rocky bedroll.  When the rocks didn’t stab him, his dreams of Jake did.  All in all, he hadn’t had decent sleep for two nights straight.

Henry, with the boys in hot pursuit, ran square into him, then hid behind him.  “You touch my hair again and I’ll bash your face in!” 

Grinning, Homer and ran for her.  “Jake said we wasn’t to fight during roundup.”

“I don’t care.  You pulled my hair and I’m a gonna bloody your nose.”  She dashed from behind Ben and clipped Homer in the jaw.  Ben was impressed with her right jab, however inappropriate.

“Jake!” Homer howled.  “Henry broke the rules.  Now she has to go back.”

Jake threw
her plate in the wreck pan and
ambled
over to Homer,
where
she stood feet apart and hands on her hips.  “There ain’t no rules if you pulled her hair.”  She turned to Henry and said, “Give him your best shot.”

The two of them ran off, and Ben wasn’t sure if that situation had been resolved quite right, or not.  He chuckled and put his boots on.

While Jake and the children seemed to bounce from bed like spooked antelope, it took a little time for Ben to get his bearings on the day.  Even more so when he hadn’t had any sleep.  But Whip’s coffee and the smell of potatoes frying in bacon grease helped sweep the cobwebs out of his brain.  Lord knew, he’d die before he let anyone, let alone Jake, know how miserable he felt.

The cattle mooed in the distance.  In no time flat, he’d be working his butt off.  He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip, burning his tongue.  Damn!  And then a gust of wind blew his hat off and he had to go chase it.  He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be his day.

Jake handed him a plate of fried potatoes and a couple of sourdough biscuits.  “Eat hearty,
Boston
, because I’m gonna work your ass off today.”

He didn’t doubt it.  Less than half an hour later, he’d saddled the big bay, built a hell of a bonfire, and placed an iron from each of the four ranches in it.  “We’ll start with one fire, then when we get more cattle in, I’ll make a couple more.  With this wind, I don’t feel like fighting a range fire today.”

Jake nodded, looking preoccupied.  Finally, she said, “Aw, hell, I don’t remember what that blasted will said you have to do, or what I have to count.”

“I damn well know.”  He recited, “Ben must work the ranch as a ranch hand for three months, including roundup.  He must rope and brand at least one-fourth of the calves, and participate in all aspects of the ranch op
eration.”  He shook his head at
the amateur wording.  “So according to that, I have to rope the calf, jump off my horse while someone else gets on, and brand that same calf.  Then get back on the horse and do it all over again.”

Frowning, she coiled a rope and threw it around the pommel.  “That’s downright stupid.  It’ll take more’n twice as long to get the job done.  Hell, we’d be working out here till the snow flies.”

“Don’t worry yourself about those stipulations, Jake.  Just work me like you’d work any other cowhand.  I’ll take care of the rest later.”

She pursed her lips and stared at him for a moment.  “And if you don’t?  Harley Blacker’s tried several times to run you back to
Boston
--cut fences,
dammed
the creek.  He’d yell like a stuck pig in a gopher trap if you didn’t do just what old Ezra wrote.”

“Don’t say that until you have
solid
evidence, Jake.”

“How the hell much evidence do you need?”  She scowled at him and mounted her blue roan.  “Got your rope ready?  We got to get them critters done up before the boys drive more in.”

She reined her horse toward the herd.  Ben mounted and followed.  Henry and Teddy waved, already mounted and anxious to start.  “You want us to cut you some calves now?” Teddy hollered, spooking the herd.

It took Jake and Ben several minutes to calm the cattle and bunch them up again.  “Did you learn something?” Jake asked the boy.

“Yeah, every thing you do, Ben makes it easier for you, so I guess you mean Homer’n me s’posed to work together.”  He wrinkled his brow and looked at the older boy.  “Ain’t that right, Homer?”

Ben refrained from laughing at Jake’s hornswoggled expression and kept his silence.  Jake got herself into this, he’d like to see how she explained herself.

“That’s right,” she finally answered.  “Cowhands work together like fingers on a hand.”

“See, Homer, I got it right!”

  “But you also got to keep quiet,” she continued, “lest you start a stampede.  If you gotta make noise, sing a soft song.  Otherwise, hold your mouth shut.”

Teddy hung his head.  “Yes, sir.”

“You two cut us out a calf,” she told the boys, “and don’t forget to look at its mama’s brand.”  After they trotted off, she turned to Ben.  “Got your irons ready?”

His iron was ready every time he looked at her.

*   *   *   *   *

Within two hours’ time, Ben had roped, then jumped off his horse and branded, more than two dozen calves.  Crazy Jim castrated them and threw the testicles in a bucket of water.  Ben didn’t look forward to dinner. 
Rocky
Mountain
oysters had held little appeal for him as a youngster, and even less now.

Jake rode up to him as he wiped sweat off his forehead.  “After the noon meal, you can take over the castrating and Crazy Jim will rope.  You’ll be plumb wore out by then.”

He just nodded.  Hell, he’d rather rope all year than castrate one bull calf.  He clenched his legs together, then relaxed before anyone noticed.  That job was one reason why becoming a lawyer in
Boston
had sounded so appealing. 

The rest of the two hours that morning he spent roping, branding, and roping another. And another.  He forgot how tedious ranch work could be, but then realized he felt satisfied with all the work he’d done in a way he’d never felt as a child. 

The operation worked like a machine--the boys cut the calves out of the herd, Ben roped the head, Jake roped the feet.  Then Ben branded it and Crazy Jim castrated it.  Ben remounted and Jim took the ropes off the calf.  Then they did it all over again.  And again.

“Bar EL cows did their job this year,” Jake commented before they roped another calf.  “Not more’n a couple ain’t got calves.”

“Do you intend to cull them?”

She nodded.  “But not till we get them back to the ranch.”

“Hey, Jake!”  Homer waved his hat.  “What do we do with this one?  The mama ain’t got no brand.”

“Bring the cow and the calf over.  I’ll brand it Flying K and mark it down.”

“Why’d you choose that brand?” Ben asked.

Shrugging, she readied her loop.  “The Kampe’s need a new barn.”  As she took out after the cow, she yelled, “Don’t worry,
Boston
, I keep a tally--the Bar EL won’t be cheated.”

“I never thought that, woman!”  Ben tore after the calf and threw the loop over its head.

“Who’re you calling
woman
?”

“You.”

To his surprise, she didn’t answer back--just tossed a pretty loop around the calf’s back legs and stretched him out for Crazy Jim.

A few hours later, exhausted but satisfied, he sat on a log and stared at the plate of beans in his hand.  He’d had better meals.  The noon break came and went too damned fast for Ben considering his afternoon’s task.  Castrating. 

Jim spent half the break running his knife blade over a whetstone.  He sheathed it and handed it to Ben.  “Hook this here on you
r
suspender loop.  It’s sharp--careful you don’t cut yourself instead of the calf.”

Ben’s blood boiled when even Crazy Jim
,
probably not even twenty years old
,
treated him like a child.  He took the knife and mumbled, “Thanks.”

Jake came over to him, taking her gloves off.  “I’ll show you how to do the first one.”

“No need.  This was my job since I was ten years old.  Five roundups.”

Jake’s eyes grew wide.  “
Ten
?”  That’s a mighty dangerous job for a kid.

Ben didn’t want to go into it much.  “I couldn’t rope to suit him, so my father put me to castrating.”

“Shit, no wonder you run off to
Boston
.”

So now she knew.  “The past is past.  Let’s get started.”

Within an hour, he’d nearly filled the bucket.  Unlike Crazy Jim, Ben had hardly any blood on him. 

Jake rode up to him after he released a calf.  “I hate to say this, but you’re pretty damned good.”

With a quick nod, Ben said, “Bring me another one.  Let’s get this done.”

She nudged her horse, but then reined back.  “Ben?”

He looked up. “Yes?”

“The Lazy B’s doing this tomorrow.  You’re riding out.”

“With you?”

Just then, Peter Blacker’s cowhands drove another herd in and Jake turned her attention to him. 

“Move them downstream,” she yelled.  “We ain’t done with the first batch.” 

Looking back at Ben, she said, “Let’s get a move on.”

Watching her rear in the saddle, that’s just what he wanted to do.

*   *   *   *   *

Ben waited as Jake managed to get the strays settled into their bedrolls.  Homer had finally promised he’d never pull Henry’s hair again. 

“Can I ride out with Ben tomorrow?” Henry asked Jake.

“Naw, you rode today.  Teddy and Homer are riding with us.”

The girl’s lower lip quivered.  “But that ain’t fair.  That’s two days in a row that they get to be with him and I don’t.”

Ben walked over and picked her up.  “What’s the problem, Henry?”

“Jake don’t want me to be with you.  She wants you all to herself.”  One tear trickled down her cheek.  “She’s mad ‘cause I’m marrying you and she ain’t.”

He didn’t quite know what to think about that last remark, so he addressed her assignment concerns.  “Yesterday, she told me that everyone takes turns, including her and me.  You and your bro--er, Homer and Teddy will work in camp two days and go on the trail one day.  This was your day on the trail, so tomorrow and the next day you’ll be working in camp.”

“And you worked in the camp today, so you’re on the trail tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I’ll be back in camp day after tomorrow, so we’ll work together on that day.”

“Oh.”  She wiggled to get down.  As he tucked her in, she sneered, “I get him all by myself day after tomorrow.  Ben said.”  She stuck her tongue out and the boys threw pebbles at her.

“That’ll keep them occupied for a while,” Ben said to Jake as they walked away from the children.

Jake sighed.  “Lordy, I hope they go to sleep quick.  It’s been a trial every since we got Henry.”

“The boys will get used to her.  She’s only been with you a few weeks.”

“It ain’t the boys--it’s her.  I never met a more stubborn kid in all my born days--always telling folks what to do, and madder than a polka-dotted snake when they don’t do it.”