On Her Way Home (18 page)

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Authors: Sara Petersen

BOOK: On Her Way Home
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“What are you doing?” he grunted harshly. “Just stay put a second, and I will go get the lamp.”

Ignoring him, she said, “You don’t need to, just let me pass and…”

Jo’s sentence was cut short as Mac stepped to the side and bumped into her again, his wide hands circling her waist. Applying pressure, he ushered her roughly past him in the dark.

Free to continue to her room, Jo swept briskly down the hall backward, whispering apologetically to Mac, “Sorry.”

Mac said nothing, but resumed his path to the bathroom, sliding his feet across the hallway to locate his missing clothing. Once his foot touched fabric, he crouched down, sweeping his hand over the floor, and gathered up the garments in his hand.

In the bathroom, with the razor to his face, he recalled the weight of her soft body filling his palms. He groaned in frustration, thinking ruefully to himself that it was going to be a long ride today.

Mac placed the razor on the shelf above the sink and rested his hands on either side of the porcelain basin. Staring at himself in the mirror, it dawned on him. “The tack room.” He dropped his head below the line of his sinewy shoulders and muttered to the empty bathroom, “That was where Leif should have housed her.”

Chapter Twenty

 

Like the morning of the roundup, the whole crew was already outfitted and saddled before the cocky rooster flew to the top of the coop and squawked its morning “hello.” Charlie glared in its direction, looking like he wanted to kick it across the field. He was exhausted after the late night yesterday, and morning had come all too soon.

“Today should be fairly simple since we’re moving a smaller herd. We are going to drive them straight down the road. Jo,”—Mac peered at her in the darkness—“we need to keep a good pace today. Keep the stragglers moving and don’t let them wander into the trees.”

Jo nodded, for her benefit only since he couldn’t see her in the blackness.

“All right then, let’s move out,” Mac announced, opening the corral gate and trotting General around the circle to drive the cows out. Leif and Kirby flanked them on each side, guiding them to the road, and as the last steer hoofed it out of the corral, Jo followed suit.

The soft hum of summer sang through Jo as the dawning sun finally rose from slumber and breathed its light over the land. Montana was a rugged heaven, with its giant evergreen trees cresting jagged mountain peaks and hiding sky clear lakes. Unique wildflowers and bright green grasses flowed over the ground, their melodious waves of light and color disappearing into wooded forests. This country was like a battery for the soul, charging and energizing the spirit of a person, with its strength and beauty. On mornings like this, Jo’s conscious filled with overwhelming gratitude to the Being who created it. She was so distracted admiring the view that she had to sternly remind herself to pay heed to the cattle.

At midday, they stopped for a brief respite, watering the horses and cattle at the river alongside the road. Jo dismounted and, unstrapping her canteen from the saddle, pressed the cool metal rim to her lips. The water was still cold from this morning, and Jo drank thirstily. She tipped the canteen upright too far and extra water sloshed out of it, spilling into her nose. Startled by the unexpected dousing, she yanked her head forward causing the water to dribble down her chin and over her shirt. Jo glanced around quickly, hoping that no one had seen her inadvertent bath. Of course, she wasn’t that lucky.

Walking over to Jo with a smirk on his face, Mac extended his hand, “Do you mind?” He asked, gesturing for the canteen. Jo handed it over to him. The metal rim pressed against his firm lips, and the Adam’s apple of his thick throat bobbed up and down as he took a long drink. Pulling the canteen away, he capped it and handed it back to her. With mischief in his twinkly eyes, he said, “There. It’s not so full now. Just in case you’re of the mind to drown yourself again.” The cleft in his chin deepened as he tried to hide his smile.

Jo turned red.
Of course, out of everyone here, Mac was the one to see
, she thought vexingly to herself. Lightly whacking him on the arm, she said, exasperated, “Oh, just go ahead and laugh. It’s obviously killing you not to.”

At her permission, Mac broke into a warm chuckle. “Yah, I was thinking to myself…she must have worked up a mighty thirst if she’s going to drink it through her mouth and nose at the same time.”

Jo laughed hard at his witty comment, totally mortified for herself, but seeing how amusing it must have been from his point of view.

Mac watched her turn redder, appreciating the fact that she could laugh at herself. Tears hung on her eyelashes as she folded one hand over the other and held her stomach, as if her chuckling was causing pain.

“Oh, that was ridiculous,” she said matter-of-factly, finally pulling herself together and wiping the tears from her cheeks. Openly admitting how silly she was immediately relieved some of her embarrassment.

Mac nodded his head, agreeing with her, and strode back to his horse, still sporting his swarthy smile. “We won’t be able to stop for long,” he called over his shoulder to her.

Jo walked down to the river where Charlie was skipping stones. Picking up a smooth, flat rock, she chucked it into the water. It sank with one big
plop
. Charlie grinned at her, then, throwing his arm back and forward into a wide arc, sent a stone hopping across the river in nine skips. Charlie never ceased to amaze her. He was one of those people who excelled at everything on the first try, from lassoing a steer to skipping stones to stocks and textbooks; he was a natural learner, not one to battle when she had no chance of winning Jo dropped the rocks she’d collected in her hands and wandered over to Leif and Kirby, who were lounging in the shade under a tree.

“I saw a story in the paper a few days ago that said the Tawny Creek Mine, up Cutter Falls, has shut down,” Kirby commented to Leif.

Leif, casually twisting a blade of grass round and round with his thumb and index finger, peered up at him. “Yep, I saw the same one. It wouldn’t surprise me if our two long lost ranch hands showed up around here shortly.”

Kirby snorted, “Well, if they have a lick of sense, they won’t. Only a stupid animal would chase his own tail twice.”

Leif shook his head, not altogether sure what Kirby meant by that and unwilling to ask. Once, Leif had asked Kirby to clarify something he’d said, and Kirby had told him sharply, “It’s against the rules to try on another cowboy’s hat.” From that time on, Leif had just nodded along with him or stayed silent. There was no point in trying to understand a man who made up words and spoke in riddles.

“Well, stupid or no, I bet they come skulking back, looking for hire,” Leif chawed, sincerely hoping they didn’t. The two ranch hands he’d hired last spring were a pair of rough-looking fellas, but needing the help, he had taken them on anyway. They’d done an all right job riding cattle last year, so Leif had hired them back this spring. Two weeks later, they heard about the Tawny Creek Mine hiring men at double pay, and lit out as fast as they could for copper. Leif had been furious when they up and quit on him, but thinking back on it now, it was definitely for the best. He’d pick Jo and Charlie over those two dodgy characters any day of the week.

Jo sat down on a log, listening to Leif and Kirby. “Why did the mine shut down?” she asked.

Coming up behind her and joining the group, Mac answered her question. “The demand for copper is down. The Tawny Creek Mine tried to go up against the big coppers outside of Butte. They were actually making a go of it. The problem is when you’re a little mine, The Company will let you get settled in, but only until you start cutting into their profits. Then they’ll squash you like a bug. I’m glad I got out of the business when I did.”

“Amen to that, boss,” Kirby added.

Leif had stopped twiddling his grass when Mac approached, noticing he was munching on something.

“Hey what have you got there?” he asked, eyeing the two big cookies Mac was holding in his hand and the one he was biting into.

Mac glanced down at his hands as if he didn’t know he was holding anything and played the dummy. “What are you talking about?”

“Pfft, I’m talking about those cookies you’re holding in your hand. Where did you get those?” he inquired eagerly.

Ignoring him, Mac finished the first cookie with a big gulp and started on the second, brushing his hand across his pant leg to get the extra sugar off. Jo played along with Mac, saying nothing, but secretly tickled that he was enjoying them and at the same time making Leif drool. Mac finished his second cookie as Leif stared intently at the last one, like a dog whining at the table for scraps.

“Those really do look good. Seriously, where did you get them?” he prodded.

Mac answered him with a mouthful of cookie, “Found ‘em.”

Leif waited anxiously for him to say more, but Mac just glanced devilishly at Jo and started on his third cookie. If Jo sat here much longer, she was going to give it away by laughing. Rising from her seat, she walked away from the group, with the pretense of stretching her muscles. She stayed within earshot though, enjoying the banter and teasing between Leif and Mac. It reminded her of home and her own brothers.

Scraping the last of the crumbs from his shirt, Mac said, “Well, we’re burning daylight. Let’s saddle up and get these cows moving.” Leif looked crushed, like a little boy who had dropped his ice cream cone on the ground.

When they were all saddled up and ready to go, Jo watched as Mac rode over to Leif. Reaching into his saddle bag, he pulled out two cookies and tossed them easily to Leif, making Leif’s face beam boyishly. They were just like her brothers. They might pretend to tussle, but deep down they were chums. Surely, there is no truer sign of affection between boys than the sharing of cookies.

***

Midday merged into afternoon and afternoon to dusk, when the cowboys and cowgirl finally drove the cattle into the corral at the railhead. Mac had been correct in assuming the drive would be uneventful, not one incident had raised alarm throughout the entirety of the day. When the cattle were all tucked away safe and secure and the horses were brushed down, watered and tethered in a grassy hollow next to the corral, the group shifted focus to their own needs. In the same hollow with the horses, Kirby built a fire and erected a tripod over which hung a large pot of beans. Jo wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of more beans, still full of them from her previous cattle drive a few weeks ago, but food was energy, and she sorely needed some. It boggled her mind how plodding along on a horse for a full day could be so taxing on her physically, but it was, just the same.

Hours spent staring at the rear end of cows today had allowed her plenty of time to think. Jo had received another letter from home a week ago. It contained the happy news that she was now an auntie two times over, but reading between the joyful lines, Mother’s letter had left her unsettled, as if there was less happy news she was concealing. It was a silly notion really, that Jo could somehow decipher her Mother’s tone from a distance of a thousand miles, but the more Jo had thought on it, the stronger her suspicions grew, and those suspicions led her to believe that all was not well regarding Krissy. During the drive today, Jo had written and rewritten a letter in her mind to Ma, hoping to glean more information without prying or arousing suspicion. She was still deathly concerned about revealing any interest in Krissy and Will’s wedding.

Sitting down next to Charlie at the campfire, Jo pulled the pins from her hair, releasing the heavy burden on her neck and letting the long strands cascade down her back. Using her fingers as a comb, she untangled the knots and smoothed it as best she could. The problem with riding at the back of the herd all day was eating cattle dust. Her hair, skin, and especially the back of her neck felt chalky with dirt. While Jo was busy grooming herself, Leif and Mac joined them, taking a seat around the fire.

“Tomorrow at first light, we can drive the cows onto one of those cars, and we should be able to make good time back to the ranch,” Leif told Jo. She was grateful for the information, most of the time being left in the dark with no plans or direction beyond what Mac offered her. From what she gathered, they were only about two miles from town, and as the sky turned darker, lights from distant farmhouses began dotting the horizon, like beacons in the night sky. Jo saw smoke and the flicker from another campfire on the other side of the rail line about half a mile away.

Noticing her gaze in that direction, Mac said, “That’s probably the rail workers, enjoying a night out of doors instead of cooped up in their boxcars. We’ll drive the cattle down that way in the morning.”

What a strange vagabond life railroaders live
, Jo mused to herself, then smirked as it dawned on her that at the moment she was as much the gypsy as they were, sleeping under the stars and living off of beans.

Leif interrupted Jo’s thoughts, “I’m thinking about jumping in the creek after I finish eating. I want to rinse some of this trail dust off me. Is anyone else up for a night swim?” He winked at Jo, directing the question to her.

Surprising everyone but herself, Jo replied, “Actually, I would love a swim.” She shook her hair, sending masses of it rippling around her shoulders. “This mess could use a rinse.” Mac watched Jo’s hair float wildly around her face and shoulders, its heavy ends tumbling around the small arch of her back.

“Well, it’s you and me then,” Leif said enthusiastically, too enthusiastically.
Cool eyes bored holes into him from across the fire, but he countered them with his own daring ones.

Mac gnawed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Leif’s and Jo’s shadows disappear into the night on their way to the creek bank a short distance off. Rethinking his decision, he peered at Charlie. “What do you say, Charlie? You up for a dunk?”

Soothed and sated from his hearty bowl of beans, Charlie was lying back on his saddle, gazing at the stars, perfectly contented and unlikely to abandon his position. He leaned up onto his elbow. “Well, I wasn’t thinking I would, but I suppose….” He glanced in the direction of the creek, visibly uninterested.

Deciding not to bother him, Mac took back his offer, “Aw, never mind, Charlie.”

Happy for the reprieve, Charlie sank back onto his saddle and struck up a conversation with Kirby about astronomy, sailing, and other subjects that Mac couldn’t concentrate on because he was stewing about Leif and Jo alone together, swimming in the creek. Aggravated, Mac shot up from the log he was seated on and huffed off in the direction Leif and Jo had gone.

Kirby and Charlie watched him go. “Too many bulls in the pasture, if you know what I mean?” Kirby hinted slyly, twitching his eyebrows at Charlie. Catching his drift, Charlie grinned widely and dropped back onto his makeshift bed.

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