Song of Her Heart (6 page)

M
ason wasn't in sight when Norah reached the Flying K, but a burro was tied to the hitching post in front of the house. A metal tripod, gridiron and bulging saddlebags were secured to the burro's harness. Deciding Mason must be preparing for their outing, Norah sat on the porch and enjoyed the song of the meadowlark that warbled lustily from his perch on a fence post. A grayish-brown prairie hen led her small brood of chicks across the yard, teaching them by example how to feed on the insects and plants.

Mason was obviously a good steward of his property, for the buildings were painted, the ground was free of debris and the fences were intact and sturdy. The fence around the corral interested Norah, for on
each post, there was a worn-out pair of cowboy boots. Buster, the bull, grazed inside the corral, and once he looked toward her and bawled.

“Don't bawl at me,” she said in mock severity. “I'm still mad at you for causing me to wreck my car.”

Chewing on a juicy morsel of grass, Buster bawled again, long and loud, and Norah's mouth curved into a smile. She would never forget Buster's welcome to the Flying K.

Soon Mason emerged from the barn, leading two saddled horses, and Norah eyed the animals warily as he approached.

“Ready?” he said, a wide smile breaking across his bearded face. He tugged on Norah's hand, encouraging her off the porch.

“I'm not sure,” Norah said uneasily.

Mason told her that her mount would be the small palomino with a golden coat and silvery mane and tail. He would ride the brownish quarter horse. As Mason spoke fondly of the two horses, and detailed their capabilities, Norah reached out a tentative hand and stroked the palomino's flanks.

“You have nothing to be afraid of,” Mason promised her. “I've been weeding out my tamest mounts and taking them to the Bar 8, and following instructions from the H & H, Doug has been exer
cising them for the children when they come. But the palomino is gentle, too.”

“I've learned all of my ranch lore from Wild West movies,” Norah said nervously, “where the horses all seem to be bronco-busting animals. And where city slickers are sometimes given a bucking horse to test their mettle.” She turned solemn blue eyes toward Mason.

“I wouldn't put you on an animal like that,” Mason assured her. He was eager to introduce Norah to his way of life in a manner that would make her love it as much as he did.

Recognizing his sincerity, Norah touched his forearm. “I know you wouldn't, Mason. I was joking with you. I'm a slow learner, but be patient with me, and I'll soon catch on.”

Mason assessed her clothes. “It might have been wise for you to bring a coat, but I have a couple of blankets on the burro if it cools down.”

He wore a blue flannel shirt, heavy blue jeans and a suede vest, looking every bit the cowboy of a century ago.

Mason motioned her toward the horses, and put his hand on the mane of the palomino. “This is Daisy,” he said. “If you like her, she can be your personal mount while you're here.”

When the mare turned soulful, liquid eyes in her direction, Norah felt as if she'd made a new friend.

Mason lifted the bridle. “This serves the same purpose as the steering wheel on your car. The metal part of the bridle, called a bit, fits in the horse's mouth. The reins, these long, narrow leather strips, are attached to the bit. If you want the horse to turn left, you gently pull the reins in that direction, and so on. But tonight, don't be concerned about that. Just concentrate on staying on the horse. Daisy will follow me.”

Norah touched Daisy's long nose, and the mare tried to nuzzle her fingers.

“She likes apples,” Mason said. He took a red apple from his pocket and extended it toward Daisy. She mouthed the apple and started chewing.

“Always mount a horse from the left side,” Mason continued, illustrating as he talked. “Take the reins and the horse's mane in your left hand and put your left foot in the stirrup.” He indicated a wooden, flat-bottomed ring. “With your right hand grab the back of the saddle. Spring up, swing your right leg over the horse's rump and switch your right hand to the pommel of the saddle here in the center. Sit easily in the saddle and put your right foot in the stirrup.”

He mounted the horse with a swift, graceful movement. The blood rushed to Norah's face, and she gasped in admiration of his powerful body.

Dismounting, Mason looked at Norah quickly, ap
parently thinking his instructions had caused her confusion, for he hastily said, “It takes practice to give you self-confidence, so I'll help you this time. Eventually, horseback riding becomes as natural as breathing, and you won't even think about what you're doing. Lift your left foot to the stirrup, and I'll boost you into the saddle. Ready?”

It seemed like a long stretch to the stirrup, but when she managed to reach it, Mason put his hands around her waist and smoothly lifted her into the saddle. His touch was electrifying! The warmth of his hands seemed to sear her flesh through the heavy layers of clothing. She wished she wasn't so sensitive to Mason's masculine appeal. She excused her reaction by reasoning that she hadn't been exposed to much male company, especially to a man as vibrant as Mason.

She tucked her foot into the other stirrup, as if she'd been riding horses all of her life. But when she picked up the reins, and looked down at Mason, it seemed a long way to the ground.

Mason watched her with something akin to awe. How could she have gladdened his heart so much in a few days? If she'd perked up his life already, what effect would she have on him after three months of seeing her almost every day? But regardless of the consequences, he couldn't remember when he'd
ever anticipated a summer with more gladness of heart.

Mason checked the stirrups to be sure they were adjusted for Norah's legs. “Are you comfortable?”

“Not very,” she said with a laugh, “but it's more emotional than physical.”

“Ride beside me, and if you have any problem, say so.”

He hooked the leading string of the burro to his saddle and mounted his horse with agility and ease.

Again, Norah admired his graceful movements, wondering if she'd ever be that confident on a horse.

“Hold your reins loosely and let Daisy take care of you,” he instructed. “Don't sit so rigid. Relax, and let your body move with the horse. Before your duties start with H & H, I'll teach you how to saddle Daisy and how to care for her.”

“Seems like there's a lot to horseback riding,” Norah said ruefully.

“If you ride every day, you'll soon learn.”

“But I won't have time to ride every day.” As the horses moved forward, she told him what she'd learned from the Omaha office. “I've already started preparations.”

The wind ruffled the manes of the horses, and Norah's hat blew off before they were out of sight of the ranch buildings. Mason jumped off his horse to retrieve the hat. He sprinted after it, but when he
stooped to pick it up, a stronger gust of wind boosted it several yards beyond him. When it landed in a small lake, Norah called, “Don't bother with it. It's an old hat.”

Thankful she'd thought to bring the scarf, Norah wound it around her head.

“That wasn't much of a hat for a range woman anyway,” Mason said when he was in the saddle again.

“Is the wind always like this?” she asked.

“No. Most of the time it's a lot stronger.”

Norah glanced at him, and she knew he wasn't joking. She'd need to buy a hat that tied under the chin like the one Mason wore.

They rode through waving grass that brushed the horses' bellies. On the half-hour ride, Norah enjoyed seeing the prairie at close range. The velocity of the wind blew the grass in surging green waves, and it was easy to believe that they were riding on the ocean. She understood why Mason preferred to ride a horse, for this was an easier way to enjoy the serenity of the grasslands than by riding in a vehicle.

The wind swept the words from her mouth as she called, “Why is this area called the Sand Hills?”

“In prehistoric times, the smooth contours of the prairie were made by sand transported here by the wind. Then grasses took root. We don't get much
rainfall, but there are vast deposits of water in the porous rocks beneath the surface.”

He motioned to a water tank, with a windmill towering over it. “We have lots of water if we dig for it, and with so much wind, we have a constant supply of water for our cattle.”

Mason had been watching Norah closely, and near the end of the ride, he asked, “Getting tired?”

“My legs are kinda numb, and my back hurts.”

“You're sitting too stiff, but you'll soon get over that. Blend your body into the horse's movements. It won't be much longer. We stop at the next coulee, where we'll be out of sight of the security light at ranch headquarters. I want it to be completely dark when the moon comes up.”

“I saw the moon from my window at the Bar 8 last night. Living in a city, I didn't often see the moon. It was a wonderful sight.”

“Wait until you see the moon rise tonight, and you'll really be impressed!”

The coulee was bisected by a small stream, with numerous plum bushes on its banks. A few plum blossoms remained, giving the area a sweet, spicy scent.

“We'll have our supper down here where it's not so windy, but we'll go to the crest of the hill when we look at the stars. The breeze calms down after dark.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Not a thing. You're my guest tonight.” He loosened the horses' reins and staked them several yards from their campsite. Norah sat on the ground and watched in admiration as Mason prepared their meal. He built two fires. Over one, he set a tripod, opened a large can of baked beans, poured them into a smoke-covered pot and hung it over the flames.

He set a gridiron over the second fire, on which he arranged two thin-sliced steaks and placed a coffeepot directly in the coals.

“Do you cook like this often?”

“No, but my friends and I camp out when we go on hunting and fishing trips. It's a satisfying feeling to catch a large trout and have it frying in the pan in less than an hour. I suppose you don't fish, either?”

She shook her head negatively, but her eyes glowed with mirth. “Sorry I'm such a disappointment to you. Remember, I only gave you my credentials as a cook. I can cook and do fine needlework. Not much else.”

“Oh, that's okay,” he hastened to assure her. “I wanted to find out how I can entertain you this summer. Since you have weekends off, I want to show you around this part of the country.”

“I learned today that I'll have the first week of July free, too, so I can help with the gathering at
your ranch in July.” She stood awkwardly. “I'm going to walk while you finish. My legs are stiff from riding.”

“Don't go far. The food is almost ready. Besides, there are rattlesnakes in some of these canyons.”

She stopped abruptly. “You've said the magic word—
snake.
I've decided I don't need a walk.” She did a few simple stretching exercises to loosen her muscles until Mason said the food was ready.

The campfire had laced the meat with a pungent, smoky taste, and Norah commented to Mason that she'd never tasted any food that was more satisfying. “So you've introduced me to another new experience. Thanks.”

His smile sent her pulses racing. “We'll plan other cookouts before the summer is over.”

He produced slices of carrot cake from the saddlebags, and when Norah took her first bite, she said, “This didn't come from a deli!”

“You're right, but I didn't make it, either. Sheila's mother bakes cakes and pies for me occasionally, and she wraps portions for the freezer. I took this from the freezer this afternoon.”

“You have good neighbors.”

“Sure do. Settlers in the Sand Hills depended on their neighbors, and it's become our way of life. That's one thing that hasn't changed since my great-grandfather homesteaded here,” Mason reminisced
as they ate. “In the early days, everybody avoided the Sand Hills because there weren't many trees, not much rainfall and anyone who tried to farm this land failed. But my ancestor brought a herd of cattle from Texas and turned them loose to graze on the lush grass. They multiplied. When it was discovered that there was so much water underground, and that all you had to do was dig a well and put up a windmill, my father started irrigating. With the hay and grain we raise now, ranching is more profitable and much less risky than it once was.”

Norah relaxed, listening to the soft tone of Mason's voice. A pair of ducks flew overhead, probably heading for the small pond that had claimed her hat.

“The Kings haven't been very prolific,” he continued in a pensive tone. “My father was the only child of my grandparents who lived to adulthood. I'm an only child, and now that I have no children, the King line has about run out. I don't know what will happen to the ranch when I die.”

“Pardon me for being nosy, but why haven't you married?” She almost gasped at her own audacity. Her face flushed, but Mason didn't seem to notice.

She thought that he was everything any woman could want, and was shocked to realize how many of her waking hours were spent thinking about Mason. Why was she so sensitive to this man's masculine appeal? Again, she wondered if Sam had
characterized her correctly when he'd dubbed her a foolish old maid.

She received another shock when Mason said, “I was married, but it isn't a period of my life I like to talk about.”

“Oh, I'm sorry I asked. Please forgive me.” She was surprised at the raw, naked pain reflected on his face.

“No, it's all right, Norah,” he said slowly as he stood and scattered the coals of the fire. “I want you to know, but we'll talk about it another time. Right now, I need to pack the equipment so we can reach the hill before it's dark. I want you to experience the full pleasure of having night fall around you.”