Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel

by Rebecca Nightsong

  Stinky or not, the stuff was a miracle.

  She crawled into her bedroll, and pulled the warm blanket over her body before reaching for her Bible and her new tiny flashlight.

  Jett was strange. Abrupt at times, nearly to the point of rudeness. But he’d been kind. Maybe Crazy Hoss was right about him. Maybe Jett was a man of actions instead of words.

  He’d actually listened to her. More than she’d given him credit for.

  In the dark, she explored the edge of the blanket. It was some kind of fur skin, with a wool lining sewn on.

  In all her wildest dreams of the Wild West, she’d never imagined she’d be sleeping under fur.

  Within minutes, her body grew warm and her muscles relaxed. Except for the flat-as-a pancake pillow, she was almost comfortable.

  Snuggling deeper, she opened her Bible to where she’d left off last night.

  He leads the humble in what is right, and the humble He teaches His way. All the paths of the Lord are mercy and steadfast love, even truth and faithfulness—

  A loud wolf howl pierced the night, and Marlee froze.

  This was crazy. What was she doing out here in the west, huddled under a bearskin rug with burnt beans in her tummy and wolves prowling just outside?

  She set her Bible next to her knife roll and flicked the flashlight off.

  One thing was certain: she’d need God’s mercy and steadfast love if she was going to survive this.

  And so would the Paycoach family. She squeezed her eyes shut and said a prayer for them.

  And for Jett.

  Somehow, she must have drowsed off during her prayer. The next thing she knew, the sound of the tent zipper yanked Marlee awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  Fern poked her head in the tent. “Wanna borrow my wind-up alarm clock so you’ll be up in time for breakfast?”

  Wow.

  Everybody was in her business, trying to tell her how to do things. Just like at home.

  Well, tomorrow, she’d prove she could handle herself.

  “No, thanks,” Marlee mumbled. She dropped her head back on the flat pillow. “I’m using my cell phone.”

  “Suit yourself,” Fern said.

  Marlee was too tired to zip the tent flaps when Fern left. Besides, it was nice to see the glow of the coals and hear their muffled pops and to let the low voices of cowboys lull her to sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jett couldn’t sleep. He’d tossed and turned all night, eyes burning and unshed sorrow sitting like a full-grown bull on his chest.

  Talking to Marlee about Silas had dissolved something inside. In those few moments, her gentle eyes had soothed raw places in his heart that he couldn’t put words to. But in the dead of night, when the cold crept in, so had the rawness.

  Finally, Jett crawled out of bed and stumbled to the mess tent. It was still quiet in camp when he stirred up the coals, and coaxed them back to life.

  Normally, the camp cook would be up right about now, starting the coffee boiling and getting breakfast on.

  But Marlee had to be plumb wore out. She’d worked hard yesterday. For a city girl. And she’d been a trooper, taking it on the chin when the food was so burnt.

  By evening, she’d about proven to him she might toughen up enough to make it through this thing.

  No harm in whipping up the biscuits, gravy and bacon himself this morning.

  Just this once.

  It was what any good trail boss would do, if that’s what it took to help a greenhorn settle in.

  Besides, she’d lasted longer yesterday than he’d figured she would.

  Chatterbox or not, she’d earned some respect.

  And maybe some slack, too. Because he was a softy, and he’d heard her sniffles last night.

  She’d tried to hide them, but he’d seen how she’d ducked her head over the dishes. Nobody found washing dishes that interesting, unless they were trying to hide tears.

  Then she’d given him such a soft and grateful look when he’d handed her the hot cocoa last night. Those were the kind of looks a cowboy had to be careful of.

  But soft looks or not, the truth was still as stark as ever: Marlee Donovan was still a city girl. There was a good chance she’d wimp out on her first full day on the trail. And it was his job to make sure every person on this cattle drive could carry their own weight.

  He couldn’t ease up on her just because her velvety brown eyes with their long thick lashes made him feel a little weak in the knees.

  Nope. If she wimped out, he’d have to treat her like any other cowhand. He’d have to fire her.

  He couldn’t go easy on her. But there was nothing wrong with helping her get a running start since she was so new.

  Starting with getting the biscuits on.

  Jett was nearly elbow-deep in biscuit dough when Crazy Hoss ducked under the tent flap, rubbing his eyes.

  “Coffee on yet?”

  Jett handed him a mug and then followed the old-timer to the campfire where Fern hunched near the crackling flames.

  Jett set the biscuits on and then squinted at the sky. It was nearly dawn and hungry folks were gathering around the campfire. A couple of cowboys came out of the mess tent.

  Jett frowned. Even Ty was up.

  But not Marlee.

  By the time Jett choked down his flat, dry biscuits, the sun had broken out above the ridge.

  Still no Marlee.

  He didn’t mind making breakfast, but he’d expected her to be up by now. At least make an effort. It was already time to saddle up, and his camp cook had slept through breakfast.

  “Boss,” Crazy Hoss interrupted his thoughts. “You gonna wake up Sleeping Beauty this mornin’?”

  Jett grunted.

  Fern laughed. “Yeah. With love’s true kiss?”

  He glared and pulled his hat brim down so they couldn’t see his eyes. Fern and Crazy Hoss were some of his favorite people.

  Even if Crazy Hoss poked his nose into everyone’s business. And even if Fern spread that business all around the county. Crazy Hoss owned the café in town, and Fern was an old cowgirl-turned housewife, turned gossipy beauty salon owner. Neither one of them had been on a cattle drive for over a couple of decades. And they weren’t being paid for this one, either. They’d volunteered when they had heard the Paycoach family was in need.

  Yup, they were good people. But even good people got under the skin when they nosed into his business.

  Jett strode to Marlee’s tent. If he let her sleep too much longer, his cowhands would think he’d gone soft. He’d find them slacking off. Taking naps when they should be flushing out the cattle that were spread out all over the mountain.

  There was no way he was going to let that happen. Especially when the Paycoach family counted on him to hold things together during this time of crisis.

  She’d left the flaps open, and the foot of her sleeping bag stuck out of the tent. She must have scootched down sometime in the night. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was half-eaten by skeeters.

  He nudged her foot with the toe of his boot.

  She stirred, but then a small snore drifted up.

  He nudged her again, harder this time.

  She groaned, and rolled over on her back.

  “Marlee,” he barked, and kicked softly at her foot. Maybe tomorrow, he should hook up an IV and attach Crazy Hoss’s coffee. It was straight caffeine and mud. The smell alone could wake a hibernating bear from ten paces.

  “Marlee.”

  She squawked and sat up, hair wild and face wilder still.

  He laughed. She was cute. Like a disgruntled bear cub.

  She hurled a potato at him, and burrowed back under the sleeping bag.

  He chuckled. She was feisty. He should have known that when she’d assaulted those veggies yesterday with knives flashing. He’d never seen spinach and peppers surrender so fast.

  But feisty or not, Marlee posed a problem. Besides the fact that she’d slept in, a woman who would sleep with
potatoes in her tent didn’t know the first thing about securing food in camp.

  He’d bet his eyeteeth she didn’t know how to put food up to keep it from bears. Besides, there was the signs of rustlers he’d seen on the way up. He couldn’t leave her in camp alone. She’d be a sitting duck.

  Nope. He was going to have to leave Fern and Crazy Hoss in camp with her this entire trip. That meant he’d be down another team of wranglers.

  He wrinkled his nose as a strong odor wafted toward him from her tent.

  He grinned. She had used his muscle rub.

  Maybe he’d let her sleep in a bit longer after all. But only because he didn’t want to follow Fern’s advice to wake her with a kiss. He imagined her lips tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

  He pressed his own lips together in a tight line.

  Whoa, Jett. Ease up.

  He had things to do. He had a family’s entire livelihood resting on his shoulders. Best he get on the trail and take care of business.

  Moonin’ around Marlee’s tent just because he wanted to see her pretty face first thing in the morning didn’t do anyone any good. Besides, what would he do, anyway, if she woke up and smiled at him?

  Probably stare. Wouldn’t be able to squeeze a single word out.

  Yup. He was one smooth cowboy, all right.

  If anybody could make a fool out of himself without saying a single word, it was Jett Maddox.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Marlee stretched and rubbed her eyes. They felt gritty after the dusty ride yesterday.

  She was going to have to teach Jett some manners. She did not appreciate his little practical joke. Waking her in the middle of the night. What was that? Some kind of western hazing?

  But then she smelled bacon.

  Wait. What?

  She grabbed her phone, a groan dying on her lips.

  Dead.

  No. Her phone never died. She’d bought one with an extra-long battery life on purpose, and it had a full charge when she went to sleep last night.

  But her heart sunk to her frozen toes as she squirmed around and jerked her boots on. It had to have been the cold that drained her battery so fast.

  Wishing she were dead wouldn’t help. But it gave Marlee’s brain something to distract her from the stiffness in her body as she crawled out of her tent and tried to stand.

  She stumbled toward the fire where Crazy Hoss and Fern sat with coffee in hand.

  “Mornin’ sunshine.” Crazy Hoss grinned, his gray whiskers bristling with almost as much cheer as his eyes. He handed her a steaming mug.

  Marlee took two gulps of the bitter stuff and squeezed her eyes shut to keep them from falling out. She’d heard tales of cowboy coffee, but had assumed they were exaggerations.

  They weren’t.

  But she was in desperate need of caffeine. She’d slept deeply, but was so groggy by the time the sun came up, she’d hallucinated throwing a potato at someone.

  She couldn’t tell if the grogginess came from the cold fresh air, or if it was a side effect of the ointment Jett had given her last night. Then again, it could be from sleeping on a bag of potatoes. The pillow Jett had left with her bedroll was as flat as a Kansas prairie. She’d had to get up in the middle of the night and look for something to put under it. The only thing she’d found was a bag of potatoes.

  “Jett and the boys went on ahead,” Crazy Hoss said. “I’m gonna help you get camp torn down and move on.”

  “Move on?” Marlee scowled.

  “We’re about halfway to our main campsite,” Crazy Hoss said. There’s not enough firewood here to keep us going for a month.

  Marlee gulped.

  A month. Jett had told her it would be a month, but she was hoping that was another cowboy exaggeration.

  Turns out, it wasn’t.

  “Normally, the chuck wagon cook has to clean up and tear down alone,” Fern said. Her eyes shone like that was the best tidbit of gossip she’d come across her whole life. “Prep for supper, pack up the gear, and harness the horses.”

  “Alone?” Marlee squeaked. She didn’t know the first thing about harnessing horses. And she wasn’t crazy about the idea of being left alone with hungry bears prowling the area.

  “Yup.” Crazy Hoss grinned.

  Fern leaned forward. “But Jett told us to stay behind.” She waggled her eyebrows at Marlee.

  “Said ya might need our help,” Crazy Hoss said. His grin was so big, all her groggy brain registered were teeth and whiskers.

  Marlee glared and stabbed at her biscuits.

  “Like a hole in the head,” Marlee muttered under her breath. Jett had already told her the ranch was short-staffed. He must really think she was incompetent if he’d kept two of his cowhands back at camp to babysit her.

  And she couldn’t blame him, because she had slept in this morning…slept right through her first breakfast shift. Whatever she had to prove as a city girl now just got a double helping added. Now, she had to prove she wasn’t a lazy cook who slept in all the time.

  Crazy Hoss stood up and lumbered toward the chuck wagon where he started untying the canvas spread over the makeshift dining area.

  “If I were you, I’d stretch my muscles some,” he threw over his shoulder. “Sore muscles can make a body awful cranky.”

  “It’s not the sore muscles making her cranky,” Fern crowed. “I think it’s a handsome cowboy.”

  Marlee bit her tongue. Lashing out at the people who were helping her wouldn’t earn her any favors. “That’s not how I’d describe him,” she grumbled.

  “Who, dear?” Fern asked.

  “Jett.” Marlee wanted to stuff his name right back into her mouth the moment it slipped out. Yup, she’d stepped right into the older woman’’s trap.

  Fern’s eyes gleamed. “So you do think he’s handsome. And can you believe such a handsome cowboy is single?” She patted Marlee’s knee. “Did you know he’s the only cowboy in these parts with just that one killer dimple?”

  Marlee blinked. Did the woman ever stop with the matchmaking?

  She glanced at Crazy Hoss in a silent plea for help, but the man’s eyes gleamed behind bushy brows as he rolled and tied canvas. He was enjoying this too much to stop Fern. It was up to Marlee to change the subject.

  And the way she’d let everyone down that morning was the first topic that came to mind.

  “I set my alarm clock,” she said. “But the battery went dead.”

  “Don’t you worry none,” Crazy Hoss said. “Jett fried up the bacon himself this morning.”

  Marlee groaned and covered her face with her hands.

  “It ain’t all bad.” Crazy Hoss patted her awkwardly on the back. “It don’t hurt him none to be a cowhand and camp cook at the same time. Back in my day, every camp cook was also a good cowpoke. Most outfits needed him to be in the saddle when he wasn’t slingin’ flapjacks.”

  Marlee sat up straighter. Maybe there was a chance to redeem her pride after all.

  “But not all cooks go out on the trail, honey,” Fern said. “So don’t you worry.”

  “But some do?” Marlee asked.

  Crazy Hoss nodded.

  “And the ranch is short-handed,” Marlee said slowly.

  Fern nodded.

  “And I’ve told you I can ride,” Marlee said. She chuckled and hopped up to grab a plate of pancakes. “So I guess that’s settled.”

  Crazy Hoss stared. Then he threw his head back and laughed, his whiskers jutting out.

  “You sure about that?” Fern shook her head. “You know pride goes before a fall. And the fall off a horse’s back is a lot rougher than it looks.”

  “You’ll have to talk to Jett,” Crazy Hoss said. “He decides who rides and who don’t.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Marlee smiled. “I’ll show Jett what I’m made of.”

  “If he don’t turn you down flat,” the old man chuckled.

  Marlee grinned.

  Yeah. Jett wouldn’t like the idea. But she stil
l had to give it a shot.

  If a man could cowboy in the day and cook in the evenings, so could she. She’d just have to get creative.

  And get almost no sleep for the next few weeks.

  And get the most frustrating man in Big Sky country to say yes to her half-crazy idea.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The next morning, Marlee rose early, thanks to Fern’s wind-up alarm clock.

  She had the fire going, biscuits on and bacon already sizzling before anyone woke.

  Marlee stepped a little outside the perimeter of firelight. If she followed the line of the makeshift corral that the men had put up for the horses, she’d reach a lookout point. Maybe as the sun came up, she could get a glimpse of the lake everyone in town talked about. Looking Glass Lake should be nestled down in the valley, and she couldn’t wait to see it.

  Jett had told her it glowed with light, reflecting a brightening sky even before the sun came up. And last night, Crazy Hoss had told the legend of the Native American chief the lake was named after. Chief Looking Glass had lived his whole life working for peace, but then had died in war.

  Crazy Hoss had said that according to legend, if a person peered into the lake long enough, they would find their real identity staring back at them.

  If she looked into Looking Glass Lake now, she’d most likely see her sister’s faces staring back at her.

  What it would feel like to be free of the expectation to be like her sisters?

  The verse she’d read that morning in Galatians floated through her mind.

  Each person should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else.

  Well, that’s why she’d worked so hard to get through culinary school. And it was why she’d come out west. It was time to stop trying to be someone else. It was time to just be Marlee Donovan.

  She tipped her head back to look at stars so close she wanted to reach out and touch them. She gulped in air so sharp it nearly sliced her lungs in half. It was like a crisp sorbet. She didn’t know air could be so fresh, but still be packed with so much scent.