The Rancher And The RunawayBride: Part 2

by Susan Mallery

  She turned off the disposal and rinsed her hands. When she turned around, Tex was standing behind her, the kitten still in his arms.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said awkwardly.

  “Yes, you did. I can’t blame you. You don’t know anything about me, right? Who knows what secrets lurk in my past. You’re being cautious, and I’m sure Brady appreciates that.”

  She walked out the back door and headed for the barn. Maybe she should just leave. That would solve everyone’s problem. Except she’d promised herself to stop running. She wanted to grow up enough to stay in one place and find solutions. But did it have to hurt this much?

  “I thought I’d found a home here,” she told Pokey as she paused to bend down and pet the pregnant tabby. “You did. Life is complicated, and I want it to be easy. Pretty stupid, huh?”

  The cat purred in response.

  Maybe there was a bright side. Maybe Tex was concerned because he’d sensed interest on Brady’s part.

  “Wishful thinking,” she muttered. Brady’s platonic hug and kiss on the cheek last week weren’t the actions of a man smitten by overpowering passion. He’d been attentive yesterday in town, but she suspected he’d been motivated by guilt. He’d needed to make up for her having not been off the ranch since her arrival. It wasn’t personal.

  Randi straightened and glanced around the yard. All she’d wanted was to fit in. She didn’t deserve to be made to feel she was less than everyone else. She didn’t—She frowned, her attention shifting from her personal problems to the yard. “Something’s wrong,” she said softly.

  She took a step back and turned in a slow circle, trying to take everything in. The barn doors were open, as they should be. A couple of the mares grazed in the pasture behind the bunkhouse. The main house looked fine. There were cats scattered all around. None of them looked alert or cautious. They were just dozing.

  She snapped her fingers. That was it. The cats. They weren’t neatly herded together, resting in the shade of the barn. Odd behavior, because Princess usually kept them under control. But the shepherd was nowhere to be seen.

  “Princess,” Randi called. “Princess, come here, girl.”

  As she waited she tried to remember if she’d seen the dog at all this morning. There had been the usual frenzy when she’d fed everyone, but she didn’t recall seeing Princess.

  She jogged around the barn, then checked up at the main house. There was no response to her repeated calls. Something wasn’t right. Something had happened to Princess.

  Wishing there was someone else to tell besides Tex, Randi hurried toward the bunkhouse. She stepped into the kitchen. Tex stood at the sink, peeling potatoes.

  “I can’t find Princess,” she said. “I don’t remember feeding her this morning. Have you seen her?”

  “No.” The older man frowned. “She keeps a regular schedule and doesn’t usually go missing. Unless she’d found a sick cat on her route. Then she’ll stay by the animal until help comes.”

  “Or she could have been hurt herself.”

  Tex nodded. “That’s a possibility. Brady’s the only one who knows all her spots. You’ll have to go get him. Cell service is spotty where he is.” He crossed to the built-in butler’s pantry on the far side of the room and pulled open a drawer. There was a pad of paper on top. After grabbing it and a pencil, he returned to the table. He spoke as he drew.

  “Take one of the horses. It would be faster to drive there, but you’ll need a horse to find Princess. She doesn’t keep to the main road all the time, and I doubt any of the trucks would make it on that rough terrain. Brady’s working north of here. It’s about four miles.”

  He gave her the map and detailed instructions, then ordered her to wait. Two minutes later he returned with a cell phone, a couple of blankets and a first aid kit. “Just in case,” he said, pressing the supplies into her arms. “If she’s hurt and you don’t think you can bring her back, call and I’ll drive the truck out.”

  “Okay.” She paused, wondering if she should say anything about their previous conversation, then figured it didn’t matter. Not now.

  Once in the barn, she quickly saddled Casper, grateful the strong, gentle gelding hadn’t been taken out to work that day. He was the horse she’d ridden the most. She trusted him.

  After loading the saddlebags, she studied the hand-drawn map for a minute. First she had to find Brady, then they had to locate Princess. She sent up a quick prayer that the dog was all right.

  * * *

  Brady studied the dozen steers in front of him. It always came down to the last few. Making a decision about a couple hundred seemed easier, somehow. He was gambling—trying to put together the right elements without having all the facts. He had to have enough hay to feed the cattle he kept until spring. How much stock, how much hay, how long would they be able to graze, how long the winter? Guesswork, all of it.

  Ty sat on the horse next to him and waited patiently for instructions.

  “Hell,” Brady muttered. “Keep ‘em.”

  “Yes, boss.” The cowboy turned to give another man instructions, then glanced over his shoulder and pointed. “We’ve got company. I think it’s Rita.”

  Brady frowned and raised his binoculars. Ty was right. Rita rode toward them. This wasn’t a pleasure call; her expression was too tense.

  He dropped the small but powerful binoculars back around his neck and urged his horse forward. His gelding broke into a trot, then a canter. He met her on a grassy slope.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Maybe nothing,” she said, her words coming in gasps as she tried to catch her breath. “Princess is missing. I can’t remember if she was at breakfast this morning. I know I haven’t seen her all day. Tex said you knew her route.” She reached behind her and patted the saddlebags. “I’ve got blankets, medical supplies and the cell phone. Just in case.”

  He nodded, then motioned Ty over. Quickly he explained the situation. “Take the herd east,” he said.

  Ty’s dark eyes clouded with concern. “I know what to do, boss. Just go find the dog.”

  “We will.” He glanced at Rita. “You doing okay?”

  “I’m fine. I hope this is a false alarm. She’s probably fine. I’d hate to take you away from your work for nothing.”

  “You were right to come get me. Princess always keeps to her routine. If she’s not at the barn, something’s wrong.”

  He tapped his horse with his heels. The gelding broke into a trot. Casper fell into step beside him.

  “You’re welcome to head back home,” he said. “Even if she’s hurt, I can handle her on my own.”

  “No. I want to come with you. I feel terrible that I didn’t notice her missing before. If she’s injured—” She shuddered.

  “Princess isn’t your responsibility, Rita. I appreciate that you thought to keep track of her at all. It’s going to be fine.”

  He spoke the words calmly, but there was a knot of worry in his gut. In this terrain, anything could have happened to the shepherd. There were feral dogs, rattlers, flash floods, old wells. Princess was smart, but that wasn’t always enough.

  An hour later they crested a slight rise. Below them was the four-lane highway. “Her path parallels the road,” he said, pointing to a narrow track that cut through the brush. “There isn’t room to travel abreast. You’ll have to ride behind me.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Look out for any kind of movement or tracks leading off. Also, we’ll alternate calling for her. If she’s conscious, she’ll bark back.” He turned his horse toward the path.

  “Brady, I’m scared. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile, one that belied his own tension. “She’s a tough old girl. She’ll be fine.”

  Rita bit down on her lower lip. “I hope so.”

  Oddly, her concern eased some of his worry. As if the burden was lighter because it was shared. Since his folks had started travelin
g five years ago, he’d been solely in charge. Often he’d wanted to share his troubles, but didn’t feel he could confide in anyone. The men were his employees. He couldn’t talk to them about each other. Tex listened, but it wasn’t always enough.

  Rita works for you, too, he reminded himself. He knew that was true, yet it wasn’t the same.

  “Princess!” she called behind him. He waited a few seconds and yelled the dog’s name.

  Only silence greeted them, broken by the odd car or two zipping along the highway. They continued to follow the path. Occasionally Brady would stop and use his binoculars to scan the area. Once he thought he saw a flicker of movement, but it turned out to be a piece of sun-bleached cardboard dancing in the warm afternoon breeze.

  The path angled sharply north, heading away from the road. He yelled again. When he would have kicked his horse into a canter, Rita called for him to stop. She tilted her head.

  “Call her,” she said.

  “Princess!”

  She closed her eyes. “There!” she said, pointing east. “Can you hear it? I’m sure it’s her barking.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.” He took a deep breath. “Princess! Come on, girl,” he yelled as loud as he could, then leaned in the direction Rita had indicated.

  A gust of wind carried with it the faint echo of a bark. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  He angled his horse east and gave the animal its head. Five minutes later he slowed to check with his binoculars. A rush of movement caught his attention. “There,” he said, pointing. “In the shadow of those rocks. She’s pacing, but she won’t come. She must have something.”

  They rode closer, then stopped a few feet from the rocks. Princess raced toward them, obviously limping. Brady jumped off his horse and reached for the dog. Her paws were bloody.

  “What the hell?” he growled. “What did you do?”

  But Princess didn’t stay still long enough for him to examine her. She ran back to the rocks and yipped plaintively. Brady saw a small bundle resting against the shade.

  He moved closer. A faint hissing warned him that Princess had indeed found another cat. “Hush, little one,” he said soothingly, taking one step at a time. “It’s all right.”

  The bundle turned out to be a burlap sack. As he bent over it, he saw a white cat nursing five kittens. Their damp bodies and the blood on the burlap told its own story, as did the ragged tears in the cloth.

  “What happened?” Rita asked, coming up to stand beside him. “Oh, my. Kittens.”

  “She just gave birth. Probably this afternoon. Some bastard put her in a sack and left her out here to die.”

  Rita blanched. “That’s disgusting. What kind of person would do that?”

  “You’d be surprised.” Princess came up and nudged his hand. He crouched beside the dog. “You saved her, didn’t you, girl.”

  Princess whined. There were scratches on her face. A deep one in her cheek still oozed blood. He checked her paws. All her nails were intact, although she’d worn away patches of skin in her effort to free the cat.

  “Let me get the first aid kit,” Rita said.

  “Don’t bother. We need to get everyone back to the barn. Once they’re safe there, the vet can come out and check all the cats and Princess.”

  “How are we going to move them? I’ve got the cell phone and we can call Tex to bring the truck, but I don’t think it will make it here.”

  He eyed the rough terrain. “We’d be faster just carrying them back. Did you bring blankets?”

  “Sure. There’s a couple.”

  “Good. We’ll make slings.”

  She walked to her horse. Once there she seemed to be having trouble with the saddlebags. Brady stood up and moved to her. “Can I help?” he asked.

  She shook her head, but didn’t turn around.

  “Rita?”

  “Damn,” she muttered, and got the bags open. She thrust her hand inside and pulled out the blankets, then tossed them to him. “Here.”

  He caught the blankets, but didn’t turn away. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She sniffed, then spun toward him. Raising her chin defiantly, she said, “I’m just being a typical female and dissolving into tears. Ignore me.”

  Just as she said, tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Her skin was smudged, and the moisture left visible tracks.

  “I know it’s stupid,” she continued. “And emotional. I just can’t believe anyone could be so cruel. It’s awful.” She folded her arms over her chest and swallowed. “This is where you tell me I’m too much of a city girl to make it out here.”

  Without stopping to consider it wasn’t a good idea, he slid his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close. “This is where I tell you that you’ll be just fine out here. Big hearts are always welcome.”

  She raised her head and stared at him. “You don’t think I’m a sissy girl?”

  He thought she was beautiful, even red-eyed and dirty. He thought she was compassionate and funny. He thought she had the kind of body designed to drive him to the edge of sanity, but doubted she wanted to hear any of those things.

  “I think you’re special,” he said, and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

  Her smile nearly blinded him. He was forced to turn away so she wouldn’t see the shock in his eyes.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “You’re going to have to carry Princess,” he said. “She can’t make it back on her own. I don’t think she’s caused herself any serious injury, but those paws have got to hurt her.”

  Rita nodded. “Walking in the dirt will only increase the chance of infection, too. But how do I carry her?”

  “With this.” He took the smaller blanket and folded it into a triangle. Then he walked behind her and secured the ends, with the blanket hanging over one shoulder. “She can sit on the saddle in front of you. The blanket will hold her securely so she doesn’t fall off. Can you ride back like that?”

  “Of course. Are you taking the cats?”

  He glanced at the burlap sack and wondered how much blood the mother cat was going to draw. “Yeah.”

  “Be careful. Look at what she did to Princess’s face.”

  “I saw. Get on your horse.”

  While she mounted up and arranged the sling, Brady made a quick call to Tex and explained what they’d found.

  “Get bandages and some of that anti-infection cream we’ve used on her before and call the vet.” He listened to Tex. “The cream’s in the medicine cabinet in the barn. Top shelf. Oh, and get a box for the mother cat and her kittens. Stick it in that rear stall. The empty one. Don’t forget food and water.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Tex told him.

  “Expect us in about an hour and a half.” Brady pushed the End button on the phone, then glanced at the sky. They were going to beat the sunset, but just.

  “You ready?” he asked as he replaced the phone in the saddlebags.

  “Yes.”

  He collected Princess and lifted the dog onto Rita’s saddle. She wrapped her arms around the shepherd. When her horse sidestepped, Brady grabbed the reins.

  “Hold on, boy. Stay steady.”

  Rita secured the blanket around Princess. Fortunately the shepherd didn’t squirm. She flopped against Rita, resting her head in the crook of the woman’s arm.

  “How are you going to collect the cats?” Rita asked.

  “Carefully,” he said, tying the other blanket around him. Even if the feline was the most even-tempered creature God had ever made, her recent treatment, not to mention giving birth, was going to make her hostile.

  Brady approached her slowly, speaking softly. It didn’t help. The cat hissed when she saw him. As he gathered up the burlap sack, she swiped at his hand with her claws, laying open four long, deep scratches. He ignored the blood and the burning.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled the edg
es of the sack together. There was no other way for him to get on his horse.

  Inside the sack, the cat began to howl. Brady mounted quickly and settled the cat into the makeshift sling. Then he carefully released the edges of the sack.

  The mother cat raked his chest with her claws. Her tiny kittens made frightened mewling noises. That distracted her and she shifted to give them room. He tried to help, which earned him another scratch on his already bleeding hand.

  “Is she hurting you?” Rita asked.

  “Not at all,” he muttered between clenched teeth, and lightly kicked the gelding.

  At the first step, the cat dug her claws into Brady’s thighs. He spoke softly, but she didn’t release her hold. Angry yellow eyes glared at him, as if telling him this was all his fault so it was only right that he should suffer.

  With each of them holding animals on their laps, there was no way he or Rita could allow their horses to move at more than a slow, easy walk. The trip home took nearly two hours.

  Everyone was waiting when they arrived. The vet took the spitting mother and her kittens into the barn to make sure they were fine. Ziggy carried Princess to the main house, and Quinn and Ralph took care of the horses.

  Brady and Rita went into the house. Tex was already there, kneeling next to Princess. He had some bandages in a pile, along with disinfectant and a bowl of warm water.

  “There’s cube steak on the counter,” the cook said. “I thought she deserved something special tonight.”

  “I agree,” Brady told him. “I’ll give her water first, though. My guess is she’s been out with that cat since before dawn.”

  Tex pulled the dog up on his lap and supported her with one arm while he dipped her dirty paws into the water. She whimpered. Rita crouched next to her.

  “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. You’re a brave girl. This will make you feel better so that you can get back to taking care of your cats. They missed you today. You would have been so ashamed of the way they lounged over everything. There was no order, no discipline.”