A Leaf in the Wind
Page 9
How should she answer his proposal of marriage? Had she been wrong to think of taking Toddie away from the Burkes? T.K. not only would provide proper care, he would also love Toddie and be a father to him.
She let her tears slide down unchecked as she remembered him kissing her, taking her mouth and ravishing it, making her long for more. Before she had lost all reason, she had torn herself away, and he had let her go. She knew he would never force her.
Awaking, Elise struggled to remember why this morning was important. She was suddenly, frighteningly awake. T.K. had asked her to marry him. To still vicious gossips, he had said, but she suspected it was to be sure Toddie remained at the ranch.
That very day, she would begin work to pay for her boots, and T.K. Burke could like it or lump it. She rammed her arms into the sleeves of a striped cotton shirt and pulled on her pants. Vesper and T.K. would already be up. The Lazy B hands would be eating breakfast. Why hadn't she reminded Vesper to wake her?
With a muffled moan, she remembered how she had taken leave of her senses the evening before. T.K. had put his arms around her, then used the moon's magic to put a hex on her. He had known what she was feeling as surely as if she had told him. She winced, remembering how her hands had dug into the rippling muscles of his back, how she had kissed him with matching fervor. What would she see in his eyes that morning?
Carrying her hat and boots, she tiptoed past Toddie's door so as not to wake him and hurried downstairs. The delicious aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee met her in the hall. She arrived in the kitchen in time to hear T.K.'s laughter and Vesper's chuckle.
"Say it again, Toddie. Say Lazy B."
So Toddie was providing the morning's entertainment. For no good reason, she was angry. "Lazy B? He's barely comfortable with mama."
T.K. searched her face, the smile slowly receding from his features. "Any objections to Lazy B? It's his home."
Just like him to make it an issue, she thought irrationally. "Would it matter?"
"None that I can think of." His eyes never left hers, but when Toddie held out his arms, T.K. handed him to her. "Time to go to work." He tousled Toddie's hair and kissed his cheek. "Bye-bye, Toddie.''
Her words came quickly. "I'll be with you in a few minutes."
He smiled slowly, a lazy grin that fanned out from his mouth. "What did you have in mind?"
Her irritation increased. She might have known he'd forget the bet, but have no trouble recalling what had happened last night. "I begin work today."
"Remember to put on your boots," he said whimsically, looking down at her bare feet.
"Today I start paying for them."
The near smile on his face gradually became a frown. "Forget the boots, Lee. I wanted to buy them for you." He seemed to realize he'd said the wrong thing. "You stay busy around the house and do more than enough to pay for them."
"That's for my room and board. Today I start payment on the boots."
"I said forget it."
She ignored him and gently pinched Toddie's cheek, bringing a smile to the child's face. "Mama won't be here today, baby. Be a good boy for Vesper."
"That boy's always good." Vesper held a glass of milk to Toddie's mouth. "Now prove it, honey."
Elise turned to watch T.K. stalk away. He left no question as to his frame of mind, and she remained aware of his powerful presence several minutes after he slammed the kitchen door. So he was mad. Who cared?
I care, she thought, suddenly despondent.
By the time she arrived at the corral, T.K. was assigning duties. The ten or fifteen ranch hands milling around the corral listened as they worked at odd jobs, mending bridles, limbering up ropes, checking gear. Their horses were saddled. A few were drinking coffee from tin cups.
"Beefy will have the chuck wagon there about noon," T.K. said. "If you haven't already, you can fill your canteens at the windmill."
When she walked into their line of vision, T.K. courteously touched the brim of his hat. "We're about ready to pull out, Lee."
"I'm late for work. It won't happen again."
The men nodded to her. They didn't appear too congenial. She supposed that came from having to put up with a woman daring to try a man's work. She flicked a glance at T.K. "What's my job?"
"You don't have a job, Lee."
To hide her anger, she retied the bandanna around her neck. "You don't seem obliged to keep your word."
He walked toward her, his lips narrowed to a straight line. "My word is good. The wager was made in fun. At least, I thought so. But if it means that much to you, we'll saddle the Drum. I'll find something"
"I don't want just something," she said stubbornly.
T.K. looked around at the cowhands, who were suddenly intent on their work or scanning the pasture. Abruptly, he laughed. "Your pay is at the rate of eight dollars a month, and you'll earn it."
The sun chose that moment to shoot streaks of pink and orange over the eastern sky. The men, following their boss's lead, relaxed and began talking to each other.
Slim emptied his cup on the ground. "Hey, T.K. Who's gonna take care of the horses?"
"Boswell's bringing a kid with him. When they get here, we'll ride up on the north range and run in that herd of horses. We'll corral them a few miles from headquarters, then separate the ones we want to keep. The rest we'll sell."
"The kid's gonna be the wrangler? Has he had any experience with a remoother?"
T.K. shrugged. "I'm leaving the remuda to Boswell. Slim, saddle Drummer. Lee'll be riding with us."
Elise saw the scowl Slim threw her way. "I'll saddle my own horse, thanks." She was determined to let them all know she intended to pull her own weight. It didn't take her long to saddle Drum and lead him around ready to start the day.
Boswell yelled and they all turned to watch the big foreman and a young cowboy emerge from a swirl of dust. The two soon drew up and dismounted. "This here's Donal McCucheon, T.K. He's from Kansas, just across the Oklahoma Panhandle. Says his pa used to run cattle. Says he knows how to take care of horses." Boswell grinned. "Says you won't be sorry you hired him."
Cattlemen had a way all their own, and Elise had the feeling they all understood it and she didn't. She watched them shake hands, then let her gaze slide over the man and his horse and the black rawhide whip tied to the saddle. She remembered her papa's contention that a man had a right to his peculiarities if they didn't bother his neighbor.
The Lazy B crew continued with their tasks, not bothering to look up at the wrangler except to nod when they were introduced. They'd learn soon enough whether the Kansan belonged.
"It'll be your job to see to the horses, Mac," T.K. said.
"Yeah, sure, Mr. Burke."
Mac smiled appreciatively when T.K. introduced him to Elise, and she smiled back. He tipped his hat. "Mornin', ma'am."
She glanced at T.K. She saw his frown and heard the testiness in his voice when he ordered the hands to mount up. He swung into the saddle and trotted on until he became abreast of Boswell. Unsure of where she was supposed to be, Elise followed on his heels.
T.K. and Boswell rode side by side for a while, and except for a quick glance now and then to check on her, T.K. kept his gaze riveted on the pastures and, by his words, assessing the grass and judging the weight of the cattle.
"What's new up north, Bos?"
"Talk around Tascosa says the market at Dodge and Abilene might be gittin' slow."
"You think we should push out ahead with a drive before anything happens?"
"Thought about it."
"Of course, we'd need to secure a market first."
Boswell nodded. "Wouldn't hurt none."
Elise listened, aware that was the way a cattle drive got moving. She lost their next words, but heard T.K. voice what he had told her at the time of his marriage proposal.
"I had planned to leave in a couple of weeks, but I could start earlier."
"They're changing the stagecoach schedule out of Tascosa."
The two men were in agreement. Apparently, no further conversation on the subject was necessary. The foreman sniffed. "Old-timers say winter's coming early this year."
T.K. looked at the sky. "You couldn't tell it today. Of course, August is around the corner."
Twisting in the saddle, he looked back at Elise. She lifted her hand in salute, and he nodded. The new man chose that moment to pull up beside her. T.K. pulled his hat down and faced ahead.
Elise smiled at McCucheon. "We have a nice day."
"You just goin' along for the ride, ma'am?"
"It's my first day on the job."
"Can't imagine a woman pretty as you doing man's work." He looked at her hair. "Reckon I ain't seen hair that color before either. Right pretty like."
Her first thought was that MacMcCucheon wasn't as young as he appeared. His body was thin and wiry. His beard hardly made a shadow on his cheeks, but his eyes were those of a man. "What brought you to Texas?"
"Needed a change of scenery mostly. Someday I'll have my own outfit. I'm thinkin' about San Antone as a likely place to settle. They say it's pretty country. You ever been there?"
"Yes. When I moved to West Texas, we came through San Antonio. That was several years ago."
"You're not married or planning to marry the big boss?"
Catching her off guard, the question jolted her. How should she answer when she hadn't made up her mind? "I'm just a ranch hand." With a smile and a nod, she slapped the reins, urging her horse into a gallop.
After several minutes, she caught up with T.K. "Have you decided on a job for me?"
"It sure as hell isn't shining up to the new wrangler."
Elise blinked rapidly before angry denial sprang to her lips. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you? You've been laughing and talking to that Kansas maverick ever since we left the Lazy B corral. From the minute he saw you, he hasn't had his eyes anywhere else. Hell, Lee, we don't know anything about him. Maybe he's from Kansas. Maybe he's from Oklahoma Territory. And maybe his name isn't McCucheon. Maybe it's" he struggled for a name "Ziggenfuss."
Her face remained blank for a moment before she burst out laughing. "Then I suppose we'd call him MacZiggenfuss from Oklahoma Territory."
Grudgingly, a glint of humor curled his lips. "If you're going to earn those boots, keep to the right and behind the mesquite brush. Boswell and his men will herd the horses through that draw." He pointed with a gloved finger. "If one breaks your way, wave your hat and shout to keep him going straight. Don't leave the shelter of the mesquites."
Elise nodded and rode in the direction he had indicated. Musing over the turn of morning events, she glanced at T.K., riding leisurely toward the canyon. If she hadn't known otherwise, she'd have thought he was jealous of Mac's attentions.
She reined her horse into the spot he'd pointed out and squinted into the sun. It was almost noon, and she was hungry. She heard the men yell and strained to see over the brush. The lead stallion, a great sorrel, ran wildly, piloting the herd up the gulley.
A couple of horses veered toward her. Others followed. She remembered to whip off her hat and wave. In that instant she heard the whir of a rattlesnake. Drummer lunged and reared. Swaying, she grabbed for the saddle horn and too late felt her feet slide from the stirrups. The ground rushed up to meet her, and the last she remembered was a whirling black sky descending to smother her.
Later, her eyes fluttered open. T.K. knelt beside her, cradling her in his arms, his knee supporting her back. He smoothed the hair from her forehead. "Wake up, honey," he urged uneasily.
Her vision slowly cleared, and his hard, chiseled features swam into view. She could see the short stubble on his face, the sweat beading his forehead. Anxiety deepened the jade of his eyes.
Laboring to breathe, she tried to sit up. "I got the breath knocked out of me."
A sharp crack sounded in their ears. Mac's quiet oath accompanied his words. "A damned rattler. Hid in the brush, then headed for his hole." Mac coiled his whip to tie it back on his saddle. "Second one I've seen today."
Elise shuddered, and T.K. tightened his arm about her. "Don't be afraid. Mac's taken care of the snake." He looked up to meet the keen blue eyes of his wrangler. T.K.'s unspoken relief was met with a barely perceptible nod.
McCucheon's gaze shifted to Elise. He touched the brim of his hat and guided his horse up the incline.
She glanced at the cowhands, who had formed a half circle and were watching and waiting. Inhaling deeply, she put out a hand to push herself up. "I need to get to work."
T.K. didn't release his hold. "The Lazy B can spare a few minutes for you to get your breath." And for him to make sure she was unharmed and to feel as if he, and not that damned kid from Kansas, protected her.
"I don't think the men like the way I'm doing my job."
"Out here, a hand is expected to sit his horse."
Angry at the unfairness of his words, she struggled to rise. "I'll try to remember that under no circumstances does a rider fall off his horse."
"You should stay prepared." He helped her to stand, his hand on the curve of her waist. "I'll have Slim take you back to headquarters."
Stunned, she remained motionless a moment, then whirled to confront him. "How many falls did it take before you made a hand?" She threw a dark look at the circle of riders. "Or them? I suppose they were all born with a horse between their knees, and their feet in the stirrups. No doubt they cut their teeth on the saddle horn. And not one ever fell out of the saddle."
She heard a snicker and raised her voice so the men would have no trouble hearing what she said. "This just happens to be the first card of the draw." The hurt inside her became an ache. "And I'm staying for the play."
T.K. knew why he was goading her. She had scared the hell out of him. He wanted her safe at home, where he didn't have to worry about her. "We can't afford this kind of holdup."
She snapped her mouth open in disbelief. "You know that I can ride a horse. I'm good at it."
The cowhands backed out of combat range before breaking into a gallop to gather the horses into a herd. Elise wobbled toward the Drum.
T.K. wanted to ease her climb up the slope, but when he touched her, he recognized her silent protest and withdrew his hand. "I still think you should head back."
She sucked at the blood on the palm of her hand, where a rock had broken the skin. "I hired on."
He watched her adjust herself in the saddle, cram her hat on her head, and click her tongue to Drummer. For all her dusty clothes and disheveled hair, she was in one piece and fascinatingly beautiful. She had scared him bone marrow deep when she had tumbled to the ground. He had watched her lips all soft and trembly while he had run his hands over her, checking for broken bones. Looking at her, he believed what she said. She was tough. He mounted and followed along behind her.
He was aware that his riders couldn't figure why she'd come along to help bring in the horses. Like Slim Alderson, some of them were openly resentful. Those damned boots he should have let her win the horse race. His worry about her had started the minute she had arrived late at the corral.
Women were unruly, hard to understand, and about as predictable as an ornery longhorn. Seeing Lee's slender body molded into those pants drove him half out of his mind, and he suspected the same could be said for his men.
T.K. slapped the brush into the cup, whipping the soap into a rich, stiff lather. The razor, honed to a sharp, flawless edge traveled down his face to cut cleanly through the stubborn, two-day growth of beard. Contorting his face to accommodate the sharp blade, T.K. glared at himself in the mirror. How had he ever let himself be drawn into a wager that would throw the whole rhythm of his ranch out of cadence?
Why couldn't he have told her no when she had insisted on paying for the boots?
She hated handouts. It was in the thrust of her chin and the defiant swish of he
r skirts. He didn't like being beholden himself, so he couldn't fault her. If the Burkes had been inclined to take favors, the Lazy B wouldn't be one of the biggest outfits in the state.
But he had to reckon with his men, and they didn't understand. They were torn between looking after a woman and trying to ride herd on some wild cattle. They talked among themselves, exercising a cowboy's natural need to complain, but some of it was honest-to-God disapproval. Where Lee was concerned, though they tried to hide it, their bellyaching was justified. That didn't include the new man. The horse wrangler silently watched, his eyes keen as a hawk's.
With care born of habit, T.K. carefully wiped the soap from his straight edge and slipped it into the black leather case. He lowered his face to the washbasin and rinsed, then blotted the water from his chin and cheeks.
His ill humor didn't ease. Lee had arrived late the first day. From then on, she was the first hand at the corral. After a few days, he had stopped trying to reason with her.
He raked his fingers through his hair and drew on his hat. On the way downstairs, he buttoned his shirt and knotted the bandanna around his neck. The ranch was gearing up for the fall roundup. Playing nursemaid to a beautiful woman wouldn't fit into the schedule.
God, she was lovely. Through all his chores, no matter how much they needed doing, wild, irrational thoughts of her raced about in his mind. He had seen raw emotion in her face. He had felt her passionate response. His own hungry longing had flared into barely concealed desire. He had wanted to strip away her clothes and grind his hips into hers. It was well that at the last moment, she had torn herself from him.
Seeing Lee in the moonlight, her hair free about her shoulders, her shoulder bare, he had wrestled with the urge to possess her completely. He had not suspected such wild and turbulent passion could be unleashed by holding a slip of a girl in his arms.
T.K. cursed silently. In the light of day, he had only himself to blame. He should stay away from her, but how could he manage that when his body kept sending the wrong signals? The trip to Abilene would provide a separation, and with any luck at all, perhaps he could get his thoughts under control.