Thankful Buck wasn't a woman, T.K. went to get his horse. Once in the saddle, he raised his hand in a farewell salute and spurred the buckskin up the rise. "Women," he muttered. "A man needs a woman on the trail like a longhorn bull needs another set of horns."
Late in the afternoon, Elise stopped in the meager shade of a mesquite grove and traded the saddle for a chance to rest her legs. She turned to search the riders until she found T.K. He must have sensed she had her eyes on him, because he glanced in her direction. After a few minutes he stopped talking to Boswell and galloped toward her.
In one quick motion, he swung to the ground beside her. "Anything wrong?"
Elise couldn't quite look at him. "Giving my backside a respite." She fidgeted with the reins. "I'm not sure what happened this morning."
"Where'd you learn to calculate so fast?"
"Papa always said you had to figure the odds quickly."
"Lee."
"So he taught me," she said, uneasily.
"Look at me."
"It really isn't so hard, once you get the hang of it."
He closed the distance between them. His voice was low and rough. "Look at me, Lee."
She hurried on. "Of course, I didn't learn it right away, you understand. After a while it came easy."
His knuckle slid gently down her cheek, before he cupped her chin in his palm and forced it upward, effectively closing her mouth and forcing her eyes to meet his. "Don't worry about it. Ranch hands aren't too comfortable around women. I'm sure they've never met one before who could figure percentages without a pencil."
"What am I supposed to do? Hide the fact I can read and write?" He tightened his fingers on her shoulders and she twisted away. "Doesn't seem very honest."
"Lee, I'm not asking you to hide behind pretense."
"Then what are you asking?"
"For you to respect a man's place. These hands are accustomed to doing their job, and they do it well. They express themselves with a few words and recognize only one authority the man who hired them. There's no place for bragging or for exhibition."
"And you thought that I was bragging."
"That's just it. I don't believe you thought."
"But they suspected me of showing off."
He gave a dismissive shrug. "Possibly."
"Seems as if I came into this game with a pair of deuces."
"Maybe you'll draw a third," he said complacently.
The shout of a rider caught their attention. "Hey, Mr. Burke. Buffler about a half mile away."
T.K. waved, then swung lightly into the saddle. "I'll ride on. Don't wait around much longer."
"Don't wait around much longer," she mimicked as he rode away. She hung back until he met up with Slim, then she mounted and kneed Drummer in the direction of the men.
Once she was close enough, she veered away and sought an outcropping of rocks. From that point, she could look down on the great beasts in the valley, snorting, snuffling, browsing the short grass. Must have been a thousand! The sight took her breath. Once a longhorn bull shot out of the brush to eye the intruders and paw the ground. He didn't bother the big-bodied monsters, who weren't impressed by his five-foot horn spread. The buffalo grazed south, where only mesquite-studded prairies separated them from the Rio Grande 500 miles away.
Without turning her head, Elise reached back and flipped open her saddlebag. She extracted her tablet and charcoal, and in minutes, she had forgotten all but getting the scene on paper. She drew the buffalo, their humps, thin tufted tails, and black hooves that seemed too small for their big shaggy bodies.
Still smarting from her conversation with T.K., she flipped over a sheet and drew the outline of a buffalo head. Several strokes later she added the eyes, nose, and small curved horns, smudging in the hair last.
Muffled laughter sounded behind her. Elise whirled to look into the face of Mac McCucheon. His mouth twitched in amusement. "Are you sure that's the picture you want to draw?"
She glanced at the sketch, at T.K.'s distorted countenance replacing the broad face of the buffalo. She gave it a long critical look. "The nose isn't quite right."
"I wouldn't say." He chuckled indulgently. "Aren't you a little hard on the man?"
With the perceptive eye of the artist, Elise studied Mac's smile, his blue eyes betraying nothing, his long lashes the enduring envy of any woman.
"He's hard on me."
"He let you come on this ride against his better judgment. You saw what happened this morning."
"You, too, Mac?"
McCucheon shrugged. "Not my problem."
"But if it were?"
"You're very beautiful, Miss DuBois." Dark blue fire lay banked in his eyes. "And there're fifteen men out there with their blood heated up, hungry for a woman. Some of those men act stupid around a female, like a buffalo during rut season."
"I can't help the way I look." She felt the glitter of tears. "Papa used to say you ought to learn all the skills you can." She faltered. ''Then you won't be"
He hesitated then offered softly, "Afraid, Lee?"
Blast. What else did he see? She finished her own sentence. "You won't be running out of chips before the last hand." The wind had loosened some tendrils around her face and she brushed at them in frustration. "I want to learn all I can about cattle, the market, horses everything."
"That's a mighty big order for such a pretty head."
A crushing loneliness assailed her at the unexpected gentleness in his voice. She had nobody, not even a friend, certainly no one she could confide in. T.K. made her feel safe because Toddie was a Burke, but sooner or later, he'd learn the truth and his protectiveness would end.
She looked at the buffalo grazing across the broad sea of grass, the horizon blending with the sky, the cowhands slouching in the saddle. She longed to sketch them. "I suppose it's time to move on." She led her horse up the rise.
By the time Elise and Mac reached the ranch hands, T.K. had reined his horse to better see a rider galloping toward them. "Looks like Anson Thackery's boy, Bos."
Boswell inclined his head. "Shore 'nuf."
"Hey, Mr. Burke. I'm Eli Thackery," the boy said, importance lighting his face. "My pa sent me with a message."
"Sure, Eli. I recognized you. Guess you're thirsty. Get down and get a drink. Got anything to feed a hungry man, Beefy?"
Eli slid off his horse. "Pa said to tell you that the stagecoach schedule out of Tascosa has been changed. It'll be through there on the way to Abilene the day after tomorrow, if'n you're still interested in the cattle market. There won't be another one for a month. Nothing you can count on." He took the food Beefy offered. "Pa said, if you come on now, I'm to ride back with you. If you wait, I'm to stay with you until he comes for me."
With a minimum of motion, T.K. swung around so he could face Elise, then he turned back to the boy. "Let me think a minute, Eli."
An uneasy silence followed, and Elise felt tension build. If T.K. returned with Eli, what would she do? She glanced at the circle of men, grubby with dust and sweat, at Slim and his egotistical grin. He'd be crazy glad to see her headed back toward Lazy B headquarters, she thought ruefully.
T.K.'s gaze went from Mac to Slim, measuring, as if he was making up his mind which one he could spare. The wind swirled a dust devil in their direction, and Elise turned her back. When she looked over her shoulder, Slim was shaking his head.
His plaintive voice sounded above the wind. "Ain't I needed here?"
"You can get her home and get back early in the morning. Might even get here in time to eat Beefy's sour dough with molasses. And, Slim, get her home safely."
He looked at Boswell and nodded, then turned to the men. "You fellas might as well light. We've just had a change in plans."
For some reason she couldn't explain, she glanced at Mac. His face was expressionless. Why couldn't T.K. have chosen him to go with her instead of the boorish Slim?
When T.K. walked toward her, Elise knew he wanted some indication
that she had made a decision on his marriage proposal. She yearned for privacy for them at the moment. How awful to have all the men looking at her when she gave her answer.
Mac chose that instant to lead his horse between T.K. and the cowboys, blocking their view as well as his own. Then he stopped to adjust the bullwhip on his saddle. It was privacy of a sort.
Immobile, she faced T.K. The wind whipped around them, and T.K. moved closer to be heard without shouting. "Guess we'll be parting company for two or three weeks."
He wanted his answer. She sighed. There was no compromising Lady Luck. She wondered what the odds were of the stage schedule being changed again before he got there. "I can see how I complicate matters. I shouldn't have come."
"Right or wrong, that decision was made at the ranch. We've got another decision to make now."
Steeling herself, Elise looked into the depths of T.K.'s green eyes and wished desperately she could be honest and confess all the deception she had woven about herself. Like most women, she would go the limit to make a home for her baby, but she couldn't dismiss the longing to meet T.K. squarely.
"Is the game still open?"
"Still open."
Her heart pounded as she forced the words out. "Then I guess I'll sit in."
T.K. appeared to relax, or did she imagine it? "We can make the arrangements when I get back. We'll invite everybody in the area. Get everything out in the open."
She had the urge to cry. "I'm scared."
With gentle fingers, he tipped her face up and made her look at him. "No need to be," he said softly. "No reason at all. I'll be right beside you."
What could he know of the way she felt? Could he see the tears that threatened to fall? A marriage between a man and woman should have been of the heart because they wanted to belong to each other, not for some dark and devious reason that, if the other knew, would force them apart.
She sighed. "I suppose you're right. The way things are now we're creating a scandal."
He placed both hands on her shoulders and drew her closer. His gaze flickered over her face, lightly caressing. "No scandal yet, but if things continue the way they are, we might."
Elise felt her face grow hot, and she saw amusement crinkle the lines around his eyes. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Then, if Slim's ready, we can leave."
His fingers tightened. "Are you disappointed at having to go back?"
She shook her head, ignoring the urge to touch him. "Not really. But I especially wanted to pay for my boots."
His low chuckle told her he understood. "After we're married I'll take the price of your footwear out of your household allowance."
"And I'll demand a receipt."
A smile split his face before he laughed out loud. "I'd bet on it."
"You'd bet on a sure thing."
Elise knew he would kiss her before he drew her into the circle of his arms. His mouth descended to claim hers. She felt her stomach knot, and she was glad they were hidden behind Mac's horse. When T.K.'s lips touched hers, her eyes closed, and a sweet ache swept over her. As the kiss continued, her strength drained away, and she clung to him. His mouth moved gently over hers, parting her lips.
He breathed deeply before drawing away, still steadying her with his hands on her arms. "To my way of thinking," he said huskily, "that's no way to say good-bye."
She managed to find her voice. "It's time for Slim and me to leave."
Their eyes met for a long moment, and his held a look she couldn't fathom. Was he as staggered by the fire between them as she was? Or was he wondering what the future held for them all?
"I'll instruct Slim to stay with you, Lee, until you get to the ranch house."
"I can't believe I've already lost my job," she said lightly, giving her emotions time to settle down.
"You have one waiting at the ranch house, and soon you'll have more."
She fought the awkwardness that his words produced. "I'm lonesome for Toddie."
His easy smile caressed her. "I miss him, too."
They walked toward her horse, and unmindful of the riders, he lifted her into the saddle. "See you when I get back."
Slim waited for her at a clump of mesquites. He kept his sullen face averted, and when she was almost abreast of him, he rode on, not bothering to speak. She glanced at the early sun and thought it must have been somewhere around eight o'clock. Even by riding hard, it would be dark before they could get to the ranch.
They hadn't traveled far before Elise realized Slim had no intention of talking to her. His sulkiness persisted until well past noon when he reached in his saddlebag and produced jerky, handed some to her, then bit off a piece of his own.
"Thanks, but Beefy sent some food, Slim. It's right here, tied behind my saddle. I'll share."
"Keep it," he said shortly, his voice as thorny as a prickly pear. "I'm used to jerky on a ride like this." He dropped his horse's reins and kicked free of the stirrups to slide to the ground. "We'll rest here a few minutes."
She dismounted and sank down in the skimpy shade of a mesquite tree. "How much farther?"
"We're over halfway. In a couple of hours, we'll be at Frenchman's Crossing." He pointed to a couple of hills rising out of the rolling plains. "That's where we're headed."
Slim's words to mount up came shortly, and they were once more on their way, sometimes following a cow trail, more often just traveling the range in a southerly direction. The yucca, with its sharp serrated edges, grew taller there and cut at her feet and legs. The wind showed no signs of slowing, driving grit and dried grass against her face. Slim returned to tight-lipped silence.
By the time they reached Frenchman's Crossing, the sun hung low in the afternoon sky. They dismounted to allow their horses to drink. The sound of hooves carried on the wind, and Slim motioned for her to lead her horse into a grove of salt cedar.
"Comanch'," he whispered. "They're far enough away. They ain't seen us."
"Where do you think they're going?"
"Prob'ly a scout's leadin' 'em to the bufflers."
"But what about the Lazy B riders?"
Glumness returned to his weathered face, and he took off his hat and scratched his head. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Somebody needs to warn 'em, I reckin."
Elise stared in the direction the Indians had taken. "Could you circle the Indians to get ahead?"
"T.K. said I was to get you to headquarters."
"How much farther is it?"
He calculated and after a few seconds came up with a number. "I'd say five miles. No more'n seven."
"Then I can ride on by myself. I'm not afraid. After all, the savages are more interested in the buffalo."
Slim thought it over, his forehead wrinkling in concentration. "I reckin that's right." He turned back to his horse. "I'll be ridin' then. Go on southeast down the ravine. You'll run into a cow path purty soon. You cain't hardly miss it."
Elise watched him ride away. She pulled her jacket tighter, trying to quell the sudden loneliness. Being alone brought her fears closer, but to quote her papa, life was life and it marched straight for tomorrow. Eerie and desolate, the howl of a coyote sounded in the distance, and she quickly mounted.
She tried not to think of how near the sun was to the horizon, nor how much darker it would be along the cliff and in the breaks. With a nudge to his flank, she urged Drum into a trot.
By the time she reached the cliff, the shadows had lengthened. She tried to keep her mind on T.K., how he had looked at her before he kissed her good-bye, what she would say about sleeping in the same bed with him after they were married.
The salt cedar parted and a leather glove reached for Drum's reins, at the same time a rough hand grabbed her wrist and dragged her from the saddle.
Two men loomed over her, laughing.
They tore at her shirt and pants. They pushed at their chaps and breeches and at each other, one snapping at his companion to hold her. Their unwashed bodies smelled of sweat and fil
thy clothes. Their foul breath sickened her.
When Elise wrenched loose, grunting and cursing, they dragged her back, her struggles exciting them even more. She fought them, kicking out with her boots, aiming at vulnerable spots, sometimes connecting.
With crushing strength, one lunged forward onto her body, pinning her beneath him, his ugly questing mouth directly above hers.
She fought his face, spitting and twisting, trying to bite him. Rocks ground into her back and buttocks. A rough hand grasped her breast. Another reached between her thighs.
"Stop fighting, gal. We gonna show you what you been missin'."
The other had backed away. "I'll set myself over here by this log, Pinkston. But don't take all day. I'm gettin' to be in a hurry. It's been so long, I damn near forgot what it's like."
When the one called Pinkston raised himself to reach into his pants, Elise screamed in fury and horror. Leering, he held his sex in his hand like an ugly weapon.
In desperation, she clawed handfuls of sand and threw it into his eyes, then gouged into the sockets with her fingernails.
He covered his face and, howling and cursing, rolled to one side. She pushed him backward, scrambled to her feet, and ran. Panic carried her toward the ravine, where she staggered gasping and sobbing over sandstone rocks. Her ankle turned and she fell to her knees. Despair gripped her. She had reached a dead end.
The hide hunters were quick to recognize her dilemma. Their raucous laughter echoed along the bluffs.
"You can go first, Yardley," Pinkston offered magnanimously. "After all, you seen her 'fore I did."
"Worse than animals," she whispered, gritting her teeth in hate and fury. With a rock in both hands, she whirled to face her pursuers, prepared to fight as long as she had breath or consciousness.
They continued to yell at each other as they struggled over the rocks. Yardley's voice sounded above the other. "She's T.K. Burke's fancy woman, Pinkston. Reckin he ain't gonna like it much, but, hell, she stayed busy up around Boggy Creek. What's one more man?"
A Leaf in the Wind Page 11