“And we need you to be feeling good, too. Come on, you’ve had a long day.”
“No longer than anyone else,” Maggie said. “You all got up at least as early as I did this morning, and you rode to my house before we started.”
Carlotta scowled at her. “You want to fight? Are you forgetting I have four sisters? You can’t win a spat with me. And I say I take the first watch and you sleep.”
“I can’t—”
“Stop that. You can. And I insist. I know you, Margaret Porter. You lay awake half of last night going over the list of supplies and the route we’ll take, didn’t you?”
Maggie couldn’t deny it—all of that and her father’s illness, the ranch’s debts, and the way Alex had avoided looking at her in the doctor’s office.
“And that’s not saying how much time you spent praying for your papa,” Carlotta added, as though she could read Maggie’s mind—or part of it, anyway. “Those cattle are tired, too, and it won’t be hard for us to watch them without you. Now, go get your plate and eat up. And then you are going to rest.”
Maggie glared at her for all of five seconds. Tears spurted into her eyes, and she blinked at them, startled and disconcerted. “All right.” Her voice quavered, and she blinked harder.
Carlotta put her arms around her and patted her back. “There now. It’s going to be all right. We’re going to do fine—and you are not the only one praying, you know.”
Maggie slept a good, solid four hours, lying on her two blankets and with one of Carlotta’s covering her. She’d brought a small pillow, having learned her lesson on the roundup. Most of the other women had, too. Since they had the buckboard along for a “hoodlum wagon,” to carry their gear, they had plenty of room for such things. Most of the ladies had even brought a change of respectable clothing to wear when they reached Fort Worth. Mariah Key had never been to the city and was determined to cut a fashionable figure when she got there.
Celine was puttering about the cook fire when Carlotta made the rounds, waking the six who had slept through the first shift of night herding. Almost as soon as Maggie had abandoned her bedroll, Celine put a cup of hot coffee in her hands.
“Thank you,” Maggie said.
Celine smiled. “I’m on watch with you now. Thought we could all use a cup of coffee to wake us up.” She turned to offer some to the other women.
“Things are quiet with the herd,” Carlotta reported. “A lot of them are lying down, but some are grazing. We mostly rode among them and tried to discourage them from spreading out too much.”
“Good.” Some of the women had no experience with containing a herd outside fences. “I appreciate your letting me sleep.”
Carlotta smiled, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “Feel better?”
“Much.”
Shep strolled over with a tin cup in his hand. “I’m on your shift, Miss Maggie, but I don’t know as I can stay in the saddle that long.”
“I don’t want you to,” she said. “Just have a horse saddled and ready in case we need you quick, all right? Otherwise, I think we’ll be fine with five of us out there.”
“I could come out there, but I don’t know how much good I’d do sitting around.”
Maggie shook her head. “You take it easy, Shep. We’re counting on you having a big breakfast ready when we come in.”
He grinned at her. “Now, that I can do.”
Maggie turned to speak to Carlotta again, but her friend was already taking her boots off.
“I’ll see you later.” Maggie gulped down the rest of her coffee and took her cup to the back of the chuck wagon. When she reached the corral, Mariah and her cousin, Helen, were saddling horses.
“I’ve got this nice big gray ready for you, Miss Porter,” Helen said.
“Oh, please, call me Maggie. And thank you very much.” Maggie looked the horse over. He was huge—maybe seventeen hands—and he was wearing her saddle. She hoped he could cut and turn as tightly as the smaller mustangs could.
She rode out with Mariah, Helen, Bitty, and Celine, and walked the gray leisurely among the grazing cattle. After about a half hour, she heard Celine singing a Spanish ballad. Her clear, sweet tones hung over the herd like a blessing. A little later, Mariah started a hymn, and Maggie joined in. The stars shone so bright overhead, they looked solid, like jewels against a velvet gown. This can work, she thought. With God’s help, she’d do this job and then straighten things out with her father. In the starlight she almost believed she might someday be able to make amends with Alex too.
A yell came suddenly from off to her left. It was Bitty, she thought. Maggie urged her horse to trot toward the commotion. They did not want a stampede tonight.
The cattle on Bitty’s side of the herd were restless. Maggie spoke in low, firm tones as she rode through them. When she was close enough, she saw Bitty and another horsewoman out away from the herd, chasing a handful of steers.
“Get back there, you!” Bitty’s voice carried, and Maggie gritted her teeth.
The two women had turned the bunch by the time she reached them. Maggie called softly to Bitty, “Got trouble?”
“That one old cow has a mind of her own, and she got six or eight others to follow her.”
“Let’s keep an eye on her.” Maggie turned her horse and fell in beside Bitty. “Maybe we should keep her near the back of the herd tomorrow. And Bitty—don’t yell at them, all right? One screech could set the whole herd off on a quiet night like this.”
Bitty’s head drooped. “Sorry, Maggie.”
“It’s all right. The rest didn’t seem too agitated this time. But it doesn’t take much to set them off, and out here in the open, we could be days rounding them up.”
After that, Maggie tried to circulate more around the edges of the herd. Halfway through their shift, her stamina flagged and she slumped in the saddle. Tomorrow night they could form three shifts of four people, she hoped—although she didn’t want to increase the risk of trouble.
“How you doin’, Miss Maggie?”
Shep was approaching on one of the cow ponies, and she trotted the gray gelding toward him.
“Hello, Shep. It’s going pretty well, but I’m starting to wonder if I’m crazy.”
“Why so?”
“Some of these ladies have never worked cattle until this week, and … well, I guess it’s a little too late to worry about that, isn’t it?”
He chuckled. “I think you’re doing a good job. Tomorrow you’ll do even better. It always takes a crew a few days to settle into doing things right on the drive.”
“Thanks. I hope you’ve gotten some sleep.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m about ready to build up the cook fire. I’m doing eggs this mornin’—probably the only time you’ll get ’em until Fort Worth. And Dolores made enough sourdough buns for a go-round.”
“Sounds good.”
He headed his pony back toward the camp, and Maggie resumed her rounds. Soft singing reached her, and she lifted her eyes once more to the sky. As she rode, she hummed and prayed. She had so many things on her mind, she doubted she could list them all off between now and breakfast. Mostly she prayed for Papa and for safety on the drive.
“Lord, if You want us to get by, please let me get a good price for these cattle,” she whispered. In a few months, she’d be boss of the Rocking P. Would she be able to hire some dependable men as permanent employees, or had the Porter outfit lost all respect among the cowboys in McCulloch County? She hoped the strikers’ complaints wouldn’t keep other men from hiring on with her. She reached for her canteen and took a long swallow of water. She could advertise for cowpunchers and put in the ad the fact that she’d pay higher wages. Maybe that would draw in some decent men. Shep could help her decide which ones she could trust.
It came to her that she would hold the authority to hire back the striking men if she wanted to. And if they’d sign on with her. Would they be willing to work under a woman rancher? And would they trust her to treat th
em right, after all her father’s missteps?
She remembered Alex’s promise to pray for her. That brought a sliver of comfort and a huge pile of loneliness. Was he out looking for a new job? Had he gone back to Fort Chadbourne to work with his father? Or would he hire on at one of her neighbors’ ranches? Whoever got Alex Bright in the shuffle would be blessed.
The thought that he might leave the area, disillusioned and bitter, weighed on her mind. She might never see him again.
“The women didn’t set any records today,” Nevada said. Alex said nothing but looked out toward where Maggie’s herd lay. He could hear the distant lowing of cattle when the wind was right. They’d stopped just inside Jim Bradley’s north boundary line. Probably a smart choice, since he was pretty sure Bradley’s daughter was riding along. Maggie had some skilled women on her crew. He hoped she had enough with trail sense—and enough hands period—to take the drive through. Manpower, or in this case, womanpower, was important on the trail.
“Eight miles isn’t so bad the first day,” Early Shaw drawled. “Lotta times it takes a few days to hit your stride.”
“Yeah, they got farther than Joe predicted,” Alex said. Joe Moore had joined them on Nevada’s invitation. With Early, they were four strong—not enough to man a cattle drive, but enough to tip the scales if Maggie had any more incidents like the one with the Bar D men.
“I’m going to hit the sack,” Nevada said.
They walked back to their campfire. Joe had coffee steaming and had gotten out his tin cup and a bag of hard rolls he’d bought in Brady that morning.
“If you’re serious about following them all the way to Fort Worth, we’d best stock up on comestibles,” he said to Alex.
“Sure. We can stop at the next town. Might need a pack-horse, though.”
“Can’t afford it,” Nevada said.
“Yeah, let’s just pack enough food for two or three days,” Early told him. “We can ride into towns along the way. Won’t take us long to catch up again at the rate they’ll be moving.”
Alex went to his bedroll and picked up his tin cup. He poured himself coffee and sat down near the fire with Joe. Early and Nevada hauled their boots off and arranged their blankets on the ground a little distance away.
Hoofbeats approaching brought Alex to his feet. He had his hand on the butt of his revolver by the time Joe heard it and jumped up.
“Ho the camp,” a deep voice called.
Alex squinted into the darkness. “That you, Bronc Tracey?”
“The same.” The dark-skinned cowboy rode up until his horse was barely within the circle of firelight.
“Heard there was a few of you out here. Got room for one more?”
“Sure,” Alex said. Bronc was a good, dependable man, though he was quiet and kept his distance from the others most of the time. His skin color didn’t make a whit of difference on the range. If a man could ride, rope, and shoot, he was welcome on most any outfit.
“Took me a while to find ya.” Bronc dismounted. “My Rhonda’s on the drive with Miss Maggie.” He waited, holding his horse’s reins, as if he thought that information might make a difference.
“Thought she might be,” Nevada said.
“Does that bother you boys?” Bronc looked at Alex.
“I don’t mind,” Alex said. “Someone in the family’s got to earn some money.”
“That’s the way we look at it,” Bronc said, “and we figure we’s helping Leo and Sela, too.”
“Sela filling in for Rhonda at the doctor’s again?” Nevada asked.
“That’s right.”
Nevada looked at Alex and shrugged. “I don’t think we’ve got much chance of making this strike work for us, so I guess wives and sweethearts might as well work.”
Alex wasn’t sure whose sweetheart he was referring to, though he thought he recalled that Tommy Drescher had taken to calling on Sarah Bradley last spring. He sure hoped Nevada didn’t mean Maggie. She was a far cry from being his sweetheart.
“Want some coffee?” Joe asked.
“Don’t mind it. Got my cup.” Bronc took it from his saddlebag and gave it to Joe, then went back and slipped his horse’s bridle off. He came back to the fire and took the full cup from Joe.
“I reckon some of the fellas are pretty upset about what those women are doing,” Joe said as they settled down around the fire.
Bronc took a deep sip of coffee. “I seen Tommy in town today.”
That remark had to be connected to Joe’s observation. Alex eyed Bronc sharply. “What did he say?”
“He’s mad at Miss Sarah.”
“Not surprised.” Alex lifted the coffeepot to see if there was any left. “You want more?” he asked Joe and Early.
They shook their heads, and Alex poured himself the last half cup.
“Bill an’ Stewie are hiring on with the Lazy S.”
“Really?” Early said, and Bronc nodded.
“Tommy said they was right glad to get new jobs. They don’t figure Porter will ever take us back.”
“I’m afraid he won’t,” Nevada said. “This thing set him off pretty bad.”
Bronc grimaced. “So, what you fellas goin’ to do?”
“Not sure yet,” Joe said. “You think the Lazy S will hire more of us?”
“I been out there and they said no, they got plenty of help now.” Bronc sipped his coffee.
“Why you all followin’ the herd?” Joe glanced at Alex.
“I’m not sure we know the answer to that, Bronc.” Alex set his cup down and kicked the end of a burnt stick into the fire.
“I thought maybe you was going to ask Miss Maggie for jobs.”
“We can’t do that.” Nevada looked around at the others. “We pledged to stick together for the strike.”
“Yeah,” Early said. “Can’t undercut the other men.”
“I s’pose not,” Bronc said. “Tommy, he wanted to make trouble for the ladies, but maybe he’ll get that out of his head if nobody else goes with him.”
“What kind of trouble?” Alex asked, shooting a quick glance at Nevada. “I thought we set him straight on that at the roundup.”
“He thinks we all should try to stop the drive. I didn’t like the way he was talkin’, what with my Rhonda out there.”
“You think he’ll actually do somethin’?” Early asked.
“I dunno.”
“I hope not,” Alex said.
“Well, I’m going to get some sleep. You fellas do what you want.” Nevada stood and ambled to his bedroll.
“Reckon I’d best put my hoss up,” Bronc said. He went over to where his horse had begun to browse and removed his saddle.
Alex got up and walked to the edge of their campsite. They couldn’t actually see the herd, but he could still hear it. And he thought, when he listened hard, that he could hear sweet voices. The women riding herd, no doubt. He wondered if Maggie was singing lullabies to the cattle. He sent up a quick prayer for her and her new employees. He wasn’t quite sure what to ask for, but he didn’t wish her ill. Quite the opposite, even if it meant he could never work in this county again.
Bronc’s words about Tommy rankled with him. The women would have enough to think about without sabotage. And it didn’t take much to cause a cattle drive to go wrong.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The second day out, the herd covered almost ten miles—near enough so that Maggie recorded it as such. They camped in a place her father had recommended, a narrow valley with high bluffs on each side and a shallow creek in the bottom. The natural boundaries gave her confidence in posting fewer people on night watch. After supper, enough light still shone to allow them to write, and several of the women sat down to pen letters. Maggie wrote a brief note to Dolores.
Dear Dolores,
We’re doing fine so far. We’re far enough out that the cattle have settled down. Tell Papa we’re camped for the night in that valley he said to use if we were moving slow. It’s a good place to stop—plenty of
grass, and peaceful. I wish we’d made more ground, but so long as things go well, I’m not complaining. Do send word to me at Brownwood if you need me to come back.
Lots of love, Maggie
She almost scratched out the last sentence, but let it stand. She signed off and slipped it into an envelope.
“How are you doing?”
She looked up into Carlotta’s lovely face.
“I’m fine. How about you?”
Carlotta chuckled and sat down on the ground beside her. “I miss the comforts of home, but this is going to be something we’ll brag about for the rest of our lives.”
“I expect you’re right.” Maggie held up the note she’d written. “I’m telling Dolores to let me know right away if Papa has a medical crisis. She could send me word at Brownwood or Comanche.”
“Sure,” Carlotta said. “You’d want to be home if he needs you.”
“Yes. I’m glad we’re doing this for him, but if he gets worse, I can’t stay away. Can you take over if that happens?” Her voice choked, and tears slid down her cheeks. “It could happen any time.”
Carlotta put her arm around Maggie and hugged her. “Of course, querida. With Sarah’s ability and Shep’s wisdom, we would be able to get the job done.”
Maggie nodded. “Thanks. I figure the stock buyers would listen to you on principle—your father is one of their valued clients.”
“And so is yours. This will be a good business deal for the Rocking P.”
Maggie sniffed. “Thanks.”
“But I have confidence you will be there with us,” Carlotta said. “He is not going to get worse.”
Maggie didn’t bother to debate that. Her father would get worse. But dwelling on the prospect wouldn’t help. “Now help me work out the assignments for tomorrow. Do you think we can make it to the sheep ranch?”
“Maybe not. Best to allow another day. The rancher won’t let you stop on his land.”
“That’s what Papa and Shep said. So I guess it’s another fairly easy day tomorrow. I make it to be nine miles.” Maggie frowned. “We’ll have to pick up the pace once we cross it, or we’ll be all summer getting to Fort Worth.”
Cowgirl Trail Page 18