“Me too,” Early said.
Joe hesitated. “I really ought to be looking for work.”
“Yes, you should,” Alex said. “You, too, Bronc. You’re married, and you’ll need it.”
Bronc sighed. “That woman’ll probably send me packin’ tomorrow, after I see her. It’s s’posed to be the last time, and then I go back and look for work around Brady again. She wants to keep her job with the doctor, so I got to find some-thin’ close by.”
“You do that. And Bronc?”
The cowboy looked at him expectantly.
“If you don’t get a job by next month,” Alex said, “don’t be too proud to go to Maggie Porter with your hat in your hand. She knows you’re a good man.”
“Miss Maggie? What about her pa?” Early asked. “You just told Tommy and Diego they can’t go back there. Doesn’t that apply to us, too?”
Alex glanced at Bronc. He’d learned of Mr. Porter’s condition in confidence, and he didn’t think it was up to him to spill it. Bronc said nothing, but watched him with a wary expression.
“I just think things may be changing at the Rocking P in the future,” Alex said. “You see Maggie in charge of the herd now. Well, it could be she’ll take over more responsibility for the home ranch, too. I’m saying that if you don’t find something else—and I hope you all do—that she might take another look at you down the road a ways.”
“What about you, Alex?” Early asked.
“I dunno. I’ll probably wind up with my father again, or at my uncle, Jud Morgan’s ranch. But you just don’t know, do you?”
Nevada smiled. “No, you never know. Boys, let’s keep our heads down and circle back behind the herd, just to make sure nobody else is tracking them. And if things look quiet, we can ride into town tonight for a drink.”
“You payin’?” Bronc asked.
Nevada just laughed, and they all followed his sorrel gelding along their back trail.
The next day the men watched from a distance to see that the herd moved out in good time. Once the cattle were plodding along, Joe and Early rode into Brownwood to scout the job prospects.
An hour later, Joe came galloping back to where Alex, Bronc, and Nevada had stopped to graze their horses. Without frequent pauses, they would soon outrun the cattle drive, so they lounged in the shade of a big cottonwood. Alex had been feeling useless again, and was glad to see Joe coming, though his breakneck speed signaled that he bore news.
“What happened?” he called as Joe rode in close. Nevada stood and joined them.
“Early and me got work for the day. If you want to, you can too.” Joe stopped to catch his breath.
“What kinda work?” Nevada asked.
“It’s unloading freight at the feed store. It might not take all day if you three come, but he’ll pay us a dollar apiece. Four wagons to unload. Big ones.”
Nevada looked at Alex. “You want to?”
“I expect we’d better,” Alex said. “We’re all pretty nearly broke.” They’d spent a bit on supplies for the trip, and Alex had contributed more than was perhaps wise toward Leo’s doctor bill. “Might as well, I guess.”
“Think the cowgirl brigade will be all right without us?” Nevada asked.
Alex hesitated then gave a shrug. They hadn’t spotted any trouble for the last day, and even if it came along, Maggie was the most capable woman he knew.
He looked at Bronc. “You want to work?”
“Rhonda’d prob’ly like it if I did. Sure.”
Remembering Tommy’s actions, Alex was still reluctant to ride off out of reach of the Porters’ herd.
“Tell you what,” Nevada said. “I’ll go work with these fellas, and you tail the herd. And I’ll share the coffee I buy with my dollar with you.”
“Well, I—”
“No buts. At least one of us should be close by, just in case. Joe, where’s the job?”
“Right on the main street in town. Logan’s feed store.”
Nevada nodded. “If you need us, Alex, that’s where we’ll be.” He and Bronc went to saddle up.
“Oh, and I saw three men from the Lazy S,” Joe said. “They’re headed home from their drive.”
“They give you any news?” Alex asked.
“One of their old-timers said the trail was easy, compared to the old days. No Injuns, and they had decent weather. He did say they lost some cattle near Granbury. A gang cut out a hundred or so from the herd at night.”
“Tell Bronc to pass that on to Rhonda tonight,” Alex said. “Or if you see any of the Rocking P gals, tell them yourself.”
Joe nodded. “You want us to watch for ’em in town, or would you rather we stayed out of sight?”
“Well, if Rhonda sees Bronc, she’ll know we’re still around. But I think Maggie would feel better if she didn’t know. I mean, we promised not to interfere with their operation anymore.”
Joe nodded. “Got it.”
Nevada and Bronc trotted their horses over.
“Ready to ride?” Joe asked.
“Sure are,” Nevada said. “Alex, we’ll see you tonight.”
“I’ll set up camp nearer to town and have your supper ready.”
“You just watch yourself.”
Alex eyed Nevada soberly. His friend might not be the most cheerful companion, but he was smart. “You think Tommy will come back?”
“He might. And he’s as mad at us now as he is at Porter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Shep was building up his cook fire to make breakfast as Maggie and the other three women who had ridden the last night-herd shift rode into camp. Maggie unsaddled her horse and turned it out in the rope corral they’d improvised. She took her small New Testament from her saddlebag and stashed her gear outside the corral. She’d need it again in an hour.
As she ambled toward the chuck wagon, Shep waved and grinned at her. Maggie returned his salute but didn’t call out to him, as some of the women still slept nearby. She found a quiet place to read for a few minutes behind the wagon and sank to the grass with her back against the front wheel. She couldn’t always find time to read Scripture during her long, arduous days, but she felt more settled and confident when she could. For the past three days, she’d struggled to get through Psalm 119—the longest chapter in the Bible. If she could read one or two of the short sections this morning, she’d be satisfied.
The words of the 111th verse struck her as odd: Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage forever; for they are the rejoicing of my heart. I have inclined mine heart to perform thy statutes always, even unto the end. She hadn’t felt much inward rejoicing lately. With her father’s health problems, their financial worries, her grief over her mother, and the grueling work of the cattle drive, she was thankful if she got through each day in one piece. Chronically short on sleep and aching from her labor, she could barely recall what joy felt like.
She leaned back against the spokes of the wheel and closed her eyes. Her father had given up hope. He’d said that if not for her … what? Was he desperate enough to end his life to avoid the pain ahead and the shame of debt? How could she feel anything akin to joy while she wondered if he was still alive?
Lord, this says Your testimonies are my rejoicing. I guess I always thought our families and just plain living were what brought us joy. But right now, living’s worn me down. Show me how to perform Your statutes to the end. She sat still for a moment, thinking about that, and not completely sure what it meant. She supposed when David wrote it, he was expressing the hope that he would keep God’s commandments all his life. Was there more to it than that?
Lord, show me what to do. Help me to pay down the bills so Papa won’t be worried, and so he won’t feel ashamed of being in debt. And please, could You let Papa feel better? If it’s not part of Your plan for him to recover, Lord, at least let him not suffer. Please.
She lingered another minute in prayer, then rose and dusted off her skirt. As she rounded the end of the wagon, Carlotta was rol
ling up her blankets.
“Good morning.”
Her smile lifted Maggie’s heart, and she sent up another quick prayer of thanks for the friends who gave so much to help her.
“Are you going in to Brownwood tonight?”
“I’d like to,” Maggie said. “Let’s see if we make a good distance today.”
“If you go, I will go with you,” Carlotta said. “I think my mama would like it if I sent word that we are doing so well.”
“Yes, and I’d like to send Papa a telegram, too. I didn’t get to do that in Milburn.”
Maggie hated to spend the money, as her funds for the trip were now lower than planned, thanks to the steep toll she’d paid.
The day was as hot, dusty, and demanding as any, but they moved the cattle nearly fifteen miles and camped on a stretch of range not far from Brownwood. After a quick cleanup, Maggie, Carlotta, and Rhonda saddled fresh mounts, leaving Sarah in charge.
They rode into town and found the telegraph office still open. Maggie struggled to save words and therefore money. Finally she settled on ARRIVED BROWNWOOD ALL WELL. Not very personal but adequate.
Carlotta also sent a message to her parents. She didn’t divulge what she said, but her telegram was considerably longer than Maggie’s, and she paid three times as much without apparent qualms. But then, her father’s ranch was not failing, and his men had probably just returned from their roundup with a huge profit in hand.
They strolled along the street, keeping an eye out for Bronc Tracey—Rhonda’s tall, strapping husband would be easy to spot. When they didn’t see him along the length of the main street, Carlotta said, “Come into this restaurant. I will buy supper for all.”
“We can’t let you do that,” Maggie said.
“Why not? I would like to. Besides, I want some pie, and Shep doesn’t make pies in his chuck wagon.”
Rhonda laughed and eyed Carlotta cautiously. “Miss Carlotta, if you won’t be hurtin’ for money …”
“That is not a problem,” Carlotta said. Maggie was very familiar with the Herrera home, and she was sure her friend made no exaggeration. “And you may call me Carlotta. ‘Miss’ seems very formal for trail mates.”
Rhonda smiled. “All right. Thank you.” She looked expectantly at Maggie.
Maggie gave a chuckle. “I give in. But you mustn’t make a habit of treating us, Carlotta. We’ll become quite spoiled, and I’m very thankful we have Shep.”
“Oh, yes, Shep is wonderful, and he cooks fine for a cattle drive. But now and then I get this—you know—longing—for something sweeter than his flapjacks with sorghum.”
“A craving,” Maggie said.
“Oh, yes ma’am.” Rhonda closed her eyes for a second. “Give me a slice of berry pie and I’m happy. Of course, Bronc likes it too. Feeding that man is a chore, and I tend to eat too much of it myself.” She patted her stomach, which was thicker than Maggie’s or Carlotta’s.
Maggie just smiled, but Carlotta put an arm around Rhonda’s shoulders. “My dear, you look lovely, and if it is any comfort to you, I believe you are slimming on this adventure.”
“That’s true,” Maggie said. “I think we’ve all lost weight on trail rations and all-day exercise.”
As they talked, Carlotta herded them toward the restaurant.
“I do hope you’re right,” Rhonda said. “If I can earn a few dollars and come home thinner too, Bronc will be tickled.”
“Well, if Poppy Wilson gets any thinner, she’ll be too light to throw a calf,” Maggie said, and they all laughed.
“That girl.” Carlotta shook her head. “She looks frail, but she’s anything but.”
They entered the dim dining room, where several long tables were set up for customers. More than half the seats were taken, but they managed to position themselves so that Rhonda had a view out one of the windows and could watch for Bronc. Maggie looked around at the other patrons. While the majority were men, a sprinkling of respectable-looking women had also come in for supper, most with male escorts. All seemed to enjoy their meal.
“The food must be good here,” Carlotta said.
They ordered the fried chicken dinner and mashed potatoes all around, with plenty of wheat bread and fresh tomatoes on the side. The dishes they didn’t get in camp tasted heavenly to Maggie and made her a little homesick for Dolores’s kitchen.
The waitress had just brought their blackberry pie when Rhonda cried, “There’s Bronc and Alex.” She pushed back her chair and rose, her eyes aglitter and her dark cheeks flushed.
“Do you want to see Alex?” Carlotta asked Maggie softly.
“I most certainly do not.” Maggie hated the way her heart had leaped and ricocheted when Rhonda spoke his name. “I told him to go away and stay out of our business.”
Carlotta stood and said to Rhonda, “Why don’t you go out and tell Bronc we’re in here. If he wants to come in for some pie, that’s fine—I’ll buy him a piece and a cup of coffee. But we’d rather not see the rest of their bunch.”
“I understand.” Rhonda threw Maggie an apologetic smile and wove her way between the tables to the door.
“That man infuriates me,” Maggie said as Carlotta resumed her seat.
“Bronc?”
“No, not Bronc. You know who I mean.”
Carlotta smiled. “Yes, I know.”
“You think it’s funny. Well, I’m starting to get downright aggravated with him.”
“Settle down, chica. Enjoy your pie.”
Maggie managed to keep silent and not spew her anger, but the blackberry pie’s flavor wasn’t nearly as good as she’d anticipated.
A couple of minutes later, Rhonda bustled in with Bronc in tow.
Carlotta stood. “Hello, Bronc. I’ll go ask the waitress to bring you some pie and coffee.”
“Thank you, señorita.” Bronc sat down beside Rhonda and shot Maggie a shy glance. “Evenin’, Miss Maggie.”
“Hello, Bronc. I do hope you and your friends aren’t trying to interfere with our drive again.”
He blinked at her directness. “Oh, no, ma’am. We come into town lookin’ for work. I was tellin’ Rhonda, Joe Moore’s goin’ to stay here and work for the freighter down the street, and I can stay too, if I want. We all worked for him today.”
“That sounds good,” Maggie said. “I’m glad you all found a way to earn some money.”
“Well, I don’t really want to stay here long iffen Rhonda’s going back to her old job.”
“I’d be crazy not to,” his wife said.
Bronc nodded, but his dark eyes flicked a troubled glance her way.
Carlotta returned with the waitress close behind her, bearing a coffeepot and a plate that held a generous slice of pie.
“Mm, mm, that looks good.” Bronc grinned at Carlotta. “Thank you kindly.”
While they all finished their pie, Maggie thought about the Traceys’ situation. She certainly didn’t want the couple to separate in order to earn a living. Still, they’d never had children, so their needs were not as great as some families’.
“Bronc,” she said when they were all sipping second cups of coffee, “if you want to stay here and work for two or three weeks, we could pick you up on our way back from Fort Worth.”
Rhonda and Bronc both stared at her across the table.
“You’d do that?” Rhonda asked.
Maggie shrugged. “I don’t blame your husband for what happened at the sheep ranch.”
“Oh, no, ma’am,” Bronc said quickly. “It warn’t my idea.”
“So you said. I’m not sure who came up with that plan,” Maggie said, “but I can’t release the leaders of your group from blame.”
“That’s not really fair of you, my dear,” Carlotta said gently. “I don’t suppose Alex is that angry with you.”
“Oh, no, Alex didn’t do that,” Bronc said. “He was against it. But the others said it was all in fun, and they sorta talked him out of trying to do anything about it.”
“That sounds more like Alex,” Carlotta said, “though I might have thought he’d shame them out of such a childish stunt.”
“That’s why they didn’t tell him until it was done, ma’am.” Bronc’s dark eyes met Carlotta’s in a plea for understanding.
Maggie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It still wasn’t right.”
“No, ma’am.” Bronc lowered his chin and looked down at his coffee mug.
“But anyway,” Maggie went on, “I’ve been thinking about the ranch. When I get back from Fort Worth, I’m going to have to hire a new crew. You’re a hard worker, Bronc. If you came around the Rocking P in a month or so, there might be work for you there.”
Bronc stared at her for a moment, his eyes huge, then his face split in a big grin. “Why, thank you, ma’am.”
“What about Mr. Porter?” Rhonda asked.
Bronc sobered. “Yes’m. Will the boss want to take me on?”
Maggie’s lip trembled, and she raised her coffee and took a sip, giving herself time to regain control. “Come around then if you still need a job, and we’ll see, all right?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am.” Bronc grinned at Rhonda. “See, sugar? Maybe we can keep the house after all.”
“You were going to move?” Carlotta asked in surprise.
Rhonda shrugged. “Well, if he wasn’t workin’, we didn’t know if we could pay the rent.”
“You could stay in one of the cabins on the ranch,” Maggie said. “It would be farther for you to go to work, though.”
“If we both got jobs, it won’t be no problem,” Bronc said. “But we’ll keep it in mind. Thank you, Miss Maggie.”
She nodded, hoping she could make good on the offer. So much depended on her father’s condition. More than anything, she wanted him to get well, but Dr. Vargas held out no hope of that. If her father did recover enough to run the ranch for a while, he might not want any of his former employees back. But Maggie didn’t expect that to happen. If the doctor was right, she had better plan for her future without her father’s guidance.
“So, where are the other men, if I may ask?” Carlotta smiled at Bronc. “Are you all in town tonight?”
Cowgirl Trail Page 22