“Yes’m. They’re all over to the saloon. Early and Nevada said they’d stand Joe a drink, since he’s leavin’ ’em tomorra.”
“Maybe you should be over there too,” Maggie said, “if you’re staying to work for the freighter with Joe.”
“This here pie’s better than what they got.” Bronc reached for Rhonda’s hand. “But if you ladies don’t mind, I’d like to show Rhonda the town. They got some bigger stores than Brady, and I thought she’d like to see ’em. Of course, if you ladies want to come along, you’re welcome.”
Maggie smiled. “You two go ahead. I’m going to head back to camp, since I have the early shift on night herd.”
“I’ll go with you, Maggie.” Carlotta folded her napkin and laid it on the table. “It was good to see you, Bronc.”
As Maggie rose and reached for her hat, Bronc stood on the other side of the table. “Miss Maggie?”
“Yes?” She looked over at him.
His big, handsome face had a wistful air. “Ma’am, do you think you’d hire other fellas too, or was you only speakin’ about me?”
Maggie hesitated. Was he asking for Joe and Alex and the others who were with him now? She was still angry at them—angry for leaving her father when he was sick and in trouble. Angry with them for making her difficult job on the drive even harder. Perhaps she was most angry because they’d found that funny. She’d thought better of Alex. Nevada and Early, too, though she’d had no expectations for Joe. Some of the other cowboys she would never hire back, with Tommy at the top of that list. On the other hand, men like Stewie and Leo and Harry had been the backbone of her father’s operation. She needed men like that.
Carlotta said softly, “Sometimes it is better to have friends you know near you, even if they aren’t perfect.”
Maggie pulled in a deep breath. All she had to do to drive Alex away forever was to say it now. If she told Bronc she wouldn’t hire Alex back, he would never come around the Rocking P again.
To her discomfiture, tears flooded her eyes.
“I’ll consider any man for a job if he’ll pledge his loyalty to the ranch—except Tommy Drescher. If you know of any more like him—troublemakers—I don’t want them. But the rest, if they haven’t scattered, you can tell them this: The Rocking P is going to come back. It’s going to be as strong as it was five years ago. And we’re going to need a good, solid bunch of cowboys.”
Bronc grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll surely tell ’em.”
Maggie nodded. “Well, give me some time first. There’ll be things I’ll need to take care of when I get home. But I’ll expect to see you next month.”
Maggie walked outside. Carlotta stopped to pay for an extra piece of pie for Bronc and hurried out to join her.
“You did fine, querida.”
“Did I?” Maggie choked. Maybe she’d made a big mistake, opening the door to Alex and the others. “I hope I don’t regret this.”
“You won’t.” Carlotta gave her a squeeze. “Come on. You need some rest before you go on watch.”
The men headed back to their camp later than Alex liked. What if Tommy and his friends had taken advantage of the quiet evening to make trouble for the women on the cattle drive? With three of the women in town, they could have wreaked havoc.
Before approaching their campsite in a secluded hollow, they rode to the high point they’d scouted earlier. Maggie’s herd had spread out some, and they couldn’t see all of it, but things looked calm. There wasn’t much of a moon tonight, but a multitude of stars shone overhead, and after he’d sat for a while surveying the scene, Alex could pick out a couple of nightriders.
“Looks like they’re doing fine,” Early said.
“Them gals are always fine.” Joe’s speech was a little slurred from all the celebrating.
“Let’s get you into your bedroll,” Nevada told him. “Come on.”
Alex let Nevada and Early take Joe down to the camp. They’d roll him up in his blankets and tend to his horse. They’d left Bronc in town with Rhonda. Alex hoped the big cowboy wouldn’t stay away too late. He’d need sleep too, since he’d decided to throw in his lot with Joe and go back to work for the freighter in the morning.
Alex hated to see the small band break up, but it was probably for the best. They couldn’t drift forever, and they all needed an income. The more he thought about it, the more eager he was to see his parents and his younger siblings. He’d at least go home for a visit. Pa and his partner, Tree Garza, would have a good idea of the job situation in that area. If it didn’t look too promising, Alex could write to his uncle, Judson Morgan, and see if things looked better down Victoria way.
It seemed like a good plan, and Alex relaxed a little in the saddle. Maybe his family could help Nevada find a place, too. He wouldn’t mind staying in touch with his friend. As to Maggie, he’d see her safely to Fort Worth, and then he’d be off.
He lifted his eyes skyward once more. Lord, show me where You want me. I don’t want to just drift.
Beyond Granbury, Maggie’s spirits buoyed. They were within reach of their goal—the stockyard. Another three or four days, and this trial would be over.
Poppy Wilson rode up beside her on the afternoon of June tenth. “We’re close to Benbrook. I’d like to ride into town and send my father a telegram if you don’t mind.”
Maggie nodded. She’d like to send one, too, but her funds were so low, she knew she couldn’t afford it until the cattle buyers paid her.
“Would you go now, so you can get there before the post office closes?”
“Sure,” Poppy said. “Do you want me to ask for your mail?”
“Yes, Benbrook is one of the towns I told Papa I’d check in at.”
Poppy eyed her gravely. “I can ask my folks to let your pa know we got here.”
Maggie’s heart leaped. “Thank you, but I wouldn’t want you to spend extra money to do that.”
Poppy brought her horse in closer and touched her shoulder gently. “We’re all praying for your father, Maggie. You don’t talk about it much, but we know you’re worried about him. He kept to his bed the day we got back from the roundup, and I figured he was pretty sick. I do hope he’s feeling better now.”
“Thank you,” Maggie choked out again. A tear slid down her cheek, and she rubbed it away. “It would be a relief to know he’d get word about us. In a few more days, I’ll send him a wire myself, but right now I just can’t.”
Poppy nodded. “Consider it done.”
Maggie supposed spending an extra dollar or two wouldn’t matter as much to the banker’s family as it would to most of those represented in her outfit.
“Take Mariah and Helen,” Maggie said. “I don’t think they’ve been in town this whole drive.”
“Well, I thought I’d take Shep.”
“Does he want to go?”
“I don’t know,” Poppy said with a rueful smile. “I just thought he deserved to.”
“He’s gone ahead to fix supper. You can ride up there and ask him if you want. If everything’s ready, he could go, and we’ll serve ourselves.”
In the end, Shep stayed in camp.
“Tell Miss Maggie I’ll cut loose when we get to Fort Worth” was the message Poppy brought her.
Poppy took Mariah Key and her cousin, Helen Branch, and headed into town. The other women pushed on for two more hours and settled the cattle for the night a mile beyond the cutoff to Benbrook.
Twilight had fallen and Maggie was riding herd, watching the stars pop out, when the three women returned to camp. Poppy rode out to her with a letter in Dolores’s handwriting, but nothing from Maggie’s father.
“I sent my telegram, and I decided to send another to your pa,” Poppy said.
“Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t have done that.” Maggie was astounded at the gesture, but Poppy just laughed.
“I’m afraid I let it look like you’d sent it. Do you mind awfully? I just said, Safe at Benbrook. Love, Maggie.”
An onslau
ght of tears prevented Maggie from answering. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth.
“Dear Maggie! I’m sorry, did I do wrong?” Poppy drew her horse closer to Maggie’s and reached for her.
Maggie shook her head. “No. Thank you so much.”
Poppy nodded, watching her closely. “Do you need to rest for a while? I’m not scheduled until midnight, but I could come on now.”
“No, I’m fine.” Maggie pulled off her bandanna and wiped her cheeks. “Bless you.”
Poppy smiled and reached in her pocket. “Brought you this.”
Puzzled, Maggie reached out for the little bag she held.
“Horehound drops,” Poppy said. “I’ll see you later.”
She trotted away in the darkness. Maggie took two deep breaths. Poppy was a dear girl she’d need to get to know better. She opened the little bag of candy and took out one hard, sugary nugget and tucked it into her mouth. She tore open Dolores’s letter and squinted in the darkness. She made out the first lines—“Your papa’s holding his own, and his appetite is better.” That was enough for now.
Thankful for the reassuring news, Maggie bent over, fussed with the buckle on her saddlebag, and dropped the bag of candy and her letter inside. She’d read the rest in the morning, when she didn’t have tear-fogged eyes. She quickly assessed the herd’s attitude—all seemed quiet. Bitty was riding the edge of the herd some distance away. All was well. Maggie urged her horse into a slow, steady walk around the grazing cattle.
A couple of hours had passed, and Maggie, Bitty, and Rhonda were due for relief on their watch. The wind blew gently but persistently across the plains, and Maggie wished she’d tied her jacket to the back of her saddle.
She met Rhonda on the edge of the herd, close to the base of a low hill. A few of the cattle had ventured up the slope, pulling grass, and she hated to drive them back down, but she’d have to soon, or they’d be over the top.
“Nice and peaceful,” Rhonda called from a few yards away.
Maggie walked her horse closer. “Have you heard from Bronc?”
“No. That man better be workin’ hard back in Brownwood.”
“I hope he’s putting some money by for you.” Maggie cocked her head. She’d caught the sound of hoofbeats. “Must be the midnight watch coming.”
Rhonda turned toward the increasing sound. “They’re comin’ awful fast.”
Maggie caught her breath. She kneed her horse into a trot and rode toward the newcomers. “Slow down,” she called, low but urgent.
The horses came on—four of them. They rumbled past her, and one of the riders let out a shriek. Another fired a pistol into the air, and Maggie’s heart all but stopped.
It took her less than a second to collect her wits and her horse. She whirled him back toward the herd, but the interlopers were already in their midst, yelling and shooting. The cattle lowed and snorted, jostling one another as they sought room to bolt.
Most of the herd headed north, but small bunches tore off and lit out for parts unknown. Maggie looked around for Bitty and Rhonda. She thought she glimpsed Rhonda, fifty yards ahead, but she wasn’t sure. It might be one of the men. She brought her horse up beside a steer running on the edge of the herd and galloped past him. Their only hope was to turn the leaders and make the cattle run in a circle until they tired and slowed down. Otherwise, they’d scatter from here to Canada.
More horsemen galloped past her. How many of them were there? They’d heard rumors down the trail about rustlers, but she’d thought they were past the danger corridor.
“Yeehaw!” Another rider thundered by her, and Maggie stared after him.
She would never—even by starlight—mistake Alex Bright.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Alex charged along the edge of the stampeding herd, trying to get past the bulk of the animals to the leaders. Red galloped past the terrified longhorns, eager to do the job he’d trained for.
Up ahead, a couple of riders moved along with the cattle, silhouetted in the moonlight, but Alex couldn’t tell if they were trying to turn the herd or to make matters worse. Another gunshot split the air, and he knew the marauders weren’t finished yet. He gritted his teeth and put his spurs to Red’s ribs. If not for his anxiety, Nevada and Early would have been asleep and not available to charge down the hill to help when the Rocking P herd erupted in panic. They’d ribbed him about mother-henning Maggie, but they’d followed his lead of sleeping away the afternoon and then sitting up there with him after dark, watching the peaceful cattle below and listening to the ladies’ sweet singing as they tended the herd.
As near as he could tell, three or four riders had galloped out from a stand of cottonwoods farther along the valley and wreaked this havoc. He and his friends had jumped into the saddle without a thought and zipped down the hill to aid the women. Alex had two missions clear in his mind: stop the herd from running to destruction, and then hunt down those riders.
Red poured on the speed, and they surged past the cattle. The steers only wanted to get out of there, away from the noise. In their panic, they knocked each other down, trampling those that moved too slowly.
So long as Alex stayed out of their way, he could move up on the outside of the writhing mass, but small bunches of cattle broke from the main herd and veered off to run their own course.
Red dodged among them, making progress. Alex passed one rider. He was pretty sure it was a girl, but he had no time to speak to her, or even to be sure she was safe. He squeezed Red’s sides and kept moving forward.
Finally he neared the front of the herd. A few rogue animals charged ahead, and the rest strung out behind them. Alex pushed Red, asking for more effort than he’d demanded for weeks. The roan bounded forward, sensing the urgency of the task. As he did so, Alex eased off his jacket.
He thundered alongside the lead steers and flapped his jacket at them. The frightened cattle snorted and veered away from him. Alex kept at it, letting the first few run past him in a crooked path and rode in toward the next few.
“Get, you! Haw!” He waved the jacket practically under the nose of a wild-eyed longhorn. Red pivoted just in time to avoid being gored by a horn.
They weren’t turning fast enough. Up ahead was a small town—less than half a mile away now, unless Alex was mistaken. If they couldn’t turn the herd, it would plow through the town leaving chaos behind. Martin Porter could ill afford to pay for the damages.
Alex pushed Red up with the front-runners again and pulled his pistol. Yelling and flapping the jacket wasn’t enough. He fired a shot and ran his horse toward the leaders. They turned ninety degrees. Alex looked back. Two more riders were barely visible in the darkness, on his side of the herd. If they worked with him, they might be able to push the cattle aside and turn them back toward the camp.
Lord, let those riders be on our side!
He didn’t spare another thought to the identity of the other riders. Whether they were his friends, Maggie’s cowgirls, or the outlaws who had started this mayhem, he had no idea. Alex held his ground, pushing the oncoming cattle around to follow the few that led them on their raucous run.
Within minutes he knew his hopes had been realized. A couple of other riders supported his efforts, turning the cattle as they came on. The stock lumbered off in a right turn toward a steep hillside. When they neared that natural barrier, they swung around more, so that the entire herd was now moving in the shape of a giant U, with the leaders pointing back toward their night camp, nearly two miles behind them.
In the distance he heard a few more gunshots. Alex hoped those were fired by cowpokes turning cattle, not by the marauders, but he couldn’t leave his post to investigate.
He stayed near the farthest point they’d come, trotting Red back and forth and waving his jacket, giving any doubtful critters an incentive to turn and run the other way. By the time half the cattle had reached that point, they were trotting and lowing, instead of tearing at a flat-out run. Other riders must be guiding them f
arther down the valley, making them mill around, slower and slower.
The whole herd might be manageable now, though they’d probably be jumpy for the rest of the night. Alex rode in closer to start actively driving them back toward the camp.
A horse trotted up to him. “Alex!”
He turned to greet Nevada. “You all right?”
“Yup. Good job.”
“Thanks. Where’s Early?” Alex asked.
“He’s hit.”
“What do you mean?”
Nevada took his hat off and wiped his brow. “We saw those riders lightin’ out for the trees, and we took after ’em.”
“The ones who started the stampede?”
“The same. We think it was Tommy and his bunch.”
Alex let out a deep breath and shook his head. “What happened?”
“They turned around and shot at us. As soon’s I saw they’d hit Early, I left off. But I shot one of ’em out of the saddle.”
Bile rose in Alex’s throat. “Is Early dead?”
“Nope. Winged him. He told me to go on and help you. I left him lying by a big rock, with his six-shooter and my rifle, just in case they came around him again.”
“Let’s get these cattle settled and go get him.”
It took them nearly an hour to help guide the herd back to the starting point. Alex saw a couple of the cowgirls and waved to them. Mariah Key, rancher John Key’s sister, rode up to him and squinted at him in the moonlight.
“That you, Alex Bright?”
“Yup. We saw that you ladies were in trouble and thought we’d help.”
“You didn’t ‘help’ start this thing, did you?”
“No, but we saw it happen. Do you know where Miss Maggie is? I’d like to talk to her about it once we get the herd bedded down.”
“She’ll be in the thick of it,” Mariah said. “If I see her, I’ll tell her to speak first and shoot later, at least as far as you’re concerned.” She wheeled her pony and loped away.
Maggie wove her horse among the cattle, keeping her neckerchief over her face to filter out some of the dust the herd churned up. She wasn’t sure how to get the animals to bed down—she didn’t think she could sing right now if her life depended on it. Several bunches of cattle had charged off away from the main herd in the confusion. When daylight came, they’d have to look for them.
Cowgirl Trail Page 23