Cowboys Don't Cry
Page 8
Tanner kicked out a chair. "Talk away."
She sat. He stayed standing with his elbows braced against the wall behind him.
"You were rude tonight."
He shifted uncomfortably. "So?"
"I was embarrassed."
"I'm not your kid! You don't have to be embarrassed on account of me."
"I do if you act like a jerk in my house."
He scuffed the toe of his boot on the plank floor. "Sorry." His tone was truculent. He couldn't help it. It had been five hours and he was still mad. Bad enough she had to drag home her smart friends, but when they started telling him how to run the ranch—!
"I'm sorry, too," Maggie said quietly. "I wasn't trying to undermine your authority tonight. And John didn't mean to imply that you didn't know what you were do-ing."
"No kiddin'?" Tanner said with just a hint of sarcasm. He breathed a little more easily. At least she thought his reaction had to do with the sheep. He strode over to the window and stared out into the blackness.
"No, he didn't," Maggie said firmly. "And you know it, too."
"I do? How?"
"Because you suggested sheep to Abby yourself!"
Tanner's head whipped around and he stared at her. "How the hell do you know?"
"Because Ev told me."
Tanner cursed under his breath. He clenched his fists.
"He told me it was a long-standing battle between you and Abby," Maggie went on implacably. "He said you used to argue about it daily."
"I mighta mentioned it once or twice," Tanner said to the wall. "I'm no damned agricultural economist," he gave the words a bitter twist, "so you can imagine how much attention Ab paid to what I said."
It was Maggie's turn to say a rude word. Tanner looked at her, shocked.
"If you can swear, so can I." She stood up abruptly and faced him head-on, "So what I want to know is, if you weren't mad about the sheep, just exactly why did you slam out of the house?"
Tanner jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Never mind." He stared away from her resolutely.
She reached for his arm and tried to turn him to face her. Her touch scorched him. He jumped as if he were burned, looked for an escape, but he was backed into a corner. Maggie stood between him and the door.
"No, I want to mind. I want to talk about it. And I want to know why it is that every time I come near you, you run off like some spooked stallion."
Because that was exactly what he felt like! "If it bothers you, stop comin' near me," Tanner snapped, still trying to edge away.
Maggie didn't move. "It is sexual." She said the words in wonderment, as if the revelation had just dawned on her.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean? What's sexual?" He felt as if his face was on fire. He almost couldn't say the word in front of her.
"Why you're running." Her expression changed. A smile replaced the wonderment.
"I'm not running!"
Maggie shook her head, still smiling, looking at him. "Yes," she said softly, "You are."
Hell. He gritted his teeth and looked away.
Suddenly her expression grew serious. "Don't you. . like women, Robert?"
His gaze whipped back to meet hers. "Damn! Of course I like women!" The tips of his ears were burning.
Maggie's smile returned. She sighed with obvious relief. "Well, I'm glad to hear it." Then she sobered. "So is it me?"
"Is what you?" He felt as if he were strangling.
"Do you think I'm going to attack you?"
God, didn't he wish! "No, damn it, of course I don't think you're going to attack me!"
"Perhaps you're afraid of sexual harassment."
"What?"
"Well, I am your employer. And it just occurred to me that you might be afraid of us having more than, um, a working relationship., that I might start to expect you to..." For the first time, Maggie faltered. Her cheeks reddened.
Tanner drew his tongue across his upper lip, unsure whether or not to be glad she seemed to be getting as flustered as he was. "I don't think you're going to jump my bones," he said gruffly.
"I won't," Maggie promised solemnly. Then she cocked her head. "But not because I haven't been tempted."
Tanner's eyes widened. He hadn't thought it was possible to feel any more uncomfortable. He was wrong. He swallowed. Hard. He scowled at her, expecting her to blush and look away.
But she was looking at him with frank appreciation and he was the one who ended up with the blush suffusing his face.
"Don't be ridiculous," he muttered, turning away from her.
"I'm not. You're a very handsome man. A strong man. A capable man. I'd have to be blind not to be attracted."
"You're not attracted," Tanner said hoarsely.
"Do you think if you keep telling yourself that, it will be true?"
"It better be true."
"Why?"
"Because," Tanner muttered. "Just because." God, why was she doing this to him? Did she enjoy watching him squirm?
"Because you're attracted, too?" He heard her move, heard her footsteps approach on the smooth plank floor. And then she was so close he could swear he felt her breath against his back.
He wheeled around to face her, breathing fire. "I am not attracted to you!"
Their gazes met, locked. They stood frozen in time for so long that Tanner thought they might stay that way forever.
Finally Maggie spoke. "Ah, Robert," she said softly. "Ab said it, but I didn't believe it."
"What are you talking about?" he rasped.
"She said you were always trying not to care. She said that you didn't want to. She said someday she hoped you'd stop lying to yourself."
"I've had enough of your meddling," Tanner told Abby. He stood, bareheaded, and kicked at the fresh-mown grass in the little hillside cemetery where lay the last earthly remains of Abigail Crumm. He was glad there was no one else around to hear him.
He felt sure Abby did.
"First you sic this city-slicker girl on me. Then you start tellin' her how I think. Hell, woman, when'd you ever know how I thought?" He paused, recollecting. "Well, besides the times you knew I was looking for a fight and you wouldn't let me find one." He scuffed his toe in the grass again.
"This isn't like that. This is different. You got no business meddlin' here. You had no business makin' me promise to stay. None."
He stared hard at her headstone, as if it might channel some sort of response.
"It was like you were matchmaking." He fixed the headstone with a hard glare. "Were you?"
This time he didn't need an answer. He could see Ab's enigmatic smile in his mind's eye, could see the teasing glint she'd have had in her pale green ones.
He shrugged. "It's part my fault, I suppose. You didn't know. I should've told you...about...about Clare. But you know now. I'm sure you know now. If you got to heaven, Ab, damn it, you've got to know! So you got to know it won't work!" He looked at the headstone pleadingly.
He sighed and bent his head. "Anyway, I can't do it any longer. I can't."
If he'd expected a voice from on high to liberate him from his promise, he was waiting in vain.
And even as he said the words, he saw Ab the way she'd been the day he'd made the promise. It had been only two days before her death. She was getting progressively weaker, but Tanner hadn't wanted to admit it at the time. Abby had known the truth. She, unlike Tanner, had never lied to herself.
"So, you're a better man than I am, Abby Crumm," Tanner said hoarsely now.
But even admitting it, he knew he owed her.
She'd given him a chance to show what he knew, to take all those years of working for some other boss and prove what he'd learned. She'd even given him the chance lo own his own ranch, but he'd been afraid to take it. She hadn't reproached him. She'd been quiet, but gentle. She'd understood.
And now he was standing here trying to break the one promise he'd made to her.
Why?
Because he was afrai
d. Afraid of his own emotions. Afraid of getting too close to Maggie MacLeod.
If he fell in love with Maggie, he'd want to marry her. And he didn't want to fail again. Not the way he'd failed Clare.
So go, he told himself. Maggie would let him leave. She wouldn't hold him to the promise he'd made Abby. She'd find someone else to run the Three Bar C until Andy was ready for the job.
Hell, she could probably ask Merritt to find her the best man in Wyoming.
And did he want that? Tanner asked himself.
He rubbed a palm across his face. God, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. He blinked rapidly, then stared out over the land. It was stark land, not very forgiving. It asked a lot of a man.
But it gave something back, too. It gave a man courage. It gave him self-respect. It gave him the guts to carry on year after year.
Or it crushed him.
The land hadn't crushed Tanner.
His promise to Abby might. Did he dare risk it? Could he manage his feelings long enough to show that same kind of courage where his promise to Abby was concerned?
He stared at Ab's headstone. It was granite. Gray and enduring. He knew it would outlast him, that it would reproach him every day of this life and the next if he didn't at least try.
The best thing about spring roundup, and something Tanner had never really appreciated until this year, was that when you were thinking about rounding up several hundred head of cattle, you didn't have time to think about anything else.
He didn't have time to brush his teeth or change his socks, much less moon about Maggie MacLeod.
He blessed Abby, considering the rigorous schedule divine intervention of a sort.
Instead of lying awake at night thinking about how Maggie looked in jeans or what it would be like to take her to bed, he worried about which cowboys would be available, which horses they would bring, how he ought to pair them up and send them out, and what sort of devilment the cattle would get into this time.
The advantage to this being his fourth roundup on the Three Bar C was that he was beginning to get a pretty good idea of just what sort of problems he could expect.
For the most part Abigail's herd was an easygoing lot. They didn't take one look at you and head off eighty miles an hour in the other direction. Most of the year, at least. Spring fever, though, seemed to take its toll on them as well.
As docile as they might be when there was just one or two cowboys lurking about, it was as if they had a sixth sense when it came to roundup. They seemed to know just when they were expected to cooperate—and then they did the opposite.
It was Tanner's job to outthink, outsmart and outma-neuver them.
He did this by lying awake at night plotting his strategy, figuring the number of cattle, the number of men, the savvy of their horses, the lay of the land. He threw in variables like temperature, wind, weather and who might not be able to make it at the last minute and whose horse might pull up lame.
And then he tried to think of alternative plans.
He knew as well as the next guy that there was just so far he could get with all the plans and alternatives in the world. But they were consuming, they were necessary and they did keep him from thinking about Maggie MacLeod.
Most of the time.
There was the odd moment, however, that fleeting instant when the sight or sound of her would catch him unawares. It was like being blindsided, knocked flat. One minute he'd be clearheaded and coherent, and the next he'd be fumbling for what he was supposed to be doing or saying or thinking.
"Reckon you might need training wheels for that horse?" Ev asked him finally, the night before the roundup. In the middle of explaining who was coming in the morning, Tanner had caught a glimpse of Maggie in the doorway and had turned so far that he almost fell off when Gambler stepped sideways.
He could feel the hot blood course into his face. "Just, uh, thought I saw something."
"You did," Ev agreed solemnly. Then he grinned and gave Tanner a knowing wink.
Tanner scowled, tugged his hat down, then looked away. He'd been keeping out of Maggie's way ever since he'd made up his mind to stay. It hadn't been too hard, given the amount of work he had to do. But still there were times he couldn't help but run into her. And at those times he did his best to appear as disinterested as possible. If Maggie thought it was amusing, she didn't let on. Ev did, because Ev saw more than any old man had a right to. But Ev, after Tanner had chewed him out about telling Maggie about the sheep, was a bit more circumspect. Still, it didn't stop him smirking.
The morning of the roundup dawned clear and cool. Tanner was up well ahead of it. It was still dark when he went to the house to eat. The lights were on and he expected to find Ev already cooking breakfast for the hands as they showed up. He found Maggie.
"Where's Ev?"
"He's got the flu." She filled a plate, and when she turned to hand it to him, he saw dark smudges under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept.
He wanted to ask if she was up to all this, Ev's work as well as her own, but he didn't want to sound concerned. Not about her, anyway. She'd take it wrong.
He took the plate she handed him and set it on the table, then turned and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. It was the first time he'd been up here since he'd moved out. He walked quietly along the hallway and tapped on the door to Ev's room, then opened it a crack.
Ev was lying huddled in his bed. He moaned, then opened one eye. "Checkin' to make sure I ain't faking it?"
"Of course not," Tanner said, ignoring a twinge of guilt at the accuracy of the remark.
"Hell of a thing to happen," Ev grumbled. "Poor Maggie." He fixed Tanner with a hard look. "I was gonna do most of the cookin' and she was gonna help outside. Reckon we'll be one person short now."
"Somebody'll show up."
"Well, if they don't, don't you go gripin' at her."
"Me?"
Ev snorted. "Don't go soundin' so blessed innocent. You ain't. You ain't hardly had a cheerful word to say to her in weeks."
"I haven't hardly talked to her in weeks!"
"That's exactly what I mean. Well, you talk to her now. You tell her everything's gonna be fine."
Tanner pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Tell her," Ev insisted. He moaned again, grimacing and holding his stomach.
Tanner sighed, tugged on his hat brim and backed out the door.
There were four cowboys packing away breakfast by the time he came back down. He sat at the table and began eating, too. When he'd finished, he took the coffee mug Maggie handed him and met her gaze.
"Thanks for the breakfast. It was good." His eyes flickered to the dishes filled with ham and bacon, eggs and sausage, pancakes and potatoes. "You're doin' fine," he told her, the way Ev had instructed him to.
He wasn't prepared for the smile that lit her face. It was like being socked in the gut. "Thank you," she said. She touched his hand.
For an instant his fingers closed over hers. Then he pulled his hand away, nodded his head, then raised his voice. "I'll be waitin' outside so we can get started."
The day was a blur of activity. By sunup eight crews were fanning out in various directions to round up and bring in the cattle. Only one bunch ran in the wrong direction and had to be regathered. Tanner, watching, felt lucky that that was all they'd screwed up. But he couldn't breathe a sigh of relief. With more than a hundred bawling babies being separated from their mothers, and more than a hundred mooing mother cows looking desperately for their mislaid children, there was plenty of work to be done.
The Three Bar C had always branded in what some people now thought of as "the old-fashioned way," using a regular iron, not a calf table and electric brands as some did now. The calves were all branded, their ears notched, their horns removed with hot lye paste. The bull calves were castrated. All the calves received a seven-way vaccine. It was hot, sweaty, dirty work.
And Maggie was right in the middle of it whenever Tanner looked around.
That was when she looked up and their gazes met. Her auburn hair was coming loose from the band she'd pulled it back in. Tendrils of it stuck to her cheek. She had a dirt smudge on her forehead and nameless muck on the front of her shirt. She looked about as far from a prim schoolteacher as he could imagine. She grinned at him.
In spite of himself, Tanner grinned back. Then, abruptly, he remembered how dangerous his feelings about Maggie were, how easy it would be to pursue her, to want her. He turned back to the corral and yelled at Andy to start bringing in another bunch of calves.
It wasn't until they were almost finished that Tanner noticed John Merritt was there as well. He was on horseback moving the mother cows and their calves back up toward the foothill pastureland.
Tanner stopped next to Andy as he let the last calves run back to their mothers. "What's he doing here?"
"Helping out."
"All the way from Laramie?" Tanner said sarcastically.
Andy glanced at him, surprised. "Maggie called him when Ev got sick in the middle of the night. Wanted to know if he knew anyone else who could help. He said he'd come."
"She didn't ask me. There are plenty of people hereabouts."
"Well—" Andy shifted uncomfortably "—I think maybe Maggie needs to, um, not be turning to you for every little thing."
"I'm the foreman, damn it!"
Andy gave an awkward shrug. "I guess it's just that...she's the boss."
Tanner's teeth came together hard. "Fine," he muttered. "She can get whoever she wants." He gave Gambler a nudge with his heels and set off toward the south pasture, as far away from Merritt as he could manage.
The barbecue was in full swing by the time the cattle were settled to Tanner's satisfaction. The hands and the neighbors and their families were all sitting at tables and on rugs under the cottonwoods, eating, talking and laughing. Even Ev was among them.