Silken Threads

by Barrie, Monica

  She had conquered her fear of horses to a large degree and had come to love the open, free life at Twin Rivers. Every day was a new experience, offering her unending glimpses into a new world.

  The beauty of the land was a constant reminder of her new feelings. Even the ranch hands seemed to treat her with less disdain and, while they did not reach out with welcoming arms, they no longer made her feel like an outcast. She sensed her friendship with Jane had a lot to do with it, because the people who worked on the ranch respected Jane Paulson. If Cassandra and Jane were friends, it stood for something.

  Cassandra was also getting to be very, very good at her job: in the four months she’d been managing Twin Rivers’ books, she’d saved almost ten percent of the quarterly budget and spent a good deal less than was spent for the same period the previous year.

  Not once had Kirk given her the simplest acknowledgement of her work. Kirk never complimented her; he only asked her to save more, to get more.

  Whenever he was near, tension gripped Cassandra, making it impossible to work. All that she could do was try to make her heart stop its endless aching.

  Pushing away the sad longing within her thoughts, Cassandra left the bathroom and began to dress. She pulled on a pair of now well-faded denims and tucked the cotton work shirt in at her waist. She buckled the two-inch leather belt that Jane had given her as a present and put on her boots. Dressed and ready, she went to the chair and picked up the nylon saddle roll, which waited for her.

  In the bag was a fresh change of clothing. Cassandra Leeds was going on the fall roundup. She was excited and scared half to death at the same time, but she was going.

  When Cassandra learned all the ranch hands were required to round up the cattle for shipping, she wanted to see what it would be like. She remembered scenes from the westerns, in which all the men lived out on the range, rounded up the cattle, and drove them to market.

  Although this wouldn’t be quite the same, there was an air of excitement hanging over the entire ranch. When she’d asked Jane, Jane had told her about this special time.

  There was a sense of returning to the past. It was a unique feeling, Jane had told her. ‘It made you want to stay out on the range forever’.

  Listening to Jane, Cassandra had found herself yearning to be a part of it. Her only hesitation had been because everything was done on horseback—everything. She would have to work with the hands, ride with the hands, and try to learn and do as much as possible.

  It had taken her only one long night of deep introspection to reach her decision. She’d come a long way from being the spoiled and naive city girl who had arrived at the ranch four months before with preconceived ideas that had been stripped away by the harsh facts of this new reality. She could sense the differences, which were now part of her. Still, she was not yet a member of the family, so to speak; she was still an outsider. She wanted to belong—she had to belong—if she was to accomplish what she’d set out to do.

  In the end, there had been no choice. That afternoon when Kirk came into the offices, she’d asked him to come into hers. After he’d entered, she’d closed the door, turned to face him, and asked if she could join the roundup. He’d stared at her, disbelief on his face.

  “There are no powder rooms on the range. No baths, no showers. You have to eat whatever there is, and you like it. There are no beds, only the hard ground shared with sweaty men working their tails off. Sorry, Cassandra, this isn’t for you.”

  Cassandra had almost backed off. Almost. She had stared at him, wanting to reach out to touch him, to hold him, but she didn’t. Instead, she shook her head to emphasize her reply. “I’m going.”

  “We have an agreement. You’re in charge of the office; I’m in charge of the outside. There was a reason for it. You don’t know enough about ranching. All you’ll do is get into trouble, or get in the way.”

  “It was your agreement, Kirk,” she reminded him. “You made it up. You decided what I would do, and what I would not. Not this time, Kirk. This time I go!” Cassandra watched Kirk shake his head. “This is ridiculous. Cassandra, there are a thousand reasons for you not to go. Besides the dirt, you have to be a hell of a good rider.”

  “I can ride,” she stated proudly.

  “I heard you rode around the corral a few times, but on roundup you have to know what you’re doing and know what’s going on around you. Last year rattlesnakes bit three men, experienced men. Do you like rattlesnakes?”

  “I must; I’m standing next to a big one right now. I’m going, Kirk!” As she’d spoken, she’d watched Kirk’s body tense. His eyes had narrowed at her insult, but she’d refused to back down. He’ taken a deep breath and Cassandra knew she needed to act.

  Before he could say anything, she spoke. “Who the hell do you think you are? You can take your egotistical, macho, demigod attitude and stick it up—”

  “You’re not going, Cassandra,” Kirk stated again, cutting her off before she could say any more.

  “—your nose!” she spat, finishing what she had started. “I’ll be ready the day after tomorrow. That is when you ride out, isn’t it?”

  Without giving him a chance, Cassandra had walked to the door, opened it, and stormed out. Only when she was halfway across the outer office, and she saw the curious stares of the three women at their desks, did she realize that with her grandstand play, she had walked out of her own office, not his.

  ~~~~

  Kirk stopped his horse on a low rise and surveyed the scene spread out below him. It was a picture-perfect dusk of coral shades blending into purple hues. Several thousand head of cattle moved together, and as they did, cowboys picked out and separated the ones ready for market.

  Off to one side Kirk saw the outrider he’d been keeping a constant check on. Cassandra was riding the flank of the herd, her responsibilities kept to an absolute minimum.

  Yet as cautious as he was with her, he had been surprised by her ability to ride and by her dogged determination to do her share. He had not expected it. He had thought once she’d realized the hardships of a roundup, she would head back to the ranch. He’d even made sure there was a vehicle available for her to drive.

  She hadn’t turned and run, she had waded in, all inexperience and awe, fighting to keep her head above water. She had not only succeeded, but if she kept on, she might even earn some grudging approval from the men. Maybe.

  While he thought about Cassandra, his eyes didn’t leave her. She was moving at a steady lope, when suddenly her horse stumbled. He tensed, but then saw everything was all right and she was still on the mare’s back.

  It wasn’t, he saw, as Cassandra and Jane dismounted to look at Suzi’s front leg. Digging his heels into the horse’s flanks, Kirk urged the mount into a quick gallop. A few moments later he, too, was looking at the mare’s fetlock.

  “She stepped in a chuckhole,” Jane began.

  “It was my fault,” Cassandra said quickly.

  “It was no one’s fault. These things happen. She’ll be okay after a couple of days’ rest. You’ll have to ride another mount tomorrow,” Kirk added.

  Cassandra nodded, surprised at the lack of anger in his voice.

  “Jane, you’d better give Cassandra a ride back to camp. We’re about finished for the day, anyway.”

  “Yes sir, boss man,” Jane replied with a smile. Once she was mounted, she offered Cassandra her hand and drew Cassandra up behind her.

  With Suzi’s reins in her hand, Cassandra wrapped her free arm around Jane’s waist, and they started back to camp, Suzi trailing lamely behind them.

  “I feel like a fool,” she told Jane.

  “You feel like a fool because your horse stumbled? At least you stayed on her back. Which is an accomplishment.”

  “When she staggered my legs locked so tight you would have needed a crowbar to get me off,” Cassandra admitted. Part of what she’d said was the truth. She just didn’t say how quickly her heart had reached her throat, and how a vision of a n
ine-year-old girl, hurtling along the ground, her foot caught in the horse’s stirrup, had lent strength to her legs and balance to her body.

  By the time her horse had recovered its footing, the fear had begun to drain. The fact she stayed on the horse’s back gave a boost to her flagging courage.

  “We’ll find a good horse for you in the morning,” Jane promised.

  “A gentle one.”

  Jane laughed as she nodded her head. “Did you really call him a rattlesnake?” she asked suddenly.

  “What? He told you?” Cassandra replied, surprised.

  “Kirk? No, but Thelma overheard the two of you going at it. She couldn’t wait to tell me.”

  “I’m still surprised he let me come along.”

  “I think he surprised himself, too,” Jane added, not elaborating on the fact she’d fought with Kirk when she’d learned he was refusing to let Cassandra participate in the roundup. Finally, Kirk had given up, but when he did, he put all the responsibility for Cassandra onto Jane’s shoulders.

  “You had something to do with it, didn’t you?” Cassandra asked.

  Jane shrugged. “Well, it’s like my cousin once told me. When you have a friend, value the friendship. Do whatever you have to, to keep it, ‘cause good friends are hard to come by.”

  Cassandra smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That must be some cousin you have. I’m looking forward to meeting him one day.”

  “Cassandra, I can’t wait for that day,” Jane said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

  ~~~~

  Five campfires lit the night. Sleeping rolls dotted the ground. The sound of cattle and horses accented the quiet of the night.

  It was almost nine. Most of the ranch hands were asleep. Cassandra sat on her sleeping roll and gazed out at the peaceful picture of the camp. Jane, lying in the bedroll next to her, was already in a deep sleep.

  Only about eight or ten men sat around the fires, their voices low as they told their stories. Cassandra listened intently.

  She had never before experienced days like this. The world that she’d come from seemed to have been made in a different time. She was relaxed, comfortable, and felt close to everyone around her.

  Sighing gently, Cassandra looked around the camp again. As she did, she saw Kirk’s tall, lean form walking away from the fires. She watched him, her heart aching again, as he disappeared into the night.

  Doesn’t he see I’m trying? Can’t he try, too? Making up her mind, Cassandra stood and followed Kirk. She left the low light of the campfires and walked into the darkness. She needed to speak to Kirk and to make him understand her.

  Pausing for a moment, Cassandra waited until her eyes adjusted to the dark. Eventually she saw Kirk’s outline a few yards ahead of her.

  ~~~~

  Kirk was physically tired, but his mind refused to allow him rest. He had sat by himself all evening, watching the way everyone interacted. By the time most of the hands were asleep, Kirk could not sit still any longer.

  Picking up a small pouch, he left the camp for the solitude of the night. He walked about thirty yards away from camp, where he leaned against a small rocky outcrop.

  Usually roundup meant a time of hard work and good feelings. It was a time to forget the little problems as well as the big ones and, for a few days, become lost in a time warp that denied the existence of civilization.

  Yet this roundup was different from any in the past, for civilization had joined him in the form of Cassandra Leeds.

  He hadn’t wanted her to be here. He hadn’t wanted the constant reminder that he was in love with someone with whom he could never be. Yet throughout the past two days, he had been hard-pressed not to watch her. His body had reacted with desire and his emotions were at the breaking point.

  He shored up his overtaxed self-control with all his might. He could see her long black hair flying out behind her as she rode flank, chasing a calf back into the main herd. It had been then when he’d grudgingly admitted to himself that Cassandra had surprised him with her ability to ride and to learn quickly.

  Still, she was still the little rich girl, the spoiled daughter of wealth who could no more live in his world than he could in hers. It was a hard and immutable fact and it burned incessantly in his mind.

  Taking a deep breath, Kirk opened the small pouch and took out his fixings. He placed a paper between his fingers and poured the brown shredded leaves into it. Quickly and expertly, he rolled the tobacco, licking the paper and sealing it with one smooth movement. When he was done, he took out a wooden match, struck it on his boot heel and lit the cigarette. As he shook out the match, he blew a fume of blue-gray smoke into the air.

  ~~~~

  Cassandra watched Kirk fiddling with his hands. She saw him bend and an instant later watched the flare of a match. She saw his face as he lit the cigarette.

  Surprised, Cassandra walked toward him. “I didn’t know you smoked cigarettes,” she said.

  Kirk stiffened at the sound of her voice. “Only on roundup. It’s a habit I got into a long time ago. It relaxes me.”

  As a boy, he had watched his father and uncle go through this ritual each night during roundup. They rolled a cigarette and smoked it just before sleep—ؙit was the only time they smoked.

  “I’ve never seen someone roll a cigarette before. For a minute I thought I really was in the old West.”

  “You can be wherever you want,” he told her, keeping his emotions on a tight rein.

  “Kirk, I know you don’t like having me here, but I still want to thank you for letting me come.” Even as she spoke, the tension grew thicker. His dark eyes were almost invisible, and she could not see the expression on his face. Get away! she wanted to scream.

  “Thank Jane, not me,” he said gruffly—too gruffly.

  “I already did. But you’re still the boss; I have to thank you.” Cassandra clasped her hands tightly behind her back as she spoke.

  Kirk took another draw on the cigarette as he gazed at her. “We’re getting up early. Don’t you think you should try and get some sleep?”

  Cassandra nodded. “I just wanted to thank you, and…and tell you....” She stopped, the words sticking in her throat. She wanted to tell him she was trying and all she wanted was for him to do the same. Straightening her shoulders, she stared directly into his face. “I’m trying, Kirk; I’m trying.”

  Kirk dropped the cigarette and ground it out beneath his boot. When he looked at her, he saw her eyes were still on him. “Go to sleep, Cassandra.”

  Cassandra shook her head sadly, turned, and walked away.

  Kirk stood still until she disappeared. He had wanted to pull her into his arms and crush his mouth on hers. Go home, Cassandra, please, he prayed silently.

  ~~~~

  The day came early, and Cassandra, who had slept fitfully, did not mind getting up. After a breakfast of scrambled eggs, biscuits, and coffee Lucy, the ranch cook, had prepared, everyone gathered their equipment and saddled their horses.

  Cassandra, with Jane at her side, approached her new mount. The horse, an Appaloosa gelding, was about the same size as Suzi but seemed to be a wirier and more muscled horse.

  “I suppose his name is Thor or something macho like that,” Cassandra ventured as she looked the gelding over.

  “I think Killer would be more appropriate,” Jane joked, trying to ease the tension she heard in Cassandra’s voice.

  “Very funny,” Cassandra replied. “Really?”

  “No, not really. He’s a spare, for just this situation. He’s a cow horse; he has no name.”

  “Oh …”

  “But he’s a good mount. Just show him who’s in charge,” Jane instructed as she bent to pick up Cassandra’s saddle.

  Cassandra beat her to it, and in one smooth and practiced motion, heaved the saddle onto the horse’s back. “Very nice,” Jane commented. Cassandra heard a note of pride in her voice.

  “I had a good teacher.”

  With the s
addle was cinched tightly and her equipment set, Cassandra stood next to the gelding while Jane saddled her horse.

  Twenty minutes later, they were riding flank on the herd, and Cassandra lost herself in the work, marveling at her newfound sense of freedom and enjoyment. She had exerted full control over the gelding, and by the end of the first hour, was almost as comfortable riding him as she had been with Suzi.

  The morning passed swiftly, and when lunch was over, the roundup continued. After cutting the herd to half its original size, they were just about finished. Tomorrow they would drive the herd to the pens in preparation for shipment.

  By mid-afternoon, Cassandra found herself riding with Jane and another hand. They were on the far flank of the herd when they spotted a lone calf off to the side. The calf was acting strange. In unison, the three riders went toward it. Drawing near, they slowed their horses.

  “He’s stuck,” Jane said, as she started to dismount. Cassandra saw the calf had caught its hind leg between two rocks and was trying vainly to get free.

  The other hand dismounted to help Jane. When he did, his horse seemed to shy away. “Damn!” the man spat as he jumped free of the stirrup.

  When he landed on the ground, his horse reared suddenly. Cassandra’s gelding snorted, and its body tensed.

  “Watch out!” the ranch hand yelled, backing away from a slithering reptile, which had suddenly appeared beneath his horse.

  The sound of rattles shattered the air. Cassandra’s heart pounded. Her horse shied and started prancing away. “Hold him!” Jane shouted.

  Cassandra couldn’t. The horse’s eyes rolled with fear, and he was suddenly rearing, his front legs flying high in the air, kicking out defensively.

  Cassandra fought to hold him back, but the powerful gelding refused to obey her commands and an instant later he was off in a panicked gallop.

  Cassandra’s heart tried to stop. The blood drained from her head, and tendrils of fear had her in a death grip. She grabbed the saddle horn tightly with both hands, the reins still clutched within them. She held on, fear adding strength to her grip as the horse ran madly out of control.