West Winds of Wyoming

by Caroline Fyffe

  “It’s time,” Hannah announced. “I need to be going. Should I ring the bell on my way out the door?”

  The room was filling up right before Brenna’s eyes. Penny came in, followed by Jane, Prichard, and several other children. Stevie was nowhere to be seen. Ringing the bell wasn’t going to be necessary, but it was a town tradition that on the first day of school, when the first bell of the school term was rung, everyone who heard the pealing came outside and clapped.

  Jessie shook her head and started for the door. “The teacher should be the one to ring the bell, Hannah,” she said, and she gestured for Brenna to come along outside. “I’m so proud of you, Brenna. What an accomplishment.”

  “You’re right, Jessie,” Hannah said, nodding approvingly. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  The three women walked to the door and then out onto the porch stoop. As Brenna reached for the rope hanging down from the bell tower, Shane lurched up in Jessie’s arms and grasped the thickness in his hands, pulling down with gusto.

  The bell rang out loudly, announcing the term had begun for another year. The sound of cheering and clapping from Main Street made the women laugh. Brenna couldn’t resist Shane’s proud expression and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Shane Logan. You’re a handful for your mama already. I can’t wait to see you in a few years.”

  “And that’s an understatement,” Jessie said, shifting Shane to her other hip. “I’ll see you when school lets out.”

  Brenna took a deep breath, turned, and walked to the front of the class. Her heart tripped seeing all the faces waiting patiently for her to say something. Anything. Brenna reached deep inside, remembering the tiny, tattered memory of her mother. “There’s not a single thing in this world you can’t accomplish, sweetness, with hard work, fortitude, and love. Just set your mind to it and march ahead. Never let anyone rob you of your dreams.”

  Brenna swallowed nervously and rubbed her moist palms together. “Good morning, class. I want to welcome you to another school year.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Charlie hauled down on the wrench until the bolt he was tightening wouldn’t go any farther. He looked up through the crisscrossed boards of the windmill, through the slowly turning metal blades, to the sky, dotted with clouds and a V-formation of geese flying south. The sight brought a smile to his face. He’d been tinkering on the wind-power device for a good hour, musing the time away thinking about Maddie, Brenna, and, of course, Nell and the mess he’d made of the situation last night.

  He’d already cleared the leaves from the crystal-clear water in the holding tank. The land in the aftermath of the storm was fresh. The scent invigorating. Moist earth gave easily beneath his boots, but the patch of grass under the windmill kept the ground from being muddy. The cool breeze felt good and he took a long draw, filling his lungs. He picked up the can of grease and took hold of the boards, climbing up. He set the small container in the crook of two boards.

  This was hardy land, good land, land that could heal anything that ailed you, even a broken heart. Especially a broken heart. He thought of dancing with Nell and at the same time he thought of Annie. What would she expect of him? What did he expect of himself? Things had gotten muddled in his mind and the reason didn’t have anything to do with the bottle of wine they’d consumed. His thoughts came back around to Nell, and who might have been on that ridge. He had his suspicions but couldn’t be sure. That rider could’ve been anyone.

  Too many unknowns to know anything. Last night when he’d heard the noise in the kitchen, he’d been sure Galante, or one of his men, had found him. Truth be told, he’d been sick with worry for Nell. The advice the Wilsonville sheriff had given him popped into his mind. “If I were you, son, I wouldn’t wait around for Galante to make good on his promise. He’s mean and he’s driven. I know you have every right to stay in Wilsonville, but for your little girl’s sake, maybe you should clear out.”

  Although the sound turned out to be made by a raccoon, the incident reminded him to get to town and deposit his money in the bank, where his life savings couldn’t be stolen. Everything he’d worked for was in those saddlebags. The means to get Maddie settled and hire a tutor. A saddlebag under his cot was not secure.

  Just as Charlie reached up to tighten the last bolt within his reach, Nell came out the kitchen door.

  If he hadn’t known she’d been in a world of hurt just hours before, he’d never be able to tell as she crossed the yard toward the barn. Her face was alight in thought. Her hair was pulled behind in a ponytail and her hat hung down her back. The skirt she’d worn last night was replaced with her usual denims and leather chaps, and a leather vest he’d never seen before hugged her upper body in a fascinating way. A lead rope, gathered in neat loops, hung over one shoulder. The memory of her standing in his arms distracted him and his hand slipped, causing his knuckles to grate across a metal joint painfully.

  He bit back a curse, then pressed the tops of his fingers against his pants. Angrily, he shoved the agitating memories of Nell out of his mind. If he daydreamed about a woman, it should be Brenna, not Nell.

  Nell was just about to pass by the windmill when he called out to her.

  She stopped abruptly. Searched around. When she found him perched in the legs of the windmill, she smiled brightly. “Morning,” she called up.

  He was in more trouble than he realized.

  Looking up through the blades again, he gauged the sun’s straight-up position in the sky. It must be about noon. “I’d say you just made it.” He returned her smile, tired of all the pondering he’d been doing on his problems. All he wanted now was a nice, uncomplicated day.

  “What the heck are you doing up there?” She placed a hand on her hip.

  “What do you think? Ranching chores.”

  She laughed and the sound made his breath catch. “You sure? Looks like you’re hiding from somebody.”

  “Not the last time I checked. How’re you feeling?”

  She shrugged. “Better. Now it’s time to get moving on those sassy-pants colts.” She gazed at the one he’d roped earlier and moved to the round pen. “You want to start with Cochise?” Her brows rose. “He’s one of the greenest of the bunch. Why him?”

  The leggy chestnut gelding with the small, white star still wore the rope halter with its three-foot length of rope attached, which was meant to make catching him somewhat easy. The short tether was frayed and dirty. The horse had his head down, uneasily sniffing the dirt and manure scattered about.

  “Because he’s the one my loop happened to land on. Didn’t think you’d mind.” He’d been aiming for a smaller, calm-looking colt, but this was what he’d gotten.

  “I don’t mind at all, but I think you might.” She glanced around. “Seth ever come home?”

  “He did. Around seven this morning. He got a bite to eat and now he’s ridden out to check the cattle.”

  “Did he say where he’d spent the night? The Logans’? How’s his cough?”

  Charlie laughed. “That’s a lot of questions, boss. You must be feeling better. I didn’t ask where he spent the night because men don’t do that—and he didn’t offer.” He gave her a long look. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

  “Did you tell him what you told me about the horses?”

  That’s why Nell was in such a good mood. She’d been thinking about the horses and how it could help the ranch if they were able to round them up and get them back. It was a good idea, though a difficult job to accomplish. “I did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He’s interested. Wants to head out tomorrow or the next day.”

  Nell plunked her hands on her hips. “I’ve been thinking about that. I think it best he stays behind. He’s worn thin from his last trip and needs some rest. Besides, someone has to get these geldings started. The job won’t get done on its own.”

  “Rounding up those horses will be impossible for the two of us. We need Seth.”


  “You’re right about that. Instead of Seth, I’m gonna see if Chase Logan will lend us a couple of his hands. Most of the ranch work is done with branding and sorting by now, and most of their hay should be brought in. I’m sure he has some men we can use.”

  “You have the whole thing all planned out, don’t you.”

  “Pretty much. This could be the break we’ve been waiting for and I’m not letting it slip through our fingers.” She started for the round pen. Cochise picked his head up and trotted to the far side of the corral, where he watched her approach with suspicion. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “You coming, Charlie?”

  The boulder in his stomach told him he’d met his match with Nell. And now, to make last night’s blunder worse, he’d be working side by side with her for the whole day. “Yes, ma’am. Right on your heels.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  An army of lightning bugs had hatched in Nell’s stomach, flashing here and there as if proclaiming, She’s in love, she’s in love. She jerked her gaze away and started for the corral before Charlie noticed her stare. One second of his blue-eyed gaze, the amused tip of his lips, and the humorous note in his voice sent her imagination running wild like the horses they’d brought in just days before. How pathetic!

  The crunch of his footsteps made her think of last night and the kiss they’d shared. How they’d danced slowly around the kitchen by the light of the single candle. She’d never forget the way he’d made her feel. Cherished. Desired. And then later, standing in his arms after the raccoon had woken them, protected.

  At the corral fence she studied their pupil as Charlie caught up. Cochise seemed relaxed, having gotten used to the barn and house area over the last few days. The gelding knew something was up, though. He watched her warily from across the twenty-foot enclosure.

  Charlie grasped one of the poles in front of him, the light wind tossing his hatless hair. “So, what’s your plan? You want me to go fetch your saddle?”

  She hid her smile. “Your saddle? Yes, I do.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why my saddle?”

  “Because you’re going to ride him.” When his Adam’s apple bobbed, she asked, “Anything wrong?”

  “Not a thing. As a matter of fact, when I roped him I hoped I’d get the first go.” Charlie gave the animal another quick glance. “He’s a fine-looking horse.”

  She laughed. “You were not.”

  “You don’t know everything about me, boss.”

  “You’re right about that. But I do know you’re not a bronc buster—but there’s no time like the present to rectify that shortcoming.”

  He turned and sauntered over to where Georgia stood at the hitching rail in the barn’s shade. Within moments he had the heavy western saddle off and carried it toward the round pen as if the burden weighed nothing at all. Slinging his rig over the top rail, he turned to her and held out his hand. “The rope.”

  Nell shrugged the lead rope off her shoulder and tossed it to him. He caught it midair and slipped it through the bottom two poles. On the other side of the round pen, the gelding instantly turned his hip to Charlie and flattened his ears.

  She was teasing him, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like singing today. Surely Charlie wouldn’t have kissed her if he wasn’t attracted to her, would he?

  “Whoa, boy,” Charlie crooned as he slowly walked toward the horse. He held the rope behind his back in one hand and the other he stretched forward, open palmed. The gelding swung back around to face him, and Nell could see his muscles gather. When Charlie was halfway across, the horse dropped his head and bolted, loping the rails in a circle.

  Nell pursed her lips to keep back her smile.

  Charlie looked around at her, his brow furrowed. The young horse, full of spunk, bucked a couple of times before picking up speed. In an effort to stop him, Charlie took one step toward the rail, not in front of the charging horse but enough that the animal did a handy roll back on the fence and started in the opposite direction.

  Nell let out a chortle. “You two going to do that all day?”

  Charlie didn’t appear so amused anymore. “You have a suggestion?”

  “Yes. First off, climb on out here and let him run the bugs out. Then we’ll start again.”

  Charlie stomped back, clearly annoyed, again cutting the gelding off. The colt slid to a stop and snorted loudly, drawing Georgia’s glance from the hitching rail. When Charlie was back outside the corral with Nell, she leaned onto the fence. Feeling saucy, she lifted her leg and hooked her heel on the first rail.

  Charlie slapped the lead against his legs. “Go ahead and say what you’re dying to. I can see you have more than one suggestion for me.”

  “You’re right. First, think about the horses out on the range. Picture them grazing and moving around. Then, act like them.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Act like a horse.” His tone was pure skepticism.

  “Well, yes. What I mean is, never approach a skittish horse straight on, and never look him directly in the eye.”

  “I just did that.”

  “I know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I had fun watching.”

  He harrumphed. “Good of you. What else?”

  “Approach from the side. When you get close enough, angle your position so your head is sort of close to the horse’s shoulder, as if you mean to smell his scent.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “That’s how horses get acquainted with each other. Next, move closer to his face so he can smell you.” She grinned. “Even though he’s acting pretty full of himself now, he is halter broke. I’m not saying you always have to do this—not with a horse that already knows you, just the edgy ones. Shows you’re not going to hurt them. However, I wouldn’t try it with Cochise until you’ve gotten a hold of the short lead. Make sure he can’t turn around and kick you.”

  “You’re making this up to make me appear a fool. Like sending me out to buy striped paint.”

  The chestnut had stopped circling the corral and stood on the other side of the pen, watching them debate.

  Her fingers itched to push back the hank of hair that had fallen over Charlie’s forehead. Feel the texture on her fingertips. Soothe away all the injustices he may have suffered as a youth. “Striped paint?” She softly laughed. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience, Charlie Rose. Care to elaborate?”

  “No. I’ll just say I had an older brother whose day wasn’t complete until he had a good laugh—usually on me.”

  Nell shrugged. “I’m not making this up. You can ask Seth when he gets home.”

  He handed her the rope. “Why don’t you demonstrate for me, then.” Why not? She took the challenge and ducked between the rails. “And no using any of your ooglie-booglie mind-reading ability right now. Just pretend you’re me.”

  The gelding was still breathing harder than normal from his exertion. Keeping the rope behind her back, Nell approached the side of the horse, keeping her face turned away. Cochise lowered his head for a moment before it came up like a flag, and yet he didn’t bolt off. She stopped for a few seconds. This could easily go either way since the horse was already tense.

  “Whoa, big boy,” she all but whispered. She felt his energy bunch, but the gelding stayed where he was. He put his head down and sniffed the dirt.

  “Whoa, boy,” she said again. “Whoa, now.” As soon as the horse turned his attention on Charlie, Nell slowly reached for the frayed lead. When she took hold he shied, but Nell stayed calmly by his shoulder and stepped forward with him. She let him settle. She stayed there a good three minutes without moving. Then, still not looking him in the eye, she clipped on the longer lead she held in her hands. She let her arm and hand linger while he got her scent. Moving slowly, she reached up and put her hand on his neck. She stroked him once, then moved her hand up toward his jawbone, where she pressed firmly with one finger until he took one step away. Satisfied,
she started for the pole sunk deep in the center of the pen and secured him there.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Disbelief was written all over Charlie’s face. “Honestly, I didn’t think you could do it.” As she walked toward him she took off her hat and wiped her forehead with the back of her shirt sleeve. “You do this with all the army horses?”

  “I wish we could, but no. Only when we have the time. Like I mentioned earlier, he was started a few months ago, before being turned out. He’s been haltered, tied, and had a saddle on his back at least twice. He just needs to be reminded what we want from him. We’ll leave him to stand now for a while and go catch up a few more.”

  There it was again. The concern in his eyes that did strange things to her insides. Had someone upstairs sent him her way, knowing how desperately lonely she’d been this past year? The notion was nice to think about, possibilities of a greater power watching over her and Seth. She didn’t much believe in things she didn’t understand and yet she didn’t not believe, either.

  Charlie stared at her for so long she began to feel uncomfortable.

  “You got something on your mind?”

  “Yeah, about last night, Nell. I wanted to explain that—”

  Afraid of what he might say, she shushed him. “These things happen.” Where did that come from? Not really. At least not to me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He let go a big sigh. “Good. Didn’t want my hasty actions to ruin our friendship.”

  Friendship. Her stomach tightened.

  “Was also hoping to ride into town this afternoon.”

  This time a stone dropped inside. Brenna. His face was turning red. If there was ever a guilty party, it was him.

  “I have business that needs doing that I couldn’t do yesterday because it was Sunday.”

  “Sure. You could go right now, if you have a mind.”

  He scoffed. “No. We’re working the horses. I just need to get there before the bank closes.”