Angel stared at the man. He was nice enough but seemed to have one thing on his mind—finding a sweetheart—and she didn’t intend that to be her.
A buggy pulled into the lane and headed their way. Saved by Libby. “Sorry, cowboy, no can do.” She wrinkled her nose and grinned. “I’m a working woman and don’t have time to lollygag around town with lazy cowhands.”
“Lazy?” He drew himself to his full height. “Why, I can work circles around the rest of the bozos on this spread.”
“Arizona!” Libby called from the buggy as she drew her horse to a stop in front of the house. “I’m glad you’re here. Help me unload the supplies?”
He pasted on a sweet smile and nodded. “Sure enough, Miss Libby. Glad to be of service. Idle hands are a tool of the devil, my pappy used to say, and I sure don’t aim to be lazy” He shot a glance toward Angel, and a sly smirk peeked out.
Angel shook her head and stepped closer to the wagon. “Need my help?”
“Thank you. That would be nice.”
The two women each took a box of foodstuffs and Arizona followed, his arms laden with full burlap bags. The next several minutes were spent unloading and shelving the items, then they shooed the cowboy back outside. Libby examined the kitchen. “You left things in perfect shape. Thank you, Angel.”
“I, uh…” Angel avoided Libby’s eyes. How could she admit she didn’t know her way around a fancy kitchen? This pampered woman wouldn’t understand. What would she know of outlaw camps and deprivation? Nothing. And Angel didn’t care to educate her. “I wasn’t hungry.”
Libby planted her hands on her hips. “Not hungry? It’s past two o’clock and breakfast was hours ago. Why didn’t you cook something?”
Angel shrugged and started to turn away, but Libby touched her arm. “Angel. Do you know how to cook?”
Angel winced and pulled away. “I cook all the time.”
“I’m sure you do. Over a campfire. But how about on a kitchen stove?” Libby softened her tone. “Come on, I’ll help.”
Angel shook her head and took a step back. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Pooh. You work hard every day, and I’m sure you have an appetite. I’ll teach you to cook. It’s not hard.”
“I said I’m fine. Why does everyone want to change me?” Angel knew she was glaring but didn’t care. “I’ve never liked girly things and have no desire to learn.” She shook her head. “A woman like you wouldn’t understand.”
Libby crossed her arms. “And what kind of woman would that be?”
“You’ve had everything handed to you. You wear fine dresses, live in a nice house, and men probably fall over themselves in hopes of winning you. I’m guessing you’ve not had much hardship in your life. I wasn’t that fortunate and, quite honestly, I wouldn’t be any good at being a lady.”
Libby gave a short laugh. “You know nothing about me. And I don’t buy your nonsense about not wanting to be a lady, or you wouldn’t feel so jealous over what you think I’ve had.”
“I most certainly am not jealous.” Angel gripped her hands in tight balls to keep from lashing out. She’d learned to fight at an early age, but this wasn’t the time, as much as she’d like to put this woman in her place. How dare Libby think her jealous? Why, Angel had everything in life she wanted or needed. Everything…
Angel drew in a sharp breath. Except the one thing Libby seemed to take for granted—Lilly.
Libby tipped her head to the side. “You need to do some hard thinking about your life, Angel. Do you really want to dress like a man riding the range the rest of your life, or does some part of you want to settle down like other women?”
Angel tried not to wince. This conversation needed to end. She held up her hands. “I don’t care to be lectured. Please let Travis know I’m headed out. I’ll ask Smokey to put some grub together for me, and I’ll be out of your way.”
The hard set of Libby’s mouth softened. “Wait, Angel. I’m sorry.”
But Angel had heard enough. She spun on her heel and dashed from the room. No way could she let Libby see the tears threatening to spill over the rims of her eyes and down her cheeks. She’d head where she belonged—on the range tracking the varmints that were honest in what they did. unlike so many people she’d met over the years.
The next day, Angel pushed down her frustration and tightened her reins. Calves were still disappearing. Travis wouldn’t keep her much longer if she couldn’t prove her worth. She’d ridden over three hours this morning and had already seen two carcasses, but no sign of a wolf. In fact, there’d been no tracks near the kill, just churned-up grass where the mother must have fought for her baby. Poor mama. That’s one of the reasons she hated these predators. They had to eat, but she’d found too many dying animals that suffered horribly from wolf attacks. Strange. Typically a wolf pack dragged its prey a short distance from the herd and stayed till it was consumed, so there should’ve been tracks. She had to figure this out.
When she’d first arrived at Sundance Ranch nearly two weeks ago, her need for work had trumped everything else. But living in the ranch house had altered her view. Memories from her early childhood had started to return, when her parents were happy and no threats loomed. Laughter had been part of their life, and the cowboys’ antics at meals occasionally brought a smile to her lips.
Something was missing—something important. Beyond being lonely, beyond the security of having parents. Bella stumbled and snorted. Angel tightened her legs. Getting thrown from her horse this far from the ranch wouldn’t be smart, although she doubted Bella would leave her.
Something inside her felt empty. That’s what she’d been struggling to get a handle on when she’d argued with Libby yesterday. Libby said she’d want a husband and family someday, and she’d denied it, but she’d not told the entire truth. She loved her life and was in no hurry to give it up, but part of her longed for something more.
Uncle José had tried to bring a sense of family to her life, and a couple of the women in the outlaw band had done so when she was young. But looking back now, Angel wondered if they’d been trying to shine up to her uncle. Had they cared about her? She’d never know, and maybe it didn’t matter, but the thought stung. From the memories she had of her mother she knew she’d cared. She shrugged, trying to shake off the melancholy threatening to flood her.
Angel clucked to her mare, urging her into a canter. Time to check the butte with the gushing spring. She’d only been there once since her first day, and the place called to something deep in her spirit. Maybe she could find some answers there, and do her job at the same time.
A few minutes later Angel halted her horse close to a grove of trees ringing one side of the butte. Bella snorted and pranced— certainly not her normal steady behavior. An uneasy feeling niggled at Angel. She sensed someone—or something—watching her, but there’d been no sign of anyone. Could James have followed her without being seen? The boy had dogged her steps the first few days, but Travis had put a stop to that.
Angel urged her horse toward the trees and touched the butt of her rifle. No sense in taking any chances. Brush rustled on the far edge of the trees, and she turned her head. Nothing moved.
Silence lay over the grasslands and disquiet hovered over the wooded area nearby. Bella snorted again and shied sideways. Angel leaned down and stroked the mare’s neck. “Easy, girl. What do you smell? Something I need to worry about?”
She slipped the rifle from its scabbard and rested it across her lap, comforted by the feel of the wood and steel beneath her fingers. “Come on, Bella. Let’s get into the trees, and you can graze while I scout around.” Angel pressed her legs against the mare’s sides, and Bella bolted forward, breathing heavily. She plowed to a stop. Angel felt her stiffen. Bella reared, her front feet lifting high off the ground. The mare landed with a hard thump, her entire body quivering.
Angel spoke to her horse in a soothing tone, peering under the trees and into the brush. Nothing appeared amiss.
Suddenly a cow charged from the brush with a calf on her heels, racing away from the tree cover.
A blood-curdling scream rent the air.
Bella’s body tensed. She lunged forward and kicked out sideways with her back legs. A tawny form leapt from a branch partway up the nearby tree. Angel saw the gleam of golden eyes locked on hers. The big cat extended his front paws and bared its teeth in a snarl. He came within inches of landing on Angel and swiped at her as he fell.
Pain tore through her arm as the cougar’s claws shredded the sleeve of her jacket.
Angel lunged for her rifle but missed as it spun out of her reach, bouncing a few yards away.
The cat landed just beyond Bella and kept on running, its dark gold skin rippling over powerful muscles as it disappeared through the trees.
Bella charged across the clearing and headed for the butte, her neck stretched out and sides heaving. Angel held the reins with one hand and pressed her bleeding arm against her side, not trying to check the panicked horse.
She clung to the mare’s back, biting her lip against the searing pain running through her arm.
She should have known sooner that something was wrong— should have checked the brush where the cow and calf hid. Her arrival had given the animals the chance they’d needed to escape. If only she hadn’t been daydreaming about things that couldn’t happen. This ranch wasn’t her home and never would be. She’d best get her mind on business, or the next time she wouldn’t be so lucky.
Her mare’s frantic pace slowed, and Angel reined her to a stop, swinging down beside the water. Bella snorted and nudged her, then lowered her head to the grass and started to graze.
Angel stripped off her jacket, thankful for the heavy denim that helped protect her arm. She pushed up her sleeve and gazed at the pair of angry claw marks deep in her lower arm, extending from just below her elbow almost to her wrist. Blood ran in dark rivulets and dripped from her fingertips. The throbbing would intensify if she didn’t clean it fast.
The cold water gushing out of the rock face soothed her arm. If only the water could wash away the remnants of her past the way it washed away the blood from her wound. She continued to bathe it, hoping the icy temperature would slow the bleeding. Angel took off her shirt and, using her teeth, tore a strip of cloth from the hem, then slipped the shirt back on. Three tight wraps around her arm and she tied the ends just below her elbow. She slung her tattered jacket in front of her saddle.
Time to retrieve her rifle and see if she could find that mountain lion. He’d been plenty mad that she’d interrupted his meal and he wouldn’t give up stalking the herd. Funny she’d never seen his tracks before, but this big boy might be the mystery predator bringing down calves.
Her mare had edged away from the pool. It took three attempts before Angel grasped Bella’s reins, and she gave a light jerk. “I don’t need you running away on me, girl.” She placed her foot in the stirrup, gripped the horn with her left hand, stretched up with her injured right arm, and winced. No strength remained to grasp the back of the saddle. She tucked her arm against her body and stepped up, carefully balancing as she settled onto the leather.
A short time later Angel trotted her mount to the edge of the trees and peered under the overhanging branches. The sun reflected off the barrel of her rifle resting on a bed of pine needles. She raised her head and listened. Nothing. Chances were the cat had slunk away, planning on following the mother and baby. Strange, the pair had moved away from the safety of the cattle grazing by the pool.
Bella stood quietly, ears pricked forward and body on alert, then she slowly relaxed. Angel clucked to the mare and she walked forward, hesitating every few feet and giving an occasional snort. She danced sideways at one point, lifting her head and gazing around. Angel ran her hand down the length of her neck. “It’s all right. I think he’s gone.” Her horse quieted under her touch and dropped her head. “Good girl. Let’s go.” They moved ahead until Bella stood within feet of the rifle.
Angel carefully swung from her horse, grasped the gun, and tucked it under her arm. She stood for a moment, watching and listening, but nothing moved. No sound touched her ears other than the chirp of a bird calling its mate. A slight shudder shook her body as she thought of her close call. If Bella hadn’t bolted when she had, the cat would’ve landed square on Angel’s back, knocking her from the saddle and bringing certain death. How wonderful to be alive.
She walked to her horse, slid her rifle back into its sheath, and carefully mounted, gritting her teeth. A searing pain ran from her fingers up her arm, and she leaned against her saddle horn. Blood oozed through the bandage and her head swam. She hoped Bella had been traveling this range long enough to get her back to the ranch if she passed out on the way.
Chapter Nine
A week and a half had dragged by since Angel’s arrival, and Libby’s work had only increased. On top of the extra laundry, cooking, and cleaning, James was acting peculiar. She’d called him for breakfast three days ago, and he’d not been in his room. On closer inspection, she’d sworn the bed hadn’t been slept in, but that didn’t make sense. He’d shown up ten minutes later, claiming he’d been in the barn with a new foal. No time to worry now, with the dishes needing to be done. What a blessing Smokey took care of cooking breakfast and supper.
Smokey walked into the kitchen, toting another load of dishes. “This is the last of it, Miz Waters.”
She took the proffered stack and slid them into her dishpan. “Could you get me a little more hot water?”
“Sure.” He grabbed a dishrag, slid the kettle from the top of the woodstove, and poured steaming water into the pan. “Want I should scrub the table, or dry them dishes?”
“Drying would be nice if you don’t mind. I’d enjoy the company.”
His cheeks took on a faint rosy tinge, and he smiled. “Not a’tall, ma’am.” He swiped at a large platter and set it carefully aside. “You and that new gal gettin’ along all right?”
Libby winced. The man had a way of going right to the heart of an issue. “She’s—fine. Of course, I haven’t seen much of her. She spends most of her time working.”
“Ah-huh. I hear she’s good with that long iron of hers. Brought down three wolves the first day she went out with the boss. The men are still talkin’ about it.” He scratched his chin. “Somethin’ I been meanin’ to talk to you about, Miz Waters.”
She took another dish from the stack. “Please, Smokey. I’ve lived here almost four months. Can’t you call me Libby like everyone else does?”
“Nate don’t call you Libby.”
This time it was her turn to blush. She’d noticed the deference Nate used and hadn’t thought about it until she’d heard a couple of the cowboys whispering one morning. “Fine. If you insist.” She waved a sudsy hand in the air. “What did you want to talk about?”
He cleared his throat and shot her a glance. “Your boy.”
“James? Is something wrong?”
He shrugged. “Don’t rightly know. Was hopin’ you might tell me. I caught him crawlin’ into his window one mornin’.”
“Into his window? Not out?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you ask him about it?”
“I did, but he said it wasn’t none of my concern, so I didn’t press him. Thought you should know.”
“You didn’t tell Travis?”
“No, ma’am. He’s your son.”
Libby nodded, more grateful than she could express. “Thank you. When did this happen?” Her heartbeat increasing, she wiped her hands and placed the towel on the counter. After the incident a few mornings ago when she’d worried he might not have slept in his bed, this didn’t bode well.
“Yesterday. ‘Bout eleven o’clock at night. I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d take a stroll outside. Clear my head, know what I mean?”
She nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“I was headed back inside and heard a noise round the corner near the boy’
s bedroom window. He was standing on a big limb and steppin’ across to the roof. Made me think maybe he’d come out that way, too. But ‘course, I can’t be sure.”
Libby had seen James go out his window this way, just once. He’d been jubilant when they first moved here, and he’d seen the large oak tree with the limbs spreading so close to his window. It was natural a thirteen-year-old boy would pull a prank like this, but Travis had threatened to cut the limb. Her son had begged him to leave it, promising never to climb out again. Not that James could get seriously injured, as the limb was sturdy and only a foot or so above the gently sloping roof, but it wasn’t something she cared to have him do.
“Thank you, Smokey. I’ll talk to my son.”
“No problem, ma’am. Hope I haven’t stirred up too much trouble for the boy. I know youngsters like to play tricks, but I can’t imagine James was doin’ anything too terrible.”
The next few minutes passed in silence as they worked side by side. Smokey hung his towel on a peg and grinned. “Guess I’d best be thinkin’ on what to fix for supper.”
Libby groaned. “Does it ever end?”
He wagged his head. “Not with this hungry crew of grub lovers. But I’ve got a few hours. Think I’ll prop my feet up on the rail and take me a nap, if you don’t need me?”
“Have a good rest, Smokey. I’m fine.”
His boots clomped across the floor, and Libby heard the front door open and close. A few moments later the back door eased open, and Libby saw a flash of black hair. Why was Angel returning so early? Libby plucked a mug from a rack of shelves and poured it full of hot water. A cup of tea and a few minutes to rest would help put her world to rights—and maybe give her a chance to study on what James might be up to.
Angel tiptoed through the pantry and eased past the kitchen doorway, praying no one noticed.
“Angel?” Libby stepped toward the dining room. “Is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Love Finds You in Sundance, Wyoming Page 7