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Much Ado About Mavericks

Page 18

by Jacquie Rogers


  “Ready to ride, Jake?” he asked casually, as if Napoleon weren’t descending upon them.

  She nodded, then Suzanne said, “Uh oh, here comes the witch.”

  “Suzanne!” Mabel reprimanded, “you mustn’t speak of others that way.”

  “Even if it’s true?”

  “Especially then.”

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Patience warbled. Ben thought he’d be sick right there. She leaned against him in a way more familiar than proper and batted her eyelashes at him. “Are you ready to leave, dear?”

  He backed away from her, for all the good it did--she merely followed. “No, I’m riding in the money round.”

  “You know I disapprove.”

  “You know I disapprove,” Jake repeated sarcastically, while tilting her head and batting her eyelashes.

  Suzanne snorted and even Mabel smiled. A big belly laugh rolled inside Ben, aching to get out, but he held a somber expression.

  Patience whirled on Jake. “You’re nothing but an ignorant . . . an ignorant . . . man pretender. That’s what you are. You pretend to be a man. But you’re not. And you can’t have Benjamin!”

  “Now, ladies,” Mabel interjected, but neither of them paid her a bit of attention.

  Eyes narrowing, Jake growled, “Listen here, whore. I ain’t pretending to be a damned thing. I don’t flit around in red dresses with my bosom hanging out. And I don’t want Benjamin. You just play your little girly games and get the hell out of my sight.”

  Both of them glared at each other. Ben thought if it went much longer, Patience would get a kink in her neck. Then, out of nowhere, Patience slapped Jake on the cheek.

  Jake caught her arm and bent it behind her back.

  “Ow! Let go of me.”

  Ben stepped forward and separated them. “Let’s go ride, Jake.”

  “Good idea.”

  As they walked away, Patience yelled, “But Benjamin, I want you to take me home.”

  Ben kept walking.

  * * * * *

  “The money round horses are sure putting up a good show,” Whip commented. “Most of the cowhands haven’t stayed on over half a minute.”

  “Fred did good,” Jake replied. “A little more’n three minutes. That’ll be hard to beat.”

  “Ben’ll have it tough.” Whip cocked his head toward Ben, who was attempting to saddle the black stallion. “He done drawed the rankest mustang in the herd.”

  Jake had her doubts. “Think he’ll do it?

  “He just might,” the old man said. “At least, he might if he can cinch that damn saddle on.”

  Jake noticed the pride in the Whip’s voice. He must enjoy watching the man who used to be a scrawny kid show ‘em a thing or two. Sorta like she felt about her own strays. She’d be proud if Homer and Teddy turned out to be as fine a man as Ben. Hell, Henry, too.

  “He’s gonna do it,” Henry said as she wormed herself between them and the fence. “He can do anything.”

  Jake patted her head. “So can you, if you try hard.”

  Finally, Ben pulled the cinch tight and tucked the strap through the loop. The stallion quivered every muscle ready to explode, as Ben gingerly mounted the beast.

  Jake held her breath and worried her lower lip. He nodded. Crip and Slim ran for the fences as all hell broke loose. The horse snorted and grunted as he bucked high and hard. Ben pulled leather something fierce, his knuckles white, his jaw set, absorbing every punishing blow with his body.

  “One minute,” Slim called.

  The cowhands cheered and waved their hats. She winced when the mustang whirled and Ben’s head snapped to the side, but he rode on, leaning back and kicking the snot-blowing black into a frenzy.

  “Buck, you sonovabitch!” he yelled.

  “Two minutes!”

  Every single soul kept their gazes glued on Ben, urging him on. She couldn’t remember a wilder ride. “Hang on, Boston!” she yelled.

  The horse bucked harder, working up a lather, grunting in anger. Then he leapt over the fence, nearly knocking a couple of cowhands over, sunfished, and dumped Ben in a heap.

  “Two minutes and fifty-nine seconds!”

  “Again?” several shouted.

  But Jake watched Ben’s still form, her heart in her throat. He lay flat on his face and hadn’t moved a muscle since he wrecked. She ran to him, dropped to her knees and rolled him over.

  “Boston, you hurt?”

  He grabbed her and pulled her on top of him. “Just . . .” he wheezed, “ . . .ready for another ride.”

  * * * * *

  Patience paced across the Lawrence’s parlor, grumbling. Reginald and Whip had gone to Henderson Flats to retrieve her trunks, although the old man had complained that she’d be gone by tomorrow, anyway. But she still intended to make Benjamin her husband before she left, and one way or another that was just what she’d do.

  She’d told Reginald to bring a preacher back--she didn’t care what denomination as long as they were married in the eyes of God and the territory.

  And as soon as they were, she’d get rid of that peculiar woman who dressed and acted like a man. Patience didn’t trust her one whit. Especially around Benjamin, who seemed smitten by her earthiness. How disgusting!

  Mabel came in and took off her shawl. “Make yourself comfortable, Patience. The men will be back in an hour or so.”

  “It doesn’t take that long to get to Henderson Flats and back.”

  Mabel hung her shawl on a hook in the hall. “It does if you stop by the Silver Sage.”

  Patience shuddered, remembering the shady bartender’s impression of her. She only hoped Reginald didn’t drink himself into a stupor as he was wont to do. “I should have gone with them.”

  “No need for that,” she called from the kitchen. “Are you tired?”

  Tired of this uncivilized country and its detestable, ignoble inhabitants? Yes. “No, I’m fine.”

  She wanted to ask Mabel where Benjamin was, but didn’t think his mother an ally. “Benjamin asked me to marry him today. We’re planning to wed this evening.”

  There was a long pause. “Congratulations.”

  She didn’t seem appropriately enthusiastic. Didn’t she realize that Patience traveled at the highest levels of society? That through her, Benjamin would achieve fame and fortune? “I hope he comes to the house soon. He mustn’t be late for the wedding.”

  Mabel entered the living room with a tray of coffee and cookies. Patience much preferred tea, but held her tongue. The middle-aged woman still looked clean and pressed after spending the entire day out in the dust and sun. “He and Jake are tracking that stallion he rode in the money round. It’s still wearing the saddle and bridle.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  Mabel stared at her for a moment. “It’s his property and responsibility.” She poured coffee for both of them. “Cream or sugar?”

  * * * * *

  Ben’s head had ached like hell, but he wouldn’t have missed Jake’s ride for the world. She showed them all how it’s done—another four-minute ride and she walked away no worse for the wear than if she’d taken a stroll in the Boston Common. The strays had run and hugged her from all sides.

  His headache nearly gone, the smooth cadence of the big bay lulled him into a semblance of peacefulness. They’d trailed the stallion for several miles already, but still, he was nowhere to be found.

  “We’d better catch that critter soon. It’ll be dark in an hour, and we have to get up before dawn.” She cast a sideways glance at him. “Anyway, I do.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Your fancy lady don’t think so. She told Suzanne that the two of you’re getting hitched tonight. Which there ain’t much of left.”

  “I’m sending her home on tomorrow’s stage. She agreed.”

  “Sure ‘nough. Except she thinks you’ll be on that stage with her. Told Suzanne that.”

  Ben groaned. When he associated with Patience in Boston, he’d never
realized what a nuisance she was. He’d escorted her to the balls and soirees, had a picnic or two with her, and stolen a few kisses. But she’d always been sweet and accommodating. Until now.

  At that moment, he made his decision. He couldn’t live the rest of his life with a woman who mistook his mother for a servant or who thought his ranching roots were too lowly for Boston. She’d throw it in his face at every opportunity. Was a senior partnership worth it? Maybe there was another way.

  “Jake, I’m not going to marry her. Not now, not ever.”

  “Best you be careful then.” She reined her mount to a stop. “Lookee there,” she whispered as she pointed to a little gully to the left. She uncoiled her rope. “You circle around and drive him this way. I’ll catch him.”

  Turned out, that was the easy part, finding him, that is. He didn’t want to be caught and he sure didn’t want to be roped. Damn near tore Jake right out of her saddle before she dallied. The stallion reared and yanked on the rope. Her blue roan strained to keep the rope taut, not an easy task since the stallion circled and reared.

  “Catch his front feet the next time he does that,” she yelled.

  Ben readied his loop. Roping a pair of horns stuck in a pile of hay didn’t quite prepare him to catch the slicing hooves of a rearing stallion. Studying the horse’s rhythm, he let loose and caught one. Well, one was better than none. He dallied and the bay set his hind quarters and backed up.

  “Pull back slow, so’s the black don’t hurt hisself.” Jake slid off Blue, a well-trained cowpony, who kept the rope taut as she approached the stallion’s slashing hooves. “Pull harder now—put him on the ground. Soon as you do, I’ll bite his ear. You come take off the tack.”

  Sounded easy. Wasn’t. Apparently this horse didn’t know that biting his ear was supposed to calm him. He threw his head around, but Jake hung on like Beeman’s chewing gum.

  Ben dashed in from the behind the thrashing horse to work the cinch loose, then chased the black’s head around to unbuckle the bridle. The stallion’s mouth had bled a little, and Ben felt sorry for the brute. He just wanted to be free. They had that in common.

  “Dammit, Boston, hurry up!” Jake growled as the stallion pitched her around.

  “Just about done.” With one last tug, the bit fell from the horse’s mouth. “Let him go.”

  He grabbed Jake by the waist and flung her away from the stallion as hard as he could, worrying that she’d be off-balance and take a hoof in the face.

  The mustang raced away, leaving a trail of dust. “You all right?” he asked.

  She stood and slapped the dust off her shoulders. “I guess so. I’m still breathing, which is more’n I can say about you last time you rode him.”

  He picked up her bent Stetson and handed it to her. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “Hell, this one’s just getting broke in good.” She put it on as she walked to her mount. “Let’s go. Your woman’s waiting.”

  “She’s not my woman.”

  “That ain’t her way of thinking.”

  * * * * *

  Jake planned her getaway as soon as she saw Patience perched on the porch rocker.

  “It’s about time!” Patience stood and glared at Ben.

  “I’ll be heading on to the Circle J,” Jake told Ben. “See you at dawn.”

  Every time she saw Patience, she thanked the Good Lord above for planting her in the Idaho Territory. She dismounted in front of the barn and tied up her horse. Teddy and Homer ran to meet her. “Henry’s pony took sick, and tomorrow’s the roundup.”

  She ruffled Teddy’s hair and sighed. “Has Whip taken a look at her?”

  “Yup,” Homer replied. “They’re out back. Wanna see?” He took her hand and tugged.

  “For a minute, then I gotta take care of my horse. He’s seen some hard work tonight.”

  She followed the boys around the barn. Henry sulked while Whip ran his hand over the pony. The second she saw Jake, she rushed over and grabbed on. “Trick’s sick,” she bellowed. “She won’t die, will she?”

  Jake sent Whip a questioning look.

  “She’s just dry. Needs some water.” He led the pony to the well. “Fetch a bucket, Henry. Then start pumping. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  He stepped over to Jake, and in a low voice he said, “We can’t put Trick in with the other horses--they won’t let her eat or drink. Don’t know what that means for Henry on the roundup. How’s her seat?”

  “Fair. Gotta have a well-broke horse, though. She ain’t strong enough yet to handle a spirited mount.”

  Whip nodded and said, “I’ll see what I can do. But I’m telling you one thing, that little critter ain’t staying with Mabel, so don’t get no ideas about leaving her behind.”

  Jake couldn’t imagine why she’d leave without Henry. Mothers didn’t ever leave their young’uns--except Henry didn’t know she had a new mama. And Jake wasn’t sure yet that she could handle the job.

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be heading out with the rest of us.” She paused, not sure if Whip would take right what she wanted to ask. “Uh, do you think Ben’ll be with us, or with that woman?”

  Whip chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “He turned out a right handsome young feller, didn’t he?”

  Jake didn’t dare answer, but the very sight of him turned her guts to mush.

  “I’m willing to bet he’s stronger than you think he is.”

  Finally, curiosity got the best of her. “How come you’re so interested in him, Whip? You don’t pay much attention to the other hands.”

  He pulled out a pouch of Bull Durham and took his time rolling a smoke. “I s’pose just because I knew him when he was just a sprout.” He took a drag and offered her the pouch. “Want one?”

  “Naw, too much to do. You got the chuckwagon loaded?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good. I’ll check with Crip and Slim to see how they’re doing with the horses.”

  “I think everyone’s ready for this here roundup except you, Jake.”

  He might be right, she mused as she walked to the bunkhouse.

  Chapter 13

  Ben shaved, dressed, and quietly left the house before the first rays of dawn shown over the Owyhee Mountains. He only hoped that Patience slept through the racket that went along with starting a roundup. She still refused to accept that he wasn’t going to propose to her, but maybe Reginald could talk some sense into her after Ben left.

  Several men already stood around in front of the barn. Whip slapped the reins and drove the chuckwagon out of the yard, getting a head start to set up the first camp. Jake stood outside the bunkhouse talking to her crew. Ben headed her way, hoping all the men were there so they could get the hell away from the ranch. Patience made him nervous.

  He’d given his mother the money to purchase fare for Patience and Reginald. When he knew the two of them were back in Boston, he’d feel a whole lot better. As far as the senior partnership, well, it would have to be negotiated. From the way Patience had treated his family and friends, he’d never agree to marry her in order to attain the status in the firm he’d already earned.

  The three children mounted their ponies. “Let’s go, Jake!” Teddy hollered.

  Ben patted Teddy’s little Welsh pony as he passed by on his way to Jake.

  She laughed and wagged their finger at the kids. “You just wait till the hands is all here. A couple of brands ain’t showed up yet.” Then she turned to Crazy Jim and said, “I’d like to have a whole damned crew be as willing to work as them strays.”

  “Who’re you waiting for?” Ben asked.

  “The Rocking JW ain’t here, but hell, they’re always late. I was expecting the Flying K to be here on time, though. The two of ‘em counts up to about twenty cowhands and over a hundred horses.”

  “I see the Lazy B hands are on time.” He spotted the Blackers talking to their crew in front of the barn. “I think I’ll go talk to Pete--we were in the same grade when I was
a kid.”

  “Just make sure he knows who’s in charge,” Jake grumbled.

  Ben didn’t think there could ever be a doubt about that. He strode across the barnyard to the Blackers. Circumstances pointed to them as the culprits in the fence-cutting and the creek damming. But Ben had known the family since his birth and he had a hard time convincing himself that the old man would do such things. Still, it behooved him to keep an eye on the two of them.

  He greeted them with a tip of his hat. “Harley. Pete.” Pete offered his hand and Ben shook it. “Good to see you back in Owyhee County.”

  “Good to be back. I had to travel all over the East Coast and Europe to realize that there’s no better place to live than the Owyhees.”

  “Hell, if you were on the East Coast, why didn’t you come to see me? I’ve been in Boston for the last eight years.”

  Pete shuffled his feet and looking at the ground, he said, “Well, you might say I wanted to get away from this country and everything in it, fool that I was.” Meeting Ben’s gaze, he added, “I heard you’re to be married.”

  “You heard wrong.” Ben didn’t want to go into the whole sordid story while everyone was listening. He laughed and said, “I just hope we get the hell out of here before she wakes up.”

  In answer to his prayers, both brands did ride in. The Lazy B and Bar EL hands mounted up, and within a few minutes they were gone. The sun hadn’t even risen over the mountain yet--must be a little before seven o’clock. The stage left at ten. In just three hours he’d feel a whole lot better.

  Pete rode up beside him. “You think your woman will take a hint?”

  “Doubt it. And she’s not my woman. Hell, she’ll never be anyone’s woman.”

  “I danced with her Saturday night--she’s very pretty.”

  “She is that.” If you like your women short and blonde.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s quite a flirt.”

  Ben didn’t respond. If Pete wanted her, let him have her.

  But Pete had other ideas. “Suzanne has certainly grown beautiful in the last couple of years.”

  “My sister has always been beautiful.”

  “Yes, but she’s a woman, now.”

 

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