Much Ado About Mavericks

by Jacquie Rogers

  “Hell, Boston, I can take care of my own damned horse.”

  Tossing the saddle by her bedroll, he winked at her. “Everyone needs help now and then, Jake. Even you.”

  Chapter 14

  Another day--another aching back, Ben thought has he crawled out of his rocky bedroll. When the rocks didn’t stab him, his dreams of Jake did. All in all, he hadn’t had decent sleep for two nights straight.

  Henry, with the boys in hot pursuit, ran square into him, then hid behind him. “You touch my hair again and I’ll bash your face in!”

  Grinning, Homer and ran for her. “Jake said we wasn’t to fight during roundup.”

  “I don’t care. You pulled my hair and I’m a gonna bloody your nose.” She dashed from behind Ben and clipped Homer in the jaw. Ben was impressed with her right jab, however inappropriate.

  “Jake!” Homer howled. “Henry broke the rules. Now she has to go back.”

  Jake threw her plate in the wreck pan and ambled over to Homer, where she stood feet apart and hands on her hips. “There ain’t no rules if you pulled her hair.” She turned to Henry and said, “Give him your best shot.”

  The two of them ran off, and Ben wasn’t sure if that situation had been resolved quite right, or not. He chuckled and put his boots on.

  While Jake and the children seemed to bounce from bed like spooked antelope, it took a little time for Ben to get his bearings on the day. Even more so when he hadn’t had any sleep. But Whip’s coffee and the smell of potatoes frying in bacon grease helped sweep the cobwebs out of his brain. Lord knew, he’d die before he let anyone, let alone Jake, know how miserable he felt.

  The cattle mooed in the distance. In no time flat, he’d be working his butt off. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip, burning his tongue. Damn! And then a gust of wind blew his hat off and he had to go chase it. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be his day.

  Jake handed him a plate of fried potatoes and a couple of sourdough biscuits. “Eat hearty, Boston, because I’m gonna work your ass off today.”

  He didn’t doubt it. Less than half an hour later, he’d saddled the big bay, built a hell of a bonfire, and placed an iron from each of the four ranches in it. “We’ll start with one fire, then when we get more cattle in, I’ll make a couple more. With this wind, I don’t feel like fighting a range fire today.”

  Jake nodded, looking preoccupied. Finally, she said, “Aw, hell, I don’t remember what that blasted will said you have to do, or what I have to count.”

  “I damn well know.” He recited, “Ben must work the ranch as a ranch hand for three months, including roundup. He must rope and brand at least one-fourth of the calves, and participate in all aspects of the ranch operation.” He shook his head at the amateur wording. “So according to that, I have to rope the calf, jump off my horse while someone else gets on, and brand that same calf. Then get back on the horse and do it all over again.”

  Frowning, she coiled a rope and threw it around the pommel. “That’s downright stupid. It’ll take more’n twice as long to get the job done. Hell, we’d be working out here till the snow flies.”

  “Don’t worry yourself about those stipulations, Jake. Just work me like you’d work any other cowhand. I’ll take care of the rest later.”

  She pursed her lips and stared at him for a moment. “And if you don’t? Harley Blacker’s tried several times to run you back to Boston--cut fences, dammed the creek. He’d yell like a stuck pig in a gopher trap if you didn’t do just what old Ezra wrote.”

  “Don’t say that until you have solid evidence, Jake.”

  “How the hell much evidence do you need?” She scowled at him and mounted her blue roan. “Got your rope ready? We got to get them critters done up before the boys drive more in.”

  She reined her horse toward the herd. Ben mounted and followed. Henry and Teddy waved, already mounted and anxious to start. “You want us to cut you some calves now?” Teddy hollered, spooking the herd.

  It took Jake and Ben several minutes to calm the cattle and bunch them up again. “Did you learn something?” Jake asked the boy.

  “Yeah, every thing you do, Ben makes it easier for you, so I guess you mean Homer’n me s’posed to work together.” He wrinkled his brow and looked at the older boy. “Ain’t that right, Homer?”

  Ben refrained from laughing at Jake’s hornswoggled expression and kept his silence. Jake got herself into this, he’d like to see how she explained herself.

  “That’s right,” she finally answered. “Cowhands work together like fingers on a hand.”

  “See, Homer, I got it right!”

  “But you also got to keep quiet,” she continued, “lest you start a stampede. If you gotta make noise, sing a soft song. Otherwise, hold your mouth shut.”

  Teddy hung his head. “Yes, sir.”

  “You two cut us out a calf,” she told the boys, “and don’t forget to look at its mama’s brand.” After they trotted off, she turned to Ben. “Got your irons ready?”

  His iron was ready every time he looked at her.

  * * * * *

  Within two hours’ time, Ben had roped, then jumped off his horse and branded, more than two dozen calves. Crazy Jim castrated them and threw the testicles in a bucket of water. Ben didn’t look forward to dinner. Rocky Mountain oysters had held little appeal for him as a youngster, and even less now.

  Jake rode up to him as he wiped sweat off his forehead. “After the noon meal, you can take over the castrating and Crazy Jim will rope. You’ll be plumb wore out by then.”

  He just nodded. Hell, he’d rather rope all year than castrate one bull calf. He clenched his legs together, then relaxed before anyone noticed. That job was one reason why becoming a lawyer in Boston had sounded so appealing.

  The rest of the two hours that morning he spent roping, branding, and roping another. And another. He forgot how tedious ranch work could be, but then realized he felt satisfied with all the work he’d done in a way he’d never felt as a child.

  The operation worked like a machine--the boys cut the calves out of the herd, Ben roped the head, Jake roped the feet. Then Ben branded it and Crazy Jim castrated it. Ben remounted and Jim took the ropes off the calf. Then they did it all over again. And again.

  “Bar EL cows did their job this year,” Jake commented before they roped another calf. “Not more’n a couple ain’t got calves.”

  “Do you intend to cull them?”

  She nodded. “But not till we get them back to the ranch.”

  “Hey, Jake!” Homer waved his hat. “What do we do with this one? The mama ain’t got no brand.”

  “Bring the cow and the calf over. I’ll brand it Flying K and mark it down.”

  “Why’d you choose that brand?” Ben asked.

  Shrugging, she readied her loop. “The Kampe’s need a new barn.” As she took out after the cow, she yelled, “Don’t worry, Boston, I keep a tally--the Bar EL won’t be cheated.”

  “I never thought that, woman!” Ben tore after the calf and threw the loop over its head.

  “Who’re you calling woman?”

  “You.”

  To his surprise, she didn’t answer back--just tossed a pretty loop around the calf’s back legs and stretched him out for Crazy Jim.

  A few hours later, exhausted but satisfied, he sat on a log and stared at the plate of beans in his hand. He’d had better meals. The noon break came and went too damned fast for Ben considering his afternoon’s task. Castrating.

  Jim spent half the break running his knife blade over a whetstone. He sheathed it and handed it to Ben. “Hook this here on your suspender loop. It’s sharp--careful you don’t cut yourself instead of the calf.”

  Ben’s blood boiled when even Crazy Jim, probably not even twenty years old, treated him like a child. He took the knife and mumbled, “Thanks.”

  Jake came over to him, taking her gloves off. “I’ll show you how to do the first one.”

  “No need. This wa
s my job since I was ten years old. Five roundups.”

  Jake’s eyes grew wide. “Ten?” That’s a mighty dangerous job for a kid.

  Ben didn’t want to go into it much. “I couldn’t rope to suit him, so my father put me to castrating.”

  “Shit, no wonder you run off to Boston.”

  So now she knew. “The past is past. Let’s get started.”

  Within an hour, he’d nearly filled the bucket. Unlike Crazy Jim, Ben had hardly any blood on him.

  Jake rode up to him after he released a calf. “I hate to say this, but you’re pretty damned good.”

  With a quick nod, Ben said, “Bring me another one. Let’s get this done.”

  She nudged her horse, but then reined back. “Ben?”

  He looked up. “Yes?”

  “The Lazy B’s doing this tomorrow. You’re riding out.”

  “With you?”

  Just then, Peter Blacker’s cowhands drove another herd in and Jake turned her attention to him.

  “Move them downstream,” she yelled. “We ain’t done with the first batch.”

  Looking back at Ben, she said, “Let’s get a move on.”

  Watching her rear in the saddle, that’s just what he wanted to do.

  * * * * *

  Ben waited as Jake managed to get the strays settled into their bedrolls. Homer had finally promised he’d never pull Henry’s hair again.

  “Can I ride out with Ben tomorrow?” Henry asked Jake.

  “Naw, you rode today. Teddy and Homer are riding with us.”

  The girl’s lower lip quivered. “But that ain’t fair. That’s two days in a row that they get to be with him and I don’t.”

  Ben walked over and picked her up. “What’s the problem, Henry?”

  “Jake don’t want me to be with you. She wants you all to herself.” One tear trickled down her cheek. “She’s mad ‘cause I’m marrying you and she ain’t.”

  He didn’t quite know what to think about that last remark, so he addressed her assignment concerns. “Yesterday, she told me that everyone takes turns, including her and me. You and your bro--er, Homer and Teddy will work in camp two days and go on the trail one day. This was your day on the trail, so tomorrow and the next day you’ll be working in camp.”

  “And you worked in the camp today, so you’re on the trail tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but I’ll be back in camp day after tomorrow, so we’ll work together on that day.”

  “Oh.” She wiggled to get down. As he tucked her in, she sneered, “I get him all by myself day after tomorrow. Ben said.” She stuck her tongue out and the boys threw pebbles at her.

  “That’ll keep them occupied for a while,” Ben said to Jake as they walked away from the children.

  Jake sighed. “Lordy, I hope they go to sleep quick. It’s been a trial every since we got Henry.”

  “The boys will get used to her. She’s only been with you a few weeks.”

  “It ain’t the boys--it’s her. I never met a more stubborn kid in all my born days--always telling folks what to do, and madder than a polka-dotted snake when they don’t do it.”

  Ben cleared his throat but still chuckled so he coughed. Henry couldn’t have been more like Jake if they’d shared bloodline. “Let’s take a walk--get away from camp for a bit.” He offered his arm.

  He was so shocked when she took his arm, he almost forgot to walk. But he quickly schooled his expression and led her to the creek. They walked several hundred yards upstream, away from the camp and farther away from the cattle.

  He heard the trickle of the stream and, in the background, mournful strains of some cowhand’s harmonica. Both belied the earlier hullabaloo of cows and kids, and lent an air of peacefulness to the cool night air. Seeing a smooth boulder, he asked, “Would you like to sit there?”

  “Yup, we can lean back against that other rock and look for shooting stars.”

  He sat beside her and leaned back, pulling her back with him. “You didn’t strike me as someone who enjoyed the stars.”

  “Shows what you know. The stars make all this worthwhile.”

  He felt her relax against him, sharing her warmth. And his own temperature rose, along with the lower part of him. Determined not to scare her off, he relaxed, too, as best he could. “Do you know the constellations?”

  “Big Dipper. North Star. That’s about it. I don’t think they have to have names to make you twinkle inside.”

  He made her twinkle, too, he knew it. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The cold rock reminded him of his knotted muscles. He considered asking Jake to rub his back--but either she would, putting him in more misery elsewhere, or she wouldn’t, and he’d have to dodge a punch. He chuckled softly.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Hmm? Oh, nothing.” He pushed her forward and massaged her shoulders. Maybe she’d take the hint. “Feel good?”

  A little noise came from her throat that nearly did him in. “I ain’t never had my back rubbed before.”

  He kept rubbing, brushing his hands a little lower on her back. He circled wider, until he touched her ribs and stroked the sides of her breasts. Her sharp intake of air let him know she felt him--and she liked it.

  Leaning forward, he kissed her neck under her ear. She leaned harder into him, giving full range of her breasts. Ah, what beautiful breasts they'd be if he could only see them. They’d be well-rounded with creamy skin, topped with a raspberry nipple ripe for his mouth.

  “What the hell’s poking my back?”

  * * * * *

  She wiggled to get more comfortable and he let out a groan like a cornered possum. “Oh, you hurting, too?”

  “You couldn’t possibly know.”

  Good, she could rub his back like he did hers. Might take her mind off her innards that felt like stove-hot corn mush way down deep. With a little lightning thrown in for good measure. She pressed her legs together to ease the tension down there, but it only got worse.

  She moved away from him, the cold air hitting her where his warmth had touched her before. “Scoot forward and I’ll rub your back. You ain’t used to this kind of work.”

  He did without saying a word--a very strange thing for a Boston lawyer. She wondered if maybe he was sick or something. With the grit he’d shown, she knew he’d never admit it if he was half dead.

  When she touched his broad shoulders, her innards fired up again, but she could hardly go back on her word. She pressed her fingers against the firm muscles. Instead of relaxing, he tensed up. Maybe she was doing this all wrong.

  She worked her fingers down his spine to his waist. Suddenly, he spun around and hugged her so hard he damn near crushed the air out of her. But she liked it. A lot.

  “Jake,” he mumbled, “I have to kiss you now.”

  “Wh--”

  He covered her lips with his. Lordy, how she loved kissing him. She opened her mouth a bit, inviting him in. When his tongue brushed across her teeth, she touched its tip with her own. He shuddered, then rubbed his hand across her back, over her sides, and planted his palms firmly on her breasts.

  She ached for him to do something there, touch her more. He pushed her away and started to unbutton her shirt. She pressed her hands over his, stilling him. “Ben,” she breathed weakly, “what are you gonna do?”

  He kissed her hands away and unbuttoned her shirt all the way down. She let him. Why, she didn’t know, but she wanted him to. He spread the shirt and cool air rushed to her bared breasts. Her nipples puckered so she put her hands over them.

  “No,” he said, brushing her fingers aside. He placed his hand on one breast, then lowered his head to the other and kissed the tip of her nipple. A rope of desire shot from her breast to her woman’s part--that part that she’d had in control before Ben came along.

  The urge to move under him was strong. He licked around the side of her nipple, then took it into his mouth and gently suckled. She wanted more, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair and pressing h
im into her. The squeak she heard was hers.

  At the sound of men’s voices, her heart missed a beat. “Holy shit!” Gathering her sensibilities, she pushed him back and buttoned up as fast as her shaking hands could manage.

  “I gotta go back. There’ll be talk.”

  Groaning, he rolled to his back and sat up. “I’ll come in later.”

  She nodded, then said, “Don’t do that again.”

  But she wanted him to, even though she knew he’d be back in Boston in a month. She whapped the side of her head with her palm.

  She was not some simpering female, she reminded herself. She was the foreman of the Bar EL--the best rider, roper, and shooter in Owyhee County. And she better keep that in mind next time she decided to take a walk with the Boston lawyer.

  * * * * *

  Two weeks passed quickly, and Ben grew to enjoy those precious days when he rode with Jake. He rode with her now, scouring rugged Rattlesnake Butte for cattle. The children rode with Crazy Jim one gully over, and three other cowhands rode up the gully after that.

  But, by some miracle, he’d managed to get Jake alone for the first time since the night by the creek. He admired her, slouched in the saddle like only a person who’d lived there most of her life would. Her ease seemed to reflect the Owyhees--serene and wickedly rugged, sometimes dangerous.

  She had finally relaxed around him--the freeze-out she’d given him after he’d gotten carried away with her had subsided. Sometimes he caught her glancing at him, and he knew she longed for him as much as he yearned for her.

  They both knew they should leave each other alone--that they’d go their separate ways soon. But she kept scheduling him to ride with her every third day and he was all too happy to oblige.

  “Got to tell you, Boston,” she said as she scoured the mountainside with her gaze, “I ain’t never had a cowhand work so hard as you. You’d of made a helluva foreman.”

  Ben nearly fell off his horse, but kept his voice calm. “I thought so, too, when I was Teddy’s age. But my life went in a different direction, and that’s all right. I enjoy reading the law.”

  “I suppose you make a lot more money at it.”