“If you’re going off after those cows today, you’ll need some rest.”
Tanner forked a chunk of biscuit into his mouth. He stared at Maira then Frank. “You’re rounding up your cows?”
She shared a glance with Frank then nodded.
So that’s what Frank had been trying to ask but couldn’t get out.
Frank scooted on his chair. “Told her it’s not safe for her to do it alone.”
Tanner realized Frank was silently asking him to help her. Begging, really, his dark eyes pleading. “I could help with that. It’s dangerous, hot work.” Not fit for a woman, he wanted to say but bit his tongue.
Maira shook her head. “You’ve done enough. I won’t ask it of you.” She glanced at Frank, defiant. Then she shot from her seat and bolted out the door. Frank shrugged then gathered the platter and pot of gravy. “Don’t be feeling badly,” he said, his gaze on him. “She’s a tough one.”
six
Maira calmed herself by saddling up Queen. The familiar procedure eased her worry. When Levi did not appear, she knew Frank already had the boy busy doing something with the breakfast dishes. After Levi’s birth, in that first month when the haze of Jon’s death collided with the joy of a newborn, Frank had taken on everything, and only when pneumonia strangled his breath did he relent to rest. Then the bronc had busted him up, and it had been Maira’s turn to care for Frank. It had cemented their roles to each other, like father to daughter and daughter to father. But they both knew they needed more help. That the situation was growing desperate.
She mounted Queen and rode by the front of the house to squint through the screen door to make sure Levi was safe. A dark shadow rose up in front of the door a second before it rattled back on its hinge, and Mr. Young appeared. He cleared the steps and was within a few feet of her before she gathered her wits enough to say anything.
“I was checking on Levi.”
“He’s fine,” the man said. “If you’re going to look things over, I’ll join you.”
She wanted to tell him no, to give Queen a taste of her heels and leave the man behind, but she couldn’t. Or she wouldn’t; she wasn’t sure which.
In minutes he had his piebald saddled. He nodded at her to lead the way. It felt strange leading out ahead of the man, and she wondered at the foolhardiness of going too far away from the house with a virtual stranger. Still, he had rescued Levi. Didn’t that at least show he held no evil intentions? Her qualms won out and she kept close to the house.
“There’s no need to go too far the first day,” Tanner said, as if he hadn’t heard a word of her protest. “We’ll start rounding up close to the house anyhow.”
He drew abreast of her, and she felt his gaze on her, a silent challenge, but he said nothing else. Whenever she glanced his way, she used the opportunity to watch him, taking note of what she saw. Besides the rifle in the scabbard, he wore his guns, a precaution against running into wild bulls or coyotes. Sourness coated her mouth. She’d not even thought to bring her shotgun.
Tanner held up his free hand to indicate caution and stopped his horse. Her heart pounded, yet she didn’t see anything until he slid the rifle free and held the weapon to his shoulder. The tight pack of deer moved, tails flicked. She blinked and realized what a good eye the man had. Queen tensed, and Maira stroked the horse’s side as the rifle barked. Tanner levered out the spent shell and fired again before she could draw a full breath. The deer were running now, tails flagging their fright.
“Two of ’em.” His voice held a triumphant ring.
A swirl of smoke wafted upward in front of her face before she could see the evidence of his shooting.
He worked the piebald up into an excited little dance and grinned over at her as he slid the rifle into the scabbard. “I think I just earned my keep.”
She matched his smile with one of her own. “I guess so.”
And with that, he gave his horse his head. She took Queen in at a more sedate pace, watching as the man dressed the deer. Steamy entrails hit the ground. Maira smiled. Having come west to marry Jon, she remembered those first years when she’d grown ill watching this process. Now it was a way of life, a means to an end, and venison steaks would be a welcome dish. She ground-hitched Queen and yanked up her sleeves. Tanner turned the carcass in his arms and lifted it bodily.
“Must weigh a good hundred pounds,” he grunted.
Maira took the knife he’d left and found the breastbone of the other deer. Inserting the blade, she slit the skin downward, careful not to puncture the entrails. The smell hit her hard. She pushed on, struggling with the legs, wishing a tree were closer so she could do as Jon had done to make the process easier and hang it from a limb. Her hands, slick with blood, struggled for purchase. Tanner knelt across from her, his mouth a grim line but his eyes glittering with unsuppressed amusement. He leaned forward and held out his hands. She handed over the knife and watched as he, with sure strokes, dispensed with the grim duties. Maira rose, the smell sticking in her throat. Deep breaths cleansed her nose and head of the noxious odor. She bent to swipe her hands along the grass and frowned at the mess on the front of her once-pristine blouse. Not her best, but her clothing was as limited as her money. It brought back the biting frustration she’d felt before leaving the breakfast table. Finding a solution to the money problems rested on her shoulders, yet she felt so weak for the task.
She shoved away the thought. One day at a time. At least she had Levi. When she returned her attention to Tanner, he had almost finished the gruesome task. She hurried back to help him hoist the deer, but he pushed away her hands with a grunt. He lifted the smaller deer with ease and strapped it behind her saddle. Straightening, his shirt bloodied with gore.
Maira couldn’t resist a jibe. “Not quite the work I’d hoped to accomplish.”
Tanner’s lips curled a little bit. “Guess not. Sorry about that. Maybe we should take tomorrow to get that smokehouse built before we go after the cows.”
He moved to her side, and she found the sun blocked by his wide shoulders. If she looked up, his face would be there, close to hers. He cupped his hand to accept her foot. She took the help with the same ease it was offered and settled onto the saddle. Queen would protest the extra weight of the carcass, but it couldn’t be helped. “You’re a good shot; I never even saw them. Frank’s better at seeing game, but he misses more than he hits. Don’t tell him I said that.”
Tanner grinned over at her as he brought the piebald even with Queen. His beard covered most of his face, but his dark eyes held a distinct twinkle. “The secret is safe with me.”
❧
Riding beside the woman made it harder to concentrate on his mental drawings of the smokehouse. The sky, clear blue and shot with wisps of cloud, coupled with the caress of breeze through his beard and the presence of the woman, made Tanner feel. . . He pressed his lips together and forced himself to focus on the design of the smokehouse. Of Frank and his thoughts about a brace to alleviate the twist and help the man ride. Of the cattle that needed to be rounded up.
“Have you been in this area long, Mr. Young?”
An innocent question. He drew in a breath. “For a while.”
When she asked nothing else, he knew his vagueness had shut her down. For the first time in a long time, Tanner wished he could talk. Women liked that sort of thing, but it had been a long time since he’d been this close to one. He stole a glance at her profile, the glossy fall of dark hair. He swallowed hard and scrubbed at his beard, feeling unkempt and messy, yet safe, too. The beard helped hide him. It gave the impression of a wild, untamed man, and he was comfortable with that. A stab of anger inserted itself, and he nudged Cue to pick up the pace and take the lead.
When they came around to the barn, Frank called out from the house, “How goes?”
Tanner raised his hand. Maira went straight to the front porch where Frank stood. She would fill him in on the deer. Tanner led Cue to a tree, where he flung the coil of rope into the air and
over the lower branch. He made quick work of knotting the end of the rope around the deer’s forelegs and cinching the knot tight. Releasing the leather strips he’d used to keep the deer in place, he pulled on the other end of the rope until the deer dangled off the ground a good eight feet.
Maira rode her horse closer. He noted the streaks of blood on the front of her shirt. If not for the smile on her face she might look as if she’d just murdered someone. She turned the full effect of her smile on him, unaware of his dark thoughts.
“Frank’s a little jealous, I think.”
“No need to be.” He worked the other coil of rope over another sturdy branch and motioned her to bring her horse closer.
Maira hid a yawn with her hand.
“Best change before Levi sees you.”
“Frank already got him down for his nap, so I’ve got a few minutes anyhow.”
He debated as he tested the knot whether he should bring up the subject foremost in his mind. Judging by the way she’d manhandled—woman-handled—the deer, this gal had spunk. But she didn’t have strength, and whether she realized it or not, rounding up cattle took time, patience, and more than one person. “You’ll wait for me to help with the roundup then?”
Her heavy sigh was out before she must have realized how telling it had been. “Yes,” came her firm answer.
“Lot of work,” he grunted as he tugged on the rope. The deer rose in increments from behind the saddle with every tug.
“I know.”
“Walt isn’t sending any of his men this year?”
She turned her face toward the sun, exposing a long column of pale flesh that forced him to look away. “I don’t know. He never says, just rides through here and. . .”
Tanner didn’t press. Though Walt’s help had been generous, Tanner wondered about such an offer. A deeper question gnawed. Tying the deer into place, Tanner debated his response.
“Would you like some coffee?”
Her offer surprised and pleased him.
“Frank will have a pot made, I’m sure.” She stared down at the ground then back up. He caught her uncertainty.
“Let me change my shirt and get cleaned up,” he said.
His statement made her blink and frown down at her blouse. “Yes, I guess I’d best do the same.”
seven
Maira struggled to stay awake. Her coffee had long ago gotten cold, but she enjoyed this time of the evening. Jon used to call it “catch-up time,” and she’d found it to be true. With all the work to be done, it was the only part of the day reserved for sitting and thinking, or talking, as they liked to do. Having Tanner Young join them around the table had felt right. Like he belonged. It took great effort for her to remind herself that he did not and that his stay was temporary. She should be relieved. Without his presence everything would return to normal. He built a fire in the fireplace, and the ache of that action echoed through her. Jon had loved the sound of the fire crackling. Frank often built fires, but seeing Tanner haul in the wood and stack it carefully, his shirt stretched across his back, had taken her breath away.
She collected her hair in one hand and closed her eyes as conversation between Frank and Tanner moved to the smokehouse. Having a pantry full of meat would be wonderful, and she could not deny the fact that the burden of another mouth to feed was offset by the man’s skill with a gun. She’d admired the skeletal structure of the smokehouse as Tanner had worked on it throughout the afternoon.
“. . .bed?”
She blinked her eyes at the hesitation in conversation, realizing that all eyes focused on her. Frank’s brow was folded into lines of amusement. “I’m headed that way,” she said before giving a tired smirk. “You just want to talk behind my back.”
Frank chuckled. “Then just sit there and turn yourself around.”
Maira collected her cup and rose, nodding to them both. She doubted she could sleep knowing they were out here. From her room she would hear their voices, if not their words. Jon and Frank used to use the late evening to talk about the herds and Jon’s hopes for expanding. For weeks they’d talked about the benefits of buying a sheep wagon and the price of shearing the flock themselves versus paying to have it done. Everything came down to dollars and cents, a subject that exhausted Maira, and even more so now when there were more cents than dollars.
She opened the front screen door, aware of Mr. Young’s lingering look on her. Their gazes met and held, until she shut the door and blocked the sight of eyes the color of chocolate drops. Lifting the only window in the room, a breeze shot through and held her in its clutches, making her shiver. Chocolate drops. Her breath caught at the chill. Sliding the window down, she angled the stick to hold it open a crack and shrugged from her clean blouse. The bloodstained one was draped across a chair. What had she been thinking? Wrangling a deer, trying to prove herself. Why? She’d ruined a good blouse and she only had two others.
Peeling back the covers, she sat on the bed’s edge and braided her hair, then slipped under the comforter and curled close to Levi. His warm little body brought comfort even as it stirred the ache of her loss. Jon’s presence seemed strongest when night descended. Through the door, she could hear Tanner’s voice, deep, resonating. Despite herself, she felt safer for his proximity. Frank’s presence was security, but his limp and age made him as vulnerable as her. She turned her face into her pillow, dreading tomorrow. The cows. With Tanner getting so much work done on the smokehouse, they’d decided over supper to ride out for half a day, starting early in the morning, and return before dark so he could finish the building. She grimaced. She didn’t even know how to throw a rope. Jon had meant to show her how, but her pregnancy had put those plans on hold. Permanently. All she would do tomorrow was ride around on Queen and scream at the cows to move, not knowing a fig about getting them out of tight areas or rousing them from scratchy shrubs. Frank must have laughed on the inside when she declared her intentions, but the man had remained stoic, even concerned. Could be he feared for her sanity.
Maira knew then that she would not sleep. Not with the men talking and her mind whirling and the unpleasant task ahead of her. Easing from the bed, she reversed her earlier process, pulling on the clean blouse and regular skirt. She finger-combed strands from her face and left her hair in the braid. With her hand on the door latch, she took one last glance back at Levi. A sliver of moonlight skimmed his cheek. Maira smiled, heart twisting in gratitude for the gift God had given her and the mercy of Levi’s return.
When she opened the bedroom door, she was surprised to see Frank coming in the front door and Tanner by the fire, his eyes on her. Chocolate drops. She smiled. “I can’t sleep,” she declared.
❧
Her smile tripped Tanner’s heartbeat. He groped for his coffee and sucked down the rest of it like a bear sucking honey. Though stone cold, the brew was bitter and the acid of it burned his throat. Frank made the stuff so strong it would melt iron, or at least shake the vision of Maira from his head. The effect wore off as soon as he set the cup aside. She was there, taking her seat at the head of the table, and he couldn’t deny himself the chance to stare. At the silky shine of her braid, the slight wrinkle pattern on her cheek, the great green of eyes that were, in turn, staring back at him with a mix of puzzlement and amusement.
Frank brought the pot to the table and filled Maira’s cup, and still they were locked in a silent stare-down. His hand snaked out for his mug, and he cleared his throat. He was dimly aware of Frank moving behind him. Maira’s presence held him spellbound. He squeezed his coffee mug, lifting it, and he heard Frank yelp and felt heat sear his hand. He jerked his hand and shook it as white-hot fire continued to burn. A chair scraped, and Frank slammed the pot onto the table. Fierce red etched a path along the side and back of Tanner’s hand. Maira was beside him in an instant, guiding his hand to the bucket of water, where the coolness soothed the fire. He released his breath. Frank mopped up the mess on the table.
“Woolgathering?”
“If you knew he wasn’t paying attention, why didn’t you say something?”
“Didn’t expect him to jerk it up so quick.”
Maira’s brows lowered at the old man. Frank shrugged, nonplussed.
“You leave your hand in there for a while.” She leaned forward to gaze into the bucket, the braid of her hair slipping over her shoulder, snaking down to the tabletop.
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
She touched the arm that dangled over the bucket. “I’m sure you will, but the water will help. I just wish I had some ice.”
Frank slumped into his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. “He’s a big boy, Maira. Any cowpuncher worth his salt is used to pain. Guess it’s a woman’s right to fuss a little, though.” Frank’s smile squinted his eyes. “Men tend to like it, too.”
Tanner kept his eyes on the table and his mouth shut. It wasn’t the fussing that bothered him; it was getting used to the fussing that was the problem. And with Maira’s hand on his arm, he thought he could do just that.
“I’ll be fine,” he repeated. “Why don’t you finish your coffee before it gets cold?”
Her hand left his arm and she took up her spot at the head of the table.
“Probably wasn’t so hot anyhow,” Frank piped up. “It’d been sitting for almost two hours.”
Tanner begged to differ on the temperature but didn’t comment. He pulled his hand from the bucket and dabbed the tender spot dry with the towel Frank had used. It began to sting again, but he tuned out the discomfort. “We need to talk about the cattle.”
Frank’s gaze flicked to him, to Maira, then back to him.
What he was most grateful to see was the open curiosity on Maira’s face. “I know you want to have a part, but it’s no place for a woman without experience. I think I have a plan, if Frank’s willing to hear it.”
“Got my ear, Young.”
“You said you can’t ride, and I don’t doubt it must be uncomfortable, but what if I built a custom brace for your leg? You could get on your horse by standing on something.”
Valley of the Heart Page 4