He gathered Jiggs’s reins and stepped into the saddle, holding out a hand to Mariah.
She was still disoriented, bemused by the suddenness of the last few minutes. Nevertheless, she took his hand and let him pull her up behind him. Without a word, Cade kneed Jiggs, lifting him into a canter.
Seated behind Cade, her arms wrapped around his waist, Mariah had too much time to think about that kiss on their way back to the camp. Stunned by the passion that had roared out of control between them, she couldn’t make her mind function beyond the fact that no one had ever kissed her like that before.
Dangerous. He was dangerous to her peace of mind.
Too much heat. Her foolish body ached to have his mouth on hers again. She felt as if her nerve ends were singed, making her so sensitized that just touching him made her yearn to be wrapped against him.
After discussing the dwindling number of cows being found with the others over supper, Cade decided to start the drive back to the ranch the following morning. A part of Mariah eagerly looked forward to being home in her own cottage, soaking in the bathtub and sleeping in her own bed, but another part wished their time on the range wasn’t over and she knew she’d always treasure the memory of the trip with Cade.
She and Pete helped herd the cattle the following morning as they moved them out of the corral and pointed them down the trail. The sun shone down, the dust rose from beneath the hooves of several hundred cattle and Mariah gladly rode Zelda on the far side of the herd, turning back any that tried to veer away from the main group.
Cade hailed her as the crew neared the flat where they’d parked the trucks.
“Mariah, I want you and Pete to ride ahead and drive my truck and his back to the ranch. You can trailer the horses with you. I’ll send J.T. and the Turners to pick up the rest of the trucks after we get the herd home.”
“All right.”
She rode away with Pete, glancing to see Cade watching as they left the herd behind. They reached the flat and dismounted, loading their horses into the trailers. Pete drove out first, leaving Mariah to follow in Cade’s big truck.
The seat was adjusted for Cade’s long legs and Mariah had to move it forward before she could reach the pedals. The truck was much newer than her little car and the dashboard looked like a cockpit, with gauges she didn’t recognize. She’d ridden in the pickup as a passenger but that was very different from driving it.
She’d been apprehensive but once the big truck rolled forward, she stopped worrying. She lowered the windows and turned on the CD player. Instantly, the air was filled with bluegrass music. Surprised, Mariah smiled with delight. The song was one she recognized from her own CD of a Jerusalem Ridge appearance by Ralph Stanley and the Clinch Mountain Boys.
If she hadn’t needed to pay close attention to the rough track she and Pete drove along, she would have loved to browse through the CD holder lying on the passenger seat.
Looking through a person’s choice in music was as revealing as thumbing through their bookshelf, she thought with a smile.
The rest of the crew followed more slowly, trailing the herd of cattle.
Pete and Mariah arrived home well in advance of the riders herding the cattle. After they unloaded the horses and turned them out into the small corral, she walked to the cottage.
She dropped her duffel bag in the utility room next to the washing machine and walked straight to the bathroom where she stripped off every stitch of clothes and tossed them in the hamper. Then she turned on the water, waiting until it was warm before she stepped into the shower.
Access to an abundance of hot water was a luxury she’d come to appreciate over the last week, she thought, tipping her head back to let the water pour over her face and hair. She shampooed twice, the suds running in rivulets down her bare body, before she was satisfied. Then she repeated the process with floral bath gel before rinsing and stepping out onto the fluffy rug.
Drying off, she wrapped a towel around her hair and another around her body then padded back into her bedroom. The clothes hanging in her closet smelled like clean soap, without a trace of smoke from a campfire.
She held a sweater to her nose, breathing in the lovely scent.
I’m such a girl, she thought with a grin as she tossed the black sweater and a pair of jeans on the bed. And as she took a black lace bra and matching thong from the drawer to drop them atop the clothes, she couldn’t help but think of Cade, her body heating as she remembered that kiss. Even now, she shied away from contemplating the searing passion that had engulfed them.
She dried her hair and applied makeup before dressing, stopping to toss a load of clothes in the washer before leaving the cabin. She walked back down the lane to the bunkhouse where Pete was already cutting up chicken to fry for dinner later.
“If you ever decide to retire from cowboying, Pete,” she told him as she washed her hands, “you have a career ahead of you as a cook.”
He flashed her a grin before returning his attention to the meat cleaver and the chopping block. “A good cowboy is automatically a good cook. Comes with the job.”
Mariah laughed and took several bags of fresh vegetables from the fridge. They worked companionably side by side as they completed the prep work for dinner.
“What time do you think the herd will get here?” Mariah asked after they’d cleaned the kitchen and walked outside onto the porch. She searched the dirt trail that wound out of sight across the pasture but all was quiet.
“Hard to tell.” Pete shrugged. “They’ll get here when they get here.” And with that, he stepped off the porch and headed for the machine shop, lifting a hand in goodbye as he went.
Mariah sighed and set off down the lane back to her cabin. She’d been happy when Cade assigned her to drive one of the trucks back. But now she almost wished she were riding drag behind the herd, participating in the final piece of the trip and spending more time with Cade.
It was late afternoon before the first cattle plodded into the home pasture, the rest of the herd soon spilling behind the leaders. Mariah was brushing Zelda in the horse corral when she heard the sound of several hundred hooves and the whistles and shouts of riders.
Pete emerged from the machine shop and hobbled across the ranch yard with surprising speed, climbing the corral fence for safety.
Mariah left Zelda and joined Pete for a better view, perching on the top rail to watch the stream of cattle pour through the open gate and into the paddock just past the barn. She narrowed her eyes and covered her nose with her forearm as dust rose, churned up beneath all the cattle’s feet. The noise was deafening, calves bawling when some were separated from their mamas as the herd moved.
Cade, with Ash and Grady Turner, drove the young bulls into a separate enclosure and locked them in. They rode up to the corral where Pete perched with Mariah and scanned the herd of cows and calves inside the fence just beyond.
“What’s the final head count, Cade?” Pete asked.
“Two hundred and fifty cows,” Cade replied. “Nearly all of them have calves but I haven’t counted how many are heifers or bull calves. And we rounded up a hundred and six young bulls that need to be cut.”
“You plan to sell all hundred and six, or keep some for beef?” Pete asked.
Cade shrugged. “We could keep a steer or two to butcher, depending on how much room there is in the freezer.”
“We could use at least one,” Pete told him. “J.T. shot a deer last fall so there’s venison but there’s not much beef left.”
Mariah kept her eyes firmly focused on the herd of cattle, purposely not looking at Cade. Just listening to his deep voice as he talked with Pete sent shivers rippling over her skin. She wondered if she was going to react to him like this from now on or if it would wear off in time.
The man could kiss beyond her wildest expectations. She’d been left shaken, stunned and unwilling to consider the meaning of the blaze of passion that had raged out of control between them.
“We’ll s
tart tomorrow. Jed and his brothers said they’d help brand and cut the bull calves.”
Mariah realized the conversation between Cade, Pete and Jed had moved on to a discussion of the next stage with the cattle.
“If you want more help, there are a few local cowboys who’d be happy for the work,” Pete put in.
“Hiring more hands would cut the time it takes to finish,” Cade said. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can sell the steers. Might be worth it.”
Dallas and Grady rode up, with J.T. following and Mariah used the interruption to lean over and catch Pete’s attention. “I’m going to start dinner at the bunkhouse,” she told him. “Food should be ready in a half hour or so.”
He nodded. “I’ll tell the boys.”
Mariah nodded and swung down from the corral fence, suppressing a smile at Pete’s reference to Cade and the Turners as “boys.” Although, she reflected as she walked quickly across the ranch yard and climbed the steps to the bunkhouse, Pete was at least seventy years old so it probably made sense that he thought of the men as boys.
She was carrying loaded bowls to the table when boots sounded on the porch outside. The quiet bunkhouse seemed to shrink in size as the seven men entered. They brought the scent of sage, campfire smoke and crisp Montana air with them, filling the room with deep male voices and laughter as they took turns washing off trail dust.
Mariah and Pete transferred huge platters and bowls of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed carrots and broccoli from the kitchen area to the long table. Dallas and Grady were first to join the two and with faces and hands scrubbed clean, hair damp, they helped Mariah carry the last platters to the table.
The noise from voices, boots and chairs scraping on wood floors as everyone took seats gave way to silence as everyone ate. It wasn’t until the hungry crew had filled their plates with second helpings that conversation grew from the occasional request to pass a bowl.
“I was thinking, Cade,” Ash said. “Why don’t we call the neighbors and ask if they want to come over to help brand? The Triple C hasn’t had an old-fashioned roundup in years. I bet the Johnsons would get a kick out of being here and lending a hand. Same thing with the Petersens,” he added, naming two families whose ranches shared fence lines with the Coulters.
“Ty and Mason will be here,” Grady put in, naming his two remaining brothers. “Somebody had to stay home and take care of business but they sure weren’t happy when they had to miss the roundup.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Jed said drily. “They growled and stomped around for two days when they lost the toss and had to stay home. I’m sure they’re planning to be here for branding. They’d probably be here tonight if they knew we were back.”
“I’d hate to disappoint a Turner,” Cade drawled. “And we can use the extra hands.” He leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I remember the Petersen and Johnson families but not well. If you think they’d be willing to help, Ash, I’d be glad to have them.”
“You’d better let Ben, Wayne and Asa know you’re having a get-together,” Pete put in. “Those three wouldn’t want to miss it.” He ran his hand over his white hair, his faded eyes twinkling. “Like me, they’re old and stove-up, not good for much work, but we can hold down the corral fence and supervise.”
“I’m sure you can, Pete,” Cade said. “But I think you’re wrong about being too old. You and Mariah ran in a fair share of the strays in that herd.”
“True.” Pete nodded with pride and looked across the table at Mariah. “What do you say, Mariah—want to sit on the fence with us four old cowboys and make sure the rest of these guys do the job right?”
Seated between J.T. and Grady Turner, Mariah glanced at Cade, noting the instant narrowing of his eyes as he focused on her with an intensity that made her shiver.
“No thanks, Pete,” she said calmly, her gaze moving from Cade to Pete, then back to meet Cade’s green stare. “I hate the smell of singed cowhide so if the boss doesn’t mind, I’ll skip the branding and spend my day doing women’s work in the kitchen.” She couldn’t help a small smile when Cade winced at her words.
“You’ve earned the right to help with the branding if you want to, Mariah,” he said, his deep voice neutral. “You did a great job last week.”
Mariah shook her head, elation that he’d acknowledged her hard work flooding her. “Thanks, Cade, but I’ll hang out in the kitchen. Actually,” she said slowly as an idea occurred to her. “Maybe I’ll talk to the neighbors, too, and see if the women want to come help. We could have an old-fashioned get-together, make it a party.”
“Fine with me.” Cade’s agreement was quickly echoed by the rest of the men.
They lingered over coffee, discussing the next day’s schedule, before finally pushing back their chairs. J.T. and Pete insisted on cleaning the kitchen, refusing to let her join them, and Mariah collected her jacket, calling good-night to the group.
“I’ll walk you down to the cabin, Mariah.” Dallas helped her slip into her coat before taking his own jacket from a peg and shrugging into it.
“I need to talk to her.” Cade’s deep voice sounded behind her. “I’ll walk her home.”
Mariah glanced over her shoulder, her gaze meeting Cade’s but she couldn’t read his eyes.
She turned back to collect her hat and scarf from the peg where her coat had hung moments before. “Thanks for offering, Dallas.”
He winked at her and grinned. “Maybe next time.” He settled his Stetson over his brow and stepped out onto the porch.
Cade grabbed his own hat and coat and he and Mariah followed the general exodus from the bunkhouse. The Turners called good-night as they piled into the big cab of Jed’s truck. The engine turned over with a throaty roar and as Mariah walked past the barn with Cade, the taillights glowed red as the truck drove away in the opposite direction toward the highway.
“They’re good friends,” Mariah said into the silence.
“Yeah, they are.” Cade’s voice rumbled with quiet agreement. “I’ve known them most of my life. Jed and I went to school together from kindergarten through high school.”
“I’ve heard a lot of stories about them from people at the café,” she said. “If even half of the stories are true, they’ve lived a…” She searched for the most diplomatic word. “Colorful life.”
Cade’s deep chuckle drifted on the quiet night air. “I’d say that’s about right. You could have used a lot of words—like wild or crazy or hell-raisers, but they’re good people.”
“Someone at the café said their parents died when Jed was only fifteen. Is that true?”
Cade nodded. “Yeah, it’s true. Jed’s dad was a pilot—had a little Cessna, he loved to fly. Jed’s mom went up with him when he was checking cattle one day and a storm blew in. No one really knows what happened but most folks believe lightning struck the plane. They crashed into Old Man Butte, about twenty miles south of town.”
“That must have been terribly hard on the boys.” Mariah couldn’t imagine how the six young orphans had survived.
“It wasn’t easy. Ned Anderson handled legal things but Jed took over running the ranch and hired a series of housekeepers to help with his younger brothers and keep the house together.”
They reached the cabin and climbed the steps. Mariah paused, hand on the doorknob.
“You didn’t tell me what you needed to talk to me about,” she said, searching his face.
He stared down at her, the silence growing. “I wanted to know if you’re all right,” he said finally. He moved closer, brushing his fingertips over her cheek.
“If I’m all right?” Confused, Mariah gazed up at him. His touch was warm, gentle. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I grabbed you too hard when I pulled you off your mare yesterday. You said you’d have bruises. Do your ribs still hurt?”
“Oh, that,” Mariah said with relief. “I’m fine.”
>
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t think about whether I was holding you too tight.”
“Please, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ve had worse bruises from carrying heavy trays at the café.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and frowned. “You get bruised at work?”
“Not often,” she hastened to assure him. “It’s only happened a couple of times when I wasn’t paying attention and walked into the doorjamb between the dining room and the kitchen with a loaded tray.”
“Your boss ought to pad the damn doorjamb—or better yet, carry the heavy trays himself.”
Mariah felt her eyes widen and she smiled softly, secretly pleased by his obvious concern on her behalf. “I don’t mind, it’s all part of the job. And if I’d been paying closer attention to what I was doing, I wouldn’t have bumped into the doorjamb.”
He looked unconvinced. “Speaking of the café, when do you have to go back to work?”
“Not for several days. Sally told me to take as much time as I needed so I’ll go back when the branding is over.”
“All right. Let me know if you need supplies. The number of men on the crew seems to be growing by the hour. Are you sure you’re okay with feeding everybody?”
“Yes, absolutely. I’ll call in friends to help—we’ll have fun doing it.”
“All right.” He hesitated, staring down at her.
For one heart-stopping, aching moment, Mariah was certain he was going to kiss her.
But then he touched the brim of his hat, murmured good-night and strode off down the lane toward the house.
Disappointed, she turned and went inside, closing the door with more than her usual firmness.
She was annoyed with herself for regretting their good-night hadn’t included another of those bone-melting kisses.
Chapter Nine
“I’m glad you called and asked us to help, Mariah,” Sally McKinstry beamed. “I haven’t been to a neighborhood roundup like this in…well, simply ages.”
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