Dale finally started to run, but it was too late. Pinky ran right over the top of him, gashing his right thigh on one of his horns. Blood spurted through Dale’s pant leg. Dale took one look and passed out. Janie kept screaming, Suzanne wondered if she wasn’t going to faint, and J.D. came pounding into the picture on that horse. And all the while, Freeway kept barking and throwing a fit. She had never seen anything even close to what she was looking at now, and she began to shake so hard it was a wonder she was able to stay on her feet.
Pinky turned around to come at Dale again. Snorting, drooling and pawing the ground, the enormous animal prepared itself for another charge.
“Dale, Dale, get up!” Janie screamed.
Suzanne took her hand. “He’s unconscious, Janie. He can’t get up.”
Janie was frantic. “He’s going to be killed!” She spotted J.D. riding hell-for-leather. “Who’s that?”
“J. D. Cade. He and Dale were working together today. That dog out there belongs to him.”
J.D. rode right up to Pinky, screeched his horse to a halt and kicked the bull right between the eyes with the heel of his boot. For a second Pinky looked dazed, but then he came back to roaring, enraged life and started after J.D. and the horse.
“I’m going to draw him away from here,” J.D. yelled to the women. “Can the two of you pull Dale into the building?”
“Yes, yes!” Janie shrieked. “Go! Get out of here! He’s almost on you!”
The horse took a sudden leap forward and Pinky was right behind him, with Freeway right behind him. The foursome—J.D., the horse he was riding, the enraged bull and Freeway— raced through the compound and into the open fields.
Suzanne and Janie ran outside. They didn’t take the time to try to bring Dale to or to examine his wound, they each grabbed a boot and began dragging him along the muddy ground to the bunkhouse. Panting and gasping, they finally got him inside and the door closed.
Janie was in tears as she knelt beside her brother. “Dale, oh, Dale, please be all right.”
Suzanne went to the kitchen for a pair of scissors and returned to first yank off Dale’s right boot and then to slit his pant leg from its hem to the wound.
Blood pumped from the terrible gash in a steady, frightening rhythm. “I think it’s an artery,” she said, trying with all her might to speak normally for Janie’s sake. “Call for an ambulance, Janie.” Both women ran from the dining room, Janie to the phone, Suzanne to get something with which to make a tourniquet.
In the kitchen she grabbed a dish towel and ripped it in half. Rushing back to Dale, she flipped the cloth around and around until she had a strong length of fabric, which she looped around Dale’s leg just above the wound. She tied it securely, though not too tightly, and almost at once the bleeding slowed.
Greatly relieved, she returned to the kitchen and made an ice pack with the other half of the towel. She was applying it to Dale’s forehead when J. D. walked in.
“How’s he doing?” J.D. asked.
Dale began moaning. “He’s just coming to,” Suzanne replied. “I put a tourniquet on his leg, and it seems to be working. I think that monster severed an artery. J.D., how did he get loose? Janie said Pinky was confined in a steel corral.”
“I don’t know how he got loose,” J.D. said. “He’s still running wild, but he’s a good mile from the compound, so—”
Janie rushed in, interrupting J.D. “The ambulance is on its way!” She knelt on the other side of her brother and took his hand. “Dale, can you hear me?”
Dale’s eyes fluttered open. “I—I’m okay.” He tried to get up.
“No, you are not,” Suzanne said, firmly pushing him back to the floor. “We’ve called an ambulance, and it’s on its way. Please lie still.”
Janie looked up at J.D. with tears in her eyes. “You saved his life,” she whispered emotionally. “I’m Janie, Dale’s sister. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“I don’t need any thanks,” J.D. said in that gruff, impersonal way of his.
Janie blinked at him, then wiped the tears from her face. Suzanne was watching, and she witnessed the precise moment when Janie Carson saw J. D. Cade as a man. Even while holding her brother’s hand and being genuinely upset over his accident, Janie suddenly became very feminine.
It flashed through Suzanne’s mind that J.D. was not a man for a sweet girl like Janie to get a crush on. He was a loner, and a lot older than Janie. True, he was attractive, tall and lean, and maybe Janie was drawn to the strong, silent type. Regardless, Suzanne felt that J. D. Cade and Janie Carson were opposites, and that any relationship between them would end badly.
But there was hero worship in Janie’s blue eyes, and Suzanne heaved an inner sigh.
“J.D.,” she said, all but praying that he wasn’t being taken in by teary blue eyes and a pretty face. “You were saying that you left Pinky about a mile from the compound?”
“Yes. When Rand and the crew get back, we’ll drive him back into his pen.” She was holding the makeshift ice pack to Dale’s forehead, and he was restless, moving his head, making it difficult.
“Please, Dale,” she said. “Try to lie still.”
It was as though he hadn’t heard her. He seemed focused on saying something to his sister.
“I…didn’t know he’d…come after me,” he mumbled thickly.
“Of course you didn’t,” Janie said soothingly.
“A steel pen,” Suzanne said musingly. “How on earth did Pinky get out of a steel pen?”
“Hard to say without inspecting it,” J.D. said. “You know, I think I’m going to finish my work in the shed, then ride out and take a look at it. It might need some repairs.” He started for the door. “Are you going to be okay here alone with Dale?” he asked Suzanne.
She nodded. “I think I’m doing all that can be done, J.D. Go on with your work.”
“All right, if you’re sure.”
She tried to smile. “I’m sure.”
He stood there thinking, then made his decision. “Don’t bother making lunch for me, Suzanne. I won’t be in.”
“Whatever you say, J.D.,” she murmured.
Janie let go of her brother’s hand and jumped to her feet to corner J.D. at the door. She stuck out her hand. “Please, you must let me thank you, at least with a handshake.”
“If you want,” J.D. said, and took her hand.
Oh, Janie, don’t be so obvious, Suzanne thought. Not that a thank-you and a handshake were out of line, but it was Janie’s giddy expression and the flirtatious lilt in her voice that J.D. would have to be brain dead to miss.
She didn’t have to worry. She could see J.D. was fully aware of Janie Carson’s adulation, and from the light in his eyes she guessed it amused him. But he was nothing more than nice to Miss Carson and clearly unmoved by her charms. He shook her hand for a moment and dropped it.
“See you later,” he said to Suzanne. Out the door he went.
Janie returned to kneel beside Dale and Suzanne. “J.D.’s wonderful, isn’t he?”
“He was very courageous and quick-thinking today, if that’s what you mean.”
“Oh, yes, that’s exactly what I mean. But he’s also very handsome, don’t you think?”
“J.D.’s good-looking, yes.” Dale was attempting to get up again. “Janie, help me hold him down. If he moves around too much, he’s going to lose more blood.”
“Be still, Dale,” Janie said sharply.
To Suzanne’s surprise, Dale quietened. “He listens to you.”
“We’re very close,” Janie said with unmistakable pride. “We’re only a year apart in age, you know. Dale’s twenty-three.”
Suzanne thought of herself and Mack, and what she wouldn’t give to be as close to her own brother as Janie was to Dale.
“That gash in his leg looks terrible,” Janie whispered.
“It needs stitches,” Suzanne said calmly, wondering if that ambulance would ever arrive. She applied pressure to the woun
d with the ice pack, which slowed the bleeding even more. Privately she believed that Dale was going to need surgery to close that artery. External stitching was not going to be the only medical procedure he was going to have to undergo.
“He’s going to be all right, though, don’t you think?” Janie asked anxiously.
“He’ll be fine, Janie. Probably laid up for a while, but he’s young and healthy,” Suzanne said reassuringly. Janie seemed to relax.
“Tell me about J.D.,” she said.
“I don’t know anything to tell.”
“You must know something. Was he working here when you got here?”
“I…couldn’t say for certain. Probably.”
“He’s not married, is he?”
The payroll records came to Suzanne’s mind. “I just remembered something. He was working here when I arrived, and he’s not married.”
Janie’s face lit up. “I knew it!”
It was funny how much older Suzanne felt than Janie when they were exactly the same age. It made her feel even older to think about it. Janie’s life was no bed of roses, either, and yet she had maintained a much more youthful outlook than Suzanne had. It made Suzanne wonder if she didn’t take things too seriously.
In the next instant she sighed. How could she not take an empty wallet, no security whatsoever, no permanent job and a troublesome brother like Mack seriously?
The distant wail of a siren broke her train of thought. “It must be the ambulance,” she said to Janie. Thank God! Her hands were aching from holding the ice pack, there was blood and mud smeared all over the floor and on herself, and she was truly concerned about Dale’s loss of blood. It would be a tremendous relief to turn him over to people with medical training. She had done the best she knew how, but was it enough?
The ambulance arrived and Janie ran outside to direct them through the right door of the building. A young man and woman came in and took over. Suzanne weakly sank onto a chair to watch. Their competence and efficiency was gratifying.
“Who applied this tourniquet?” the young woman asked.
“I did,” Suzanne said.
“Good job. You probably saved his life.”
Janie came over, took Suzanne’s hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Suzanne, thank you. I wouldn’t have known what to do. Dale and I both owe you and J.D. everything. I’ll never forget what you did today, never.”
Suzanne continued to sit there even after everyone had gone. She had never been so shaken in her life, and she’d gotten through it on instinct alone. Maybe she functioned best in a crisis, some people did.
If only she could deal with her own problems as well as she had with Dale’s.
Heavyhearted, she finally forced herself off the chair. She would clean the floor, then herself.
She was glad that she didn’t have to make lunch for anyone today. She honestly didn’t have the strength.
Mack was carrying an armload of mail when he walked in that afternoon.
“Oh, the mail!” Suzanne exclaimed. “I forgot all about it.” She looked closely at her brother as he dropped his load on the kitchen counter. “How was it?” She didn’t have to say the word school, Mack knew what she meant.
“It was okay,” he said nonchalantly.
Suzanne wasn’t sure she should believe her own ears. “You didn’t hate it?” she asked cautiously.
“It’s different. The kids are real friendly. And guess what? The coach asked me if I wanted to play on any of the teams. Football season is over, but they’re still playing basketball and getting started on baseball and track.”
“You haven’t…I mean, are you interested?” Mack had always poked fun at the jocks in his school in Baltimore.
“Might be,” he said. “It’s different here, sis. Anyone can be on a team. At home you had to be a top athlete to get into sports. Coach said anyone can play any game he wants in this high school.”
“Yes, that is different,” Suzanne said slowly. She had never, not once, heard Mack say anything positive about school. This conversation was suspiciously close to positive and she was having trouble digesting that fact.
“There’s only one hitch. Good grades.” Mack made a face.
Suzanne rushed to encourage him. “You’re smart, Mack. You’ve always had the ability to pull good grades.”
“Yeah, but who cared?”
“I did. Don’t I count?”
She was shocked when Mack laughed. When had she last heard a real laugh from him, one that wasn’t heavily tinged with sarcasm?
“Guess you do count,” he said. “I’m gonna change clothes now and go find Rand.”
“I don’t think you’ll find him, Mack. He and the other men—”
“I spotted ’em way off, heading in when I got here,” Mack said, bounding away.
Suzanne heard him taking the stairs two and three at a time. His boyish enthusiasm brought tears to her eyes. This was the brother she loved, and if Montana, this ranch or that wise and wonderful coach at the high school had brought about the change in him, God bless them all.
The pile of mail caught her eye, and she haphazardly stacked it in her arms and carried it to the office, where she dumped it on Rand’s desk. He had asked her to pick up the mail, not to open it, and even if he had requested she open and sort it, she didn’t have time to do it now. With the men on their way in, probably ravenously hungry after such a meager lunch, she had to see to their dinner.
Returning to the kitchen, she checked the twelve-pound beef roast in the oven, then set to work peeling a small mountain of potatoes. It was a mindless task and her thoughts rambled. Mack was happier today than he’d been since their parents’ deaths. But what about her? He had every right to happiness, but didn’t she, as well?
Her breath suddenly caught in her throat, and she stopped with a potato in one hand and the peeler in the other. Was it going to come down to Mack’s happiness or hers? Oh, God, she was frightened, she thought with a barrage of fearful emotions. Falling in love was scary enough when the man you loved held the same strong feelings for you. When he didn’t…?
In a hopeless gesture she let her head drop forward, almost putting her chin on her chest. What was she going to do? Dear Lord, what was she going to do?
Mack had been mistaken. He’d spotted some of the crew on horseback, all right, but they hadn’t been heading for the compound, they’d been looking for Pinky. Once J.D. had gotten rid of that heap of ruined wire, he’d ridden out to Pinky’s pen and saw the gate swinging on its hinges. After inspecting the heavy-duty latch and deciding that someone had deliberately set the fierce, perpetually angry bull loose, he’d gone to find Rand. He had caught up with the crew near Goose Creek.
Rand had seen him and Freeway coming and told the men to keep following the creek; he and J.D. would catch up with them.
“What’s wrong?” Rand called as J.D. got closer. J.D. rode up to Rand and Jack and reined in his horse. “Pinky’s loose. He gored Dale before I could draw his attention. I let him chase me for about a mile, then outmaneuvered him and rode back to the compound to check on Dale. Suzanne and Dale’s sister had the situation under control.”
“Is he badly hurt?”
“He’s got a rip in his thigh, but I’ve seen worse. He’ll be all right. The thing is, Rand, I rode out to check Pinky’s pen, and there’s nothing wrong with the gate latch. Someone let him out.”
Rand’s lips tightened. “The same someone who destroyed that barbed wire last night.”
J.D. nodded, his expression grim. “I’m sure of it.”
“And Dale could have been killed. My God, Suzanne might have been killed! This is going too far, way too far. No one’s been injured before, this guy is getting violent. I swear, J.D., when I find out who’s behind these rotten stunts, I’m going to tear him limb from limb. He’s going to think an atom bomb hit him.”
“And if you want some help, you’ve got mine. Hell, Rand, either one of those women could have run into that bull.”
Just the thought of Suzanne or Janie Carson facing a charging bull made Rand feel queasy. “Where’d you leave him?”
“Near the middle pond.”
“Okay, let’s get the men and go round him up.” Turning Jack’s head, Rand began riding.
J.D. rode beside him. Freeway trailed behind. “I don’t usually have trouble with animals, but Pinky’s one for the books,” he said. “If this was my ranch, I’d get rid of him.”
“If I owned this place, so would I,” Rand said grimly. “Believe me, J.D., so would I.”
Pinky was nowhere near the middle pond when the crew got there. Rand’s anger was going deeper by the minute. “Spread out,” he told the men. “We’ve got to find him before dark. And be careful. He’ll charge a horse as fast as he would a man on foot.”
“And he is fast,” J.D. put in. “Moves like greased lightning.”
“How’d he get loose?” one of the newer men asked, sounding nervous.
“We don’t know,” Rand said. He studied the faces of the men looking at him. At least one of them knew he was lying, he thought, but which one? Then he realized that even the older hands looked uneasy over the possibility of tangling with Pinky. Any second now someone was apt to start talking about a ghost having unlatched the gate of the bull’s pen. Someone would do it for sure when they saw that the latch was undamaged, or figured out that Pinky hadn’t simply butted his way through the steel fencing.
“Come on, let’s go,” Rand said brusquely. He would deal with nonsensical speculation—it was bound to happen—about ghosts and little green men after they got Pinky penned up again.
Mack hung on the corral fence and wondered why in heck Rand and the other men hadn’t arrived yet. He kept eyeing a handsome black gelding in the corral that he’d heard the men call Joe. He thought it was a dumb name for a horse, and if Joe belonged to him, he’d call him Ebony, or Midnight. Yeah, Midnight was a cool name.
“Come on, Midnight, come over here and let me pet your nose,” he crooned.
The horse trotted over to the fence, surprising Mack. “Well, ain’t you a friendly fellow?” Mack stood on the first rail and stroked the gelding’s head. “I’ll bet you’d let me ride you, wouldn’t you?”
Letter to a Lonesome Cowboy Page 19