by Maggie James
She would do fine, he said. She could ride and rope and shoot as good as any man, and the wranglers knew if they regarded her in any way other than just another cowpoke they would answer to him personally.
Secretly, Tess did not think that would ever be necessary. After all, she had gained enough self-confidence to feel she could take care of herself.
In addition, she had made good friends with many of the men, including Buck Higgins, the foreman. Buck had a sweetheart in Sante Fe and was saving up money to build a cabin so he could marry her and bring her to the ranch.
But for herself, when any man dared hint of being romantically inclined, Tess quickly but politely let him know she was not interested.
Her heart, she had sadly found, was slow to heal from the wound Curt Hammond had inflicted.
At last, the camp began to stir as Tess saw a few of the men getting up off their bedrolls and heading down to the creek for their morning rituals.
Lowering the curtain tacked around the sides of the chuck wagon, she pulled off her nightshirt and maneuvered to get into her work clothes—denim shirt, trousers, and boots. Then she headed to an isolated section of the creek to take care of her own needs.
By the time she returned, bathed and freshened, the smell of bacon sizzling in the big iron skillet over the fire signaled that Andy, the cook, was ready to serve up breakfast.
She got in line with the others, holding out her tin plate to be heaped with bacon and biscuits, and a mug to be filled with Andy’s strong, black coffee.
“I swear, Tess,” Buck said as he walked up and saw her plate, “you eat as much as the rest of us.”
“Work makes me hungry,” she explained.
“Well, you must’ve never worked before coming here, ’cause you wouldn’t have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet back then. I remember thinking you were so skinny a big old hawk was gonna swoop down, grab you, and carry you off.”
Andy heaped an extra spoonful of eggs on her plate and scolded Buck, “You leave her alone. Thanks to my cooking, a hawk wouldn’t look twice at her, not the way I’ve put meat on her bones.”
Tess laughed, knowing it was so. She had filled out during the winter and actually thought she looked better—not that it mattered. She never worried about trying to look pretty and feminine, concentrating instead on learning everything Ben endeavored to teach her.
Her golden curls were no more. The first thing she had done after arriving at the ranch was to cut the long, little-girl locks so the hat Ben gave her would sit tight on her head and not fall off all the time. Now her hair was short and smooth around her face, which she personally thought was more becoming.
As for her body, there was no denying she had put on weight. Her breasts were larger, hips fuller, but she had managed to maintain her tiny waist.
Her skin was tanned to a healthy glow, and her blue eyes sparkled with hope and happiness.
Tess felt like a new woman and was proud of all her accomplishments thus far.
She was also pleased to feel she had won the admiration of the men. Oh, at first they had been a bit leery over a woman wanting to work with them, but when they realized she was quite serious and willing to do her share, they quickly warmed to her.
“Sit here.” Buck waved her over.
She sat down on the ground in the circle with everyone else and made the usual small talk about the day ahead. Cattle that had scattered during the winter needed to be found, as well as winter-born calves branded.
When they finished and gave Andy their dirty pans and mugs, it was time to saddle the horses and get to work.
Tess was smoothing out the blanket on Saber’s back when Buck called, “When are you gonna sell him to me? I swear, I’d be tempted to spend all the money I’ve saved up to marry Katie if I could buy a fine animal like that.”
Tess beamed. “There’s not enough money in the world to buy him, and you know it.” Ben had given her the magnificent quarterhorse with the stipulation that she had to learn to ride him and ride him well. She had done so, in the process discovering he was unusually fast.
“Ben sure showed what he thought of you when he gave him to you,” Buck said. “Quarterhorses have got the best of both the rugged Spanish breed and the English racers, to boot. You do know Ben bought him from Richard King himself, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes.” It was another reason she treasured the horse. Captain Richard King, said to be the cattle baron of Texas, was known far and wide for his fine quarterhorses. He had bought well-bred Kentucky stallions and crossed them with Spanish mares, and cost was no object if he liked an animal’s size and conformation. It was even said he had paid as much as six hundred dollars for one stallion, an unheard-of price. She had no idea what Ben had paid for Saber but knew it must have been a lot.
She also knew that Portia and Tyler had not liked it one little bit when Ben gave him to her, for she had heard them railing at him when they thought she was not around.
Tess swung the heavy saddle up and in place without anyone offering to help. If she needed assistance, she was not too proud to ask, but everyone knew better than to assume she was helpless.
Grabbing hold of the saddle horn with her left hand, Tess put her foot in the stirrup, swung herself up into the saddle, and took the reins.
“You look like a midget up there,” one of the other men teased her. “That’s how come you win races, ’cause you’re so little and light.”
“Oh, that’s not true, and you know it,” she said with a laugh. “You’re just mad because I’ve beat you twice, Harland, and—”
Everyone glanced around at the sound of a horse coming in hard and fast.
“Who the hell is that?” Harland mumbled.
The stranger reined to a stop at the corral and swept everyone with an arrogant grin before saying, “Howdy, boys. I’m here to join you. Tyler Moseley hired me on this morning. The name’s Zeke Whaley.”
Buck frowned. “Well, Zeke, I’m foreman of this outfit. Tyler didn’t say nothing to me about taking on a new man, and he always does.”
Zeke shrugged. “Talk to him about that. All I know is he told me to get started.”
“Well, I guess we can always use more help, but I’ll be watching to see that you pull your load.”
Tess saw how Zeke smirked before turning away, and took an instant dislike to him. She could not put her finger on it, but there was something about him that told her he was a man to be wary of.
And Buck, she soon discovered, felt the same way. “I don’t like him,” he confided. “I think I smelled whiskey on his breath.”
Tess thought of the times she had happened to see Tyler taking a drink first thing in the day. Maybe he had asked the new man to join him. But she opted not to make such a comment to Buck, who seemed annoyed enough.
“Maybe he’ll work out,” she offered, then wondered out loud, “How come Ben didn’t have a say in hiring him?”
“There’s a lot Ben don’t do that he used to. Like the drive coming up. I heard it’ll be the first one he’s ever missed.” He tossed her a worried look. “He said anything to you about feeling sick?”
“He wouldn’t. He’s too stubborn. But I’ve noticed he seems tired all the time.”
Buck sighed. “Well, pity us all when he kicks the bucket, ’cause Tyler will be hell to work for, him and that hateful wife of his.”
Tess was struck by his remark. She did not want to think about anything happening to Ben. Not only had she come to love him like a father, but she was also depending on his guidance when she eventually had a spread of her own.
The day was grueling, but Tess knew what to do. She had learned much in the fall roundup, which had lasted nearly a month, when the calves had to be separated from the mature animals, which were sold for local marketing.
Once the cattle were driven into the corral, work was hard and fast. Tess helped cut the ones to be branded from the rest so the ropers could catch and throw them. She took her turn at that, too, and th
ough not as quick as those with years of experience behind them, and certainly not as strong as the men, she could eventually still bring down a steer by digging in her heels and hanging onto his horns for dear life.
She also helped the men called wrestlers, by holding the animals down while other cowhands thrust red-hot branding irons into their hides.
Eventually the scene turned into a bedlam of loud, bellowing beasts, choking dust, oppressive heat, and the sickly smell of singed hair.
It was late afternoon when activities slowed down. It was only the third day of a roundup that would take several weeks, and everyone was already exhausted.
After unsaddling Saber, rubbing him down and making sure he had his share of oats and water, Tess grabbed up some clean clothes and hurried toward the creek for a much-needed bath. Some of the men didn’t mind going to bed without washing, but she could not bear to.
Halfway there, she heard someone coming behind her and turned around to see it was the new man—Zeke Whaley.
He was grinning from ear to ear. “I’m glad I caught up with you. I saw you headed down here. We ain’t met.”
“I know who you are,” she said coolly.
“Oh, I know who you are, too.” His gaze was insolent. “You’re the little gal who wants to act like a man, but I bet if the truth be known you’re full of fire and just itchin’ to have somebody make you feel like a woman.”
Tess blinked, stunned he could be so crass. “I beg your pardon…”
He chuckled. “Oh, don’t get a hitch in your britches. I’m not gonna try nothing. I’ve seen how things are, how these cowpokes are as protective of you as a pack of dogs trailin’ a bitch in heat.”
Tess went stiff. She was wearing a double holster, as always, but hoped she would not have to draw against him.
He noticed her holster and said, “I see you wear your guns butt out. That means you cross draw…which also means you know how to shoot. I’ve also seen how well you ride that fine horse of yours.”
He made a smacking sound and swung his head slowly from side to side. “My, my, I’ll bet you’re one hell of a woman, Tess Partridge. Someday maybe you’ll show me, but right now I want to talk to you about that horse of yours.”
“What about him?”
“Where’d you get him?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Ben Moseley gave him to me.”
She found his snicker greatly offensive, almost as much as the nasty insinuation that followed. “Now, why would an old man give a pretty little thing like you an expensive horse like that? I can just imagine…”
“You can just go to hell,” Tess snapped.
Before, when she was considered a tenderfoot, she might have reacted with less fervor, but now, she was not about to put up with such treatment, and warned, “The smart thing for you to do is back off, mister. I don’t want any part of you.”
“Oh, you’re gonna have a part of me, all right. And so is everybody else, whether you like it or not, because—”
“He bothering you, Tess?”
Zeke whipped his head around at the voice behind him as Tess saw Buck walk up to them.
“Maybe nobody told you,” Buck said to Zeke, “but we treat this little lady with respect. You get out of line, and you’ll answer to all of us.”
Zeke spread his hands in surrender. “You got it all wrong. I was just asking about her horse.”
Buck countered, “Her horse is none of your business.”
Zeke looked from Buck to Tess as he smiled and said, “Well, he might be, unless she’s too big a coward to wager him in a race with mine. I’ve heard about her, all right, how she thinks her horse is so goddamn fast.”
“He is fast,” Tess said hotly.
Buck held up a hand for her to be quiet. “She’s not racing.”
“Why not?” Zeke challenged. “I’ve been watching that horse all day. I want him.”
With a sneer, Buck pointed out, “Well, if you think he’s so great and fast, what makes you think your horse can beat him?”
“It’s not a matter of my horse outrunning hers. I just don’t believe she’s a good enough rider to beat me.”
Tess could stand no more and cried, “We’ll see about that.”
“Stop it, Tess,” Buck ordered. “He’s not going to goad you into a race. Not now. You might get hurt, and we’ve got a roundup to finish.”
Tess hurried to step between them, anxious to remind Buck, “You seem to forget I had my share of falls back when I was learning to ride, but I always took my licks and got up for more. I didn’t do it to have somebody like him”—she cocked her head at Zeke—“say he can beat me because he can ride a horse better than I can.”
A crowd was gathering as the others had heard the commotion and wanted to know what was going on.
Buck took Tess’s arm and pulled her to one side to whisper, “This is silly. You’ve never raced before with Saber as the wager. What if you lose?”
She faced his fiery eyes with her own. “Then I guess I don’t deserve to have him, do I? But that’s not going to happen, Buck. If I can decide what kind of race it’s to be, I’ll do it. He’s probably thinking it will be flat-out distance racing, but I want barrels.”
At that, Buck gave an approving nod. “I’ll go along with that. I know how fast Saber can run barrels.” He called back to Zeke, who was watching them with a smug expression. “She’ll do it, but when she wins, what are you prepared to give her?”
“Two hundred dollars. It’s all I’ve got.”
“I’ll take you on,” Tess said, “if you’re willing to run barrels.”
A cheer went up from the men watching.
Zeke frowned. As Tess had predicted, he had thought it would be a standard race, but now he had no choice except to agree to what she wanted. “Barrels, it is. With a flat-out run to the finish.”
Tess did not waver, knowing all she had to do was complete her set of barrels first and then she could beat him to the finish line.
Excitement exploded as word spread and the men began to bet among themselves. Most believed Tess would ultimately win, but there were a few who were confident Zeke Whaley had to have more experience at the tricky riding, so the stakes became interesting.
Andy served up supper—fresh butchered steaks, ash-cooked potatoes, boiled beans, and hot fried dried-apple pies—only no one seemed interested in eating. The impending race was far more appetizing.
The stranger was cocky, and most had decided they did not like him, even if a few chanced betting he would win. Tess, on the other hand, was well-liked, and no one, regardless of how he had wagered, wanted to see her lose Saber.
“Tess, are you really sure you want to do this?” Buck asked as she began to saddle up. “I can put a stop to it, you know,” he reminded her.
“Why would I want you to do that?”
“If you lose—”
She gave his cheek a pinch. “Will you please stop worrying? I am not going to lose. Saber loves to ride the barrels, and once he stretches out, no one can catch him.”
Buck looked doubtful. “Well, I’ve been thinking. We don’t know anything about this Zeke Whaley. He might have a trick up his sleeve, and if something did happen and you lost that horse, Ben would never forgive me. Hell, he might even fire me—if he don’t kill me first.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise. And you know I wouldn’t dare wager Saber if I thought there was the slightest chance I wouldn’t win.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “So stop worrying, wish me luck, and go bet some more money on me.”
“I’ve already bet all I’ve got.”
She was about to mount up when Andy came rushing over to tell them, “Ben just rode in. He’s got thunder in his eyes and headin’ this way.”
Tess looked beyond him to see Ben striding toward them and moaned, “I wonder who told him.”
Andy suggested, “Probably one of the boys went back to get money for his bet and couldn’t resist spread
ing the word.”
“Well, I’m not sticking around to watch the explosion,” Buck said. “He’s liable to blame me for not stopping it.” He hurried off in the opposite direction.
A few seconds later Ben arrived on the scene, gasping and out of breath, his face the color of an angry sunrise. “Tess, what’s this I’ve heard? Have you lost your mind?”
“No, I haven’t,” she said gently, “and there’s no reason for you be upset. Remember, you said I was the best rider you’ve ever seen besides yourself.”
“True, but how can you risk losing Saber? It would break both our hearts.”
“It’s not flat out, Ben. Not to start with, anyway. We’re going to run the barrels first. We circle three, and then head for the finish line after the fourth.”
“Barrels?” His mouth slowly spread to a relieved smile. “He agreed to run the barrels?”
“He did.”
He continued to grin. “You’re small. Light. Give Saber his head, and he’ll take them barrels quicker than you can say jackrabbit.”
“I know that. But Zeke is counting on me falling off. He’s already said the race isn’t about speed—it’s about him outriding me.”
“Then go ahead and make a fool of him, but”—his eyes narrowed to scold—“I want you to stop trying to prove yourself, Tess, before you get in trouble.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Think about it. You’re always trying to outshoot, outrope, or outride somebody. I wouldn’t be surprised one day to hear you tried to outfight somebody, too. You got to stop it. I know you felt like a fool a couple of times when you first came west and now you want to show the whole world you don’t ever have to be ashamed or scared again. But that’s nonsense.
“Besides,” he went on, softening his tone and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “one of the most important things you’ve got to remember is that you don’t have to prove anything to anybody except yourself.”
She knew he was right. She probably did get a little reckless sometimes. And yes, maybe she was out to show she was strong—but to the wrong people, for it was likely she would never again cross trails with the one she wanted to prove it to the most.