by Vivi Holt
Just then, she saw the herd pooling into a bunch, the cowboys circling around them. A few of the cowboys would stay with the herd while the others set up camp and rested. Then those on watch would get a reprieve as another group went on duty.
Genevieve slipped from Bess’ back and crouched in the long grasses. She watched as the campsite sprung to life. She could see the wagons and could occasionally make out the moving figure of a cowboy … or perhaps it was Cookie; it was hard to say. She settled on the ground to wait, and ate and drank from the supplies in her saddle bag. She chewed on some jerky and ate an apple and a slice of buttered bread.
When the light began to fade and the sun dipped beyond the horizon in a glorious display of orange, red and pink, she stood to her feet. She tugged on the reins and Bess followed her lead. She returned Bess to the remuda, where Ost pretended not to see her as she handed him Bess’ reins to feed and groom her. Then she sneaked around the outskirts of the campsite to the back of the chuck wagon, her carpet bag clutched beneath her arm.
She peeked around the side of the wagon and saw the cowhands and Cookie had settled around the campfire for the evening as she knew they would. She loosened the rope holding the canvas in place and climbed into the back of the wagon as she had in Fort Worth. As she crawled over kitchenware and food stuffs, she found her former perch on top of the cheese wheels and sat.
She knew the layout of the wagon by heart now and had soon retrieved a lantern. She lit it and turned it down low. It cast a dim glow around the back of the wagon. Then she set about scraping together some supper. There was cured ham, and bread which she slathered in butter and strawberry jam. She ate her fill and took another swig of cool, clear water from the canteen she’d carried with her into the wagon.
Just then, the canvas pulled away from the wagon and she jumped in fright. Sarah’s head appeared above the weathered boards. Her mouth formed a wide grin and she giggled in delight at her own surprise.
“Sarah, you scared the life out of me!” cried Genevieve, clutching at her chest.
“I’m sorry – I just couldn’t help myself. You breezed in so quietly, sure that no one had seen you. Then you lit a lantern for all to see.” She laughed, climbed over the side to sit with Genevieve and handed her a thick woolen blanket. “Here you go.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes and laughed along with her. “Thanks. You caught me. I just couldn’t go back to Texas. I couldn’t …”
“Well, you can tell me about why when you’re ready to.”
“Thank you.” She felt her heart warm as Sarah snuggled in close. The two of them sat side by side and Genevieve buttered a slice of bread for Sarah. “So does anyone else know I’m here?”
“Ummm … well, obviously Ost does. Bill, Dan, Dusty and Cookie know too.”
“What?”
“Yep.” Sarah grinned and popped another piece of bread in her mouth. “We were all worried about you, so when I saw you following us I let the others know. They were relieved. They were quietly planning to head back south tonight and find you after the cattle were bedded down. Then Ost told them what you’d done. He didn’t seem too pleased to have to lie to Tom about you, but I don’t think he’s even spoken to Tom yet. At least he hadn’t then.”
“Really?” Genevieve felt her throat tighten with emotion. “Do you think Tom knows?”
“No, Tom doesn’t know. He’d be furious.” The two women laughed together.
“Why do you think that is?” asked Genevieve.
“He’s got a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, a lot riding on this cattle drive. You could get him into trouble, you know. All these cowboys, my husband included, are relying on him for their livelihood. The cattle are counting on him to keep them safe. He feels the pressure of it all. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He cares about you. He just doesn’t know what to do about it because of all of this responsibility. And now, to find out that you’re married – it must have been hard for him. That’s what I think, anyway.” Sarah climbed back over the side of the wagon and shot Genevieve one last grin. “Sleep well, Genny.”
“Thanks, Sarah. You too.” Genevieve pulled the blanket over her tired body and curled up on her side. She slipped her hands beneath her head and closed her eyes.
Did Thomas really care about her? Sarah seemed to think that he did. He was the kind of man she wished she’d had a chance to meet when she was still single. Not that she was married in her mind, only in the eyes of the law. Did that make a difference? It did to her. She didn’t feel married. She certainly didn’t love, or even like, Quincey. In her heart and in her mind, she was single.
For the first time, she realized she had feelings for Thomas. He was strong and kind and honorable – characteristics she wasn’t used to finding in the men that had been a part of her young life so far. Granted, he’d made her leave the cattle drive, but apart from that he’d always treated her with kindness and respect. He was also the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on – that certainly didn’t hurt. But regardless of all that, the fact remained that in the eyes of the law and to Thomas, she was a married woman.
As she drifted off to sleep she dreamed of snowy mountain peaks. In her dreams, Thomas rode his chestnut stallion and smiled at her, beside him on Bess. They rode side by side as the sun set behind them, glancing off the surface of a large, still lake nestled in a valley between the peaks. In front of the lake, a prairie stretched out, flat and wide – tall grasses danced in the breeze as far as the eye could see. She was a child of this dream-scape, of peaks and prairies. She rode side by side with her love, and nothing stood between them.
Chapter Nine
Thomas rolled onto his side and peered through bleary eyes at the waning fire. The circle of men around the campfire was stirring in the light of a new dawn. He yawned wide and sat up on his bedroll. He hadn’t slept much – he hadn’t been able to get Genevieve off his mind. Had he made a mistake, sending her after her father and husband? He saw Ost had joined them only a few hours later, so they must have found them easily. They couldn’t have been far ahead of her. He’d have to find Ost and ask him about it, although the boy seemed to be avoiding him for some reason.
His stomach stirred with worry. He shouldn’t have sent her back. What if something happened to her? He hadn’t been thinking clearly – he was so concerned about getting this herd to Montana on time and showing Pa how he could do it on his own, he’d forgotten himself. He shook his head – she was with family now, she’d be fine.
He lurched to his feet, slipping his riding boots on over thick wool socks. The others were rolling their blankets inside the oilcloths that protected them from the cold and any curious critters throughout the night, tying them into tight bundles. He rolled his as well, then wandered over to the chuck wagon to throw the bedroll on top of the growing pile of items Cookie would pack away inside.
Where was Cookie? He was usually up and around by now. He threw a glance around the campfire and noticed Cookie’s bedroll was still laid out. As he sauntered over to take a closer look, he thought he saw movement under the blankets. He nudged Cookie with one foot. “Come on, old lady, it’s time to rise and shine.”
There was no response, apart from a muffled moan.
Thomas squatted beside the bedroll and pulled back the covers. Cookie laid still, his eyes closed. A loud snore emitted from him, and Thomas fell back as a blast of alcohol-tainted breath hit him in the face. The man was drunk. “Cookie, wake up!” He shook him.
Chipper Hayes, a rough cowboy from California, sat on the bedroll beside Cookie, rubbing his eyes. “Ain’t no use, boss. He’s out, I’d say. We played poker into the wee hours and he drank double for every shot of tequila I had.”
Thomas frowned and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be drinking on the job, Chipper. You know that. I won’t have any more of it, do you hear me?”
Chipper nodded, his face tight.
“And just what are we supposed to do about breakfast, then?”
He sighed and stood to his feet. Where was Sarah? Was everyone in hiding this morning? He supposed he’d just have to do the cooking. Surely it couldn’t be too hard – he’d seen Cookie do it often enough. “I guess it’s on me.”
He strode to the chuck wagon and climbed up over the wagon seat and through the hole in the front of the canvas cover, slipping his hat from his head and bending low to fit beneath the cover. The wagon was stacked full of supplies, and Thomas wasn’t even sure where to start looking for breakfast foods. A kind of pathway had been fashioned into the bedlam, and he pushed his way through to the back of the wagon.
There was a frying pan – he reached for it. He found a spatula, then the salt pork. Just as he was about to reach for some biscuits he’d seen Cookie bake the previous day, his foot landed on something soft. The soft thing moved.
“Genny?!?” he asked, his eyes wide.
She sat up and pulled her skirts down over her exposed ankles, then rubbed her eyes and grinned at him through a yawn that she quickly covered with her hand. “Good morning, Tom.”
“What are you doing here? I thought you’d headed back south. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I never went south – I followed you yesterday and climbed in here to sleep when you bedded down. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t go back.”
Relief coursed through his body and he fought the overwhelming urge to fall to his knees and embrace her, stroke her shining hair and run a finger across her full, pink lips. “Well … I’m glad you’re fine. You know you shouldn’t have done that. ‘Course, I really can’t spare any men to take you back to Texas now, and your pa and husband are probably long gone. So I guess you’ll have to stick with us from here on out. I’m going to have to talk with Ost about this. He never said a word to me.” He scratched at his growing beard and used his hand to smother a happy smile that she was back. “You know, we could use your help this morning. Cookie’s taken ill and I was just about to try and make breakfast for everyone.”
“You, make breakfast?” she chuckled. “Do you even know how?”
“I’m sure I can figure it out. So do you think you could give me a hand, then?”
“I’d be happy to.” Genevieve smiled.
Thomas hovered, waiting. “Are you coming?”
“Could you give me a moment, please?”
“Oh … yes of course.” Thomas felt his cheeks flush with warmth, and he hurried from the wagon. He jumped to the hard earth below and pushed his Stetson back onto his head. She was back. He grinned and picked up his pace. Really, she hadn’t left at all – she was with them the whole time.
As he approached the campfire circle, he noticed several cowboys standing around. They seemed to be watching him, their eyes wary. Dusty stoked the fire and Stan fixed a kettle on a stand above it to boil water for coffee. Vaquero sat on his haunches, picking at his teeth with a piece of dry grass. Frank had come back in from his night duty and was fussing with his buckskin mare, brushing her coat dry. Ost lurked at a distance. All eyes were on Thomas. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Where’s breakfast?” asked Chipper, still sitting bleary-eyed on his bed roll. “Thought you was gonna make somethin’.”
Thomas stopped still and addressed the group with a smile. “Genny’s back. Well, she never really left. She’s in the chuck wagon and she’s going to start breakfast in just a moment.” He waited for the exclamations of surprise, and instead witnessed the cowboys exchange smug glances. “What, you knew?”
“Sorry, Tom,” said Dan the trail boss. “It was kind of hard to miss her trailing us all day. You were in the lead so you wouldn’t have noticed, but the rest of us saw her. We knew. We were going to go after her and bring her back anyhow, but then we saw she never really left, like you said, so we didn’t have to.”
Thomas’ mouth dropped open and he put his hands on his hips. “Well … you don’t have to worry any longer, I guess. She’s fine, she’s back and breakfast will be ready shortly.” He hurried off to ready Alto for the day’s ride. The stallion was grazing on the other side of the remuda, and Thomas felt the weight of the previous night’s worries lift from his shoulders as he walked. He smiled and whistled, noting for the first time that it really was a very fine day.
Chapter Ten
Genevieve collected the dirty plates from around the campfire and stacked them in her apron to carry back to the wash pail. They were camped for the night beside a lazy brown river, so she and Sarah were washing as many things as they could. She could see Sarah standing on the dim moonlit riverbank, stretching a clothesline between the branches of ash and prickly bushes on which she’d lay the various items of clean laundry that sat in a basket at her feet.
Chipper sat by the fire, cleaning his rifle and chewing on a wad of tobacco. An occasional stream of brown juice spurted from between his lips and landed in a growing puddle beside his left foot. “You ever shot a rifle like this‘un?” he asked her, pausing in his work to squint at her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one quite like it.”
He grinned with pride and spat again. “It’s a Remington breech-loader. Nothin’ else ‘round can match it. Them Indians won’t be able to take me, that’s for dang sure.”
Genevieve leaned over to pick up his empty plate, and he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her down and planting a wet kiss on her lips. She pulled back with a cry and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. He chuckled and returned to cleaning his weapon.
She grimaced and her breath caught in her throat. She’d have to be careful around him, it seemed. The others were all occupied elsewhere and he’d taken an opportunity he never would’ve if Thomas had been close by.
By the time she reached the chuck wagon, her entire body was shaking. What had she done to deserve being treated that way? Her ma had raised her to be a lady. Granted, they’d always been poor and lived in Texas – on the very edge of civilization itself, as Ma used to say – but that didn’t mean she should be treated as if she was nothing.
She heard a shout from behind her, and turned back to see Dusty and Chipper scuffling together by the camp fire. She gasped and dropped the dirty dishes in a pile at her feet, covering her open mouth with both hands.
“How dare you, you varmint!” shouted Dusty. “I’ll teach you to treat a lady that way!” He clocked Chipper under the chin with a heavy punch. Chipper fell to the ground and scrambled back up, eying Dusty with a menacing stare. He rushed at Dusty and felled him, and the two men wrestled in the dirt, fists flying and arms flailing.
“Hey! Hey!” Dan ran toward them from where he’d been tending a lame gelding in the remuda. “What’s going on here?” He grabbed them each by the collar and held them apart as they continued to swing at each other.
Genevieve didn’t want to wait around to hear their explanations. She knew that she was the cause of their altercation and felt the tug of shame at her heart. Thomas would say it was her fault, that she shouldn’t be on this cattle drive. He’d had concerns about bringing her along right from the beginning, and now the men were tearing each other apart over her. She stopped before the washing pail and pushed the dishes into the soapy water, scrubbing them hard and letting the tears fall.
Cookie came up behind her – he seemed to be having difficulty walking in a straight line toward the chuck wagon and his bedroll. “We’d best stop in a town over the next coupla weeks – we’ll need a few fresh supplies,” he slurred.
Genevieve pulled herself together and took a deep breath before replying in a small voice. “Yes. Tom says we’ll be passing through Indian Territory for a while, but we should be able to find a town soon after that in time to restock.”
He grunted in response and began rummaging through the wagon.
“Can I get your bedroll for you?” asked Genevieve, standing and wiping her wet hands down the front of her apron.
“That’d be mighty kind of ya.” He smiled through crooked, browning teeth.
Genevieve felt her heart stir with pit
y for the old man. “Where are your family, Cookie? Do they live in Texas?”
“Wife and daughter died ten years ago. No one left now but me.” He said it as though it didn’t tear his heart out, but Genevieve could see that it did.
“I’m sorry. I know that must be hard for you.”
“It were a long time ago now. Life goes on for some – not much can be done about it.”
Genevieve handed him the bedroll and laid her hand on his shoulder for a moment.
He nodded and turned to head back to the campsite. She almost didn’t hear him, he said it so quietly, but the words drifted over his shoulder: “Glad yer back.”
Genevieve rubbed her face with her hands and smiled. It was nice to know someone appreciated having her here. She walked around the back of the wagon and picked up the rope that lay there. Following it along, she reached Patches. The calf lay in the grass, her legs curled up under her and her head resting on the ground. She lifted it when Genevieve reached her and licked out a long tongue, catching her arm with it. It was wet and rough as sand.
“Hello there, girl. How are you today?” Genevieve rubbed the calf’s neck and scratched her behind the ears. She pulled some potato peelings from her apron pocket and handed them to the calf, who chewed them slowly. “You’re glad I’m back too, aren’t you?”
The calf chewed in response, prodding at Genevieve with her head in search of something better to eat.
“You’ll get your milk in the morning – you’ve already had your supper, greedy guts.” She chuckled and sat beside the calf in the long grass that had been flattened by the tramping of tiny hooves. “I’m so glad you’re here with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It’s lonesome for a woman on a cattle drive. Well, I have Sarah too, thank heavens for that. I just miss Ma, as always.”