Jonas didn’t say anything. Then he sighed. “I hate that you felt you had to go it alone, Silas. We’re brothers.” He paused. “I will always have your back. How could you forget that?”
Today was a good time for that reminder to resurface.
Another long-suffering sigh gusted from Jonas and Silas braced himself. “We’ll do this. On one condition.”
“What?”
Jonas grinned. “You owe me a bottle of whiskey after I kick your ass in the horsemanship competition.”
Silas laughed. “Deal.”
“Let’s go have us some fun, brother.”
It turned out that the West brothers were not competing in the cattleman’s class. They’d just wanted a better view of the events.
More spectators gathered around, and Silas tried to focus on the competitions rather than all the folks staring at him while he participated.
Jonas won the horse handling skills contest. The only one who came close to handling his horse with such finesse was…Silas. He took second place.
The bronc bustin’ contest was for fools and show-offs. Still, Silas hopped on a wild horse, if for no other reason than to show up his brother and to remind himself why he didn’t buy unbroke horses. Only one other fella managed to stay on longer than him, and that meant another second-place finish.
Afterward, as he caught his breath, he noticed Dinah standing with a group of ladies—Bea Talbot, Esther McCrae, Mary O’Brien and Sarah White were the only ones he recognized. With her jaw set in a hard line and her full lips flat, he sensed she wasn’t happy to be in their company.
“McKay! You’re the last one up,” echoed to him and he reluctantly turned around.
Ride’n rope was a challenge where a rider chased down a calf on horseback, roping it, dismounting the horse and tying the calf’s four legs together—all as quickly as possible. Maybe he should’ve been working his rope between events, but since he did this every day, he figured he didn’t need the practice.
Turned out he was right. He’d beat his next closest competitor—Jonas—by nearly fifteen seconds. Valuing speed more than accuracy didn’t really reflect a rancher’s daily skills, but a win was a win.
Silas and Jonas were partnered for the team roping. They were picked to go first. They didn’t even have to discuss who was doing what beforehand. As soon as the calf raced into view, they were after it, Jonas reining his horse to the left side to rope the calf’s head and Silas reining his horse to the right side to rope the calf’s back legs. Didn’t take them any time at all. They were pleased they’d broke the previous years’ record by ten seconds. No other team came close to beating them.
The McKays winning streak didn’t win them any friends among the other cattlemen. Beloved Deputy Jonas could soothe their ruffled feathers and bow out of the last event just as long as he didn’t expect Silas to follow suit. Because that event was where Silas excelled: roping.
He’d never participated in this style of competition. First he’d have to rope a moving object while he remained in one spot on the ground. Then on horseback he’d have to rope and drag a stationary object.
The first object was a pan hanging on the right side of a saddle horn. Easy peasy. The second challenge was easier yet: roping a log and dragging it twenty feet through the dirt.
Again, Silas won.
Few congratulated him for winning three first places and two second places.
He would’ve preferred cash to store credits in Sundance, but at least the credits were at the hardware store. Every little bit helped.
During the break between the cow and sheep classes, he looked for Dinah but couldn’t find her. Maybe she’d headed back to town because she believed he’d be done competing. But it wasn’t like her not to wait for him. Especially since he’d been the big winner. He’d sorta hoped for a victory kiss from his girl.
The crowd milled around as the event coordinators set up.
Allen yelled out for all sheep competitors to approach.
Jonas and Silas didn’t look at each other as they stepped forward.
But it sure seemed as if everyone else was looking at them.
Allen clapped his hands for attention. “First up is the sheep dip contest. This is where boys eight and under ride a sheep to the finish line. Fastest time to the finish line wins. Follow Miss O’Brien over to the fence.”
“What about girls?” some woman yelled from the back.
“Boys only.” He scanned the papers in front of him. “Second competition is penning. Team competition. Two men on horseback sort and pen the specific number on the sheep.” He held up a piece of a paper with a number written on it. “Each sheep in the fenced area will have a number clipped to it. Your job will be to sort only the sheep wearing this number into the pen as quickly as possible.”
Silas leaned closer to Jonas. “Like separatin’ the mama’s and babies for brandin’.”
“Yep.”
“Third competition is dally ribbon ropin’. Team competition. One man on horseback ropes the ram’s horn. One man on the ground as the runner has to remove the ribbon from around the ram’s neck after it’s been roped and he then runs to the finish line.”
“That’s new,” Silas said.
Allen said, “And the last event: sheep shearing. You’ll shear your own sheep. This is an individual competition, not a team. And if you didn’t bring sheep, you can’t participate.”
Some smart-mouth said, “That means you, McKays.”
Jonas rolled his eyes. “It’s odd that they only have three events.”
Silas snickered. “Because it’d be indecent if they had them publicly compete at what sheep-fuckers are best at.”
“Jesus, Silas.”
“What? You were thinkin’ the same damn thing, Deputy.”
Jonas’s lips twitched. “Yeah, but thinkin’ it and sayin’ it…”
While the parents prepped their boys for the sheep dip, Zeke West stormed over.
“What in the hell do you two think you’re doin’?” Zeke demanded. “You ain’t runnin’ sheep. Which means you ain’t allowed to compete.”
“You ain’t runnin’ sheep either, West. You work for the railroad, remember?” Silas pointed to Zachariah. “You don’t even live on his place anymore.”
Zeke glared at him.
“Besides, we cleared it with Allen. He said we were welcome to compete. You don’t like it, take it up with him.” Silas stepped closer. “And I hope you do. I’d like to see that temper of yours flare up and get you kicked outta this competition entirely.”
“We won all the events last year,” Zeke bragged. “They ain’t about to deny the reigning champs a chance to repeat.”
Silas watched Zachariah amble closer. “You saw the cattleman’s competition. So you’re aware that a few of the bronc bustin’ guys weren’t ranchers. No different for us not bein’ sheepf”—he paused, as if to stop himself from finishing that thought—“farmers.”
Jonas choked back a laugh. Then he offered his hand to Zachariah. “Good luck.”
Zachariah grunted his response, but he did shake Jonas’s hand.
Neither Silas nor Zeke pretended they could put their differences aside even for a simple handshake.
The whistle blew as the signal to start the sheep dip race.
Silas and Jonas both busted a gut watching kids being tossed around as they attempted to ride fluffy sheep. The winner had gotten thrown off four times but had climbed back on and had ridden to victory.
But there was a collective booing in the crowd when the winner was revealed to be Edna Mae and not Ed. The second-place finisher was awarded first place, which Silas thought was a bunch of sheep shit.
It was time for him and Jonas to mount up again. As they walked back to their horses, they heard someone shout “McKay!” and they both turned around.
Dinah waved to him. Silas hadn’t seen her because she’d been under the shade of a lacy parasol, standing next to…Madam Ruby…who was holding the
parasol.
Jonas went utterly still beside him. “What the devil are the two of them doin’ together?”
“Dinah’s likely checkin’ to see how Miss Ruby fared. ’Bout two weeks back, Miss Ruby showed up at Doc’s needin’ stitches and Dinah ended up stitching her up.”
“I know that,” Jonas snapped.
Silas stopped. “How do you know? You weren’t on duty, since it happened the night we were in Gillette.” Then he paused. “Guess I never thought about the sheriff’s office getting involved, but it makes sense since someone got hurt. Anyway, don’t worry about it. Dinah can hold her own. Come on.”
Since only five teams were competing for the penning prize, they drew straws to see who went first.
“West brothers, you’re up first. Followed by Andrews and Hall. Then the McKays.”
With a team buffered between them, Silas and Jonas could watch the Wests compete.
And Silas almost felt sorry for the West brothers.
Almost.
If Zeke would’ve listened to his brother, they probably would’ve done fine. But Zeke’s horse kept fighting him. Finally Zachariah yelled, “Just get number eight outta here.”
As soon as Zeke was out of Zachariah’s way, he had the six sheep penned.
Silas started to shout, “Better luck next time!” as the West brothers rode off, but Jonas snapped, “Leave it.”
They mounted up and took their horses away from the crowd, giving them room to move.
Jonas seemed agitated. Luckily for him, Silas wasn’t the type to let him brood like an old mare. “What’s got a burr under your saddle?”
“Nothin’.”
Like hell.
“McKay brothers, you’re up,” the event leader shouted.
“Well, whatever’s got you so sore, leave it until after we win this damn thing, okay?”
“Yeah. Come on.” Jonas spurred his horse, leaving Silas to follow.
Once they were in the paddock, Jonas deferred to him.
Fifteen sheep were released. The leader shouted, “Number two.”
There could be as many as nine number-two-marked sheep, or as few as three number-two-marked sheep.
Jonas went left; Silas went right.
Silas yelled out his count first. “I see seven.”
“Yep. Seven.”
Rather than attempting to sort in close quarters, Silas scattered the entire flock of sheep. Jonas’s horse had more dexterity, so he cut and penned the number twos one at a time after Silas moved the other numbers back.
It took them four minutes from start to finish.
The cattlemen who’d stayed to watch this competition clapped enthusiastically when the McKay brothers’ time—a new record—was announced.
Zeke West glared and didn’t notice when Zachariah gave them a quick hat tip.
They hung around until the last team finished and the McKays were announced the event winners. The prize was another store certificate to Farnum’s in Sundance.
Silas thanked the event coordinators and the sponsors. Then he left the competition area and scanned the crowd until he spied who he was looking for. He dismounted before approaching her.
She didn’t return his smile. She studied him with her arms crossed over her chest. He didn’t blame her.
“Hey there. I gotta say, you were the best sheep wrangler in the sheep dip competition, and you won fair and square, Edna Mae. So if it’s okay with your folks, I’d like to give you our winner’s certificate to make things right.”
Edna Mae’s eyes widened. “But you had the best time. The best time ever! Don’t you wanna buy something special?”
Silas shrugged. “We already got a certificate in the cattlemen’s competition. I’ll probably spend it on something boring. But you deserve to get yourself something special for bein’ the best. So what do you say?”
Her mother said, “Are you sure, Mr. McKay?”
“Yep. Just as long as you let Edna Mae spend this however she wants.” He winked at the girl. “Even if she uses it all to buy candy and fireworks.”
“That’s generous of you.” She prompted her daughter. “What do you say?”
Edna Mae grinned at him. “Thank you, Mr. McKay.”
“You are welcome.”
Silas walked his horse back over to the pens behind the competition area, leaving it in the hands of the stable boy since he wouldn’t need it for the last competition. He turned around and Jonas was right there.
“Now before you get mad—”
“Why would I get mad? I’d planned on doin’ the same damn thing.”
“Oh. Well. Okay.” He adjusted his hat. “We ain’t so different after all.”
Something in the distance had caught Jonas’s attention as he sat on top of his horse. Without looking away, Jonas said, “How I wish that were true, brother.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ruby had planned to spend the Fourth of July in her room cutting out fabric pieces to create a new jacket. She’d given her girls the entire day and evening off; customers were always scarce on a family day devoted to picnics and frolicking. She’d expected her girls to hang around the boardinghouse since they likely wouldn’t be interested in attending the celebration in Sundance.
But they’d surprised her. Millie had organized an outing for all the girls, plus Mavis and Dickie, to the Belle Fourche River, where they could swim. Then afterward, they’d head to Hulett for that township’s celebration. They’d invited her to join them, but she knew they’d have a more relaxed day if she declined.
Even Sackett’s had closed.
Her rooms were stifling. Given her recent outdoors excursion with Jonas, she was having a harder time than usual staying inside.
As brave as she considered herself to be, the idea of rolling into Sundance by herself filled her with dread. But the thought of hiding away in her rooms on such a glorious day gave her pause too.
Damn them all. As a citizen and as an American she had every right to be there. Every right to celebrate.
She exited her rooms and headed up to the second floor. The snoring coming from behind the closed door to the smallest room indicated she wouldn’t have to go far to find who she sought. She knocked once.
A mad scramble ensued inside, and a sleepy Jimmy flung open the door. “Miss Ruby. I’m sorry. Mrs. Mavis said it was all right that I slept here last night, and I didn’t mean to stay this long. Please don’t—”
“It’s fine, Jimmy.”
“Okay.” He yawned. “I’ll be out in a jiff.”
“Actually I was looking for you.”
“What do you need?”
“What are your plans for today?”
“Nothin’. Might go fishin’. Why?”
“How would you like to go to the Independence Day celebration in Sundance?”
His eyes lit up. “No foolin’?”
The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was the perfect solution. “There’d be a few things I’d need you to do, but they’re basic and I’d pay you. You’d also have time to take part in the celebration.”
“Heck yeah, Miss Ruby, that’d be swell!” He furrowed his brow. “But wait. Can Martha come? I’d told her we could spend today doin’ stuff since I didn’t hafta be at Sackett’s.”
“Jimmy darling. I know she’s your friend,” she said gently, “but I don’t think an Indian girl would be any more welcome in Sundance than I would be.”
He grinned. “She’s good at hidin’ herself. She dresses like a boy and no one pays no attention to her.”
“If you promise to be responsible for her, then yes, she can come. I’ll need you to go over to Blackbird’s and get us a horse. And a buggy big enough for three.”
“Martha will want to ride her own horse. She don’t like to be beholden to nobody.”
“No, she’ll have to ride with us, Jimmy. A lone rider riding bareback will cause a stir among the crowd in Sundance, and honey, that’s not blending in.”
&nb
sp; “Fine. I’ll tell her.”
“I’ll be ready in an hour.”
“Me too.” He turned away but she caught him before he got far.
“Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast, mister. You will wash. With soap. I’ll be sitting next to you in that buggy, so I will know if you skip it. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ruby chose her outfit carefully. With this heat the less fabric the better, but folks expected to see her wearing outrageous clothes meant for the boudoir. Yet donning a prim and proper high-necked blouse with full sleeves to her fingertips guaranteed she’d sweat. She opted for a shirtwaist the color of ripe strawberries with three-quarters-length mutton leg sleeves and a sweetheart neckline with white satin piping. She paired that with a plain gray lightweight cotton skirt. Her hat was a gorgeous monstrosity, small-brimmed with silk rosettes the same hue as her blouse, with loops of ivory silk ribbon, sprays of pearls and glass stones fashioned to look like clusters of raspberries, and finished with tufts of silvery gray netting and downy white feathers. She snagged her fanciest parasol with the white tulle and lace and slipped on her comfiest pair of boots.
Just in case none of the food vendors would sell to Jimmy, Ruby packed a lunch for three, comprised of cheese sandwiches, black walnut sugar cookies and fresh figs. Just in case her nerves got the better of her, she packed a big flask of cherried brandy.
Jimmy and Martha pulled up in front of the boardinghouse exactly on time. At least she believed the small person driving the buggy was Martha. Jimmy had been right about one thing: Martha easily passed as a boy.
“Miss Ruby, this here is my best friend, Martha. Call her Marty when we get to town.” Jimmy hopped down and stowed the basket of food and the parasol before he helped Ruby into the buggy, crowding in beside her on the small bench seat.
“It’s nice to meet you…Marty.”
She flashed teeth that shone white against her beautiful skin tone. “Same, Miss Ruby.” Her gaze encompassed Ruby’s hat. “If you ever need quills or rabbits’ fur for your fancy hats or clothes, tell Jimmy and I’ll bring you stuff. Nice skins. For less than you’ll pay at the general store.”
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