A Cowboy Worth Claiming (8 page)

Chapter Five

E
verything ached.

After just three days on the trail, Lizzie felt sore from the John B. setting atop her head right down to the swollen toes of her too-tight boots. It was surely surprising that her body reacted this way. She’d been on many a trail drive before. The difference was that this time, Lizzie had no chuck wagon to ride in when her legs cramped up and cried for relief. She had no cozy bunk inside that chuck wagon to curl up into a ball for a warm and pleasing night’s sleep.

Her nights were spent under the stars on the cold unforgiving earth. To her dismal dismay, her exhaustion wasn’t enough to keep her asleep all through the night as she’d hoped. When she’d thought to sleep for hours, she’d been roused by the sound of steers rustling around and a lone coyote howling in the distance. She would look up at the stars if she thought that would settle her, but knew it was futile. There’d be no more guessing the constellations, no more lessons from a father keen on astronomy. The stars no longer held her fascination.

Instead she would toss and turn on the hard-packed ground searching for a measure of comfort. A smidge of fear would enter her head, knowing she was sleeping alone in the camp and maybe that had something to do with her unease. Chance watched over the cattle during the night. At times, she would hear him come close by, checking on her again, before he walked over to the herd to continue his shift. He let her rest the longest, only waking her in those few hours before dawn to spell him. How he managed to drive the cattle all day and watch over them at night, getting only a few hours of sleep, was a wonder to her.

“We’ll stop and make camp now,” Chance called from his position at the flank of the herd.

Hallelujah! Chance’s declaration was joyous to her ears. Each day she’d prayed to hear those words. And because Lizzie was obstinate enough for five women and refused to show him her discomfort, he’d taken advantage and pressed the drive an extra hour each day. That last hour on the trail was the worst. Grueling and so painful to her rear end. She was sure she had calluses on her rump now. There was most likely a whole batch of blisters and bruises that colored her cheeks purple back there. The ache of sitting on the saddle, rubbing her skin against leather all day, every day, put her in a foul disposition. And a small part of her suspected that Chance might be torturing her on purpose.

She gathered her brows when he approached, pulling up on the reins when he got near. “Clouds are coming in. We might get rain.”

She grimaced and peered up at the sky. Darn if he wasn’t right. The air around her grew cooler and the clouds coming from the north were moving fast. If she was prone to swearing, vile curses would slip from her lips now. The one thing that they’d had on this drive that brought a little ease was sunshine and warm weather. Now, even that was about to change.

“Great,” she said with a sour puss.

Chance glanced up, assessing the sky after taking note of her ill humor. “It won’t be storming, Lizzie. Just a little rain. We’ll be fine.”

Chance left her with a list of chores to do and then rode off to gather whatever he could find to make a fire, cow dung being the most readily available material on the trail.

As she slithered down from Surefoot, her body screamed its rebellion. Her legs hit solid ground and she gasped from the burn that shot up from her toes clear to her rubbed-raw thighs. The chaps she wore only protected so much and they didn’t provide any help for the muscles that she’d abused.

Lizzie ignored the pain the best she could, though the ache fought mightily for attention. As Chance had directed, she gathered the horses together and led them to a small stream where they could drink their fill.

Maybe she’d been too harsh in her thinking about Chance and his need to torture her. He did know the land. She was learning that he made wise choices. He’d found sites to settle for the night close to shelter and water and Lizzie would be foolish not to recognize that.

She filled four canteens and gazed longingly at the water, wishing for a hot bath. Nothing was better to soothe wary muscles. She imagined sinking down into a luxurious tub of lilac-scented water and letting the warmth seep into her bones. Taking the soreness away. Refreshing her. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for that right now.

The yearning stayed with her as she walked the horses back to a stand of trees near where they’d set up camp. She’d tied each horse in the string to a long rope that she’d looped around two thin trees. Once the horses were secure, she removed her saddle and combed down her mare. It wasn’t so much sweat as it was dust that layered her coat, and Lizzie worked for several minutes getting her to shine clean again. Then she dragged the saddle to the clearing using much of the remaining strength she had left. Her father always joked that the rig was heavier than she was and in truth, he might have been right.

Clearing a small patch with her gloved hands, she patted the ground down. She searched for twigs and leaves, anything that would burn and keep them warm through the night.

Chance returned minutes later with firewood bundled on the back of his horse. “I got lucky. Found some dry wood.” He dismounted quickly and took note of her work. “Horses watered down?”

She nodded and trembled from the cool breezes coming from the north. “They’re satisfied. And I filled our canteens.”

“Good, I’ll start the fire. We’ll make coffee. And maybe heat some beans.”

Yesterday, they’d finished up the biscuits and cheese they’d packed, and all that was left to fill their bellies was strips of dried meat and beans. Those provisions wouldn’t do for a real outfit on a big cattle drive, but without a cookie and chuck wagon, it would have to make do. They’d had to travel light. Luckily, Lizzie didn’t need much to satisfy her appetite. Chance, on the other hand, could be eating more being as large a man as he was, but Lizzie figured he was used to going without. He could make do, with whatever God saw fit to give him.

As the clouds displaced the sun, the air chilled quickly and a shiver rode up and down her body. Everything still ached, only now the cold had set in. Lizzie grabbed her coat and put it on. She was dirty, cold, tired and hungry. From a distance she watched Chance squat down to build a fire using leaves and cow dung. Once the fire sparked to life, he added the dry branches he’d found.

“Come here,” Chance said, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Why?”

“Don’t argue. Just come.”

Lizzie didn’t like him being so bossy and at times, she argued with him, just to let him know she had a point of view, too. But today, Lizzie was too tired to argue. She moved closer just as he gestured to a place directly next to him where he’d arranged a blanket. “Sit. Stay downwind of the smoke and get warm.”

She plopped down on the blanket and decided that if she couldn’t have a hot bath, sitting by a blazing fire was the next best thing. “I didn’t need you to tell me that.”

Chance sighed and sent her a hard look. “Sometimes, I think you’re contrary just to hear yourself talk.”

She closed her eyes and muttered, “I’m not contrary,” but she couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for her defense.

“I was going to pay you a compliment, until you sassed me.”

She snapped her eyes open, wondering what kind of compliment Chance might have for her. To the best of her recollection he hadn’t said a kind word to her in days. Oh, he hadn’t been harsh, but he’d been something short of cordial. Not that she could blame him with the amount of sleep he was getting. He put in a long day’s work as well but darn it, he never looked tired. The only indication that he was on the trail and working day and night at all was the beard that shadowed his handsome face. That stubble looked mighty sinister on him. He reminded her of an outlaw she’d once seen being held in the Red Ridge jail. The man had been sentenced to ten years for robbery and assault and had been taken to prison. Lizzie had stolen a long look at him when the sheriff had transferred him into a prison wagon. “I didn’t sass you.”

“Oh, no?” His brows arched and a skeptical look crossed his features.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, curious as to the compliment. Staring into the fire, she didn’t know why it mattered so much what Chance said or thought about her, but it did. “I—I didn’t mean to. I’m a little tired, is all.”

“Makes you grumpy?”

“I’m not…”

She halted midsentence and peered at Chance. His lips twitched. He had a habit of doing that around her. Like he wanted to burst out laughing, but held back, enjoying the private amusement all too much.

But the fact was, Lizzie was grumpy. And she wouldn’t debate the issue, not if she wanted to hear what kind thing Chance had to say about her. “Just tired, Chance.”

She lifted her chin to meet his gaze. They stared at each other, eyes locked for the span of three heartbeats. Then his gaze dropped lower to her mouth. Lizzie froze, just as she had the other day when he’d given her that very same look. Butterflies invaded her stomach and fluttered around in frenzied turmoil. The unanswered feeling confused her.

Chance opened his mouth to say something and she waited. Patiently. But then his face twisted up and he turned away.

“What were you going to say?” she asked, her curiosity and those swimming flutters making her bold.

“Nothing.”

“You had a compliment for me. What, now you don’t think I deserve it?”

He slid a sideways glance her way and squinted as if in pain. “Hell, Lizzie. You are a handful.”

“I may be wrong, but that doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

He chuckled but refused to look at her.

She laughed, too, the conversation and her fatigue making her giddy.

“All right, you wore me down,” Chance said. “I’ll tell you.”

Her breath whooshed out in a whisper. “What’s the compliment?”

He scrubbed his jaw as if hating to relinquish this bit of information. “You’re working hard. And not giving me any real trouble. I see the toll this drive is taking on you and you haven’t complained once.” He shrugged and while Lizzie should have been overjoyed to hear him commend her for a job well done, her heart sagged just a little. What had she been expecting? She wasn’t quite sure.

“I thought you should know you have my admiration. You’re taking it like a real…cowboy.”

Lizzie hid her disappointment well, kept her shoulders straight and her breath steady. She even managed a smile for Chance that took every ounce of her will to muster. But at that very instant, Lizzie realized what she’d wanted Chance to say.

And it was something more unattainable than a tub filled with steamy lilac water waiting for her just around the next bend.

* * *

Chance peered at the sky overhead and the mounting threat of rain. He’d hoped he’d been right, that a storm wasn’t brewing. But the air had grown unbelievably cold for this time of year and off in the distance, he heard the faintest booming of thunder. They were out on the open range, with no protection or shelter. Only a few scattered trees covered the ground within eyesight and offered no real defense against what Mother Nature might be conjuring up.

He filled his belly with beans and meat as he sat with Lizzie by the fire. She’d eaten a healthy amount, too and for all her bustle and bother, he was gratified that she wasn’t acting like a wilting flower on the trail. He’d meant what he’d said to her a few minutes ago. She had true ranching in her spirit. She knew how to handle herself on the trail. Complaining wouldn’t make anything easier and giving in to your body’s complaints wouldn’t serve any real purpose. Lizzie seemed to understand that, even though she loved sassing him. If that was all he had to contend with during this time with her, well, hell, he wouldn’t kick up a fuss, except to sass her back.

He sipped coffee, warming his hands on the mug and watching the firelight dance over Lizzie’s face and cast her in a pale glow. Her eyes, the brightest kind of blue, reflected in the blaze and each hue of those melding colors struck him like a punch to his gut.

She had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

They were unique and expressive and the longer he stared, the more he wanted to keep on staring. It was the damnedest thing.

“Chance,” she whispered and the yearning in her voice stunned him out of his trance.

Hell, he’d almost told her how pretty her eyes were. He’d almost paid her a compliment that this time wouldn’t disappoint her, because while his last one had been honest, he’d known by her fake smile and bravado that it hadn’t been the kind of compliment she’d wanted to hear.

Lizzie wasn’t someone to dally with.

Edward was counting on him to do right by her, protect her and find her a husband. Not entertain thoughts that would sabotage all three objectives.

Luckily he’d smartened up before igniting a flame that would be hard putting out.

He downed his coffee in one huge gulp and it went a long way to keep him warm. He poured some into Lizzie’s mug and handed it over, ignoring her pretty eyes that continued to stare at him. “Here, have another cup of coffee. It’ll take the chill off.”

“I’m beginning to think nothing will.”

Chance snapped his eyes to hers and wondered what she’d meant by that, truly. He was grateful when she grabbed the cup from his hands, though she refused to look at him. He rose from his seat and put his gloves on, holding his hands above the fire to warm them. Then he grabbed two rain slickers and tossed one to Lizzie. “Put this on. I’ll check on the horses and herd. You should try to get some sleep.”