Love on the Range: A Looking Glass Lake Prequel (8 page)

“Stinks,” he said. “But it works.”

“What’s this for?”

“For your…uh—” Even in the dim light, she could see his face redden. He ducked his head.

“You might have a sore…uh—”

Marlee’s hand went to her backside.

“Tail bone?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah.” He looked away and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s a formula my buddy shared with me back when I was a hot-shot bronc buster.”

His lopsided grin told her he was poking fun at himself. “His grandfather shared it with him, and his father before him.” He winked at her, and she stared at the single dimple in his cheek.

That dimple was like God playing a joke on Himself. Why put a dimple in the cheek of someone who almost never smiled?

“Turns out even the toughest Indian warriors got sore.” He pulled something out of his other pocket.

She heard a click and a small light came on. He handed it to her. The flashlight was bright, even though it fit perfectly in the palm of her hand.

“It’s hard to read in the dark,” he said.

“How do you know I read?”

Again his teeth flashed white in the shadows. “You sure quote a lot of scripture for somebody who doesn’t read.”

A small frisson of pleasure warmed her skin in the cold mountain air. “Thanks.”

He tipped his hat, and then ambled back to the fire.

Marlee stumbled to her tent. Every bone in her body ached, and now, with the cold ratcheting her muscles into spasms, the pain only grew. As she rubbed the strong-smelling salve on sore limbs, she was surprised at the hot tingling that soaked into her muscles.

Stinky or not, the stuff was a miracle.

She crawled into her bedroll, and pulled the warm blanket over her body before reaching for her Bible and her new tiny flashlight.

Jett was strange. Abrupt at times, nearly to the point of rudeness. But he’d been kind. Maybe Crazy Hoss was right about him. Maybe Jett was a man of actions instead of words.

He’d actually listened to her. More than she’d given him credit for.

In the dark, she explored the edge of the blanket. It was some kind of fur skin, with a wool lining sewn on.

In all her wildest dreams of the Wild West, she’d never imagined she’d be sleeping under fur.

Within minutes, her body grew warm and her muscles relaxed. Except for the flat-as-a pancake pillow, she was almost comfortable.

Snuggling deeper, she opened her Bible to where she’d left off last night.

He leads the humble in what is right, and the humble He teaches His way. All the paths of the Lord are mercy and steadfast love, even truth and faithfulness—

A loud wolf howl pierced the night, and Marlee froze.

This was crazy. What was she doing out here in the west, huddled under a bearskin rug with burnt beans in her tummy and wolves prowling just outside?

She set her Bible next to her knife roll and flicked the flashlight off.

One thing was certain: she’d need God’s mercy and steadfast love if she was going to survive this.

And so would the Paycoach family. She squeezed her eyes shut and said a prayer for them.

And for Jett.

Somehow, she must have drowsed off during her prayer. The next thing she knew, the sound of the tent zipper yanked Marlee awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

Fern poked her head in the tent. “Wanna borrow my wind-up alarm clock so you’ll be up in time for breakfast?”

Wow.

Everybody was in her business, trying to tell her how to do things. Just like at home.

Well, tomorrow, she’d prove she could handle herself.

“No, thanks,” Marlee mumbled. She dropped her head back on the flat pillow. “I’m using my cell phone.”

“Suit yourself,” Fern said.

Marlee was too tired to zip the tent flaps when Fern left. Besides, it was nice to see the glow of the coals and hear their muffled pops and to let the low voices of cowboys lull her to sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jett couldn’t sleep. He’d tossed and turned all night, eyes burning and unshed sorrow sitting like a full-grown bull on his chest.

Talking to Marlee about Silas had dissolved something inside. In those few moments, her gentle eyes had soothed raw places in his heart that he couldn’t put words to. But in the dead of night, when the cold crept in, so had the rawness.

Finally, Jett crawled out of bed and stumbled to the mess tent. It was still quiet in camp when he stirred up the coals, and coaxed them back to life.

Normally, the camp cook would be up right about now, starting the coffee boiling and getting breakfast on.

But Marlee had to be plumb wore out. She’d worked hard yesterday. For a city girl. And she’d been a trooper, taking it on the chin when the food was so burnt.

By evening, she’d about proven to him she might toughen up enough to make it through this thing.

No harm in whipping up the biscuits, gravy and bacon himself this morning.

Just this once.

It was what any good trail boss would do, if that’s what it took to help a greenhorn settle in.

Besides, she’d lasted longer yesterday than he’d figured she would.

Chatterbox or not, she’d earned some respect.

And maybe some slack, too. Because he was a softy, and he’d heard her sniffles last night.

She’d tried to hide them, but he’d seen how she’d ducked her head over the dishes. Nobody found washing dishes that interesting, unless they were trying to hide tears.

Then she’d given him such a soft and grateful look when he’d handed her the hot cocoa last night. Those were the kind of looks a cowboy had to be careful of.

But soft looks or not, the truth was still as stark as ever: Marlee Donovan was still a city girl. There was a good chance she’d wimp out on her first full day on the trail. And it was his job to make sure every person on this cattle drive could carry their own weight.

He couldn’t ease up on her just because her velvety brown eyes with their long thick lashes made him feel a little weak in the knees.

Nope. If she wimped out, he’d have to treat her like any other cowhand. He’d have to fire her.

He couldn’t go easy on her. But there was nothing wrong with helping her get a running start since she was so new.

Starting with getting the biscuits on.

Jett was nearly elbow-deep in biscuit dough when Crazy Hoss ducked under the tent flap, rubbing his eyes.

“Coffee on yet?”

Jett handed him a mug and then followed the old-timer to the campfire where Fern hunched near the crackling flames.

Jett set the biscuits on and then squinted at the sky. It was nearly dawn and hungry folks were gathering around the campfire. A couple of cowboys came out of the mess tent.

Jett frowned. Even Ty was up.

But not Marlee.

By the time Jett choked down his flat, dry biscuits, the sun had broken out above the ridge.

Still no Marlee.

He didn’t mind making breakfast, but he’d expected her to be up by now. At least make an effort. It was already time to saddle up, and his camp cook had slept through breakfast.

“Boss,” Crazy Hoss interrupted his thoughts. “You gonna wake up Sleeping Beauty this mornin’?”

Jett grunted.

Fern laughed. “Yeah. With love’s true kiss?”

He glared and pulled his hat brim down so they couldn’t see his eyes. Fern and Crazy Hoss were some of his favorite people.

Even if Crazy Hoss poked his nose into everyone’s business. And even if Fern spread that business all around the county. Crazy Hoss owned the café in town, and Fern was an old cowgirl-turned housewife, turned gossipy beauty salon owner. Neither one of them had been on a cattle drive for over a couple of decades. And they weren’t being paid for this one, either. They’d volunteered when they had heard the Paycoach family was in need.

Yup, they were good people. But even good people got under the skin when they nosed into his business.

Jett strode to Marlee’s tent. If he let her sleep too much longer, his cowhands would think he’d gone soft. He’d find them slacking off. Taking naps when they should be flushing out the cattle that were spread out all over the mountain.

There was no way he was going to let that happen. Especially when the Paycoach family counted on him to hold things together during this time of crisis.

She’d left the flaps open, and the foot of her sleeping bag stuck out of the tent. She must have scootched down sometime in the night. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was half-eaten by skeeters.

He nudged her foot with the toe of his boot.

She stirred, but then a small snore drifted up.

He nudged her again, harder this time.

She groaned, and rolled over on her back.

“Marlee,” he barked, and kicked softly at her foot. Maybe tomorrow, he should hook up an IV and attach Crazy Hoss’s coffee. It was straight caffeine and mud. The smell alone could wake a hibernating bear from ten paces.

“Marlee.”

She squawked and sat up, hair wild and face wilder still.

He laughed. She was cute. Like a disgruntled bear cub.

She hurled a potato at him, and burrowed back under the sleeping bag.

He chuckled. She was feisty. He should have known that when she’d assaulted those veggies yesterday with knives flashing. He’d never seen spinach and peppers surrender so fast.

But feisty or not, Marlee posed a problem. Besides the fact that she’d slept in, a woman who would sleep with potatoes in her tent didn’t know the first thing about securing food in camp.

He’d bet his eyeteeth she didn’t know how to put food up to keep it from bears. Besides, there was the signs of rustlers he’d seen on the way up. He couldn’t leave her in camp alone. She’d be a sitting duck.

Nope. He was going to have to leave Fern and Crazy Hoss in camp with her this entire trip. That meant he’d be down another team of wranglers.

He wrinkled his nose as a strong odor wafted toward him from her tent.

He grinned. She had used his muscle rub.

Maybe he’d let her sleep in a bit longer after all. But only because he didn’t want to follow Fern’s advice to wake her with a kiss. He imagined her lips tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

He pressed his own lips together in a tight line.

Whoa, Jett. Ease up.

He had things to do. He had a family’s entire livelihood resting on his shoulders. Best he get on the trail and take care of business.

Moonin’ around Marlee’s tent just because he wanted to see her pretty face first thing in the morning didn’t do anyone any good. Besides, what would he do, anyway, if she woke up and smiled at him?

Probably stare. Wouldn’t be able to squeeze a single word out.

Yup. He was one smooth cowboy, all right.

If anybody could make a fool out of himself without saying a single word, it was Jett Maddox.

CHAPTER NINE

Marlee stretched and rubbed her eyes. They felt gritty after the dusty ride yesterday.

She was going to have to teach Jett some manners. She did not appreciate his little practical joke. Waking her in the middle of the night. What was that? Some kind of western hazing?

But then she smelled bacon.

Wait. What?

She grabbed her phone, a groan dying on her lips.

Dead.

No. Her phone never died. She’d bought one with an extra-long battery life on purpose, and it had a full charge when she went to sleep last night.

But her heart sunk to her frozen toes as she squirmed around and jerked her boots on. It had to have been the cold that drained her battery so fast.

Wishing she were dead wouldn’t help. But it gave Marlee’s brain something to distract her from the stiffness in her body as she crawled out of her tent and tried to stand.

She stumbled toward the fire where Crazy Hoss and Fern sat with coffee in hand.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Crazy Hoss grinned, his gray whiskers bristling with almost as much cheer as his eyes. He handed her a steaming mug.

Marlee took two gulps of the bitter stuff and squeezed her eyes shut to keep them from falling out. She’d heard tales of cowboy coffee, but had assumed they were exaggerations.

They weren’t.

But she was in desperate need of caffeine. She’d slept deeply, but was so groggy by the time the sun came up, she’d hallucinated throwing a potato at someone.

She couldn’t tell if the grogginess came from the cold fresh air, or if it was a side effect of the ointment Jett had given her last night. Then again, it could be from sleeping on a bag of potatoes. The pillow Jett had left with her bedroll was as flat as a Kansas prairie. She’d had to get up in the middle of the night and look for something to put under it. The only thing she’d found was a bag of potatoes.