Mary Connealy (59 page)

Glowing Sun sighed in an almost perfect imitation of him. Did she think he’d been teaching her that as a word?

He looked over at her and smiled. “We’re safe now.”

True, the ground was still fifty feet away, but they
were
safe.

A bit more climbing down and Wade felt Glowing Sun recover her courage. She let go of his hand, which Wade didn’t like, but they made better time and were on the ground in just a few more minutes. When she landed beside him, light on her feet, he laughed. She smiled then threw her arms around his neck and laughed with him.

He lifted her and swung her around. “My very own damsel in distress. I’ve finally saved someone.”

Her head dropped back as he whirled her around. Her wild, blond hair whipped in the fall breeze. A fluttering of crimson leaves rained on them as he lowered her to the ground and grinned down into her sky blue eyes.

Their gaze caught.

Wade’s arms tightened involuntarily.

The smile faded from Glowing Sun’s face, replaced by a fascination with his lips.

Suddenly his whole life made sense. He had a future, and he could see it…with Glowing Sun. They’d start their own ranch. Th ey’d have beautiful little blond daughters as wild and courageous as their mother. He’d be a father and a husband. A strong, courageous man with God fully in his life.

He leaned down to kiss her.

“Not so fast.”

The voice, accompanied by the
crack
of a jacked shotgun jerked Wade’s head around.

E
very time she woke, Belle remembered Silas’s kiss.

It was infuriating the way he’d ordered her around. But his bossiness warmed her heart, too. No man had ever cared enough to take his place at the head of her household. She’d hated it at the same time she felt drawn to that strength.

Belle woke up in the first light of dawn and didn’t know who she was anymore. She was lying with Betsy in her arms, and the little girl was wriggling. That had no doubt awakened her. She looked around and saw Sarah quietly tending the fire. In the distance, Emma was filling the coffeepot with water from the stream. Lindsay was saddling her horse with help from Roy.

Since when did Lindsay need help saddling her horse?

Belle should get up and run that young whelp off, but Betsy swatted her in the face and fussed, and Belle put off rescuing her oldest daughter—who was surely fully capable of rescuing herself—and tended her youngest.

“Mornin’, Ma.” Sarah smiled. “I’m gonna gather more wood.”

Belle nodded and got Betsy into a dry diaper then settled in with the fallen log at her back to get the baby her breakfast. Alone for a few moments, all Belle could think about was what Silas had made her feel.

God, I want more of that. I want his attention and his strength and even his bossiness. I want a man who cares enough to want to run his own family.

As she sat there, her child in her arms, memories of Anthony and Gerald and especially William crowded her thoughts. All the times she pushed them around and they’d just take it.

“They didn’t care.” Belle spoke to her baby, sad for the hard life she’d brought to her child. “They didn’t care one whit if I liked them or respected them or loved them. Your pa was probably the worst of the lot, and that’s saying something after Gerald, but he was a low-down coyote of a man. The only decent thing he ever did in his life was to give me you, beautiful girl.”

And the giving had been dreadful, and it hadn’t happened at all after the first time he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume.

“They weren’t men. To say they were children is an insult to you and my other girls, because they work hard and respect me and love me, and I them.” Belle ran her hand over Betsy’s lustrous curls. No, she couldn’t love Anthony, couldn’t stand the man, but she did adore this pretty baby.

Would Silas make babies as lovely?

Her head filled with images of her cooking for him and jumping to do his bidding, saying, “Yes, Silas,” and, “Whatever you say, Silas.” And letting him lead her away into the dark from any campfire they were ever near.

“I can actually imagine doing that.” Betsy stared at Belle silently. Belle needed to talk to the baby more. Sing to her. Cradle her and rock her. She could do that, at least some, if she was really married to Silas. She yearned for that, and yet that wasn’t who she was. Belle had learned to trust no man to take care of her. She’d learned to please herself, and any man could follow or get out of the way. They’d always been plenty willing.

She thought of the things Silas had said to Sarah yesterday about not marrying, and it occurred to Belle that, for the first time, she might have to do something to bring a man around. She’d never had to consider enticing a man before. She’d spent most of her life trying to discourage them. She had no practice in convincing a man he should propose.

“How does a woman fetch a man to marrying her, Betsy? I’ve never had to do such a thing in my life.” She sat there thinking how to please Silas. Wondering how to dab a loop on this one particular man. She thought of his kisses and the stern way he’d dictated to her, and she wanted him to belong to her.

And he’d told Sarah he wasn’t going to marry her. He’d said it like a man who knew his own mind.

So, did she catch him by being a submissive little wife? Or did she lasso him and toss him over her saddle and drag him to a preacherman?

The sharp cold of the morning made Belle wonder if they could get home before her mountain valley became locked away from the world for the winter. There had been snow already in the heights. She could see the white peaks from where she lay. She thought of her cattle back at her ranch and the ones on this trail and the extra help they now had, and forcing her mind to practical matters, she jiggled a burp out of Betsy and got to her feet to help build up the fire.

If she fussed with her hair a little longer than usual and started to make a couple of apple pies from the dried apples they packed along, well, that didn’t have anything to do with snagging Silas. She just had time for once was all.

She was pulling the last pie out of the fire and had just started mixing hotcakes when Buck rode up in the first full light of morning. “Silas says we’re pulling out. Shorty rode ahead and found good grazing not too far up the trail. We’ll make a short day of it. He says your girls have been pushing too hard and need the rest.”

Belle offered Buck a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. The man dismounted and ground-hitched his horse. He was taking a bite of the warm pie almost before the reins hit the dirt. Buck talked pleasantly of the good condition of the cattle, which warmed Belle’s heart.

He polished off the pie within a couple of minutes. Then he got up reluctantly from the fire and said, “Mighty fine eatin’, ma’am. Mighty fine. Thank you.”

Belle knew an admiring look when she got one, because she’d gotten hundreds of them—thousands of them—in her life. But there was nothing improper in Buck’s glance. It was just a look that said,
I’d marry you in a heartbeat just for this slice of pie if it wasn’t for your husband.

Belle could have corrected him. Yet her silence wasn’t a lie.

I’m sorry, God. I know we’re doing wrong.

He took one last swallow of coffee. “We’ll be on the trail right after we eat. Silas said to tear down the camp.”

“I’ll have a proper breakfast of hotcakes ready in ten minutes then have the camp stowed away in half an hour. And tell the others there’s pie and coffee to go with breakfast.”

Buck laughed and tipped his hat. “It’ll start a stampede, but I’ll tell ’em, Miz Harden.”

Belle fed the hands and had the strange sensation of being left out of the hard work. She didn’t mind. It felt kind of nice to have time to make a meal special and pack up the camp for everyone. But it made her nervous to turn such a huge part of her life over to someone else. Even if the girls were riding along and watching out for the Tanner interests.

They started punching the herd along by midmorning and found the going easy. The sun rose high in the sky, but it didn’t drive away the sharpness of the cold like it would have earlier in the season. There were narrow trails and some spots with bad footing, but those were less frequent than before.

With the three extra hands, Sarah never even forked a horse to tend the herd but just stayed with the packhorses, seeing to Betsy. And the older girls got a long break during the day.

Silas found the water and grazing Shorty had spoken of early. They made good enough time that they could set up a camp and get a meal on with some light left in the sky.

Lindsay came riding in just a few minutes after the others, and she was alongside of Roy. The two of them seemed to be talking and smiling at each other. Belle felt a pang of dread in her stomach to think a boy had caught her little girl’s interest. She had to control the urge to fetch her skillet.

There was plenty of dead wood at hand, and they built a huge, roaring fire to ward off the ever-increasing chill. Shorty had brought a haunch of bighorn sheep back from his scouting, and they broiled mutton steaks over the fire and had fresh-baked bread instead of the usual sourdough biscuits. And they ate the last of Belle’s pie.

Shorty had a fine singing voice, and he started in on one song after another, finally lifting himself off the comfortable softness of the pine boughs they gathered for bedding to stand the first watch.

The days fell into a rhythm after they had cowhands. Although Belle rode out every day, she did little more than take a couple of circuits around the slowly plodding animals and go back up front to the string of pack animals. As the trip stretched out and the responsibility eased more and more from her shoulders, Belle felt herself relax more completely than she had in years. She took pleasure in cooking good meals, with lots of help from the increasingly idle girls. She relished the time she had to cuddle Betsy in her arms. She accepted Silas’s strong arms around her every night and the sweet kisses he insisted were necessary for the sake of the cowhands. That didn’t exactly make sense to her, especially since he often kissed her when none of the men were around. But she trusted him, so if he said a kiss or two was necessary, she went along. Then they went to their separate sides of the camp.

They had a few more days of needle-sharp peaks to scale, but with Buck, Roy, and Shorty helping, they went smoothly. Belle took on the job of scouting the trail. She rode ahead with the camp gear, chose a site, and set up early, without eating a drop of dust.

The twenty-fifth day on the trail, Belle descended a high peak well ahead of the others, with Betsy on her back and Sarah by her side, and saw the raw little town of Helena that had been named the territorial capital just recently. From their high perch, they could see many miles across the lower mountainside and the sweeping valley around the town. But it was close, so they’d be there in two days. One day if they pushed hard.

They’d made it. She’d gotten her herd to market. She’d saved her ranch. Joy caught so hard in Belle’s throat she almost cried, which was too embarrassing to contemplate. Choking back the pride at making this trek successfully, she scouted out a spot to bed down the cattle for what might be their last night on the trail.

She and Sarah pushed past several likely camping sites as she longed to get her cattle as close as possible to trail’s end. They finally found a lush valley so beautiful it awakened a longing in Belle to own it.

“We’ll camp here.” Belle looked at Sarah, and they smiled at each other.

“This is a beautiful place, Ma.” Sarah looked around almost reverently.

A tumbling stream poured out of a fissure in one of the snowcapped mountain peaks that stood like sentinels around the valley. The creek cut across the lowest spot in the valley and spilled down a ledge and out of sight.

“Look up there.” Belle pointed overhead. “A bald eagle.” It screamed as it soared around the cliff sides, catching updrafts and diving for what looked like pure joy.

A herd of bighorn sheep spotted them and leaped up the mountainside so gracefully that they might have been flying. Grass grew belly deep to her horse, and the woods didn’t encroach onto the grass except in a few places, where they formed islands of shade around the babbling creek.

“I’d never part with my ranch. But this is as close as I’ve ever been tempted. I believe that if I’d seen this mountain valley first, I might have picked it for myself.” She rode her horse around until she found a sheltered spot up against the mountain that would cut the icy, north wind and reflect the heat of their fire back to them when the night grew cold. She did the first stages of her setup for camp, started a rising of bread, hobbled her pack animals, and turned them loose. Then she and Sarah started back up the trail, finding Silas.

“I want to push farther tonight.”

“There’s no need, Belle.” Silas had that gruff, bossy tone she was starting to love. “We’ll be in Helena in just a couple of days.” “I found good grass.”

Silas looked at the lowering sun and the ample grass along the trail where they now stood. “Belle …”

She smiled and rode her horse right over to him, thinking of a few times he’d persuaded her to do his bidding with a well-timed kiss. She decided to try that for herself. “Please, Silas. I’ve already set the camp up. It’ll be hard work to go all that way and tear things down.”

She leaned forward, caught the front of his shirt in a fist, and pulled him toward her. He came along so willingly she knew she had him.

By the time she was done kissing him, she’d’ve probably, judging by the stunned look on his face, been able to convince him to drive the herd all the way into Helena without stopping.

God forgive me, I’m wheedling just like a woman.

Belle was half horrified at herself, half elated to know she possessed such a skill. Manipulative, too, as if Silas was saving her work by driving himself into the night.

“We can go farther if it’ll make things easier for you.” Silas had a heavy-lidded look in his eyes and a strange, satisfied smile on his face.