Much Ado About Mavericks (27 page)

She saddled her strawberry roan--a hard worker with lots of heart--while Ben saddled the paint he’d trained.  The big bay needed a rest after the six-hour trip from the ranch. 

“You watch them strays,
Boston
.  I ain’t sure they’ll be smart enough to stay out of trouble.  ‘Specially Henry.  She ain’t been around long enough to have any sense.”

“Don’t worry, Jake, they’ll be fine,” he said as he slipped the bit into the sorrel gelding’s mouth.  “Where are we headed?”

“The nooks and crannies leading to Blunt Rock.  We’re bound to find a bunch of cattle wandering around there--I just want to know how many and where.”

“All right.”  He studied the mountain.  “Think we can ride all the way there and back before dark?”

She told four of the cowhands to ride north and the other two to ride with her and Ben on the south side.

As they split up, Jake called out, “No dawdling now.  I want you all back at camp by sundown.”

*   *   *   *   *

Fred was late.  Ezra cursed his luck.  He wanted the remuda scattered before Ben and Jake got back, and it was doubtful Rastin could do it alone.  Hell, midnight might work better, anyway.  He chuckled at the misery they’d be in, chasing horses all night.  And, knowing Jake, they’d be at work at sunup. 

“Mr. Lawrence,” Fred called as he rode up.  “I got news.”

“It’s about damned time.  So far, you haven’t done too good.  Ben’s out there having a high time.  You were supposed to have run him off by now.”

Fred dismounted and smirked.  “Oh, you’re gonna like this.  He’s got hisself a fancy
Boston
woman out here what wants to marry him.  He put her off, but she wanted her brother to bring a preacher to the Bar EL last night.  ‘Course, there wasn’t one to be had.”

Ezra frowned.  The last thing he wanted is some snobby woman to get her claws into his ranch.  “She likes country life, huh?”

“Hell, no.  And you wanna hear something funny?”  He didn’t wait for Ezra to answer.  “Old
Wilson
at the Silver Sage took her for a French whore!”  He guffawed as he helped himself to a cup of coffee.  “Gave her Tessie’s dress to wear to the dance.  Whoo-wee!  You should have seen the milkers on that woman.  Damn near fell out of that whore’s git-up.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Ben told her and her brother to go back to
Boston
.  They was s’posed to leave this morning.”

Ezra contemplated for a moment, then decided to give Fred his orders.  “Midnight, scatter the remuda.  I don’t want to see a horse within ten miles of the camp.” 

“How’s two men supposed to do that?  There must be a couple of hundred head.”

He glared at the cocky cowhand whose muscle far exceeded his brains.  “Do it right.”

*   *   *   *   *

On the way back to camp from Blunt Rock, Ben rode between Henry and Teddy behind Jake and Homer.  The boy was sagging, and Ben watched him carefully in case he fell asleep.

“My butt’s ready to not be in the saddle no more,” Teddy complained. 

“We’re just about there,” Ben said.  “Then you can eat supper and go to sleep.”  Perusing the five-year-old, Ben thought he was everything but asleep already.

“I ain’t sleepy,” the boy protested.  Ben chuckled, remembering his own aversion to going to bed when he was a child.

“Are you gonna marry Ben?” Henry asked Jake.  “ ‘Cause I want him for myself.”

“Hell, no.  I’d have to get in line.”

Ben rode beside Jake.  “Don’t I have a say in this?”

She shook her head.  “It don’t look like it.”

Ben wished he could tell her the truth of the matter--but not here in front of a crowd.  Jake would never be in line behind anyone.  He loved her.  No matter where he went or
how things turned out
, Jake would always have a place in his heart.

They rode into camp, Teddy snoozing and
tottering
in his saddle.  Ben gently lifted him down and laid him in the bedroll that Jake spread out.  Henry didn’t fare much better, eyelids drooping and nearly falling off her horse when she dismounted. 

Homer, however, was full of vinegar.  “Can I help Crip brush the horses?”

Ben wasn’t surprised--Homer had chattered about his ride in the tournament, critiquing both Ben’s and Jake’s rides, and vowing that he’d become the best bronc buster in Idaho Territory when he grew up.  He’d explained that Ben and Jake would be too old to ride by then.  Ben chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm, remembering his own ambition to become the best lawyer in
Boston
.

And he had, although if Patience had her way, he’d never have anything to show for it.  He kicked the rocks out from under his bedroll, knowing very well one would find the middle of his back before the night was over.

When he finished, he joined the rest for a gourmet meal of beans and sourdough biscuits.

“Might as well get used to it,” Jake said.  “You’ll be eating beans for a month.”

Sleeping on rocks and eating beans.  Ben wondered why the hell he’d gone this far.  Yes, he’d earned the respect of the locals, but he could have taken care of the will and provided for the futures of his mother and sister in a week.  Probably less, as poorly as the document had been written.

Jake tossed him another biscuit and smiled.  She was why he stayed--he couldn’t fool himself about that.  He wanted to loosen her hair and bury his face in it.  And a whole lot more.

After supper, Jake stood and stretched--every magnificent inch of her.  “It’s gonna be an early day.  Best bed down--all of you.”  Most of the men were too tired to protest, and in a few minutes all were resting in the bedrolls.  The two little ones already slept soundly.

Ben thought they’d have a little more convincing to do with Homer, who jumped around like a mosquito.  “But Jake, I gots four more horses to brush.  Crip told me I could be his ‘sistant.”  He wrinkled his brow and cocked his head.  “That’s good, ain’t it?”

“Yup,” Jake said, crossing her arms over her breast.  “You can start tomorrow.  Now, hit the sack.”

How to get Jake alone with sixty people around, Ben didn’t know.  But he was damned well going to try.  When Jake spread her own bedroll, he whispered to her, “Jake, I need to talk to you.”

She stepped over her blankets, Teddy, and Henry to get to him.  “Quiet!  You wanna wake the whole damned bunch?  We got work to do in the morning.”

Ben pulled her several feet away to a huge old sagebrush that would shield them from prying eyes.  “Jake, I have to tell you something I’ve been aching to say all day.”

That said, his mouth went dry.  He’d argued cases in the highest court, but his silver tongue had deserted him.

“Well, talk then.” 

The moon’s glow reflected off her face.  Ben pulled her close and found her lips with his.  Oh, so sweet, he had to have more.  She leaned into him as he ran his hands over her back and sides, deepening the kiss, probing with his tongue--not silver, just a man’s.

“Jake,” he breathed into her mouth.  Then she tasted his mouth with her tongue and he was lost in need of her, only her.  She pressed against his erection and he’d never felt stronger.  He laid her on the ground and kissed her again, this time flicking his thumb over the nipple hidden by her shirt.

She trembled and grabbed him, pulling him down on her.  Then she stiffened and rolled out from under him.  “So that’s all you wanted to say?”

Ben caught his breath, his erection pressing hard against his britches.  “No, I also wanted to tell you that you will
always
be first in line.  Always.”

“Hogwash.”  She stood and dusted herself off.  “I’m going to bed.”

At least she hadn’t walloped him this time.

*   *   *   *   *

It was a helluva thing, dreaming about Jake’s soft breasts while sharp little rocks found new places to poke.  He rolled onto his side, and another rock, or maybe a stick, poked him in the shoulder.  Still, he’d sleep on rocks the rest of his life if only Jake would believe how he felt about her.

He turned on his stomach, but his own anatomy made that uncomfortable, so he rolled on his back and was stuck in yet another place.  But then again, maybe not.  Or maybe he could persuade her to bring a feather mattress next time.

Picturing that feather mattress with Jake by his side got him all stirred up again and he forgot all about the rocks.  Every time he closed his eyes, he imagined her naked, those gloriously long legs wrapped around his waist.

“The horses!” someone shouted.  Ben sat straight up, full awake.  Jake was already pulling her boots on.  He would, too, if he could bend over without breaking something.

She buckled her Colts around her hips and yelled, “Every man, grab the first horse you can.”   She kicked Fred’s sleeping body and barked, “Get the hell out of bed.”

Running across the camp, Ben had all he could do to keep up with her.  She whistled, nearly deafening him.  Blue trotted to her.  Grabbing his mane, she leapt onto his back and kicked him into a gallop. 

In no time, she’d herded a dozen or more horses back to the remuda.  “Here you are, boys.”

Ben swung up on the first one that came by, a strong sorrel gelding, and galloped out to find more.  The other men did the same.  They fought the darkness, and Ben wondered how the hell many bushes shaped like horses there were.   Hearing thundering hooves, he peered into the darkness and spied several animals galloping along side about a hundred yards away.

He hunkered over the sorrel’s mane and kicked him into a run and caught up with Jake.  “We can turn them and corner them in that gully over there,” he said, pointing. 

She nodded once.  “You turn ‘em--I’ll rope a couple.  That’ll keep them there till you can bring the other hands.”

It worked.  Ben would never know how she kept a hundred horses in one spot for the ten minutes it took him to fetch Crip, Slim, and a few other cowhands.  Within an hour, with the horses some of the other men had caught, over two hundred head had been accounted for.

Jake, sweaty and dirt-streaked, slid off her roan and patted him on the rump.  “I’m calling it a night.  We’ll send a few boys out after the rest of ‘em tomorrow.  Crip, you and Slim keep a better eye on these animals.  Something spooked ‘em.  They ain’t used to the remuda yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Fred, the next time there’s a problem, get your lazy ass out of bed.  I ain’t no babysitter.”

He threw her a vitriolic glare.  “Yes, sir.”

She raised her voice.  “Now all of you, get to bed.  We’ll be riding out with the sun, and we got hard days ahead.”

She turned to Ben.  “Good work,
Boston
.”

His chest hadn’t puffed out nearly as much when a Supreme Court judge had complimented him.

*   *   *   *   *

Jake woke with the rays of dawn and the smell of fresh-boiled coffee.  She loved mornings.  Breathing in the crisp air, she shook out her hair and brushed it.  Some of the men were stirring, but the strays were sound asleep, Teddy softly snoring.

She glanced over to Ben and realized he’d been watching her.  He licked his lips and sat up.  “You have very beautiful hair.”

Looking around to make sure nobody noticed his compliment, she said, “It’s red.  I hated it when I was a sprout.  Got teased all the damned time--till I put a stop to it.”

“They were stupid.”  He pulled on his boots.  “So, what’s the strategy?”

Not having the slightest idea what he meant, she braided her hair while she tried to figure it out.  Finally, she said, “I ain’t got a strategy.”

He chuckled.  “Oh, you have one, all right.  It’s the plan . . . what’s your plan?”

“Oh.”  She hated feeling stupid.  While she could rope and shoot and brand, Ben outpaced her when it came to book learning and they both knew it.  Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she said, “You’ll be in charge of lighting the branding fires and heating the irons.  I’ll send the boys out to gather cattle.  We’ll start from the north--that’ll take a week or so, then west, then the south.  Once we herd a bunch of them in at sundown, then tomorrow you’ll be roping the calves for branding and castrating.”

She saw him wince.  “You don’t have to castrate right off.”

“I’ll do what I need to do.”

“And then we’ll have
Rocky
Mountain
oysters for dinner.”  She smacked her lips.  “Mmm, mmm!”

He groaned and she laughed.  “You’ll get used to it.  Meantime, Whip’ll tell you what you need to know, and I’ll leave a few hands here to help.”

After she assigned the sixty cowhands their areas to cover and ate a breakfast of oatmeal and molasses, Jake mounted her strawberry roan gelding.  The boys, mounted and ready, waited for her.  Henry stared at her with her lower lip stuck out.  “You ain’t letting Ben go?”

“Not today, now mount up, cowhand.”

“I want Ben to go.”

“He’s got other work to do.”  She collected her reins and resisted the urge to take one more look at him.  “Now if you wanna be a good cowhand, you got to mind your foreman, which is what he’s doing.  And in case you forgot, the foreman is me.”