Plots and Pans (25 page)

Just before Ed walked over, Tucker had sent one of the men to the barn to bring back an ax. He was thinking about how much he hated handling horns this way when Ed’s laughter made him stop short. For some reason, the sound struck him as ominous.

“What’s got you so tickled?”

“That you think Jessie’s stubborn streak only goes back seven years!” Ed dissolved into fresh guffaws for a minute before he could speak again. “When I tried to sit on my ma’s lap while Jess was getting ready to be born, that unborn baby would kick me from the other side! I’m telling you, Tucker, that girl was headstrong before birth.”

“Headstrong since before birth?” Tucker grumbled. “You’d think by now she’d be ready for a change.”

“She’s been ready for a change since the day my father took her to England. Jessie made that change for herself by coming home. Sometimes a switch in scenery can settle your soul. It’s why I had to go to Victoria.” Ed shoved his hands deep in his pockets and jerked his chin to indicate the scrawny cattle. “I know you think it was a mistake on the business end, and I’d agree with you if I were calculating in time and dollars spent.”

“Well, talking him down further for the missing calf count helped sweeten the deal.” Tucker made a real effort to sound positive.

Now wasn’t the time to tell his partner that he wouldn’t have taken the trip, that the problem steers would probably cause stampedes during the main cattle drive, or that a hefty portion of the herd was already devalued from the damage done to their mouths from foraging after such a dry winter. Though they’d taken aside any cattle too far gone or who threatened to spread sickness, several of the remaining animals bore healing wounds. Even if they didn’t abscess, these cattle would be slow to gain the weight they needed.

Now’s not the time for that type of talk
. Airing his opinion wouldn’t fix the cattle or undo the decisions made. On the other hand, this was his first and last chance to remind Ed of the way they got things done and how they worked best—together, as a unit. They’d need the strength of that partnership to circumvent Jessalyn’s penchant for causing problems.

“I dropped in on the Mullinses’ on the way out here. Roundup will reach the Bar None land sometime tomorrow. So we barely made it in time.”

“Tomorrow?” Tucker blew out a breath. “Cut it mighty close.”

Ed looked over at the pen of cattle destined for the butcher and the corners of his mouth tightened. “Worse, this herd wasn’t worth it, but I needed the challenge. I needed to go where everything I saw and every decision I made didn’t echo with Pa’s opinions. The distraction did me good.
Change
did me good.”

“You make it sound like you’re thinking of making other types of changes.” Tucker watched one of his men swing the ax at an old bull’s horns and winced. “I know your sister is.”

It seemed like a God-given reminder that the traits He gave any living thing gained strength with age. Like any other hard-to-handle problem that had to be grabbed by the horns, Jessalyn was sure to put up a furious fight.

Ed’s response didn’t ease his concerns at all. “Jessie wants to get involved in the Bar None, like she always should have been.”

“Involved like she always should have?” he repeated in disbelief. “Ed, I know you’re glad to have her home and that she’s gonna be a handful, but no matter how unique your sister might be, she’s still a
woman
.”

“Glad you noticed.” Ed snorted. “Heard you had some trouble with that when she first showed up.”

“That’s what you talked about, the first time you see your sister in how many years?” Tucker shook his head, but he should have known. “Hair under a hat pulled low, bandanna over her face, gloves on her hands, slicker over her clothes, riding astride in a driving downpour … you wouldn’t have figured it out either.”

“Keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.” Ed snickered, and suddenly Tucker decided he didn’t need to make such an effort to sound positive about his partner’s poor decisions.

“You had trouble when she’s your
sister
. Wearing a
dress
, standing on
your
front porch in
sunlight
,” he shot back. “You’re right. That
does
make me feel better.”

“No need to get your dander up.” Ed held up his hands in a hold-your-horses motion. “I didn’t tease you in front of the men.”

A fulminating glare was the only response needed for that asinine statement, and the only one Tucker trusted himself to provide without saying something he might regret.

Lord, I know Your timing is perfect, but I can’t help thinking I could’ve really used a trip to church this morning. Worship has a way of working the worries out of my mind and putting the focus back where it belongs. Now that Ed’s back, my focus doesn’t belong on keeping Jessalyn out of trouble. He’s certainly a grown man capable of looking after his own family. But I’m struggling with the idea Ed might not choose to look after her the way he needs to
.

Ed looked chagrined. “C’mon. You know I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Never mind that. What else did the two of you discuss?”

“Not a whole heck of a lot yet. General stuff. Memories.” He paused and looked away, voice dipping low. “Desta.”

Tucker gave him a short nod, acknowledging the difficulties of that surprise scenario. Truth be told, he was grateful Ed would be escorting and introducing the “new” Culpepper women to church. Desta deserved every drop of Culpepper support.

“Even if she’d only been gone months instead of years, there’d still be too much to tackle all at once. We did touch on the terms of the will.” Ed crossed his arms and quirked a brow in what Tucker knew was a challenge. “She already knew Pa made you part owner?”

Obviously Ed felt that a topic so personal and complex should have been put on hold until his return. If it had been any other woman in the world, Tucker probably would have agreed.

“We already touched on the topic of how headstrong your sister is.” He chose his words with caution. “Jess disliked some of the ranch rules. Desta stepped into the conversation when Jess argued that my position as mere foreman did not grant sufficient authority for me to insist that she follow safety protocols and adhere to conventional proprieties.”

Ed’s jaw tensed as he took that in. “She was right.”

“No, she wasn’t. And neither are you if you think it’s acceptable for a female who hasn’t stepped foot on a ranch in seven years to buck basic common sense.” Tucker fought to keep his voice a low growl, unwilling to start shouting and let the men hear him.

“She can’t disappear to some far-flung corner on the ranch without a word, riding astride, skirts flying around her knees, to try her hand mending barbed wire, climbing windmills, and whatever else strikes her fancy. Jessalyn can’t be allowed to go maverick. The Culpepper name doesn’t entitle her to disrupt the entire outfit or risk her neck. Not on my watch.”

“Lucky for you, I’m back. You don’t have to watch out for her, watch over her, or send Ralph to keep watch for you.” Ed’s face flushed with anger, a rare sight. “She’s my responsibility now.”

“Good. Make sure you live up to it.” Tucker decided he’d had enough of the conversation. His men had things well in hand, and Ed could supervise them for the rest of the day as they took his headstrong herd to bed ground.

I’ve had it, Lord. I’m not handling one more issue caused by one of Ed’s stubborn creatures. Whether it stands on four legs or two, my partner can shoulder responsibility for whatever he allows to run wild on the ranch. After roundup, I won’t be here to see it. Life on the trail is tough, but driving a couple thousand cattle up a trail is still a lot less complicated than trying to corral women!

W
e’re just going to run over there,” Jess assured her aunt, though judging by the look Desta sent her way, she didn’t believe her for a minute.

If it came down to it, Jess wasn’t entirely sure she believed herself. The real reason she felt reasonably honest promising her aunt it would be a quick trip was because she didn’t think the men would allow it otherwise.

Especially since they weren’t actually allowing it at all.

Tucker’s exact words when Jess mentioned wanting to join the roundup included, “Over my dead body.” And even though Ed shot his foreman a warning glare, her brother took his side. Ed kindly explained that she’d be a distraction and, since she really wasn’t in possession of the skills to be of assistance, it would be best for everyone if she kept near the house.

Since she couldn’t join the roundup, Jess decided to visit. And this time she didn’t make the mistake of forewarning the men. Perhaps she wouldn’t be much use on this final leg of the cities-wide, days-long process of rounding up every head of beef in the county, branding it appropriately, and herding the confused cattle to their home ranches after a long winter and, hopefully, calf-plentiful spring season. Jess never did like the smell or sounds of branding and never developed a taste for the bounty of “calf fries” wrought by castration. What she’d loved was feeling part of the process, riding alongside her father with a length of rope and a deep-seated resolve to help.

But a woman didn’t have to recapture her skill at roping to be welcome at a roundup if she had access to the larder. It was the one consistent, unspoken rule a woman could rely on: Food magically made unwanted women welcome by most men, and tolerated by the rest. For how long depended on how good the food was and how much of it she brought.

So Jess had cajoled Desta into loading up the buckboard. She’d even packed up contingency rations, in case things went well. Jess would jump on the chance to join them around the campfire, and if that meant bringing enough dry goods and supplies to set up a fresh doughnut-making station, then by heaven she’d drag half the kitchen along to accomplish it.

She surveyed the heaping wagon with the first slight pang of doubt. There were times when a lone figure on a horse stood a much better chance of going undetected, and this was one of them.
If Ed or Tucker catch me on the way out, they’ll know what I’m up to before I can say a word
.

“What about running back?” Desta surveyed the filled-to-the-gills buckboard and huffed. “Not that I think you’re running anywhere with all this to slow you down.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Jess looked from the wagon to Desta and back again. Then glanced toward the stables, where Morning Glory waited. Maybe she could still have the single rider sneakiness, coupled with the welcome-wagon advantage!

“What would you say if I rode on ahead so they’ll be ready for us when you drive the wagon in?”

“I’d say you’ve got a mite more space you could fill before rolling out.” Her aunt didn’t sound enthusiastic about the idea, but at least she was trying to make the most of their plan.

“Oh?” Jess looked again at the overflowing wagon and wondered if her aunt meant she could stash something extra on the seat, since Jess would be in the saddle. “Where?”

“By the sound of that plan you just tried ropin’ me into, you could pack a fair bit in the space ‘twix yore ears, for starters.” Desta smacked the side of the wagon. “I don’ know how to drive this thing! Even if I did, you got to know I wouldn’t let you ride out there on yore own. You’d work yoreself into some kinda trouble, and we both know it even if ‘n I’m the only one honest enough to say it.”

Sensing that her plan was in jeopardy, Jess gave her aunt a big smile. “Good thing I’ve got you to keep me out of trouble then. I didn’t know you couldn’t drive a wagon. If you’d like, I could teach you sometime.”

“Better if ‘n I don’t know. That way no one can ask me to do it.” Her aunt wagged a finger at her. “And don’t think I don’t know when you use charm to smooth things over, ‘cuz I shorely do.”

“Yes’m.” She tried to look appropriately penitent, knew she failed, and went back to grinning.

“‘Smatter of fact, we ain’t goin’ that way at all until after you change. Me goin’ with you helps make it more proper, but you got to be wearing a skirt like any other lady would wear.”

“I’m not any other lady.”

“I know. Yore still wearing proper skirts, though. It’s the first time you’ll meet anyone beyond the Bar None, and I won’t send them out tellin’ tales any more shocking than I can help.” Desta shaded her eyes with her hand and made a show of looking up at the sun’s progress across the sky. “Waste much more time, no use going a’tal.”

At that, Jess scrambled back inside to swap her split skirts for something more suitable. Since she’d failed in her attempt to ride out, the skirts wouldn’t make a difference. She climbed back in the wagon within minutes, eager to set out.

“Before we go, why don’t you go on ‘head and thank the Lord for this fine day and ask His blessing on our mission. Roundup’s all but done. Next thing ya know, Tucker’ll be taking the herd up the trail. Good time to pray for it all to go smooth.”

“Again?” Jess failed to keep the astonishment from her voice, but it seemed like everyone on the ranch made praying an all-day-long priority. “Ed and Tucker prayed before they took the men out this morning. And we prayed about it before breakfast.”

“And they’ll have prayed once all the workers arrived, just before they sent men out along the grid.” Desta nodded. “The more prayers, the more places, from the more people, the more chances for God to pour out His grace on the enterprise.”

Jess rubbed the reins between her gloved fingertips, chafing at the need to pay lip service to Desta’s convictions. She didn’t want to hurt her aunt’s feelings—or get into a conversation about the relative merits of constantly calling on a supposedly all-knowing deity who, as far as Jess knew, wasn’t hard of hearing.

So she closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and … couldn’t get the words out.
If I can tell when someone doesn’t want to be talking to me, surely God can do the same?