Wayward Wind (14 page)

“I want ya to know right off, Parnell, my friend’ll share with me, if he’s of a mind to stick ’round. Me ’n him’s been in
a few tight spots together. He’s saved my bacon more ’n once.”

Cooper shrugged. “We can always use a man good with horses, there’s no two ways about that. What you do with your part is
your business.”

Lorna studied the map and listened. Excitement bubbled in her so strong she could scarcely contain it. Cooper’s ranch was
not as far from Light’s Mountain as she at first believed.
Oh, Glory! It was probably a day’s ride!
She took the sharp stick from Cooper’s hand.

“There’s another way to get across the mountain without going north, Cooper. Volney showed me the way. It’s the way we came
from Light’s Mountain when we brought Bonnie here. We’re here.” She made a scratch in the ground with a stick. “And if we
go south along the creek, then cross over and follow the timber line, it’ll take us past that peak yonder.” She pointed toward
a snow covered mountain peak. “On the other side, there’s a narrow pass that runs along on a shelf that comes out here.” She
had drawn a line that resembled the letter L with the bottom line tilted. “If that’s where your ranch is, it’s not so far
from where I live.”

“How long did it take you to get here?”

“It took a long time when we brought Bonnie here. But after Bonnie was on her feet, I went back home a couple of times to
get some things we needed—”

“That’s rough country. You rode through it by yourself?” Cooper asked sharply and got to his feet to look down at her with
a puzzled frown on his face.

“Of course.” Lorna laughed. “It takes about eight hours of hard riding to get there. I took out before daylight and I was
back by midnight. I’d have made it sooner, but wanted to give Gray Wolf time to rest up.”

“Back by midnight?” Cooper echoed, his expression going from amazement to anger. “There are Indians out there just itching
to take white scalps. And even worse, there are the white and Mexican outlaws that’d just love to get their hands on you.
Do you mean to tell me your pa let you ride off at night?”

She ignored his questions and his anger. He wasn’t ready yet to understand that she roamed where she pleased.

“Nothing can catch me on Gray Wolf,” she said with a shrug. “Going this way will be shorter than going north, Cooper. The
trail’s a little rough in spots, but I can show you the way. When we leave here, we’ll travel together.” There was finality
to her words as if the decision was made, and Cooper frowned, bringing his brows close together and narrowing his eyes.

“I wasn’t figuring on you leaving here by yourself. I was figuring on Griffin staying here with Bonnie while I saw you home,”
he said stiffly, angrily.

She stood slim and proud, her face tilted up to his, smiling at him, still confident that her decision wouldn’t be questioned.
“Griff won’t have to stay with Bonnie. We’ll all go together,” she said matter-of-factly, and looked away from him as if the
subject was closed.

“
I’ll
decide when and how we leave here, Lorna.” His tone told her not to argue, but she did.

“I don’t want to leave Griff and Bonnie here alone. Dunbar could come back here while we’re gone, Cooper. Griff’s in no shape—”

“I said, I’ll decide.”

“I know this country better than you,” she said in a tight, persistent voice.

He stared at her for a long moment, then let his hard-held breath out like a sigh. “I’m not denying that. Your way may be
better, but I’m going to think on it.”

“There’s nothing to think about—”

“Lorna! Don’t crowd me!”

Griffin looked from one set face to the other, pulled his shirt up over his wound and stood up. “Guess I’ll—mosey on in for
a drink of water.”

He walked away and Cooper would have followed, but Lorna took his hand. “Why are you acting like this? Why are you so angry?”

Cooper swore under his breath. “I’ve gone my own way for a long time. I’ll not have you or anyone else telling me to do this
or do that. I do my own deciding.”

“I’m only trying to help. You know I’m right about that pass. How else could we have gotten here?”

“Lorna, I’m not saying your way isn’t a shorter, better way. I’m saying I make my own tracks. I don’t follow after anyone
till I think about it!”

“Not even
me
?”

“Not even you.”

“Oh, so that’s it!” Her voice came out in a throaty rush. “You’re all up in the air because I knew about that pass and you
didn’t. That’s mean and little of you, Cooper, and I’m disappointed in you. You’re just like all the other men I know. You
think that because I’m a woman I don’t know
anything
.”

“I didn’t say that. Now get this straight, Lorna: you may be the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen and the… sweetest, but that
doesn’t give you any reason to be calling the shots—Oh, hell! I’ll water the horses.”

Cooper walked away from her, a guilty flush on his face. What had gotten his back up and caused him to snap at her was the
confident way she had tried to take over and ramrod things. The stricken look in her eyes when he’d failed to fall in whole
hog with her plans had unnerved him. It seemed that part of him resented the spell she’d cast over him and the other part
was wildly happy because of it.

Of course he could simply get on his horse and ride away. That thought brought a dull ache that spread through him until it
occupied every part of his body.

He wasn’t stupid enough to believe he’d fallen in love with her. He was a man like any other. A man had strong hungers that
had nothing to do with being in love. And yet—he thought very carefully about this now—he’d had a strong yearning for her
from the very first, and it was entirely different from the yearning to go to bed with a woman. One dismal truth alone had
significance: he’d come here in search of his mare and met a woman who got into his mind and his blood. But by God, he cursed
softly to himself, she wasn’t taking over his life completely.

It had been five days since Bonnie had given birth to the dead baby. She had bounced back from her ordeal faster than Lorna
had thought possible. She was weak and trembly, but for the last few days her attitude about herself was different. She no
longer cringed or looked down when Cooper spoke to her but answered readily. Her eyes shone and she smiled, even laughed occasionally,
a sound Lorna had heard very few times since she’d known her. Bonnie had always been neat with her person but now she seemed
to take extra care with her hair. She brushed it and pulled it into a bun on the top of her head. Lorna was sure the change
in her had been caused by Griffin.

Cooper acted as if they had never had the argument about the pass, and Lorna wisely refrained from mentioning their departure
from the cabin. Both of them concentrated on getting Griffin and Bonnie strong enough to travel by feeding them well. Cooper
brought in fresh meat and fish and Lorna cooked thick stews. They worked together during the day and in the evenings they
walked beside the creek. Lorna would slip her hand into his and he would hold it tightly. They talked of many things. She
told him about childhood escapades and he told her about the wild horse herds he’d seen in the mountains south of his ranch.

Each night, before going into the cabin to sleep beside Bonnie, Lorna slipped her arms up around his neck and they kissed.
They were sweet, almost chaste kisses, because Cooper kept a tight rein on his passion. Even when Lorna showed her hunger
for him, he gently put her away from him and said good night.

At first Bonnie had been so shy with Griffin she couldn’t look at him, much less talk to him. And then, as they spent long
hours alone together, shyness left both of them, and they began to carry on short conversations that developed into long ones.
Once they started to talk, it was as if they would never say all they wished to say to each other. At times they would be
so engrossed in their conversation they completely ignored Lorna and Cooper. Cooper would catch Lorna’s eye, wink, and they
would head for the door.

One morning Lorna and Bonnie stood in the yard in front of the cabin and watched Griffin and Cooper ride off down the valley.

“Griffin said Cooper thinks this here’s a good place for a ranch—better ’n what Griff picked out up north. He said if’n the
land ain’t took, he ’n Cooper are agoin’ to try ’n buy it.” There was a wistful note in Bonnie’s voice. “This’d make a tight
cabin with some fixin’ up.”

“I don’t want Griff to stay here.” Lorna’s eyes followed the two horsemen until she could no longer see them. “He can’t fight
off Clayhill men by himself. They almost hung him once and as soon as Cooper leaves they’ll be back.”

“Ain’t it somethin’ ’bout that mean ole man bein’ Cooper’s pa?”

“Don’t mention anything about that to Cooper,” Lorna said quickly. “He gets as riled up as a scalded cat everytime that name
is mentioned.”

“I won’t. Lorna, do you reckon I
ain’t
wed to Brice?”

“I’d bet my bottom dollar on it. What kind of a preacher would be in a saloon? He didn’t give you a paper saying you’re wed
to Brice, did he?” Lorna turned to find Bonnie looking down at the hand she clasped over the stump of her arm. “That Brice
is a dirty, low-down hunk of rotten… horse dung, Bonnie. You should know that by now.”

“I know it, Lorna. I knowed it right off. Do ya think I could marry somebody else, ’n it’d be all right?”

“Are you thinking of Griff?”

“No!” Bonnie’s face turned a bright red. “What e’er give ya a thought like that?”

Lorna laughed. “I’m not blind. You like him, don’t you? It shows plain as sin.” Lorna laughed at the startled look that came
over Bonnie’s face.

“It shows?”

“Of course it shows. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s the natural way of things. I knew right off Cooper was my man, and
told him so.”

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing. Men have to think they’re doing the hunting. I backed off, but I’m not running.” She laughed again. “Cooper knows
he’s my mate, but he’s fighting it because he wants to think he’s the one to do the choosing. Men are like that, Bonnie. They
have more pride than horse sense sometimes.” She stepped into the cabin. “I’m going to get those rags of yours and wash them
while they’re gone.”

“No. I’m adoin’ it today. I can’t let you be adoin’ my nasty washin’—”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” she said over her shoulder. “My granny always said keep out of cold water when your time’s on. Besides,
it’s no chore at all. I just take them downstream and poke one end under a rock and let the fast water do the washin’. Later,
I’ll get them out and spread them to dry.”

“But the men’ll see—”

“They won’t see anything. And if they do, it won’t matter. They have to know you use them. I’m not wanting you to get a back-set,
Bonnie. You’ve got to get well enough to travel. Cooper wants to leave here tomorrow or the next day.”

“I’m scared to leave.”

“Cooper won’t let Brice get you.”

“Griff asked me about my folks and about Brice. He said Brice’d not ever hurt me no more. There was somethin’ scary in his
face when he said it, but somethin’… nice, too. Like he thought I was worth somethin’.”

“He’s had trouble aplenty, Bonnie.” A sad expression settled on Lorna’s face, and she clicked her tongue against her teeth
in maternal sympathy. “My, my, my—imagine him being in that prison and him just a boy. He’s had to claw and scratch and kill
to stay alive. But it made a man of him—and I’m thinking he’d be a mighty good man to tie to, too.”

“It’s what I think,” Bonnie said, and again there was the wistfulness in her voice.

“I wonder what Cooper’s mother is like. It’s been so long since I’ve been around a woman—it scares me, Bonnie. What if she
doesn’t like me?”

“Cooper don’t ’pear to be a man who’d let his ma choose for him.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Lorna said thoughtfully. She looked down at the britches and the worn moccasins she wore, and for the first
time in her life wished for a pretty dress.

Sylvia Parnell carried the dishpan of water to the end of the porch to throw it out into the yard and saw three riders coming
up the lane toward the house. She tossed the water, wiped the pan with a cloth, and set it on the bench beside the door.

With shaky fingers she tucked the loose hair blowing about her face into the knot at the back of her neck. The smoothing of
her hair was not due to vanity, but to nervousness. She wished Cooper were there. In the next breath she was thankful he wasn’t.
When he and Adam Clayhill came together she was never sure that either of them would live to see another day.

This was the third time in the two years since she’d confronted him in the street at Junction City that Adam had come to the
ranch and the first time she’d had to face him alone. All these years she’d carried a hatred in her heart for this man who
had seduced her at sixteen and left her to face the disgrace of being unwed and with child. Now she told herself she neither
hated nor feared him, that he was like a patch of thistle, just something there to be endured, but she knew it wasn’t true.

Sylvia stood waiting, a slender, fair-haired woman in a faded blue dress. The breeze behind her billowed her skirt and lifted
strands of hair from the top of her head.

The riders paused at the gate and one of them got down and opened it. The white-haired man on the big, white horse passed
through alone and came toward the house. He pulled his horse to a stop at the hitching rail and got off. He was a big man
with broad shoulders and long arms. His waist had thickened over the years, but he was not unattractive. His white hair was
full and sprang back from a broad forehead. It was carefully trimmed, as was the white mustache beneath his high-arched nose.
He shrugged out of the long duster he wore to protect his black serge suit and threw it over the saddle. He came to the edge
of the porch, took off his felt Stetson, and flicked the dust from the brim.

“Morning, Sylvia. Fine day.”