Wayward Wind (27 page)

Oscar Parnell had taught him that a man was never free from danger, and Cooper had grown accustomed to watchfulness. It was
something that had ingrained itself deeply. It didn’t show, but it was there in all his actions, and he was alert as he drew
near the camp.

Bonnie was feeding small twigs into a fire. She got to her feet and backed away, her eyes wide and apprehensive, and silently
watched him approach. She reminded Cooper of a cowed little pup that expected to be kicked, and fury at the man who had mistreated
her knifed through him.

Griffin climbed down out of the boulders, the rifle in his hand. He came to where Bonnie stood and leaned weakly against a
small sapling.

“Ya done good, Bonnie. Ya was cool ’n natural like.” Then he said to Cooper, “We wasn’t sure it was ya. Yore a mite early.”

“I got an early start.” Cooper got off his horse and slipped the bit from its mouth, but let the bridle hang around its neck.
Gratefully, Roscoe began to clip the short grass. “Everything all right here?” His eyes took in the fresh blood stain on Griffin’s
shirt.

“Fine. I got a mite rambunctious climbin’ them rocks.” He grinned apologetically.

Cooper saw the alarm in the woman’s eyes when she looked at Griffin. She quickly delved into a pack and brought out a clean
cloth which she folded into a pad, slipped it inside his shirt and pressed it against the wound. Griffin’s eyes clung to her
face and hers to his, as if they were the only people in all this vast land.

Lordy, Cooper thought, watching the intimate touch of their hands. Something had happened between them while he was gone.
They had taken to each other like a duck to a pond. They were in love! He wondered how that would work out. Old Clayhill would
do his level best to hang Griff, and that Brice fellow would be after Bonnie. Poor kids, he thought. And they were not much
more than kids. It would not be easy. They had nothing and nobody but themselves. Hell! he thought with a spurt of satisfaction.
They would have each other, and friends pulling for them. It was more than some folks had. They’d get by.

“I’ll have a snort of coffee, then we’ll make tracks for the ranch before we get caught in these mountains and have to fight
our way out.” Cooper spoke almost gruffly and settled down on his haunches beside the fire, his hands curled around the cup,
uncaring that his companions looked at him strangely and exchanged puzzled glances as they began to break camp.

In the middle of the afternoon Cooper began to see familiar landmarks and knew the distance to his home was narrowing down
considerably faster than he had expected. He rode through a sunlit afternoon, sitting lazily in the saddle, his right hand
resting on his thigh, his keen eyes studying the terrain ahead. They had stopped only one time since early morning. Bonnie
was tired, but she hadn’t let out so much as a murmur of complaint. Griff had padded his saddle with blankets, and Cooper
had lifted her up to ride in front of him. The mare was too skittish for either of them to ride in their weakened condition,
but Firebird was a strong horse, and seemed not to mind the extra weight.

Off and on all day, Cooper had heard the low murmur of voices behind him and would have been surprised to know that their
talk was mostly of him and Lorna.

“He’s tore up ’bout somethin’, Griff. I hope it ain’t that Brice give him trouble.”

“If’n he did, my guess is he could handle it. He ain’t a man to be fooled with, ’n if’n somethin’s started he’d see the end
of it. It’s my bet he’s up in the air over somethin’ Lorna done.”

“Lorna ain’t no rattle-head—”

“She’s used to thin’s agoin’ ’er way.”

“There ain’t ever been no one to tell her different. Lorna ain’t scared a nothin’.”

“Ever’body’s scared a somethin’.”

“What’re you scared of, Griff?”

He chuckled. “Ya put my back to the wall, didn’t ya, girl?” He was silent for a moment, then he said, “Wal, I guess I allus
feared I’d be old ’n sick ’n die by myself with nobody knowin’ or carin’.”

“Oh, Griff!” Bonnie turned to look at him. “I been scared a that, too.”

“Ya don’t need to be scared a that no more, girl. I’d care. Fact is, I’d wanna die too.”

Tears spurted in Bonnie’s eyes. “I ain’t never had nobody but Lorna to… like me. Maybe my ma did when I was little. Pa always
shamed her ’cause a my arm. Then when I got bigger she didn’t seem to like me no more, leastways she’d a not let Pa sell me
off to Brice like she done.”

“Ya got to fergit about that, honey girl. Ya got me, now. I aim to take care of ya from here on. Ain’t nobody agoin’ to hurt
ya, less’n they go through me first.”

“’N ya got me, Griff. Ya ain’t never agoin’ to be by yoreself when yo’re sick. ’N when yo’re old I’m ahopin’ I’ll be with
ya—”

“Now don’t we make us a pair?” he whispered huskily, and there was wonderment in his voice.

“We shore do.” Bonnie leaned her head back against his good shoulder. “Oh, Griff, I wish Lorna could be happy like me. I’m
just scared thin’s didn’t work out for her ’n Cooper like she was ahopin’ they would.”

“I was athinkin’ that he was smitten by ’er the way he looked at ’er when she wasn’t lookin’.”

“She liked him. She told me she did. She wanted him to come back ’n settle on Light’s Mountain, but I’m athinkin’ he’d not
want to.”

“He ain’t goin’ to be pushed to do anythin’ he don’t want to do, that’s shore.”

“I wish she’d a come with us. There ain’t nothin’ on Light’s Mountain for her to choose from. If’n she stays there her pa
might make her marry up with one a them no-goods like Hollis or Billy. ’N I’m ’fraid Brice’ll hurt her ’cause she helped me
be shed of him. She don’t know how mean he kin be when he’s riled.”

“If’n he does, I’ll kill him. I aim to, anyhow, fer what he done to you.”

“Oh, Griff, no! I don’t want you tanglin’ with him. He’d not fight fair, ’n he’s got Hollis ’n Billy—”

“I ain’t got it in mind to fight
fair.
When a snake needs killin’, ya kill it. Ya don’t stand there ’n give it a chance at ya.”

Griff shifted to ease the ache of sitting on the horse’s rump and Bonnie turned to look at him. The expression on his face
was one she’d not seen before. His cheeks were drawn in, his eyes narrowed, his face frozen into immobility. He had withdrawn
into himself and seemed to be a million miles away from her. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she felt a chill of
apprehension. With a frantic eagerness to ease the tension, she began to chatter.

“I’m awonderin’ how far now to Cooper’s place. Yo’re tired, ain’t ya, Griff? Yo’re just frazzled to the bone, ain’t ya? Is
yore shoulder ahurtin’ ya again? When we get there, I’ll smear it good with lamp black.” Her young face showed her concern
for him.

His face relaxed and he grinned at her. “It ain’t bad. The pine resin ya put on this mornin’ stopped the bleedin’. How’re
ya doin’?”

“All right now we’re on even ground. It was scary acomin’ down that steep place back yonder. I almost pulled all the inane
outta this poor horse aholdin’ on,” she admitted with a breathless laugh. “Griffin—” She turned back facing the trail so he
wouldn’t see the worry that clouded her eyes.

“What if Cooper’s ma don’t like me? What if she can’t stand to… look at my arm? I was in a store once ’n a lady come in ’n
saw it. She screeched.”

“There ain’t no chance a that happenin’. Ain’t no chance a’tall. Cooper wouldn’t a had ya come if’n he’d thought there was.
But don’t ya worry none. I’m atakin’ ya with me when I go back to the Blue. But first we’ll find us a marryin’ man, like I
told ya last night.”

“Griffin! ’Bout marryin’—I don’t ’mount to much—”

“Hush up that talk! Ya ’mount to aplenty. Yo’re my woman, ’n my woman’s the best there is.”

“Ya might not think so, later on.”

“When?” he breathed in her ear. “When ain’t I goin’ to be thinkin’ that yo’re the sweetest, lovin’est, prettiest woman I ever
did see?”

There was a burning ache in Bonnie’s throat. She was like someone feeling her way along a dark, narrow path.

“I reckon when it’s too late for ya to back out.” She was compelled to look back at him. He was grinning. His eyes were smiling,
too. He looked young, boyish. Even his beard was soft and fuzzy. It struck her how young he was and how hard his life had
been up to now.

“Ya mean when we’re sittin’ on the porch hollerin’ at our grandkids to come help us to bed? Even then I’ll be athinkin’ yo’re
grand ’n wantin’ to hurry ’n get ya under the covers.”

She turned back and closed her eyes tightly. She could still see his face. His lips nuzzled her ear, and she fervently wished
her galloping heart would behave so she could think of something to say. When his arms tightened around her and she felt the
touch of his lips on her cheek, she giggled helplessly despite her tiredness.

“Oh, Griff! Stop that! Cooper might see.”

They were bone weary.

The evening sun had set when Cooper got down to open the gate that enclosed the ranch buildings. He had ridden for the last
hour with his mind empty, his ears hearing only the hoof falls of his horse, those behind him, and the creak of saddle leather.
Roscoe knew he was home and fidgeted anxiously. Firebird could smell the mares in heat, and Griffin issued stern commands
to keep him at a smooth walk. Cooper could see the flutter of his mother’s blue dress as she waited on the porch.

It was good to be home.

Sylvia stepped off the porch when Cooper rolled from the saddle. Her eyes were only for her son, although she had glanced
briefly at the two riding double on the flashy big sorrel with the light mane and tail.

“Howdy, Ma.”

“Hello, son. You look all tuckered out. Did you have a hard trip?” She reached up and kissed his cheek.

“You might say that. How are things here?”

“Things are fine. After you’ve washed and had a decent supper I’ll tell you what all’s happened.”

“I brought somebody who needs some looking after for awhile, Ma,” Cooper said for her ears alone. They exchanged a look of
understanding before he went to lift Bonnie down from the saddle. “This is Bonnie,” he said, keeping his hand under her arm
until Griffin slid from the saddle. “And this is Griffin. He had a little bad luck a few days back and ran into a bullet.
You might need to take a look at it, Ma. It opened up on him again this morning.”

Bonnie looked at Cooper’s mother, and her fears grew with leaps and bounds. She was so soft, so pretty and clean. Her dress
was freshly ironed, her white apron spotless, her hair combed to the top of her head and coiled in neat swirls. Oh, mercy!
she thought. This woman wouldn’t want
her
here! Her heart felt like a rock sinking to the bottom of her stomach. Bonnie wanted nothing more than to hide so Cooper’s
mother wouldn’t see the stump on the end of her arm, the soiled, ragged dress, and the shoes that Griffin had patched last
night with a thong. She nervously lifted her hand to push back the heavy strands of hair from her face and secure the pins
in the knot on her neck. All the while she held her handless arm behind her. She felt Griffin’s hand on her shoulder, gently
urging her toward the woman who came to meet her. She turned beseeching eyes on him.

“Griff—”

“It’ll be all right,” he murmured.

“You poor child!” Sylvia exclaimed. “You’re worn down to a nubbin’ and pale as a ghost. I’m guessing you’re hungry, too. Cooper
won’t quit a’tall when he’s on the trail. It’s a good thing he’s got Roscoe ’cause he’d ride a weaker horse right down to
its knees in a day’s time,” Sylvia chattered, seeing the panic in the girl’s eyes and hoping to give her time to collect herself.
“My goodness gracious, but it’s been a spell since I’ve had a woman to visit with. Come right on in.”

“Thank ya, ma’am.”

Sylvia’s blue eyes went from Bonnie to Griffin and she saw the anxious look on his face as he watched the girl who clutched
his arm.

“She’ll be just fine with me, Mr. Griffin,” she said, and smiled at him. “I’ll look after her. You go on and take care of
your horse, then come in for supper. I made a berry pie, Cooper. I had a feelin’ you were comin’ home today.”

Bonnie’s eyes pleaded with Griffin not to leave her, but he gripped her shoulder reassuringly and followed Cooper toward the
buildings behind the house. She watched him until he was out of sight, then turned to see the sweet-faced woman smiling at
her.

“My name is Sylvia.”

“I… I’m sorry to mis put ya, ma’am. I can go to the barn with Griff—”

“You’ll do not such thing. You’re not mis puttin’ me at all. Come on in. You don’t know what a treat it is for me to have
another woman in the house.”

Bonnie stood as if her legs were knee deep in mud. She was afraid to move. She hadn’t been able to change her padding since
morning and she could feel a warm wetness running down her legs. Oh, Lordy! she thought helplessly, wishing fervently that
Lorna was with her. If she went in the house it might gush out on the floor, then what would she do? Despite all she could
do to hold them back, tears spurted in her eyes.

“Ma’am, I cain’t—”

“Land agotion! What’s wrong?”

“Ain’t… nothin’, ma’am. I—”

Sylvia caught a whiff of a recognizable odor and saw the agony of embarrassment on the girl’s face. Understanding of her predicament
dawned. “Is your time on you?” she asked gently.

Bonnie nodded mutely and worked to keep her face from crumbling.

“It’s a cross we women have to bear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time. I’m not using my pads, now. They’re clean and folded—”

“I cain’t go in there.” Tears streamed down Bonnie’s face.

“Why not, child? Why ever not?” Sylvia was dumbfounded.

“I’m… dirty—”

“Why, of course you are. I don’t see how you can be on the trail and not be dirty. But that’s no reason—”

“You ain’t seen my arm,” Bonnie blurted.

“Your arm?”

“I ain’t got no… hand on it.”

“Landsakes! What difference does that make? I saw it when Cooper lifted you down from the horse.” Sylvia put an arm around
Bonnie’s waist and urged her toward the porch, but the girl held back.