Wyoming Wildfire (13 page)

“There’s nothing to keep you here any longer,” he said. “Don’t hang around.”

They rounded up Sibyl’s beeves and left.

Sibyl didn’t know how she endured the long days spent waiting for Burch. She had decided against telling Augusta the real purpose behind the trip, so she had no one to share the anxiety with her. The men knew, but they went placidly on with their work, certain that their boss would outsmart two of the meanest renegades in the territory.

“It’s too bad the railroad allowed the herd to be split up,” said Augusta. They should have to deliver the rest instead of Burch going after them.”

“It certainly would have saved a lot of time,” agreed Sibyl absently. The hours passed with painful slowness, and Sibyl drove herself to exhaustion every day to keep from thinking about what might be happening to Burch. Still she couldn’t sleep, and her eyes took on a sunken, haunted look.

“You shouldn’t work so hard,” her aunt said on several occasions, but her wise eyes detected the presence of some secret force that compelled Sibyl to exhaust herself with tasks mat could easily have been saved until later. She knew it had something to do with Burch’s absence but refrained from questioning her niece.

Sibyl was in her room when she heard Balaam shouting about a cloud of dust to the south. She ran to the window and waited anxiously for the cloud to draw nearer and the beings within it to begin to take shape. When at last she was able to differentiate Old Blue’s distinctive color from the surrounding haze, she uttered a cry of relief, threw herself on the bed, and broke into the tears she had been struggling to hold back for a week. Relief, joy, anger, and frustration all warred her breast, but it was joy and relief that won the day and she emerged from her room, wreathed in smiles, to welcome the returning conquerors.

She was on the porch long before the herd reached the house, but Burch broke from the group, coming ahead to meet her. Seeing him thus, with the whole plain as a backdrop, Sibyl was struck again by his rugged handsomeness.

Surely there wasn’t another man in all Wyoming with such powerful shoulders, such a masterful jaw, such intensely gray eyes. He exuded the same sense of power and lithe grace as his prancing stallion, and Sibyl felt prickles of pleasure run up and down her spine.

He came to her with complete disdain for the danger or difficulty of his task, expecting no praise for having so speedily accomplished it. It was part of his job, so he had done it; that was all there was to it. Sibyl’s heart swelled with pride, and tears of happiness threatened to overcome her once again, but she fought them back, determined to greet Burch as casually as he came to her.

“I told you we’d bring them back,” Burch called out as she came down the steps to meet him. “They’re a little leaner for all this chasing about, but a little water and rest will put them to rights in no time.”

“Did you have any trouble?”

“Not much,” he said, but then Lasso burst into rude laughter and Sibyl knew he wasn’t telling the truth. “Well, maybe a little. Old Ute wasn’t too pleased to give them back, but then I didn’t expect him to be.”

“Not to mention the fact that Loomis nearly hugged you to death,” Lasso added, and both men went off in whoops this time. Sibyl was enormously relieved to know they were safe, but for them to be laughing like boys up to tomfolery, after she’d stayed awake every night, was enough to make her remember every grievance she’d every had against Burch. She didn’t know what she might have said if her aunt hadn’t stepped out of the house at that moment.

“My gracious, it’s just the cows. I couldn’t figure out what could be the cause of so much commotion? I heard it all the way in my room.” Sibyl and Burch turned toward Augusta, unaware that Lasso’s laughter had ended in a strangled choke.

“Merciful Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, looking at Augusta as if she were the first woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Now that Burch is back, maybe you can stop worrying yourself sick.”

“Don’t say a word to him. They actually
enjoyed
it!”

“Everybody needs a little harmless fun once in a while. Things have been a mite dull around here.”

Lasso interrupted his friend without ceremony. “Is the other one married?” he demanded in a loud whisper.

“No,” said Burch, diverted by the dazed look in his friend’s eyes.

Then stop jawing and introduce me.”

Burch looked keenly at his friend, and a light of unholy amusement grew in his eyes. “Miss Hauxhurst, this rude lummox is a friend of mine. I’m ashamed to introduce him to you all dirty and sweaty, but I don’t see any other way of getting rid of him. His name is Pinckney Slaughter, though his daddy should have been ashamed to saddle a mule with such an outlandish name. This is my cousin’s aunt, Miss Augusta Hauxhurst. She’s here to keep the wolves away from Sibyl, but she’s a mighty fine lady just the same.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hauxhurst,” Lasso said, pushing Burch aside. “I’ll do my best to make you feel welcome in Wyoming. I sure hope you’re planning to stay for a while.”

“I’m not yet certain, Mr. Slaughter,” quavered Augusta, overwhelmed by the aggressive gallantry of the huge man descending on her with such energy. “I will remain as long as Sibyl is here.”

“Call me Lasso, ma’am. Mr. Slaughter seems too formal, and there ain’t no man but Burch who’s ever dared to call me Pinckney.”

“I don’t think I can, Mr. Slaughter,” faltered Augusta, cringing before him. “We’ve only just met. I don’t know you at all.”

“I can take care of that quick enough, little woman,” he beamed, taking her lifeless hand and tucking it into his. “You just come inside and sit while I tell you all about myself.”

“Mr. Slaugher …”

“Now don’t you worry about the proprieties. Your niece is here to see that I toe the line. No one will breathe a word against you in my presence and live.” He led the unresisting Augusta away. “A fine filly,” he said, casting an eye over Augusta’s shapely body, “a mighty fine filly.”

Sibyl was stunned into immobility, but Burch had to lean on the fence to keep from sliding to the ground.

“Did you see that?” Sibyl announced, recovering her voice. “He swooped down and dragged my poor aunt away, and you didn’t even try to stop him.”

“Your aunt has knocked Lasso Slaughter right out of the saddle,” Burch managed to gasp, sorely tried by his silent laughter. “I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. And him not this side of forty.”

“Stop that useless laughing and do something. She’s never even met that man, and he walked off with her like he owned her.”

“Rest easy; you won’t find any better man than Lasso. His spread is not as big as the Elkhorn, but it’s a right good size ranch. I’ve never seen him get that excited about anything since his twins were born. I would say that your aunt has gotten herself a beau, and a pretty fancy one at that.”

Sibyl looked blankly at the retreating figures and then back at Burch. She could not fathom the idea that her staid Aunt Augusta could attract a suitor.

“I bet that’s the first time any woman has ever walked off with a man from under your nose.”

“Burch Randall, you are the most contemptible man I’ve ever met. My aunt did not
walk off
with him from under anything; she was carried off by your marauding sidekick. He wouldn’t even listen when she tried to tell him she didn’t want to go. Now, you go in there and rescue her.”

“Augusta can rescue herself any time she wants to. Lasso’s not a brute. What I am going to do is see about corralling these yearlings. I can’t wait to see Ned and Balaam square off over them.”

Sibyl hesitated momentarily between following Burch and going to her aunt’s rescue, deciding on the latter. Burch was taking it all as a great joke and was obviously not going to be any help. She couldn’t believe that her aunt could really enjoy the company of such a loud, stalwart guest.

Inside she found Augusta sitting in stunned immobility while Lasso launched into a recital of the history of himself and his ranch in a ringing voice that soon began to beat in Sibyl’s temples like the sounding of a brass bell.

“You won’t have to worry about the girls pestering you, because they’re hardly ever at home. The house just about runs itself, but just say the word, and I’ll bring somebody in to do the heavy work.”

My Lord, he acts like they’re already engaged, Sibyl thought, dumbfounded.

“The Three Bars is not as big as the Elkhorn, but it’s set in higher county and the air is cleaner and the view better. My herd’s pretty near as good as Randall’s, but that bull your niece brought in is going to give him a big leg up on everybody. I’ll have to see about buying a couple of those bull calves off him. Maybe he’ll give up one as a wedding present.”

That herd belongs to me,” Sibyl heard herself repeating as one in a trance. Why wouldn’t this obstinate man believe her? “If you want a bull calf, you’ll have to talk to me.”

“I reckon Burch has to indulge you now and then,” Lasso said surveying her with a tolerant eye. “Anything as pretty as you is worth a mite of trouble.”

“Pretty has nothing to do with it,” Sibyl snapped, infuriated by his patronizing attitude. “They’d be half mine even if they belonged to the ranch.”

“Well, some day you and me can sit down and discuss it, but I’d still like to talk to Burch, to be on the safe side.”

“You keep talking like this, and the only safe side you’re going to find is the other side of that door.”

“I dunk a cup of coffee would be nice,” said Augusta, looking like she’d seen a ghost. “Would you like some, Mr. Slaughter?”

“I told you to call me Lasso. I never stand on ceremony with my friends.”

“Would you like cream and sugar with your coffee, Mr. Lasso?” Augusta asked with a visible struggle.

“Don’t you go mucking up good coffee with that stuff. I want it black and mean.”

That’s exactly the way Burch likes it,” said Sibyl.

“It’s the way all cowboys drink their coffee. We don’t know any other way.”

“Would you like to try a cup the way we drink it?” Augusta inquired mildly.

“Don’t go trying to change people as old and set in their ways as I am, little woman. It only causes a lot of friction, and everything ends up the same as before anyway.”

August appeared to be quite struck by that reasonable point of view.

“Shall I fix you a cup too, dear?”

“Please.”

“That’s a mighty fine woman you’ve got there,” Lasso said, rubbing his hands together as Augusta went to get the coffee. “Yep, a mighty fine woman.”

“Stop talking about her like she’s a heifer,” Sibyl demanded, still considerably put out with him.

“I’ve never seen a heifer as first class as that little woman, not even those beauties you say are yours.”

“They
are
mine,” Sibyl almost shouted.

“If you say so,” he said, humoring her.

That made her so angry she had to grip the sides of her chair to keep from attacking him. Why were men so stubborn? To listen to them talk, you’d think they were the only ones capable of doing anything at all.

“Fine lines, too,” he murmured to himself, “mighty fine lines.”

Sibyl hovered on the verge of imprudent speech, but Burch’s arrival prevented her from saying something she would probably have had to apologize for later.

“You ought to see Ned with those cows. You’d think he had been given heaven and the sky at the same time. He and Balaam are fussing about putting out hay and arguing over how big a pasture they’ll need.”

“Good heavens, they’re only cows,” said Sibyl, annoyed.

“That may be the most valuable stock in the whole of Wyoming. A man gains stature just by being associated with such a herd.”

“Wait until the other ranchers hear about them. You’ll have everyone from here to the boarder trying to buy them off you. How many do you have altogether?”

“They are mine,” Sibyl nearly shouted. “Burch and the Elkhorn don’t own as much as one unborn calf.”

“That’s true, the/re every one Sibyl’s private property. You’ll have to deal with her if you want one. I’ll probably have to do the same thing myself.”

“Well, miss, as soon as that gets about, you’re going to be mighty popular. Of course, as soon as Burch lets people get a glimpse of you, you’ll be popular anyway. You ought to marry her and get her off the market before the price starts to rise.”

Burch was overcome with a fit of coughing, and Augusta spilled half a cup of the coffee she was pouring. Sibyl fixed Lasso with a ferocious glare.

“The price is already too high for anyone here,” she said with icy disdain. “Besides, the market has never been open.”

“Now don’t get yourself into a taking. You’re a mighty pretty thing, and if Burch don’t take to you, that’s his business, but you’re bound to find some man that will be happy to saddle up with you. You’re not quite as well-turned out as your aunt there—a might too skinny for my taste—but there’s a lot of cowboys that wouldn’t mind a sharp edge or two for the chance to snuggle down with such a pretty armful.”

Burch turned away with shaking shoulders; Augusta stared straight ahead, silent and immobile. Sibyl bounded to her feet quick as a startled deer.