Appaloosa Blues (Sisters of Spirit #8) (17 page)

“It sounds like a good group, a way to help each other.”

“We helped with school work, too. Perri knew five or six languages. She always got called on to help. And Jennel was artistic. She helped us illustrate things.”

“What was your specialty?”

“Math. I was always good at it. Especially after Mom home-schooled us for two years. No one to hold me back. She gave me the math books and I fairly flew through them.”

“You can help me keep the ranch books,” Adam suggested, picturing her at the desk in his room. “They take up a huge amount of my time. The government always has some records they want kept. Forms filled out.”

“I should do that for Dad. Gramps used to do it, but Dad had to take over when things went on the computer.”

So, she wasn’t going to rise to his suggestion? He had fun seeing her reactions to his more outrageous remarks.
“How’s Gramps this morning?”

“He seems to be taking all this fairly well. I’m really surprised.”

“We might have been able to end his feud a long time ago.”

“I don’t know. The memory of Grandmother Anna was strong at first. Her death almost killed him.”

Busy talking, they turned onto the road leaving the meadow area. As they headed down towards his ranch, he pointed to the cellular towers in the distance.

“Certain spots aren’t covered. Like here. No signal at all. It’s not cost effective to bring them into the mountain areas.”

“No. I can see— Look!”

They were upon the men before they realized, two figures, grabbing their tools and running to a truck. Adam raced his horse closer to see if he could read the license, then realized the plate was missing.

The barrel of a rifle poked out the opening in the back window, and he pulled Rocket up short, just as a shot rang out. Jo was close behind him and he motioned her back and to the side of the road, behind a tree.

The truck continued bouncing down the road and out of sight.

“That didn’t hit you, did it?” he asked her. “Or Paca?”

“No.”

They rode back to where the truck had been parked. Two of Adam’s calves were tied up to a tree. He put them back in the pasture and turned them loose, then went back to the fence with its cut wire.

He pulled his wire cutters out of his saddlebags and tried to fix the gap. There was a little extra wire where it had been fixed once before, two posts over. He walked over there and loosened that wire, reattached it shorter, then pulled it through the staples until he could join the sections and fence the gap again. It sagged, as he didn’t have a fence-puller, but it would keep the cows in. Not the bull, but as soon as they got back, he and Johnny would drive up here and mend it right.

“They’re getting bold,” he said, rejoining Jo. “And they’re carrying a gun. Until we get them caught, I want you to ride in your lower pasture. Stay off these mountain roads.”

“But…”

“Or else call, and I’ll ride with you. With a gun. We should catch them soon. They were careless today.”

“Did you know either of them?” Jo asked.

“No. But I didn’t get a good look.”

“Neither did I. But I looked at Rocket. His ear is bleeding.”

Adam walked to his horse’s head. Sure enough, Rocket’s ear had been clipped, a notch in it the same way they notched cattle ears. Except this notch was circular.

“I thought I heard the bullet go by. But Rocket didn’t flinch, so I didn’t notice this,” he said.

“You were too busy getting me out of the way.”

“Well, we now know what type of men we’re dealing with. I’ll alert the other ranchers. And the sheriff.”

They discussed the way the ranchers had organized themselves, with Adam being their eyes. Then, with a little bit of hurry, they reached the lookout just in time to see the sun go down.

“This is perfect,” Jo said.

“Yes, it is,” Adam agreed. She had been the one thing missing from this spot, every evening he had come here. They lingered until they had to leave. He rode with her to the corner gate, saw her out, then rode home happier than he’d ever been.

Saturday morning dawned hot and dry. It didn't take her meteorologist training to know that when the barometric pressure dropped and the air grew heavy with an oppressive stillness, a thunderstorm was building up.

Her dad and Mike had one field to finish before the storm broke, so Jo offered to milk Penny while they moved the haying equipment. At her call, the Jersey ran up to the gate, milk flying, anxious to enter the barn.

Jo enjoyed milking, it was a time of simple pleasure, the contentment of the cow chewing her grain, the quietness of the cool milk shed and the sound of milk entering the pail. Nearby stood the usual couple of cats who came in for a drink. One was mewing softly, mouth open, and Jo sent it a squirt, getting more on the floor and its face than in its mouth.

Jo rested her head against Penny's warm flank and listened absently to the milk hitting the bucket, tinny at first, then, as it filled, the tones deepened accordingly. She concentrated on the restful "shoosh, shoosh" of the milk, thinking of Adam.

Drifting in thought, she remembered his kisses, the touch of his hands, the deeply thrilling murmur of his voice. She could listen to him endlessly, the way he laughed, deep in his throat — even his teasing was becoming enjoyable.

She had a growing confidence in him, a trust that he would not hurt her in any way. She had never felt like this towards anyone outside her family.

 Mystified, Jo shook her head. Was she falling in love with Adam? She had know him for years, but the dream image was so powerful it could color her feelings.

Then there could so easily be another reason for Adam's apparent wooing of her. The lease. Four years was not that long if a person was prepared to wait.

Jo's hands ached all the way up to her shoulders by the time she opened the wooden bails to release Penny. She'd have to ask Karen to milk at night until her hands re-accustomed themselves to the task.

At breakfast, Jo told her dad about how Adam helped her free Paca and mentioned his participation in the Blue Mountain Livestock Patrol. What she was in effect saying was, "Here's someone I'm interested in."

Gramps was present at the table, fussing with the oatmeal he once liked but now despised because he had to eat it. He commented that it took a rogue to catch a rogue, and then changed the subject. She didn’t tell him about seeing the thieves. He didn’t know she had ridden with Adam.

Near the end of breakfast the phone rang and Karen answered it. "It's for you, Jo. It's Adam," she said, nervously.

Gramps choked on his food, as Jo hurried across the room, worried. Adam was pushing things. Why was he calling? Her hand shook as she picked up the phone. This wasn't what she wanted. This was too soon.

"Hello."

"Good morning, Jo." His calm, quiet voice did little to abate the agitated rhythm of her heartbeat. "Can Gramps hear you?"

"Yes." Gramps' presence, plus curiosity, kept her from hanging up on him.

"Does he know I'm on the line?"

"Yes!"

Adam chuckled softly at the way she snapped the word. "Good. I'm going to run some salt blocks out to several areas this morning. Won't take more than a couple of hours, so how about I swing by in twenty minutes and pick you up?"

"I don't know. Don't you think you're....uh...." Jo paused, unable to speak freely.

"No, I don't. You already told him you want to date me."

"So I did, but—"

"You coming or not?"

She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. Jo turned so she could see her grandfather. He was talking to her father, who was shaking his head, saying, "She's twenty-three. I can't stop her."

"Humph" Knocking over his coffee cup, her grandfather scrambled to his feet and stomped out of the kitchen, muttering dire threats against Adam.

Putting her hand over the mouthpiece, Jo said, "Will you need me this morning, Dad?"

"Not today. Go ahead."

Lifting her hand, she spoke to Adam. "I'll be ready when you come."

"Bring a swimsuit. See you." He hung up.

Jo stared at the receiver. She didn't know how much of the conversation Gramps had heard, but his reaction hadn't seemed as explosive as it had two days ago. Maybe he was getting resigned to the idea.

Jo walked over to where her father was sitting, silently observant. "Here's your lunch."

He took it from her. "Thanks. I take it Adam's coming this morning."

"Yes." Her eyes sparkled in anticipation. "Is Gramps okay?"

"He seems to be. Just don't throw Adam at him too fast." He stood up to leave. "See you this evening."

As her father closed the door, Jo turned to Karen. "I'm leaving in twenty minutes. If we hurry, I'll have time to help with the dishes."

"Don't bother, I'll do them."

"Would you?"

"I'm cutting out a dress today. With the men working straight through, I won't have to stop until supper. So I'll clean up. You go get ready."

"Thanks. I smell like the barn." Jo said, racing up the stairs.

"That's never bothered you before," Karen yelled after her.

It took Jo the entire twenty minutes, five to shower, ten to dry and style her hair, and the other five to dress. She rejected her new T-shirts in favor of an old mossy green one that accented her hazel eyes — and was nice and loose. Pulling on a new pair of jeans and moccasins, she was ready just as Adam's truck rolled up the drive.

"Thanks, Karen," she yelled as she took the steps two at a time and ran out the door, hopping into Adam's blue pick-up almost before it pulled to a stop.

"What's the hurry? Running away from something?" he kidded as he reversed to turn and go down the drive. She sat back with a sigh of satisfaction. "Or maybe," he added, "you couldn't wait to see me again."

She glanced his way. He was too sure of himself. And looking fit and rugged in jeans and tank top. There should be a law against muscular men wearing tank tops.

"I wanted to put on a good act for Gramps."

"Did you tell him where we're going?"

"No. He didn't wait around to hear. But he's no longer telling me to stay away from you."

"Great! I like your T-shirt," said Adam. "It matches your eyes."

“Thanks. I bought some new ones yesterday, but I was afraid we might be crawling through barbed wire and I didn't want to risk tearing them."

"There are gates where we'll be today." He shifted down, the truck inching up the last hill into the timber. It was a four-wheel-drive with high clearance, so they traveled easily along the mountain roads.

“Our gate was left open—the one to the mountain pastures. I had to close it as I went through yesterday,” she said. “I could see where a truck had driven through.”

“Were there any tire prints? Enough so Sheriff Allerton could get a cast?”

“No. I don’t think so. The edges were not clear.”

"Slide over," he said. "You're too far away." In agreement, Jo scooted to the center of the bench-style seat.

Adam caught the fragrance of her hair and sniffed. "Umm, you smell good." He sniffed again. "Coconut?"

"My shampoo."

"I like it."

The road ran along the rounded tops of the mountains, so it was fairly level for stretches. Adam shifted into fourth and swung his arm across the back of the seat, above her shoulder. "This is a super way to go to work. It could become a habit. Cuddle up a little more."

Laughing at his boldness, Jo slid a little closer, but her contentment was short lived.

"Where shall we go on our honeymoon?"

"Honeymoon? What honeymoon?"

"Ours."

"We aren't going on a honeymoon."
Trust him to come up with a subject like that.

"But where would you want to go? You've got to have a honeymoon after the wedding," Adam explained patiently as if she was the one not being reasonable.

"Not me. I agreed to a mock engagement, only." She tried to straighten away from him but his arm stayed her.

"Take it easy. Once we announce our engagement, people are going to ask questions. It would be nice if we had some answers to give them. Now where would you like to go, love? Portland? Or Spokane?"

So this discussion was only to cover themselves if people asked? Strangely, the knowledge depressed Jo, as if the rock she thought was gold, turned out to be iron pyrite, fool's gold. "Not particularly. I don't like towns that well."

"Same here."

"So, if we must plan this, let's make it somewhere close. How about our `Alps of Oregon?' We could either stay in Joseph or at the lodge by the lake and take daily rides into the Wallowas. How long is this honeymoon supposed to last?"

"A week at least. No self-respecting honeymoon lasts less than a week. Would you like to camp out?"

"Yes. I love the high alpine country."

He nodded. "A girl after my own heart...a pack trip in the Wallowa Mountains. We'd have to wait till most of the snow is gone. Let's see, we'd need a tent and several horses—"

"Two fishing poles—"

"And a sleeping bag," he stressed.

"Two bags," she corrected dryly. "Or were you planning on going alone?"

"Oh, no," he assured her. "One bag — extra large. This is a honeymoon we're planning. That's the most essential item."

Her active imagination had already placed her in the bag with him and from the look on his face he was enjoying the same image. Stubbornly she wrenched her mind away. She could conjure it up again tonight, when it was safer.
Her face was far too revealing, and if she could read his thoughts...

He was getting too realistic. Pretending was easier if you acted like it was real, but enough was enough.

Adam pulled off the road at a wire gate. The trailing dust cloud caught up and covered everything, and Adam waited to let it settle. Then he opened his door, pulled out a salt block and carried it over to the wire gate. Inside the pasture he set the block over a foot-high metal stake driven into the ground, the blocks being manufactured with a hole in the middle so they could be anchored down in such a manner.

Putting the wire gate back up, he climbed in and drove toward the next area.