Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5) (8 page)

I am a fierce warrior. Nothing can sto—

She blinked, clearing her blurred vision and foggy mind. Large leaves and branches hid her for now, but it wouldn’t be long before the men found her.

I won’t die like this!

She fingered the knife sheathed in leather and tied around her waist, remembering the stories of women who had used theirs to keep from being dishonored. Sweat slicked her forehead. She dug through her pack for the soft skin wraps she’d packed, then clumsily bandaged her arm to stop the bleeding.

All the while, the men kept coming.

She swayed. Gulping in breaths, she wrapped her fists in her mare’s mane, and with a cry of agony, pulled herself onto the mare’s back, praying for strength to say mounted.

Chapter Ten

T
he hour in the bunkhouse with the cowhands had been just what Charity had needed. She hadn’t laughed so much in years. And she’d been able to put Francis’s comment out of her mind. He was hurt. He’d staked claim on her years ago, whether she wanted it or not. She’d tried often enough to let him know he was just a friend, but maybe now that the time had come for her and Brandon, he was taking it harder than expected.

When her father and brothers arrived to begin the day’s work, she saddled up and rode over to Rachel’s. Faith and Amy were already there, children in tow. She spent the rest of the morning playing with her darling nieces. She and her sisters-in-law had planned the visit last night at Cattlemen’s, and while she would have loved to sit in on the bunkhouse meeting to hear how they would combat the lumpy jaw Pedro had discovered, she didn’t want to renege on yesterday’s promise.

Riding back into the ranch yard on her palomino, Charity arrived just as the door to the bunkhouse opened and everyone streamed out. Eight horses were tied at the hitching rail, and a scattering of hens pecked at the dirt between their feet.

“Charity,” Flood called. “You ready to ride? We’re going to Covered Bridge and Three Forks.”

She waved, then rode up next to Luke, Matt, Mark, Roady, and her father. The rest of the men mounted up and headed out. “I’m ready and able. I haven’t ridden the pastures for months. I miss it.”

“Well, it’s good you’re back, because we can use your help,” Luke said. “We’re riding in pairs to check the stock. If you find any infected animals, bring ’em back here so we can treat ’em with iodine. Another set of eyes will be useful.”

Flood gathered his reins and mounted, as agile as any of her brothers.

“How come you get to go with Charity, Flood?” Roady asked, a teasing light in his eyes.

Flood gave him a stern look. “Because it’s been months since I had a ride with my daughter. She’s getting married soon, so the opportunities will be few and far between. Especially after she has a little Brandon or Charity.”

Charity could hardly believe her ears. Embarrassed, she turned her head, and her brothers and Roady laughed.

“You better get used to it,” Matt said. “Once you’re a married woman, you’ll hear all sorts of new things.”

“If you say so.”

Matt winked at her. “I just did. Hey, how was the tea party? Rachel could hardly sleep last night with excitement. She had me dig out her best linen and set up an extra little table for the tykes, all before you arrived.”

When Charity heard that, she was doubly glad she hadn’t canceled time with the family to join the meeting.

“It was nice. Her berry pie was delicious. And before you ask—there’s plenty left for you.”

“Thank goodness. The smell of it baking this morning about drove me loco.”

As Flood loped away, he called over his shoulder, “You coming, Daughter, or are you going to sit there all day talking?”

• • •

It took a good twenty-minute lope to make it out to the big herd. Luke and Mark would be out to check this group, but she’d asked her pa if they could come this direction on their way to Covered Bridge so she could see the sight of all those steers grazing. The vision always did funny things to her insides.

They stopped on a hill overlooking a valley filled with bovine. “You know, Pa, I really enjoyed Texas, but I’ll never be able to describe how much I missed this.”

She swung her arm wide, indicating the land and the cattle.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me, darlin’. I understand completely. And I wasn’t even born here. You were. This land is in your blood. I don’t think you could get it out even if you tried.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying the view.

“Have you and Brandon discussed where the two of you will live? Will you stay in his house in town?”

Flood tipped his hat back and turned to her, a totally innocent look on his face.

Charity fought to keep a straight face. A year ago, while she was in Y Knot, she’d stopped into the office of Mr. Browning, attorney-at-law, and the man who represented the ranch if they had need of counsel. Everyone had been out to lunch. She had a parcel from her father to deliver, so she put it on the man’s desk. She wasn’t snooping, but right there, for all the world to see, was a document labeled LAND GIFT FOR CHARITY McCUTCHEON. With a heading like that, it would have been impossible not to stop and glance it over.

Her parents and brothers were gifting her, upon her marriage, a chunk of land she and Brandon could build on, make into whatever they chose. She knew they’d done it so Brandon would be close enough to town to keep an eye on things as sheriff, and yet live with her where she’d be happy—and where she’d be nearer to the home ranch so she could continue to work there.

“Where else? For now, at least, I’ll move into his house behind the sheriff’s office. I admit, it’ll be different, a huge change for me, but I’m looking forward to it. A little variation is always good, don’t you think, Pa? At least, that’s what you’ve always said.”

“Indeed.”

He was looking at the cattle again. She loved when his eyes took on that faraway, dreamy look, and his lips turned up, resembling her brothers’.

“That’s what brought me out to Montana all those years ago,” he said. “And gave me the inspiration to leave the rest of my brothers behind and see what life had to offer over the next rise. As much as I’ve missed them through the years, I wouldn’t change a thing about my life.”

She almost sighed at his intense countenance. He was thinking back, remembering all the good times.

“It was in this rugged, take-no-prisoners land that I met your mama. My whole life changed.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Your grandfather was dead set against her marrying a thick-skulled hothead—that’s what he used to call me. His sweet girl was the apple of his eye and his only child. We met on a frigid December night when the snow swirled so thick I couldn’t see the hand in front of my face.”

He removed his hat and scratched his head. “From the moment I saw Claire, I knew she was the one I would marry. I was smitten. Couldn’t think of anything or anyone but her. Her pa knew I wouldn’t give up, so after a month he finally said yes—but that we’d have to wait three months.” He chuckled again and gazed off at the cattle, deep in thought.

“Well, what happened?” Charity asked. “You’re not stopping there.”

“What happened?” he repeated. “I worked every job I could find, and that was no easy feat because Y Knot was hardly even a town back then. Jobs were few and far between. I scraped together what little money I could and built her a small one-room log cabin, then began building this ranch, one steer at a time.”

“And the boys?”

“They started coming along faster each year, and finally you. As much as Claire loves her sons, which she does with all her heart, when you surprised us, something inside her blossomed. It was as if after having four sons in a row, she hadn’t believed a daughter was possible.”

He reached over and patted her leg, making her throat squeeze tight.

“We’re going to miss you, darlin’, and that’s a fact I’m not ashamed to say out loud to the whole world.”

“Pa, stop. You’re making me all sentimental. I’m not going anywhere—far, at least.”

He reined around. “You better not. So just humor me a little. You’ll understand better when your last ragamuffin is ready to fly the coop.” His voice became thick, and he pulled his hat low. “Come on, we have work to do.” He urged his mount into a jog, headed east.

Charity followed. “That’s a lifetime away, Pa,” she called. “I want to enjoy my youth for a while before I start bemoaning a nest empty of children I don’t even have.”

“You better prepare yourself. Life goes by faster than you think—and takes some unexpected turns along the way.”

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at Covered Bridge. Charity’s mare put her head down and snorted when Charity asked her to cross, but followed tentatively after Flood’s horse.

The rushing water made a cheerful sound and the air was cool and inviting. After crossing, they halted on the other side of the river. “Where do you think the cattle are?” she asked.

“This way. Usually they’re in the valley by the aspen grove.” Without another word, they loped off.

As usual, her pa was right. It was a smaller herd of about seventy-five head, but it would take a good part of the day to ride through them all.

“Okay, Daughter, we’ll start here and ride about fifteen feet apart. Let’s go.”

Charity made her way slowly into the bawling herd, her cutting horse well versed in the action. Nervously, the cattle fanned out at a trot, opening a path. She halted and let the cattle settle. They stopped and looked at her. Several dropped their heads back to eat, while others still eyed her suspiciously.

When they were calm, she took a few slow steps. She was close enough that she could reach out and touch some if she were so inclined. With a keen eye, Charity did a quick study of each heifer’s face, looking for any sign the animals had problems eating or breathing. In advanced stages of lumpy jaw, the heifer would be weak and unsteady on her feet.

“See anything?” Flood called over.

“Nothing yet. But I sure love the smell of these cattle. It’s good to be ranching.”

She swatted a fly out of her face and her thoughts meandered to the bunkhouse and how much she loved the hands. Then to Frances and what he’d said.

Who was Fancy Aubrey anyway? Even only hearing the elaborate saloon-girl-sounding name once, it was firmly branded in her mind, never to be forgotten. Surely, with a name like that, she was beautiful. Sultry. Sexy. Totally tempting to a man like Brandon. And totally the opposite of Charity’s tomboy ways.

A heifer in front of Charity lifted her tail and made a perfectly round splat of cow dung on the ground.

Brandon liked self-assured women. Ones who could take care of themselves as good as any man. Didn’t he?

Two hours passed in the hot sun, making her chaps feel all the heavier on her legs. Almost finished with this herd, Charity reached for her canteen and took a mouthful of cool water.

Riding slowly forward, she spotted an unusually short heifer in front of her that had her nose to the ground but wasn’t eating. Listlessly, the bovine turned her head and glanced in Charity’s direction, but didn’t trot away.

“I think I’ve got one over here, Pa,” she shouted through cupped hands. “I’ll bring her out.”

Charity took her rope and shook out the loop. With very little effort, because the cow was so close and didn’t seem to have the volition to run off, she landed her loop nicely over the animal’s head. Charity dallied her rope around her horn and started for the edge of the herd, where her pa was waiting. When she had the heifer away from the other cattle, she pulled it to a trot so her father could catch the heifer’s hind feet. That accomplished, they stretched her out on the ground.

The red Hereford’s tongue hung from the side of her mouth as she struggled, her eyes wide with fear. Charity dismounted her palomino, the horse keeping the rope stretched taut, and met her father at the cow’s side.

“Let’s get this done,” Flood said, holding one of several two-foot-long willow switches he’d brought along.

Charity stroked the frightened animal a few times on the neck, then put a knee on the heifer’s shoulder and gripped her head. Her gloved hands slipped off the cow’s slimy nose. She took a second hold. “I’ve got her.”

“All right. Here we go.” Flood squatted down and stuck the willow into the back of her throat, careful not to cause any harm.

The frightened animal opened her mouth but shut it quickly.

Charity took a firmer grip, ready to hold her mouth open once she gave in. “Come on, girl, this won’t hurt a bit.”

Flood tried again, this time lying in the dirt belly-down so he could get a better view to the back of her mouth. He squinted through the dust and flies. Admiration for all that her pa was filled her.

Flood tossed the switch away and rolled back to his knees. Climbing to his feet, he dusted off his clothes. “Yeah, I saw something that looked suspicious.” He gave a small tug on his rope and his horse took a step forward. With the slack, Flood released the heifer’s hind hooves and she struggled to stand. Charity and Flood stood back.

“You want to take her back to the ranch and I’ll check the animals at Three Forks?”

She looked at the heifer that, now with her feet free, ran the length of the heading rope as far away from them as she could get. Her horse pivoted, keeping a taut line. “That’ll take you a long time doing it alone.”

“I’ve done it before and I’m sure I’ll have to do it again.”

“Okay, then,” she replied.

“I’ll see you at supper.” He gave her the smile she remembered from childhood. She enjoyed working with her father just as much as she’d enjoyed sitting on his lap when she was four years old.

She pointed at him. “Be careful!”

He laughed, looking so much like her brothers, it took her breath. “
You
be careful, Charity. I mean that, girl!”

Chapter Eleven

W
ednesday morning found Brandon behind his desk in the sheriff’s office, going through the daily journal. One page. Two events, four sentences. Someday he’d have a deputy who followed his orders.