On Her Way Home (35 page)

Mac left the stall and walked over to the three riders. Short-tempered, he barked, “What kind of trouble?”

“Cattle.”

Mac’s eyes drew together in a turbulent scowl. “How many more?” he demanded.

“We found two more dead a few days ago. That makes five in total.”

Mac could feel Jo’s eyes on him, but he had yet to look at her. For two weeks he’d torn himself apart trying to get her face out of his mind and had made no progress. He was used to missing Sam and looking forward to coming home to see him, but it was Jo who had been on his mind day and night while he was away. Keeping his eyes averted from Jo, Mac collected his thoughts, letting his anger turn from a livid red to an icy cool.

Charlie and Jo dismounted and led the horses away, unsaddling them and giving Kirby a chance to fill Mac in on all that had transpired.

“I brought Waters out here the other day and took him up to the pasture. He seems to think it might be bootleggers who are shooting up the cattle,” Kirby said.

“Bull!” Mac growled. “We’ve ridden all over that land and have never seen any sign of bootleggers, and even if there was, shooting up cattle would be the dumbest thing in the world to do. It’d only draw attention to them.”

Kirby shook his head. “I said as much to Waters, but he told me he’d done some digging around after you talked to him the other day, and it turns out those two boys you wouldn’t hire back have a history in the whiskey trade. It appears they got into some trouble over in Helena a few years back. If they’re running hooch, they certainly don’t want us riding around up there. Mayhap they figured shooting up a few cows would convince you to move the herd to a different part of the range.”

“Hell,” Mac cursed irritably, glaring up at the barn roof. 

Kirby walked across the barn and began unsaddling Big Dan. “It starts to make sense when you think it over a bit. It was plumb crazy for those two hands to come slinking back here for work after they’d run off for the copper mines. They’d only do that if they had a darn good reason to. A still back there in the woods somewhere would be a good reason,” Kirby stated pointedly.

Mac chewed on the inside of his cheek, Kirby’s conjecture starting to make sense to him. If they did have a still up there somewhere, riding herd would give them an alibi, as well as plenty of time to check on it. Riding out early in the morning and coming in late at night was regular activity for a ranch hand; they could transport the stuff without Mac even knowing it. Mac wondered if that had been the reason they were so adamant about riding up in the high pasture. It’s where they’d worked for him last year, and Mac had been so occupied with other tasks that he’d rarely checked on them.

“But why take a shot at us today?” Charlie called from the stall where he was brushing down Captain.

“What?” Mac’s voice whipped over them.

Kirby craned his neck around to glare at Charlie. “It wasn’t anything serious. Just a warning shot,” he said, trying to calm Mac down.

Now Mac’s eyes shifted to Jo. She stared back at him with worried eyes that couldn’t hide the truth from him. The shot had come close to her. Mac’s heart turned cold in his chest as a deep hatred overtook him.

Jo had seen that look on Mac’s face before when he’d told her about the Germans shooting the body of the private over and over again in the war. They had that same cold, teeming glossiness.

“What do you want to do, boss?” Kirby asked.

Mac turned his head to the side, staring blackly out the barn door, anger pulsing through him. He wasn’t going to sit back and do nothing while bootleggers trespassed on his land and shot up his cattle. “You and I…Leif and Charlie,” he said, purposely avoiding Jo’s gaze, “we’ll ride out early tomorrow. Do some looking around.”

Jo was about to argue with Mac, insist he take her along as well, but the dogged light in his eyes and the rigidness in his back gave her pause. Plus, she didn’t want her first conversation with Mac after his return home to be an argument.

Mac shot a quick glance in Jo’s direction, expecting a revolt, but she didn’t speak, just continued her task of brushing Major. Angry, frustrated, and weary, he left the barn, anxious to clean up and find Sam.

***

The sky faded into a dusky gray as Jo strolled through the field, trying to decide if she wanted to walk down to the river for a bit of solitude.  She felt lost tonight. She had grown accustomed to the evening ritual of playing with Sam, but now that Mac had returned, she’d been replaced. Not that she was upset about it. She loved watching Mac and Sam together. The bright smile that lit up Sam’s face when Mac came through the door today had warmed her. Even so, a part of her was sad. She would miss tucking him into bed tonight.

Jo walked the fence line at the edge of the property, dropping her palm on the top of each fence post as she aimlessly wandered by them. When she’d set foot on that train so many months ago, she never imagined she would find a place that called to her as much as this ranch did.

***

Stepping out onto the porch after having just laid Sam down, Mac’s eyes roamed over the fields. Kirby, Charlie, and Jo had accomplished a lot of the harvest while he was away. It was this time of year that Mac felt a glowing pride and pleasure in the ranch. The cows were fat from summer grass and the crops grown and harvested, just in time for the air to turn brisk and the leaves to change color. Only two things prevented Mac from feeling the calm fulfillment that generally accompanied the close of summer: the cattle and Jo.

His eyes caught sight of her silhouette brushing down the fence line, outlined in the orange and reds of the setting sun.

The two weeks away from her had given Mac a clear glimpse of what a lifetime without her would feel like, and it was bitter emptiness. Feelings he’d thought were long buried had surfaced, and a hatred he thought he’d killed had flickered and burned to life. When he was recovering from his wound, lying in the hospital bed for weeks on end, he’d begun to hate Tom. Hate him for putting him there, hate him for his weakness, hate him for forcing his hand. Mac thought he’d left all those feelings behind him in France, but here they were again churning in his soul. They had destroyed each other’s lives.

Mac watched as Jo slipped under the fence and disappeared into the trees.
She must be heading to the beach
. He told himself to let her be, to leave her alone, but tonight his will had mastery over his mind. He quickly saddled General, using the fact that he wanted to stretch the horse out a bit and loosen up its stiff leg as an excuse to follow Jo.

***

Jo picked up a pebble and tossed it into the river. All summer this had been a favorite spot for her. Early in the year water rushed by with rapid speed, but now its stream was a lazy melodic crawl. She slipped off her shoes and tiptoed down to the water, dipping her toes in its soothing swirls. Goosebumps rose along the planes of her smooth legs from the chilled waves. Jo pulled her sweater close around her and twirled her toes in wide lazy circles, creating little eddies in the shallow water. It was pure evening stillness. The low whir of pine boughs, the soft chirp of crickets, and the whisper of the bubbling river gliding over stones as old as breath floated round the ageless mountains and up into heaven.

A noise behind Jo dispersed the reverent hum like a pebble rippling water. She turned to find Mac leading General down the shallow slo
pe to the beach.

“I’m not trespassing,” she teased with a soft grin, reminding him of their first encounter.

Mac smiled at her clever greeting. Dismounting from the horse, he tethered it to a nearby tree and strolled casually toward her. “The water is getting low,” he commented, feeling unusually restless and off balance in her company.

Jo was like a beacon summoning him in the dusky night air. She was wearing a soft, white cotton dress that hugged the feminine curves of her body and glowed brightly beside the dark tan of her arms and legs. Long wisps of silky hair blew around her face, and she kept reaching up to tuck the carefree locks behind her ear. Mac would have been suspicious of the coy mannerism in anyone else, but Jo was innocent and naïve, and had no idea how enticing she was. As Mac watched her, he became less and less confident in his ability to maintain his distance.

“Is Sam asleep?” Jo asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to fill the uncomfortable silence around them.

“Yep,” Mac said, nodding his head. He picked up a perfectly flat stone and held it up for Jo to see before skipping it across the water. “He asked for you,” Mac informed her. “He also told me that while I was away, he was naughty.” Mac’s eyebrows rose inquiringly as he glanced at Jo out of the corner of his eye.

Jo laughed, dismissing Sam’s remark. “He wasn’t really. One night he became a little upset, but besides that he was perfect. I think he just missed you.”

Mac sighed. “I don’t like to be away, but sometimes there’s no help for it.”

Jo had been curious for a long time about Sam’s family and how it was that he ended up with Mac, a lone bachelor, as his father. “Did it surprise you…when Sam’s mother left him to you?” Jo asked tentatively.

Mac shrugged his shoulder, thinking it over before answering. “I suppose I was a little taken aback, but she didn’t have any family…and well...I was the only family Tom would claim. He grew up on the ranch next to ours, but it was a rundown operation. His father was a drunk, and his mother ran out on them when Tom was six or seven.” Mac chucked another rock across the stream then turned to look directly at Jo. “I wonder sometimes…if she would have left Sam to me if she’d known I’d killed Tom.” Mac’s words hung heavily in the air.

“You didn’t tell her?” Jo asked. Her question held no judgment, just curiosity.

“At first I figured there was no point. I bought the ranch, and she and Sam were taken care of. We no longer had Tom to connect us, so we went our own ways. Then she wrote to me that she was ill. By the time I reached her, she was already dying. It felt like the wrong time to say, ‘I put the bullet in your husband’s head,’” Mac paused briefly before continuing. “I should have told her everything when she asked me to take Sam, but…there was no one else.” Abruptly, Mac stopped talking. Several minutes passed in silence before he said with sincere eyes. “I appreciate you taking care of him…while I was gone. He has really grown attached to you.”

A current ran between them as Jo met his steady gaze. In a clear, soft voice, she replied, “I’ve grown attached to him too.” Jo stared at Mac with open, direct eyes, letting him read on her face how much she truly loved Sam, loved him…loved them.

Mac’s eyes skidded away, refusing to go down a path that would do them both no good. Changing the subject, he said, “The ranch looks good. The three of you got a lot accomplished while we were away.”

Mac’s reticence didn’t go unnoticed by Jo. She wondered about it. Wondered why he closed himself off from her. Ignoring his comment, she stepped closer to him. “Mac…” she whispered, his name expelling on a breath. “I missed you.”

Her admission dissolved Mac. “Jo,” he cautioned firmly. Shaking his head side to side, he tried warning her away, but Jo would not retreat. She could feel his resolve weakening, his aloof and distant demeanor cracking.

Boldly, she pressed forward, standing directly in front of him and gazing up at him with lonely eyes. Her full lips turned up to his, begging to be kissed.

Mac broke. He gripped her upper arms and pulled her into him, dropping his head for a soft, melting kiss. When he was away, he’d lain awake night after night, remembering the warm sweet taste of her.

“Jo…” he groaned, breaking the kiss and holding her back from him with his strong hands.

She could see the war raging in Mac’s eyes. The move had been risky on her part. Each time she pushed him, she left her own heart exposed. “Admit you missed me too,” she bargained, “and I’ll leave you be.” Her eyes teased him playfully.

Conceding, Mac crushed his mouth to hers showing her, rather than telling her, just how much he missed her.

When he pulled away, Jo’s sparkly eyes smiled up to him. “I thought as much,” she gloated smugly.

Mac grinned back at her. “Come on, braggart,” he exhaled shakily, squatting down to pick up Jo’s shoes. “It’s getting dark.”

Jo slipped her shoes on and followed Mac to General. He mounted and then holding Jo’s hand helped her to swing up behind him. Without any direction from him, she slid her arms around his flat, lean waist and rested her cheek against his back. The embrace was pure exquisite torture for Mac, and he never wanted it to end. On the ride back to the ranch, he scolded himself again. When would he ever learn that he was no match for her?

***

Early the next morning, the men rode out to search Mac’s property and hunt up a still, if there was one, leaving Jo and Mattie behind to worry. Hours later, the group rode back in with news. Sheriff Waters had been right. Someone was rum-running over on the northwest edge of Mac’s property. They’d hidden it well, and if wasn’t for one piece of broken glass sparkling in the sunlight, Mac would have never found it. A slight trail led from the hideaway, and they’d followed it all the way down to the road. Everything came together clearly for Mac. It was an easy drive down that road to the state line where a seedy little joint sold moonshine out its back door. The law didn’t harass most Montanans for making liquor in their homes, but selling it was a different story. Only two months ago, there was a ruckus near Great Falls, when federal authorities arrested upwards of twenty people, not all of them men, for selling liquor that came down “Bootlegger Trail” from Canada.