Wyoming Wildfire (19 page)

Sibyl snuggled down into her quilts. She had felt chagrined when Burch took her decision to return to the ranch with a total lack of surprise or disappointment. She had no intention of allowing herself to be talked into staying, but his not making the attempt was disturbing. There was already enough uncertainty about the nature of his feelings for her, and this did nothing to reassure her. At least their leave-taking had been more gratifying.

She had enjoyed an evening of cowboy high jinks and intended to slip away after saying good night in the presence of the other men. “You don’t have to accompany me,” she said when he rose to go with her. “Ned can see me to my wagon.”

“I have every confidence Ned will take good care of you,” he agreed, but he came anyway. She was still miffed, and inclined to be crabby.

“You don’t care if I travel twenty-five miles across open prairie tomorrow, but I can’t be trusted to walk fifty yards in the moonlight.”

Without ceremony Burch cut through any pretense of not knowing the reason for her ill-humor. “Do you want me to beg you to stay?”

It’s just like a man to reduce everything to its most unflattering essentials, she thought, feeling aggrieved. “Nothing you can say will make me change my mind.”

“That’s why I didn’t say anything”

That was going too far. “You could at least try.”

“And give you the pleasure of turning me down?”

“Not entirely, but at least I would know I meant something to you. I’m not even sure that you’ll miss me.”

Burch spun her around and gave her a kiss so long and passionate that she had to lean on him for support.

“Are you convinced?”

“A little.”

“Would another help?”

After all, she was going to leave the first thing in the morning. What harm would one more kiss do? She clung to him a minute too long, and Burch’s eyes began to gleam with desire.

“Don’t,” she said, backing away from him quickly.

“But you said you weren’t convinced,” he replied.

“I’m convinced you want me; it’s the way you want me I worry about.”

“On any terms.” Sibyl didn’t believe him, but she crawled into bed with the delicious feeling of knowing that the man of her choice plainly desired her. She fell into a deep sleep that was to be interrupted much too soon.

Chapter 13

A thunderous rumble that seemed to come from the center of the earth dragged Sibyl from her deep slumber. At first her mind was too clogged with sleep to function, but then it began to make ridiculous suggestions such as distant explosions or even an earthquake. She came wide awake when Ned climbed into the wagon, his face as white as a sheet.

“It’s a stampede, miss, and they’re heading right for the wagon.” Scrambling to the front of the wagon, Sibyl was horrified to see a seedling mass of horned heads moving toward them at top speed. She expected instant, horrible death. Why, she asked, should she lose her life just when she had found a reason to keep it? But the stampeding animals, reaching the wagon with incredible rapidity, divided as though by plan and swept by on either side of her.

Sibyl could hear the clink of their horns as they struck against each other and scraped the side of the wagon. A terrifying ripping sound brought a scream to her lips. One pair of horns after another tore into the wagon’s canvas covering; in seconds it was in shreds, and only the upper two thirds of the wooden staves that arched above her head remained sheathed in canvas. Now Sibyl was able to look directly into the frightened eyes of the stampeding steers, only inches away from her. It made her sick with fear to think how easy it would be for them to overturn the wagon. She shouted to Ned, but her words were drowned out by the thunder of thousands of hooves pounding the dry, hard ground. As far as she could see there were animals in headlong flight away from the creek, back to the uplands from which they had come.

Then almost as quickly as it began, it was over. All that remained was a distant rumble and the yells of the cowboys trying to turn the leaders. “What happened?” she asked when the noise had almost died away and she was at last able to speak. “What caused them to stampede?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t take anything to stampede a herd. These cows are as wild as bedamned. Many a cowboy had lost his life because some steer ran off in the middle of the night with no better excuse than he didn’t like the tune some drover was singing.”

“They must have destroyed the camp,” she said, starting to climb down.

“Don’t leave the wagon, miss. They’ve been known to come back. Usually it’s at a walk, but you can’t ever be too sure with those ornery critters.”

The tension was terrible, but she didn’t have to wait very long. The weakened cows had soon slowed down and the men were able to turn them and head them back to their bedding grounds. “It’ll take them the better part of tomorrow to sort them out again,” Ned said as the milling cattle slowly settled into an uneasy quiet.

“You all right, Miss Cameron?” Jesse asked, riding up.

“I’m fine now, but I was never more terrified in my life.”

“It was good you stayed in your wagon.”

“I couldn’t have gotten out if I’d wanted to.”

“Make sure you don’t get out. The herd is settling down now, but it won’t take much to set them off again.”

“What caused the stampede?”

“I don’t know. Probably just a coyote or maybe even an owl. These crazy cows don’t need a reason to run.”

“Where’s Burch?”

“I haven’t see him since he rode off on Old Blue. Most likely he’s with Lasso. Things always get in a terrible mix-up after a stampede. You calm down and try to get some sleep. Everything’s all right now, but I’ll make sure to keep an eye on you.”

But Sibyl couldn’t calm down. She could only guess at the dangers posed by a stampede, but she was sure that nothing Burch had to say to Lasso would have kept him from seeing for himself that she was all right.

“Where are our horses?”

Ned looked at her without comprehension. “The ones that pull the wagon,” she said, agitated. The feeling that something had happened to Burch was growing stronger all the time.

They probably ran off during the commotion.”

“Can you find Mr. Randall for me?”

“It’s not safe out there.”

“Please, I’ve got to see him. If you won’t go look for him, I will.” Ned tried to talk her into changing her mind, but she wouldn’t listen to any of his arguments.

“If you can’t find some horses to pull this wagon, I’ll ride Hospitality,” she insisted stubbornly.

“"I’ll go look,” grumbled Ned. “If I was to let you go nosing about out there, knowing nothing about cows like you do, you’d probably have them on their feet again in five minutes.”

It felt like he was gone for hours, and her fears ate away at her nerves dreadfully. She had almost reached the point of setting out on her own when Ned, leading the horses, came back with Jesse hard on his heels.

“You can’t go looking for Burch,” Jesse said. “There’s no telling where he is. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

“I’m sure something’s wrong, I just
feel
it. I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

“Burch never got in the way of a stampede before, and I can’t see him risking his neck now.”

“Are you implying that Burch is a coward?” Sibyl asked, bristling.

“Of course not. All I meant was Burch is not one to get himself into trouble if he can avoid it.”

“Then why isn’t he back? Everybody else is.”

“I told you, he’s probably talking to Lasso or some of the boys. There’s hundreds of things he could be doing.”

“Something’s wrong, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

“I can’t let you go looking through those hills in the dark.”

“You can’t stop me.” Her anger flared quickly because of her anxiety for Burch. “This is my wagon and I’ll drive it myself if necessary.”

Jesse’s arguments were no more successful than Ned’s had been.

“Stay here if you like, but I’m not afraid of a few cows,” she said rudely.

“I’m coming along. I’d never forgive myself if I let anything happen to you.”

It was easy to follow the trail of the stampede in the moonlight. “Burch is going to be furious when he finds out you’ve been running about on a wild-goose chase in the dark over this ground,” Jesse scolded. “He’s probably just checking with the point riders and thinks you’re safe in camp.” Now that they were under way, Sibyl herself began to wonder if she might not have acted too hastily, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was dreadfully wrong. A boy came galloping after them before they had gone far.

“Have you see Mr. Randall?” he asked Jesse. “He’s not in camp.” If Sibyl hadn’t been so terribly worried that she would find Burch lying dead before her any minute, she might have seen a look of blazing anger flash across Jesse’s features.

“We’re going to look for him now, Jenkins,” Jesse said, with rigid control. “You go on back to camp.”

“No,” countermanded Sibyl, “come with us. It’ll be quicker if we have two people to help look. Ride on either side of the wagon and cover as much ground as you can without losing sight of us. Ned and I will stay in the center of the trail.” She mounted Hospitality; now that she was certain something was wrong, it was impossible for her to depend upon someone else to find Burch while she rode in the agonizingly slow wagon.

After a few miles the tracks began to make a gradual circle and Sibyl felt better. It meant the herd was slowing down and the cowboys were getting them under control. It also meant there was less chance of an accident. The circle continued until they had almost turned back toward the camp. Sibyl took her first deep breath, feeling a little foolish but a great deal relieved. Burch was probably storming through the camp right now looking for her. She was going to have a difficult time explaining this escapade to him—and just when he was beginning to give her credit for some intelligence.

Then she saw the silhouette of Old Blue standing perfectly still in the distance, one leg dangling uselessly beneath him.

“Burch!” she screamed in pure terror. Whipping and driving Hospitality with her spurs, she galloped recklessly over the hazardous ground. As she drew closer, she saw an oddly crumpled heap lying on the churned -up earth and her heart stopped beating. “Please, don’t be dead,” she moaned piteously. “Please, God, don’t let him be dead.”

Sibyl fell rather than slid from the saddle. She had to wipe the tears from her eyes before she could see Burch. What she saw caused them to flow even faster. Burch lay sprawled on the ground, his powerful arms and legs at crazy angles with his body. His shirt and vest were shredded, revealing ugly cuts and gashes made by flying hooves when his body hit the ground and rolled to a halt. Sibyl knelt beside him, helpless, hopeless, staring out of vacant eyes at the broken body. Profound anguish welled up within her, threatening her sanity.

Jesse and Jenkins had followed her headlong flight while Ned drove the careening wagon over the ground as fast as he dared. The first to reach her, Jenkins jumped from his horse, took one brief look at Sibyl, and knelt over the still form. He felt for a heartbeat, then put his cheek to Burch’s nostrils.

“He’s still alive, but just barely.” Sibyl could hardly believe her ears. She pulled back from the yawning abyss, hope and desperation clearing her mind and enabling her to act quickly. She realized that Burch must get immediate attention or he might still the.

“Bring Ned and the wagon,” she said to Jesse, who had just ridden up.

“How is he?”

“Get the wagon!” she screamed. “There’s no time to lose. Jenkins, you go for a doctor as fast as you can.”

“The closest one is twenty miles away.”

“Then take the fastest horse you can find, and tell him Mr. Randall has been badly hurt. Ned and I will carry him back to the ranch in the wagon.”

“What about his horse?”

“What about him?” she asked, without taking her eyes off Burch.

“His leg’s broken. He has to be shot.”

“Somebody else can shoot him; you’ve got to go for the doctor.” Burch looked so deathly pale it was hard to believe that he was still alive. Ned arrived with the wagon and they lifted him with infinite care onto the straw pallet. A shot and then the thud of Old Blue’s body against the earth would have been too much for her if she hadn’t been concentrating on Burch’s broken leg. It hung at a sickening angle, and Sibyl fought back her nausea. His left arm was also broken, but that was a clean break. It was the leg that worried her.

“Head for the nearest stream,” she told Ned. “Jesse, find Sanchez and bring whatever he has in his medicine bag. And make sure he gives you something to heat water in.”

“How will I know where to find you?”

If you can find a cow in this endless wasteland, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a whole wagon. Now go!” She rode next to Burch, thankful for the deep straw, cursing the godforsaken land for every lurch the wagon took and cursing Ned every time he slowed down to ease through some gully or swale. The minutes passed with agonizing slowness. In the dim interior, she was barely able to make out Burch’s features and was totally unable to hear him breathe. She kept touching him to make sure that he was warm. She remembered the virile strength of his lovemaking only hours earlier, and the whole nightmare seemed like a monstrous bad joke.