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

He loaded the truck carefully, tying the fence posts down so they wouldn't bounce around and bother Paca. A roll of barbed wire hung suspended on the outside of the stock rack and a gunny sack containing staples, hammers, cutters and a wire-stretcher was placed on the floor in the cab.

He put the truck into gear and drove away from the loading ramp, traveling relatively fast on the graveled road, slower as they turned onto the rock and dirt of the mountain section. Up ahead, Adam waited, and Jo found the anticipation both frightening and exhilarating.

"By the way, Mike..."

"Yes?"

"Adam told me about your friendship. You two kept that well hidden."

He shot her a look of amusement. "You look like a child not invited to the party. So he told you, huh? So what'd you say?" he asked, eyebrows lifted in query.

"Nothing. What could I say?"

He shrugged. "When Adam saved your life, I decided to thank him personally. Nobody else did."

"You like Adam, don't you?"

"Anyone in their right mind would. He keeps his word, which is more than you can say for half the people running around this old world. I'd trust him with my life."

"Keeps his word? He's as unreliable as a hungry bear."

"That's Gramps talking. Give me one time when Adam has not kept a promise."

"Why...." Scornful words rose from the past, bitter words that had slammed harshly against Jo's tender emotions. Adam usually hurt her, deeply, whenever they argued about Gramps. Would Karen's plan decrease...or increase his bitterness? "He never promised me anything in particular."

"I can understand why. You're so prejudiced and unreasonable."

"Oh, but..." Naturally she was extra-sensitive about Adam, even talking about him made her tense up. But she wasn't prejudiced.

"The guy's never done anything against you," Mike ground out, "and he's bent over backwards for this family, yet you snub him every chance you get. Do you remember four winters ago when it snowed so hard early in the year, and Dad and I had to dig out the herd?" he inquired.

"Yes. It took two days." She studied her brother's face, curiosity aroused. What had that to do with Adam?

"Adam came as soon as he heard, helped us rescue them."

There had not been a word about this ever mentioned to the rest of the family. No one had sent her the information. No wonder Adam accused their family of being secretive. That was an understatement.

If Gramps had been told some of this information, his animosity might have lessened and Karen and Johnny more readily accepted, Jo thought. And maybe she herself wouldn't have been so set against everything Adam did. So untrusting.

"Dad knows, too?" Did everyone except her? Someone could have texted and told her. She felt betrayed, left out of family affairs.

"Yes. He and Mr. Trahern had to work together the same as Adam and I will this morning. They ignored the situation, never talked about it, but it always hung between them. It's hard to be pleasant to someone who has killed your mother. They never could get back to the friendship they once had."

"Dad went to his funeral."

"Yes. Dad, Mom, and myself. It's too bad Gramps wouldn't go. For some reason, he got worse after Ed's death. More bitter. It's eating him up." Mike eased the truck through a rut running crosswise in the road. "We tried to talk sense into him, but he won't listen to Dad or me. Just gets mad. Mom tried once. That's when he had his first heart attack."

"I remember. It was just before I left for college. But I'm so like Grandmother Anna, I thought staying away would help him forget."

"It didn't turn out that way. He just focused his loss on the Traherns instead...as if they were the cause of all his grief. You've got to talk to him, Jo. He'll listen to you."

She nodded thoughtfully. Of those in her family, she was the only one who could reach Gramps. Now that she knew why he continued to blame Adam, she might be able to find a way to overcome that. She had to succeed. She just had to. Her decision became more clear.

A family of raccoons crossed in front of them, a mama and two babies, their eyes deep red marbles in the headlights, their beautiful fur coats rippling as they moved.

 Mike slowed down, careful not to throw Paca off her feet.

"Aren't they lovely," Jo exclaimed, sitting forward to see better. Beautiful. More so because they weren't in a zoo and no one controlled them. Free. As she would like to be, unburdened with Karen's problems, Grampa's feelings, and her own vacillating emotions.

 By the time they arrived at the gate the first pale light of dawn was streaking the sky.

Johnny waited astride a long-legged Appaloosa gelding that had a small smattering of spots across an otherwise dark brown coat. He looked the picture of a typical movie cowboy, with brightly checked red shirt, tan hat and blue jeans. No wonder he had captured her sister's heart if he met her out riding looking like that. Yet he still wasn't as handsome as Adam.

There was a worried, desperate expression in Johnny's eyes that reminded Jo of Karen's. He was as anxious as her sister, his face frozen in uncertainty. She had to talk to Adam.

"Well?" Johnny pleaded as she opened the gate to let Mike drive through.

"Like I told Karen, I'll talk—"

"Yo!" Before she could say more, Johnny sprang from the saddle, spun her around in a circle and set her back down. "G'morning, Mike," he shouted, keeping one arm around Jo, holding her against his lanky frame as he spoke.

"Hello to you." Mike answered, puzzled. "What gives?"

"Jo's going to fix everything up for me and Karen," he declared, exuberantly. "Aren't you, Jo?"

"How's that?" Mike asked, looking skeptical.

"Simple." Johnny answered for her. "Jo's going to shoot down all opposition—namely Grampa—so that true love—Karen's and mine—will win." He smiled widely, blue eyes dancing.

Johnny was jumping the gun. "Well, you see—" Jo stammered, "I—"

"She and Adam are going to get engaged, that's how," Johnny interrupted. "Once that's done, Karen and I will be accepted right off."

"Now wait a minute, cowboy," Jo protested. "I haven't had a chance to talk with Adam yet."

"I have. He's all for it."

Jo cast a rueful glance at Mike, who had suddenly taken this time to carefully study the morning star as it shone brightly in the pale sky. He looked back at her with amused understanding. "Oh," he said, letting his voice rise and fall thoughtfully as if suddenly enlightened.

"Oh...what?" Jo demanded, suspicious of his Cheshire cat grin.

"Just that this could get interesting." He nodded his head wisely. "Very interesting. You and Adam, eh? That brings up all sorts of possibilities." He rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "Uh huh. Who thought this up? Adam?"

"No. Karen did. Actually, she said I did, but I hadn't meant it that way...I mean...." Jo threw up her hands.

"Let's get shoving," Johnny said. "You can work it out later. I have to do the milking, so if you want my help...."

"We're coming."

Once in the timber, Mike started singing, and the others joined his rich tenor: "'Oh, what a beautiful morning....'"

Jo breathed deeply of the pine-scented air, enjoying the ever-changing scene as the morning light brightened. Ground squirrels sat next to their burrows, more curious than afraid and a fat porcupine reluctantly left the trail as the three came singing through, the creak of saddle leather adding music of its own. It was a beautiful day.

Jo felt her spirits lift as they always did when she entered the mountain trails. By now she was wide awake and refreshed, ready to take on anything, even Adam.

As if on schedule the birds began their early morning music session, twittering and chirping. The three stopped singing, to listen as they rode along.

They reached the fence around four-twenty. Adam stopped working and leaned on the post hole digger as they pulled up and swung down. His dog, a Queensland blue-heeler, stood nearby, ears pricked, alert and eager to work.

Adam was wearing old Levi's and boots, with a blue and black plaid shirt and jeans vest. Heavy leather gloves stuck out one back pocket and the brown Stetson again covered his jet black hair.

"Morning, Jo, Mike. Good to see you again," he added to Mike, clapping him on the shoulder. The softly spoken words of friendship stirred a longing deep within Jo to hear him speak thus to her. Would he? Ever?

Jo scanned his handsome, deeply tanned face and felt a jolt go through her—like running into an electric fence. She caught her breath. Nobody had any right to look so striking.

He was as smooth and powerful as a stag, vibrant with good health, alive with energy. And if she had problems with her breathing when she was this far away from him, then she was in deep trouble if they decided to go through with a mock engagement. She'd lose her heart, while Adam would stay untouched. Somehow she had to avoid committing herself.  

"Johnny," Adam directed, "drop those posts in the holes I've dug so far and tamp them in." He turned to Mike. "We're going to have to build a couple of free-standing posts for this stretch. The ground is solid rock."

He led Mike over to look at where he had gathered some broken poles they could use to build the bottom of a pyramidal type post.

"Next time call before you put your bull in that pasture and I'll yank mine out," Adam said.

"I thought you said you were moving him Friday."

"Next Friday."

"Next? But you told me on Thursday."

"That would've been this Friday."

"You're right. I'll call next time." They both laughed.

Adam turned to Jo, his eyes still dancing. "Bring the tool sack, would you?"

The request pulled Jo out of her state of shock and she hurried over carrying the gunnysack of tools.

Maybe she was prejudiced against Adam. She had unquestionably assigned the fault for the bulls to him. Had she misjudged him in other ways?

She handed him the sack. He took it, then caught her hand before she could withdraw, turning it over to check the scratches from last night.

"How do they feel?" he asked, looking at them, and she hoped he didn't notice her pulse racing under the sudden contact.

"Fine. Not any worse than a day of Loganberry picking."

He grinned. "Still do that?"

"Sure."

She stepped back and he released her, jiggling the sack in his other hand.

"Up to riding?"

"Of course."

He smiled, jigged the sack again as if going to say more, then nodded and turned to his work.

Jo sat on a stump near Adam's dog and watched as the two men set to work building an open pyramid out of three poles, with a solid board bottom, to act as a fence post. The bulls had failed to destroy several of the existing posts of this kind and Adam had already repositioned them.

The men moved in harmony with little wasted motion. All three were athletic and well-built, with the broad shoulders and narrow hips of horsemen. They handled the heavy posts with ease, moving with a grace and strength Jo admired.

She took advantage of the opportunity to concentrate on Adam. Although younger than Mike, he was the natural leader, good humored yet decisive, orchestrating the efforts so that they functioned as a team. Under his direction the work progressed swiftly and without hesitation. They brought enthusiasm to their job, working with zeal at the type of labor they loved, outdoors and with companions whom they respected.

As they worked, they discussed Karen's plan and the possibility of changing Gramps' attitude. Mike admitted he could think of nothing better and was fulsome with his recommendation of Jo. "She's the only one of us who can pull it off."

"That's for sure. So you're going to do it, Jo?" Adam cast her an inquiring look, his challenge like a thrown rope—with a noose on the end.

"I don't want to. Not particularly."

"Why not?" Adam lifted his chin sharply, his eyes narrowing. "Afraid of what Gramps will say? That sounds familiar."

"I'm afraid we might stir up something we can't handle."

"You willing to let Karen and Johnny try instead?"

Commitment, like a lasso, settled on her shoulders. "No. No, I'll do it. I just don't want anything bad to happen."

"Why should it? He's tougher than you think."

"How would you know? But it might work."

"Then it's a go." The noose tightened. She was caught.

She nodded.

"Good." Adam grinned. "Now the way I understand Karen's plan, our courtship needs to be out in the open to be effective. Then when we announce our engagement, Gramps will be more or less prepared."

"Good luck on that," said Mike. "It has a chance of working, but you'll have to make it realistic—and extremely convincing."

"We will," Adam promised confidently. "No problems there."

Jo studied a heart-shaped patch of lichen on a nearby rock. He might not have a problem, but she did. And Mike wasn't helping things at all. He was getting Adam primed and ready. Last night Adam had said he would collect on the many debts she owed him. What if he called in all his markers?

"Gramps is a suspicious old devil. He won't be fooled if he suspects anything not ringing true. You'll have to do the love scenes over and over," Mike added mischievously, as they finished and prepared to leave.

CHAPTER FIVE

Alone with Adam. It was what Jo wanted, yet did not want.  With the fence work finished at five-thirty, Johnny left them, followed shortly by Mike, who accepted Adam's off-hand assurance that he wasn't needed to separate the herds.

Jo eased herself into the saddle, her legs still stiff and sore from yesterday's outing. "You go first," she told Adam. "Since they're on your land, you'll know where they'll most likely be."

With a flashing grin and a flick of a gloved finger to his hat brim, Adam rode off down the trail into the timber, his mottled-gray dog, Murray, following like an extension of his master.

Jo lifted the reins in an imperceptible signal and Paca obediently moved out, ears pointed forward, eager to go, instantly responsive. They rode silently for some time, single file because of the narrow trail, each encompassed with his own thoughts. It was peaceful in the woods, and cares had a way of floating away, but Jo continued to worry.