Authors: Sara Petersen
Mac was well aware of Jo’s discomfort. He could feel the nerves jumping off her. He looked sideways at her, but her hat was pulled down low over her forehead, allowing him to see only the pink of her cheekbone leading to the outline of her lips.
The truck chugged out of the yard and down the narrow lane, with Jo held hostage inside. She could smell the fresh scent of Mac’s shirt, and every inch of her body that touched Mac’s was like a thousand prickly needles. Ironically, on the drive to the ranch, she’d fretted over the contact with Leif, but next to Mac’s overwhelming presence in the truck, she now barely noticed him. Seeking a less disturbing alternative, she squirmed closer and closer to Leif, trying to create space between Mac and herself.
Mac noticed her shifting away from him and leaning closer into Leif. He wondered if something more than friendship was growing between the two of them, and found the idea unsettling. Unreasonably annoyed, he widened his girth on the seat every time Jo inched away from him, forcing the contact she so obviously detested.
As the road grew bumpy and Jo was pitched forward and back in her seat, she remembered Kirby’s claim that as soon as the tractor was home, he was going to dredge the road. She mentally gave him a thrashing for not following through with his plans. Suddenly, one large boulder in the road caught under the back tire sending Jo slamming into Mac. Gripping the first solid thing she could find to steady herself, she clutched onto Mac’s concrete thigh. Realizing what she’d done, she snatched her hand back and twisted sideways in the seat, pressing her back up closer to Leif. Doing so proved to be a mistake, as Mac’s upper arm now rested in the dip of her chest. If he noticed, he hid it from Jo.
Pulling the truck to a stop, Mac leaned out the window, calling to Charlie, “How is Sam doing back there?” During the drive, Charlie had picked Sam up and placed him on his lap, wrapping his arms around him to cushion him from some of the jostling. Sam was perfectly contented, but Charlie was having a hard time of it. “The road will even out soon,” Mac called to him, putting the truck in motion again.
Jo sat quietly through the rest of the ride, fearful that any movement on her part would alert Mac to where his arm was resting. Finally, they turned off the main road onto a narrow grassy lane with wild daisies blooming along each side. The picturesque lane dipped down a dirt hill, winding its way under the canopy of pines. The rain from a few days ago puddled in the road, delighting Sam as the truck charged through, splashing muddy water high in the air. His loud squeals and giggles entertained Leif, Jo, and Mac. Before every subsequent puddle, Mac would press down harder on the accelerator, speeding the truck up to make the splashes bigger. The game was fun and distracted Jo from her uncomfortable predicament.
As the truck pulled around a corner, the grassy lane turned to pebbles, and the trees widened out. Jo could hear the hum of rushing water over the engine as the crowded black truck turned off the rocky road and parked in a patch of tall grass, shaded by a stand of leafy birch trees. As soon as the truck was stopped, Mac climbed out, holding the door open for Jo to follow. She inched across the seat, her hands carefully tucking her dress beneath her as she did so.
Mac stretched his arms high over his head, his body coiled and tight after the tense ride with Jo. For the last twenty minutes, he’d pretended he was just driving, but the whole time he had been painfully aware of the muscle of his arm and the soft chest that cradled it. Anxious to put some distance between himself and Jo, he scooped his rod and his son out of the truck bed and sauntered down the rocky slope to the beach.
The water shimmied and shined its way around huge boulders in the river, where deep pools harbored fat fish waiting to be caught. Leif carried the picnic basket and his own pole, leaving Jo to bring the blanket. She settled the bright quilt on a patch of sandy soil only ten feet from the river’s edge and proceeded to unpack the food.
The temperature is perfect today,
she thought to herself, her eyes scanning the bubbly water and rich blue sky. Sam planted himself on her lap, and Leif sprawled his long legs across the blanket next to them. Mac squatted on a large boulder, tucking the wind-ruffled corners of the blanket under its gray edge.
After the last cookie crumb was eaten and the potato salad scraped clean in the bowl, Leif picked up his fishing pole, saying to Mac, “Are you up for a small wager?”
Mac’s eyebrows raised slightly, interest piquing at Leif’s suggestion. “Whadya have in mind?” he drawled.
Leif’s eye shone like a fox about to catch his rabbit. “Man with the biggest fish of the day gets a kiss from Jo?”
Jo’s head shot up, her eyes meeting Leif’s cocky gaze then sliding worriedly to Mac. He was whittling a piece of wood with a sharp knife and hadn’t looked up at Leif’s ridiculous proposal. Calmly he replied, “Unlike you, Leif, I’ve never had to win kisses.” Now, his eyes, confident and dangerous, slowly flicked to Jo’s. “The women are always willing.”
Self-preservation at the forefront of her mind, Jo exclaimed, “I think I should have a say in whom I offer kisses to. You,”—she stood up poking her finger in Leif’s chest—“can just bet on something else!” Making a quick exit, Jo briskly swept past him, picking her way down the pebbly slope to the water.
Behind her she heard Leif say, “All right then, since Jo’s being stingy, how about biggest fish gets to drive home?”
Propping Sam on his back with his fishing pole in hand, Mac rose confidently. “Deal,” he replied, agreeing to the wager. He departed, athletically leaping from boulder to boulder with Sam wrapped around him.
Mac spent the next hour skipping stones with Sam and showing him how to cast. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Jo along the beach, as she lifted large stones and placed them in the river, forming a small pool. Curious about what she was doing, Mac took Sam’s hand and started in her direction. Jo was placing a rock when Sam came running up to the water’s edge.
“What are you doing?” he asked Jo breathlessly.
“Well,” Jo said with her hands on her hips, “I thought that if we moved these rocks into a circle we could make a little pool for fish. See…” Wrapping her arm around Sam, she bent over to peer in the water. Tiny minnows darted around the shallow pool. Sam’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Do you see them, Sam? We can try to catch them with the net Kirby made you,” Jo explained.
Anxious to get started, Sam raced to the blanket where he’d left his makeshift net, scooped it up and came sprinting back to Jo.
Quickly, Mac pulled his socks and shoes off of him and rolled his overalls up as far as they could go. As soon as Mac released him, Sam charged into the pool, splashing water everywhere and soaking not only his pant legs but the overall bib too. Jo laughed, shrugging her shoulders at Mac and his wasted effort to keep Sam dry.
As Jo held onto his tiny hand, she looked up at Mac and offered, “I can stay here and play with Sam, if you want to go do a bit of fishing by yourself.”
Unaccustomed to trusting people, especially with Sam’s safety, Mac hesitated, eyeing the rushing water and isolated forest.
Guessing his worries, Jo lifted reassuring eyes to his. “I’m a school teacher. Remember? I won’t let him out of my reach.”
He stared at Jo, studying his feelings for a minute. The water flowed around her knees, making the soft blue of her dress darker where the river gently lapped at the hem. Her face was flushed with the effort of moving the rocks, the brightness deepening the blue of her eyes, making them appear larger and more brilliant than even usual. Staring into her sincere, kind eyes, Mac felt a wave of trust flow within him, shocking him to the core. The only people he had left Sam with since he brought him home to the ranch a year ago were Mattie, Kirby, and Leif. The single other time he had left him was two weeks ago when he was forced to drive the tractor home to the ranch. With Mattie out of town, he’d had no choice but to leave Sam in Whitefish with a family friend. Even then, Mac had been nervous and on edge for days, anxious for Sam’s return home.
Inexplicably confident that Sam was in capable hands, Mac clicked his teeth and said softly to Jo while dipping his head, “Yes Ma’am.”
A soft light lit Jo’s eyes, and she beamed at his witty inference. Hurriedly, she reminded herself that he was mean, harsh, and immoral and that only an hour ago, when Leif had rudely offered her as the booty in their fishing contest, he had provocatively eyeballed her.
Jo focused on Sam and their game of catch the minnows, as Mac turned and sauntered off in the direction of some promising pools upstream, thinking to himself that it was kind of Jo to build that dam specifically for Sam. Upon further contemplation, he realized that she’d done more than that. She’d intentionally contrived a few hours of alone time for him, wherein he could fish.
Mac waded into the river and rhythmically began casting his fly through the sunshine out over the water. Like a stone warmed in rays of sunlight, gratitude stole over Mac. As the fly landed on the water and floated downstream with the current, as the vibrant sun spread its glow across his back, and as the fresh sweet wind melted into his face, Mac thought to himself,
Jo is downright thoughtful
.
***
Late in the afternoon, Mac crossed the river, a stick wedged through the gills of three hefty trout. He was fairly certain he would be the driver on the trip home. Striding toward Sam and Jo, who were still playing in their little pool, he saw them simultaneously slam their makeshift fishing equipment, Sam’s net and the empty potato salad bowl, into the water. They both came up empty. Jo and Sam circled around again in an effort to corner something. Inch by inch, Jo slowly edged her bowl toward the water. At the last second she sent it swiping into the river, bringing out a large fish flapping through the air, smacking Jo directly in the face. Squealing and dodging, she took a step back, lost her footing, and crashed into the water.
Worried she was hurt, Mac jogged to the river, then slowed as he heard her laughter ringing with Sam’s. She was still sitting on her backside in the tiny pool with Sam at her feet, her head tossed back releasing a throaty laugh. Sam’s eyes giggled with hilarity as he held his little hand out to help Jo to her feet. Reaching the water, Mac snagged the bowl out, before it could float downstream, and turned toward Jo.
She instantly colored, and the hearty laughter died in her throat, realizing Mac had witnessed her fall. Jo pulled the wet fabric away from her body, afraid of another slow perusal from him. Expecting to meet jeering eyes, she was surprised when she met Mac’s gaze and saw only amusement.
“It looks like the two of you have been up to no good,” Mac said, a full smile splashing across his face.
It was the first smile Jo had seen from Mac since meeting him. It lightened his whole countenance. Mac’s teeth gleamed brightly against his dark skin, and a dimple on the right side of his face appeared. Jo’s stomach tumbled within her, caught off guard by his handsome, striking smile. Sitting in the shallow river, with the water rushing around her, she was so captivated by his smile that she didn’t notice his outstretched hand for several seconds. Mac stepped into the pool and pulled Jo up by her elbow. Once on shore, she leaned over and promptly rang sheets of water from her dress while Mac gathered up the picnic blanket and thoughtfully wrapped it around her shoulders.
Sam, still giggling over Jo’s spill in the river, exclaimed excitedly, “Pa, did you see the fish we almost caught? It was big, but Jo fell in the water, and it got away.”
Picking him up but still smiling at Jo, Mac replied, “Oh I saw it all right. It looked like it was trying to win the bet and steal a kiss from Jo,” he gleamed, teasing her.
His lighthearted joke put her at ease, and she brightened with laughter, no longer embarrassed now that she was concealed in the blanket. “We were hoping to catch it so Sam could drive home…”
“No chance of that, Sam-boy,” Leif interrupted, coming up behind them and curiously eyeing the damp blanket wrapped around Jo’s shoulders. “Look at this monster.” He held up a huge trout for everyone to see.
With the victory decided and the weather turning cool, they called it a day and packed up to go. At the truck, Leif climbed into the driver’s seat, and Jo scooted all the way next to him in order to make room for Mac. Instead of hopping in the cab after her, he leapt into the truck bed with Charlie, pulling Sam onto his lap. Jo should have been relieved to have the seat all to herself, but instead she felt a tiny sting of…rejection? As soon as Leif and Charlie had joined them on the beach, Mac’s smile had dissipated, and he had reverted to his usual quiet, cold self. The pariah again, Jo decided to not let Mac’s shifting moods bother her, and she cuddled in her blanket, watching the scenery fly past on the way to the ranch. She was anxious to get home now so she could change into dry clothes and plant the garden with Mattie.
Chapter Seventeen
Sitting astride Major, a thick braid trailing down her back, Jo was ready for her first cattle roundup. Nerves, battling with excitement, floated through her stomach.
After the picnic yesterday, she and Mattie had planted the garden, and then she’d sought out Kirby and coerced him into coming up to her room and helping her arrange her gear for the week’s journey. He had groused and griped about doing so until Mattie had turned her smitten eyes on him, resulting in his immediate cooperation. Walking into her room, Kirby saw three changes of clothes laid out on her bed, along with her brush, some lotion, a pillow, and other unpractical items. Picking up her wastebasket, he had grumpily tossed everything in, only leaving one change of clothes on the bed for Jo. Getting the point, she then dug her things out of the basket and stacked them away neatly where they belonged.
Early this morning when they had saddled up and Jo was fastening her light bedroll onto Major, Kirby teased, “Last night when I saw all those clothes and baubles on your bed, I thought you were packing for holiday.” The dark morning hid the grin plastering his face, but Jo knew it was there.
She warned, “In two days when my hair is as wild as a mountain goat, you are going to regret throwing my hairbrush out.” All she heard in reply was a “humph,” and then they were moving out, with only the moon to light the way across the field and up onto the mountain.
Kirby and Mac led the way, followed by Leif, with Jo riding behind him, tracing his every move and hoping eagerly for the sun to rise. Charlie was still drowsy from sleep and rode quietly behind Jo, despite his anticipation at finally getting to round up the cows.
They reached the upper corral just as the sun was peeking its head over the mountain ridge. It wasn’t what Jo had expected. Steep rock walls formed a giant C, blocking any retreat of cattle from the back or sides, and to enclose the front, wood posts and rails had been built. The corral was several acres wide and several acres deep, with rolling grassy hills. Jo had been expecting a corral like the one back at the ranch, but this was a stunning, nature-made beauty. Already, a large herd of cattle grazed lazily in the middle of it.
Kirby trotted up to Jo, stopping Big Dan next to her and gesturing toward the pasture. “This is where Mac and I have been throwing out grain, trying to lure in the cattle. It looks like it worked, but we’re still missing plenty of cows. We’ll work the cows that are already corralled and then round up the strays.” Looking out over the herd, he said, “Let’s get a move on. The grass won’t last long with this many cattle grazing.”
An hour later, a hot branding iron with the letter H surrounded by a circle was gleaming red in the coals. Jo and Charlie received a quick lesson from Mac about cutting, trailing, tracking, and holding cattle, all of which Jo forgot almost within seconds.
At the conclusion of his lesson, Mac looked sternly at Jo and Charlie, ordering, “Stay away from the bulls. They are unpredictable, and neither of you are cow savvy.” Steely eyes flicking to Jo, he added, “If you tangle with a bull, you’ll lose. Your horses are cow smart. You’re not. Trust them until you get the hang of it.”
Leif, Charlie, and Jo mounted their horses and rode into the pasture. They were responsible for cutting out the cattle and leading them up to the makeshift chute while Mac and Kirby carried out the branding and steering.
After almost an hour, Jo quickly realized that she had seriously underestimated the patience required to herd cattle. She tried her best to trust Major and let him lead, but more often than not, the calves she tracked broke from her and ended up back in the herd. Frustrated but still willing, she kept at it. Finally, she managed to lead a few cows into the chute at the front of the mountain corral.
As she turned her horse and headed back out in the pasture, Mac called, “Jo, hold up.” She whirled her horse around as he jogged toward her, an irritated scowl bunching up his face. “I told you to let the
horse
lead. If you get too far up on the cow, like that last one, it’s going to stop or change directions!” Mac flung his arms in the air, gesturing angrily toward the calf that had just escaped from Jo. “If the cow is speeding up or heading in the right direction, keep the pressure on. If it’s getting edgy, back off!” he thundered, his face red and bloodshot. Annoyed, he whipped around and stalked brusquely back to his messy chore of castrating the cows.
Jo wanted to blame his livid flush on the heat coming off the branding fire, but she knew the real cause was irritation with her. Taking a deep breath, she rode out into the pasture again, trying her best this time to follow his instructions and watch the cows more closely. After successfully mustering two more into the chute, she was feeling better about herself and began working on cutting a cow and her calf from the rest of the herd. Taking a flighty left, the cow and calf tried to slip around Jo and run back into the masses. Pulling Major hard to the left, Jo tried to stop their flight. Inadvertently, she charged directly through the tight herd and close to a heavy black bull. It thrashed its horns into the grass, shaking its head side to side and snorting at her. Swiftly, she spun Major around and trotted across the pasture after the cow and calf, out of the bull’s range. Her retreat was speedy, but not speedy enough to escape Leif’s attention.
As Jo tracked the cow and calf up to the chute, Leif rode up alongside of her. “That was a bit dicey there, Jo,” he said, tilting his head toward the bull.
Sheepishly, Jo agreed, “I was trying to turn that cow and didn’t see him in time.”
Concern in his eyes, Leif warned her, “He won’t let you get away clean next time.” Jo nodded her head, soundly chastised. Pulling away, Leif galloped back across the open pasture.
It was on her next trip to the chute that Mac raised his bloody hand to flag her down and demoted her from cowboy to tail jacker. For the rest of the day, Jo was busy pushing the cows through the chute and applying the tail jack as Mac had taught her, which immobilized their hind legs, allowing him free access to slice away. It was an unpleasant chore to say the least, and Jo felt pity for every single calf when it jerked and flinched from the knife. After the calf was castrated, Mac would toss his instruments in the hot pot of water that was hung over the fire. Then pushing on the chute gate, Jo would squeeze the animal to the posts with all her strength while Mac applied the brand. After applying several brands himself, he handed Jo the iron and switched places with her. Her first attempt at branding was an appalling fail. As she stuck the iron to the animal’s hide, it jerked back violently against the chute, startling Jo and causing the iron to slip. When Mac let it go, the poor animal bolted away, looking like a double-stamped letter. The disapproving shake of Mac’s head incited Jo to focus, and the second time she was much more successful. The calf charged away from the chute with a clear encircled
H
branded on its hide.
Mac and Jo worked in relative silence for the rest of the day, conversing only when Mac asked her to do something or sharply requested that she do it faster or better. Jo didn’t think he was purposefully being short with her, just efficient. Up until now, she had never worked in close proximity to Mac. Normally, Jo was tasked with the more menial work around the ranch, like yanking cornstalks and moving hay, so she’d never seen him work in this capacity. Jo was impressed by the ease and skill with which he handled the cattle and the quiet, knowledgeable way he went about it, methodically moving from one cow to the next, always deliberate with the placement of his hands. What surprised Jo the most was that despite the brutality of the task, Mac was somehow gentle. Before steering the cow, a low whistle of air would issue from his mouth, calming the animal. Mesmerized by his lips, Jo found her own lips parting to whistle in harmony with his.
Finally, the long, hot, smelly day came to a close with the cows in the natural corral freshly worked, branded, and ready for the journey to summer pasture. Jo rested against her bedroll, legs kicked out in front of her, totally exhausted from the day’s efforts. If she was this beat, she could only imagine how the others must feel. The fire, over which a pot of beans hung, flicked its orange and red glow amongst the tuckered-out cowpunchers. Even Charlie, with his wild enthusiasm for cowboying, was drooping against his bedroll, shot from a day spent wrangling stubborn cows.
After dinner, when the fire smoldered low in the pit, Jo felt the first sliver of anxiety creep up her spine. Every crack of a twig or whisper of wind alarmed her. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake her fear of sleeping under the wide-open sky without shelter or protection. A few minutes before, she’d seen Mac and Kirby by the corral quietly talking and pointing at the ground. When they came back, Kirby had pulled a rifle from his saddle and climbed into his bedroll, the gun cuddled next to him. Obviously, the gun made her feel more secure, but it also brought to mind dangers associated with the need for it, namely wild animals.
Suddenly, a twig cracked to her left, followed by low mooing in the corral. Jo’s eyes gawked in the direction of the noise. Spooked, she peered into the darkness, wishing she had a lantern or a gun of her own. Noticing her alarm, Leif raised his hand to settle her nerves. At the same time, Mac rose from his blankets, grasping his rifle and striding toward the corral. Jo watched the shadow of his shoulders until they were swallowed up in the inky darkness.
Moving his bedroll next to Jo, Leif whispered, “You should try to get some sleep. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow.”
Jo nodded her head in the darkness and lay down next to him. Still unnerved, she remained wide awake, her eyes searching for Mac’s outline in the black night. Long after she heard the rhythmic breaths of Charlie, Kirby, and Leif, she remained alert, anxious that Mac hadn’t yet returned from the corral. Finally unable to stay open any longer, her gritty eyes drooped and closed, strained from peering into the darkness.
***
Jo was cozy and warm in her bedroll, sleeping comfortably, when she was roused from her dreams as something nudged her foot. Her eyes drifted open to find a dark, massive shadow looming over her. Recalling where she was, Jo bolted upright, scrambling backward in her bedroll. Leif’s arm draping over her flopped to the side as she moved, but still he didn’t stir. Her wide, startled eyes crashed into Mac’s. He towered above her with a cool, hard glint in his eyes. His unfriendly gaze was no less frightening than the grizzly bear she’d imagined him to be.
Mac offered the same “good morning” boot to Leif that he did to Jo, although with significant more force. Slowly stirring from his slumber, Leif leaned up on his elbows, his hair boyishly
messy, and stared up into his brother’s glaring face.
“It’s time to get going,” Mac ordered icily, glowering at Leif, before stalking off in the direction of the horses.
Leif stretched the sleep from his arms and rose to his feet, offering a hand to Jo to help her up. Grinning slyly, he hinted, “That was the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had on a roundup, toasty and warm all night long.”
Jo, who was unsuccessfully trying to escape her blankets, said nothing. She had slept soundly as well and couldn’t help but notice that her bedroll and Leif’s were intertwined. To her discomfort, she realized that she and Leif had slept close together all night long, which was apparently the reason she had slept so well. She rolled out of her blankets, shocked at her own indiscretion, and began gathering up her belongings. Gratefully, Jo didn’t have to worry long over her impropriety because Mac was pushing everyone to saddle up, clearly eager to get on the trail.
***
Mac had spent most of the previous night walking the corral, calming agitated cattle, and scanning for any signs of danger. He hated having the cows penned up in the corral, feeling that it made them vulnerable to predators. He was anxious to round up the rest of the strays and get them worked so the herd could roam in open summer pastures. After sleeping for only a few hours, he had gotten up and gone to wake the others, hoping to get an early jump on the day. Spying Leif and Jo sleeping next to one another with their blankets tangled together in the morning fog had turned his stomach sour, and before he could stop himself, he had roughly kicked Leif awake, starting the day off on a bad note. He knew Jo wasn’t promiscuous and that the state he’d found them in was more accident than not, but still it bothered him, solidifying his assumption that there was definitely something brewing between Jo and Leif.
It was about midday now, and Mac was riding point position, with Leif and Charlie as swing, and Jo at the back of the pack, flanking the lagging animals. They had spent the morning rounding up stray cows and were now leading them back to the corral to join the rest of the herd. Mac was still distracted and grouchy, remembering Jo’s contended sleepy face pressed up to Leif’s this morning.
This is why Leif should have never hired a woman
, he thought crossly to himself.
They cause problems in the herd.
Forcing the distracting thoughts from his mind, he concentrated on the small group of cattle behind him and made up his mind to avoid Jo, reflecting sourly that Leif would undoubtedly pay enough attention to her for everybody.
The next two days passed rapidly, the hurried push on the first morning having set the pace for the remainder of the roundup. They spent two more days rounding up strays and working them over in the corral before saddling up and starting the drive to the summer grazing land.