Second Chance Cowboy (9 page)

Patrick gathered several of the men, and together they crossed the river, heading carefully toward the wagon. When they felt the edge of the gooey muck, they pulled on their reins. The water swirled over the innocent-looking sandbar, hiding the sticky quicksand.

They couldn’t pull both the wagon and the animals out at the same time. Someone would have to unhitch the wagon from the animals. Patrick was already wet from his ride on the steer, so he jumped off his horse into the swirling water. Tying one end of the rope around his waist, he tossed the other end to Wes. Then he waded out to the frightened animals.

The mules’ eyes were large and panicked when Patrick reached them. Soon, he, too, was stuck in the gooey sand, but the rope tied around his waist was his lifeline. Quickly, he untied the rope and hooked the rope to the animal’s harness. Braying loudly, the animal twisted and shook, trying to fight Patrick off.

In a soothing voice Patrick attempted to calm the animal. He climbed on the mule’s back and hollered at Wes, “Okay. Pull him out!”

Wes tied his end of the rope around his saddle horn and slowly backed up his horse, pulling the rope taut until he felt the mule easing out of the gooey sand. Soon Wes had them free and the mule trotted off to join the other animals on the bank.

The other mule was dangerously close to drowning and Patrick quickly waded back into the oozing muck. He tied the rope around the animal and climbed on the mule’s back. Wes pulled gently on the rope until it was tight. The animal screeched as if they were hurting him. Patrick’s heart ached for him, but it was the only way to save the mule’s life. After several hard tugs, the mule came free from the quicksand with a sucking plop. Feeling its freedom, the animal bucked with abandon, throwing Patrick off its back into the river!

Loud chuckles filled the air as Patrick picked himself up out of the river. His fall had been broken by the water, but his pride was sorely chipped. Looking at the mule, he cursed. “Next time I’ll leave you in there, you ungrateful son of a jackass.”

He turned to find Sabrina laughing and Buckets wiping tears from his eyes. With a mock scowl on his face, he informed them, “I wouldn’t be laughing too hard. The two of you are still stuck! ”

Patrick waded into the sand and tied the rope onto the tongue of the wagon, which was barely under the gooey sand. One horse would never have the strength to pull the wagon out, so Dan brought another horse to help. Dan threw out another rope to Patrick and he quickly tied it onto the wagon tongue.

Unable to move beyond the tongue of the wagon, Patrick called to Buckets, “Get me out of this mess.”

Sabrina, who had been quietly sitting and watching, pulled out a rope and handed it to Buckets. Buckets threw the rope to Patrick. Standing in sand almost to his waist, Patrick wrapped the rope around his chest, tying it in a knot.

“Okay, pull me out!” he yelled.

Buckets pulled, and when Patrick was close enough, Sabrina leaned down over the side of the wagon and offered her hand to Patrick.

Patrick glanced at her outstretched hand; a gleam appeared in his eye. “You know, Sleeping Beauty, I owe you one!”

The tug on her hand was just enough to send her flying over the side of the wagon into the gooey quick sand with Patrick. She landed on her back, but Patrick never let go of her hand as she came up, sputtering, to the sounds of laughter.

She threw a handful of the sloppy sand into his face. “You don’t have it in your face and hair. I do. Let me share the experience with you.”

Patrick laughed and tried to grab her hand as she plastered him with quicksand, spreading it throughout his hair. They stood waist deep in the quicksand, covered from head to toe. Patrick glanced down and noticed her shirt plastered to her body, her nipples clearly outlined through the thin material. A rush of desire flamed through him, and he wanted to pull her to him, feel her soft body conform to his. His voice sounded gruff as he asked, “Truce, Sleeping Beauty?”

“I didn’t know there was a war going on,” Sabrina replied.

Before Patrick could reply, Buckets interjected, “Will you two quit jawing and get us out of here! I hate to interrupt your party, but unless you want to buy another chuck wagon, I suggest you either get on board or get out of the way.”

Patrick glanced down. The wagon wheels were completely covered. “You’re right!”

He pulled them over to the wagon. Buckets leaned down and grabbed Sabrina’s arm, while Patrick gladly planted his hands on her buttocks and pushed her up into the wagon. She turned around and glared at him. “I don’t believe that was necessary.”

Patrick grinned. “I was just helping you into the wagon.”

He pulled himself up out of the quicksand and into the wagon. Shouting to Dan, he yelled, “Okay. Pull us out nice and slow.”

Wes and Dan checked the ropes tied to the pommels of their saddles and slowly backed their horses up, pulling on the wagon. The old wagon creaked and groaned in protest, but the wheels started to move through the thick muck. Slurps and plops filled the air as the wagon left the quicksand behind.

Patrick turned to Buckets. “How in the hell did you get stuck, old man?”

“Watch your mouth, boy. We saved your hide during that attack this morning. Me and Sabrina, we probably kilt most of them raiders. I didn’t know we had stopped in the middle of quicksand.”

Patrick grinned at the grizzled old man. Buckets was a fighter, and he always gave his opinion, whether you wanted it or not. “How many did you get?” They had found four bodies after this morning’s skirmish.

“Shucks, it don’t matter. At least two, and Miss Sabrina, she got one. I saw her.”

Surprised, Patrick looked at Sabrina in amazement. “You shot a man?”

“I had no choice. Nobody messes with this herd.”

The wagon rolled out of the quicksand and up onto dry ground. Buckets jumped out of the wagon.

“Where’s Tom? I saw he got hit.”

Buckets strolled off looking for Tom, and the other men all went back to rounding up missing cattle, leaving Sabrina and Patrick alone.

Sitting in the wagon, Patrick watched as Sabrina pushed her fingers through several holes in the canvas. “Next time you want me to ride in the chuck wagon so I’ll be safe, I hope you’ll understand when I say no,
thank you.
”

The holes were definite bullet holes and they were much too close for his comfort. Yet he had done what he’d thought was best by placing her with Buckets.

“That’s why most women stay home.”

“Some women don’t have much of a choice.” Sabrina’s blue eyes sparked with indignation.

Patrick jumped down from the wagon. There was no point in arguing with her. She was here and he would have to do his best to watch over her. He reached up to help Sabrina out.

She was dressed in Matt’s old clothes, and her drenched pants and shirt clung to her wet skin ... hugging her body in all the right places. Her nipples were hard and pointed. Every curve, every outline of her body showed through her clothes.

Desire flooded his veins. Damn him and his stupid ideas. He might have gotten even with her by pulling her in, but he hadn’t counted on how her wet clothes would affect him and every man who saw her.

In a gruff voice he said, “I think you’d better go change.”

Sabrina smiled. “Better than that, I’m going to find a hidden spot to bathe.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Patrick interjected.

The smile never left her face. “Stop me.”

P
atrick watched
the setting rays of the sun transform the sky from orange to blue as the inky darkness of night slithered upon him. He had walked a short distance from camp to escape the tensions of the day and enjoy the sunset.

Every mile seemed to get longer, harder. Harder to deal with Sabrina, harder to deal with the cattle, and low the threat of violence. Something about the attack this morning had needled him all day.

He sat on a fallen tree, his back leaning against the trunk, reflecting. The evening breeze teased him with its coolness and stirred the grass. The snap of a twig, and the crunch of leaves sent his hand to his gun handle.

Buckets walked unannounced into the clearing. “Nice evenin’.”

“That’s a good way to get killed, old man.”

“I knew you heard me.” Buckets asked, “You okay?”

“Trying to sort through this raid.”

“Me, too. You have any idea who those men were that attacked us this mornin’?”

“No. It’s bothered me all afternoon.” It’d been a hell of a day. What with the river crossing, the attack, and the quicksand, this day had lasted an eternity.

Patrick cleared his throat Maybe Buckets could help him sort out the attack. “I’ve narrowed it down to three possibilities. One, we could have made some rancher angry coming across his land, but most people would have confronted us, rather than attacked us.”

“Yeah.”

“Two, some gang was trying to steal the herd. If that’s the case, all they did was scatter it.”

Buckets made a snorting noise. “They weren’t successful; that’s for sure.”

“Three, they meant to scatter the herd. Delay us.”

Buckets frowned. “They didn’t seem confused.”

“That’s what I thought. Maybe someone doesn’t want us to reach Dodge City.”

Buckets sat down beside Patrick. “You know, I’ve been doing some thinking of my own.” He picked a blade of grass and put it between his teeth. “Seems to me there’s only one person in the county who’d gain if Miss Sabrina lost that ranch.”

Patrick tensed. “I know.” The same man he suspected of killing his family. The same man he suspected of killing Jed Callahan. The same man he believed had bought off the jury at Trey and Matt’s trial. “But we can’t prove it”

“Carson has wanted the Big C for years. Jed knew it, but never believed he would have the balls to attack him. Me, I think Carson’s about the greediest son of bitch I ever met.” Buckets paused. “I suspect Carson was trying to get to Jed through Matt.”

“Well, he was successful in trapping Matt.”

Buckets’ body went rigid. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Patrick looked at the grisly old man. The time for keeping secrets was over. “I don’t know for sure, but think Matt owes Carson money for gambling debts. That’s the rumor down at the Painted Lady Saloon. Supposedly, Jed and Matt had a big blow up there one night right before Jed was killed. Jed left without Matt. They never spoke again. Matt’s working for Carson to pay him back.”

“What? Does Sabrina know?” Buckets questioned.

“Hell, Buckets, I tried to tell her, but she didn’t believe me.” Patrick ran his hand through his hair. “She suspects me of stealing the money from her father’s strongbox.”

“No! She wouldn’t think that,” Buckets denied vehemently.

“She does. According to her, only three people knew of its location. Me, Matt, and herself. Matt’s family and would never steal. She knows she didn’t do it, so that only leaves me. Hell, I didn’t know about its location until Jed told me the night I brought her home.”

“I’m not making excuses for her, but she’s been under a lot of pressure since she came home.” Buckets tossed the blade of grass he’d been chewing and picked another. “She’s pretty confused right now and worried about the ranch.”

“I know, but she believed everything Trey told her regarding Matt—and said I was lying.”

Bucket’s brows drew together. “What did that scum have to say about Matt?”

“He told her Matt was out of town.” Patrick stood up and paced the small clearing. “She told me Trey had no reason to lie to her.”

“Maybe I should talk to her about Matt. It’s obvious Jed didn’t tell her he suspected Matt, and she hasn’t believed you. Maybe I can set her straight.”

Patrick wondered why she couldn’t put her trust in him. He had never lied to her, never intentionally hurt her; yet anytime Matt was involved, she sided against him. Patrick sighed. “You can give it a try; but I’m warning you, it’s like trying to talk to a rattlesnake.”

“Ah, Patrick. Her bite isn’t that bad. I can’t say she’s going to like hearing what I have to say, though.”

Patrick smiled. “No doubt about that. I don’t envy you one bit, old man.”

Darkness, sealed the sky and the only light was the twinkling stars from the heavens above. Nocturnal creatures croaked and began singing their nightly chorus. “I think from now on, I’m going to put extra men on night watch. I have a funny feeling that today was just the beginning.”

“I think you’re right, boy. If someone wants the Big C and knows about that loan, then they sure as hell don’t want this herd to reach Dodge City.”

“That’s what I was thinking. Keep an eye on Sabrina, Buckets. I’m worried she’ll get hurt if there’s trouble.”

“I know; me, too. That stubborn female wouldn’t stay home. Then again, maybe she’s safer with you than at home with that snot-nosed brat, Trey, sniffing around her skirts.”

“Trey asked her to marry him before we left.”

“What!” Buckets pulled his hat off and wiped his arm across his forehead. “She did turn him down, didn’t she?”

“If she’d accepted his proposal, she wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s true.” Buckets shoved his hat back on his head. “Aw, she ain’t no fool. She wouldn’t marry that little scheming bastard. I don’t know why we’re worried.”

“I hope you’re right.” But what if she did? The thought of Trey putting his hands on Sabrina filled Patrick with rage.

Buckets stood up and put his hands in his pockets “You know, Jed always hoped you two would get back together, and it seems you two sizzle every time you get close.”

Patrick frowned at Buckets. Was it that obvious? He’d tried so hard to hide his feelings from all the men on the drive. “There’s too much left over from the past for us to ever get over. She doesn’t trust me. It wouldn’t work.”

A
nother long day
in the saddle. The sun blazed in the sky, hotter than a virgin on her wedding night. The Red River was a week behind them and the thought of water or rain brought a moment of cool thoughts. At night lightning flashed across the sky and thunder rumbled in the distance, teasing them with the promise of a cool shower, but no rain had kissed their brows.

Tom came charging up, dust flying as he skidded to a stop. His eyes were lit up with excitement; his voice trembled. “Miss Sabrina, we got visitors. Mr. Patrick said you’re to get to the chuck wagon and stay with Buckets.”

“What are you talking about?” Sabrina called as Tom rode off, leaving her bewildered.

“Indians,” he yelled back at her.

Sabrina looked around. For the first time she noticed a small band of six men riding slowly toward them from the north. Sabrina’s heart gave an extra little jump as she spurred her horse in the direction of Buckets. She wasn’t really afraid, but Patrick would seethe if she didn’t obey him.

Sabrina scanned the horizon looking for Buckets and the chuck wagon. Where was that old man? He had a habit of disappearing whenever he was needed, and he was nowhere in sight now. Not knowing what to do, she simply stayed put.

Patrick would be upset, but she would only draw attention to herself if she rode past him to find Buckets. At least she looked like one of the men. Her hair was in one long braid tucked under her hat. It was the only way she could stand the long, cumbersome strands. Between the heat and the dust, it was much simpler to braid it each morning and pin it up. In her pants and shirt, she knew she looked to be the age of young Tom. Hopefully the Indians would think so, too.

Six proud men rode up bareback on their ponies, their long black hair blowing freely in the hot breeze. Halting their horses, the Indians sat and stared at the cowhands who had lined up behind Patrick. The battle lines had been drawn, and Sabrina anxiously waited to see who would make the first move.

Finally the tallest man swung off his horse, his long powerful legs carrying him the few steps to Patrick’s horse. Muscles sharply defined across his bare chest, the handsome, brown-skinned man drew Sabrina’s gaze. Eyes the color of midnight were set in a face with strong cheekbones and full lips. Strength and power oozed from his body. Apprehension weighed heavily upon Sabrina as he stood before Patrick. Everyone waited.

The Indian raised his fists and beat on his chest. He screamed a loud whooping noise, then threw back his head and laughed. “Has manhood changed me so that you no longer recognize me, my friend?”

Getting off his horse, Patrick stared at the buckskin- breeched young man. “Is that you, Black Bear?”

“Yes, my friend, it is I.” Black Bear embraced Patrick. “It’s good to see you, my brother.”

Sabrina let out a sigh of relief. Patrick had spoken of Black Bear often. The Kickapoo had been a friendly tribe living in west Texas. Patrick’s family had been one of the original settlers, and he had grown up playing along the banks of Spring Creek with Black Bear.

Buckets and the chuck wagon came rolling into the midst of the meeting, coming to a halt beside the two men. “Buckets, do you remember Black Bear?”

“How could I forget the mischief you two boys were always getting into?” he called. “It’s good to see you, Black Bear.”

“We’ll set up camp early today and butcher a calf,” Patrick announced to the cowpokes. “Tonight we’ll celebrate.”

Buckets drove off, looking for a place to set up camp, sending Tom to tell Dan to turn the cattle. Sabrina watched as everything came to a halt.

Reality intruded upon her thoughts as she comprehended she had company. Patrick and Black Bear had walked off, talking, leaving the others behind. Looking up, Sabrina found five braves surrounding her, trapping her.

One of the men pointed at her breasts and spoke to the other men in his language. Oh God! Her hair was up, and she was dressed as a boy, but her breasts were not bound. Even though she was not overly large, she was definitely not the shape of a man.

The largest of the men rode up beside her. Sabrina gasped as he knocked her hat to the ground. Loosened pins allowed her long blonde braid to tumble down her back.

Five lustful pairs of dark eyes stared at her with relish.

What should she do? She didn’t want to cause a scene, but any minute now panic would send her running.

“Patrick!” she cried out in distress.

Patrick turned at the sound of Sabrina’s strange cry. Where was she? She was supposed to be with Buckets. He turned and saw her encircled by the braves, her hat on the ground, her blonde braid flowing down her back. Damn!

The braves’ hands were touching her silken hair as if it were precious strands of gold. How was he going to handle this situation without offending his friend? He didn’t want anything to spoil their reunion; but damn it, Sabrina was his.

The tallest brave looked at Black Bear and rapidly spoke in their native language. Black Bear gazed inquisitively at Patrick, laughter shining in his eyes. “Sly Fox would like to buy this woman from you. He will give you three horses for her.”

Maybe he should sell her; at least then he would have some peace. But that thought was quickly scorched as the picture of this man touching her crossed his mind. Patrick wanted to beat Sly Fox for putting his hand on Sabrina and causing the look of near-panic on her face. He carefully schooled his features, trying to appear uninterested, as if he were considering the brave’s offer. He had to get out of this without offending his friend, or giving up Sabrina.

“Tell him thanks; his offer is generous, but she’s mine.” Patrick’s voice sounded harsh to his own ears. He wanted this man away from Sabrina, now.

Black Bear translated the message to Sly Fox, who did a leisurely appraisal of Sabrina from the top of her head down to her boots. It was almost enough to send Patrick over the edge as fury surged through his veins. Again Sly Fox spoke to Black Bear in his native tongue.

Black Bear shook his head at Sly Fox, then reluctantly said to Patrick. “My friend Sly Fox is a stubborn man. He will give you ten horses and his sister for your woman.”

Patrick fought against the anger that threatened to spill over into violence. How could he turn down so generous an offer without offending the brave? He was offering his own sister for Christ’s sakes. “She is my wife, and while she has a tongue that blisters my heart, she expects my son. I will not trade her.”

Black Bear slapped Patrick on the back. “You’re married and a little one on the way. We have many reasons to celebrate tonight, my friend.”

Rapidly, he translated Patrick’s message, ending it vehemently in his own language.

Sly Fox touched Sabrina’s braid one last time and then tossed it away, riding toward Black Bear. Patrick sighed a breath of relief until he noticed the angry red of Sabrina’s face. He would certainly never hear the end of this little escapade, but it was rather amusing, now that it was over.

A
noise startled Sabrina awake
. A dark figure loomed above her. Before she could scream, a hand was clamped across her mouth. Her heart pounded in her chest and a vision of Sly Fox leaped into her mind. “Sabrina, it’s me.”

Patrick! What was Patrick doing inside the chuck wagon? “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sleeping in here tonight!”

“The blazes you are. You caused enough trouble today, telling everyone I was expecting. I’m not letting you sleep in here! What will the men think?” Wide awake now, Sabrina clambered up into a sitting position, clad only in pantaloons and chemise. She watched Patrick bump into the supplies stacked around the inside of the wagon. Buckets had prepared for any and all emergencies and the chuck wagon was packed tighter than a bride’s hope chest.