The Rancher Takes a Cook (18 page)

Anna sat with her eyes closed, warm spring
sunshine washing down on her face as an even more comforting peace
soothed her soul. “Thank you, Father,” she whispered. At last, she
opened her eyes to continue reading in Psalms chapter one hundred
twenty-one.

A commotion sounded from the direction of
the men working on the other side of the wagons. The fierce bellow
of a cow pierced the air followed by shouts from the cowboys. Anna
jumped to her feet and peered over the top of the wagon. A calf
scrambled to its mama, lariat still looped around its neck. The men
gathered around something on the ground. Dread crept into Anna’s
stomach as she placed her Bible on the tail of the wagon and hiked
her skirts, preparing to hurry to where the men were standing.
Edward split off from the group and ran in her direction.

“Get the medicine kit!” he called over the
distance.

The knot in Anna’s stomach tightened as she
pulled the crate out of the back of the wagon. She skimmed the
contents and threw clean rags into the box to replace those she’d
used yesterday, then picked up the container and moved as fast as
her thick skirts would allow. Edward met her and took the crate,
allowing them both to move more quickly.

“What happened?” Her breath came in
gasps.

“It’s Miguel. A cow charged his horse. The
horse threw him and the cow got him good in the side. He’s bleedin’
somethin’ fierce.”

The men parted like the Red Sea to allow
Anna access to the man writhing on the ground. Poor Miguel lay with
his hands covering his side but not stopping the blood that oozed
over his fingers and onto the dirt. For a second, bile rose in
Anna’s throat. She forced it down with a swallow, then knelt next
to the man and reached for a rag from her medicine chest.

Working quickly, she peeled away the bloody
shirt, exposing a hole about the size of a silver dollar. She
placed a clean rag over the opening, but the moment she touched it,
Miguel cried out in an agonized tone. Anna wanted to cry with him
but kept herself focused on her work. Glancing around, she motioned
for Jacob to kneel on the other side of the man.

“Place your hand over this rag and hold
pressure on the wound. Not too hard but steady. I need to get
carbolic acid ready to clean the area.”

Jacob’s face was grim, but he did as she
asked. Anna found the glass bottle and poured some of the
strong-smelling liquid onto another cloth. A neighbor who had
worked in the war hospital explained how important it was to get
the wounds clean. The woman had told stories about men losing legs
or arms from infections, and the doctors suspected dirt as being
one of the main causes for the infections.

After saturating the clean rag with carbolic
acid, Anna eased the bloody cloth from Miguel’s side and gently
wiped the wound, squeezing a bit of the liquid into the hole. The
man groaned, his hands clasping a stick, knuckles white.

“Get a clean rag to apply pressure again.”
She spoke the order to Jacob while glancing at Miguel’s face. His
normally brown skin was white, and he labored when he breathed. Was
his lack of color from the pain or from losing so much blood? At
least the horn had punctured his right side, so it wasn’t too close
to the heart.

While Jacob held a clean rag to the wound,
Anna sifted through the contents of her box, finally finding the
roll of white bandages Aunt Lola had recommended she bring.
Ya
never know what you might need out with all those crazy cows.
The woman had spoken with a knowing look.

Anna eyed the man lying on the ground. “We
need to wrap this bandage around him to keep the gauze on his
wound.” Leaning closer, she looked into the white face. “Miguel, do
you think you can sit up?” He nodded once, but didn’t look very
convincing. Some of his ribs must be broken. One of Edward’s
boyhood friends had cracked two ribs when he fell from a tree and
experienced much pain while they healed.

With Jacob on one side and Monty on the
other, they helped Miguel sit up, while Anna wrapped the bandage
around his abdomen several times. She wasn’t sure how tight to make
it. The flow of blood seemed to increase when they sat him up, and
they needed to stop the bleeding. She certainly didn’t want to
restrict his breathing, though. He seemed to be having enough
trouble as it was. She tied it as tight as she dared then
instructed the men to lay him back down.

Anna sat back on her heels and looked the
man over. What else should she do? “He needs to stay still for a
while until that bleeding stops.” They couldn’t very well leave him
lying out in the middle of the pasture with cows grazing all
around. She turned to Jacob. “We need to get him back to the wagon
where he can rest and be more protected. Do you think the men could
carry him on a blanket?”

He nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” After
calling a few commands to the boys standing around, he helped Anna
to her feet and picked up the crate of medical supplies. “You’d
best go get a place ready for him.”

Anna glimpsed Miguel again, who was lying
quietly now, although still very pale. “Just be careful when you
move him. He’s in a lot of pain and I think he might have some
broken ribs. We wouldn’t want them to puncture his lungs.”

Jacob tugged her arm. “We’ll be
careful.”

Over the course of the afternoon, Miguel
dozed fitfully, but he was able to keep down water and a little bit
of potato broth. When Anna recommended one of the men ride to town
for the doctor, Miguel spoke up for the first time, ardently
refusing to allow the man to check him.

Monty shook his head. “He’s too hard-headed
to do anything good for him. He’s awake and breathing, so I reckon
he’ll be all right. You fixed him up as good as anyone could.”

Anna wasn’t so sure, but she held her
tongue. If Miguel took a turn for the worse, she would make Jacob
send for help. For now, the bleeding had stopped and a little bit
of color was showing in the man’s face.

By the next day, Miguel was begging to get
up and move around, but Anna wouldn’t hear of it. She put a fresh
bandage on the wound, which started a little bit of bleeding again.
The wound needed much more time to heal before the cowpuncher was
active again.

* * *

On Wednesday afternoon, the branding was
finally complete, and Jacob was worn out. He finished tying down
his bedroll onto Marshall’s saddle and stopped to look around. The
other hands appeared to be just as beat as he was, dragging
themselves through the work necessary to clean up camp and pack the
wagon.

“The boys’ll be glad we finished up early
today. Looks like they wore themselves out.” Monty strode up next
to Jacob, his reins in one hand and a bedroll in the other.

Jacob nodded. “Yep. Did we get a final count
on the cattle?”

“’Round about twenty-three hundred, I
think.” Monty’s brow furrowed a bit.

Jacob nodded, pinching his lips as he did a
mental calculation. “That’s a bit less than I’d estimated. We must
have lost more than we thought in the snow…or from rustlers.”

They stood in companionable silence for a
minute while the hands made quick work of the campsite. Anna
scurried around, directing the packing of the dishes, supplies, and
bedding into the wagon. She seemed to be everywhere at once, moving
twice as fast as the men. Did she never tire?

As if reading his mind, Monty spoke up.
“She’s quite a gal, ain’t she.” It was a statement, not a question,
spoken in an almost reverent tone. “She can cook like the Lord
himself, doctor a bloody wound, work all day and into the night,
and still looks fresh as an angel.”

Jacob stiffened. Hearing his own thoughts
come from Monty’s lips didn’t sit well. He glared at his friend.
“Stay away from her.”

Monty raised a brow, one corner of his mouth
twitching. “And why exactly should I do that? She’s not spoken for
yet. Leastways not as far as I’ve heard.”

Jacob was being goaded, but that didn’t help
his rising temper any. “She’s off limits.”

“Really? Appears to me she’s single, no one
payin’ court to her. Maybe she’s looking for a good, honest cowboy
to love. If you plan to claim her, you better git to it before
someone else does.”

Jacob’s hand balled into a fist, but before
he could start swinging, Monty clapped him on the back and
sauntered away.

Jacob was left standing with his mind
whirling. Did he plan to claim her? The ranch had always been his
priority. A cowboy’s life was hard and lonely, with long nights on
the range and not much time left for a wife or a family. He’d
always shied away from females, knowing they would only hold him
back and mess up his focus from what was really important.

Anna was different, though. She was part of
the ranch. Helpful. Supportive. But was he ready to make her his
wife?

The next week, Anna watched with a lump in
her throat as Jacob and three of the other men left to help with
the community round-up and branding. The first evening the men were
gone, Mr. O’Brien filled the void left by Jacob’s absence by
regaling the women with stories of the times he’d joined in on the
round-up.

Sitting back in his overstuffed chair with a
mug of coffee, his eyes searched the distance. “Yep, all us local
ranchers used to gather south of the Guadalupe River at Gus Konde’s
place. Each daybreak, the men saddled up and fanned out, pushing
through the brush, herding cattle to the agreed holding pen. The
calf that followed a cow was branded accordingly. Yearling strays
that had escaped the branding iron or wild, full-grown longhorns
would be divided equally among the cowboys making the round-up. The
boys called ’em Mavericks.” A twinkle touched his gaze as he winked
at Anna. “I liked to call ’em walking twenty-dollar gold
pieces.”

Each day Jacob was gone, Edward took over
the morning milking. And while Anna enjoyed seeing her brother’s
tousled hair and sleepy face first thing each morning, they didn’t
make her insides flutter like Jacob’s blue eyes and strong chin
covered by a day’s growth of stubble.

The men had been gone for five days, and
Aunt Lola predicted they’d be back today or tomorrow. This was the
perfect time to make a cinnamon cake using the precious white flour
that was so expensive in town. She usually reserved it for a
special event or an occasional Sunday dinner. But having the men
home would be a special occasion. Anna hummed as she measured out
the cinnamon.

She’d missed Jacob more than she thought
possible. Over the past couple of months, he never failed to show
up for coffee in the mornings, but other than the occasional hand
on her elbow as he helped her in or out of the wagon, he never
touched her. And he hadn’t kissed her since the day Edward had been
tied and left for dead by the cattle thieves. It was as if he were
keeping his distance on purpose. Did he feel nothing for her? He’d
shown he was attracted to her physically. It was magnetic any time
they were near each other. Maybe that’s all it was, just physical
attraction. Maybe he felt no stronger emotions and wanted to keep
her from getting hurt.

Anna swallowed the lump in her throat. It
was awful, this unrequited love. Maybe she should leave the ranch.
But what about Edward? This seemed to be the perfect place for him.
Could she leave Edward here alone? She didn’t really want to leave.
Even if Jacob never loved her, she still enjoyed his company. He
had become a treasured friend.

A commotion drifted in from the yard. Anna
poured the cake batter into a pan, placed it into the oven, and
wiped her hands on a towel. Male voices called to each other, along
with the whinny of a horse and the barking of a dog. A dog? The
Double Rocking B didn’t have any dogs, a fact she had lamented on
more than one occasion. Aunt Lola seemed to have a grudge against
the animals, so none were allowed on the property.

She strode through the house and stopped
inside the front door, touching a hand to her hair. A few stubborn
baby tendrils always loosened around her face, but everything else
seemed to be in place. She glanced down at her apron. She hadn’t
done the laundry yet this week, so she’d reused the same apron from
yesterday. It was looking a bit battle weary, covered with smudged
fingerprints and spackles of food. Oh well, not much she could do
about it now.

Squaring her shoulders, Anna pulled open the
door. The yard was full of their ranch hands, most of them
dismounted and in various stages of unsaddling horses. Anna’s eyes
were drawn to Jacob emerging from the barn, saddle bags in one hand
and bedroll in the other. A yellow dog jogged at his side, tongue
hanging out in a jolly expression. Every few steps, the dog would
lick Jacob’s hand. The second time it happened, Anna glanced at
Jacob’s face to gauge his expression. It held a look of amusement,
not the annoyance she’d expected. She couldn’t help but grin. He
was such a good man.

As man and dog approached the house, Anna
stepped to the edge of the porch and offered a warm smile. “Welcome
home.”

Jacob stopped at the bottom of the steps and
removed his hat, uncovering his tousled brown hair that could stand
a trim. The dog kept charging up the stairs and bounded right to
Anna, rubbing against her skirts to demand attention. She complied,
bending down to stroke the animal’s golden head. The dog gave her a
look of adoration, tongue lolling to the side in a contented
pant.

“I think she likes you.”

Anna looked up at Jacob, still caressing the
dog’s soft coat. “What’s her name?”

“Abigail. One of the ranchers on the other
side of town was trying to make her into a cattle dog. She’d always
bark at the worst times and almost caused a stampede once. I
offered to take her off his hands so he didn’t shoot her.” Jacob
shook his head. “She’s still just an overgrown pup, but I think
she’ll be fine once she mellows out some. May not make a good
cattle dog, but not too bad around the house.”