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Leaving the stuffiness of the barn, Caleb shut the double doors and breathed in the cool evening air. His first day on the ranch had mirrored those of his youth on his father’s farm. He’d repaired the roofs on the house and barn and mended a hole in the loft. Jennie had told him at supper they would go round up the calves from off their range in two days. The delay before dealing with the herd suited Caleb just fine. Though he hadn’t taken to farming, even with his own parcel of land, he preferred those familiar tasks over wrangling cattle.
A series of gunshots to his left made him spin around and reach for his holster out of habit before remembering he’d stowed his guns in his room. Then he saw Will, shooting at cans along the fence line.
Taking off his hat, Caleb wiped at the sweat on his forehead with his shirtsleeve and strode toward the boy. Four cans sat in a row on the top rail of the fence. The scene provoked memories of countless evenings spent shooting targets with his uncle.
“How many did you hit?” Caleb asked.
Will frowned. “None.”
“Let’s see.”
The boy reloaded his revolver and aimed. He fired all six rounds at the cans, but every shot missed its mark.
“I can’t even shoot one.” Will growled in disgust and started for the house.
“Hold up, Will.” Caleb motioned him back. “Try it again, but this time remember to relax. If you’re too stiff, you’re going to jerk and that throws your aim off.”
With a sigh, Will stalked over to him. He reloaded his gun and lifted his arm.
“You relaxed?”
“I guess so.”
Caleb studied the boy’s stance. “Let your shoulders drop a little more.” Will obeyed. “Now make sure you bury your first sight in the second one when you aim.”
Will stared down the barrel of the gun and adjusted the height of his arm.
“All right,” Caleb said with a nod. “Take a nice even breath, and when you feel ready, go ahead.”
Will fired the revolver and a can flew into the air. “I got one.” He grinned at Caleb over his shoulder before shooting again. This time the bullet flew wild. “What’d I do wrong that time?”
Caleb chuckled. “You just gotta practice relaxing and getting your sights lined up. Then you’ll be able to hit all four cans in seconds. May I?” He extended his hand toward Will’s gun.
“Sure.” The boy placed the gun in Caleb’s grasp. “You wanna try all four?”
“You bet. I’ve got to show you how’s it done.”
Will slipped between the fence posts to retrieve the can he’d hit. He set it up beside the others and returned to Caleb’s side.
Caleb aimed the gun at the first can, his eyes narrowing. His mind cleared and instinct replaced thoughts. He squeezed the trigger and shot the first can from the post with a satisfying crack of metal on metal. He dropped the second and third cans just as quickly.
He paused for a split second to readjust his aim and squeezed the trigger, but the last can shot up into the air before he could hit it. His bullet sailed over the empty fence post. Turning his head, he saw Jennie lower her pistol to her side, a pleased smile on her face.
“Thought I needed some help?” he teased.
“No. I thought I’d join in the fun.” She walked over to them.
“Caleb was helping me,” Will said. “I even hit a can off myself.”
“That’s great, Will.” Jennie glanced from him to Caleb. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” He liked the note of admiration he heard in her question.
“My uncle was a sheriff up north. Whenever he came to visit, he’d take me out back and make me target practice until we couldn’t see the cans in the dark.” Caleb passed the revolver back to Will. “Keep at it, Will, and you’ll be a crack shot like your sister.”
Will beamed and hurried back to the fence to set up the cans again. Caleb started for the house. Jennie fell into step beside him.
“Thanks...for teaching him,” she said, her voice low.
Caleb turned to see Will taking aim. “Mind my asking why you haven’t taught him?”
“I guess I didn’t see the need. He’s not quite fifteen.”
“Every young man wants to learn to shoot.” He allowed her to go ahead of him up the porch steps. “He’d probably prove to be a real good cowhand, too, if given the chance.”
Jennie clenched her jaw. He’d made a mistake telling her what to do.
“Not that I want him taking over my job, mind you,” Caleb quickly added with a smile.
Her face relaxed as she stepped through the front door. “You know anything about roping?”
“Sure. I roped stumps as a child. Even caught the family dog a time or two.”
Jennie laughed as she shut the door behind them. Caleb liked the singsong inflection. He hadn’t made a pretty girl laugh in a long time.
“I meant, have you ever roped something moving?” she asked.
“You should’ve seen how that dog ran.”
She shook her head, her brown eyes still bright with amusement. “Have you used a lasso before?”
“Not exactly,” he said, “but I can assure you, Miss Jones, I can handle any job you throw at me.” Compared to bounty hunting, cattle ranching looked as simple as babysitting a bunch of cows.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Well, then. Let’s see how well you do tomorrow. You can practice with a lasso and a sawhorse.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
* * *
The next morning he opened his door to find a bright bandanna, a lasso and a newer pair of boots waiting for him on the landing. Slipping back inside his room, he tied the bandanna around his neck and replaced his old shoes with the new ones. With a slight twist of apprehension in his gut at his boasting the night before, he swung the lasso over his shoulder and headed downstairs for breakfast.
The aroma of fried eggs and biscuits greeted him as he stepped into the kitchen. He joined the family at the table, hanging his hat and the lasso on the corner of his chair. “Smells delicious,” he said. He ladled food onto his empty plate and began to eat.
“Have another.” Grandma Jones pushed the platter of biscuits toward him. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Caleb heard the snickers and caught the meaningful glance that passed between Jennie and Will. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Look, Will,” Jennie said from behind her cup. “It’s our very own mail-order cowboy.”
“What’s that?” Caleb stabbed another bite of eggs.
“A cowboy with all the right getup,” Will volunteered, “but no experience.”
Caleb wagged his fork at the boy. “I’ve got experience, boy. It just ain’t in cow handling.”
“Well, that will change in the next few days.” Jennie stood and cleared away her dishes. Instead of a dress, she wore a billowy blouse and breeches. Caleb had never met a woman who liked wearing men’s pants—his mother and sisters had always worn skirts or dresses, even to work around the farm.
“All right, you two.” Grandma Jones frowned at her grandchildren but she couldn’t keep it up for long. The twinkle in her eyes betrayed how much she enjoyed their bantering. “Go easy on him this week.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Jones.” Caleb leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms, regarding Jennie. “I’m always game for a challenge.”
After breakfast, lasso over his shoulder, he trailed Jennie outside, trying his best to appear unaffected by his new responsibilities. The apprehension in his stomach grew and he wished he’d declined his third biscuit.
Jennie easily vaulted the corral fence, dropping to her feet on the other side, and Caleb followed suit. She went to the sawhorse sitting on one side of the corral and dragged it into the center.
“Let me see your lasso,” she said. He handed her the rope. “It’s really quite simple. The trick is to keep your wrist relaxed as you swing and then extend your arm toward the sawhorse as you release.”
She held the coils of rope in one hand as she spun the looped end over her head with the other. In one fluid motion, her wrist dropped and she thrust the lasso forward. The loop sailed through the air and around the neck of the sawhorse. She jerked the rope tight.
“Any questions?”
Caleb’s jaw went slack with surprise. She made cattle roping appear as easy as walking. Embarrassed to ask her to repeat the lightning-speed lesson, he cleared his throat. “If I do have questions?”
“I’m going to start work on the fence down by the bunkhouse. You can find me there.”
Caleb watched her walk away, her long braid swishing against her back, then he straightened his shoulders and marched over to the sawhorse. “I’ve tracked down wanted criminals before, how hard can this be?” he muttered as he unhooked the lasso.
He backed up a few feet, swung the end of the lasso like Jennie had, and released. The rope flew through the air and landed in the dirt, a good six feet from the sawhorse. His second and third throws landed closer, but the only thing hitting the “cow” square on was the dust.
Several more attempts had him working up a sweat—but with nothing to show for it. Blowing out his breath, Caleb admitted he’d met his match with cattle ranching. But he’d made a promise to Jennie to work this job for six weeks, and he intended to keep his word. Somehow, he needed to figure this out. And right now, it looked as if the only way was to admit he couldn’t do this one on his own and ask for help.
He’d paid a heavy price in the past for his pride and vanity, and he wouldn’t do it again. Climbing over the fence, he headed in Jennie’s direction, hoping she wouldn’t gloat too much.
Chapter Five
Jennie pushed down on the post in her hands and secured it into the hole she’d dug. Stepping back, she scrutinized her work. Another rail, and the fence would be nearly as good as new.
Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Caleb approaching. “Have you mastered it already?” she called to him.
“I came to ask for another lesson,” he said, stopping a few feet from where she stood.
Jennie stared at him for a moment before deciding she could spare a few minutes. “One more,” she finally said, wiping her grimy hands on her breeches.
“Show me what you’re doing,” she said when they arrived back at the corral.
Caleb demonstrated tossing the lasso, but he missed the sawhorse by a foot.
“You need to rotate your wrist a little more as you’re spinning the rope, and make sure the loop is open to the sawhorse before you release.” She picked up his rope and swung it over her head, feeling the motion, anticipating the release. At the right moment, she dropped her arm and sent the loop around the sawhorse. “Did you see that?”
Caleb’s brow furrowed, but he dipped his head in answer.
“Here, we’ll try one together.” Jennie moved behind him and helped him position the coils correctly in his left hand. Stepping to his side, she placed her hand over his right wrist and let her other hand rest at the center of his back.
“Start to swing the loop,” she directed, her hand moving with his. His gaze darted to hers, and she laughed. “Don’t look at me, cowboy. Keep watching your target. On the range, that calf is going to move fast. You have to train your eye to follow the cow’s moving feet.” She waited for him to relax his wrist, then continued her instructions. “Using the forward momentum, when you’re ready, drop your wrist in line with your shoulder and let go.”
After a few more swings, Caleb lowered his wrist and released the lasso. Jennie watched with held breath as the rope flew through the air and circled the neck of the sawhorse.
“Wahoo!” Caleb threw his hat into the air.
“You’re not done,” Jennie said with a laugh. “You have to pull the rope tight or he’ll get away from you.”
He returned to her side and together they yanked back on the rope. Peering up at him, Jennie realized how close they stood, close enough to feel his warm breath against her cheek and smell the musky scent of his shaving cream. She tried to step away, but her hands were still holding the rope beneath his. Her heart began thudding loudly in her ears.
“Thanks for the help,” he said with a grin.
Jennie managed a nod. She’d never met someone like Caleb Johnson—someone kind and good-looking and irritating all at the same time. She hadn’t socialized with any young men in years—not since the family had stopped attending Sunday services. Occasionally on trips into town, she’d run across some boy she recognized from her time at church or school, but she’d been too embarrassed to strike up a conversation. She felt like an outsider, mostly because of her mother. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t found it hard to talk to Nathan that first time. Here was someone else on the cusp of society.
Nathan. Thoughts of him brought her traitorous pulse to almost normal speed.
Jerking her hands free, Jennie stumbled backward. “I think you have it,” she said, her words still coming out shaky. She forced a cleansing breath. “Keep practicing until you can do it with ease. Then come help me with the fence.” Without waiting for his response, she spun on her heel and hurried across the corral.
She couldn’t like him—she wouldn’t. Her focus had to remain on doing what she must to save her home. No charming, would-be cowboy was worth losing her ranch.
* * *
Muscles strained, Caleb held tight to the squirming calf while Jennie applied the branding iron near the animal’s rump. The smell of burnt hair filled Caleb’s nostrils, and sweat ran down his back from working close to the fire. It didn’t help that the day was unusually warm for mid-April. His clothes were now damp, dirty and speckled with blood. He wished he’d worn his old boots for this messy work, instead of the newer ones he’d been given yesterday.
It’s all for the freight business, he told himself. If he could survive the next few months, he’d never have to look at another cow rump again.
The calf bellowed and twisted in protest as Jennie put down the iron and took up her knife to cut a small notch in the animal’s right ear.
“All right,” she said, using the back of her hand to brush hair from her glistening forehead. “He’s done.”
Caleb untied the rope from the calf’s feet and released it. He jumped out of the way as the animal scrambled through the brush in search of its mother. “How many have we done?”
Jennie blew out a long breath and plopped down in the dirt. “Twenty calves in all. We had twice that many last spring. It took me and Will three days to round them all up and brand them. We’ve lost quite a few since then.”
“What happened?”
“A few died over the winter, but mostly it’s been rustlers.”
“You mean the Indians that shot your pa?” She looked up sharply at his words, so he quickly added, “Will told me what happened.”
She nodded. “They took some, yes. But I think one of the other landowners around here might be stealing from us, too.”
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “Why would you think that?”
“The Indians might want a few head of cattle here and there, but since they don’t have the setup to handle anything more, there’s no cause for them to take very many. But the other landholders...they could add my calves to their stock with no problems at all, and have the bonus of driving us out at the same time. There are plenty of folks who think I can’t handle this ranch on my own. I think someone’s trying to prove it.”
Her voice was strong and steady, but Caleb could see how tired she looked, how the responsibility for running and protecting the ranch wore away at her. A surge of protectiveness filled him and he promised himself that, for as long as he worked on the ranch, he’d help lift some of that load. But that brought up another question. Would his wages take away from the family’s ability to survive? Could they support another mouth to feed? “Can you afford to pay me?”
