Sunday afternoon was blessedly peaceful on the Ponderosa. Cat watched Sport as he pranced around his corral. She admired the way the horse moved and still wondered at Adam's choice of mount. Even after a solid week working cattle, Sport cantered, bucked and rolled as if he'd been stabled for a month, unlike Rebel and Bobby and who stood together dozing under a tree.
Cat wandered back to the bunkhouse. Her first week of work was finally over. She'd survived. Being Sunday, most of the men were still in town from the night before. She hadn't seen much activity around the main house either. She took a long look at the large, impressive log house as she passed it. She opened the heavy wooden door, which led into the large bunkhouse. Will lay quietly on the cot closest to the door.
"Quiet out," she said as she sat on a chair beside him and proceeded to check his bandages. He'd survived three days since the goring. She still wasn't sure he'd pull through. The wounds still looked very angry.
"Sunday's always quiet around here," he wheezed. "Why ain't you in town with the rest?"
"Why? I don't drink whiskey, and I'm not too good at poker. And I'm afraid saloon girls don't hold much attraction for me." Will snorted with laughter.
"They got a few nice stores, and a might pretty church."
"Church. Hmm, It's been a long time since I attended one of those." Cat frowned and redressed his wounds one at a time.
"Adam don't think much of church either."
Cat narrowed her eyes. Why did Will have to bring him up? "I never said I didn't like it, just that I hadn't been to one lately. Why compare me to him! I'm nothing like him."
"Yeah, right. Like you pair ain't like two peas in a pod."
Cat visibly sneered this time. True, she and Adam hadn't argued as much since Will's accident. In fact, they'd seemed to form and uneasy, silent truce. That didn't mean she liked him any better as a person, or that he couldn't wait to be rid of her. She resented the protection he'd forced on her in the form of Hoss, who tagged after her most hours of the day and night. He was like the pet dog she'd dreamed of owning as a young girl.
"I don't see any similarities! For example, he's been gone since yesterday lunchtime after that blazing row with his father. I thought they were going to swing some fists. He's probably running around town with some floozy or getting drunk at the local saloon."
"So, you noticed he'd gone?" Will's weathered face crinkled into a smug smile.
"No! I didn't . . .well I did, but not because I was checking . . .I mean-"
"-You'd better quit while you're ahead, little lady."
"Here!" Cat, flushed with embarrassment, made him take a large spoonful of laudanum.
"That tastes Godawful!" Will grumbled.
"Serves you right!"
"They fight a lot, that pair," he continued.
"Well, in my opinion, Adam should learn his place. His
father owns and runs this ranch, not him. I don't understand how he can be so disrespectful."
"You wouldn't understand. You didn't see this place a few years back," Will answered. His eyelids drooped.
"What's that got to do with it?"
"Was a time that boy was in charge, in every sense of the word. That was after Mr Cartwright lost his last wife Little Joe's mother." Will's eyes slowly closed. Cat wanted to shake him awake and hear more. What was the history of the Cartwright family?
"Get some sleep," she said unnecessarily." Will nodded weakly. "I'm going to take a walk down to the lake."
"Fine." Will mumbled.
Cat went to her bunk, which was at the end of the long line of wooden beds, and retrieved a battered copy of Les Trois Mousquetaires from her saddlebag. By the time she walked past Will and out the door, he was snoring loudly.
Cat breathed in the clean, spring air and headed off toward the lake. She thought about Will's comment. Adam used to be in charge when the last Mrs Cartwright died. Had Ben fallen apart from grief? Had Adam assumed the role of the head of the family during that time? That would explain why Hoss and Joe treated him more like a father than a brother? She thought about that while she relaxed by the lake and as she tried to sleep that night.
She was still thinking about him long after she'd risen the next morning, dressed and started her work of mucking stables in the chilly blanket of dawn.
The quiet was broken soon after by raised voices coming from the direction of the main house. She recognized the deep baritones of the two eldest Cartwright men. She had a feeling Adam would be out soon, wanting his horse. She walked over to Sport's stall, led him out and fetched his tack.
The voices stopped several minutes later. Cat turned and watched cautiously as the latch on the ranch house door clicked open. The sharp sound carried through the thick fog of morning.
Adam exited the house, dressed in his usual dark work clothes with the addition of a long, heavy coat. Cat's breath caught unexpectedly as he strode commandingly toward the barn and her. Nerves, that was all. He put her on edge. The weather was almost as cold as the frosty glance he threw her as he passed her by.
"Morning, boss," she said just to spite his rude manners.
"Hmmm," he grunted.
"Sport's saddled. I thought you might be riding out early."
"Why?"
Cat arched a brow. Surely he didn't think the pre-dawn argument he'd had with his father was unable to be heard from a good distance away.
"Lucky guess." With an iron pitchfork, she scraped the last of the soiled hay from a stall and waited for his sarcastic retort. Silence prevailed for several minutes. Cat listened as he checked his rifle, packed his saddlebags and tightened Sport's cinch.
"We're going up to the Sierras. Saddle up."
"What?" Cat placed the pitchfork down and stared at him through the poor lantern light.
"Strays on the mountain." He pulled the buckles tight on his saddlebags. "The weather's turning. They need to come down."
"I thought all the cattle were down."
"Hoss spotted them yesterday afternoon. Looks like we missed some." He stopped packing and turned to face her. "There's about three dozen head up there."
"But "
"Are you questioning my orders?"
Cat looked at his tense, edgy expression. Surely he didn't mean he wanted her to go with him up the mountain? She'd planned on avoiding him as much as possible. She had Hoss as a watchdog. She didn't need another.
"No, but I'm not the best person to go up there with you. I don't know the terrain."
"I'm sure an expert cow hand like you will handle it just fine.
"But "
"I'm ordering you to get saddled up to ride with me. I'll show you the trails."
Cat looked him at him warily. She'd almost swear he seemed to want her to fight with him. Yes, that was it. He'd argued with his father and now he figured on continuing with her. Making out it was all her fault.
Well, she was made of stronger stuff. Nothing would irritate him more than if she became perfectly agreeable. She gathered her wits and lifted her chin with pride.
"Sure, I'll be right with you, boss. Come to think about it, I'd love to go up the mountain with you. Can't think of anything I'd rather do today." She smiled sweetly, turned and marched off to get Rebel from the second barn.
She'd agreed. Now why did that surprise him: almost anger him? She wasn't so fiery she didn't know when to cut her losses. But, damn it, he'd wanted her to argue. Isn't that why he'd suggested she accompany him?
No. He needed assistance moving the last of the stubborn beeves from the mountain; that was all. The fact that Cat would be more than uncomfortable in his company and especially in the bitter cold didn't have a thing to do with it. Well, not much.
The fact that Ben wouldn't allow him to build his grist mill had angered him. It was a good idea. He wondered what Cat would think of it.
"Ready."
Cat, with Rebel at her shoulder and saddled, appeared at the barn doorway. Adam looked her over and was startled by his thoughts. Was there another woman in the whole country who could look so at home around horses? Or look so appealing in men's riding clothes? He frowned.
"You're going to need a heavier coat than that," he said.
"I'm fine. This one's wool." She stood up straight and square, challenging him with those intriguing green eyes of hers.
"Don't say I didn't warn you. It's cold up there."
"I'm tough, and I love to going riding on a cold morning." He could almost here the 'so, there!' at the end of her prissy statement. He hadn't considered that it could be her only coat.
Adam watched her longer than he intended to, as she turned around, gathered the reins and stepped smoothly into her stirrup. He watched her long leg as it gracefully rounded the stallion's rump and her body as it settled into place.
She smiled unexpectedly and patted the big Spanish horse when he pranced beneath her, eager to be underway. Lit by the lantern's glow, frosty clouds of breath swirled from her mouth and the horse's nostrils, bathing both in a dreamy silver fog.
Adam loved to go riding in the mornings. He often found himself bracing against an icy wind, stretching Sport to a full gallop, racing against the sunrise. He'd never imagined wanting to share that experience with anyone. But, suddenly, at that moment, he wondered what it would be like to have Cat by his side: galloping neck and neck, trying to beat him, wanting to race against the sun's appearance with him. Adam's blood pumped a little faster.
Dadburnit! He turned and jerked the reins past Sport's ear with frustration at his thoughts. The horse protested with the sudden movement and threw his head up in alarm.
"One day he's going to knock you out, and I'm going to have to stitch you up."
He mounted, less smoothly than normal and glared at her for good measure. Was she teasing him now? Her mouth wasn't upturned, but her head was cocked to the side and her hand rested cheekily on her hip.
"That'll be the day. This horse hasn't got the better of me yet." He moved Sport out into the yard and the horse immediately moved alongside Rebel. It was annoying how their horses liked each other.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said crisply as they started their working day.
Cat was still stuck in the saddle several hours later. She faced down the terrible icy wind bravely, and pushed her wool scarf further over her nose, so the only part of her face exposed from beneath her lowered Stetson, was the narrow slit of her eyes.
It was those stormy emerald pools that bore into the back of the infuriatingly stubborn man riding in front of her. This was his doing! Dragging her out into the freezing cold to round up strays was all part of Adam Cartwright's plan to see her quit.
All morning the frowning Adam had led her on a merry chase, looking for cattle that weren't there. He wanted to see her crumple - give in! He wanted to have her fight him. Well, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. He was taking out his bad mood on her.
She'd survived just fine so far. His little obedience test was a failure. She'd continue to prove she could handle anything he was prepared to throw at her. Cat was going to survive this disgusting cold snap, even if it killed her. And it just might, she thought gloomily, as she shivered and pulled her coat tighter.
Rebel pulled moodily at his bit. The big grey was sick of being in the bleak cold. He wanted to make his way back to the warm barn. Cat controlled him as best she could, which only resulted in both horse and rider progressing sideways instead of straight ahead. Cat might have thought it comical, had she not been in such a temper!
"Keep up," Adam called in a superior tone.
"I'm right behind you!" she snapped icily.
"There's a blind draw a mile or two from here. The cattle must have moved there for shelter. There's nowhere else they could be."
"Fine!" He'd get his comeuppance sooner or later. Cat felt it. She just had to wait it out.
Adam kept Sport inching along. He knew the weather was getting worse, but he figured they could make it to the southern boundary and out with the cattle they needed to round up before any real storm penned them in.
Late in the year for snow, it was an even bet that the looming clouds would eventually break up without dumping their threatening load. In the meantime, he'd taunt Cat just a bit more. He was rather enjoying himself. His mood continued to improve. He pulled his collar up and blew warm breath against his face. A while later, he lifted an amused brow as he heard her voice call from behind.
"Excuse me, boss?"
"Yeah?" He half turned and looked at the bundled up body on the protesting gelding. Had he not known it was Cat, he would never have guessed.
"Just how far are we going? I mean, there looks to me to be a storm brewing."
Her words were breathy, caused by gulping in the cold air to talk. Adam felt childishly satisfied by her discomfort.
"Not much further now. The draw is up ahead. There's plenty of time to gather the strays and get them back down the mountain before the weather closes in." He tilted his head in a superior way and clicked to his long-suffering horse to keep going.
He knew why he found such satisfaction in antagonizing her. She'd done nothing but upset his routine since she'd arrived. She'd done as good a job as any of the men, perhaps better. Yet, he still didn't approve of women doing a man's job. That thought made him stick with his convictions.
Cat might not have any choice in the way she earned a living at the moment, but she could have if she believed in her ability in other areas and chose a different job. She'd done an excellent job on Will. Perhaps she could be a nurse.
Adam sighed as he pressed ahead toward the draw. The sooner she was out of his life, the better. What he couldn't figure was why she occupied so many of his thoughts. Why had he tortured himself by spending the entire day with her?
She'd almost killed him with the coffee she'd made earlier. She was no cook; that's for sure. He glanced at her again just in time to catch the angry, green glint from her eyes. She was a challenge. He moved on and began to whistle.
Cat, angrier and colder by the minute, felt like jumping off Rebel and slapping him. Why did he like to provoke her so? Was he still trying to prove her incompetent after she'd successfully completed the bulk of the branding and saved Will's life? If this was his way of pushing her into a battle of wills, he was going to get his wish. She'd never back down from a fight! He was a shallow, pig of a man without one redeeming quality!
Then, she remembered that day at the muddy river. He'd changed, briefly, almost letting her think he was warming to her. His light mood hadn't lasted.
Suddenly, Adam stopped his horse and held him still. Cat watched him carefully, immediately on edge. He was listening, watching. A shiver moved through her body, but not from the cold. Something was wrong. Adam held his hand up and gestured for her to remain where she was. What had he heard, or not heard?
Rebel's ears pricked and he shifted restlessly. She heard cattle lowing. They'd obviously found the strays. But Adam was worried about something else. What could it be? Cat watched him remove his saddle gun from its scabbard. She mimicked him. If there were trouble afoot, she'd be ready to back her boss up, even if she didn't like him. A cow hand backed their brand with whatever was required of them. If that meant gun play, then so be it.
Adam listened for a repeat of the sound he'd heard a few moments before. Yes, there it was again. Faint, but definitely another horse somewhere ahead of them. What worried him was that there were never wild horses up here this time of year. The only thing in front of them was the blind draw where he knew the cattle were gathered. It was also a perfect hideout for renegade Indians, outlaws or rustlers.
He'd been surprised when Hoss told him he'd seen cattle lingering on the mountain. He should have deduced that rustlers might have stolen a small herd and were hiding out while they changed brands. Upon the icy wind, he smelled faint traces of burning flesh. The familiar scent reinforced his fears. Whoever they were, they were branding cattle.
He heard another noise. This time, it sounded like human footsteps. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He had a bad feeling, and he was rarely wrong when it came to such things. He hoped Cat had sense enough to pick up on his signals. Could she even shoot? She carried a gun, but that didn't mean she could use it. Why hadn't he brought one of the men with him? This could end up being a turkey shoot, with him having to protect not only himself but Cat as well.
He slowly dismounted and tied Sport to a nearby tree branch. He turned to try and relate to Cat to get back and take cover. He was surprised to see she was sheltered against concealing rock, had had her rifle drawn and ready.
"You fool, get back further and stay out of sight. You could be killed."
"So could you. I'm not useless, I can shoot," she answered with controlled anger.
"I'm not willing to argue that point right now. Get back!"
"Fine." She moved back barely a fraction. Adam huffed in anger, but he had to turn his attention to the suspected thieves. He'd have to hope Cat had sense enough to stay put.
He moved toward the draw as stealthily as he could. He turned and saw that Cat followed him about twenty feet behind. The foolish woman! He scowled at her; an expression she took no apparent notice of.
He reached the bend in the rock and slowly looked around. The cattle were huddled up the far end. They churned nervously. He scanned the rocks and the shallow cave-like furrows in the rock. Movement. He squinted and watched carefully. A person darted around one of the boulders. He saw the glint of a gun barrel in the stranger's hand.
Rustlers, they had to be! He saw a fire with iron branding rods propped up along side it. He moved back out of sight and glanced at Cat. He couldn't face rustlers with just a woman for backup. He had to get her out of here and to safety. He started to retreat when the sound of rifle shot exploded into the cold air. Pieces of rock shattered above where he stood.
Adam flattened himself against the rock wall. He was trapped. If he tried to move back to a safer location, he'd be a sitting duck.
A second later, a succession of shots blasted from where Cat stood. Her covering fire allowed him to retreat. Adam took the opportunity and fell back to Cat's position, sheltered by both distance and thick foliage. When she stopped shooting, they were sprayed with a barrage of bullets, and both went to ground to minimize the odds of getting hit by a ricochet.
Cat's ability and courage shocked Adam, but that didn't mean either of them would come out of this alive. Did she really understand what they were up against? Cat quickly reloaded and he watched for gun spark so he could figure out from where the rustlers were shooting. He didn't have to.
"There's three that I can make out," said Cat. "Two are behind the pine tree cover forward and slightly to the right. The other one's above us on top of the rock face to your left. Watch." She took her rifle and aimed carefully. Her shot sent pieces of rock flying from the edge of a bolder high above them. A second later, a figure moved from behind the rock and blasted a shot in retaliation.
"I see him. You fire two shots. He might think we're both reloading and poke his nose out again. I'll be ready for him. "
"Got it."
Adam glanced at Cat with growing admiration. She knew exactly what was needed. She aimed at the boulder again and fired twice. The gunman appeared and Adam took a shot. They heard a yelp of pain and watched as the rifle dropped from his hand and landed uselessly onto the ground below. The man ran back from the edge, holding his arm.
"Look, the ones on the ground are moving forward."
Adam flicked his gaze back to the bushes ahead. The two men hidden there darted from behind the thick bushes and toward a shallow cave entrance. Cat and Adam hunkered low to the ground, firing when they got a clear shot. The two rustlers returned fire, but their shots sprayed wildly.
Adam kept a cool head as they ran momentarily into a clear space. He squeezed off his trigger and downed one of the men. Cat shot with him. He saw the second man clutch his leg, wounded. They stopped firing and watched as the two men scrambled to safety.
"Throw down your weapons," Adam called. "If you do, we'll make sure you get to a doctor. Otherwise, you'll die where you are."
"We're throwin' them down. Don't shoot!"
Cat moved. Adam put a firm hand on her arm.
"Careful, they might be bluffing." She obeyed him and lay low. "Stay here. I'll move up and take a better look."
"Okay. I'll cover you."
Adam felt strangely secure with that statement. He moved cautiously, smoothly like a cougar stalking its prey. He knew Cat kept her rifle firmly trained on the figures lying in the grass.
Cat's fingers gripped her rifle so hard her knuckles began to turn white. She watched as Adam approached the injured men. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. The tension crackled in the air around her. She'd never killed a man before. Were they dead? Was Adam still in danger? She kept her sights on the two figures.
Suddenly, the man to Adam's right rolled. Cat saw the glint of metal in his hand. From somewhere, he'd produced another gun! Without thinking twice, she squeezed off a round. But she was too late. He managed to fire his weapon at Adam a fraction of a second before her bullet got him. To her horror, Cat saw Adam's body twist to the left and land heavily in the grass.
In a blind panic, she ran for the group, her handgun out of her holster; the hammer cocked ready to fire. He couldn't be dead! Her heart pounded with fresh, unexpected fear.
"Get down!" She didn't register Adam's voice: her dread of the outcome all consuming.
Cat slid to a stop beside Adam's body, then gasped as he turned over swiftly, kicked her legs out from under her and fired above her head, just as another bullet shot from behind whizzed around her ears. Cat hit the ground heavily; sharp pain exploded through her skull.
"I'm shot," she mumbled to herself, as her eyes closed.
"Cat!" Adam's deep, alarmed voice was the last sound she heard.