Of Peaks and Prairies (Paradise Valley Book 1) Page 4

  She scurried to the back of the wagon and hid behind it. What could she do? If she ran, they’d see her. The camp was surrounded by open prairie – there was nothing to hide behind for miles. She could try ducking into the tall grass, but how long could she stay like that? If they decided to watch the camp for a while, they’d find her in no time.

  What was Thomas saying now?

  No doubt they’d be heading her way to seek her out at any moment. She crept forward, staying hidden behind the wagon bed and strained her ears to catch their conversation.

  “Nice herd ya got here,” said Fred.

  She frowned, remembering his pleasant “company” manners. They’d always grated on her nerves. She knew what he was like behind closed doors and it was a far cry from the way he acted around strangers.

  “Thanks,” said Thomas. “And where are y’all headed to?”

  “Lookin’ for ya, as a matter a fact.” Quincey was less delicate in his speech than Fred. He always cut straight to the point.

  Genevieve could almost feel Thomas’ frown. “Is that so? What can I do for you?”

  “We heard ya got a girl with y’all. We’re lookin’ for her.”

  “A girl?”

  Fred took over, putting on his most wheedling tone of voice. “She’s my daughter, is all. We’re worried ‘bout her, and someone in Fort Worth saw her climb ‘board one of yer wagons. She’s had a li’l fit – ya know women.” He snickered before continuing. “And she’s run off in a huff. We just wanna bring her back home, safe and sound. Ya seen her?”

  There was a pause, and Genevieve’s heart beat loudly in her ears while she waited.

  “Nope. Haven’t seen a girl. Sorry to hear your daughter’s missing. What should I do with her if she turns up sometime?”

  She let out a long, slow breath.

  There was tension in Fred’s voice when he responded. “Ya sure, now? We’d really like to take a look in them schooners, if ya don’t mind. She might be hidin’ out somewheres.”

  “Sorry, can’t help you there, I’m afraid. I can assure you, though – we’ve rifled through every last inch of our wagons since we left Fort Worth. There’s no chance someone’s been hiding out all that time.”

  “If ya do see her, you send her home, ya hear me?” Quincey’s temper was rising, and Genevieve had to bite her tongue to stop herself from crying out in fear. “She’s my wife, dammit! I got rights as a husband and I intend to find her. If yer lyin’ to us, ya’ll pay.”

  Thomas didn’t reply. She heard footsteps, followed by the clapping of horse hooves against the hard ground as the two intruders returned south in a hurry.

  She stood straight and crept out from behind the wagon, her eyes wide with fright. She saw Thomas standing near the campfire, his hands on his hips, his face dark as thunder. The other cowboys remained seated in a semicircle, eating. Their wary eyes exchanged glances behind his back.

  He turned and looked at her, and his eyes snapped with anger. “Genny!”

  He strode toward her. “Yes, Tom.”

  “Come with me.” He led her from the camp, and they stood together in the midst of the blowing prairie grasses. Genevieve pushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. She waited for Thomas to speak.

  “Was that man your husband?” he asked. He rubbed his forehead with one hand and rested the other on his hip. His chestnut curls, free of the Stetson for a rare moment, billowed in the wind, falling across his blue eyes. His jaw clenched and Genevieve found herself wishing she could reach up to caress it.

  She shivered. “Yes.”

  He groaned and rubbed his eyes vigorously, then caught her gaze again. “You’re married? That might have been a good thing to know before we left Texas, don’t you think?”

  “Sorry.” She mumbled the word, and it was caught on the wind and whipped away from her lips across the open plains. She dropped her eyes to the ground below, rubbing her sweat-covered palms up and down the sides of her skirts.

  “Sorry? What am I supposed to do with you now? Your father and your husband were both here demanding that we send you back with them. I lied to their faces, in the hope that you’d have some kind of explanation for this. Do you?”

  She shook her head, still staring at her feet. “I don’t. I just wanted to leave, that’s all. Please don’t send me back. I don’t want to go back to Texas, I want to stay with you. Haven’t I been doing a good job, helping Cookie?”

  “Yes, you’ve been doing fine, but it’s not about that. We had no right to take you away from your husband and father. I could get in a lot of trouble, do you realize that? If the law finds out we took you and lied to your family about it, I could be arrested. Did you even think about how your actions might impact the rest of us? So you had a little tiff with your husband and decided to run off. Well, you’ve cooled down now, no doubt, so you can go on home.”

  Genevieve sniffed and rubbed her hand across her nose. She didn’t want to cry in front of him, but she was devastated at the idea of leaving the cattle drive and returning home with Quincey and Fred. Perhaps she should tell him why she was on the run – that she couldn’t stand her husband and she’d been forced to marry him by a stepfather who hated her.

  Even if she did, he wouldn’t care – she could see it in his face, in his stance. He just wanted her gone. He wouldn’t trust her word over Quincey’s – Quincey was a man and men trusted other men. They didn’t trust women’s words; she had a lifetime of history and experience to prove it.

  “So,” he continued, “what do you have to say? Say something. Tell me what’s going on.” His tone softened and he placed his hands on her arms, pulling her closer to him. He stared at her face, but she wouldn’t look up. He gently lifted her chin with one finger and looked deep into her eyes. His own were filled with compassion. She shook her head, holding his gaze.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have put you in this position. It was wrong and selfish. I’ll go back. Only please don’t come with me. I know you can’t spare any men or waste any more time. You’ll never make it to Montana before winter if you have to turn back. It’s not a long way to Red River from here and I can easily find Fred and Quincey. They won’t have traveled far. If you could just lend me a horse, I’ll ride after them and I’ll catch up with them in no time.”

  Thomas’ jaw clenched as he considered her request. She knew he was thinking about the herd, the time they’d lose in returning her to Texas and the fact that it would mean an end to their chances of getting to Montana before the icy cold of winter arrived. He clenched his fists and turned his back on her. After a few moments, he turned to face her again with a look of resignation.

  “Fine. You can take Bess. She’s a gentle ride and I know you’ve had your eye on her. Consider her payment for the work you’ve done for me on the drive so far. But I’m sending Ost with you. I have to make sure you find Fred and Quincey.”

  She nodded. “I’ll return her to you somehow, I promise I will.” A lump had formed in her throat and she couldn’t speak more. She turned quickly and walked back to the campsite, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

  Leaving the campsite. Leaving Thomas. Leaving Patches, the cowboys, Sarah and Cookie. The whole idea filled her with a sadness she couldn’t shake. Why was it that walking away from Thomas seemed to be the hardest part of it all?

  Chapter Seven

  Sarah scrubbed the dried oatmeal that was caked around the inside of the pan and frowned. She had heard the commotion at breakfast from inside her wagon. She was dressing for the day after having overslept. She hurried to fix her hair, Bill doing his best to drag her back into their bed. She laughed and pushed him away when she heard the men’s voices. By the time she emerged from the wagon, Fred and Quincey were heading out of camp on their bony horses. She hurried over to Vaquero to find out what had happened.

  “Genny’s pa and her husband were here.” He said it in his soft accent in as few words as possible, the way he al
ways did.

  “Her husband? I didn’t know she was married.” He grunted and pushed a piece of tobacco into his cheek. He cupped it there, then began to chew. “Where are they going? What did they want?”

  “They want her to go back home with them. Tom told ‘em he never saw her, so they’re headed back to Texas.”

  Sarah hurried to the chuck wagon to find Genevieve. She wondered what would have caused her to run from her father and her husband. Whatever it was, she guessed that she’d need some support. She stopped still when she heard Thomas admonishing Genevieve behind the wagon. She couldn’t see them, but could hear their voices. Why didn’t Genevieve answer his questions? She just let him believe the worst. There must be some explanation that would make sense.

  She pressed herself against the side of the wagon as Thomas strode past her, his face dark. Then she ran to Genevieve’s side and took her hand. “Genny, what’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful before. My husband came looking for me. He wants me to go home, so I’m going to ride out on Bess and catch up with him.” Her face was wooden.

  “What? You’re leaving? But why did you run from him? It must have been something awful to make you leave. You can’t go back to him, you just can’t.”

  “I have to. Tom won’t let me stay.” She pulled her hand from Sarah’s grasp, picked up her skirts and fled.

  Sarah narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. There was something not quite right about this whole situation. How could Thomas make Genevieve leave? Didn’t he care about her? Sarah was certain he did – she’d seen them together. The chemistry between the two of them was electric. Of course, finding out that Genevieve was married must have been like a slap in the face to him. No doubt he was feeling confused about the whole situation. But to make her leave – that was something she couldn’t understand.

  ***

  Thomas watched as Dusty saddled Bess for Genevieve. He’d had Cookie fill her saddlebags with food and water supplies, just in case she took a few hours to catch up to Fred and Quincey. Her drab carpet bag was shoved into one of the saddle bags as well. He assured himself that Red River Station, a smattering of homes and stores located close to the crossing, was only half a day’s ride away. She’d find help there. She’d be fine.

  He was sending Ost, the seventeen-year-old wrangler who looked after the remuda, to ride out with her until she found Quincey and Fred. They had to get the herd moving; they were wasting time just hanging around the camp. She’d be fine. Fred and Quincey only had about half an hour’s head start – she’d find them in no time if she rode hard, and Ost could hurry back to join them.

  Why hadn’t she told him she was married? What had driven her to run from her father and her husband? Was it really just an argument, a lover’s quarrel? And why had she married a man so much older than she?

  He’d been right all along – having her on the ride had only complicated things. He’d been concerned she’d be a distraction to the men, and here he was spending his morning worrying about her. His men were all lined up waiting to tell her goodbye, their hats twisting in their hands as she mounted Bess and straightened her skirts over the saddle. He shook his head. A bunch of trail-toughened cowboys were reduced to feet-shifting, hat-twirling, soft-headed tender-hearts by one tiny woman.

  “Let’s go!” he called. One by one, they said their goodbyes and hurried off to mount up for the day’s ride. Finally, only he, Genevieve and Ost were left in the camp. He wasn’t sure where Cookie had gotten to.

  Thomas walked toward her, pulling his hat from his head and twisting it like every other cowboy had before him. “So are you sure you’ll be –?”

  “Fine. I’ll be fine.”

  “Because I could send Dusty with you as well …”

  “There’s really no need. Fred and Quincey could never ride well. We’ll be able to overtake them before you know it.”

  “Look, if you get into any trouble or can’t find them, just come back. We don’t move real quick.” He stepped closer, lifting his eyes to find hers. He thought he saw moisture there and her face looked rosier than usual. “Well …” He shuffled his feet, moving closer still. He lifted a hand and laid it on the horse’s shoulder beside her leg, wondering how her skin would feel to his touch. His cheeks flushed with warmth. “… goodbye, then.” He felt his heart rate increase and his breath came in short bursts.

  “Goodbye, Tom.” She wheeled the horse around and cantered away into the heart of the prairie, with Ost close behind.

  Thomas’ hands dropped to his sides and he stood watching her, his heart racing. When she was some distance off, he spun around and strode toward the herd. It was time to put her out of his mind. He had a herd to tend to.

  ***

  Genevieve pulled Bess to a halt. The mare threw her head in the air and snorted. She’d been enjoying the run across the open plains and didn’t want to stop. She pranced in place as Genevieve cast her gaze over the campsite. Ost pulled up beside her, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

  She saw Thomas walking away, his head down. The rest of the crew were out rounding up the herd. Cookie and Sarah were putting the final pieces of the camp into the back of the wagons and sealing the canvas covers closed. If she was going to follow them, she’d have to do it from a distance, since there was no vegetation to hide behind out here on the prairie. The natural dips and valleys of the prairies were hidden by the undulating fields of bowing grasses. The prairie looked as though it was flat, but it cloaked a landscape of soft hills, winding creeks and narrow gullies which could give her some protection from view.

  “Why have we stopped?” asked Ost.

  “I’m not going back to Texas, Ost.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to follow the cattle drive and sneak back tonight. You can head on back in a couple of hours. Just pretend we found Fred and Quincey and that I’m safe and sound with them.”

  “I don’t know about that, Genny … Thomas wouldn’t be happy with me doin’ that.”

  “Never mind about Thomas – I’ll deal with him. I’m not going back and that’s that.” She dropped from Bess’ back and stood waiting for the herd to move out. Ost dismounted with a sigh and slumped down onto the ground.

  Finally, Sarah’s wagon followed the herd, and then the chuck wagon with Cookie at the reins. Hours passed before they disappeared over the horizon.

  “You can go back now,” she told Ost.

  He rolled his eyes and climbed into the saddle. “All right, Genny. You sure you’ll be okay back here by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine. I won’t let the wagons out of my sight. I promise.”

  “See you soon.” He grinned and rode off after the herd.

  She swung back up into the saddle and urged Bess forward. She planned to follow them throughout the day. When they stopped in the afternoon to graze and rest the herd, she’d sneak into camp and climb into the back of the chuck wagon to eat and sleep. Cookie never looked back there after he’d finished serving the evening meal. He always joined the crew around the campfire with his bottle of mash whiskey and played cards with Dan and Chipper until he passed out on his sleeping mat. She should be able to stay in the wagon, snug and secure, for the entire night.

  Bess had eaten her fill of grass while they waited, and now she trotted forward eagerly, her head held high. Genevieve couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Thomas hadn’t been sorry to see her leave. For a moment when he stood beside her, his hand resting on Bess’ shoulder, she thought she’d seen a glint of regret in his eyes at her leaving. His jaw had clenched and he’d leaned in close. Her pulse had quickened at his closeness, and she’d urged Bess forward to get away from him before emotion overcame her.

  She couldn’t afford to develop feelings for a man who quite obviously didn’t care for her. He had a herd to drive across the country – that’s what mattered to him and nothing more. She was merely an inconvenience. If he’d really cared about her, he’d never
have let her return to Red River. And why should he care about her? To him, she was another man’s wife, one who’d lied to him and smuggled herself aboard his chuck wagon. No, he didn’t care any more about her than he did about Patches, perhaps even less. She’d have to take care of herself.

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah watched Genevieve ride away, perched straight-backed and proud on the bay mare with her carpet bag shoved inside one of the saddle bags. It was time to wash the breakfast things and pack up the camp. The herd would be heading out right away, and they’d follow in the wagons as soon as everything was packed.

  As she was about to turn back toward the campfire to collect the dirty dishes, she saw Genevieve and Ost pull their mounts to a halt way out on the prairie. Thomas had returned to the herd to lead them out on the trail, and no one else was around. Sarah was hidden behind her own wagon and she watched with interest as Genevieve and Ost slipped to the ground and stood still, surveying the camp. They were a long way off and didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so Sarah returned to her chores.

  When they pulled out, about two hours later, she glanced back over her shoulder every so often to watch the horizon. Over and over she caught a glimpse of a bay horse, or a head of black hair. Ost had returned to his place with the remuda, and Genevieve was obviously following them. She grinned and clicked her tongue to Purdy, urging him on. Genevieve wasn’t going to do as she was told after all.

  ***

  Genevieve trotted along on Bess’ broad back, keeping the cattle in view but only just. The herd moved slowly forward in a long line across the prairie. They followed the trampled trail left by covered wagons and cattle drives that had gone before them. The Chisholm Trail snaked its way through the southern grasslands. She hoped she hadn’t been spotted by any of the men, and assumed that they’d have ridden to meet her if they’d seen her. She surmised that they must have covered at least fifteen miles, which meant they’d be stopping soon.