The Cowboy's Orphan Bride. Lauri Robinson
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you didn’t,” she said once she’d swung into the saddle. “I told you to get a cow.”
“Well, whaddya call that?” Cecil frowned. “Where you going?”
Once she had her skirt positioned so she could sit comfortably, she scooted forward, easing the calf onto her lap. “To get its mother.”
“They won’t give you its mother,” Cecil said. “They wanted it dead so they could take the mother to Dodge.”
What she’d told Emma Sue had been the truth. She’d learned a lot from the other families she’d been farmed out to as a nursemaid. The things she’d learned came in useful every day. Including today. “Give me those egg baskets.”
“What for?”
Huffing out a sigh at his ignorance, she explained, “Because I’m going to trade them to the cattle drive cook for the calf’s mother.”
“Eggs for a cow.” He guffawed. “You’re addlebrained.”
“No, I’m not.” Unable to hold it back, she said, “You are. Eggs are a luxury to the men on a cattle drive.” More than once she’d seen people trade eggs and vegetables for beef when the drives came through. “Go in the house and get me that bucket of beans, and my apron.”
“What ya need the calf for if’n your trading the eggs for its momma?”
She closed her eyes in order to gather her temper. “Because there will be hundreds of cows out there. I’ll need the baby so the mother will sniff it out, and that will tell me which cow is its mother.”
Cecil frowned. “Well, what—”
“Just go get the beans and my apron, and hurry up! This calf isn’t going to live long hanging over this saddle.”
He spun around. Bridgette knew it wasn’t because of her. Emma Sue had shouted his name from the doorway. Loud enough it had startled her. She breathed easy though, seeing Emma Sue standing in the doorway with the bucket of beans and her apron.
“Go get them,” Bridgette said. “Don’t make her walk out here.”
She waited until he’d taken the items from his wife before she said, “Emma Sue, you go lie down now. We don’t want that baby coming any earlier than necessary.” For the baby’s sake. If it was up to her, the baby would have come shortly after she’d arrived so she could get out of this place and never lay eyes on Cecil again.
Emma Sue waved and stepped back inside the house.
“What are you gonna do with this stuff?” Cecil asked while handing her the bucket and apron.
“Just get me the eggs.” After hooking the bucket handle over one arm, she used the calf as a table. Laying out the apron, she folded the skirt in half, tucked the edges around each other and used the ties to form a makeshift bag. She then dumped in the beans.
Handing the bucket to Cecil, she hooked the strap around her neck and then took the egg baskets from him. One at a time set the baskets in the bag, trying not to smash the beans or jostle the eggs too much. They were now worth more than if she’d taken them to town and sold them to Haskell’s store. Once satisfied the bag would hold, she eased the apron around her side. “Help me,” she told Cecil while holding onto the neck strap that was tightening against her throat with one hand. “Place the bottom of the bag on the swell of the saddle. Right in the middle. Use the beans to level it so it won’t bounce about too much.”
“Use the beans?”
“Yes, they are in the bottom. Be careful, but separate the bottom of the bag enough so some beans are inside the saddle swell and some are on the outside.”
He did as she instructed. “I’ll be. That works pretty well.” He stepped back then. “But it’s a long ride to where I got that calf.”
It couldn’t be that far. He never traveled too far. “We’ll make it,” she told the calf, not Cecil, and then nudged the horse forward.
“Don’t you want directions?” Cecil asked.
If he’d found it, she’d find it. “No,” she answered. “I’ll just head toward the dust in the air.”
“That’s what I did,” Cecil said, walking beside the horse.
“You don’t say.” She nudged the horse again, desperate to pick up enough speed to leave Cecil behind.
“If’n you don’t come back, I ain’t coming to look for you,” Cecil shouted as the horse gained ground on him.
“Thank you,” she shouted in return. He most likely wouldn’t grasp the insult, but she did, and that made her smile.
“You best be back in time for supper!”
She opened her mouth to tell him there was food on the stove, but chose against it. The shout could startle the horse or the calf, and neither deserved that. The calf was newly born, and the horse had to be as uncomfortable as her. The saddle was made for a riding horse, so the tree was too narrow for the plow horse’s wide back, making it ride high on the horse’s sides, and knowing Cecil, she couldn’t imagine he’d had much concern for the animal in tightening the cinch.
Letting the horse amble along, she petted the soft fur of the calf. “Don’t worry, little one. We’ll find your momma. That we’ll do.” The notion the trail boss might not be interested in making a trade for eggs and beans crossed her mind, but she sent it packing. There was no sense in worrying about something until it happened.
By the time Garth rode into camp, one of his eyes was swollen shut and the other wasn’t far behind. Despite the mud he’d caked on, the side of his face was on fire. JoJo had found the marker he’d left and already had a fire going, thankfully. Unable to see much, he’d relied on his nose to lead him to the campsite. There was no doubt the men had settled the herd in for the night a mile or so away, as usual, and today he appreciated their competency more than ever.
“What happened to you, Boss?”
“My horse stepped on a hornet nest,” he told Bat while swinging out of the saddle. “Unsaddle her and put her up for me.”
“That looks sore,” Bat said.
“It is.” Garth tried harder to see out the eye that hadn’t been stung, but it was watering profusely, and that forced him to leave the things he’d picked up in town for Bat to collect as well. “Both packs are full of supplies.”
“Got it,” Bat said. “You need help?”
“No.” Garth spun about to make his way to the camp, but paused. “Who’s that?” Things were too blurry to make out much other than the chuck wagon and a large plow horse. Strangers of any kind visiting the camp singed his nerves almost as sharply as the hornets had stung his face. Cattle drives held no room for social gatherings. Most folks respected that.
“She brought us some eggs,” Bat said.
“This here gal needs to talk to you, Boss,” JoJo shouted the same time as Bat had spoken. “I done said it’s a fair deal, but that ain’t my call. No siree, it ain’t my call. Even if’n I’m thinking it’s a fair deal. A mighty fair deal.”
Dang near blind, one foot snagged on a rock or lump on the ground of some sort. Garth caught his balance before going down, but his frustration tripled.
“What the hell happened to you?” JoJo asked.
“Hornet nest.”
“You fall on it?”
“No, I didn’t fall on it,” Garth answered. “I put the mud on to cool down the sting.”
“You gotta tug out the stinger, not force it in further,” JoJo