Jodi's Journey (6 page)

Jodi tried to nurse Josh, but he was having
none of it when he came to and saw that a woman was working on
him.

He stood up, dusted his chaps, and walked
off, giving Hunt a slight nod.

It was settled.

Jodi knew she should feel better about the
men accepting her choice, but she didn't. Heck, he wasn't her
choice either. He was all there was!

CHAPTER FIVE

Jodi tasted dust even though she used her
bandana all the time. The sun was bright, but there was still a
chill in the air. She kept her hat on to shade her eyes. Texas was
heaven in the spring with the trees budding, the birds singing, and
the brooks running clear. She loved how the wildflowers grew upon
the prairies, and how the oak and pine blended to paint a
picture.

The wagon was in good shape, as she had
remembered to grease the axles. She would rather have been riding
her horse than pulling the wagon. Still, someone had to do it, and
the wagon needed to be up front.

She heard Hunt whistling softly as they rode.
Every now and then he'd shoot her a sign that the way ahead was
trouble, or that they would turn the herd this way or that. She
understood his signs without asking. It seemed instinct took over.
She'd worked the herds many times with Clem and was familiar with
most hand gestures.

The Texas prairie was green and wet with
rivers and streams. There was all manner of vegetation about. Wild
game was plentiful. She even had an occasion to pick berries along
the way. They'd make a swell pie one evening. The men didn't know
what a treat was until they tasted her pies. She smiled. That was
something even Hunter Johnson couldn't do.

By nightfall, Jodi's nerves were tensed for
another awkward conversation with her new “trail boss”.

Perhaps if she knew him better, knew
something about him, it might be easier to get along. Despite the
fact that she didn't like him personally, he was the trail
boss.

She fixed the beans and bacon and added some
potatoes. She spiced it with hot chili peppers. She hadn't learned
to cook as well as her ma, but she could do many things with a pot
of beans.

Concho had taken her point when she left the
herd to start the next meal. As they bedded the cattle down for the
night, Hunt appointed Concho and Josh and Dutch to watch the herd
while the others ate. Then, they'd relieve Sam, Brady, and
Jose.

The other drovers rode into camp tired,
dusty, and hungry. They all washed in the bowl Jodi set up for
them, after which they lined up for their meal. Each cowboy ate at
least two helpings of her food and Jodi felt proud that she had
pleased them. They didn't talk much, but Jodi knew they were all
eyeing the new boss with curiosity. It would take a few days for
everyone to loosen up in camp, especially since Hunt had joined the
drive.

Hunt sat alone against a Willow eating and
watching the herd in the distance. His eyes seemed to scan the
horizon and beyond. Although his mind seemed constantly on the
cattle, he did notice nature too. A mockingbird sang his lonely
song at the top of a Cottonwood along the riverbanks where they
managed some shade and comfort. Frogs croaked in the distance,
creating a music all their own. Hunt seemed quite content with
nature itself, and yet instantly alert to anything out of
kilter.

His quiet, open charm seemed to mask the
private man he was. Liking him was an intriguing and unsettling
thought. Thank God day dreams were always attacked by common sense.
She had to remember who he was…

Jodi couldn't help but notice him, though. He
was, by far, the best-looking man around, and uncommonly
interesting to talk to. He instinctively knew what to do about most
anything. Herding cattle was second nature to him. She hated
admitting that she was attracted to her new boss. Hated it because
she knew what he was—a coward. If she didn't keep reminding
herself, she might forget.

Yet, he'd fought Josh and won, also winning
the respect of the men in one afternoon. How could that be? Her men
had thought the same of him when they started. What had changed
their minds? The fight alone, or was there something about this
trail boss that seemed a little different? She couldn't put her
finger on it. His mystery weaved a strange web.

As she helped herself to some beans, she
started to join the men when Hunt called to her. Another talk, was
she up to it?

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, his voice
light, but commanding.

Jodi nodded and joined him, careful not to
get too close to him; she studied him out of the corner of her
eye.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked
as she raked the beans onto her fork and pretended
indifference.

“Thought you should know we'll be getting
married in Waco. But I want stop off in Salado, see if we can round
up more men. Maybe some horse flesh, too.”

Jodi stood up, spilling her beans. “Now wait
a minute. I don't mind stopping off at Salado, but I'm not marrying
you!”

Hunt didn't move, didn't laugh, and didn't
frown, but the brunt of his stare made her still. His blue-black
gaze penetrated her. “I'm afraid that's the bargain you struck.
Besides...it's important. Men on a drive get restless; there's
always trouble with a woman along unless she's married. Once we're
married there'll be no trouble for you and hopefully no one
else.”

Jodi considered his words, and knew he was
right, but something propelled her to reject the whole idea. How
could he make getting married sound so every day?

She studied that statement a long time before
she answered, “All right, I agree.”

“Glad you finally understand.” He stared at
her with a slow burning smile.

Another thing she didn't like—he had a smile
like a rattlesnake, and she wasn't at all sure if she could trust
him.

“I think I understand, about me being
trouble, although that is not my intention. I mean, it's not like
I'm wearing dresses and trying to seduce the men on this drive. I'm
merely doing a job, too, you know. And it's rather a grand gesture
on your part, too, to even suggest marriage. I'd have never thought
of it.” Perhaps if she acted as though she appreciated his offer he
might not talk of it, and maybe even forget about it.

“There's nothing grand about it. You hired me
for this job. I aim to do it proper, but not with a female running
around camp for weeks on end with a bunch of rangy men around her
all day. So, we'll be married in Waco.”

“Why there? Why not Salado?” she asked
plainly, willing her chin not to tremble. Perhaps if she put up a
brave front, there would be less trouble with him.

“Several reasons. Sometimes a parson is hard
to find in smaller towns. Waco is good enough size we shouldn't
have any trouble there. I want to stop there to find out about the
Indian situation. Look, quit fretting about this marriage thing.
It's to protect you, and keep me from having to fight the entire
bunch of men in the process.” He explained as though she should
have thought of it herself.

Jodi became very still, fascinated by his
intellect. What manner of man was Hunter Johnson? How could he
methodically calculate every problem before it happened?

She had found him living in a shed, but he
certainly didn't seem like the kind of man to put up with that kind
of arrangement. So, why had he lived like that?

What he proposed made a lot of sense and she
was willing to do anything to get the herd through with the least
amount of trouble.

“So...now you understand. After the drive you
can high-tail it if you want. Go where you want, but as long as you
are here on this drive with me, you'll be my wife.” His voice and
statement commanded respect.

“In name only!” she quickly amended.

“That's fine by me, ma'am. It's merely one of
those precautions.”

Hunt's gaze bore into her, surprise lighting
his face. It was obvious he expected a fight. Maybe he didn't
cotton to a marriage either. She wouldn't argue the point with him.
Despite her misgivings, it made perfect sense.

She nodded curtly.

≈≈≈

That was too easy
. He didn't know Jodi
well, but he sure expected her to put up a fuss, and she hadn't.
His intended was a mystery, and he found her even more intriguing
now that she was willing.

CHAPTER SIX

With the herd going through the town of
Salado, it made it easy for Hunt and Jodi to stop to ask around
about drovers. There was a crowd of people staring as the cattle
moved through town with an easy flow. It had become a familiar site
to most townspeople on the cattle trails. No one seemed
uncomfortable with it; some even admired the horns on some of the
cows, pointing to them as they passed. Longhorns were impressive to
see even if they were plentiful on the Texas prairie.

Concho bedded the herd on the outskirts of
town and waited for their return.

Jodi had prepared a pie that morning, but she
had nothing to bake it in, so she hoped she might find someone to
bake it for her in town. Quite often a rancher's wife, or even a
farmer's wife, would volunteer to bake breads or pies for
drives.

Even though Hunt was reluctant to do so, he
took Jodi inside the saloon with him. He sensed her disgust and he
could tell she was uncomfortable with her surroundings. For some
reason, that pleased him.

He ordered two apple ciders and pointed to a
table that was vacant. Jodi slouched in the chair, fatigue seeming
to overtake her. Unaware, her mouth slid into a thin-lipped smile.
Hunt wished he could make things easier on her, but herding cattle
had never been a lady’s job.

It seemed a very peaceful town as there was
little gunplay and lots of people. Hunt relaxed a little, although
his eyes were alert and hawklike as he peered around the room.

The music was loud, but at least it was
music. Aside from a poker game going on at one table, only a
handful of men lined the bar. Some were remnants of the war, having
a sawed off arm, or partial leg, but there were a few that seemed
whole. Hunt recognized all the battle wounds; he'd seen so many. He
studied them slowly as he sipped his cider. He'd let the war slide
into oblivion. He was here about cows and horses and men, not
soldiers.

“Well, what we got here?” An old timer came
up to their table and got into Jodi's face. “Why she's a right
pretty gal when you get up close. What she doing in here,
though?”

“She's with me. So, let's leave her alone,
shall we, ol’ timer? She's pretty tuckered.” Hunt smiled at the old
man, his quiet confidence reassuring her that all was still
well.

The man nodded slowly as he scrutinized Hunt,
then scooted a chair out and sat down with them. His face was well
worn, but his gray eyes twinkled when he smiled, making him appear
harmless. Yet Hunt didn't completely relax around him. He wondered
just how harmless he actually was. The old man raked a hand through
his mop of gray-white hair and stared at her for a long minute. He
seemed mesmerized with Jodi. “What's your business here…
friends?”

Hunt figured the man was just curious and
maybe a little too nosey for his own good, but harmless, so he told
him.

“We brought a herd through town; we're taking
them north to Abilene. I need some drovers, and I could sure use
some horseflesh,” Hunt said, staring at him with interest. He knew
instinctively that the old man would spread the word.

“You'll have a hard time findin' drovers
here,” he said, staring at the cider and licking his lips.

Hunt ordered another cider for the old man
and listened. “Why is that?”

“Well, sir, the young ones are goin' to
school here, that fancy college we got. And the older ones, well,
are back from the war; they're beat and not interested in
working.”

Hunt nodded, but continued to watch the men
at the bar. “War's over, and a man has to make a living.”

“Yep, won't argue that,” the old timer said
as he shook his head.

“What about horses?” Hunt asked, ignoring the
fact that the men in this town seemed almost as lifeless as back
home.

“Now, we could talk horseflesh, I'm sure. Got
about fifty sort of wild ones, if you're of interest?” The old
man's eyes lit with life.

“I am….how much?”

“Well sir, they are fine horses, and I
couldn't take less than ten dollars. For each.” The old man watched
Hunt with an eagle eye. It seemed his left eye closed when he
talked, all of which Hunt took in with suspicion. He'd found people
with such ticks generally dishonest.

“I'd like to see them first,” Hunt said. “But
before that, I want to see if I can round up any men.”

The old man shook his head. “Well go ahead,
little good it will do you.”

After half an hour passed, Hunt finally got
up and went to the bar. He leaned toward the end, and waited. He'd
learned patience early on, and knew when to be quiet. He innocently
listened to a few conversations, mostly about how a crop did or
didn't do, or how somebody's wife was paying too much attention to
someone who hadn't gone to war.

The bartender, a tall, big man with a
mustache that looked long enough for wings, eyed him, then asked,
“What'll it be?”

“I'm taking a herd north, and I'm looking for
men,” Hunt said as he eyed the bartender in return, and passed his
empty mug to the man. “Got any milk?”

“Any what?”

“Milk,” Hunt repeated.

“This is a bar mister, in case you haven't
noticed. That cider is about all you'll get in the way of
non-alcoholic beverages here.” The utterly charmless bartender
looked Hunt in the eye and squinted. Then he moved down the bar to
fill an empty mug of beer.

Hunt waited, when suddenly the bartender
raised his less than charming voice. “Man's looking for drovers.
Anyone interested?”