Samantha and the Cowboy (6 page)

“How long do we have to watch them?”

“A shift is two hours. You'll know our shift is up when the Big Dipper moves southwest of the North Star.”

The kid looked up at the big expanse of sky. “Is that how cowboys tell time?”

“Yep, most of us don't own watches. The Big Dipper's progress around the North Star keeps track of time for us.” He decided the more he explained now, the sooner Jake would let him cut Sam loose. He mounted his horse and watched as the boy did the same.

“So what do we do?” Sam asked as they nudged their horses toward the herd.

“We bed them down in three sections. We'll be responsible for watching the northern group. Just walk around the perimeter. Sing a Texas lullaby if they start to get restless.”

“You mean sing a song about Texas?” Sam asked.

Matt kept forgetting that the kid's experience was limited to one milk cow. “A Texas lullaby is when cowboys hum a soothing tune without words.”

“I like songs with words. I used to sing to Old Bess,” Sam said wistfully.

“Who was Old Bess?”

“Our milk cow.”

A cow was a cow. The kid definitely cared too much, and that could sure lead to heartache.

As they neared the herd, Matt veered toward the north and Sam followed.

“You mentioned that you haven't ever been away from home. You're likely to get homesick then,” Matt said in a low, even voice. The last thing he wanted to do was start a stampede on Sam's first watch.

“We won't be gone that long,” Sam said.

Matt shook his head, even though he thought it unlikely that the kid could see the gesture in the faint moonlight. “It's distance more than time that makes you lonesome for home. The farther you travel, the less likely it seems that you'll return home. And even when you finally…” his voice trailed off.

“What?” Sam asked.

He couldn't explain to the kid that when he got home, he didn't feel as though he'd truly returned. “I don't know why it is that when you're around, my tongue starts frolicking. I don't usually talk this much.”

“We might end up being friends after all,” Sam said, and Matt would have sworn he heard a wistful note in Sam's voice.

“It'll be better if we don't.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Because I've been charged with being your teacher, not your friend.”

“Never did like school much,” Sam retorted in a petulant voice.

Matt didn't know any boy who enjoyed sitting in the schoolroom. As a matter of fact, many of the men in the
outfit couldn't read or write. Fortunately, he wasn't one of them. He'd finished his schooling at fourteen. His father had insisted he finish before he'd sign the papers giving his permission for Matt to enlist. But Matt always thought he'd gained his real education after that.

“Matt, you promised to tell me how the ranch got its name,” the kid reminded him.

He'd hoped Sam would have forgotten his promise, but he should have known better. The kid was as tenacious as a starving dog gnawing on a bone.

What could it hurt to tell the story?

“Well, legend has it that the original owner's wife grew so lonely living on the ranch that her heart broke. She moved back east. And her leaving made the owner's heart break.”

“Why didn't he go after her?” Sam asked.

“Said he loved her too much to see her unhappy, but his heart was never the same after that.”

“I don't much like that story,” Sam said.

Matt didn't either. Like Sam, Matt never had understood why his grandfather hadn't hightailed after his grandmother and convinced her to return to Texas with him. He'd also never understood why she'd left her son behind.

“Matt, is it all right if I sing a song to the cows that has words?” Sam asked.

“Sure, kid. Just keep it low and soothing. We don't
want to make the cows skittish.”

The words to “Amazing Grace” began to float on the breeze. Sam had a nice voice, a youthful sound that reminded him of so many drummer boys, singing at night, searching for the courage to march into battle the next day.

But there was an innocence to Sam's singing that was like a balm to Matt's aching heart. Touched him. Made him glad that he'd offered his help to the boy.

He knew Jake was watching him closely. Jake had ordered him to ride drag so he could make a point: on this drive at least, Matt was no better than any of the trail hands. He was to follow orders or he'd be sent packing.

Matt was grateful that Sam seemed to be a hard worker. Together maybe they could ease their way back into Jake's good graces.

Matt didn't much like admitting that Sam's singing touched him as much as it seemed to calm the cows. Sam's eagerness to learn and please reminded Matt too much of himself at a much younger age.

He was glad Sam hadn't gone off to war. Sometimes he wished he hadn't, either.

The hours passed slowly and uneventfully. Eventually, in the distance, Matt saw the riders approaching—the next group who would keep an eye on the slumbering herd.

“All right, kid,” he said quietly. “Time for us to head back in.”

In the moonlight, he could see the kid's tired smile.

“Don't think I'll have any trouble going to sleep this time,” Sam murmured.

Matt knew he couldn't make the same claim. He hadn't had an easy sleep since he'd left for the war.

The clanging of iron against iron brought Sam awake with a jolt. Every muscle and bone in her body ached; her head throbbed. Her swollen eyes felt gritty. Although she'd slept hard, she hadn't slept long enough to dream.

She squinted through the darkness. The sun wasn't even up yet. Why did she have to be?

Rolling over, she crushed her hat against her face.

“Come on, kid,” Matt urged.

“Go away,” she grumbled.

He leaned near and she could feel his breath skimming along the nape of her neck, sending delicious shivers skittering down her spine. Why was her body reacting to his nearness in these strange ways?

Nothing like this constant awareness had ever happened to her before. It was almost as frightening as being on this cattle drive, moving farther and farther away from home, away from the familiar.

Because where Matt was concerned, her thoughts and feelings were definitely not familiar.

“If you don't get up, the other fellas are likely to haul
you to the river and toss you in,” he warned.

She sat up so fast that she bumped him with her shoulder.

“Ow!” He rubbed his nose.

“I'm sorry.”

“That's all right. You really are afraid of the water, aren't you?”

Even in the shadows before dawn, she saw the concern clearly reflected in his eyes. She regretted that she couldn't be completely honest with him. “I'll be all right when crossing a river. I promise.”

He nodded briskly, although he didn't look as though he believed her. “If you say so. Stow your bedroll in the back of the supply wagon, get yourself some grub, and join me with the others at the fire.”

She noticed then that his bedroll was gone. Had he already been moving about the camp? How did cowboys do this day after day? She supposed once her body adjusted to the routine, she'd do fine.

Right this instant, though, she craved a hot bath and a soft bed, neither of which was available. Just as Matt had taught her, she cautiously checked her boots before pulling them on. Then she rolled up what passed as a bed and carried it to the wagon. She was embarrassed to note that she was the last one sleeping. She didn't want Jake to think she was a slacker, didn't want to give him
any reason to replace her at the next town.

Cookie extended a tin plate of johnnycakes toward her. “Eat up,” he ordered brusquely.

She wondered if he ever cracked a smile. She grabbed a couple of the johnnycakes and a tin cup of coffee before sauntering to the fire and dropping to the ground beside Matt.

The twins were there, as well as the two fellas she'd caught a quick glimpse of at the river: Slim and Squirrel. Their names suited them. Slim was so skinny that he looked as though he'd have to run around in the rain in order to get wet. Even when he wasn't smiling, Squirrel's teeth hung outside his mouth. She thought it made him look adorable, cute and cuddly—although she doubted he'd want to know she thought of him in that way.

The others seemed incredibly different from Matt. Matt, who appeared older and wiser beyond his years. Matt, who had lines spreading out from the corners of his eyes. She wished she didn't enjoy looking at him so much. None of the young men sitting around the fire were looking at each other. She might give herself away if she kept staring at him.

She needed to mimic these boys. They all appeared to be strangers, and yet they were riding herd together, working to achieve a common goal.

“Why is everyone so quiet?” Sam asked Matt in a low voice.

“Got nothing to say,” Slim supplied before Matt could speak.

Sam nodded as though that made sense.

Matt grinned slightly, and her heart did an unusual butterfly flutter.

“Most cowboys don't go to prying,” he said. “They figure if a fella wants you to know something, he'll tell you.”

“That's the gol' darned truth,” Jed said. Or was it Jeb? Sitting beside him, his brother bobbed his head enthusiastically.

She wondered if part of Matt's irritation with her yesterday might have come from her constant prying. But if she didn't question things, how was she going to learn all she needed to know?

“Has everyone been on a cattle drive before?” Sam asked.

“Here and there,” Squirrel answered. “Weren't many during the war, but Boss says that they're clamoring for beef up north. Bodes well for those of us with experience. Means there will be another drive next year and the one after that.”

Sam's breath hitched as Jake Vaughn crouched beside her. Speak of the devil.

“You fellas gonna jaw all day?” he asked.

“Nah, sir,” they all responded while jumping to their feet as though he'd just lit a match and ignited a fire beneath their butts.

Sam started to rise, but Matt wrapped his fingers around her arm. Why did her body want to lean into his? Why did she have to notice how firm and reassuring his hold was? She imagined he had the ability to console a woman when she was feeling down, increase her joy when she was feeling happy.

“Since he squatted beside you, Jake probably wants to talk to you. He just wanted to run the others off first. Right, Jake?”

“That's right.”

Sam's breath began to back up into her lungs. The man cut an imposing figure as he studied her.

“How'd you like riding drag?” he asked.

“Liked it just fine.” A small lie. She thought she could plant seeds in the dirt covering her face.

“Good, since you'll be doing it again today.” He unfolded his body.

“How do you think Sam did?” Matt asked.

Sam wished the ground would crack open and swallow her whole. Why couldn't Matt have left well enough alone?

A corner of Jake's mouth quirked up, and Sam realized that he wasn't nearly as old as she'd thought.

“I thought he did pretty well, for a greenhorn.” He turned to go.

“Mr. Vaughn?” Sam asked.

He stopped and stared at her. “Boss.”

She nodded quickly. “Right. Boss. Since I did pretty well, I don't see any reason that Matt has to stay by my side. I mean, he could go back to riding point.” Anything to get him away from her so she'd stop having these unsettling thoughts about him.

Jake nodded slowly. “Yeah, he could.”

Relief rushed through her.

“If I thought that was best…which I don't. Just nudge his shadow aside if it gets in your way.” He strode toward the wagon.

“It's not fair, his punishing you for being kind and taking me on.” Sam tossed her remaining coffee aside and got to her feet.

“All we have to do is teach you everything you need to learn.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“How long do you think that'll take?”

“You're a pretty fast learner,” he said.

Hope spiraled within her. A day more, maybe two and she'd be on her own.

“I reckon two or three years.”

“Years?” she repeated.

He tugged his hat down so the brim cast a shadow over his face. “Yeah. Afraid so.”

 

The days rolled along, one following the other. Monotonous days filled with nothing but the boring backsides of cattle and a routine which seldom changed.

As Sam rode beside Matt searching for strays, she couldn't say riding herd was easy. Her body ached and she was more tired than she thought it was possible to be and still be awake. She'd caught Matt sleeping in his saddle as he trailed the herd. She couldn't fathom why he didn't fall from his horse.

Had to be experience. Experience she didn't have that he did. He'd spent much of his time on horses, while she'd spent most of hers in fields.

He'd developed a trust between himself and his horse. A trust he didn't extend to her. It infuriated her that he was so tight lipped and seldom revealed anything about himself. She almost envied the horse.

She wished Mary Margaret was here because she desperately wanted to talk with her about these feelings regarding Matt that she was having. When he was near, she couldn't take her eyes off him. When he wasn't, she thought about him constantly. And when she slept, she dreamed about him.

She couldn't quite put her finger on what the emotions were about. She liked him, she definitely liked him…when she wasn't worried that he might figure out she was a girl. He wasn't just watching out for her. He seemed to reluctantly watch out for everyone.

Neither Slim nor Squirrel could write. They would recite their letters home, and Matt would scribble them down for them.

One fella owed Matt for a pair of britches. He'd gone to squat by the fire and a resounding tear had echoed around him. Matt had an extra pair he'd given the fella.

In addition to his bandanna, Matt had given her a pair of gloves. And the little notebook where she could keep her own tally of things owed to others, and things owed to her. So far, no one owed her anything. But she was becoming increasingly indebted to Matt.

He taught her how to guide an errant cow back to the herd without spooking it. How to search for strays, as they were doing now. It seemed no matter how diligently the men watched the cattle at night, one or two always wandered off.

Jake counted the number of cattle every morning and every night. The man was obsessed about not letting down the rancher who had hired him. Sam supposed she couldn't blame him for his diligence.

After all, she was determined not to disappoint Matt.
Even to herself, she had to admit that she was learning a lot faster than she'd expected to. And she thought she was danged good at riding herd.

“There's one,” she said pointing toward a thicket.

“You've got good eyes, kid.”

She glanced over at him. He was studying her as he tended to do, with one wrist draped over the saddle horn and his hat pushed up slightly off his brow.

“We could have used you when we were rounding the cattle up down south,” he said.

“Were you at the ranch?”

“Yep. It's situated between San Antonio and Austin.”

She'd seen a map of Texas on the wall at school, so she had a good idea of the state's layout.

“You traveled quite a distance before hiring more hands,” she said.

“A lot of the hands are new. Jake decided it would be better to have extra hands on this drive 'cause it's been a while since most of them have herded cattle.”

“But no one else has to dog your heels,” she pointed out.

He flashed her a grin, the first true smile she'd ever seen on his face. It made her heady, made her feel as though something was waltzing inside her chest.

“You're the only one I had the gall to hire,” he said.

“Do you wish you hadn't?”

Matt settled his hat back into place until it caused
shadows to fall across his face. “Nope. You're turning into a first-rate cowhand.”

He unhooked his rope from the saddle. “Let's get this cow.”