looking over the homestead. Log-built, the six guest cabins were self-contained and comfortably furnished, two of them capable of sleeping four people if required, although the majority apparently came in pairs and sometimes even singly. They were heated by wood-burning stoves in the winter when people came to ski and sleigh-ride, with Calor gas fires as stand-bys for the cool summer evenings. Alex would have been quite content to live in one of them the whole year round.
The bunk house, over beyond the barn, was for the single hands only, the married ones coming in on a daily basis. Most were out on jobs at present, two of them with Greg, line-riding the fences to check for breakages.
‘The Circle X lost about thirty head to rustlers last week,’ Margot said. ‘They back a truck into the fence to break a section down, and use dogs to bring in as many as they can. Cal set a trap last year and put one gang out of circulation for a while, but that didn’t deter the others for long. It’s too lucrative a game.’
‘What kind of a trap?’ Alex asked, intrigued to hear that rustling actually still took place.
‘He put a bunch of prime steers where they could be easily got at, then lay in wait with several of the boys every night for more than a week waiting for them.’
‘But how could he be sure they’d come? I mean, if they didn’t know the cattle were there...’
‘They send spotters out looking for likely prospects. They must have thought they’d got it made.’
‘They were all caught?’
‘Every one. Got twelve months apiece. If it had been up to Cal, it would have been twelve years!’
Alex didn’t doubt it. She could visualise the scene in her mind’s eye: the men lying in wait in the night; the truck coming into view, engine muffled as horses’ hooves might once have been; the sudden commotion as the ambush was sprung. In former days, the thieves might have found themselves strung up on the spot. A few months in jail hardly carried the same deterrent value.
With all the guests on the day-ride, and Greg still out, it was just the three of them for lunch on the veranda. Remembering the amount of food available at supper, Alex conserved her appetite. She might have given up modelling but that was no excuse for gorging herself.
‘You don’t eat enough to keep a sparrow alive!’ scoffed Cal, watching her quarter an apple for dessert. ‘A few extra pounds wouldn’t hurt.’
‘Alex has an absolutely perfect figure now,’ declared his sister with some asperity. ‘I wish I could look like she does!’
‘You’d need stretching a few inches to start with,’ he said. ‘Plus a bleach-job on the hair.’
‘What time did you intend leaving?’ asked Alex, judging it better to change the subject than go for his guts.
‘As soon as we’re through.’ From the glint in his eyes, he was well aware of her irritation. ‘You might find a hat useful. Keep the sun out of your eyes.’
‘I’ve got several,’ Margot offered. ‘You’re welcome to borrow one.’
Alex smiled at her. ‘Thanks. I’ll probably buy myself one as a souvenir to take home.’
The hazel eyes took on a sudden concern. ‘You don’t have to go soon, do you?’
It was difficult to know quite how to answer that without appearing to take too much for granted. ‘I don’t have anything particularly pressing lined up,’ she acknowledged diffidently.
‘Slack time of year, is it?’ Cal gave her no time to answer the question. ‘There’s no limit this end on how long you stay.’
‘Thanks,’ she said again. ‘That’s very generous of you.’
His lips slanted. ‘It’s no hardship. You might like to join in some of the guest activities. There’s a cookout tomorrow night, and the Prescott rodeo on Saturday, with a square dance in the evening.’
‘What about general ranch work?’ she asked. ‘Greg said the guests joined in with that too.’
‘Some of the men like to put in a spell or two.’
‘Women barred, are they?’
Cal eyed the bright cascade of her hair, freed now from its tethering scarf, the fine boning of her features; dropping his gaze to view her well-tended hands with obvious implication. ‘It’s no job for a woman.’
‘Where I come from,’ she said with purpose, ‘women are deemed capable of doing anything they feel capable of doing!’
‘Always providing they don’t overestimate their capabilities.’
‘The proof of the pudding is in the eating. I already showed you I can sit a horse.’
‘Think you could use a rope too?’
‘I could learn.’
The smile was tolerant. ‘I’ll consider it.’ He pushed back his chair and got to his feet, tall, dark and infuriating. ‘See you down at the corral in ten minutes.’
Margot chuckled at the expression on Alex’s face as her brother moved away. ‘You look as if you’d like to stick a knife in his back!’
‘More than one!’ Alex caught herself up. ‘Sorry about that. He is your brother.’
‘You don’t need to apologise. He makes me just as mad at times. You do realise he was needling you on purpose?’
Alex looked at her sharply, then gave a rueful smile. ‘You mean he does let the women take part?’
‘If they show any real enthusiasm.’
‘I thought that was what I was doing.’
Margot hesitated. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but you hardly look the type to enjoy roughing it.’
‘Never judge a book by its cover.’ Alex stood up purposefully. ‘I’ll just have to prove myself, won’t I?’
Cal had both horses already tacked-up when she reached the corral. Seated easily astride the grey, one hand on the rein, the other resting lightly along his thigh, he looked born to the saddle—the embodiment of all the cowboy heroes Alex had worshipped as a child. Not unlike them in essence either, she supposed: the all-male male in a male-dominated world. Fine enough in fiction, maybe, but downright insufferable in reality!
‘Glad to see you remembered the hat,’ he said. ‘Fit you okay?’
‘It’s a bit snug,’ she admitted. ‘Shall I be able to get one of my own this afternoon?’
‘Don’t see why not.’ He pulled his own hat further down over his eyes as he set the grey into motion with a flick of the rein. ‘Let’s get on the way.’
Regardless of the company, Alex found it impossible to feel anything but elated as they moved out under the wide blue Wyoming sky. It was all she had anticipated: the sun hot, the air clear, the scenery awesome in its beauty. What more could Greg want from life?
