what to do. He hadn’t hired Wes to stay with the ranch because he felt the ranch was a little run down. He figured Wes was responsible for that.
Now Jason was beginning to wonder.
Wes set the pace at a lope. While Ms. Wilson stayed close to her manager, she seemed to know all the cowboys.
Jason had expected her to ride with the trail cook and to help with the meals. Not to round up the cows. Was her horse trained as a cutting horse? If the mare wasn’t, its lovely rider wouldn’t be of a lot of use on the drive.
Maybe she intended to supervise from camp, he suddenly thought. Only time would tell. Right now he was ready to do his best, to do the job in front of him. All his employees and business rivals would agree: Jason Barton believed in playing fair—as long as the other guy did, too. Guy or woman.
He clicked at his horse and Shadow obeyed, picking up the pace.
After about five hours Jason had to admit he was feeling stiff. A few weekend rides didn’t equate to five straight hours in the saddle.
The irritating thing was that Rosemary Wilson looked as fresh as she had at 6:00 a.m.
Wes told everyone to dismount and eat their bagged lunch under the shade of some tall trees. Like all the cowboys, Jason took care of his mount before he fed himself. There was a creek nearby and he led Shadow to it.
Rosemary Wilson didn’t ask anyone else to take care of her mount. She led her horse to the water and waited until the horse had drunk her fill. Then she tied up the mare where the grass was green. Once her horse was grazing, she took her canteen and her sandwich and joined Wes.
Jason knew she wouldn’t welcome him anywhere close to her; she’d communicated that clearly enough by her attitude. He joined them anyway, as did his manager, Ted.
“You certainly picked a nice day for the start, Ms. Wilson,” Jason said, offering an easy smile to see if she’d relax a little.
She didn’t. “Thank you.”
“Do you think this kind of weather will last for the entire two weeks?”
“Who knows?”
“Wes, what do you think?”
“It’s September. We sometimes get some cold fronts, even snow. But we’re hoping, since it’s at the beginning of the month, we’ll be all right.”
“How rough are the foothills we’re going to be covering?” Ted asked.
Wes and Ms. Wilson exchanged a look. Then Wes said, “Some of it is pretty wild.”
“We didn’t bring rifles,” Jason said. “Should we have?”
Wes looked him in the eye. “Yeah. But we’ve got rifles, so if we run up on a bear or something, we’ll take care of it.”
Jason turned to look at Ms. Wilson. “Did you bring a rifle?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Can you shoot it?”
Wes laughed. “This little girl is one of the best sharpshooters I’ve ever seen.”
The “little girl” only said, “Yes.”
“I’m surprised, Ms. Wilson.”
She raised one slim eyebrow. “Why?”
“When you came to my office, you looked like you had conquered the world of fashion, not sharpshooting.”
“You were mistaken, Mr. Barton.”
Wes frowned. “Are you two going to be so formal the entire roundup?”
“I don’t mind Ms. Wilson using my first name, though I can’t use hers unless she says it’s okay.”
“Come on, Rosie,” Wes interjected. “Quit standing on ceremony. This is a roundup, not some fancy social affair.”
Jason almost burst out laughing. He could see the stubbornness on her face. She wanted to remain cool, aloof, to hide behind formality. But she couldn’t admit it in front of Wes.
Finally she acquiesced. “Fine. I’ll be glad to call you Jason, and you can call me Rosemary.”
“Thanks, Rosemary.”
She nodded and took a bite of her sandwich.
Wes was watching him, as if he was wondering why Jason was pushing Rosemary from her comfort zone. But as Wes had said, they couldn’t be formal for two weeks.
In spite of Wes’s bragging about Rosemary’s skills, Jason still wasn’t sure she would be of much use on the cattle drive. He would just have to wait and see.
After a half-hour break, they were all in the saddle again, facing another four to five hours before they reached their first camp. Wes had explained that they would be at the halfway point this evening. Then they would travel another eight hours the next day. The day after, they would begin the search for cattle, at the farthest point and the highest elevation, beyond which the terrain was too rough for cattle to venture. Then they would gradually move back toward the ranch, sweeping the hills for the cattle.
It would be a much slower trip coming back than it had been going.
When they reached the camp set up by the cook, they could smell dinner cooking and see a large campfire. The warmth would be welcome, Jason admitted. As the sun lowered behind the hills, the air had changed from crisp to cold.
And the food would be just as welcome. His body was tired and in need of fuel. He’d tried not to slump in the saddle because Rosemary certainly wasn’t slumping. The woman must have a lot of muscles in that trim figure, he reasoned.
Ted was apparently feeling much as he did. “I’m glad to see that fire. I don’t like the cold.”
Jason frowned in surprise. “Haven’t you had to go out in bad weather to take care of the cattle?”
“I usually get some of the men to do that work.”
Jason thought he knew Ted Houston fairly well. He’d come highly recommended, and he’d ridden with Jason on a couple of weekends at a stable outside Denver, where Jason kept Shadow and several other horses. But a leader didn’t ask his men to do things he wouldn’t do.
After they dismounted and tended their horses, including putting up a rope corral that would hold the horses for the night, they all moved quickly to the fire where the cook had an appetizing stew cooking over the fire.
“It smells good, Cookie,” Rosemary said, finally smiling.
“It’s Sara Beth’s recipe, Rosie, so you know it’s good.” He turned to Jason and held out a hand. “I don’t believe I’ve met you. I’m Albert Downey, but everyone calls me Cookie, for obvious reasons,” he said with a grin.
Jason shook his hand. “Glad to meet you. I’m Jason Barton and this is Ted Houston.”
“Welcome,
