The Red River was in full rampage, flooding its banks. One herd camped ahead, another had backed up behind them. Everyone waited for the spring floodwaters to recede, but they couldn’t delay more than another day before the range would be grazed out. Tempers frayed as drovers fought to keep their stock from mingling with other herds, worried about quicksand and the upcoming crossing.
“I don’t know,” Freddy said. Rolling her eyes in disgust, she poured the rest of her beans on the ground. “Les has always seemed apprehensive toward Ward, but lately she seems almost terrified.”
Dal’s gaze sharpened. “Has he hit her again?”
Freddy was sure of it. She’d seen bruises on Les’s chin, had noticed Les wincing with pain. “When I asked, she denied it, then started crying and begged me not to mention anything to you.” They walked toward a low bluff overlooking the rushing water.
“Do you want me to speak to her? Throw Ward off the drive? I’d be happy to.”
Freddy put her hand on his arm, drawing a soft breath at the powerful feel of iron muscle. “Don’t. I’m just expressing my own frustration and concern.” When a tingle leapt from his body to hers, she dropped her hand and frowned down at eddies of swiftly flowing water. “It’s funny how things change. I used to resent it that Les looked to everyone else to solve her problems. Now I’m upset that she won’t let anyone help her.”
“Gunderson is going to take his herd across tomorrow,” Dal said, changing the subject. “We’ll go the day after.” He jerked off his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “The question isn’t whether we’ll lose beeves, the question is how many.”
Freddy looked down at the tossing, raging river. “How deep is it?”
“Too deep to walk. The cattle and horses will have to swim.”
“Swim that?” she asked in disbelief. As she watched, a small tree floated past, tossing and whirling in the rapid, churning currents.
“We’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t,” Dal said, his voice rough with frustration. “We lost two beeves in the quicksand last night. It’s a miracle we haven’t lost more.”
A powerful thunderstorm had rumbled through, sparking stunning displays of cracking lightning. All the waiting herds had stampeded, and all had lost beeves to the quicksand, the bluffs, or the river. The King’s Walk outfit had been lucky not to lose more than two, but it had taken all night and most of the morning to sort things out and retrieve their cattle from other herds. James and Peach had provoked a fistfight with the drovers from the herd behind them, and both had black eyes and bruises to show for it.
Adding to the general dissatisfaction, the Red River Station had nothing to offer but one outfitting store and one crowded saloon. Luther—Luther!—had almost gotten into a fight when he drove his wagon to the store to buy supplies for Alex.
Everyone was edgy about swimming the floodwaters, and tempers boiled near the surface.
“How will Alex get across?”
“Luther will pay the six-dollar ferry charge for Alex and the chuck wagon. And Luther will keep Caldwell away from the herd. The rest of us will ride through.” He cast brooding eyes on the swollen river. “Including that idiot, Ward. He’ll send his wagon on the ferry, but he’s decided to save two dollars by riding across.”
“I think Ward has some foolish idea that he can do whatever you can do.” Trying to imagine swimming her horse across the cold floodwaters frightened Freddy. The last time they swam the herd, it had scared her badly when her horse’s hooves left the ground and she knew her life depended on Walker’s ability and power to swim against the currents and emerge on the opposite bank. That river had been deep, but not raging in flood. The Red River would be much more dangerous.
Dal placed his hand on her arms. “Are you up to this? I can send you with Alex on the ferry if your shoulder is still giving you trouble.”
The temptation was great to accept his offer, but that would place an extra burden on the other drovers. The crossing would be difficult enough without attempting it shorthanded. “I’m on the mend.” Her shoulder still ached, but today, she wasn’t wearing the sling. She was trying to work the stiffness out of her sore muscles.
Gazing up at him, she wondered how she had ever imagined that his eyes were cool or cold. Now she saw warmth and a flicker of desire that made her stomach tighten and her breath quicken, made her long to step forward into his arms.
“I didn’t want to say this, but… I miss you,” he said gruffly.
The heat of his large, callused hands on her arms made her remember his fingers teasing along her naked skin. “I didn’t want to say it either, but… I miss you, too.”
“Sometime soon, Freddy, we’re going to have to talk about you missing me and me missing you.” His gaze dropped to her lips.
“What do you want to do about it?” she asked, feeling herself go weak inside.