“That wouldn’t be fair, Mr. Cole, now would it?” Lola waved a finger at Grady like he’d been a naughty boy, the gesture enough to make Freddy gag.
“Luther? We need a ruling on this issue.” Frisco waited for Luther to refer to Joe’s will.
“There’s no proviso against accepting strays into the herd,” Luther said finally.
Lola dug her elbow into Jack’s ribs, and he sat up straight. “As Mrs. Roark’s representative, I object. What’s to prevent Frisco or his men from collecting strays all along the trail? That’s cheating.” Lola nodded vigorous agreement.
“If we pick up ten strays along the way, that’s about five more than I’d normally expect,” Frisco said.
Luther spoke earnestly to Lola and Jack. “The only prohibition is against the Roark sisters buying more cattle than they start with.”
Lola didn’t take the decision well. She flounced her curls and pushed her lips into a pout.
Frisco let his gaze rest briefly on the faces of those who would participate in the drive. “While I acknowledge Mrs. Roark’s interest in the drive’s outcome, let me remind you that everyone in this outfit works for the Roark sisters. The Roark sisters hired us to get two thousand beeves to Abilene, and that’s what we’re going to do. I don’t have to tell you boys that we’ll lose a few along the way, and you know what our margin is. So treat each of those steers like he’s the one that will make the difference between success or failure.” Rocking back on his heels, he gazed hard at each of his drovers as if he were confirming his choices. “That’s it. Before I ride back to town, I want to speak to Les, Alex, and then Freddy. Les? Shall we step outside?”
Ward jumped up when Les did and started toward the door. Frisco leaned in to him, almost nose to nose. “None of my drovers comes with a partner attached at the hip, and that includes Les. I want to talk to her. Not you.”
Freddy stepped forward, extending a cup and enjoying Ward’s purple-faced anger. “More punch?” she asked sweetly. If he called her sister, she planned to throw it on him.
Glad to escape the crowded, overheated room, Les paused and inhaled a long breath of crisp night air before she followed Mr. Frisco down the porch steps.
“I assure you that Mr. Hamm won’t interfere,” she said in an anxious voice, struggling against an urge to apologize for Ward. “He’s as interested in our success as we are.”
Frisco led her to the fence separating the house from the outbuildings and leaned his arms on the top rail, gazing toward the barn’s dark silhouette. “You’ve come a long way and you’ve learned a lot. But it takes years to make a cowboy, not a few weeks. You’ve never seen a stampede, haven’t swum a herd.” Taking off his hat, he pushed a hand through his hair. “There’s a lot you’ll have to learn on the trail, that can’t be helped. The last time I took a herd north, two men died, Les. It’s a dangerous undertaking even for seasoned hands, which you aren’t.” Now he turned his head to gaze at her pale face. “If you have any misgivings, let’s hear them right now.”
“Every day I tell myself that I can’t do this. And frankly, I’m scared to death,” she whispered, pulling pieces of splintered wood off of the fence rail. “But I don’t have a choice.”
His gaze moved along the bruise on her jaw, then dropped to the dark mark around her wrist. “Learning has been harder on you physically than the others, and that worries me. Do you consider yourself prone to accidents?”
The question astonished her until she realized that was how he accounted for the extra bruising that showed up on her face and wrists. “I guess I am,” she answered carefully.
He sighed and nodded, then straightened and looked down at her. “Keep practicing the basics. And Les… try to hold the socializing to a minimum. A tired cowboy is dangerous to himself and everyone else.”
When she reported the conversation to Ward before he climbed in his gig, he slapped a fist in his palm and swore. “Already he’s trying to keep us apart. Well, it won’t work.” He looked at her. “Aren’t you going to wish me good luck?” he asked, one hand on the fender of the gig. “I’ve sold the store, and I’ve rearranged my life. I’m making this sacrifice for us, and it isn’t easy.”
“At least you don’t have to herd longhorns,” she said lightly, suppressing a sigh.
“Is that a criticism?” His eyes narrowed into a look she knew only too well.
“No,” she said hastily, placing a hand on his chest. “I just meant that a cattle drive doesn’t sound easy for anyone involved. That’s all. I know how hard this will be for you.”