Les couldn’t be certain because she’d spent the noon break with Ward and hadn’t eaten. Her stomach had growled all afternoon. “I was going to tell you how sorry I am that you set yourself on fire and got drenched,” she snapped at Alex, “but you’re doing such a good job of feeling sorry for yourself that you don’t need any commiseration from me.”
“Look who’s talking!” Contempt pinched Alex’s mouth. “Everyone within a mile has been listening to you moaning and groaning since you rode in. And in case that doesn’t make everyone feel sorry for poor little you, you’re limping and rubbing your eyes. What’s next? Tears?”
“Oh shut up, Alex,” Freddy said, stepping up to the wagon and reaching for a plate. “I hope you didn’t put all your time into fixing your hair and changing clothes instead of doing something about your god-awful cooking. I’m just thrilled that you found time to primp, but we’re all going to starve to death if you don’t get better at preparing meals.”
Alex put down the ladle and brushed back a wave of hair with a shaking hand. “Well, you won’t have to starve for long. I figure if you two keep losing steers at the rate you’re going, this drive won’t last a month!”
Les drew back. “Who told you about the cimarrones?”
“Everyone knows you two incompetents lost four cattle this morning and two this afternoon! What are you doing back there? Picking wildflowers? Exploring every little gully?”
Les’s heart fell to her toes when she lifted her head toward the observers’ camp. It was still light enough to see Ward pacing back and forth, to see the deep scowl pinching his face. He must have heard about the two steers that got away this afternoon.
Her appetite fled, but she knew she had to eat to keep up her strength. She didn’t think about what she was putting in her mouth, she just chewed and swallowed as fast as she could before Ward pulled out his pocket watch, held it to the fading light, then scowled at her.
Already most of the drovers were unrolling their bedrolls and Les longed to do the same, but she dumped her scraps on the ground, carried the plate to the wreck pan, then walked out on the range. “I’ve been wanting a cup of coffee for the last two hours,” she said when she came close to him. “If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll just fetch a cup and come back.”
“I want to talk to you now.”
His tone of voice warned that he would only get angrier if she delayed. Well, she had waited this long for something to drink, she could wait another few minutes. Dragging her feet, trying not to limp too badly, she followed as he turned on his heel and strode toward his wagon, which she noticed uneasily was parked well behind Luther and Caldwell’s wagon.
“Ward?” she called, hobbling after him, stumbling in the deepening darkness. “Do you suppose I could have a cup of coffee from your pot?”
“Isn’t that just like you?” Ward hissed, turning so abruptly that she ran into his chest. “Thinking about your own comfort when everyone else except that smug bastard Caldwell is worried sick about the success of this drive because you and your stupid sister are both so careless and incompetent that any steer that comes your way just keeps going!”
“That’s not true,” she whispered, stepping back from him. “We must have turned around at least a dozen or more beeves. Ward, we did very well considering this was our first day and considering we’ve never done this before and didn’t really know what to expect.”
“You let six get past you today! Six, Les.” Grabbing her sore shoulders, he shook her so hard that her hat fell off. “At this rate, Lola won’t have to wait for Abilene to win.” His fingers dug into her arms and he pushed his face so close to hers that spittle landed on her lips and chin. “Don’t you care? Don’t you ever think about anyone but yourself?” Moonlight gleamed on his bared teeth. “I sold my store! I’ve shaken my bones to powder driving a team over this rough ground. I’ve put up with the company of two men who can’t talk about anything but gambling or law torts. And for what? To find out that you blithely let six cattle stroll past you!”
“Please, Ward,” she whispered. “I ache all over. I’m so exhausted that I can hardly stand upright, and I feel half-sick because I haven’t eaten much today.”
“It’s always you, you, you, isn’t it?” He flung her against the side of the wagon so hard that she knew her back and shoulders would bear bruises tomorrow.
“I’m doing the best I can,” she whispered, fighting a flood of tears. “You don’t know what it’s like back there. It’s constant anxiety, and the cimarrones come out of the dust all red-eyed and wild and wanting to go home. Several of them at a time, and it’s hard to—”