Page 74 of Relentless

Sweeping around, Maeve assessed every aspect of the operation. Her gaze landed on Harper, who was surprisingly more comfortable on horseback than she would have ever guessed. She appeared almost peaceful, in a way that Maeve recalled from days long before life had turned into such a tangled mess.

Turning her eyes back to the trail just in the nick of time, she noticed a young calf break away from the herd.

“Oakleigh!” she shouted, nabbing her attention.

The young woman swiveled and grabbed the rope from her saddlebag. Hurling it clumsily at the calf, she missed the young animal entirely. It weaved and bobbed past her, darting through the herd.

Harper was now their last line of defense.

Maeve wasn’t sure if her sister would know what to do, but she certainly knew the horse was trained to react. The mare sidestepped before dashing after the wayward calf through the brush and trees. Disappearing down an embankment, Harper was white-knuckling the reins on the back of the galloping horse.

“Should we go after her?” Oakleigh shouted.

Maeve cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Stay with the herd!”

Pulling on the reins, she dug in her heels to prompt the horse to a gallop. Going through the thick brush, she raised her arm to shield her face from the tree branches snagging at her clothes. Maeve caught up to them just in time to see Harper’s horse cut left, blocking the path of the swift little calf. Her riding skills had finally met their match as she slipped off the back of her horse and landed in a pillowy snow bank.

Maeve rode up quickly, retrieving the coil of rope from her saddle. Slinging it over her head, she flung it forward, hooking the rope around the calf’s back hooves. She pulled, using her body weight to yank the animal to the ground. Jerking the rope around her saddle horn, she wrapped it tightly until the calf was secured.

“Woah girl, woah,” Maeve exclaimed, pulling the reins taut. The mare hadn’t even come to a complete halt before Maeve’s boots hit the crunchy snow.

She went first to Harper.

“Harp, are you okay?” Maeve asked, fully anticipating her sister’s unpredictable temper to boil over.

To her surprise, Harper smiled.

“I’m fine,” she acknowledged, dusting the dirt and pine needles off her jacket with her gloved hands. “At least, I think?”

Maeve extended her hand. For once, Harper took it without recoiling, allowing herself to be hoisted to her feet.

“Nothing’s broken,” Harper exhaled. “Except these.” She groaned, retrieving her broken designer frames from the snowbank. She went to her horse and gave it a gentle pat, while it munched on some long grass that poked through the snow.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Maeve said. “I thought we could manage.”

Harper reached over, and affectionately scratched the mare’s nose.

“It’s a horse, Maeve,” she replied somewhat scoldingly. “He was just doing what he was trained to do.”

Maeve found herself at a loss for words, which practically never happened. “You want to ride or walk her back to the ranch?”

“Will you relax?” Harper balked with an eye roll. Putting her foot in the stirrup, she pulled her leg back over the saddle with a wince. “I’m fine, Maeve.”

Although her noticeably stiff gait had defied her casual response.

“If you say so,” Maeve murmured, mounting up. Tugging the little calf behind them, she navigated back through the brush.

When they arrived at the herd, Oakleigh was leaning on her saddle horn, wholly distracted in her phone screen.

“Ready to go?” Maeve prompted.

“All set,” Oakleigh answered, slipping her phone back into the pocket of her snow pants. She clicked her tongue against her cheek, and nudged her horse with her heels.

The cattle followed suit, ambling their way through the thick trees.

“Sorry about that, Maeve,” Oakleigh finally spoke up. “I guess I need to work on my roping skills.”

---