Page 46 of Silver Lining
When Louise had first read this letter, it hadn't affected her personally. She had simply liked the way the words flowed together and had wished someone would write her such a fine letter and call her dearest.
Then, after she and Max married, the letter had seemed sad, evidence of fate's capriciousness. Now, it made her angry, although she couldn't have explained why.
Of course Max still thought about Philadelphia . He cared for her and he'd planned to share his life with her. Plus, a person couldn't turn his feelings on and off at will. He would probably grieve Philadelphia 's loss for a long time, maybe forever.
She sipped her coffee, leaning back from the table to see out the window. This morning frost had sparkled on the range grass, and each day the leaves on the cotton-woods seemed a paler green, edging toward yellow. When she had visited the barn, she'd noticed the horses' hair was growing thick and long for winter.
Frowning, she gazed down at the letter. Keeping it didn't make her feel good anymore. Without considering what she was about to do, she crumpled the pages, then dropped them in the firebox of the stove and watched the paper curl to ash. And she fervently wished Philadelphia would disappear as easily.
There was another reason why she was glad to see Max leave for the fall roundup. Since marrying him, she hadn't had a single blamed minute to herself. She'd led a solitary life—she wouldn't exactly call it lonely—and she needed solitude to chew though the things that troubled her, to recall the items that gave her pleasure, and to make plans for tomorrow.
Standing, she gazed around her kitchen and decided the dirty dishes could wait. So could her other chores. What she needed now was a reminder that she was more than Max McCord's wife, she was still herself and she meant to stay herself.
Determined, she marched upstairs, threw off the too-short skirt and her shirtwaist. Then, because her prospector clothing had vanished, she chose a pair of Max's denims, rolled up the cuffs, and pulled them on. The waist was large enough that, without suspenders, the denims would have fallen around her ankles, so she borrowed a pair of suspenders, too. And a warm flannel shirt. And a hat and some riding gloves.
Feeling better than she'd felt in days, she strode down to the barn and corrals and looked over the horses that Max and the boys had left behind. Rebecca ambled over to the log rails, followed by a black gelding that was no longer young. She fussed over Rebecca a little then ran a hand along the gelding's winter-fuzzy neck.
"You don't like being left behind, huh?" she murmured before she climbed over the rails and dropped down beside him. "At your age you ought to know enough about cattle to teach me a little something."
The black quivered as she saddled and cinched him, as eager to go as she was. Once Louise was mounted, she let the gelding run off excess energy, laughing as he soared over the stone fence north of the barn.
For the next hour she rode aimlessly, enjoying the sunlight sparkling through brisk, chill air, getting a feel for the lay of the land, discovering draws and creek beds, wooded areas and open range. Occasionally she spotted a steer or cow and then the gelding's ears pointed sharply forward and she felt him tense beneath her, awaiting her signal.
"We'll get to that," she said, leaning to pat his neck.
Max would never approve of what she was doing, she knew. But she'd never been submissive, had never been afraid to take a risk, and she wasn't going to begin now. If she ended up injured… she'd deal with the situation if and when it happened. Just as she had dealt with unpleasant situations during all the years when she hadn't had a husband who thought he could tell her what to do.
"All right," she said to the gelding. "The next time we see a beeve, you do whatever it is you do, and I'll sit up here and observe and learn."
Almost at once the gelding leapt forward, galloping after a cow and calf that he spotted before Louise did. There was no sitting and reflectively observing. It was all she could do to hang on as the gelding cut sharply in one direction, then whirled in another as the cow and calf tried to evade capture. If capture was indeed the objective, something Louise wasn't sure of at all. The gelding chased the cow at full gallop then cut directly in front of her and stopped hard, his head down, his front legs plowing out in front of him.
Louise sailed over his head and landed hard on her fanny.
She'd have some bruises to show, but she hadn't broken any bones, thank God, and the cow had missed trampling her. Grim-lipped and steely-eyed, she caught the gelding and swung up into the saddle again. By the time she looked up, the cow and calf had vanished. The likeliest place to hide was in a thick tangle of chokecherries and other bushes she couldn't identify.
"You win this time," she shouted at the bushes, unwilling to prod the gelding into the thicket. "I'll catch you tomorrow."
The next time the black took after a lone steer, she had an idea what to expect and hung on longer, not trying to control the horse but just letting him work the beeve. Unfortunately, she ended as she had earlier, sprawled on all fours in the prairie grass.
At the end of the day, the gelding tossed her yet again, eyed her with what looked like disgust, then trotted toward the barn and corrals, leaving Louise to walk two miles back to the house. By the time she arrived, she was feeling the evening cold and aching in spots she hadn't known she had. After unsaddling the gelding and forking hay into the corral, she limped up to the house, anticipating a nice long soak in the wash tub. Among other things, she'd learned that chasing after cattle wasn't nearly as easy as she had supposed it would be.
By the morning of the fourth day she dared hope that she was getting a handle on catching cows. Cows were more cunning than she would have believed and faster, too, which surprised her. Also, she had wrongly supposed they were as stupid as chickens.
She was heading out the back door when she heard Gilly calling from the front door.
"Louise? Are you there?"
A wide smile curved her mouth. She had never thought she would see a day when family came calling, but here it was. Pleased as all get out, she hurried to the front of the house. "Howdy!"
Gilly's mouth dropped when she saw the denims and suspenders. Flustered, she glanced down at Sunshine's wide eyes. "Mother and I were worried that Max didn't leave someone here to look after you, so I came by to check on you and bring a cake." She blinked and stared. "Louise, why on earth are you dressed like… likethat?"
"I'm learning to catch cows. But this is how I always used to dress," she explained cheerfully. "Come on in. And excuse the house. I ain't done my chores, but I'll catch everything up before Max returns." What was it about her new family that made her say "ain't" when she'd almost stopped using the word around Max? "It'll only take a minute to reheat the coffee."
Gilly picked up a basket at her feet and, holding Sunshine's hand, silently followed to the kitchen. "I don't think Max would approve of you chasing cows all by yourself."
Louise agreed, bringing two cups of coffee and a glass of milk to the table. "But if I wait for Max to teach me about cows, I'll still be waiting when the trumpet sounds."
Gilly smiled. "Dave's the same. He's always saying we'll do this or that, but he never gets around to it."
